IOW VP Moʻolelo
Wailuanuiahoʻāno- Remains of the dead (Pukui & Elbert, 1986, p. 379)
I was eight years old when my dad took the job as executive sous chef at Coco Palms. It was 1977. We had moved from his Waiohai and Poʻipū beach hotel job on the south side to east Kauaʻi. Like many hotel properties during those years we lived in hotel-provided housing. The Wailua home afforded to us, was located on the corner of the mauka ʻauwai, right between the coconut grove and Holoholokū Heiau. It was an interesting small home in reach of all hotel festivities. My sister and I were immersed in the nightly torch lighting ceremony, tilapia fishing, crabbing, the daily zoo visitors, and holiday community events on the property. Amidst the malahini hustle, what stood out most during my years living there were the nature and frequency of spiritual events.
So many stories and experiences that stood out distinctly continue to remind me of the significant presence beyond the living realm. Being on the property, you always felt a sense that you weren’t alone. At that age, I wasn’t as tuned into the presence of kupuna as I am now, but as I’ve aged and have been exposed to places, my sensitivity has increased. The same feelings I would experience in my Wailua home are reminiscent of that spiritual awareness I have today. We weren’t the only ones having experiences. In fact, the hauntings were well known on the property. Our neighbor would talk about waking up in the middle of the night in his bed to ali’i in full regalia standing above him. Voices and lights would call from the coconut grove.
One night my sister and I were home alone while my father was across the street at work. We began to hear a distinct drum unlike the drumming from the nightly visitor ceremony. This drum had a high pitch sound like a Tahitian drum. The drumming came right up to our house and surrounded us so loudly we got really scared. We later came to realize the drumming would occur on a monthly basis during the evening hour of a dark pō night. We even pinpointed that the drumming would follow a path past our house to the heiau and back down the road. We were after all, in the middle of a luakini heiau. We researched and discovered well-documented that the first Tahitian drum was introduced at this place where our ali’i were born and many laid to rest. According to some traditions, ʻŌpuku and Hāwea were the first drums in Hawaiʻi and were brought here from Tahiti by Laʻamaikahiki to Wailua, Kaua’i.
As Pua mentions in her blog, the name Wailuanuiahoʻāno refers to “the great sacred Wailua,” and it also means “spirit, ghost; remains of the dead,” considered by many to be the more culturally appropriate rendering of the name (Pukui & Elbert, 1986, p. 379). This interpretation is reflected elsewhere in Polynesia, indicating it is an old and important name. Wairua (spirit, soul) is a place in Aotearoa (New Zealand), including the name of a major river (http://www.maoridictionary.co.nz). Fredrick Wichman (1998) discusses the spiritually connected meaning of Wailua as spirits of the dead indeed gathered together on the upland plains and on certain moonlit nights marched in great processions accompanied by drums and nose flutes down to the river. These night marchers entered waiting canoes and paddled down the river into the sea and around the coast until they reached Polihale at Mānā. Here they leaped from the cliffs into Pō, the land of the dead, which lay beneath the sea (pp. 67–68).
The deafening silence of Wailua is a feeling and sensation I will never forget. These personal experiences were the first indicators for me of the significance of Wailuanuiahoʻāno. After all, Wailua is a named burial of our ancestors. They remain today, some moved in the last hotel development but they are speaking to us much louder than before. Perhaps it’s because we are ready to listen. The question today is, can we take our heightened awareness into protecting our kupuna? Honor their history, their legacy, and their contributions? The newly formed non-profit, I Ola Wailuanui is willing to stand in the gap between those who are unknowing or blind to our culture and the next generation of Kānaka who are sensitive to our ʻāina kupuna and ready to defend a future that listens to our ancestor’s calls.
He ʻāina kaulana nōʻo Kauaʻi nā wahi pana, a he mokupuni i kāhiko ʻia e ka nani, a i ō wale ai nō kona mele kaulana, “Maikaʻi Kauaʻi Hemolele i ka Mālie”
Kauaʻi is indeed a land famous with sacred legend-filled sites, it is an island adorned in beauty, of which the famous song says, “Beautiful is Kauaʻi, Perfect in the Calm”
Mason Kamalani Chock
Vice President, I Ola Wailuanui