We have experienced the Leilani Estates lava flow, which transformed a significant part of Puna, endured the disruptions brought by COVID-19, witnessed the Maunaloa eruption, faced the devastation of the Lahaina fires and more recently, saw massive flooding that cleared out ancient waterways, washing away everything man-made in its path.

On top of that, the year-long Halemaʻumaʻu eruption has continued, as if Pele herself is renovating her homeland, undeterred by the national park’s presence. It has been a lot to endure, but we persevere.

Amid these reflections, I look out my window and spot my annual winter visitor, a kōlea, or golden plover, that I have named Smitty, searching for worms, grubs, and whatever delicacies he can find in the grass. He has been coming to my yard for eight years, just as long as these environmental changes have been occurring.

Before his arrival, my dogs would chase away all birds, but this kōlea was either determined or clever enough to reach a truce, allowing him to return every winter. I call him “him” because he proudly displays his black cummerbund and tuxedo plumage, ready for his elegant dinner before he migrates back to his summer home on the Alaskan tundra.

This bird makes me ponder why kōlea are sometimes given a bad reputation, seen as symbols of malihini, tourists, who come to Hawaiʻi, take what they want, and leave without giving back to the community. Yet, Hawaiian moʻolelo (stories) tell a different account.

Kōlea were seen as messengers and kāhuna (priests or experts), as told in the story of Papa and Wākea, wherein a kōlea reveals Wākea’s getting a little sumtin’ sumtin’ on the side with another wahine. Kōlea feathers were used in kahuna capes, and they also provided sustenance, being caught with long ʻilima or ʻulei snares.

According to a 1909 article in Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, boys would set up snares in fields where kōlea gathered before their migration, using ʻuhini, locusts, as bait. The boys would hide in the grass, calling out “Kīkīpē! Kīkīpē!” to entice the birds, and sometimes teasing, “ʻOleha! ʻOleha! Come here, land here, the eyes are set!”

When the kōlea went for the bait, their feet would get caught in the twine. The article mentions that kōlea breast meat is as tasty as akule fish. I realize I’ve digressed, but this history is an important part of how these birds are woven into Hawaiian life.

Personally, I see kōlea as remarkable navigators and timekeepers.

Every year, they travel between Hawaiʻi and Alaska with incredible precision, arriving just before the fall equinox and departing after the spring equinox. They are descendants of survivors, adapting and persevering despite modern challenges.

To me, kōlea are symbols of resilience. They remind me that each of us is descended from generations who endured and adapted to adversity, whether environmental, social, or otherwise. Our ancestors, just like the kōlea, survived and thrived by navigating challenges and changes.

So, perhaps the trials of the last eight years are challenges for us to navigate and endure together. The kōlea reminds me that resilience is in our DNA and that, like these birds, we can find our way through adversity.

To you, Mr. Smitty Kōlea, I offer my gratitude for the lessons and reminders you bring each year. Safe travels, and we make ready for your return again to my yard, a symbol of hope and perseverance.

The post Kōlea: A Symbol of Resilience appeared first on Ka Wai Ola.

This is a short story about my trip to London this past January. I was invited by the British Museum to the opening of the “Hawaiʻi: a kingdom crossing oceans” exhibit. I traveled with my two daughters. We were so excited to see our valuable Hawaiian heirlooms.

When we landed at the Heathrow Airport, my eyes caught a glimpse of a particular poster with the colorful treasured feathers from our beloved Hawaiian forests on a luxuriantly ornate cloak. It immediately took my breath away. My eyes began to well up with tears that cascaded down my cheeks due to the cloak’s beauty and because it resides separated from Hawaiʻi.

While we were traveling from the airport to our hotel we often saw the same poster. We saw it on the “Tube,” on various walls in the city, in all kinds of hallways, on top of taxis publicizing the days to visit the exhibit.

On the night of the opening, the first floor of the British Museum was full with people that were adorned from head to toe. Some wore kilts, some top hats with coat tails, and others wore Indigenous finery worthy of honoring our cherished items. It was said that a thousand people from all over the world were invited to the opening.

The evening started with some oli, hula, and speeches. Everything went well. If possible I highly encourage you all to go and see it.

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He moʻolelo pōkole kēia no kā mākou huakaʻi ʻana i Landana i Ianuali aku nei. Ua kono ʻia au e ka Hale Hōʻikeʻike o Beretania no kekahi wehena no ka exhibit ʻo “Hawaiʻi: a kingdom crossing oceans.” Ua huakaʻi pū au me kaʻu mau kaikamahine ʻelua. Ua pīhoihoi nō mākou e ʻike maka i nā mea hoʻoilina Hawaiʻi.

I ka pae ʻana ma ke kāhua mokulele ʻo Heathrow, ālai koʻu mau maka i kekahi pelaha hoʻolaha me nā hulu hoʻoheno o ko mākou wao nāhele aloha ma kekahi ʻahuʻula kahiko loa. Hāloʻiloʻi koʻu mau maka a hiolo wale i luna o koʻu mau papalina ma muli o ka nani kamahaʻo o ua ʻahuʻula ala a i ka noho kaʻawale ʻana mai Hawaiʻi aku.

Iā mākou e holo ʻana mai ke kāhua mokulele a hiki akula i kō mākou hōkele, ua ʻike pinepine mākou o ua kiʻi ala. Aia kēlā pelaha ma ke “Tube,” ma kekahi paia i ke kaona, ma kēlā me kēia holowē like ʻole a ma nuna o nā taxi e hoʻolaha ana i nā lā e kipa aku ai i ka hōʻike.

Ma ke ahiahi o ka wehena, ua piha pono ka papahele mua o ka Hale Hōʻikeʻike o Beretania me nā kānaka like ʻole i hoʻonaninani ʻia mai ko lākou poʻo a ka hiʻu me nā lole fancy. Komo ʻia kekahi kānaka i ka pāʻū Scotland, ʻo kekahi me ka pāpala silika, a kekahi Kānaka ʻŌiwi me nā lole ʻōiwi like ʻole no ka hoʻohano- hano ʻana i nā mea Hawaiʻi o ka hōʻike. Wahi a ka lohe, ua kono ʻia he hoʻokahi kaukani mau kānaka mai nā aupuni like ʻole o ka honua e ʻike maka i ka wehena o ka hōʻike.

Ua hoʻomaka pono ke ahiahi me kekahi mau oli, hula, a kūkaʻōlelo. Ua holo pono nā mea a pau. Inā hiki, e hele ʻoe a ʻike maka o ua mea waiwai Hawaiʻi ala.

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I love this time of the year when everything turns green from the rains, the air is cooler, the surf is up and sometimes a glimpse of lightning or snow makes a quick appearance. It’s definitely sweater weather in Hawaiʻi.

This month I thought I’d share a part of a longer chant that is affiliated with Lono and can be used during the Makahiki. Within the lines is a list of aka (signs) that are recognized as Lono indicating a weather system, typically rain, is on its way towards you.

This section of the chant talks about all the atmospheric happenings that we can expect during the wet season. Personally, I’d use this chant during the opening of the Makahiki ceremony, but since we have been having such good rains here in Hilo, I’m compelled to share the many types of rainbows and colors seen in the sky in the morning or just before sunset.

Why don’t we go out and look for some of these signs of winter? Wishing that your parched lands receive the restorative rains of the season! Aloha!

The post Nā Aka o Lono; Signs of Lono appeared first on Ka Wai Ola.

Speaking of transitions, in the old days this would have been the time when the fishing kuʻula, kuʻuna (Maui term), and papa uhe would have been closed in preparation for the Makahiki celebrations.

What is a papa uhe you ask? A papa uhe is an offering platform where fisherman, specifically ʻōpelu fishermen, offered their first catch (Fornander, 1919). Uhe is also the name of the ritual when offering the fish.

The primary source states that only the kāhuna make the offerings on the kuahu (ibid). The last offering would be made on the pō mahina of Kūkahi right after Piko o Wākea in the fall to close out all Kū practices and to prepare for the anticipated kuapola ceremonies.

You might be asking, what is the kuapola? Suffice it to say that the kuapola ceremonies were the original opening of the Makahiki season that were performed in Kona. The timing was as it is mentioned in the Kumulipo.

When the sun sets, the Hua moon rises, followed by the evening appearance of Makaliʻi in the east. This line up of celestial occurrences happens every year shortly after the Piko o Wākea on the Hawaiian malama of ʻIkuā and then again in the malama of Welehu.

So, when do the first and second kuapola happen this year? The first kuapola is scheduled to happen on October 4. The second kuapola will happen on November 3. For those who calculate the kaulana mahina, there is a 13th lunar month occurring this year between Makaliʻi (December) and Kāʻelo (January) called Hikikauʻelia. Please make your adjustments accordingly.

I bid you all a heartfelt Hawaiian Holiday Season and iā Lonoikamakahiki hoʻi!

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One of the things that I like to do is look to others who have overcome chaos and strife seeking solace for their own wellbeing. To me, the symbol of endurance is Queen Lydia Liliʻuokalani who was born on Sept. 2, 1838. While she was imprisoned in ʻIolani Palace, she chose to seek answers within the poetry of kō mākou (our) kūpuna in the Kumulipo.

This cosmological composition sanctifies chiefs and reminds them about the important people, events, and decisions creating Hawaiians. Did you know that there are many versions of the Kumulipo? Yes, many.

Some only focus on the first seven wā (epochs), while others only focus on the later nine wā, and then there are variations that swap positions of family lines to politically assure that one family was the senior line over other families considered a junior line, causing interesting family debates.

If you’re Hawaiian, you can trace yourself to one (or all) of the Kumulipo variations.

But wait! What I really wanted to talk about is an event that is happening on Sept. 14, 2025, at 6:00 p.m. on the grounds of the ʻIolani Palace.

About 60 chanters, from nearly every island of the main Hawaiian Islands, are getting together to chant the Kalākaua version of the Kumulipo in its entirety to honor Queen Liliʻuokalani’s birthday. Ranging from newbie to seasoned chanters, this project is providing new kincentric experiences through the study of the Kumulipo.

Led by Kumu Hula Kamuela Chun whose original hui chanted the Kumulipo in 1999 at the WIPCE (World Indigenous Peoples Conference on Education) in Hilo, and again in 2000 at various venues including the steps of ʻIolani Palce. He wanted to do it again this year as it marks 25 years since the first venture.

When asked why he did it in 1999, he poignantly replied that he wanted the words of the Kumulipo to be chanted and heard at the cusp, exit, and entry of one millennium into the other. Seeking other kumu, Kamuela invited me to participate along with Kumu Hula Kalani Akana, Kumu Hula Kaponoʻai Molitau, and Kumu Hula Mehana Hind. We have been meeting since October 2024.

Kumu and haumāna have been meeting virtually to learn the wā and to participate in workshops led by Kumulipo experts like Kumu Hula Dr. Pualani Kanakaʻole Kanahele who shared her learnings of the Kumulipo, Dr. Lilikalā Kameʻeleihiwa who taught about the genealogies of the Kumulipo, Dr. Kiana Frank who taught about the science of the Kumulipo, Kalim Cochran Smith sharing about his wife’s direct lineage to the Kumulipo, James Maioha who talked about Maunaʻala, and Kumulāʻau and Haunani Sing sharing about kiʻi akua uses. Join us!

To learn and chant the last five lines of the Kumulipo with us go to https://youtu.be/aOEAXSTa94I.

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Samuel M. Kamakau memorialized this battle cry of Kaʻiana ʻAhuʻula, a chief sent to make war with Keoua Kuʻahuʻula by Kamehameha I. But who was Kaʻiana ʻAhuʻula and what happened to him?

One of the most iconic lithographs made of an 18th century Hawaiian was based on a painting by Spoilum, a Chinese artist in Canton. It depicts a handsome, well-muscled Hawaiian warrior with contemplative features holding a spear and wearing a mahiole and ʻahuʻula. Below the sketch are the words, “Tianna a Prince of Atooi.” This is how most Hawaiians know of Kaʻiana.

There are many Kaʻiana – Kaʻiana, Kaʻiana Ukupē, and Kaʻiana ʻAhuʻula – found in stories recorded by Kamakau, Fornander, and Desha. It is often difficult to discern whether this is one person or several.

ʻO ʻAhuʻula ke kāne, ʻo Kaupekamoku ka wahine. Hānau kā lāua ʻo Keawe Kalanikuaiwa Kaʻiana a ʻAhuʻula he kāne. According to Kamakau, Kaʻiana’s father is ʻAhuʻula.

ʻAhuʻula is the son of Keawekekahialiʻiokamoku. ʻAe, THAT Keawe who is mentioned in the Kumulipo.

Kaʻiana is related to high-ranking chiefly lines from Hawaiʻi, Maui, and Oʻahu through both of his parents. Arguably, Kaʻiana might outrank Kamehameha’s genealogy.

It is unclear whether Kaʻiana was born on Kauaʻi or if his parents moved there after his birth, but he was raised there with his siblings (hoahānau) Namakeha and Nahiolea. With training in engineering, architecture, genealogies, weather and omen predictions, Kaʻiana was a learned man. Not much else is recorded about his youth.

Kamakau recounts that Kaʻiana sailed abroad for three years to various Asian and American lands befriending many along his travels. It is noted that he walked with distinction dressed in his mahiole and ʻahuʻula wherever he went, drawing crowds of people. He learned how to use swords and various munitions, and to speak other languages including English and Cantonese, learning about the daily lives of the peoples he visited.

When he returned home to Hawaiʻi, he was gifted cattle, goats, horses, citrus, plants, various weaponries, and gun powder – but the only things that survived the long voyage were his weapons.

When Kaʻiana arrived at Kealakekua, Kamehameha I was impressed by his ability to communicate with the foreigners and with his supply of weapons. Kamehameha gifted Kaʻiana with land and 12 waʻa kaulua adorned with ʻahuʻula to pursuade him to join his war campaign against Keoua, who was Kaʻiana’s first cousin.

Kaʻiana’s skill in communicating with foreigners was extremely valuable. He became an arms dealer for Kamehameha, Kahekili, Kāʻeokūlani and other chiefs who wanted to acquire the war tech of that era.

Kaʻiana also managed to impress several aliʻi wahine, including Kaʻahumanu and her mother, Nāmahana, who became his spies. He eventually had two wives, Kekupuohi and Loʻe. Kaʻiana also had a daughter, Kamakahalahalawai, whom he raised on Kauaʻi.

Kaʻiana and his siblings fought in most of Kamehameha’s battles on Hawaiʻi Island and Maui. Eventually, Kaʻiana became disenchanted with Kamehameha, and decided to support the Oʻahu people and Maui chief, Kalanikupule, after learning that there was a plot to remove him and his siblings from their status under Kamehameha’s leadership.

Kaʻiana and his siblings perished at Laʻimi during the Battle of Nuʻuanu.

The post Who Was Kaʻiana ʻAhuʻula? appeared first on Ka Wai Ola.

Thought I would talk about a healing chant that Samuel M. Kamakau shared in Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, on Feb. 2, 1867, for two reasons. The first reason is to learn a pule hoʻōla (healing prayer) together and the second reason is to direct you towards the original article where Kamakau published it.

True to the Hawaiian style of teaching, the article comes with a whole bunch of stories that are featured to help the reader formulate a pilina or relationship to the pule hoʻōla.

When it was published, Kamakau made sure to say that it was a healing chant used during difficult days and not a pule ʻanāʻanā or the workings of the devil. In fact, Kamakau talks about an event where this pule hoʻōla was used when a ship was sinking. Everyone who chanted survived and those who did not perished.

Kamakau also explains that part of the lines of the pule hoʻōla are older, used during a time when men went to the hale mua or the heiau to pray for the good health of their main chief, leaders, and community once in the morning and once in the evening. At that time this practice was called papaiaawa, or a place of worship or for family prayers.

Kamakau goes on to say that the ancient prayer mentions the famous sands of Laʻamaikahiki, from Koʻolaupoko, Oʻahu. Kamakau states (and I paraphrase here): “When you travel from Koʻolauloa to Waiāhole, you will pass Hakuikukui. Turn towards ʻAuliʻiliʻi Point on the edge of the road and when your foot steps into the sand, that is the sand of Mahina. Shuffle a bit and that’s Onehuna and Onehali of Kaipuiolea. Then, look for the wind, it is there that you will see the stones shaped like canoes called “Nawaʻaliʻiliʻiakiolea. Those are the markings of the canoes that arrived from the sands of Tahiti, mentioned in the chant.”

I’m not sure if these natural features still exist today out in Kaʻalaea, Oʻahu, but I do know that we tend to point towards those areas as the famous lands connected to Laʻamaikahiki and his canoe travels.

Kamakau’s article reminds me again how important it is to document the stories and natural features we see around us today. Who knew that 158 years later we would be talking about this chant?

1. E Kāne, e Keleakiu. Listen Kāne, the moving Kiu winds.
2. E Kāne, e Kelekeleakiu. Listen Kāne, the swift Kiu winds.
3. Onehuna, i Onehali. Orange hued twilight, signs of particle filled winds,
4. A Keleakiu, Kelekeleakiu, Aloft Kiu winds, the Swift Kiu winds,
5. Ke one i Māhinahina, Particles aloft in the white moonlight,
6. Ka ipu i ʻoʻoleʻa — a. The unyielding wind gourd.
7. E ola. Heal!

Learn the pule hoʻōla, E Kāne, E Keleākiu

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In the upcoming months I thought it would be fun to share some kūpuna wisdom by introducing you to some of my favorite Hawaiian phenological connections that are specific to Hawaiʻi’s environment.

You might be asking yourself, what is phenology? Phenology is the study of natural cycles, seasonal or natural phenomena as they relate to the timing of plants, animals, and climate activities. Data of parallel forms, growth cycles, and climate processes have been observed for generations and have been recorded in poetic song, story, or prayer. These poetic compositions highlight natural indicators that inform us humans on the conditions of a healthy or unhealthy environment.

For this article, I chose to feature two creatures in the kai (ocean) that are not the same species of fish but have been included in the origin chant called the Kumulipo. The Kumulipo is a pule hoʻolaʻa aliʻi, a prayer that sanctifies chiefs.

The creatures, timings, and environmental activities mentioned within the Kumulipo are all important to a chief’s rulership. On one hand, the Kumulipo teaches leaders resource, land, and people management. On the other hand, the Kumulipo acknowledges and highlights relationships that seem unrelated but are important for the continuum of human existence. Apologies, I digress.

This article’s phenological connection is a short one and features the relationship between the laupalaʻī (Zebrasoma flavescens) called pala for short, and the kala (Naso unicornis).

The Kumulipo says, “Hānau ka pala, hānau ke kala i ke kai lā, holo!” Paraphrasing: The yellow tang spawns, the bluespine unicornfish spawns together in the ocean, swim!

These poetic lines describe the aggregation and spawning cycles of the yellow tang and bluespine unicornfish, which is around spring and summertime. Their spawning cycles coincide with the fluctuating ocean temperatures that are nutrient rich.

These two fish species are important indicators for ceremonies connected to primary akua (deities/environmental processes) like Kāne and Kanaloa. When the pala and kala are active, communities prepared for the communal fishing seasons that followed shortly thereafter.

Lauʻīpala literally means yellowed tī leaf, which was used for Kāne ceremonies to release one from negative circumstances. Similarly, the word kala means to remove or release one from any transgressions or negative impact one may have caused or acquired. Look for these fish the next time you are near the kai during these summer months.

And that’s your Hawaiian Phenological Connection for this article. A hui hou kākou!

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My mind started thinking about all the other limu that was once abundant along our island shorelines, which then lead me to thinking about Native Hawaiian philosophical practices connected to limu.

Philosophical practices explain relationships between people, organisms, and natural phenomena in the environment that were observed, experienced, and then recorded in poetic compositions that were filled with vivid imagery to transfer environmental experience or empirical knowledge from one generation to the next generation.

Here’s a Hawaiian philosophical practice that is specific to limu. This column’s practice describes a ritual using seaweed for protection. We start with a description of the philosophy and end with the featured seaweed’s connection to the practice.

ʻOiʻo: Pronounced “Oy!–oh”

An ʻoiʻo is a procession of ghosts of a departed chief and his retinue, more commonly called huakaʻi pō in stories. Growing up, we were generally told if you happen to come upon a parade of ʻoiʻo you’re not supposed to engage with them, or they will take you with them. As kids, we’d often hear stories told by the uncles or aunties about the ʻoiʻo – which always kept us close to the adults when fishing.

Flash forward to today. While doing some research, I came across a tiny blurb about limu kohu and ʻoiʻo. It said that limu kohu (Asparagopsis taxiformis) was used to keep the ʻoiʻo moving along their pathway without disturbing people. If a person were to unexpectedly encounter the ʻoiʻo along the beach, a sprig of limu kohu was quickly plucked and the following words were uttered as a form of protection:

“Eia koʻu lauʻoio a me ka limu kohu, e hala aʻe ana ia manawa. He kama au na (inoa).” – H. Smith, Kauaʻi, 1911

Paraphrase:

“Here’s my sprig and my seaweed, continue on right now. I am a descendant of (insert the name of an ancestor).”

The word kohu means to “resemble” or have an acceptable similarity to something or someone. It was believed that the ancestor’s name would be recognized and so the person would not be bothered by the passing procession.

Limu kohu, in my opinion, is one of the best edible seaweeds in Hawaiʻi. In the old days, patches were cared for by families and communities so everyone could enjoy eating it. It was gathered, cleaned, and preserved in balls for easy access when needed. Limu kohu has a very distinct crunch and umami flavor. It is often eaten as a relish with a favorite fish and sometimes added to stews.

That’s the Hawaiian philosophical practice for the column. A hui hou kākou.

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