Huaka‘i Kaho‘olawe Day 4

By Neola Caveny

For the last time, the sound of the pū wakes us, and we scramble to pack sleeping bags and night clothes, leaving us in bathing suits and wetsuits in the pre-dawn chill. There’s a fire built on the beach, and some of us huddle around it – not so much for the physical warmth as for the sense of companionship with people with whom we have formed a bond, however temporary. Sitting on a log, I talk with Kukui, from Wai‘anae, O‘ahu, about taro lo’i restoration projects there, and how that relates to similar projects on Maui. Why haven’t we talked before? Oh well – next time.

This time, there’s more surf, although not bad, as we pass ukana out to the Zodiac. A slightly bigger wave comes in, and I go under for a minute, looking up just in time to see a 3 foot cooler go sailing about 2 inches over my head. I discover that getting into a Zodiac from the water is several degrees more difficult than getting out of one.  I get stuck over a pontoon, half in and half out, until Namaka notices my predicament and pulls me in to flop in the bottom of the boat like a beached ahi. Only then do I notice one of the kua in the water nearly drowning from laughter (you know who you are).

In the excitement of getting aboard the Pualele, now captained by Uncle Bobby’s son Kalei, I realize that we haven’t done the chant of release from Kaho’olawe. The six of us up in the bridge start the chant, even though we can’t hear anything from below, between the sound of the engines and the surf. I’m told later that we received the response from Derek in the Zodiac, so we should be able to sleep without dreams of Kaho’olawe every night – which wouldn’t be such a bad thing, either. We ask Captain Kalei what’s the highest surf he’s ever experienced getting people off the island. He answers “Oh, about 12 to 14 feet.” Suddenly, we don’t feel so brave.

A rougher passage to Mākena than on Thursday, but still with many whale sightings, and then we’re into the water again and passing ukana to shore. There are juice and donuts available, and a freshwater shower, and many people rush to it, cold though it is at 7:30 AM. Somehow, it doesn’t seem so important to me now – me, who couldn’t stand the feel of salt water drying on my body, much less my hair, for more than a few minutes.

About an hour and a half later, the Pualele reappears, followed by the Zodiac, and the last of our ‘ohana and ukana splash ashore (note to self: next time, divide dry clothes between both bags, in case one doesn’t make it on the first boat). It’s a bittersweet time—so much experienced in a short time, too much to be expressed to too many people we may never see again. I contrast this with my experiences of coming down from a two week backpacking trip in the mountains on the mainland, when all I could think of was a hot shower and a cold beer – and I don’t even drink beer, normally. Today, I’m in no hurry to go home.

I’ve been back almost two days now, and I’m still under the spell of Kaho’olawe (perhaps we didn’t do that chant of release as well as we should have). I was here on Maui in the 70’s when Kimo Mitchell and George Helm were lost, and my thoughts have often been on that island since. I finally made it over there, and the experience was all that I had imagined, and much more. This is a legendary and sacred place—wahi pana—a place of healing. And not only for native Hawaiian people. Anyone who opens themselves to the mana of Kaho’olawe can be healed, as the island itself is being healed.

Mahalo nui loa. Ho’i hou wau – I’ll be back.