King Kamehameha the Great was a very famous warrior. His chief
ambition, which he lived to realize, was to become sole ruler of all
the Hawaiian Islands. Naturally he had numerous enemies, and he never
remained long in one place for fear some of them might learn of his
whereabouts and attack him.
One time, when he was encamped near the mouth of the Wailuku, he
planned a quiet visit to what is now known as Reed's Island, where
lived a particular friend of his. As this friend was a powerful chief,
Kamehameha felt safe in going to him without his usual warrior
bodyguard.
Before leaving camp he called his servants to him and told them to
stand watch over his canoe, that it might not be stolen or carried
away by the tide. This they promised faithfully to do.
As time passed and the king did not return or send word to his
servants they grew uneasy about him. Perhaps he might have been
ambushed, they reasoned; or more likely fallen into one of the caverns
formed by ancient lava flows and which are often treacherously
concealed by a thin, brittle crust that a man of Kamehameha's bulk
might easily break through. Much as they feared for the king's safety,
the servants dared not leave the canoe unguarded. They were in a
quandary indeed.
"I know what we can do!" cried one of the men. "We can make a rope of
ti leaves and tie the canoe so it cannot drift away."
"Make a rope," queried another, "how can we do that?"
"Simple enough," answered the first speaker. "I'll show you. Take the
ti leaves and fasten them together. First you make two chains of
leaves--like this--and then twist each one. When you place them
together they will naturally twine about each other and you have a
very strong rope. Such twisting is called hilo."
"I've never seen it done," admitted his fellow sentry, "but it looks
very simple."
"And so it is," went on the resourceful one, as he rapidly twisted the
ti leaves into serviceable ropes. "Now," he concluded, "these are
plenty long enough. Let us make the canoe fast to the beach."
And taking their ropes to the canoe they tied it securely to that
point of land--known to the old Hawaiians as Kaipaaloa--near the mouth
of the river where the lighthouse stands today. Then they set out in
search of the king.
Only a short way up the river they met Kamehameha returning unharmed.
Ignoring the spirit of their intent in absenting themselves from their
post of duty, the king demanded:
"But where is my canoe? What have you done with my canoe? You promised
to guard it. By now it may have drifted out to sea or been stolen!"
"We tied it with ti ropes," answered the servant who had woven them.
"Ti ropes!" roared his majesty. "Why, no one here knows how to make
ropes like that. The only place they do know is at Waipio. How did you
learn?"
"I came to you from there," the man answered.
"Oh, and that is where you learned. Well and good. Hereafter this
place shall be called Hilo."
And so it has been. The town at the mouth of the Wailuku has since
that day been known by the Hawaiian word meaning "to twist."