HI: Pōhāhā I ka lani (From Spring 2017)

Spring 2017: Waipio Valley

There are many beautiful places on the Big Island of Hawai'i, but not many come close to Waipi'o Valley. This incredible place is the first of many deep and lush valleys that slice through the northern most cliffs of the island, stretching from Hamakua up into Kohala. Many of these valleys are only accessible by foot, they are considered some of the most remote locations on the island. Their steep sides plunge thousands of feet from the top of the plateau down to the flat valley floor, covered in dense foliage and wide streams. These stretch deep into the island, giant waterfalls pouring over the cliffs. The valley walls run right to the edge of the ocean, making trekking along the coast impossible, forcing hikers up and over the soaring plateaus dividing the valleys.

Not only do these valleys hold beauty, but history and culture. One of these isolated valleys was the birthplace of King Kamehameha The Great, and the ruling chiefs of Kohala lived here. Waipi'o’s status among these valleys is legendary. It is an ancient place of cultivation and culture. It was said that during times of famine on the island just Waipi'o valley alone, with its fields and lo'i, could sustain the people. Even today the traditions of growing and cultivating, especially the Kalo plant, remain in this sacred place.

The valley floor is a patchwork of lo'i, or taro patches, modern and ancient. A few industrious farmers live in the valley, cultivating their crops on leased land. These houses are old, and life is very isolated, connected to the world above by a single road that rises along the cliff side. Only four wheel drive vehicles can handle the trip, and the hike is steep and long. This is what keeps many of the tourists from venturing into the valley itself, but plenty look down at it from the lookout on top. Much of the land is owned by The Bishop Museum while the beach is owned by Kamehameha Schools.

A few weeks ago my friend was putting together a trip to Waipio for her Geography, Oceanography and Environmental Science (GOES) club, and invited me to come along. She had arranged for us to volunteer for the non profit Pohaha I Ka Lani. This is an organization run by a single family with the mission of stewardship and cultivation of the land in order to revitalize and learn about Hawaiian indigenous culture. They host groups of all sizes from all over to learn about taro cultivation, the uses of taro, Hawaiian language and ancient Hawaiian culture. There is a major focus on sustainability, which of course was an integral concept in ancient Hawaiian life, and taro cultivation.

Taro, or Kalo as it is called in Hawaiian, is a plant not well known to us on the mainland but is incredibly important to the Hawaiian people and many of the pacific island nations. It has been spiritualized by the Hawaiians, used as a sort of symbol of the old ways that has been incorporated into their modern culture. It can be used in countless ways both for food and medicine. This family has several tracts of land where they grow hundreds of varieties of taro, and in fact they are the main suppliers of taro plants for the Kamehameha school gardens on the island. One of these tracts of land is in the beautiful Waipio valley, and working there was an experience I will never forget.

There were only eight students that came with us to Waipio, which was fortuitous as we were able to fit everyone in the vehicle to drive all the way into the valley. Reaching the valley floor was like slipping into another age. The dirt tract came out of the trees to run along the grassy banks of a wide, glassy river. Tall albizzia trees lined the other side, their scarlet flowers striking against the blue of the sky and long tresses of vines hung down, barely sweeping the surface of the water. The foliage was dense and vibrantly green. Innumerable shapes of leaves and countless shades of green fluttered in the breeze, and small pockets of bright, tropical flowers peeked out of the greenery. In the distance I could see the walls of the valley curve back into the island, and a magnificent waterfall spill from the forests crowning the tops of the cliffs.

We drove along the muddy, rocky tracks through several gates and up through dense growths of trees and vines. Small shacks and houses flashed through the openings in the trees, and overgrown yards sloped down to trickling streams. We went further up into the valley before stopping before a rusty green gate. From here we left the car behind and walked with our hosts and their young daughter down to a sloping clearing filled with rock walls and young taro plants. Here were the original lo'i the ancient Hawaiians built hundreds of years before. The walls were over grown but thick and strong. The patches further up the hill were clear and already overflowing with taro.

Taro can be grown in dry land and in water. Sometimes the ancient Hawaiians even raised fish along with the taro they required so much water. Our hosts had both kinds of taro growing, and those patches with wet taro were fed by an intricate irrigation system, fed from the stream above the lo'i. The water ran into and out of the patches filling up the ancient walls and running down to those below it.

Several years earlier, a different conservation organization had been responsible for maintaining the taro patches. After they lost funding seven years ago no one had continued in their work. In that short period, around 400 ancient lo'i were overgrown by albizzia trees (African tulip trees), a non-native and incredibly aggressive species that grows tall and fast, blocking out light to the understory. As a result, our hosts and their non profit obtained the lease and began to slowly clear away the trees and restore the land. The work is slow and difficult, they had only been able to clear about 30 patches so far, but they continue on working towards complete restoration.

Our small band of students went to work, taking whatever tools they had. We began removing the trees and stacking the branches and trunks along the fence line. Trespassers and squatters are a major issue in Waipio valley, and poachers as well. Already our hosts had some taro stolen, squatters living on their land and poachers actively hunting pig while they had groups in the area. We piled the debris along the fence to discourage them from coming through, but even that was a weak barrier.

The Albizzia tree is a very beautiful specimen, but has been taking over the island. It is tall and its upper branches spread wide shading out much of what grows underneath. The wood, we found, was incredibly light and cut like butter. We were able to topple trees over a foot wide with hand saws. Once the trees thundered to the ground we chopped them up into manageable pieces with machetes, and carried the logs over our shoulders to the fence. We cleared two small patches completely after an entire morning of work, a good space but only a drop in the bucket of work yet to be done.

After lunch we were able to plant some taro in a different patch that had been previously cleared. It was slightly shaded which was good for this variety that was grown for its leaves. The low light would ensure dark green, tender leaves. With picks we dug holes in the ground about a foot apart and placed each plant into the cool soil. Some strawberry guava trees still stood in the patch, but we left it and simply planted around it. The new shoots we planted came from the tops of taro that had already been harvested. The bulk of the corm is taken and used for food, but the top can be planted again as we did in that patch.

We ended our day with a refreshing dip in the stream above the lo'i, and drove back exhausted, covered in sawdust and mud. It was humbling to think of our hosts working on such a monumental project for so long, with nothing but smiles and gratitude for their task. I wonder how two people can dream so big, but they are completely dedicated to their vision and calling to stewardship and education. However, like many of the farmers and residents of Waipio, they do not own the land. Most of the valley is leased, and recently Bishops Museum, one of the largest landowners, has put up over 540 acres for sale. This has led to unease among the tenants, wondering what the future holds for their livelihoods and homes.

For now, Waipio is still a beautiful refuge, and sanctuary of the old Hawaiian ways. It is incredible to live on an island where one can learn about an important historical place and be able to visit it on the weekend.