Hawaii's Forgotten

documentary national geographic He descended the stairs, got a handle staring us in the face thusly, and covered Pilipo in a giant squeeze. At that point he welcomed us in, where we were welcomed by his Irish-American spouse, Kyno, a lady practically as tall as Bill and generally as large hearted. Indeed, even the one-year-old child in Kyno's arms appeared to be gigantic. My better half and I felt like Gullivers in Brobibdinagia.

Charge Kapuni is alright known for his plunge operation, yet there is a great deal more to him than scuba chambers and controllers. When he was more youthful he revamped exemplary speedsters, all of which were exceptionally looked for after by gatherers. Presently, notwithstanding jumping, he cuts wood. So we were told. However, when we strolled into his lounge room it turned out to be clear that actually considerably more than that. To say Bill Kapuni cuts wood is to fiercely downplay reality. It's to some degree like stating Picasso fiddled with oil paints.

We remained in the midst of a few flawless centerpieces in local wood. Among them were customary Hawaiian formal drums and outrigger kayak miniatures and imitations. Yet, overshadowing everything else in the room, including Kapuni, was a staggering piece he had as of late finished. "This is a tribute," he let me know with some measure of pride, "to the expertise and courage of the old Hawaiian voyagers."

It's a fitting one. The work comprises of an existence measured exploring pole and two gigantic guiding oars, all hand-cut, all mounted vertically in the most forcing bit of woodcraft I've ever seen. Standing about ten feet tall, it sparkles in the calm light of Bill's home, overwhelming the parlor. Its smooth surfaces and dazzling lines radiate crude force.

Bill let us know the work was desired by the legislative head of Hawai'i, who wanted to place it either in the Governor's chateau or the Honolulu International Airport. He appeared to be completely unconcerned with the fame this introduction could bring him. He even appeared to be somewhat humiliated by this compliment to his expertise.

It was a state of mind strange for a refined craftsman, yet completely predictable with what I had come to acknowledge about the general population of Moloka'i. I was consistently amazed at how real they were. Bill, Kyno, Pilipo, even Ray Miller-all were straightforward, unhurried, and warmly inviting to companions and outsiders alike.

Later, after we had gone out, Pilipo took us into his own home to demonstrate to us his accumulation of old curios and to discuss his endeavors to safeguard the area and the way of life of his kin. We sat drinking lemonade and discussing history and family and life on Moloka'i, as night fell and the world developed calm.