The far side of Paradise

Clad in a Hawaiian shirt and sarong and holding a ti leaf that “had asked to be picked and brought here,” Lyons was one of a panel of three Hawaiians whose topic was “The Healing Ocean.” About 100 people—spa owners, massage therapists, and healing gurus of all denominations—filled the conference room at the Ritz-Carlton Kapalua. In the back were pitchers of “pure” saltwater mixed with fresh, which the speakers were encouraging participants to drink as a natural cleanser.

“How do you find pure saltwater?” someone in the audience asked. While the other healers bemoaned how development had tainted the ocean, Lyons had a more enigmatic response: “You could take a fishing boat five miles out to sea and reach in to scoop out a glass of water. But you might be wearing suntan lotion; the fuel from your boat might mix with the water. So would it still be pure then?”

It was by coincidence, or maybe something stronger, that two days later I was back in H¯ana, holding hands in a circle and chanting with Kahu Lyons Na‘One and his two apprentices at Maui Stables. At LifeFest, Lyons had told me about the stables and the “cultural rides” he leads there. I wished I could ride with him, but he would not be back in Ki¯pahulu for a week, and I was scheduled to fly out. But

as I drove to the airport I had a strange feeling that there was something unfinished in H¯ana and I changed my flight.

As I pulled into the stables, just past the place Charles Lindbergh chose for his burial ground, Lyons was saddling up horses for the afternoon ride with two guests. He laughed when he saw me. “I changed my plans,” he said. “You too, it seems?”

I joined them. As we rode along Lyons pointed out two frigate birds, iwa or warrior birds, and talked about his specialty in healing: ho‘oponopono, or mediation. Lyons is a specialist in Hawaiian martial arts, served in Vietnam, and spent some time in Los Angeles acting as personal bodyguard to a movie star who is well-known for his martial arts films. When he returned to Maui, he began teaching a course in Hawaiian culture and mediation, and married one of his students, a lawyer from Massape-qua, New York. Until 1988, Hawaiian healers were forbidden to practice, and healing had been a dying art. “Now it is time to teach a new generation,” Lyons said.

His apprentice, Awapuhi Pi‘imauna, seemed to have learned well: She  showed us the small purple flowers that taste like mushrooms and keep your blood pressure down; the red-berried trees whose crushed leaves taste like pepper; the noni, which is said to heal bruises; and the kukui nut whose oil is used as everything from a moisturizer to torch fuel. The 30-something single mother also told how her dogs had cornered a wild pig the other day. She had whisked the hog’s legs out from under it and slit its throat with her pocketknife. She had only lost one dog. “In H¯ana, we say the only people who buy food from the store are either lazy or stupid.” Ironically, Ki¯pahulu means “to fetch from exhausted gardens.”

MORE FROM HAWAII TRAVEL

Hawaii Travel Section Front

True Hawaii Sacred territory Hawaii: A diver’s paradise Hawaii getting used to strict smoking ban Hawaiian cruise tips for thrifty travelers Aloha weddings Historic palace damaged, but blessed Hawaii looks to calm edgy tourists Hawaii dream vacations turn into nightmares The Polynesian adventure Hawaii Travel Section Front   Add Hawaii Travel headlines to your news reader: