February 27, 2000 / Kaunakakai, Moloka'i

Source: Cat Fuller

On a beautiful Moloka`i Sunday, word of Hokule`a's arrival was passed from person to person along with smiles and greetings. At Take's, the Friendly Market and the Chevron station, the question was, "When?" and the answer, "Between six and seven tonight." Preparations were already in progress, but there were signs to be painted, flowers to be gathered and strung into leis as well as a welcome home meal to prepare. Anxious eyes that had spent the last twenty-two days scanning the internet now turned to the ancient task of scouting the horizon for the shape of a sail among the ferocious wind swells. With each succeeding internet report, the actual position of the canoe moved into familiar waters, and closer to home and loved ones.

At 4:15 in the afternoon, Myrna Ah Hee, wife of crew member Snake Ah Hee, was visiting Donna Paoa at home, when something made her look out at the horizon. There, distant off the Kawela shoreline was Hokule`a's sail. As word spreads, Myrna's excitement is contagious. Soon there are cars and trucks full of family and supporters cruising the coastline to see for themselves. In true Moloka`i style, the reports come house-to-house down the coastline, "They dropped the front sail"..."they dropped the jib"..."now they're riding the waves bare-masted..."

At Kaunakakai, the crowd begins to swell. In the raging winds, it is obvious that even without sails, Hokule`a has made the last few miles of this eight and a half month journey in record time.

It's as if she feels that home is near and it's time to return. A half mile out of the Kaunakakai pier, she turns and waits; a small snag has occurred, as the barge is still docked. Soon, the tug hauls it out of sight, and Hokule`a, along with her escort boat Kama Hele, triumphantly turn down the channel, towards the waiting crowd. As the last of the sun's rays light the sky, the two vessels slip in easily to the dock, where eager hands catch docking lines and secure them, finally, to Hawaiian soil.

Family members wait anxiously, yet with the kind of patience that comes from voyaging experience, for their loved ones. Judy Mick is there to surprise her son Kahualaulani. Judy says,"I don't fly...what does it take to get me on a plane?" Her son's arrival. The crew is formally greeted by both ancient and modern traditions. John Ka'imikaua's Halau performs, followed by an enchanting group of young girls. Their performance is in contrast to the immigrations and customs officials who also appear at the dock to administer their official duties. Finally, the crew is released and they eagerly come ashore to the things they have missed over the last twenty-two days: family, friends, beer and ice cream. A journey of twenty-two days, a journey of eight-and-a-half months and a journey of twenty-five years all end on this night. Yet, as crew members gather to compare stories, the predominant question is "When do we sail again?"

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