The Newfoundland of Hawaii
Quiet and quirky, Molokai is filled with colourful characters
MOLOKAI, HAWAII— With just one hotel, a main street that shuts down at sunset and not a traffic light or spa in sight, this quiet and quirky Hawaiian island isn’t everyone’s cup of coconut milk.
Relatively few visitors find their way to Molokai, especially compared to its bigger, busier neighbours of Oahu, Maui and The Big Island. And with only about 8,000 residents living on this fifth-largest of the Hawaiian Islands — that’s just the way folks like it. “We’ve come to Hawaii many times but Molokai is our favourite,” a couple from Kamloops tell me as we try our hand cracking fresh macadamia nuts at a local farm.
“It reminds me of what eastern Canada was like when I was growing up down there,” says the middle-aged man, nailing Molokai’s rustic appeal while cleaning cracking open another rock-hard nut.
Molokai is a lot like the Newfoundland of Hawaii — a peaceful place where you can still discover an authentic way of life and some great colourful characters.
Take Tuddie Purdy for instance, who turns a stop at his macadamia nut farm into entertaining stories of Hawaiian history and a test about all things mac nut.
“You’re late for this lesson, but I’ll let you taste now and then we’ll start from the beginning,” Purdy scolds the Canadian couple who had just happened by the farm, stopping in for some fresh-fromthe-shell-macadamia nuts.
“Keep eating before the flies get it all,” bosses our gruff host in Hawaiian-print shorts, refilling coconut shells with mouth-watering raw and roasted nuts, macadamia blossom honey and honey-mustard. “Who remembers how old one of these trees has to be before it starts bearing fruit?,” quizzes our testy teacher — with a twinkle. (The answer is approximately seven years old, in case you ever have to take Purdy’s mac nut test.)
Living off the land is still a way of life for many here, and Molokai’s rural roots stretch from Halawa Valley’s restored taro ponds in the east to Kumu Farms field-fresh or- ganics in the west.
Molokai’s honorary mayor, Keli Mawae, has been a self-sufficient farmer, hunter and fisherman since age 8. He also plays a mean slackkey guitar.
Now in his 70s, this genial Santa Claus of a man with a twinkle in his eyes and a hearty handshake still believes that whatever ails him, there’s something in his garden that can cure it.
“Noni is the fruit Hawaiians use for cancer, diabetes — everything in your body. Kinda cleans the system,” Mawae says. “We chew the root of the purple awa to make the mouth numb and pull out the teeth.”
Mawae’s great love is fishing, demonstrating the hand-over-hand art of throwing fishing nets, timing his throw as the wave rolls in to catch the fish. Restored stone fish ponds form placid pools in the stormy sea along the island’s north side — standing sentinel to the ingenious fishing culture of Mawae’s Hawaiian ancestors.
“The Ancient Ones came by sea. They were great sailors. They were great fishermen.”
Turns out they were great at picking out real estate too.
Early Polynesians spotted the lush Halawa Valley on Molokai’s east end, pulling their canoes onto the protected bay’s sandy beach and settling in. Archaeological evidence suggests that this valley might be the oldest settlement site in the Hawaiian Islands, established in the mid-7th century and nearly wiped out by a tsunami in 1946. “These days you can find a lot of things that have been here since 650 AD, including some ruins of the heiau (ancient temples)” says our knowledgeable native-hawaiian host, Pilipo Solatorio, as we hike the hour-long trail from the secluded tropical beach to the towering cascade of Mooula Falls. “Uncle” Pilipo grew up here and his recent Halawa Valley Restoration Project is bringing traditional life and practices back to the valley and offering guided instructional hikes to visitors who want to learn about the ancient ways. “I was born and raised here,” says the 71-year-old. “I am the last one of my generation and my grandfather told me I must share it with our people and with the outside world. Because you have taken the time to learn about my culture, I am going to show you things even the archeologists don’t know about,” he promises. And from the first haunting conch shell call — a Hawaiian greeting as old as the Halawa Valley — to our Hawaiian host dropping a stalk of ti leaves into the waterfall pool (if the stalk floats, Mooula Falls resident legendary lizard (moo) is sleeping so it is safe to swim) the lessons learned here are powerful ones. Janie Robinson is a Barrie-based writer and videographer. Her trip was subsidized by the Islands of Maui Nui.