Hotmail
The far side of Paradise
In Hawaiian culture, ahupua‘a are pyramids of land that embody a variety of ecosystems: They begin with a mountain gully, slope down broad hillsides, and end past the coastline, encompassing the reefs and ocean waters. If it is cared for properly, each ahupua‘a can sustain a community. Reverence for the land and malama‘ aina, the care of nature, is central to the Hawaiian culture, Lyons explained. Before riding into the sacred, fenced off area of the Ki¯pahulu Gap, Lyons performed a chant to ask permission of the ancestors to cross the land.
“What will happen to this place? How can H¯ana survive?” I asked Lyons afterward. “We came here by canoe and we were not meant to stay here,” he said. “In 2012, the end of the 26,000-year-old Hawaiian calendar, we will plan our next migration.” He described his plans to build a double-hulled canoe in the year of the precession of the equinoxes, and go first, as was ordained by the ancestors, to Necker Island, eight miles from the Tropic of Cancer, on the solstice. “From there it will be decided where we go—possibly to an island in the South Pacific, to colonize a new place,” Lyons said. “The land here must be rejuvenated. We will find another island.”
Before the kahuna left to ride back to the stables, it occurred to me to ask him if he knew Eddie Pu. “He’s my godfather,” he said.
Driving back from the stables, I pulled into the parking lot at ‘Ohe‘o Gulch. It was late afternoon, and the light was sinking. I walked briskly up the trail that runs beside the Pipiwai and Palikea streams and the series of spectacular falls and pools. Strawberry guava grew all around, and the scent of ripe fruit filled the air. The two-mile path went past wild mangoes, past banyan trees with trunks the size of VW buses, and through a dense forest of black bamboo rising 50 feet high to form a tunnel of darkness. At the end of the tunnel I could hear water. Soon I saw it: 400-foot Waimoku Falls. I dove into the pool by the falls, washing away the dust from the ride and feeling the mist from the falls on my face.
It was almost dark as I ran down the trail, and the parking lot was nearly empty. A ranger was herding people away from the seaside pools. I snuck by him and soon had the lowest pool to myself.
I sat there, listening to the waves, watching the giant full moon rise over the Pacific, and remembered the chant we had done before heading up into the hills, a chant Native Hawaiians use to banish all negative thoughts:
He mu oia (silence them).
He mu (silence)!
He mu na moe inoino (silence
the subconscious),
Na moemoe a (the conscious),
Na pu nohunohu (the irritants),
Na haumia (the filth).
He mu oia, eli eli (have we
achieved)?
He mu ia‘e (yes)!
Noa (clear).
Noa (clear)!
Noa ka honua (the earth is clear).
Each issue of ISLANDS Magazine explores the most beautiful island destinations in the world, from tropical island outposts to the sophisticated gems of the Mediterranean. Our top-rate photographers and writers discover the quiet beaches, boutique hotels, and unique cultural experiences that make island travel unique.
- Discuss Story On Newsvine
-
Rate Story:
View popularLowHigh - Instant Message
MORE FROM HAWAII TRAVEL |
 Hawaii Travel Section Front |
| Add Hawaii Travel headlines to your news reader: |
Resource guide