CREW PROFILE: Pomaikalani Bertelmann

by Sam Low

A generation or so ago two Bertelmann brothers married two Lindsey sisters and the trajectory of history in the Big Island town of Waimea shifted slightly. Glenn Bertelmann and Delsa Lindsey had seven children and Clay Bertelmann and Deedee Lindsey produced five--a tight family with deep roots in a much larger `ohana that thrived beneath the gentle catenary arc of Mauna Kea. In Clay and Deedee's family, Pomaikalani was the first-born--on March 7, 1973, in Honoka`a. At the time, her father was a well known cowboy on Parker Ranch, so it's not surprising that young Pomai grew to love horses--in fact, animals of all kinds. "I was basically raised on my family's ranch and riding was a passion since I can remember," Pomai says. "I also worked as a kid on Hale Kea ranch in Waimea, fixing fences, raking the arenas, exercising horses and taking care of the livestock." Waimea was a little less dressy in those days, an informal rural town where children could safely ride horses alongside the main street and in the surrounding empty pastures. They rode horseback to the Dairy Queen drive-up window to order hamburgers, and they staged informal barrel and baton races and played "musical chairs" in the vast empty prairie just outside town. "A sense of community was kind of second nature among us" Pomai says, "there were kids from all the families--the Keakealani family, also Rebozos, De Silvas, Kimura, Lindseys--a lot of Lindseys, Kainoas, Colemans, Kanihos, Kaauas, Bergins, Awaas, Purdeys and the Fergerstrom family--to name a few--all of us were kaukalio (ride horses)."

One of the biggest events in Waimea was the fourth of July rodeo organized by the Parker Ranch Roundup Club where cowboys from all the ranch's numerous divisions competed in various events--cutting, roping, racing. "The cowboy life style was not exclusive of women, not at all," Pomai adds. "There were a lot of awesome women riders too. Lorraine Urbic sat a horse like no one else, and she won a lot of races. Then, just to name a few, there was Hoppy Whitehead, Val Hanohano, and Peewee Lindsey--all of them very strong people--great role models for us."

But life in Waimea embraced more than the land based culture of the Paniolo. "One of my fondest memories," Pomai explains, "was loading up the family Bronco with my mom and dad and the five of us kids and then picking up all my cousins and food and camping gear and heading for the beach. We went to a place called Wailea at Puako. There was no one there in those days. We had the place all to ourselves. Right next to where we used to camp there is a telephone pole with the number "69" printed on it. Since then, things have changed. Malahini now call Wailea "number sixty-nine". When you lose the real Hawaiian name, when that happens you lose a lot. At Wailea and other places, Pomai learned to dive with her father and she enjoyed fishing but never really grew fond of other water sports. As a youngster it was always the life kaukalio and with animals that most attracted her.

In 1975, a time Pomai is too young to remember, her Uncle Shorty sailed aboard Hokule`a on her maiden voyage to Tahiti. "We supported him as a family," Pomai says, "and whenever the canoe came to the Big Island we helped care for her and her crew." During the series of voyages between 1985 and 1987, Pomai's father Clay sailed often aboard Hokule`a. "He was away at sea for maybe six months during those two years," she recalls, "and I began to wonder a little about the kind of life he was leading." Gradually, the life of Pomai's family, was becoming more and more entwined with the sea.

From 1989 to 1991 the Bertelmann family helped search for koa logs to build Hawai`iloa in the forests surrounding Mauna Kea. They cooked and packed food for the searchers, walked side by side with them during long weekend treks, took a key role in the entire process. Ultimately, so devastated were Hawai`i's forests, that no logs were found and the canoe was built instead of Alaskan spruce.

But from this effort, Mauloa was born--the first traditionally made Hawaiian six man coastal canoe fashioned within perhaps centuries. "We did find Koa logs big enough for a smaller canoe," Pomai explains. "We went to Keahou to fell the trees and we lived there over a long weekend in tents." The canoe builders used adzes that they fashioned under the watchful eye of Mau Piailug, from stone gathered at the ancient Keanakakao`i adze quarry on Mauna Kea. From 1991 to 1993 Pomai's father Clay spent every weekend at Pu`uhonua O Honaunau working on the canoe. "In traditional times women were not allowed to work on canoes so we supported the men," Pomai explains. "Mauloa was built by the Na kalai wa`a--the canoe builders--from Koa and Breadfruit sap and sennit and Laughable, her hulls were smoothed by stones and she was given a sheen with Kukui oil.

In 1992, Pomai went with her father to O`ahu to help him prepare for Hokule`a's voyage to the Cook Islands. There she met a group of young people who were beginning to assume leadership roles--Moana Doi, Keahi Omai, Ka`au McKenney and Chadd Paishon who is now her husband. Next came Makali`i--the Big Island canoe built by veteran members of Hokule`a's crew and a passionate community effort spearheaded by her father, Shorty Bertelmann and Tiger Espere. Beginning work in January 1994 the canoe was finished by the following December. In September--as Makali`i was nearing completion, Pomai became, as she puts it, "a one woman administrative staff," for Na Kalai Wa`a Moku O Hawai`i--The Canoe Builders of Hawai`i. She was hooked. "I began to think seriously about my life in 1992," she remembers, "and as I learned more about the values involved in voyaging, I thought I wanted them in my own life. Voyaging gave me a sense of family, which was familiar since I had grown up in a strong supportive family and it gave me a connection to my cultural roots. And when Mau Piailug began to stay with us I met a man who had done so much for our people--how could I not be excited?"

In 1995, Pomai sailed aboard Makali`i from Tahiti, through the Marquesas, and back to Hawai`i. "In 1997," she continues, "Mau asked us to take him home to Satawal on Makali`i and, of course, there was no question about it." In February of 1999 Makali`i raised anchor and set out on the voyage called E Mau--"Sailing the Master Home." "We sailed to many islands in Micronesia to honor Mau among his own people," says Pomai. "On Satawal I was Mau as a complete man for the first time, not just as a navigator but also as a father, a husband, a farmer--you should see his taro patch--and a fisherman. I have never seen him so happy."

Soon after Makali`i returned from Micronesia, Pomai was once again deeply immersed in organizing the details of caring for the canoe and organizing it's many educational voyages. Through the intimate grapevine of Hawaiian sailors, she learned of Hokule`a's planned voyage to Rapa Nui. "I also heard that it might be Nainoa's last voyage as a navigator," she remembers, "and I was heart broken. I always wanted to sail with him and aboard Hokule`a. I thought I might never get the chance." A short time later, Nainoa called and invited her to come aboard Hokule`a for the fifth leg--the voyage home.

"This is such an honor for me," Pomai says, "to have a chance not only to learn from Nainoa but from the greatest sailors of the last quarter century of traditional voyaging--from Uncle Snake and Uncle Mike and Uncle Tava. I am now sailing with the guys who started the renewal of our ancient voyaging arts and contributed to the beginning of the revival of our Hawaiian culture."