Ko makou kuleana ka huki pono `ana

Being a part of Iosepa is one of the greatest experiences I've ever been a part of. The time period from February to November of 2001 will always stand out in my mind as a kind of dream. Of course, a lot of important things happened from November to the present day as well and also have an important place in my heart.

I remember that when the massive Dakua logs arrived from Fiji and were unloaded in Laie, I could tell that something incredible was happening right in front of me and if I didn't take advantage of the opportunity, I was going to miss out. At that point in time, I had decided that although Hawaiian issues and Hawaiian studies was important to me, it wasn't going to be my focus. After all, I was a history major and Hawaiian studies undergraduate student and I was a writer for the school newspaper. I planned to graduate in December 2001 and leave Laie and look at some kind of graduate school or law school.

But when the logs landed, my plans changed. It was like one of the loving slaps to the back of the head that Tuione used to give us when we weren't paying attention at the canoe site. The logs landed and there was a blessing ceremony that I was invited to participate in, but I didn't go to because my girlfriend at the time wanted to go to her friend's wedding party. I remember really regretting that I missed that ceremony. Tuione didn't waste time getting to work after that either. In a matter of weeks, he had the logs cut open and had them hollowed out. I would go to the site to help here and there, but I felt like I was really missing out because so much progress was made so quickly. Soon after that, I started working less hours at the newspaper so I could work at the canoe and I broke up with my girlfriend.

I remember some of the guys that were there at the very beginning were there every day. I remember a lot of their faces, but not all their names. Uncle Keawe Enos was there, an old fisherman from Hau`ula would come, Chuck Andrus, the surfboard shaper would come now and then, Lono Logan and a whole bunch of people from Laie that had ties to the ocean would come. There was also a big group of young guys that would show up - some guys that had full time jobs, some guys that didn't have any jobs and of course a lot of the students and occassional tourists. It was a pretty diverse group of people. Tuione would make imu a couple times a week to attract community people that he would unwittingly put to work. Whenever he had a big group of people he would have them push big pieces of the logs to this side or that side or rearrange them. During the first few months that the logs were becoming hulls for the wa`a, he needed a lot of brute strength to unite massive pieces of wood together and to dig them out with the adze (ko`i). After that he needed strength in spurts, but he needed a thousand hands to do a lot of patient sanding and finish work. Of course, Kawika was on board with the project from the beginning, but he was still transitioning from his old job to work full-time for the program.

My first impression of the canoe was that it was a great community project. Tuione made the wa`a site an open exhibit for anyone and everyone to come visit. Tuione would show up at 7 a.m. and leave some days after 10 p.m. at night. The sound of one of his many chainsaws or his high pitch screaming was always a welcome sound. Although Tuione was always criticizing us and scolding us for messing up this or that, he did it in a way that was never offensive. He was fair in his criticism and spread it out equally between the workers and leaders.

My previous experiences in those types of projects is that there are those on the inside that are welcome to be there, and there are those on the outside that are not welcome. For Tuione, there was no out or in. Everyone was in whether they were there for ten minutes or every day for ten months straight. I remember Tuione talking about that when the wa`a was blessed. He told a story about some Chinese students that came one night when he was working there all alone and they brought him a cheeseburger from McDonalds. It was those kinds of things that made him feel like the canoe was a success. It was a community that was created, united behind a goal, a dream of building a canoe. Every hand that went into the building of it added to its mana.

When the canoe was later driven through Laie to Hukilau beach, the people that were on the canoe were some of the people that had helped build it, but were mostly the people that were going to help sail it for the first time. That journey was a new journey.

I was lucky to be part of those first two groups of the canoe. I met so many awesome people and some of my best friends to this day.

Andy was like Tuione's adopted son. Andy literally gave %100 to the wa`a and the program. He spent way more hours there than he was paid for. He was the go to guy in the beginning. Andy was also always available when we needed something.

Paliku and Jude started coming to the canoe together. Paliku had just gotten off his mission and I think Jude had just started at BYUH earlier that year and was living with Paliku's family. Both of them would come in their big trucks.

We would just hang out there at the canoe like we were little kids and it was our clubhouse or something. I remember sleeping over there more than a few times with those guys and waking up really early in the mornings to do this or that. Things were always so much fun with those guys there. I'm sure we did a lot of work, but it hardly seemed like it because we were always laughing.

It's funny, I know by fall 2001 we were all in school full-time and all working and all doing canoe stuff and extra stuff like cultural night, but we were still at the canoe every spare minute. That last stretch was extra busy getting all the preparations together.

I remember Uncle Cy Bridges coming to the wa`a and composing a chant for the wa`a. There were a lot of dignitaries and even apostles and President Hinkley that came as the canoe was being constructed or shortly after its completion.

The canoe was basically constructed and had all the riggings and the basic outfittings for sailing a few days before it was launched. All the riggings and outfittings were later redone and adjusted for rigors of real sailing.

John Ka`imikaua oversaw the `aha `aina to celebrate the birth of the wa`a and its entry into the ocean. It was an amazing ceremony and I was so glad to be a part of that when I had missed the first one before construction began.

Elder Ballard blessed the canoe. He discussed the name Iosepa that is linked to his great grandfather Joseph F. Smith, former President of the Church and famous missionary in Hawai`i. Elder Ballard said he felt that the project of building the wa`a had inspiration from both sides of the veil.

I really feel like that was the time when I needed to be at the wa`a. Everything in my life had opened up and pulled me to the wa`a at that point in time. It was a lesson in kuleana for me. It made me so appreciative for the tremendous work ethic, community spirit and courage that our ancestors had as they mastered the art of canoe building that allowed them to voyage out into Ka Moana Nui. Building a canoe is a voyage in itself before the canoe even touches water.

It was a spiritual journey for me and very personal. That experience affected me in ways that will always be a part of me. I ended up enrolling in more school and getting a dual major in Hawaiian studies and I'm so glad I did. I needed to feel kuleana towards my culture and my ancestors to give my life guidance and Iosepa gave me that.

Looking back on it, I realize that there was a period of time when there was an amazing group of people that came together to build a canoe. Uncle Bill, President Shumway, some of the donors like Ira Fulton, President Ballard, John Ka`imikaua, Clay Bertlemann, Chad Paishon, Tuione, Kawika, Kamoa`e, Ka`umealani....plus all of us students, a thousand community members and all of our ancestors. All of us were needed for our talents at that moment in time. Some of that group are no longer around, physically...none of us will physically be around forever, but just as our ancestors helped guide our individual spiritual development and the Iosepa project in particular, our spirits will always be part of and support the good journey that Iosepa represents. Tuione was talking once in a small gathering and I remember him saying something about how Iosepa will continue on to bless a lot of people. He said that there will be a day when he would be gone, when Uncle Bill would be gone and I think he said President Shumway, but he said that there would be a next generation of people (he was basically saying us...the students at the time) that would come in and would continue to do the things that he did and that Uncle Bill did and that President Shumway did.

It seems almost impossible in a way. Tuione and Uncle Bill are like two guys in my mind that cannot be replaced. Nobody can do the things that they do in the way that they do it so well, but I think I'm kind of learning what he meant. We won't replace them and be able to do everything the same way that they do, but we will be able to learn things in our own way, but with guidance from the other side of the veil we will be able to continue to carry on traditions like Iosepa.

When I first got involved with building Iosepa, I thought the goal was to sail somewhere so I could say that I did what my ancestors did the way they did it, but I realized later that it wasn't about me and it wasn't about arriving at a final destination to know that something had been accomplished. Instead, the lesson was that the destination was not as important as undertaking the journey in a way that is pono.

After the wa`a was constructed, there was a little break. Everyone needed a breather to recoup and catch up from all the time that was dedicated to that project.

I was able to participate in several canoe crew trainings in Laie and on the Big Island. I learned so much in that process even when it seemed that a lot of times we failed to reach the destination I had in my head. Those experiences strengthened me as a person and taught me so much about teamwork, ho`oponopono and the self-sacrifice and lack of ego that is so vital to make voyaging work. There is only room on the canoe for one voice. That of the captain.

I learned as much off the canoe as on. One of the greatest lessons was from Auntie Marie Solomon. We were at her house in Kohala. I asked her to tell us a story in Hawaiian. She wanted to hear from us speak in Hawaiian. Nobody stepped forward except for Keo, the only non-Hawaiian in the group. He was the only one with the courage to speak our native language. I can't remember exactly what words she spoke, but she scolded us, the Hawaiians, for not knowing and not taking the kuleana to learn our own language. The shame I felt that day was pretty unreal. I wanted so bad to speak Hawaiian, but couldn't. I told myself that one day I would learn.

Today, I'm still learning Hawaiian and one day I will speak it with a level of fluency. My son attends Punana Leo and I'm learning new words each day and still taking a class one night a week.

I'm so glad I met Auntie Marie before she passed. Same for Cap and everyone else that is still alive.

Kuleana to do the things to preserve my culture is a great lesson that I will never forget. If I don't take the time to show that my olelo makuahine is important enough to put the time into learning it, how can I blame anybody else for not valuing or respecting it?

I'll also never forget all the great people we met in training. Our Maori braddahs (Haki, Jason, Nick) and sister, Cap, Chad, Pomai, Ludda and all of us from BYUH (sorry, if I forget someone - just going off memory): Uncle Bill, Uncle Kawika, (Uncle) Kamoa`e, Ka`umealani, Thomas A., Derek L., Lono and Anna L., Andy and Maria, Noelani, Paliku, Jude and Namea, Feki, Miki, Lehua, Keali`i, Tyrone, Sir William, etc....

As a sidenote, I vaguely remember Kamoa`e explaining Kihe i ka ihu i ka ale to describe that time when the manu ihu or the bow hits the water and it splashed up it in a spray it was a spray like a sneeze. However, the saying didn't have as much significance to me until one of my friends that paddles talked to me about it. He got it tattooed on his arm in memory of his friend passing away. Apparently, his friend was a little bit of a daredevil and did a lot of things that people thought would be reckless and I think he died in Iraq. Anyways, he got that olelo no`eau tattooed because he says according to Puku`i the saying has the symbolic meaning of "looking at danger with indifference." My friend, as a paddler takes that to mean that the person who is on the front of the wa`a will take the brunt of the punishment as the ride is rockier whereas the guy in the back can cruise a little bit. So the guy in front looks at danger with indifference.

Going to law school and getting married put a end to my time at the wa`a, but I'm sure someday life will bring me back. If not, all the life lessons I learned at BYUH and with Iosepa will continue with me.

Aloha.
(Kanale)