Kanaloa- Part 1: Ahupua'a of Kealaikahiki

                         Sailor's Hat, a crater formed by bombing in 1965

My notebook notes from Sailor's Hat visit.

Just a short ride from KIRC camp at Honokanai'a is a land feature known as Sailor's Hat.  It does not have a Hawaiian place name because it is not a traditional place.  In fact, it is a place whose very existence demonstrates a complete lack of respect for place.

In 1965, between February and June, the US military conducted blast tests using 500 tons of TNT on the south-southwestern shore of Kaho'olawe. The purpose of these tests was to determine the impact of so much energy on the radar and navigation systems of ships moored at various distances from the blast.  According to the narration on the official video documentation, the equipment was...

"tested to destruction".

The voice of the narrator is so detached as he describes the damages calculated for each piece of equipment. I feel myself becoming enraged all over again, connecting to the feeling I had when I viewed this site, over 50 years later on a bright, peaceful November afternoon.

Where does this feeling of rage come from? On some level I certainly understand that these tests were conducted in the shadow of WWII and just a few years after the Cuban Missile Crisis. I can imagine the position of the industrial-military complex at that time and the imperative there must have been to test our defenses against possible attacks from enemy forces.  There had already been an established tradition of testing weapons- both conventional and nuclear on Pacific Islands with little or no concern to environmental or human health, to say nothing of cultural resources.

Knowing more about these tests and seeing the result for myself is now part of the way I feel about Kaho'olawe.  I have been on the 'aina before, I had seen deep erosion and coastal runoff.  I had participated in coastal clean-ups where tons (yes, tons) or marine debris was removed from Kanapou Bay in just one day. Standing on the edge of this crater was something different. Knowing that the initial test of water in the pit were brackish and then, several years later, became nearly as salty as sea water supports the idea that these and other test are implicated in fracturing the water table. As close as this site is to the shoreline, it is reasonable to infer that the fresh water lens would be near the surface here and repeated detonations and the resulting energy transfer would be sufficient to start (or add to) the slow mixing of sea water with fresh water, devastating the ability of the aquifer to recharge.

I feel the wounds of Kaho'olawe now in a way I never did before. I have new ties to this place if to do nothing more than share its stories. For those with ancestral and cultural ties to Kaho'olawe it is Kanaloa- the manifestation of a god.  How dare this place be used as a bombing site.  How dare the short-sightedness of those who devastated this place only to render it fallow and barren and removed from cultural connection by virtue of the instruments of warfare and destruction that litter its sand and soil and water. I wonder if we've come far enough to somehow reconcile the actions of the US military in the 20th century with the viewpoint of cultural scholars like Oliveira who so seemlessly connect people to place

Just as people have an undeniable connection to their ancestors, many Indigenous peoples have attachments to place. We are an extension of our kupuna (ancestors, elders); they are an extension of us. We are an extension of the 'âina (land; that which feeds); the 'äina is an extension of us. Because traditional Hawaiians understood the connections among themselves, their kupuna and the 'âina, the concepts of aloha 'âina (love for the land) and malama 'âina (caring for the land) extended beyond the physical presence of the 'äina to include their spiritual connection with their ancestors and the 'äina. Traditionally, kupuna were often buried in their kulâiwi (ancestral lands). From these resting places, kljpuna continue to maintain their connection to the 'äina and to their succeeding generations of offspring who rely on the resources of the 'âina. 

I feel a responsibility for Kaho'olawe that I never felt before.  In my previous work as a marine science naturalist I would give a few cultural and modern historical notes to Kahao'olawe as we travelled by on our way to snorkel or whalewatch.  For the most part this was because you can't exactly ignore it! Kaho'olawe is more than an island off the coast to me. It is a place that grabs my attention and captures my wandering thoughts ("how are those 'aki'aki grass plugs doing, is there water at Moaulanui today?").  I have left my footprints and my sweat and the work of may hands on that place and am charged to work with my fellow teachers to bring whatever we can of Kaho'olawe to our kids. Kaho'olawe is kuleana for me now.  As we left the island, we chanted for release. We asked the squid-like tentacles of Kahao'olawe to let us go.  We were cautioned that we may have to do this oli several more times in the days and weeks to come- that Kanaloa does not always let go so easily.  The challenge is this- how to feel the tug of Kanaloa while moving away enough to move forward with the work at hand.

Maybe I better go do that 'oli one more time....