NA MEA ʻĀWEʻAWEʻA I KA ʻĀINA: THE FAINT TRACES ON THE LAND

The island we have come to call Maui has had several names over the centuries. In ancient times, as suggested by Hawaiian historian Hainakolo, Maui was known as Kalua, or the two, suggesting the view that voyagers saw as they sailed to their new homeland, as Haleakalā and Pu`u Kukui rose from the sea.  Hawaiian historian Samuel Kamakau provides another name, Ihikapalaumaewa, whose precise meaning has now been lost.  While we can dissect the individual words that make up this name, the kaona, or deeper meaning of this name leaves only a faint trace on the landscape.  I would hope that the word ihi has the same meaning that it now holds, sacred, and that through the span of time the sacred regard I hold my home island matches that of the kūpuna.  I feel certain that it does.  This becomes especially evident when we think of the ancestral deities who made their home in Waihe`e.

Like the sense of the sacredness of the land that persists to this day, the first arrivals in Waihe`e are more accurately described as deities.  The first akua who leaves her mark on the land, Haumea, left a legacy of sacred life.  The story goes that Haumea arrived on the island of Oʻahu from her homeland of Nu`umealani during the reign of high chief Olopana (also written as Olomana).  Shortly after her arrival, the high chief of O`ahu’s daughter, Muleiula went into labor with her first child.  At this time in Hawaiʻi, all children were born through caesarian operations, which seems to have often resulted in the mother’s death. Haumea tells the chief that in her homeland, children are born without such an operation.  Prior to going into labor Muleiula had planted a tree, Kalaukekahuli, literally the tree of changing leaves, near her home.  Kalaukekahuli produced two blossoms, known as Kanikawi and Kanikawa.  Using the magical properties within these flowers, Haumea administers a potion while invoking a chant which eases the pain of birth.  The efficacy of Haumea’s lā`au lapa`au (medicine) became evident as Muleiula felt the child being forced out by the power of the flower of the two blossoms Kanikawi and Kanikawa.  As the child emerged, Haumea pressed herself against Muleiula’s thigh, and through this pressing the child was born, and Muleiula lived.

As an offering of gratitude for Haumea, Muleiula gave Haumea Kalaukekahuli, who first took this tree to Hawaiʻi Island.  After searching for, but not finding a suitable location to plant Kalaukekahuli, Haumea travelled to Maui.  This time she was more fortunate, finding the ideal conditions at a small hill just below the base of Mauna Alani (inland from Waihe`e School) known as Pu`u Kuma (or Pu`u Kumu).  However, Kalaukekahuli required some protection from the strong winds that blow at Waihe`e, known as Kamakani Kili`o`opu.  Haumea then set about constructing the massive dunes that begin above the Waiheʻe Stream at Kalaekaho`omano (Waihe`e Point), and extended them to the dunes above Wailuku Stream, at Pihanakalani (sometimes described as Pi`ihanakalani by kūpuna of Wailuku).  Although there are very few references to the name of this dune system, an obituary from the early 1950s that took place on the Waihe`e sand dunes described them as “Mauna Ihi.”  As mentioned above, Ihi means, among other things ‘sacred.’  Although the precise meaning in this context remains unclear, I like to think that this name commemorates the life-giving power of Haumea, and the story of Muliula and Kalaukekahuli.    

After planting Kalaukekahuli on Pu`u Kuma, Haumea taught the people of Waihe`e the secrets of midwifery, providing them with the wisdom and power to avoid unnecessary deaths during childbirth. Seeing that her time at Waihe`e had come to an end, Haumea returned to Nuʻumealani.  However, she leaves Kalaukekahuli at Pu`u Kuma to provide the medicine for both mother’s and children. 

Sadly, a man with a koi, a sharpened stone adze, nefariously cut down Kalaukekahuli, which resulted in twenty days and nights of a raging storm.  Although this unnamed man cut the tree down with the expectation of retrieving it at a later time, the intensity and ferocity of the storm washed it down the slope into Waihe`e stream (the stream we now call Kalepa; as what we now call Waihe`e Stream was then known as Wailua), eventually making its way out to sea.  The sacred power of Kalaukekahuli does not end there, however.  A large branch of the tree arrives in the bay at Kailua, on Hawaiʻi island, where the people saw fish schooled around it.  The fishing people of Kailua retrieved this branch and fashioned a powerful fish attracting stick, Makalei, out of this branch.  A second branch remained on Maui, where it was transformed into the temple image (Ki`i) of Kukeoloewa, and worshipped for many years by the chiefs of Maui.  An elderly couple found the the trunk of Kalaukekahuli floating in the ocean off of Oʻahu, and quickly recognized its sacred power.  Returning it to O`ahu, this portion of Kalaukekahuli became the temple image Kuho`one`enu`u, where it was eventually installed at Pakaka Heiau near present-day Fort Street in Honolulu.  Pu`u Kuma remains to this day, although the heiau that once stood guard over Kalaukekahuli remains only a faint trace on the landscape.  However, Mauna Ihi stands over Kapoho and the coast like a guardian, a kia`i, protecting Waihe`e from the powerful Kiliʻo`opu winds that blow so consistently, and reminding us of the time when the goddess Haumea lived among us. 

Maui the demigod, the heroic figure whose name has become synonymous with our island became the next deity to make an appearance in Waiheʻe.  Although some sources claim Maui’s parents as Papa and Wakea, most sources point out that his feat of snaring the sun came about as an act of compassion for his mother, Hina, who could not dry her kapa (bark cloth) due to the speed with which the sun crossed the sky.  Seeing his mother’s suffering, Maui set out to make the strongest rope possible to fashion the `aha `upena (coconut fiber net) to snare the sun and force him to comply with Maui’s demand to slow his pace down to lengthen the day and allow the kapa to dry.  Seeking the strongest most durable `aha (fiber) for the construction of this net brought Maui to the pond known as Pe`eloko, or Paeloko (both spellings are used).  In later years Pe`eloko became the receptacle into which all of the water from the lo`i kalo between Kalepa (what was formerly called Waihe`e Stream), and Waihe`e Stream (formerly known as Wailua).  While in later chapters I will touch on the function of Pe`eloko, and its role in agriculture in Kapoho (most of what is today the Waihe`e Refuge), the story of Maui`s presence in Waihe`e illustrates two important points, first, it confirms Waihe`e`s place as a wahi pana, as storied place.  Perhaps more intriguingly, however, it seems reasonable to conclude that stories of heroes found throughout Polynesia, and Maui-the-trickster stories are a virtual Polynesian staple, may point to a location of early settlement.  As I will describe below, there are numerous reasons to see Waihe`e as a location for human settlement, including scientifically datable evidence, but the mo`olelo and ka`ao, myths and stories provide a subtle glimpse into the history of Waihe`e from a time when nā akua, the deities walked the earth with us, and as we will see below, in ways that directly benefited the kama`āina, the people of the land.

The final appearance of deities from the wā kahiko, the ancient times, in Waihe`e comes from a journey around Maui taken by the gods Kane and Kanaloa gods of, among other things human affairs and wet agriculture, and god of the ocean, respectively.  All across Maui one finds legends of these two hoapili bringing water, wai, to the land, and in so doing enriching (ho`owaiwai) these storied lands.  As their story goes, Kane and Kanaloa often spent their time together drinking `awa from a natural pit known as Kanoa, at a location known as Kaulu, a location now seemingly lost to time.  While Kanoa’s exact location is unclear, the story suggests that it lies near the cliffs at the boundary of Waihe`e and Makamakaʻole (which is also the boundary between the Moku of Wailuku and Kaʻanapali).  Perhaps in a stupor from drinking `awa one of them looked down and spotted an `alae bird (it does not specify if it is an `alae ke`oke`o, or an `alae `ula`ula), and immediately threw a spear at this bird as it took flight.  The spear struck its target, and when it crashed down, the spear pierced the land, cracking it and creating a hole where water poured out. 

Of course, this sense of the sacred permeated all of Waihe`e and extended to features of the landscape in the remote areas up Waihe`e valley.  The pool at Eleile, far up Waihe`e valley illustrates this.  Long ago, two sisters named Eleile and Wailua lived near the head of Waihe`e valley where they spent their days making tapa in a large cave.  One day, torrential rains washed these sisters out of their cave, drowning them.  In their memory, the pond in front of the cave came to be called Eleile, while the river that flowed from this pond bore the name of Wailua in memory of Eleile’s sister.  The pond at Eleile, and more specifically the cave next to the pond where the sisters once lived, became the favorite spot to hide the umbilical cords (piko) of newborn children.  A mo`o, or dragon goddess, lived in the pond at Eleile, and anyone wishing to dive into the pond in order to hide their child’s piko would ask permission by tossing in a ti leaf or stalk.  The mo`o signaled permission to enter the water when the leaves of the ti swirled around.  However, if the ti leaves were dragged underwater, the traveler should take that as a warning not to enter the water, as they too would find themselves dragged under the water. 

Although I spend most of my time along the coast at Waihe`e, I have once visited the pond at Eleile.  It is among the most difficult hikes I have ever been on.  Any semblance of a trail or path up the valley has long since disappeared, and the way to Eleile must be navigated in the stream nearly the entire way.  Although only a short distance as the ‘apapane flies, navigating my way up the stream moving from rock to rock proved exhausting and extremely challenging.  Arriving at Eleile, however, I could sense an incredible sense of power.  As other kūpuna have noted, Eleile is both deep and dark.  The power of this pool, and the amphitheater that surrounds it exudes a sense of mana, and I came away from the experience simultaneously buoyant and exhausted.  I may never return there, especially since access has been severely restricted, but the sense of awe, what some theologians and philosophers describe as tremendum fascinans stays with me to this day.

Each of these stories illustrate the special care the gods took in caring for both the land and the people.  Whether this involved planting a sacred tree to ease childbirth at Pu`ukuma, gathering the sennit to make the net that snared the sun and slow his walk across the sky, which allowed the people to dry their kapa, or throwing a spear which facilitated the flow of the water, which enriched the land and the people, the special role of the gods lay in removing obstacles people faced, and improving the quality of their lives.  As gods in human form, the chifes replicated the actions of the high gods.  The high gods and demigods would eventually go away, like Haumea returning to Nu`umealani, but the people could find comfort in knowing that their chiefs took on this role of caring protector.  Soon, the people would come and a new reality would begin.