Images of Old Hawaiʻi

by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Whose Footprints Are These?

Geologic evidence suggests that the modern caldera of Kīlauea formed shortly before 1500 AD. Repeated small collapses may have affected parts of the caldera floor, possibly as late as 1790. For over 300-400 years, the caldera was below the water table.

Kilauea can be an explosive volcano; several phreatic eruptions have occurred in the past 1,200 years.  (Phreatic eruptions, also called phreatic explosions, occur when magma heats ground or surface water.)

The extreme temperature of the magma (from 932 to 2,138 °F) causes near-instantaneous evaporation to steam, resulting in an explosion of steam, water, ash and rock – the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens was a phreatic eruption.

The 1924 eruption at Halemaʻumaʻu documents and illustrates the explosive nature of Kilauea.  However, the 1924 explosions were small by geologic standards and by the standards of some past Kilauea explosions.

The hazards of larger explosions, such as those that took place multiple times between about AD 1500 and 1790, are far worse than those associated with the 1924 series.  (USGS)

There were explosions in 1790, the most lethal known eruption of any volcano in the present United States. The 1790 explosions, however, simply culminated (or at least occurred near the end of) a 300-year period of frequent explosions, some quite powerful.  (USGS)

Keonehelelei is the name given by Hawaiians to the explosive eruption of Kilauea in 1790.  It is probably so named “the falling sands” because the eruption involved an explosion of hot gas, ash and sand that rained down across the Kaʻu Desert.  The character of the eruption was likely distinct enough to warrant a special name.  (Moniz-Nakamura)

At the time, Kaʻū Chief Keōuakūʻahuʻula (Keōua) was the only remaining rival of Kamehameha the Great for control of the Island of Hawaiʻi; Keōua ruled half of Hāmākua and all of Puna and Kaʻū Districts.  They were passing through the Kilauea area at the time of the eruption. The 1790 explosion led to the death of one-third of the warrior party of Keōua.  (Moniz-Nakamura)

Camped in Hilo, Keōua learned of an invasion of his home district of Kaʻū by warriors of Kamehameha. To reach Kaʻū from Hilo, Keōua had a choice of two routes one was the usually traveled coastal route, at sea level, but it was longer, hot, shadeless and without potable water for long distances.  (NPS)

The other route was shorter, but passed over the summit and through the lee of Kilauea volcano, an area sacred to, and the home of, the Hawaiian volcano goddess Pele. Keōua chose the volcano route, perhaps because it was shorter and quicker, with water available frequently.  (NPS)

In 1919, Ruy Finch, a geologist at the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory discovered human footprints fossilized in the Kaʻū desert ash. Soon, this area of the desert became known as “Footprints.”

Barefoot walkers left thousands of footprints in wet volcanic ash within a few miles southwest of Kīlauea’s summit.

Many historians and Hawaiians believe the footprints were made by Keōua and his warriors.  Keōua was known to be in the area at the time, and previous thought suggested this part of the desert did not have pre-contact use, so it was narrowed down to them.

Scientists later investigated – one approach was to look deeper at the evidence.

Forensic studies indicate that the length of a human foot is about 15% of an individual’s height. A man’s foot may be slightly more that 15%, a woman’s slightly less, but it is possible to estimate the height to a couple of inches.  (USGS)

They measured 405-footprints to determine how tall the walkers were.  The average calculated height is only 4-feet 11-inches, and few footprints were made by people 5-feet 9-inches or more tall. Early Europeans described Hawaiian warriors as tall; one missionary estimated an average height of 5-feet 10-inches. Many now believe that most of the footprints were made by women and children, not by men, much less warriors.  (USGS)

Meanwhile, Keōua’s party was camped on the upwind side of Kīlauea’s summit – perhaps on Steaming Flat – waiting for Pele’s anger to subside. They saw the sky clear after the ash eruption and began walking southwestward between today’s Volcano Observatory and Nāmakanipaio.  (USGS)

Suddenly, the most powerful part of the eruption began, developing a high column and sending surges at hurricane velocities across the path of the doomed group. Later, survivors and rescuers made no footprints in the once wet ash, which had dried.  (USGS)

Then, archaeologists looked for other evidence to help identify who the footprints may have belonged to.  Contrary to general thought that the area was not used by the Hawaiians, archaeological investigations discovered structures, trails and historic artifacts in the area.  (Moniz-Nakamura)

Most of the features were along the edge of the Keʻāmoku lava flow.  Several of the trails converge south of the flow, suggesting a major transportation network.  The structures are likely temporary, used as people were traversing through the desert on their way to/from Kaʻū and Hilo.  (Moniz-Nakamura)

The sheer number of temporary shelters along the Keʻāmoku flow, as well as the trail systems and quarry sites, strongly suggest that this area was frequently used by Hawaiians travelling to and through the area – before and after the 1790 eruption.  (Moniz-Nakamura)

If the footprints aren’t Keōua’s warriors, then how did one-third of his warriors die?

Several suggestions have been made: suffocation due to ash; lava, stones, ash and other volcanic material; or strong winds produced by the eruption, asphyxiation and burning killed them.  (Moniz-Nakamura)

A more recent suggestion is that a “hot base surge, composed primarily of superheated steam … (traveling at) hurricane velocity” was the cause of death.  The wind velocity prevented the people from running away; they probably huddled together, then “hot gases seared their lungs.”  (Moniz-Nakamura)

Some now suggest that, if these observations and ideas are correct, the footprints were made in 1790, but not by members of Keōua’s group.  (USGS)

A reconstruction of events suggests that wet ash, containing small pellets, fell early in the eruption, blown southwestward into areas where family groups, mainly women and children, were chipping glass from old pāhoehoe. They probably sought shelter while the ash was falling. Once the air cleared, they slogged across the muddy ash, leaving footprints in the 1-inch thick deposit.  (USGS)

On August 1, 1916, President Woodrow Wilson signed the country’s 13th national park into existence – Hawaiʻi National Park.  At first, the park consisted of only the summits of Kilauea and Mauna Loa on Hawaiʻi and Haleakalā on Maui.

Eventually, Kilauea Caldera was added to the park, followed by the forests of Mauna Loa, the Kaʻū Desert, the rain forest of Olaʻa and the Kalapana archaeological area of the Puna/Kaʻū Historic District.

In 1961, Hawaiʻi National Park’s units were separated and re-designated as Haleakalā National Park and Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.) (Lots of good information here is from USGS, NPS and Jade Moniz-Nakamura.)

© 2023 Hoʻokuleana LLC

 

by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Coffee Schedule

“You know, when you in the seventh grade like that, to carry one bag of coffee was quite a chore. And load three bags on a donkey and come up the trail. When it rain, the donkey would slip on the trail, fall. Had to unload the coffee, get the donkey up, load it again. I know, many times, I used to cry.” (Minoru Inaba)

As early as 1684, a grammar school founded in Massachusetts required 12 months of education. In 1841, Boston schools operated for 244 days while Philadelphia implemented a 251-day calendar.

In the beginning of the nineteenth century, large cities commonly had long school years, ranging from 251 to 260 days. During this time, many of these rural schools were only open about 6 months out of the year.  (Pedersen)

The origin for the traditional school calendar based purely on agrarian needs was not entirely accurate. In the 19th century districts organized their calendars around the needs of the community.

For example, some special provisions were made for vacations during September and October for communities with large fall harvests. Prior to 1890, students in major urban areas were in school for 11 months a year. But by 1900, the more popular 180 day, 9-month calendar had been firmly established. (Pedersen)

In the days before air conditioning, schools and entire cities could be sweltering places during the hot summer months. Wealthy and eventually middle-class urbanites also usually made plans to flee the city’s heat, making those months the logical time in cities to suspend school.

By the late 19th century, school reformers started pushing for standardization of the school calendar across urban and rural areas. So a compromise was struck that created the modern school calendar.  (PBS)

In Kona, the harvest of coffee used to set the school calendar.  “(B)ecause coffee was the basic industry in those days, much of the land was planted in coffee, of course. As of now, much of the land has been abandoned. But in those days, coffee was the basic industry in Kona.”

“(T)here was no other industry in Kona except coffee farming, and the sugar plantation, for a while. And of course, ranching, they had from way back. There was no tourism. No other businesses except coffee farming in Kona. … Most of the families were farmers. … coffee farmers.” (Minoru Inaba)

“As early as 1916 a ‘coffee vacation’ of three weeks in each November was an established institution in central Kona, where 95 per cent of Hawaii’s coffee industry is located.”

“It continued up to 1924, when the ‘vacation’ became optional – each school deciding when and how many weeks the vacation may be held each autumn.” (Inouye)

Then, in 1931, “A special vacation of three weeks for all schools in Kona has been sanctioned by the department of public instruction … The length of the vacation was a compromise between four or five weeks wanted by the (coffee) planters, and two weeks favored by most school principals.” (Hawaii Tribune Herald, Sep 23, 1931)

That, apparently, wasn’t good enough to address the needs of families of Konawaena – a couple weeks later it was announced, “Members of the Kona-waena Parent-Teacher association gave their unanimous approval at a meeting yesterday …”

“… to the plan to change the Kona-waena school year from September to June to December to September, allowing school children to assist in the coffee harvest during the months of September, October, and November.”

“The action was taken to eliminate the so-called ‘coffee vacation’ which makes it necessary for students to make up the time lost by attending school during the Thanksgiving holiday period and for five Saturdays after the first of February.”

“Much opposition had developed to the coffee vacation and the new proposal was suggested as a means of adapting the school year to the needs of industry in the Kona district.” (Hawaii Tribune Herald, Nov 23. 1931)

The Star Bulletin announced “Change in Vacation Time at Kona-Waena … With the approval of the new vacation schedule for the Kona-waena high school and grammar school in Kona by the West Hawaii commissioners, the annual vacation will be shifted from summer to winter.” (SB, Feb 13, 1932)

“)B)ecause of the need of the farmers to have their children help them on the farms, the coffee schedule was established. And the coffee schedule ran from … August, September, October, November – those three months – was the regular vacation – coffee vacation. This is the time when it was coffee season, you see?” (Minoru Inaba)

“(T)he summer vacation was really a fall vacation and started around the 16th of August and went through to about the 16th of November. So, that took most of the football season. The community associations didn’t get into football, because that would have only hurt the reason for the schedule as it was.”

“It would take kids away from picking coffee and helping their families. I think eventually, though, these kids found other things to do – possibly (because of) family transportation. Kids found other things to do a lot better than picking coffee.” (Sherwood Greenwell)

“You see, how they got that, you have to have the school kids pick coffee, eh? That’s the only way they can help the parents, by picking coffee. So, if you stay home from school, you lose that much education. I guess they entered a resolution or whatever you call it. Anyway, they got their school to change the time … that’s when you’re picking coffee.”

“We [normally] go back September. … the peak season is right when the school go back. So, they change it so that they have their Kona schedule on a coffee harvest time. Well, it worked out all right like that.” (Willie Thompson)

“(I)n the earlier days, on off season, the time before harvesting and after trimming, there weren’t job opportunities for the farmers. There was a criticism – probably doesn’t hold as much today because there’re not as many schoolteachers that are in the coffee business – but a lot of the schoolteachers that came back here, came back here because they had coffee farms – their

families had coffee farms.”

“Well, the coffee schedule really ended because the families could no longer get the kids to come back and spend the time on the farms to pick coffee, which the coffee schedule was supposed to take care of.”

“But those teachers that had coffee farms were more concerned about their coffee operations really than they were on their teaching. The teaching gave them the security of a steady income, while the coffee income was what they were really concerned about.” (Sherwood Greenwell)

“There were probably five or six years of where there was a question, (should) the coffee schedule be continued or (should) they give it up?  This became quite a hassle. It was kept, I think, longer than it was practical.”

“Probably for one reason more than anything else, and that was that a lot of the farmers felt that it was a concession that they had somehow gotten that was very important to them. Not that it was that worthwhile to them, but it was a concession that government had given them and they wanted it sort of there, even though it wasn’t working out as well as it should.”

“So, I think that probably extended the [time].  And it also – you got a feeling from the attitude of some people that if you were for going back to the regular schedule, that you were an enemy to coffee.”

“This was a feeling, I think, that a lot of people had who would like to have seen the thing [coffee schedule] dropped. It took some time and some guts for most of the people to overcome that feeling. So, I think it did continue longer than it should have.”

“I think it would have been better for the kids and everybody that it would be over with sooner. Kids going into college off the Kona schedule, college almost had started before they graduated, and I don’t think it helped that type of education – you know, ongoing education – for the kids.”  (Sherwood Greenwell)

Kona was not the only place with crop-based vacations … “(O)ne year, we were cutting back across the states, and there was a kid in Idaho fishing at a stream where we were fishing. We asked him how come he wasn’t in school. He said, ‘oh, spud vacation’. What they did was, school was let out at the height of the potato harvesting season for two weeks.”

“Something like that probably would have been a better way of doing it. Going on the regular schedule and then just having a vacation tied right into the harvesting period.” (Sherwood Greenwell)

“Then, the coffee kind of faded out. All the new teachers, they didn’t like teaching when all the other teachers have a rest, and they working. Then, they changed back to the regular. Then, the weather kind of changed too. Not much coffee. The season kind of different, too. So, that’s how they got the schools like that … about in the ’60s, they changed back to the regular schedule.” (Willie Thompson)

“I think, at the beginning, there was a real reason for it and I think it worked out very well. I think it strengthened the ties within the family where they all were working together for something.”

“I know it’s been said at times, if you had someone applying for a job that came from Kona, he was a good worker. He had good loyalty and he was a good worker. I think that all comes from that period where everybody in the family worked hard together.” (Sherwood Greenwell)

In 1932, the school coffee schedule was inaugurated. There are 1,077 coffee farms in Kona, covering 5,498 acres. The farms ranged in size from 3 to 30 acres, with the average size being 5 acres.

Kona students picked a total of 25,320 bags during their “summer” vacation period between October and December in 1932.  (Social History of Kona)

On June 20, 1968, “The Kona coffee schedule of November – to – August year for Kona schools was ended … in a complicated series of actions by the State Board of Education.  The board thus ended a 36-year-old unique tradition devised to free youngsters to pick coffee during the harvest months of September and October.”

A transition year in 1968-69 was “a temporary measure to provide time to plan for implementing an entirely new system in the 1969-70 school year.”  (SB, June 21, 1968)

© 2022 Ho‘okuleana LLC

by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Halepōhaku

As part of the New Deal Program, to help lift the United States out of the Great Depression, Franklin D Roosevelt established the Civilian Conservation Corps in 1933. The CCC or Cs as it was sometimes known, allowed single men between the ages of 18 and 25 to enlist in work programs to improve America’s public lands, forests, and parks. (NPS)

President Roosevelt proposed that the CCC “be used in simple work, not interfering with normal employment, and confining itself to forestry, the prevention of soil erosion, flood control, and similar projects …”

… and argued that “this type of work is of definite, practical value, not only through the prevention of great present financial loss, but also as a means of creating future national wealth”.

On March 31, 1933, Congress passed a bill under the title “Emergency Conservation Work” (ECW) and on April 5, 1933, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 6101 which officially established the ECW Program, administered under the auspices of the CCC.

The CCC had two main objectives – to employ hundreds of thousands of unemployed young men in conservation work and to provide vocational training, and later education training, for enrollees. (PCSI, OMKM)

Enrollment periods lasted six months and enrollees could opt to re-enroll for additional six-month periods for up to two years. Four distinct enrollment categories existed – Junior enrollees; Local Experienced Men; World War I veterans; and American Indians and residents from US Territories.

Juniors comprised 85% of enrollees and were single men between the ages of 18 and 25, whose families were on relief aid. Two groups of older men, Local Experienced Men and Veterans of World War I each comprised 5% of enrollees.

Territorial enrollees comprised 1% of total CCC enrollment and were not subject to age or marital status restrictions and were permitted to live at home and work on nearby projects

For many, just the prospect of three meals and a bed were enough to get young men to enroll. As jobs and income were incredibly scarce, the CCC for a lot of these young men was their first job.

The CCC provided room, board, clothing, transportation, medical and dental care, and a monthly salary of $30 per enrollee, $25 of which would be sent straight to their families, while the other five was for the worker to keep. (NPS)

The CCC was officially inaugurated in 1933 in the Hawaiian Territory under the supervision of the Territorial Forestry Commission and the Hawaiian National Park, but the first Corps work projects were not begun until 1934. (PCSI, OMKM)

Frank Harrison Locey, the President of the Board of Commissioners of Agriculture and Forestry, wrote that: “It appears to me that the CCC camp is a kindergarten in a way.”

“They take young boys in, do not work them too hard but harden them for normal employment. That is why I call it a kindergarten or a stepping stone to future labor.”

The CCC aimed to supplement on-the-job training with a formal educational program. Approximately half of the CCC enrollees had less than an eighth-grade education and suffered from illiteracy. To remedy this situation, evening instruction in the camps taught remedial reading and writing skills, general education courses, and specialized vocational classes.

Acting Territorial Forester, Leicester Winthrop Bryan, reported that: “In addition to the good done to the youth of this Island through giving them an opportunity to earn money we have tried to teach them to live together, to work, to learn some useful trade, to continue their education, to improve their health and to become better citizens.”

“We feel that a large number of these boys have left our camps in a much better condition to go out in the world and earn their living and be better citizens.”  (PCSI, OMKM)

The stone cabins at the present location of the mid-level astronomy facilities on the Mauna Kea Access Road (the Halepōhaku Rest Camp) were constructed by members of the CCC in Hawai`i in 1936 (Rest House 1) and 1939 (Rest House 2). (The Comfort Station was constructed by the Territory of Hawai‘i’s Division of Forestry in 1950.)

Hale Pohaku literally ”stone house,” refers to the two stone cabins constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps in 1936 and 1939 at an elevation of 9,220 feet on the southern slope of Maunakea. L. W. Bryan, who served as the Territorial Forestry Office and helped with the construction of the “stone houses,” also named them Hale Pohaku. (Cultural Surveys)

In the first entry of the Halepōhaku Register Log (1939) LW Bryan wrote that the “Halepohaku Rest Camp” was constructed by the CCC under the direction of the Territorial Division of Forestry by CCC Foreman Yoshinobu Hada. (The letters “Ha” and the date “1936” were inscribed into mortar near the doorway of Rest House 1 – presumably referring to Foreman Hada.)

In articles published in Paradise of the Pacific, Bryan described Rest House 1 and identifies its’ early usage, writing that: “Halepohaku is well named for the stone rest-house located there. This house is within the Mauna Kea Forest Reserve and is available for use by any one.”

“It is located in a sheltered spot, near 9,500 feet, at the upper edge of the timber line. Fire wood is plentiful and a 2,000 gallon water tank, fed by gutters from the house roof, furnishes a supply of good clean water.”

“A 3 x 5 foot built in stove furnishes ample warmth and a suitable place to cook and the size of the fire box is such that the cutting of fire wood is an easy matter. The house door is never locked and the only charge made is that each occupant is requested to leave the place clean, not to waste the water and to prepare a small supply of fire wood for the next fellow.”

“Aside from a stove, a table and benches, this building is unfurnished. … Halepohaku is only two miles from where the car is left and makes an excellent stopping place for the night.”

“The cabins replaced a complex of buildings near Ho‘okomo, at the 7,800 foot elevation, which had been used by Forestry personnel who were building and maintaining the Forest Reserve fence and by workers constructing the road to Hale Pohaku.”

“The cabins at Hale Pohaku were placed under the jurisdiction of the State Parks Division of the Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) in 1962. Hale Pohaku was never officially designated as a State Park.”  They later were included under the lease to the University of Hawai‘i.

Per the 1977 Mauna Kea Master Plan, “The Hale Pohaku facility will consist of mid-level facilities for necessary research personnel for the summit, a central point for management of the mountain, and a day-use destination point for visitors and primitive overnight camping facilities.” Master Plan 1977;7

While hunting on Mauna Kea as a kid, we overnighted at Halepōhaku (well before astronomy’s mid-level facilities were built (1983)), as well as in the Pu‘u La‘au cabin above the Kilohana Girl Schout Camp.

© 2023 Ho‘okuleana LLC

by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Unintended Consequences

We generally note that ‘stuff,’ including unwanted pests, make it to Hawaiʻi on Wind, Wings and Waves.

Some seeds, spores and insects arrived on the wind.  A few birds flew or were blown off course; in them or stuck to their feathers were more seeds.  Some seeds managed to float here on ocean currents or waves.  Ocean currents also carried larval forms of fish, invertebrates, algae and other species.

Today, the pathways to paradise are diverse, including: air & ship cargo; ship hulls & ballast water; hand-carry/luggage; mail & freight forwarders; forestry activities; horticulture trade; aquaculture; pet trade; botanical gardens and agriculture experiment stations (or simply on you and your clothing.)

It is estimated that in the last 230+ years, as many as 10,000 plants have been introduced: 343-new marine/brackish water species; Hawaiʻi went from 0 native land reptiles to 40; 0 amphibians to 6 (including coqui frogs) and there is a new insect in Hawaiʻi regularly showing up.

With these pests, Hawaiʻi has the dubious distinction of being called the endangered species capital of the world and unfortunately leads the nation in endangered species listings with over 350-federally listed threatened or endangered listed species.

With only 0.2% of the land area of the United States, nearly 75% of the nation’s historically-documented plant and bird extinctions are from Hawaiʻi.  We have more endangered species per square mile on these islands than any other place on Earth.

Impacts from invasive species are real and diverse: Quality of life that makes Hawaiʻi a special place; Forests’ ability to channel rainwater into our watersheds; Survival of native species found nowhere else; Health of residents and visitors; and Tourism and agriculture-based economy.

OK, other than negative impacts from the man in the mirror, there are a lot of nasty plants and animals that are wreaking havoc in Hawaiʻi.  Unfortunately, many were brought here on purpose; at times, without much thought about the unintended consequences.

Let’s look at a few dubious examples of ‘good ideas’ gone bad.

While the sugar producers saw a marked reduction in the pesky rats in their plantation following the importation of mongoose (starting with a few in 1883) to inflict this outcome, these rodents also harmed the native ecosystem.

In less than two years after the importation of the mongoose, the rats were so diminished that it was and is now a rare thing to see a stick of cane that is eaten, and the plantations have so extended their plantations that they now grind nearly all the year, giving employment to double and treble the number of hands with a corresponding benefit to the trade of Honolulu.  (Evening Bulletin, December 5, 1895)

“The drawback to the Mongoose is that he does not confine his menu to rats but varies it with all kinds of barnyard fowl and eggs and also ground-nesting game birds form a good part of his dietary. Another regrettable thing about him is that he is very fond of our field lizards or skinks which have an important part to play in the ‘balance of nature.’” (HA Baldwin – Maui News, August 5, 1921)

Unfortunately, the mongoose are targeting birds, including ground-nesters such albatross, petrels, boobies and shearwaters. They are considered to be the number one predator against the endangered Nene, eating the eggs and nesting females. They also eat the eggs and adults of many forest birds.

Another idea gone bad was the importation of fountain grass to be used as an ornamental plant around the house.  It joins a long list of other invasive plants that were first used to decorate a yard or home that have since dominated the landscape and devastated our native flora.

First collected in Hawaiʻi in 1914, fountain grass has been introduced to many parts of the world as an ornamental grass. It is a poor pasture grass and a serious weed in many dry habitats.

Over 200,000 acres of the original site of the plantings (the Kona-Kohala side of the Big Island) are now dominated by this invasive weed. It’s a fire threat and first survivor that expands its cover by rapidly reestablishing itself after burning.

We also have concerns in the ocean, too.

Roi, a grouper, is another plan gone wrong.  It was introduced to Hawaiian waters from Tahiti in 1956 to boost declining stocks for sport fishing, but never caught on as popular eating fish.

Added to that, roi is a high-risk fish for ciguatera poisoning.  Roi, which prey on juvenile parrotfish and surgeonfish, have become the dominant inshore predator in the main Hawaiian Islands.

Its partner, taape, a snapper, was introduced to Hawaiʻi from French Polynesia about the same time (1955) for the same reasons (to enhance fishing opportunities) and shares the same sad results (at least in the opinions of many fishers.)

Introducers first thought that since there is the lack of native, shallow-water snappers in Hawaiʻi, it seemed like a good idea to fill a “vacant niche” for the sport fishers.

Taape generally do not share the same depth and feeding habitat with most native species (the natives are deeper in the water column,) overlaps little in diet and is not a frequent predator or prey of the natives.  But some concerns remain (and the science differs from the negative attitudes from fishers.)

Unlike other Pacific Islands, many people in Hawaiʻi don’t like to eat taape. Largely due to the size, color and lower values in the market, taape is a not often fished and has thrived.

With the rapid and dramatic increase in numbers of taape, concern has been expressed that it may be producing negative effects on populations of native food fishes or otherwise disrupting the existing fisheries for native species.  (DLNR)

Finally, fortunately, we don’t have snakes … yet.  I had the chance to visit Guam on several occasions and was given a tour of that island’s ‘snaky’ areas – it looks just like anywhere in rural Hawaiʻi.

While living in Kailua, every time I rode home on Kalanianaʻole Highway above Enchanted Lake above Kailua, with the overhanging haole koa, I was reminded it took us only 15-minutes to find a snake in Guam in this identical habitat.  (In Guam, you unfortunately soon become aware of what it sounds like when there are no birds.)

There’s a long list of other ideas gone bad to our natural resources across the islands (I only mentioned a limited few, here,) in our forests, across the landscape, along our shores, in our streams and in the ocean.  Before we bring in the next thing in, let’s think beyond the goal and consider the unintended consequences.

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club

The Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club was organized on October 28, 1924, with the original Club site on the western side of Kāne‘ohe Bay. 
 
 
Opening ceremonies at the present site were held on December 17, 1955.  Reportedly, Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club is the oldest Yacht Club in Hawai‘i, in terms of continuous service.
 
When we were kids, KYC and the Bay were our back yard.
 
Our house was about a block away.  An entrance gate to the club was at the end of the street of the old neighborhood.
 
A significant milestone and rite of passage in life was turning 10-years of age – it was then that you could go down to the Yacht Club on your own, without adult supervision.
 
Lots of the club is pretty much the same.  (However, to add more mooring spaces, there is a new parallel dock on the right side of the image below (where the El Toros are sailing.)
 
The place was kid-friendly and accommodating to young adults.  Back in the day, the Long House was available for periodic teen dances (hundreds of us packed the place.)  (Does anybody else remember the Vaqueros?)
 
We’d keep the Boston Whaler down there, and on a moment’s notice could run down and hoist it into the water for running around the Bay.
 
Back then, the clover-leaf opening in the reefs on the Marine Base side of the Club was the “ski lanes.” 
 
Two rafts were anchored across each other to keep you high and dry, while others in the group skied around the loop.  (It’s now used for mooring of larger boats.)
 
The Whaler also took us to all other points of interest on the Bay, camping at Coral Island, Kapapa and Chinaman’s Hat (Mokoli‘i;) fishing and diving across the bay; and just general cruising around.
 
In addition to the ski/cruising outboard boat, we first had the Mokuone, then Na Ali‘i Kai, then Lanakila fishing boats and regularly entered the Club’s fishing tournaments.
 
In addition to mooring and dry storage areas, the Club has two tennis courts, a swimming pool and a kid-sized wading pool.
 
And, it has a bar.  As a kid, that was some mysterious place that you were forbidden to enter.  We’d gaze in to see what was up.
 
I swear, looking into the bar, now, it looks like the same people sitting there sipping their cocktails – they must be the kids of the adults we used to look at.
 
There are swimming and sailing classes for kids and young adults offered throughout the year and plenty to do for the adults, too.
 
The first image shows the Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club as we knew it as kids, in a pre-1966 postcard noted in “The History of Kaneohe Yacht Club” book.  (This is the way I remember the club from small-kid times.)