Departing Letter from Pihemanu

Aloha mai e kuu mau hoa makamaka,


Tonight is the last night I will sleep on Pihemanu. In all honesty, I'm not ready to come home. A few of the PAA ohana are still awake in the lobby of Charlie Barracks with me as we cherish our last night together and hang onto this space and time. Earlier tonight, the crew shared some beers and good laughs, the kind that make your stomach hurt so bad that you realize that you haven't laughed that hard in a while. And you suddenly realize you have exactly what you need, no more and no less. In under twenty four hours we will all be in our seats on the the plane (G1) heading for O'ahu.

To me, Pihemanu is a work of art. Everywhere you look it is virtually impossible to deny her beauty. In many places around the atoll, her abundance, wealth, life, and depth is juxtaposed against a history warfare and military occupation while Midway atoll served as a strategic battleground and front in the middle of the Pacific in WWII and the Cold War.

There is not a single person on this trip that allows a way for the wonderment, aloha (love) and fascination for this place escape them. Each individual's experience is the same in this way. In fact, as our time here progresses we arrive with new questions and inquiries like any young child would. So, what this means is on Pihemanu we're granted a second chance, maybe third to start all over again and rediscover a new place through the eyes of a child. Some of our questions can be answered with simple facts and others may require us to ponder. To say the least, it has become easy for me to forget about my life back home which affords me to look inward and re-examine my kuleana as a Native Hawaiian, marine conservationist, educator, lifelong student, and global citizen. But, I remember each day that these moments are precious and I trust that my kuleana that builds upon the southeastern horizon is something that I can fulfill in this life.

The focus of my inner dialogue brings me to share a few things with you about my relationship with the kai (ocean). My earliest memories of the ocean take me back some twenty five or so years ago. I remember my father, holding me with his hands under my belly instructing me through my first series of swimming lessons. I must have been instantly drawn to the water because I have never fallen out of love with the ocean. As a child I also have fond memories of snorkeling at Hanauma Bay and it was there where I first discovered life below the surface. At that time, visitors to the bay could still feed the fish with little pellets they used to sell there. As most of you know, times have change and people can no longer feed the fish. For those of you who live in urban Honolulu, I encourage you to visit this special place. As the ocean's baseline continues to shift for the worst and fish stocks and coral health decline pu'u honua (refuges) like Hanauma and Papahanaumokuakea remind me of the power of protecting a place in perpetuity for its biological, cultural, and social significance and its power to heal not only nature but mankind itself.

When I am in the ocean whether it's surfing, paddling, fishing, snorkeling, swimming, or diving I feel that my great grandfather is with me. He was a man of the ocean and my father and uncles speak admirably about their grandfather who knew so much about the place that he loved. It is only later in life that I began realize that it's not a mere coincidence that I find myself in the same line of work my grandfather was doing as a fish and game warden some 50 to 60 years ago. As my dear hoa (friend) and fellow PAA member, Nai'a, shared, "[we] don't get kuleana from no where".

And so, my journey to Pihemanu is related to my genealogy which for me includes all my ohana (family), ku'u mau hoa( dear friends), my new PAA ohana, and countless others who put tremendous time and energy into mentoring me. My only hope is that I'm able to represent you well here and bring you as close as I can get you to Pihemanu. And so in my last letter to you before I depart from this remote atoll that lies in the great expanse of the Pacific Ocean, I will try my best to take you on one of my journeys into her waters.

There are two places on the atoll where we may explore the underwater world here. All other beaches are reserved for species that are endangered. The light blue waters off of North Beach are the most inviting waters I've ever seen. Conversely, the cargo pier, towards the eastern side of the atoll is an artificial marine habitat created several years ago through the creation of a channel to bring big ships to the atoll. Just a few feet from the sandy shores of the cargo pier, it drops off 50 to 60 feet and gives the feel of a blue water dive. The underwater experience at the cargo pier is a rare one. It feels like a kaleidoscope, so many things happening all at once, and when the much welcomed rays of sunlight illuminate the eerie and murky waters under the pier one feels a little more inviting. The fish are abundant, some are familiar to me, many are not, and some are really big. And so in this manmade habitat there is a mixture of nearshore and deeper water fish species that coexist. In all my time spent diving reefs around the main Hawaiian Islands, never have I seen fish in such abundance in a small concentrated area.

If I count all the hours and pictures I've spent snorkeling under the pier it probably adds up to something like two hours and 800 pictures. All that Pihemanu has revealed to me is not an accident, its a combination of our pule (prayers), the power of intent and manifestation. And so I will leave you with this short story about a special fish to me.

Last week Monday, during PAA's visit behind the scenes of Bishop Museum's incredible fish specimen collection, before exiting the room I kindly asked our guide if they had a preserved specimen of the hapu'u fish. Since it's been virtually fished out of the main Hawaiian Islands and the primary reason why it is such a rare sight, I thought here's my chance to see what it looks like in "real" life. Yesterday, not even ten minutes into our daily snorkel under the pier, I came across the hapu'u not knowing it at the time, got close to it and snapped a photo. After downloading my photos and looking through them (as we obsessively do here on Pihemanu), I found that shot and a sudden feeling of "chicken skin" came over me as I realized what I had seen today. This is life on Pihemanu. Every experience and moment on is a gift, is precious, and is teaching each of us something.


I wish I could share all my stories with you and I look forward to sharing more with you in person. I will see you all soon.


"He wa'a, he moku, he moku, he wa'a"

me ke aloha no,
Marion

To be in that blue

So, in looking through my nifty little notebook that Linda got for us, I came across a scribbled thought I had luckily jotted down. It's a thought that came to me as I reflected on our trek to Eastern Island. As we were walking across the middle of the island, I saw that magical blue of the lagoon reflected off the flat bottoms of the clean, white clouds overhead. At first I thought it was my sunglasses, or my eyes tired from the sun, but Nai'a assured me that I was seeing a traditional indicator to sailors that land was near. Something shifted in me as I looked up at that distinctive, invigorating, soothing blue.

A day later, I remembered that blue when I heard Norbert express his yearning to "be in that blue" as he looked out at the ocean at North Beach. To be in that blue...

Maybe a mission for us? To be in that blue. This is what I wrote in my notebook: just how the clouds reflect the blue of the atoll, and serve as indicators that the atoll is there, so we PA'A ohana members can reflect that Papahanaumokuakea is here...and irreplaceable...through sending out our own beautiful, distinctive, alluring light unique to our experience. We can stand as beacons, ambassadors for the 'aina and the sea that surrounds us. We can continue to be in that blue, and encourage others to recognize and be in that blue as well...

Headed for the Reef!

We were so fortunate to get out to the reef for a snorkel. I succumbed to the phrases that kept rolling through my head during our adventure ("unreasonable blues" "freefall of trust" "humans haul out" "a smile gifted back to the giver") and wrote a quick poem.

bodies sausaged into neoprene,
zippered spine traces human spine

unreasonable blues
in an ocean meant for everyone but us

my smile given back to me in sunglass lenses
perched over other smiles

ocean spray christens us
as we grip metal poles and perch on skinny benches

freefall of trust into cold clear waters

kupukas of coral rest stoically,
impervious to our praise



breathing calms

limbs stretch

pulses slow

life deepens

humans haul out onto shiny metal ledges

the giant ulua travels past,
unimpeded, unimpressed

my smile is given back to me by the caress of the wind,
the warmth of the sun,

the silence of my friends

Chris's Poem

This opportunity to spend precious time on Midway Island has deeply affected all of us. Chris was unparalleled in seizing every opportunity, exploring every corner, connecting with people and creatures and the land the whole time we were there. He blessed us all with the following poem as a gift right before we jumped on the plane to leave. I know I was doing pretty well with managing my emotions up to that point. Chris's poem touched us all, and his open heart while sharing it touched us even more. Thanks so much, Chris.

We started many months ago on this magical tale,

Oh what joy we all felt with our acceptance in the mail.

We all arrived from near and far but we found the way,

Nervously gathering the first time at Hanauma Bay.

Through meetings, sessions and field trips our comfort levels grew

Remembering names and faces, these strangers we know knew.

Bishop Museum was fantastic as we made the rounds,

Then off to the airport where we stressed about our forty pounds.

Our flight was fun with Subway grinds to help provide a spark,

Then touching down on Midway, we reached here after dark.

From day one our days were filled with awesome things to do,

And when we thought it couldn't last, it got better with day two.

Cruising on our awesome bikes we explored both far and near

And everyday we added names of those who jumped the pier.

Eastern Island was unreal, its heyday of the past

With the help of those today its history will last.

Snorkeling out on the reef, boy, what can I say

Unreal feelings of another world, as the fish came out to play.

Sunrises and sunsets are a million dollar view.

How lucky are all of us? Each day we get to see the two.

Birds on the road, birds in the water, birds in the air

I'm so glad they're friendly, or that would be a scare.

Albatross and Monk Seal talks were given by the crew.

These lectures and the tours helped us learn so much that's new.

Thanks to Tanya, thanks to Nai'a who helped to get us through

The various assignments that we've done and those we've yet to do.

Tracy, thank you very much, you've been the very best!

Once we leave I surely hope you're able to get some rest.

Linda, thank you oh so much for getting all of us here.

It should be a lot easier when we return next year.

Unfortunately, our time is short as we wait for our ride

But luckily we've already checked with Toy for a place to hide.

I'm saddened as our wonder time we now see it ends.

I'm deeply honored to be able to call you all my friends.



Chris Baird

Cultural Component

E hō mai ka ʻike mai luna mai ē,
ʻO nā mea huna noʻeau o nā mele ē
E hō mai, e hō mai, e hō mai ē

Give forth knowledge from above
Every little bit of wisdom contained in song
Give forth, give forth, give forth

Cultural Component for PAA Program
by Al Braun

This oli (chant) by Aunty Edith Kanakaole was a fitting beginning to the cultural component of PAA 2010. It is impossible to separate the cultural roots of Pihemanu (Midway Atoll) from its story. Unlike other modules during PAA, the cultural component was woven throughout the entire experience, giving additional insight and perspective to the study of Pihemanu’s history, as well as, it's expected future.

In preparation for our journey to Pihemanu, we spent three days on Oahu learning, growing, and giving to the ‘aina (land) that would ready us for this life changing experience. We learned of the Hawaiian values that are essential for survival on a wa’a (canoe) or a moku (island). These values I was taught as a child resonated with new meaning in this paradigm. Mālama (caring), laulima (working together), kuleana (responsibility), ‘imi’ike (seeking knowledge), aloha (love), na’au pono (doing right), and loko maika’i (sharing) are all needed for a successful voyage, whether that journey is navigating across the Pacific, or navigating a course toward a sustainable future.

We also spent time in Bishop Museum's Hawaiian Hall, where we learned of the culture of a people who crossed the ocean to the world's most isolated archipelago. In the Bishop Museum's archives rooms, we viewed archeological evidence of Hawaiians found on the Northwest Hawaiian Islands of Nihoa and Mokumanamana (Necker Island). We were also able to see examples of kapa, cloth made from wauke (paper mulberry) bark, the scent of which awakened memories of seeing kupuna (elders) making it when I was a young boy.

From Oahu, we travelled on to Pihemanu. When I stepped off the airplane, I was overwhelmed by a sense of awe that I had arrived where the spirits of ancient Hawaiians travelled after leaving this world. The Northwestern Hawaiian Islands were known as Po, the region of primordial darkness where the spirits return after death. This has been a sacred place for generations, and the mana (spiritual power) of this island resonated through and around us.

Throughout our time on Midway, as we absorbed the mana (power) and beauty of Pihemanu, I received many hō’ailona (signs of nature) that spoke to me to pay attention. It was not surprising that in such a sacred place, the messages of the spirit world can transcend the boundaries of the physical world. Ancient Hawaiians knew this to be true, and with each passing day, I became more attuned to the messages being delivered.

Much too quickly, our time in this special place came to an end. The connections I made with myself, my friends, the ‘aina, the creatures, and my ancestors were life-changing. Before departing, I knew that I needed to make a ho’okupu (offering) of thanks to the island in the tradition of my ancestors. My prayer for Pihemanu is one of healing for her and our world.