Kimokeo Kapahulehua
Kimokeo Foundation president and founder,
waterman and voyaging outrigger canoe paddler
Photo by Chris Amundson
“Capturing the ike, the knowledge, of the kūpuna is important. Many of us, we’re getting up there in age. I’m 76 years old. Others are older, 80-something years now.
We were young at one time, but we never know where we’re going to be, these guys.
Seriously, considering this, I just wake up every day to educate, preserve and perpetuate our culture — what was given to me by my dad, my mom, my grandma, my grandpa, my uncles, my auntie.
At the time, being a young child, you just go with them. They tell you what to do and you do it. Today I reflect on that lesson. It’s a basic lesson we all teach: e hoolohe, to listen; maka e nana, to observe; hoopili, do exactly as they say; paa ka waha, always keep quiet. You can learn more if you keep quiet.
I took a trip to Niihau once to visit my uncle. It was a real experience. He was the educator for the one school there. It was held in an old church. They taught everybody in that church, from kindergarten all the way up to eighth grade.
I’m a diver and a fisherman, so my uncle was going to take me fishing. It took us all day to get there with a horse. When my dad dropped me off, my uncle introduced me to a really big gentleman with three stomachs.
I spent four days with him, and the only thing he said to me was ‘eh, eh, eh.’ That first night, he had a bowl of poi, ate dry fish and went to sleep. And I fed my own self.
The next day we went fishing. I thought he was going to give me goggles and a fin, a spear gun and a spear. But that was not so. He fished, and he fed the sharks, which scared me. I swam alongside with no equipment, and he just kept feeding them.
When he had many fish on his line, he turned around and came back. We ended up with six sharks following. He went on the rocks and fed them, and they walked on the rocks with him, like puppies. Then he would push their nose, and back out to sea they go.
He put the fish down, went up to the house and did his thing. He never said anything else. I guess he left the fish for me to clean, so I cleaned it and hung it up. He cooked the fish, ate it and went to sleep again. Four days later, when my dad returned with the horse, I was like a green frog. I leapt onto my saddle; I was ready to leave town.
I look back on that time, and it was a lesson for Kimokeo. No one needs to tell you what to do. You just need to do what you think you should do and follow the kūpuna. Ke ala kahi au mau kupuna — the pathway of our ancestors — follow it for fishing or whatever, and you will never really be taken into harm’s way.
My grandpa and my father and my uncles didn’t fish every day. They knew there was a time to fish and time not to fish; when the fish gave eggs and when to let the fish get bigger. Kuleana. Be a responsible fisherman, like your kūpuna, then pass your knowledge on to the next.
I have a son, a grandson and a great grandson. I have a daughter, a granddaughter and a great granddaughter. I have four generations with me, and each needs to carry on the gift of responsibility, of kuleana.
We’re planning a voyage in a single-hull canoe over open water during a time of climate change. Traditional weather patterns probably will not prevail. We’re going to feel the change. You notice it when you’re in the ocean.
Once you leave land, you go from the known to the unknown. You have to look forward with positive thoughts, positive feeling and positive action. Life evolves every day, and everyone has their own journey. And those challenges we face are opportunities.
We have many cultures today, and we’re all in the same thing. He waa he moku, he moku he waa — there’s an island in the canoe and a canoe on the island — we’re all in the same canoe.”
