Ka Leo O Hawaii

Issue date: 11/28/07 Section: News

Media Credit: Blane Benevedes One of the many danger signs that line the trails of Kaho‘olawe warns visitors that it is unsafe to dig because of possible explosives that failed to detonate.

Editor's Note: Kaho‘olawe, the smallest Hawaiian Island, is a former Navy bomb-testing site. No permanent residents live on Kaho‘olawe, and there is very limited public access to the island. Ka Leo contributing reporter Blane Benevedes visited Kaho‘olawe in October with a University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa ethnic studies class to experience the uniqueness of the island and learn about the Hawaiian concept of mālama ‘āina, "to care for the land." This is the first installment in a two-part series about the trip, with part two running in tomorrow's edition.

A chain of bodies stands atop a cliff as sea and sky before it merge in lavender, barely separated by a thin horizon as the early morning energy seals the moment. It's chilly with a light breeze and early for most, but everyone in the chain is focused.

Moments later, one of its leaders starts to clap: Pop-pop, clap! Pop-pop, clap! Pop-pop, clap!

The group joins in as sunrays meander over the horizon, into the sky and toward them. After a few rhythmic rounds, the members chant in unison:

"E ala e
Ka lā i ka hikina
I ka moana, ka moana hohonu
Pi‘i ka lewa, ka lewa nu‘u
I ka hikina, aia ka lā
E ala e!"

Slowly, the sun rolls into sight, and as it does, the group is revealed: teachers, professors, University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa students, schoolchildren, parents, business owners, cultural practitioners, environmentalists and more; 60 in all. Most had never even seen each other before; now they were together for the first time on Kaho‘olawe.

Kaho‘olawe, the smallest of the eight major Hawaiian Islands, lies seven miles south of Maui. It's hot and dry. There's no drinkable water. Scorpions, centipedes and spiders shuffle through its kiawe-thorned red dirt covering virtually everywhere students rest their sleeping bags.

A unique land, Kaho‘olawe was shelled by the U.S. Navy and its allies with every non-nuclear explosive in their arsenals for nearly 50 years, pock-marking its desolate 30,000 acres. In 1965, the Navy detonated 500 tons of TNT to simulate a one-kiloton nuclear explosion, a bomb so big that it broke the island's water table, disabling its freshwater capabilities forever.

Today, 76 percent of its surface has been cleared but only nine percent to a depth of four feet. Outlined by glowing orange warning signs, approximately 24 percent is still not cleared and unsafe to enter. But look past all that and one can find the most eerily lovely place on the planet.

Ka Mālama ‘Āina: Caring for the Land

"It's a rough land," said Keola Pā, a UH Mānoa Hawaiian Studies major and first-timer to the island. "But, it's healing. There's a healing power that just pours over this ‘āina."

Pā, along with 14 other UH Ethnic Studies students experienced the healing power of Kaho‘olawe during the third weekend of October on a field study geared toward understanding and perpetuating the Hawaiian concept of mālama ‘āina, meaning "to care for the land."

"Kaho‘olawe offers an opportunity for us to do physical work but also to incorporate a more holistic approach with the greater realms," said the group's coordinator, Davianna McGregor, UH ethnic studies professor.

The class left Honolulu for Kaho‘olawe on Wednesday, Oct. 18, via airplane and landed on Maui. The students' first night was spent under the boundless hospitality of Bobby Lu‘uwai, an uncle from Makena, whose Maui shorefront home seemed almost to touch Kaho‘olawe.

The following morning the students began what was to be a long day before them. The air was crisp in the darkness, the ocean swept over the shore in its one-of-a-kind rhythm. The travelers were seemingly the only ones awake for miles. But, one by one students crept out of their sleeping bags and onto the dew-blanketed grass, as even Makali‘i, the Pleiades, a symbol for Kaho‘olawe's revitalization rested overhead.

The next leg of the group's journey belonged to the Pualele, Uncle Bobby's double-decker fishing boat, docked out of Maui's Ma‘alaea Harbor. Kaho‘olawe can only be reached by the fishing boat. However, the Pualele could only hold so many of the group's members at a time, so they were divided into three different shifts, aptly named "boats."

"On the Pualele, Uncle Bobby is God," said Kekaulike Mar, an established member of the Protect Kaho‘olawe ‘Ohana, the group's hosts for the week, during a water safety orientation the night before.

Kaho‘olawe has no boat landings, so when the Pualele reached the island an hour later, Uncle Bobby got as close to shore as possible. There, a smaller, more maneuverable vessel driven by "Uncle Maka" Makanani, one of the PKO's most experienced and respected members, greeted the Pualele.

Before the group boarded the zodiac, however, the visiting members had to present a Hawaiian chant of requesting permission, which was responded to by a chant of consent given by Uncle Maka. The interaction was an example of the fusion of old and new in Hawai‘i, a mix of modern technology and traditional humanity. After consent was given, travelers on the first boat split up and half of them boarded the zodiac.

"Whoever's driving the zodiac is now God," Mar said the night before.

And not listening to God on Kaho‘olawe can get a person killed.

Part two: Group continues to protect Kaho'olawe, Nov. 29. The second part of the Kaho‘olawe story and the work students did on the island.

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