Nā Pana Kaulana o Keaukaha: Halena Kapuni-Reynolds and Wendy Mapuana Waipā
Nā Pana Kaulana o Keaukaha: Halena Kapuni-Reynolds and Wendy Mapuana Waipā
Hoʻolauna
ʻO Keaukaha ka ʻāina (Keaukaha is the land). ʻO Waiākea ke ahupuaʻa (Waiākea
is the ahupuaʻa [a type of land division]). ʻO Hilo ka moku (Hilo is the district).
ʻO Hawaiʻi ka mokupuni (Hawaiʻi is the island). This moʻolelo (story) is about
Keaukaha on Hawai‘i Island, and the wahi pana, or storied places, that can be
found along its coastline. Like all moʻolelo, what is described here reflects our
particular understanding and experiences of visiting these wahi pana with
friends and family. Note that the wahi pana we describe here are only a few of
those in Keaukaha. We chose to focus on six of these wahi pana because they
have played a significant role in shaping our community.
Our various genealogical connections to the area are typical of families
in Keaukaha. For instance, some ʻohana (family) have roots to this place that
predate the establishment of the Hawaiian homestead of Keaukaha in 1924
under the Hawaiian Homes Commission Act of 1920 (Mapuana), and some
ʻohana from other parts of Hawaiʻi settled in Keaukaha after receiving a lease
to Hawaiian Homelands (Halena). Whether our ties to Keaukaha are recent
or rooted in a deeper past, we recognize our kuleana (responsibility) to this
ʻāina (land, that which feeds us), to our families, and to the ancestors of this
land. Sharing the moʻolelo of our wahi pana is one way that we embrace this
Keaukaha
Hoʻokūʻonoʻono ka ʻāina i nā pulapula
‘Āina hoʻopulapula hoʻi o nā kupa, ʻo Keaukaha
The lands bring forth prosperity to the people
(The) Hawaiian Homelands of the natives
known as Keaukaha
twenty miles away at Kumukahi in the Puna moku (district). The beauty of
the vivid blue sky, populated sparsely by ʻōpua (cumulus clouds) floating lei
surely over the sea, is coupled by the calm ocean that beckons passersby to
enter its refreshing waters. One by one, we arrive at Puhi Bay. We park along
the yellow single-wire fence along Kalanianaʻole Avenue. Our visitors joining
us on a tour today offer a mele komo (chant requesting permission to enter).
We respond with a mele kāhea (chant calling out to guests to enter), welcom
ing them to our community. Together, we proceed to an old kamani maoli tree
that gazes eternally at the piko (navel, center) of Hawaiʻi, Mauna Kea. Our
huakaʻi (journey) has begun.
Welcome to Keaukaha, our home. Today, we are going to take you folks on
a walk along the coast to share with you some of the wahi pana, or storied
places, that can be found in Keaukaha. Teaching others of our wahi pana,
their names, and their stories is important because it ensures that the his-
tory of our community remains in living memory. We tell these same sto-
ries to the next generation of Keaukaha homesteaders so that they remain
Puhi
ʻO Keaukaha ka home o Puhi
Kahi e lana ai ka wai, ka home ʻolu o ka ʻohana
Keaukaha is the home of Puhi
Where the waters are still
the pleasant home of the (Nawahī) ʻohana
From the kamani maoli tree we walk two hundred feet to the east along cut
grass and ʻiliʻili (pebble-sized) stones. There we see a twenty-by-forty-foot
tent, a few portable toilets under the shade of an ʻulu (breadfruit) tree, and a
flagpole that prominently shows the Hawaiian flag. Cemented rock walls line
the natural curve of the shoreline, providing the perfect ledge for children to
jump into the crisp and clear waters that lie beyond. The tide is low at this
Kulapae
Kahi e pae mai ai ka nalu
E māewa ai ka wainaku i ke kai piʻi i Kulapae
The place where the waves meet the shore
Where the wainakū grass
sways rhythmically in the ocean
during high tide at Kulapae
Following the natural curve of the grassy coastline, we walk the length of
Puhi until we reach a small banyan tree growing along Kalanianaʻole Avenue.
Beyond it lies an old one-lane road that we walk on until we reach a small
puʻu near a grove of kamani haole whose far-reaching limbs tower over the
coast’s edge. We veer from the clearly paved pathway onto the grass, walk
ing straight toward the ocean and past the kamani haole. Numerous pōhaku
(rocks) line the shore on top of pāhoehoe (smooth lava) flats where limu and
wainaku grass thrive. As the waves roll in and out, a symphony can be heard
crashing gently on each and every pōhaku, producing a natural rhythm that
is unique to the area. ʻAʻama crabs scuttle along the pōhaku, searching for
places to hide from the unexpected visitors.
Here is Kulapae, an open field (kula) that used to be the location of a
paena waʻa (canoe landing). Like Puhi, Kulapae is another area that the Ke-
aukaha community uses heavily for various community and family functions.
The English nickname of Kulapae is “Hawaiian Village,” which refers to a se-
ries of thatched hale (houses) that were constructed here in the 1950s as an
attraction and a place for community members to sell their arts and crafts
Auwili
Puaʻi ka wai māpuna
A wili ka wai au o waho, ʻo Auwili
The springwater bubbles forth
Mixing with the waters
of yonder, (at the place called) Auwili
Keōkea
A ma ka lihi kai, hōʻea aku i Keōkea
ʻO ke ōkea i kaulana i ka hala kea, i ka loko iʻa,
On the seashore, we arrive at Keōkea
The sandy place that is famed
for the white hala and the fishpond
Carefully descending down the puʻu at Auwili, we make our way north toward
Apapane Road. We walk along the swerving pathway until we reach Lihikai
Road, turning left onto a narrower alanui (road) to continue our journey back
to the sea. Following the alanui, numerous manicured beach homes are seen
on the Hilo side of the road. On the Puna side, we pass by large overgrown
kamani haole trees growing in a thicket of grass and overlooking a hau-
covered swamp. As we continue walking, the horizon reappears. We descend
toward a peculiar white sand beach that is surrounded by beds of pāhoehoe
lava, creating a natural barrier between the beach and the open ocean. Look
ing toward Hilo, one sees a puʻu pāhoehoe (pāhoehoe outcrop) with a small
grove of hala growing on its peak.
We have finally reached Keōkea, one of the few places along the Keaukaha
coastline that shows up on historical maps because of its strategic location.
As the name of the area suggests, Keōkea, which literally refers to white sand
(ōkea), is home to one of the few white-sand beaches in Keaukaha. In the
past, the area was also known to produce white hala, though we do not know
whether this refers to the kī (fruits) or the lau (leaves). The swampy area that
we just passed is also noteworthy, for it is one of the few areas left in Keau-
kaha where nānaku, the native bulrush, thrives.
In local museums, we find numerous historical photographs of Keōkea
from the late nineteenth to early twentieth century. Whether they are scenic
shots of its picturesque coastline, pictures of Kanaka ʻŌiwi who lived in the
area, or images of malihini (visitors) sitting idly on a waʻapā (short canoe), it
was and still remains a favorite place for malihini to visit in Keaukaha. In fact,
through these images, we now know that there used to be a rock platform at
the top of the puʻu. We are currently doing more research on this wahi pana
in order to figure out what that platform was used for so we can better care
for it in the future.
During the early twentieth century, Keōkea and the surrounding area un-
derwent drastic changes. Lands that were initially leased by the government
as grants to haole and Kanaka ʻŌiwi w
ere eventually converted to fee s imple
title, resulting in the individual house lots that you see here today. Simul
taneously, Keōkea and the surrounding coastline was designated as a state
Keonekahakaha
I holo aku ka iʻa i kai ʻo Keonekahakaha,
Kahakaha maila nā lima o kanaka ma ke one
The place where the fish
swim in the sea, Keonekahakaha,
where hands sketch in the sand
From Keōkea, we tread carefully along the uneven coastline, walking through
patches of wainaku grass and pāhoehoe lava beds. We reach a point where we
take turns entering the ocean, half submerged, to make our way to the other
side of the path. Continuing along, the landscape changes. Pāhoehoe beds
give way to concrete roads and wooden pavilions filled with numerous cars,
trucks, locals, and tourists. The smell of burnt meat mixed with sunscreen fills
the air. We walk along the cemented rock wall that follows the natural curve
of the coast, stopping at an orange lifeguard shack that looks over a shallow,
sandy beach. The beach is filled with children and their families.
This is the last place on our huakaʻi today. This place is known as Ke-
onekahakaha, or Onekahakaha for short. Keonekahakaha is the most devel-
oped area that we have visited thus far. It provides us with a glimpse of what
the various places that we visited on this huakaʻi might look like if they are
designated as state parks and developed for recreational use. Although it is
one of our most impacted wahi pana in Keaukaha, we continue to remember
its history and try to recover the stories of this area and its significance to
our ancestors.
In Aunty Edith Kanakaʻole’s mele, “Nā Wahi Pana Kaulana o Keaukaha,”
she talks about a large kupua honu (supernatural sea turtle) that resided in
the area. The honu was cared for by some of the families that used to live
here.
A Mormon graveyard is also found here. It is the only physical reminder of
the Mormon church that was built in the area in 1906.