By Bobby Camara and Kaikea Nakachi
Imagine, if you will, sailing on a double-hull waʻa, bound for…well, you’re not sure where. Sailing for several weeks, with a cargo of 15-20 passengers, a few pigs or a pregnant sow, chickens, dogs, propagules of important plants, and then…ʻāina!
After landing, households are organized, land cleared, and agriculture begins. The ocean provides a bounty of foods: iʻa, heʻe (squid), limu, ʻopihi, honu; all for the taking. Giant flightless birds are clubbed and added to the harvest. Seabirds and those of the land, unaccustomed to people were easy prey.
Population grows. Birds become extinct, sealife thins out. Kapu (rules) are instituted to manage limited resources and penalties are severe for breaking them.
“Progress” progresses. Kapu are no longer observed, but some are replaced by Western laws, rules, and regulations. The population grows and all resources diminish – but the will of kamaʻāina remains.
Those of the ʻāina, and others, recognize detrimental change so coalitions are formed – people unpaid working for, and because of, aloha. With aloha for their ʻāina aloha, the skilled and the unskilled work toward common goals. They work with governmental agency staff, with communities, in the sea and on land.
Life in the ocean is studied, censused, measured, counted. What we knew 50 years ago no longer exists. People eat what can be caught, not what their ʻohana desires. Families forgo serving ʻopihi at ʻahaʻaina because there isn’t enough. And in time, the beginnings of a resources management plan for a Fisheries Management Area, is born.
At Kona ʻĀkau (North Kona), in Ahupuaʻa Kaʻūpūlehu and neighboring Kūkiʻo, kamaʻāina and supporters agreed: No fishing, no gathering for 10 years. They decided to wait, and continue to study and learn. They established monitoring reports and invasive fish hunts for taʻape, toʻau, and roi. Haumāna would study the sea and the intertidal, and count and measure too.
Known in the community as “Try Wait” it’s been a pause exercised with great discipline, so nā mea kai (ocean resources) can grow and replenish; so they can harvest from a place of abundance rather than depletion; so more can be fed, and so future generations are able to taste the ʻono of Kaʻūpūlehu too.
That particular section of expansive Moku o Keawe shore contains microcosms: shallows paved with 4,700 year-old pāhoehoe, conveniently close 120-foot deep contours and bouldered steep dropoffs, bathymetry reflecting topography. Lava flowing from Hualālai blanketed land, and over centuries the weight of Hawaiʻi caused the moku to subside, slowly, in minute increments.
During those 4,700 years, the shore sank about 30 feet, creating a variety of habitats driving biodiversity and biomass. Lots of different sorts of places to live, so lots of different species live together, and they weigh a lot, meaning kamaʻāina have foods of their ahupuaʻa to procure and to share.
The delineation of ahupuaʻa has a lot of merit, especially today. We understand that Boundary Commission testimonies of the 1870s state that ahupuaʻa boundaries “extend out to sea.” They did not simply stop at the high-water mark because it is recognized, then and now, that offshore waters are part of ahupuaʻa resources.
As recently as 50 years ago, some residents of Puna understood their place(s) geographically, and limited themselves to fishing where they should, rather than where they could.
Folks often proclaim their “rights” to whatever, wherever, however, whenever. But with rights come kuleana.
Collectively, our deep, abiding responsibilities are to ensure that those “rights” are enhanced, rather than diminished. Even at our cost of being upset or disgruntled, we must place our resources at the fore. We must, and we shall.
Politics and machinations of government require that state policy treat all citizens fairly. The state may not arbitrarily say “you can” but he or she “no can” without reason or cause. There should not be favoritism displayed.
And so we have community-driven Fisheries Management Areas such as at Kaʻūpūlehu, and Community-Based Subsistence Fishing Areas at Hāʻena on Kauaʻi, Miloliʻi on Hawaiʻi, and Kīpahulu on Maui.
Much has been learned, and there is still more to learn. Working from a base of depleted resources, the observations and data gathered, while complete at points in time, does not reflect the possible: What might life in our ocean look like after a time of purposeful rest, after a period of kapu?
If we can noho i waho a maliu (be outside and pay attention), we will continue to learn and base our best management practices on accurate data. Then, and only then, will “e mau ke ea o ka ʻāina i ka pono” be an accurate statement. The sovereignty of land and sea shall be perpetuated in righteousness.
Although the 10-year waiting period for fisheries within Kaūpūlehu and Kūkiʻo expires in summer 2026, the fisheries will only reopen if, and when, a Fisheries Management Plan is approved by the Board of Land and Natural Resources. A proposed plan includes bag limits, size limits, and, perhaps most importantly, seasonal kapu during periods of spawning.
Input is welcome and appreciated. To review the Draft Fisheries Management Plan and to share manaʻo, visit trywait.info and visit huikahuwai.org for additional information and resources.
History of “Try Wait”
Kamaʻāina from the ahupuaʻa of Kaʻūpūlehu and Kūkiʻo observed dramatic declines in their ocean food resources for decades. In response, they formed a hui – now known as Hui Kahuwai Marine Life Advisory Committee. In 1998, they developed an Integrated Resources Management Plan (IRMP) drawing on the ʻike kūpuna of ʻohana and lineal descendants of the region. This management plan led to the establishment of the Kaʻūpūlehu Fish Replenishment Area (KFRA).
However, in 2009, following 10 years of public failure to comply with voluntary fisheries management guidelines and the continuing decline in fish abundance, the community began to actively initiate development of a rule amendment to the existing KFRA. The amendment was designed to improve the health of the fishery so that it can sustain traditional fishing and subsistence practices in perpetuity.
In July 2016, with overwhelming community support, the State of Hawaiʻi approved the rule amendment for the KFRA, creating the Kaʻūpūlehu Marine Reserve. This established a 10-year rest period for the region (affectionately known as “Try Wait”) on nearshore fishing along 3.6 miles of coastline from Kīkaua to Kalaemanō, from the shoreline to depths of up to 120 feet.
