Koa-trees, out of which the finest and most enduring calabashes of the
old Hawaiians were made, grew near the ocean’s sandy shore, but the
koa-trees from which canoes were carved and burned were, according to
some wise plan of Providence, placed on rough precipitous
mountain-sides or on the ridges above.
The fierce winds of the mountains and the habit of bracing themselves
against difficulties made the koa-trees cross-grained and slow in
growth. The koa was the best tree of the Hawaiian Islands for the
curled, twisted, and hard-grained wood needed in canoes which were
beaten by overwhelming surf waves, rolled over sandy beaches, or
smashed against coral or lava reefs.
From the time the canoe was cut in the mountains and was dragged and
rolled over lava beds or sent crashing down steep mountain-sides to the
time it lay worn out and conquered by the decay of old age it was
always ready to meet the roughest kind of life into which its maker and
owner could force it to go.
The calabash used in the plains and in the mountains came from a tree
grown in beautiful lines by the sea. The canoe came from the hard
mountain-koa far from its final workshop. There were gods, sacrifices,
ceremonies, priests and even birds in the rites and superstitions of
the canoe-makers. Kupulupulu was the god of the koa forest. Any
wanderer in the woods was in the domain of that god. It was supposed
that every rustling footstep was heard by most acute ears, and every
motion of the hand was watched by the sharpest eyes. Dread of the
unseen and unheard made every forest rover tremble until he had made
some proper offering and uttered some effective incantation.
The ceremony and the wages of the priest who went up the mountain to
select a koa-tree for canoe-cutting were like this: First he found a
fine-appearing tree which he thought would make the kind of canoe
desired. Then he took out his fire-sticks and rubbed rapidly until he
had sparks of fire in the wood-dust of his lower stick. He caught the
fire and made a burning oven (imu), heated some stones, cooked a black
pig and a chicken, and prepared food for a feast, and then prayed:
“O Kupulupulu—the god!
Here is the pig,
Here is the chicken,
Here is food.
O Kupulupulu!
O Kulana wao!
O Ku-ohia laka!
O Ku waha ilo!
Here is food for the gods.”
The aumakuas, or spirits of ancestors, were supposed to join with the
gods of the prayer in partaking of the shadow of the feast, leaving the
substance for the canoe-makers.
After the offering and prayer the priests ate and then lay down to
sleep until the next day. In the morning after another feast they began
to cut the tree.
David Malo, in his “Hawaiian Antiquities,” said that the priest took
his stone axe and called upon the female deities of the canoe-cutters
thus:
“O Lea and Ka-pua-o-alakai!
Listen now to the axe.
This is the axe which is to cut the tree for the canoe.”
Another account says that when the canoe priest began to cut the tree
and also as long as they were chopping it down they were talking to the
gods thus:
“O Ku Akua! O Paapaaina!
Take care while the tree is falling,
Do not break our boat,
Do not let the tree smash and crack.”
When the tree began to tremble and its leaves and branches rustle, a
tabu of silence was enjoined upon the workmen, that the tree itself
might be the only one heard by the watching gods.
When the tree had fallen a careful watch was made for Lea, the wife of
Moku-halii, the chief god of the canoe-carvers—those who hollowed out
the canoe.
It was supposed that Lea had a double body—sometimes she was a human
being and sometimes she appeared as a bird.
Her bird body was that of the Elepaio, a little bird covered with
speckled feathers, red and black on the wings, the woodpecker of the
Hawaiians.
“When she calls she gives her name ‘E-le-pai-o, E-le-pai-o,
E-le-pai-o!’ very sweetly.”
If she calls while the tree is being cut down and then flies gently
down to the fallen tree and runs up and down from end to end, and does
not touch the tree, nor bend the head over, striking the wood, then
that tree is sound and good for a canoe.
But if the goddess strikes the tree here and there it is rotten and of
no use, and is left lying on the ground.
David Malo, as translated by Dr. Emerson, says:
“When the tree had fallen the head priest mounted the trunk, axe in
hand, and called out in a loud voice, ‘Smite with the axe, and hollow
the canoe! Give me my malo!’
The priest’s wife would hand him a white ceremonial malo with which he
girded himself—then walked along the tree a few steps and called out in
a loud voice, ‘Strike with the axe, and hollow it! Grant us a canoe!’
Then he struck a blow on the tree with the axe. This was repeated until
he reached the point where the head of the tree was to be cut off. Here
he wreathed the tree with the ieie vine, repeated a prayer, commanded
silence, and cut off the top of the tree.
This done, the priest declared the ceremony performed and the tabu
lifted.
Then the priests took their stone adzes, hollowed out the canoe on the
inside, and shaped it on the outside until in its rough shape it was
ready to be dragged by the people down to the beach and finished and
polished for its work in the sea.”
Ka-hanai-a-ke-Akua was a chief residing near Kou. He lived in the time
when gods and men mingled freely with each other and every tabu chief
was more or less of a god because of his high birth.
His priests went up Nuuanu Valley to a place on the side where forests
covered a small valley running into the side hills of the larger and
more open valley. Great koa-trees fit for canoe-making were found in
this forest. However, this part of the valley belonged to the eepa
people—the deformed or ill-shaped gnomes of woodland or plain.
Sometimes they seemed to be crippled and warped in mind as well as in
body. They could be kind and helpful, but they were often vindictive
and quarrelsome. There were also ferocious mo-o, or dragon-gods,
watching for prey. Travellers were destroyed by them. They sometimes
appeared as human beings, but were always ready to become mo-os.
One of these gods came down to the place where the priests were cutting
the koa canoe for the high chief. He watched the ceremonies and
listened to the incantations while the tree was being cut down. He
tried to throw obstacles in the way of the men who were steadily
breaking chips from the tree-trunk. He directed the force of the wind
sweeping down the valley against them. He sent black clouds burdened
with heavy driving rain. He made discouraging omens and sent signs of
failure, but the priests persevered.
At last the tree fell and was accepted. It was speedily trimmed of its
branches, cut roughly to the required shape and partly hollowed out.
Then coconut ropes and vines were fastened around it, and the people
began to pull it down the valley to the harbor of Kou.
As they started to drag the log over rough lava ridges outcropping
along the valley-side they found their first effort checked. The log
did not move down into the valley. Rather, it seemed to go up the
hillside. The god caught one end and pulled back. Another mighty effort
was put forth and the canoe and the god slipped over the stones and
partly down the hillside. But the dragon-god braced himself again and
made the canoe very heavy. He could not hold it fast and it came down
to the men. It was very difficult to drag it through the forest of the
valley-side or the thickets of the valley, so the men pulled it down
into the rough, rocky bed of the little stream known as Nuuanu. It was
thought that the flowing water would help the men and the slippery
stones would hinder the god.
Down they went pulling against each other. The god seemed to feel that
the struggle under such conditions was hopeless, so he let go of the
canoe and turned to the flowing water.
Beautiful waterfalls and cascades abound all along the course of this
mountain stream. It is fed by springs and feathery waterfalls which
throw the rainfall from the tops of the mountains far down into the
valley.
The god hastened along this water course, stopped up the springs, and
turned aside the tributary streams, leaving the bed of the river dry.
Then he went down once more, caught the canoe, and pulled back. It was
weary, discouraging work, and the chief’s people became very tired of
their struggle. The night fell when they were still some distance from
the sea.
They had come to a place known as Ka-ho-o-kane. [26] In this place
there were sharp turns, steep banks and great stones. Here the
dragon-god fought most earnestly and wedged the log fast in the rocks.
The task had become so difficult and it was so dark that the high chief
allowed his priests to call the people away, leaving the log in the
place where the last struggle was made. It was a gift to the mo-o, the
dragon, and was known as “The canoe of the dragon-god.” It is said that
it lies there still, changed into a stone, stuck fast among the other
huge stones among which the water from the mountains finds its way
laughing at the defeat of the canoe-makers.