ʻO Kihawahine Ka Moʻo Akua a Waiheʻe: Kihawahine The Dragon Goddess of Waiheʻe

Today, those who are sensitive to it report the most palpable legacy of the Pi`ilani family’s presence in Waiheʻe in the form of the Mo’oakua, or dragon goddess, Kihawahinemokuhiniakalama`ulakalā`aiheana, or Kihawahine. Chief Piʻilani and his wife Lāʻieloheloheikawai had four children, including their two sons, Lono and Kiha a Piʻilani and two daughters, Piʻikea, who married ʻUmi a Liloa, and Kalāʻaiheana, who later became a moʻoakua. Although some histories indicate that the children of these chiefs were born in Lāhaina, other traditions suggest they were born in Hāna. While we may not be able to resolve those questions easily, we can be certain of Piʻilaniʻs presence at Waiheʻe at various times. According to some traditions (and the traditions vary substantially), Kalāʻaiheana was transfigured into the moʻo, or dragon goddess, Kihawahine when she died. Kamakau notes that “Kihawahine was a famous moʻo, perhaps because she had been a chiefess and an ancestor of chiefs, and had been born a real human being. But when she was transfigured she turned into an ʻeʻepa, a moʻo.” Kihawahine had numerous forms and names, and was known on several islands, but through tradition, and several kūpuna who have shared their moʻolelo over the years, Kihawahine also dwells in Waiheʻe and remains a powerful force on the landscape. 

Kamakau has a detailed account of the process of transfiguration (kakuʻai) into a moʻo. While the process is complex, the story of this process lies at the heart of how Kalāʻaiheana became the moʻo Kihawahine, and how her presence remains at Waiheʻe to this day.  Kamakau describes this process, which often took place on the edge of fishponds or wetlands: 

“When a chief was to be transfigured, the first thing was to erect a seperate house...with a wooden fence around it, and to collect in it offerings of light yellow and dark yellow tapa wraps and skirts-tapas dyed with ʻolena or noni.  The house was called a hale puaniu, and in it offerings wer made with ʻawa.”  

Once the ʻohana had prepared the hale puaniu and the preparation of pigs and dogs of various colors and patterns had taken place, the bundle of bones, or the entire corpse, wrepped in yellow kapa, was laid in the water. The family made offerings to the moʻo who had arrived to oversee the process of kakuʻai. After several days filled with consuming ʻawa, dog and pig, the spirit of the deceased family member transfigured into a powerful ʻaumakua moʻo: 

“Thus these many-bodied beings, the kino lau ʻeʻepa, became very strong, and would reward the living by bringing them prosperity... giving them fish and other material things, teaching them what medicines to take...instructing them in the knowledge of seers, kilokilo, and prophets, kaula, and teaching them to interpret visions and to call up the spirits of the kupua [heroes] people and of ancestors and relatives.” 

In what remains of Kapoho village (sadly, much of it was badly damaged during the Second World War) on the edge of a fishpond, a small platform stands to this day.  Knowing of the presence of Kihawahine as an ʻaumakua of this ʻāina, I have wondered if this is what remains of a hale puaniu, as Kamakau described it. While no kūpuna has described it as such, its location between Kapoho village and loko kalo iʻa (fishpond) raise the question about its function.  

Two particular stories demonstrate that Kihawahine continues to live and thrive in Waiheʻe. The first comes from a cowboy who worked for the Waiheʻe Dairy, and who recalled an incident in the 1950s. According to this kupuna as he was bringing the cattle to the milking sheds on a wet day, he looked across the wetlands into the fishpond and noticed a strange movement on the water, a sort of turbulence just under the surface. As he looked closer, in disbelief, he saw the form of a woman emerging from the water. He immediately dismounted his horse to get a closer look. Convinced that someone had become stuck in the wetlands (which had filled up due to the rain), he rushed into the middle of the pond, struggling in all of his clothing for this unknown person he was convinced was in distress.  

With his arms flailing and desperate to rescue this person, he searched and searched until, nearly exhausted, he gave up. By this time, other dairy workers had heard his shouts and began to gather to watch this spectacle. After finding nothing in the dark, murky water he gave up, and came up to the shore where he was joined by the other cowboys. Slightly embarrassed, he explained what he saw, and searched the group for some answers. Finally, someone stepped forward and said that he had probably seen Kihawahine in her human form, visiting this place that she once knew when she was alive. While this cowboy may or may not have been convinced by this story, sightings of Kihawahine, while not common, continue to occur to this day.  

The second story comes from Mr. Charles Kauluwehi Maxwell, with whom I had the honor of serving on the Maui/Lānaʻi Island Burial Council with from 2005 until 2009. Knowing of both my aloha for Waiheʻe as well as the fact that I worked there, he frequently encouraged me to learn more about this wahi pana, and to understand the moʻolelo that makes Waiheʻe special. On one occasion he asked me if I was familiar with Kihawahine, and that she was known from Kapoho in Waiheʻe.  

I answered that many of the kūpuna of Waiheʻe had mentioned that the land of Waiheʻe, and Kapoho in particular, was kapu to her. After reflecting for a few moments he leaned back in his chair and asked if I wanted to hear his story of Kihawahineʻs presence in Waiheʻe. Of course, I was very eager to learn more, as his stories were always very powerful.  

In the late 1980s Wailuku Sugar Company (who, by then was Wailuku Agribusiness) had sold what is now the Waiheʻe Refuge to a Japanese-owned destination golf course company known as SOKAN. The sale of Waiheʻe, for some, caused a great deal of sorrow and anxiety for the future of this land. It was believed, probably justifiably so, that, once the land became a golf course, the stories, myths, and legends which are essential for telling the story of this ʻāina would be lost forever.  

With this in mind, numerous cultural practitioners and kūpuna came forward to grow close to the land, before it was changed forever.  On one particular day, Uncle Charlie and his wife Nina brought down their hālau from Pukalani to perform in front of the Kapoho fishpond at Kalae’ili’ili. During their performance one of the dancers looked down to see a centipede crawling up her leg; without flinching, she continued the performance and the centipede fell away without biting her. Uncle Charlie was convinced that this hō’ailona was Kihawahine expressing her gratitude for the performance. Uncle Charlie continued his commitment to Waiheʻe for many years, and with him in 2007 we returned 12 sets of iwi kūpuna to their final resteing place on the Waiheʻe Refuge.  

The presence of Kihawahine continues to this day, and many people over the years have told me they can still feel Kihawahineʻs presence, and the presence of many kūpuna at Waiheʻe. Honoring her story and the stories of all those generations who have come before us is lived through our enduring connection to the land, and the relationship we cultivate with the wahi pana of Waiheʻe when we ʻhuli nā lima i ka lepo’ (turn our hands into the soil) to heal the land.  

— Dr. Scott Fisher