Images of Old Hawaiʻi

by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Kalo (Taro)

Hawaiian traditions describe the birth of the islands and the life that exists on them in terms of genealogical accounts.

All natural forms of the environment are believed to be embodiments of gods and deities.  From godly forces the Hawaiian Islands are born of Wākea (the expanse of the sky‐father) and Papahānaumoku (Papa who gave birth to the islands).

Wākea and Papa are credited for being the parents of the first man, Hāloa, the ancestor of all people.  Commoners and aliʻi were all descended from the same ancestors, Wākea (sky father) and Papa (earth mother.)

It is from this genealogical line that Hawaiians address the environment and it forms the basis of the Hawaiian system of land use.

“The first born son of Wākea was of premature birth (keiki alualu) and was given the name Hāloa-naka. The little thing died, however, and its body was buried in the ground at one end of the house.  After a while from the child’s body shot up a taro plant, the leaf of which was named lau-kapa-lili, quivering leaf; but the stem was given the name Hāloa.  After that another child was born to them, whom they called Hāloa, from the stalk of the taro. He is the progenitor of all the peoples of earth.” (Malo)

“The first Hāloa, born to Wākea and Ho‘ohokukalani, became the taro plant. His younger brother, also named Haloa, became the ancestor of the people.  In this way, taro was the elder brother and man the younger–both being children of the same parents.”

“Because our chiefs were of the senior line, they were referred to in respect and affection as “kalo kanu o ka aina” (The taro grown in the homeland) by the junior branches of the family.”(Handy-Pukui)

In pre-Captain Cook times, taro played a vital role in Hawaiian culture. It was not only the Hawaiians’ staple food but the cultivation of kalo was at the very core of Hawaiian culture and identity.

The early Hawaiians probably planted kalo in marshes near the mouths of rivers. Over years of progressive expansion of kalo lo‘i (flooded taro patches) up slopes and along rivers, kalo cultivation in Hawai‘i reached a unique level of engineering and sustainable sophistication.

The Hawaiian concept of family, ‘ohana, is derived from the word ‘ohā (Fig., offspring, youngsters,) the axillary shoots of kalo that sprout from the main corm, the makua (parent.)  Huli, cut from the tops of mauka, and ‘ohā are then used for replanting to regenerate the cycle of kalo production.

Kalo lo‘i systems are typically a set of adjoining terraces that are typically reinforced with stone walls and soil berms. Wetland taro thrives on flooded conditions, and cool, circulating water is optimal for taro growth, thus a system may include one or more irrigation ditches, or ‘auwai, to divert water into and out of the planting area.  (McElroy)

In 6 to 12 months, depending upon plant variety along with soil and water conditions, the taro is generally ready to harvest. Each parent tuber produces from two to 15 ʻohā, side tubers of corms, up to 6 inches in diameter.

Kalo patches are variously named on the basis of size, shape, planting method and other factors. Mo‘o ai are narrow strips of planted kalo, much longer than they are wide. Mo‘o kaupapa lo‘i are long rows of lo‘i or wet kalo patches. Other types of wet planting mounds include pu‘epu‘e hou and kipi or kipikipi. Of the wetland methods, lo‘i was most frequently occurring form.

Taro or Kalo has been a traditional form of food sustenance and nutrition, particularly in ancient Hawaiian culture.  Reportedly, it is the world’s fourteenth most-consumed vegetable.  All parts of the plant are eaten, including poi, table taro (the cooked corm,) taro chips and luau leaf.

Kalo starch is one of the most nutritious, easily digested food.  Kalo corms are high in carbohydrate in the form of starch and low in fat and protein, similar to many other root crops.

The starch is 98.8 percent digestible, a quality attributed to its granule size, which is a tenth that of potato, making it ideal for people with digestive difficulties.

The corm is an excellent source of potassium (higher than banana), carbohydrate for energy and fiber. When eaten regularly, kalo corm provides a good source of calcium and iron. Kalo leaves (lū‘au leaves) are eaten as a vegetable.

The staple of the ancient Hawaiian people, poi, is a gentle food, hypoallergenic, gluten free and easily digestible. It has saved the lives of babies who have been allergic to everything else. Poi is just about for everyone – from the health-challenged to the super-fit endurance athlete. (Bishop Museum)

Kalo, like other plants in its family, is considered poisonous when raw because its tissues contain an acrid component; thorough steaming or boiling eliminates this and allows it to be eaten.

It is estimated that at the peak of kalo production, areas under its cultivation covered more than 20,000-acres (about 31 square miles) over six islands.

Since the early to mid-1800s, kalo cultivation and the demand for kalo has markedly declined, and many of the ceremonial, medicinal and upland kalo cultivars became neglected and were lost.

In the last 200 years, Waipi‘o has experienced many changes: new ownership of the land, assimilation of other ethnic groups into the indigenous Hawaiian population and the shift from subsistence taro farming to market production.  (UH)

In 1900, it was estimated that about 1,280 acres were being used for kalo production.  By 1907, rice had become a major crop, occupying about 10,000 acres.

At that time, Chinese farmers were growing about half the kalo crop and milling 80 percent of the poi. By 1937, the major kalo growers were Japanese.

With the outbreak of World War II in 1941, demand for kalo declined and production dropped to 920 acres.

The image shows a couple of men pounding poi (BishopMuseum)  

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by Peter T Young 1 Comment

Kukuionapeha Heiau

Kaimuki, before man, was a site of rocky land, red soil high in iron and largely covered by lava.

Where Kaimuki got its name is not known. However, there are many stories and legends which tell what the name means. One is from a legend that menehune (legendary little people of Hawaiʻi) chose the place to build their ti ovens. Breaking the word down, ‘Ka’ means the, ‘imu’ – roasting-pit or ti-oven, and ‘ki’ – ti. (Kapio)

William Lunalilo ended up with most of the area known as Kaimuki through the Great Māhele (1848.) Lunalilo was born on January 31, 1835 to High Chiefess Miriam ‘Auhea Kekauluohi (Kuhina Nui, or Premier of the Hawaiian Kingdom and niece of Kamehameha I) and High Chief Charles Kanaʻina.

When Kamehameha V died on December 11, 1872 he had not named a successor to the throne. The Islands’ first election to determine who would be King was held – Lunalilo defeated Prince David Kalākaua (the Legislature met, as required by law, in the Courthouse to cast their official ballots of election of the next King. Lunalilo received all thirty-seven votes.)

Lunalilo was the first of the large landholding aliʻi to create a charitable trust for the benefit of his people. He was to reign for one year and twenty-five days, succumbing to pulmonary tuberculosis on February 3, 1874.

His estate included large landholdings on the five major islands, consisting of 33-ahupuaʻa, nine ʻili and more than a dozen home lots. His will, written in 1871, established a perpetual trust under the administration of three trustees to be appointed by the justices of the Hawaiian Supreme Court.

His will instructed his trustees to build a home to accommodate the poor, destitute and infirm people of Hawaiian (aboriginal) blood or extraction, with preference given to older people. The will instructed the Trustees to sell all of the estate’s land to build and maintain the home. (Supreme Court Records)

In 1884, the Kaimuki land was auctioned off. The rocky terrain held little value to its new owner, Dr. Trousseau, who was a “physician to the court of King Kalākaua”. Trousseau ended up giving his land to Senator Paul Isenberg. Theodore Lansing and AV Gear later bought the Kaimuki land (in 1898.) (Lee)

In 1898, Kaimuki was still the barren, rocky and red-dirt land filled with panini, kiawe, and lantana. However, Lansing, a real estate agent, thought it was a great place to build a high class residential district. Initially, sales were slow.

But in 1900, the Chinatown fire forced folks to find places for new homes and businesses – many came to Kaimuki. This eventually led to the construction of the Lēʻahi Hospital (1901.)

Lēʻahi Hospital was once called Honolulu Hospital for the Incurables. The patients were there to die. Most died of tuberculosis which spread to hundreds. The hospital was nicknamed ‘Make house,’ or the house for the dead. (Kapio)

This and other activity in the area destroyed and/or displaced the landscape.

A heiau, Kukuionapeha Heiau (Napeha’s light or beacon) was in the vicinity.

It was in an “Area seaward of 8th and 9th avenues, Ka-imu-ki, Honolulu, that was once a heap of rocks.” (Ulukau) “Kaimuki, at the town side of old signal station. All destroyed.” (Thrum.)

The image shows what is believed to be Kukuionapeha Heiau in Kaimuki (Hawaiʻi State Archives.)

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Protecting a Forest, Preserving a Culture

Envision a child helping to plant a seedling; then, while standing before a 100-year old tree, asking him about what he thought life was like in the islands when that tree was once a seedling.

More importantly, imagine him wonder what life will be like in the islands when his planted seedling turned 100-years old.

This was part of the vision for a forest management plan; let’s look back …

Native koa ecosystems serve as watershed recharge areas while providing recreational opportunities and important wildlife habitat. Koa is considered a vital species for healthy populations of endemic birds and insects. The tree itself has myriad uses in Hawaiian culture and traditions.

In making Hokuleʻa, the Polynesian Voyaging Society (PVS) wanted to use traditional materials (koa wood hulls, lauhala sails, sennit lashing) and traditional tools (adzes, bone gouges, coral files and sharkskin for sanding) in building the canoe.

Instead, the hulls were constructed out of plywood, fiberglass, and resin, and the sails were made from canvas; the lashings were done with synthetic cordage. (PVS)

It takes 125 years or more to grow a koa log large enough for a canoe, which generally needs to be 35 to 45 feet long with a diameter of 48 inches or more (voyaging canoes require larger logs.)

That period may be shortened if specific koa logs are identified for canoes now, and forestry prescriptions (e.g. thinning, pruning) are applied to favor the growth of those trees for canoe logs. (DLNR)

Unless committed efforts were made to grow koa for canoe logs on a sustainable basis now, no Hawaiian voyaging canoes would be built in the future using traditional methods (i.e. from a single large log.)

Likewise, racing and smaller style canoes will need to be fabricated from smaller koa logs joined or spliced together.

While I was Chair at DLNR, I remembered how folks could not find appropriately sized/shaped native trees in Hawai‘i to build the Hokule‘a and subsequent voyaging canoes.

Likewise, I knew of the interest canoe clubs and others had for koa racing canoes. Without protection of our koa forests, we may never have the trees for future canoes.

In 2004, we then initiated the formal designation of the Kapapala Koa Canoe Forest Management Area on land set-aside in 1989, near the Volcano National Park, in Kaʻu, on the Big Island. The designated area consists of approximately 1,200-acres of mature koa-ʻohiʻa forest.

The 1,257-acre property extends from the 3,640-foot elevation of Mauna Loa to 5,100 feet. It is next to the state-managed Kapapala and Ka’u Forest Reserves, and is covered with young and old koa trees, although the trees aren’t yet suitable for canoe building.

Here, koa trees grow tall and straight – necessary traits for core material in canoe shaping. It was the first Forest Management Area specifically designated for nurturing and harvesting koa canoe logs.

A broad, multi-faceted focus was envisioned, dealing with cultural & historical, technical forestry (planning, measurements, theory,) applied forestry (plant, weed, thin, prune, harvest) and wood working (canoe building, as well as crafting of excess/scrap material.)

Seven major goals of the project included:

  1. Preserve Hawaiʻi’s unique natural and cultural inheritance for future generations, by fostering knowledge and respect for Hawaii’s native forests, in a way that inspires better care of its natural environment.
  2. Protect threatened tropical forest habitat and promote environmental policies and practices, that address biological sustainability and human well-being, by identifying and integrating relevant traditional Hawaiian natural resource stewardship models with current Western management strategies.
  3. Develop natural resource stewardship models that involve a wide range of constituent groups.
  4. Involve youth through cooperative programs with the Department of Education, University of Hawaiʻi, and other school and education institutions.
  5. Provide wood workers with portions of harvested trees that are not processed as canoe logs.
  6. Involve other constituency groups (i.e. canoe clubs, forest management entities and cultural organizations).
  7. Provide compatible opportunities for public uses such as hunting and recreation.

Protecting trees for canoes is great; but, for me, the plan was not just about trees – we envisioned greater benefit by getting school children into the forests to help with the management and monitoring of its progress – and help them wonder.

At the outset, we envisioned that trees in the forest would be ‘designated’ to schools and canoe clubs across the state, with students and paddlers from each school/club periodically visiting and nurturing their respective tree. Ultimately, the school/club would get a log for a school/club koa canoe.

Likewise, the intent was to make the excess wood available to wood workers, so nothing would be wasted and crafters would have material to work with.

As part of the project implementation, Hawaiʻi Forest Institute worked with the Hawai‘i Forest Industry Association (HFIA,) DLNR’s Division of Forestry and Wildlife (DOFAW,) Imi Pono and the Three Mountain Alliance to develop a plan for bringing youth to the Kapapala Canoe Forest for cultural and environmental education.

What is most gratifying about this story is that starting on March 1, 2026, DLNR initiated a Koa Log Application for those who wish to acquire a koa log to build canoes to be used for racing, voyaging, fishing, education, or other traditional and customary practices.

The dream of assuring future koa logs for canoes is becoming reality through partnerships with DLNR and others. The needs for future koa canoe logs are being filled, DOE and children across the state can also participate in these activities, and a healthy forest will be protected.

It worked! Yay!

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Hōkūle‘a Was An Official US Bicentennial Project

“[D]uring this Bicentennial Year, each of our States is planning events with which to commemorate our country’s beginning.”

“As each observance differs from the other, they serve to emphasize the diverse cultural backgrounds that combine to form that anomalous national, the American.”

“In my State of Hawaii, where no one culture or ethnic group constitutes a majority, the peoples of Asia and the Pacific have combined with those of European background to form that special kind of person, the Hawaiian American.”

“It is therefore fitting that a Hawaiian bicentennial event should commemorate the beginning of our State’s history.”

“I refer to the voyage this year – voyage plans to begin sometime during April-May of Hokule‘a, a 60-foot double hulled canoe that will sail from Hawaii to Tahiti, using only the ancient navigational aids of wind, wave, star, and bird. …”

“Hokule’a is sponsored by the Polynesian Voyaging Society. This is a nonprofit group, formed in our State of Hawaii for the sole purpose of proving that more than 1,000 years ago, the Polynesian ancestors of today’s Hawaiians deliberately chose to sail across unknown waters to find new land.”

“Mr. Speaker, I think my colleagues will agree with me that this is a most exciting Bicentennial event. It will not only prove – and disprove – many scientific theories regarding Polynesian navigation, but will also perpetuate the spirit of ’76 as displayed by those American – and Polynesians – who dared to challenge the unknown.” (Spark Matsunaga, US House of Representatives, Feb 26, 1977)

“Intended as Hawaii’s contribution to the 1976 U.S. Bicentennial, Hōkūle‘a was built as a replica of the vessels used by Polynesians, using illustrations made by European explorers of the canoes they encountered in the 18th century.” (American Indian Magazine)

“Our project has been chosen to be part of the State of Hawaii’s Bicentennial celebration and is receiving $7,000 seed money from the Commission 1974.  This includes $2,000 from funds raised locally by the Commission and $5,000 from the Federal Bicentennial Fund.” (Proposal for an Experimental Voyage between Hawaii and Tahiti)

“The Hokule’a is a 60‐foot sailing canoe constructed as the official 1976 Bicentennial project of the State of Hawaii.” (NY Times) “The canoe first become internationally famous when it sailed from the Hawaiian Islands to the Society Islands in 1976 as an official part of Hawaii’s celebration of the United States’ Bicentennial. …”

“[T]he project was the result of many minds and many hands from throughout the community. The result of all that energy was the most outstanding of all Bicentennial projects undertaken in the United States during 1976.” (Gordon Piianaina. Implications of Hokule‘a)

“The canoe itself was built of modern materials”. (American Indian Magazine) In making Hōkūle‘a, the Polynesian Voyaging Society (PVS) wanted to use traditional materials (koa wood hulls, lauhala sails, sennit lashing) and traditional tools (adzes, bone gouges, coral files and sharkskin for sanding) in building the canoe.

Instead, the hulls were constructed out of plywood, fiberglass, and resin, and the sails were made from canvas; the lashings were done with synthetic cordage.  (PVS)

“She was a ‘performance replica,’ designed to perform like an ancient vessel and intended for one historic voyage: to sail to Tahiti using traditional navigation.” (American Indian Magazine)

“In 1976, Hōkūle‘a proved her mettle by sailing 2,400 miles across empty ocean to Tahiti, guided by traditional Micronesian navigator Pius ‘Mau’ Piailug.” (American Indian Magazine) “[T]he canoe had originally been built just for that voyage”. (Sail Magazine)

“The original crew consisted of Piailug as the navigator; Captain Kawika Kapahulehua; Clifford Ah Mow; Milton ‘Shorty’ Bertelmann; Ben R. Finney; Charles Tommy Holmes; Sam Kalalau; Boogie Kalama; Buffalo Keaulana; John Kruse; Douglas ‘Dukie’ Kuahulu; David Henry Lewis; Dave Lyman III; Billy Richards; and Rodo Tuku Williams.” (Sail Magazine)

“Hokulea’s first voyage away from Hawaii on May 1, 1976 took her to Tahiti and back – two crews and 52 days at sea. What initially began as a scientific experiment to prove that Polynesians navigated the Pacific, and a nod to the United States bicentennial, ended up being a cultural revitalization in the art of canoe voyaging and navigation.” (Hawai‘i Magazine)

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

“Ka ʻaina a Kane-huna-moku”

Hawaiians recognize a Floating Island, or an Illusory Land which they call “Ka aina a Kane-huna-moku,” (the land of island-hiding-Kane.)

This appears at times on the ocean fertile green slopes with valleys and streams, and uplands towering up into a cloud-capped summit. Some now living claim to have seen it, and one man at least is said to have visited it and lived there for years.

How this came about was somewhat as follows:
There was once a chief called Keawe-ahu who lived in Kona, Hawaii, who by his exacting disposition and harshness with which he treated his people, won their everlasting hatred.

But the more they complained the more vigorous and exacting became his treatment, until his people made up their minds that they couldn’t stand it any longer and began to cast about for some way to get rid of him.

On a suitable occasion the chief Keawe-ahu was invited to go out fishing, and on his acceptance the old fisherman and his assistant manned the canoe, taking care to hide at either end of the canoe under the little deck and the fishing gear, a couple of extra paddles.

They went far out, trying their luck at various places, but always assured that it would be better farther out. At length when they were so far out that the land was misty and dim in the distance, at a preconcerted signal the two fishermen giving the canoe a vigorous spurt which shot it forward, let the paddles slip from their hands.

The impetus of the canoe left the paddles away behind. Of course the thing to do was to jump overboard and secure them, but this the fishermen were unwilling to do. One claimed that he had a bad cold, the other had rheumatism. Perhaps Keawe-ahu would do it

Keawe-ahu was an excellent swimmer; suspecting nothing, he plunged in without a word. No sooner was he out of the canoe than the fishermen whisked out the hidden paddles and pulled away, never even pausing to look back until they had reached the shore.

When Keawe-ahu realized what had happened, he turned over on his back, ceased swimming and closed his eyes to think. There was a moment of lost consciousness, and when he opened his eyes there before him was a strange, unfamiliar, beautiful land, with fertile green slopes and smiling valleys and limped flowing streams.

He swam to it; landing, he saw near at hand a banana-leaf hut under a big kukui tree, in front of which sat a beautiful maiden. It was at once evident to him that she was a Menehune.

She asked who he was? “I am Kanakao-Kai,” the Man of the Sea, he replied. ”And who are you?” “I am the maiden Ana-like, we live here alone, the three of us together, my father, my mother and I.”

He then inquired more at length concerning the land. He found that it was inhabited by a race of Menehune who lived on the natural fruits of the earth uncooked as they plucked them. Taro and sweet potatoes grew in abundance but were untouched by the people because of the lack of means to cook them.

Keawe-ahu set himself assiduously to two things; winning the favor of the maiden Ana-like, by personal attention and service, and winning the favor of the old folks and people generally by showing them how to make fire, cook food, etc. He succeeded at both.

So Keawe-ahu and Ana-like were married according to such simple custom as was common among the Menehune, and again there was a cooked food ahaʻaina, more generous and wonderful than before.

In due time there came to the new home a son, whom they named Na Maka o ke Ahi – the light of the fireside – equally dear to both the mother and the father.

The years flew by – the son grew up to be like his father and seemed to be drifting away from his mother. Sometimes it seemed as though the father encouraged this; he himself had drifted away from the tenderness of his early affection. In truth he had grown weary of the narrow life and the limited interests.

Keawe-ahu had kept all this to himself, but the keen eyes of his wife had not been blind to the change that had come over him, and suspected the cause of it. She surmised that if the chance of escape ever offered itself he would take advantage of it.

But what about the boy? Would he leave him behind?

His devotion to the lad and his constant and almost exclusive monopoly of him convinced her that the father would never leave him behind. He would either forego his chance of escape or take the boy with him.

At first, naturally and instinctively, she steeled herself against the loss of her son; she would herself carry him off and go into hiding with him. Yet when she came to think of it more carefully she saw how futile this was, Keawe-ahu would certainly find them.

And then too did she want to ruin the boy’s future for the sake of her own enjoyment of him?

He would be better off with his father. On his father’s estates he would be a prince; a prince and a hero in that large and wonderful life that she had heard of. Gradually she became reconciled; if the father went and took the lad, it would break her heart, but it was better so.

Nor was the prospect of their departure so utterly remote. This wonderful floating island was constantly shifting, mostly it drifted in shoreless seas, but sometimes it came within sight of land and several times in earlier years Keawe-ahu had seen the familiar shores of Hawaii; then he didn’t want to leave, now he did.

Any day the chance might come again. And one day, sure enough it did come.

In the early morning at daylight, there they were close to off the coast of Kona. It was the impulse of a moment to seize the lad, throw him across his shoulders, run down the slope and leap into the warm ocean.

It was a long hard swim, but was he not a master swimmer, and had he not, secretly, been training for just this kind of feat? However that may be, they reached the shore safely, though very much exhausted. (This summary is entirely from Legend of the Floating Island, A Kauai version narrated by Mrs S Polani, of Kapaʻa, by JM Lydgate; Thrum.)

It appears that Kane-huna-moku has been seen in many places within the Hawaiian Islands and beyond, which suggests that many instances of coastal submergence in these islands may have been enshrined in oral traditions, sometimes by modifying existing stories.

For example, the occasional reappearances of Kane-huna-moku in Hawaiʻi may be the outcome of a mirage or the appearance of a pumice mat, combined with a perceived need to reinforce some element of tradition. (Nunn; Heggen)

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