Kaluapele

On the Island of Hawaiʻi, Kaluapele (the pit of pele or Pele) crowns the summit region of the volcano Kīlauea.

21 June 2020

June 21, 2020. Lā Makua kāne and Solstice-ing

Tis an event full time.  The weathers have been most excellent, though to me, thereʻs a chill in evening and morning air.  Tradewinds have been breezily breezing, days have been sunny more often than not, and Iʻm venturing out more frequently, though cautiously.

Yesterday was Ka Māuikiʻikiʻi o ke Kauwela, the Summer Solstice, when ka Lā (the Sun) reaches its zenith over Ke Alanui Polohiwa a Kāne, the Tropic of Cancer (according to Kamakau), or in the Pukui and Elbert Hawaiian Dictionary, Pōʻaiolu ʻĀkau.  Whatever or whichever we call it, itʻs the line demarking the northernmost seasonal reach of the sun at 23.5 degrees north latitude.  Where lies Mokumanamana, if you recall those recent posts.

On its way there, the sun passes directly overhead in Hawaiʻi on a succession of dates, depending on latitude.  Here in Volcano, we noted what is locally called Lāhainā Noon on May 16 at 1217p, and will note the return of the sun as it heads south on July 25 at 1227p.  Looking at Google Earth, my hale is at 19.430078dN and 155.217248dW.

Weʻre fortunate if the day is clear and we can observe shadows.



And indeed, up here, May 16 was a beaut of a day, and so we washed and hung the sheets outside.  Note the vertical shadows...

Solstice Sunrise here (actually, a bit after sunrise, so sun was able to cast nearly tree-free shadow on wall) was clear...now we watch as shadows move to the right...till Ka Māuikiʻikiʻi o ka Hoʻoilo (Winter Solstice).




And to commemorate the Summer Solstice, yesterday I ventured to Keanakākoʻi with a group of good friends.  Hawaiʻi Volcanoes NP reopened this past Monday, and the absence of tourists makes it an even greater pleasure to roam the park.  It was excellent to see local families out and about, enjoying our park.  

For the first time in 6+ months I made it to KKOI and back.  Slow and steady, helped along with a bit of precautionary Aleve, a few changes were noted.  Mainly (and it might be difficult to make out) the finely pulverized pōhaku grey-streaking the wall of the Lua, especially on the Kaʻū-side (left) of image.


And yesterday, while waiting for me to catch up, it was nap time for companions...



A sweet image-memory for a special day.  Thanks for sharing, jc.

Nūnī feels better than I thought it would today, and I look forward to many many more walks!

Iʻll leave you folks with that, but Iʻll be back soon...

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

12 June 2020

June 12, 2020. A few loose ends and recent maps

Brrrr.  Not quite sure what to make of the chill in the air...but itʻs not only here on the Puna heights.  Up on the ma uka road in Kona ʻAkau HK commented that more than a sheet is needed for comfortable sleep...and this in June!  Mayhaps the brisk trades have something to do with it, or those huge spinning high pressure systems we see on the news, sending us cooler air from the north?  These times, being prepared for whatla is important.  Keep those extra blankets handy.

And I keep my Hawaiian Dictionaries handy.  Random musings and wonderings shed light on not-so-minute minutia.  This link helps unlock answers to questions we sometimes donʻtr even know we had:

https://wehewehe.org/?l=en

GoExplore!  New dictionaries (Mamaka Kaiao), old ones (Andrews, and the update of that by Parker) as well as the P/E (Pukui and Elbert) so familiar to many of us, all help inform.  My caveat has always been cross-check, cross-reference, always.  Hawaiian is a rich and discerning language, and attention to detail is often rewarded by learning something new.

For instance...Iʻve shared how much I enjoy the fresh look of the forest as pepeʻe hāpuʻu unfurl, displaying their bright, almost limegreens.

In Andrews, we find his "AO" describing "Light; day, in distinction from po. night." But also, "3.  Light; applied to the light-green of fresh leaves of plants or trees;..."

But there are a variety of "AO":


To discern correct definition and usage requires lots of page flipping or clicking here and there.  The situation is that early writers and those voluminous pages of nūpepa, Hawaiian newspapers, did not need to use ʻokina or kahakō, diacrititical marks used to aid pronunciation, because readers of nūpepa spoke ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi.  They knew, from context, what was meant.  We need help today.

And with a bit of effort, we find that using the orthography of today, we want to say or write, as in P/E Hawaiian Dictionary, 

ʻao:  "A new shoot, leaf, or bud, especially of taro..."

And as Iʻve said before, methinks the Andrews Dictionary gives us evocative definitions, and insight into how people viewed their surroundings here in the late 19th century.  A slightly richer view of our world.  So GoLook, and happy learning.

LOOK:

Our first kahili ginger of the season bloomed last week.  Gotta be a new record!  I seem to recall that decades ago, kahili were the last to bloom, showing up in late summer.


Other bloomings of note:

For weeks now Iʻve been going to Hilo once a week, mostly for PT.  And, being a creature of habit, I had my usual route.  Yesterday was different.  Errands and socially distant visits took me past the County Building.  WOW!



Pink tecoma (Tabebuia sp.) is native to the Central America region.  Each tree has flowers a slightly different shade of pink.  Stunning...

And pōpōhau (snowballs or Hydrangea) are starting up here in Volcano.  Lots of young, whitish green inflorescences thatʻll mature to various shades of blues and purples because of the acidity of our soils.  Add lime to turn soil alkaline, and flowers will be pink.


And Stephanotis are going crazy on Hilo fences.  No wonder theyʻre popular for June wedding bouquets.


And yes, all the flowers noted above are alien.  They were all introduced for various reasons, and many introduced species, plants and animals both, wreak havoc on native plants and ecosystems.  But theyʻre beautiful nevertheless...

Recently I showed you our Kamehameha flutterby, one of two natives, the other being our Blackburnʻs koa flutterby.  Please visit

 Nate Yuenʻs most excellent photographs  for more photos and captions.  These are by him:


Wings folded, about to sip ʻiliahi (sandalwood) nectar, and another perched on an ʻōhiʻa leaf:


Beauties!

When I was small, working in the garden amongst the vegetables and flowers was a regular thing.  My dad would decide what was planted where, and I helped plant, weed, and eventually harvest.  We often seemed to have a patch of corn.  Planted in a square, so pollen falling from tassels had a better change of landing on the cornsilk, fertilizing and creating kernels.  Way better than planting corn as a border and having pollen simply be wafted away by winds.

When we picked and shucked the ears of corn, sometimes weʻd find these guys:


Corn earworm caterpillars munching away on the kernels.  Yuk.  Theyʻd get squashed.  They were accidentally introduced to Hawaiʻi in 1930, and unfortunately they eat lots of other vegetables too.



And the caterpillars are kalakoa...variegated...


And...a few weeks ago, while I was contemplating the pulelehua chrysalis and awaiting the Kamehameha flutterby to emerge, I remembered the above.  Weʻd find this things in the dirt in the corn patch while hoeing and weeding.  Maybe an inch long, very shiny, theyʻd wriggle when picked up.  And yes, theyʻre the 3/4" long pupae, cocoons of the corn earworm moth.  Pretty small, with a wingspan of an inch and a half.


Not particularly attractive, and not particularly destructive, they were an expected annoyance.

The sunny yard beckons, but before I sign off, here are a couple newly issued maps by our friends at USGS Hawaiian Volcano Observatory.  A handy summary compilation of historic lava flows on Hawaiʻi nei.  Always good to remember the possibilities.

 See the Kīlauea map, and lots of other info at  https://volcanoes.usgs.gov/volcanoes/kilauea/geo_hist_summary.html





OK then.  Till next time...PLEASE be smart about getting out, visiting, and playing.
WEAR A MASK...etc etc etc.  And PLEASE VOTE!!!  Vote for Change.  Vote for Innovation, Creativity, Competence.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

07 June 2020

June 7, 2020. And here we are...HULIAU

Drizzly mists swirl gently up here this morning.  Iʻve been contemplating, watching, musing, the tumult in America.  By turns fascinated, disgusted, appalled, and now encouraged.  It seems that "huliau" is entirely appropriate to describe these times.  I pray that there is change.  Positive change for all.  

huli.au
1. n. Turning point, time of change. ʻO ka hoʻohui ʻāina, he huliau ia no Hawaiʻi, annexation was a turning point for Hawaiʻi.
2. vi. To think of the past, recall the past. Ua ʻākoakoa mākou no ka huliau ʻana, we gathered together to recall the past.
I pray that our leadership, at all levels, are paying attention, though itʻs abundantly obvious that some arenʻt and canʻt be bothered.  Iʻve been cursing, gesticulating at scenes on TV, wondering is NOW the time?  Yes.  Itʻs indisputable that Black people in America have been mistreated in North America for 401 years, beginning with the arrival of the first ship transporting slaves from Africa to the East Coast.  There have been centuries of abuse and discord, causing rancor on the part of Blacks.  
Please make time to listen:
Some in Hawaiʻi nei may not be familiar with the struggles of Black people, and may lack personal experience or insight with those struggles, other than that gleaned from Media.  But watching events unfold over the last two weeks have shaken many awake.
Police Brutality, Inattentiveness to Health issues, Economic Plight and Blight, not understanding, or worse, not caring or wanting to understand The Others amongst us, have helped us all arrive here.  All of us.  Collectively.  Itʻs been heartening to see the multi...everybodys Marching and Demanding.  Standing and Sitting Quietly and Demanding.  No More...
We have our own issues in Hawaiʻi nei.  Native Hawaiians at the bottom of many socio-economic indices.  Entrenched politicians and bureaucracies and unions [Term Limits, anyone?] Systems that donʻt work.  Bureaucrats comfortable with the status quo.  There remain thousands of our citizens waiting for Unemployment Insurance Benefits.  An antiquated computer system and political leaders unaware, unable, unwilling to see that they are the problem.  Too much backscratchslapping and winking.  Petty bickering, worse than in elementary school, amongst supposed "Leaders".  Since they seem unable to get it together, itʻs become abundantly clear we need to help them.
VOTE!
Vote them out of office.  Demand change.  Stop being complacent and compliant.  Demand answers.  Demand accountability.  Demand that blank-faced bureaucrats whose mantra is No Can...Demand that they get out of the way.  Demand Policy Change.  Repeal and Rewrite Laws and Rules.  If "Cannot", fix the laws so Can!
My scribbling and ranting wonʻt solve the problem, but if there is collective will, anything is possible.  In the meantime...
Friend Eric Franke, a photographer:  https://ericfrankephoto.darkroom.tech/
generously shared photos he captured on June 3, 2020 at Maniniʻōwali and Kua Bay.  His timing was perfect.  I needed the huliau, to recall the past, to remember that day 48 years ago when guided by Tōb, I met Maniniʻōwali.  We had backpacked in along the coast from the then new Keāhole Airport.  We got to Kahoʻiawa, at the foot of Kuili, and I said Iʻm done.  Nuff aready.  Too hot and tired to be bothered.  Tōb said No No No...come over here...and there, at the lae at Punaloa he pointed out the clean white sand, just a small pocket... over there... Below, Punaloa is that little black point on the distant horizon.

Above, the long rock just in front of Eric is Maniniʻōwali.  Her story can be found in "Kona Legends" a classic by Eliza D. Maguire.  Kuili is the hump on the left horizon, and yes, the sparkling Maniniʻōwali blue waters of Kua Bay beckon still.  Especially on mornings when only a handful of people are there.


Above, manini and friends, among them weke and kūpīpī, explore Maniniʻōwali...
And thatʻs how today is celebrated, with both definitions of HULIAU activated, looking toward a future of positive change, while remembering those idyllic sunsoaked days, wandering barefoot on brown pāhoehoe, skin and hair scented with monoi, playing in the waters, and smiling.


As always, with aloha.
BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

03 June 2020

Wednesday, June 3, 2020. more Unfurling, and Aerial Viewing

I am so very grateful...after a wet cold winter, Lono is withholding his rains here at Keaʻau ma uka.  Weʻve another cloudless morning, one when sunrise light oranged ʻōhiʻa treetops and dangling dewprisms on fresh hāpuʻu scintillated while various manu trilled cooed and called.  Ahhhhh

A PS of sorts:  This morning an ʻamaʻu outside livingroom window attracted my attention.  Pepeʻe unfurling.  Middle foreground below is the darkgreen frond of last season, while three fresh ones reach for the sky.  Even in brightgreen tangle, ʻamaʻu are distinctive, though slightly windowblurred.

  
Mostly we see ʻamaʻu in fields of lava or along Hilo-side-roadside of the Saddle.  They sometimes sport red young growth, but the ferns are short.  Maybe waist high.  These approach eight feet in height; the plant more than 35 years old and in rainforest.  Environment matters.

Friend ac saw these along Saddle Road several years ago...




And the pic above so reminds me of our pulelehua, Vanessa tameamea, the endemic Kamehameha flutterby.  We see it in places like Kīpukapuaulu in the Park (Open now for your strolling pleasures!) where an abundance of māmaki, a favorite host plant, provides food and habitat.

A friend has pulelehua visit her native-plant-filled yard.  She is enthralled by them and more patient than I, so LD provides a netted shelter, protection from ravaging mejiro and Jacksonʻs chameleons who feast on fat caterpillars.

Below, from Jim Denny on Flickr:


Mejiro / Japanese white-eye (Zosterops japonicus) 


Pu`u O Kila
Koke`e, Kaua`i

This one has a recently captured insect larva. On this day it was also taking nectar from the yellow curved flower seen in the background (Scaevola glabra). It doesn't have the long curved bill needed to feed on the flower as does the endemic `I`iwi, but it has learned to make a hole at the base of the flower and rob the nectar. It may have learned this from the `Amakihi which routinely does this to lobelias. The Mejiro is not native to Hawai`i. It was introduced to the islands in the early 1900s along with many other foreign birds. It is a very adaptable bird that can be seen from dry desert-like conditions on leeward coasts to the wettest high mountain forests.


And this no longer pestiferous beastie I spied on the road not far from LDs kauhale.  



I know... "But theyʻre cool!  They make great pets!" But when I look out my windows and see them slowly skulking on hāpuʻu or uluhe, I am NOT happy.

Not long ago LD shared this series:


A fat "J" suspended from a silken pad



Twenty minutes before emerging after 21 days in its chrysalis.


Seconds after emerging, wings wrinkled.


After 45 minutes spent drying, unfurling and expanding.


An hour later.


Ta-DAH!!!

Kinda hard to Be Outside Paying Attention to this process, so I am SOOO grateful to LD for sharing the results of her diligent patience!!!

Like a flutterby, letʻs take to the air!  USGS HVO did so on May 29, taking advantage of our fair weathers.  Go to https://hvo.wr.usgs.gov/cams/  and click on "Photos & Video".

Absent being able to walk to Keanakākoʻi, this is a substitute of sorts.  The view is very similar to my headline blog photo.  Note the green of Kapāpala Ranch pastures and the horizon of Maunaloa in the distance.  A cool thing is the lake at the bottom of Halemaʻumaʻu.  Itʻs steaming.  The steams rise an condense, forming that kinda spherical cloud whose kinda spherical shadow is perched on the rim of Kaluapele.  The māhu hoʻokino, said name provided by friend KR.  

Māhu (steam or vapors), hoʻo (from yesterdays post... an activator, here preceeding kino (body).  

Hoʻokino = to take shape, embody; to develop, as a puny infant; to take form, as a spirit (P/E Hawaiian Dictionary).

As weʻve learned, and perhaps you remember, Kūkamāhunuiākea is the elemental whose kuleana, responsibility, is steam.  His spirit is manifest in that particular cloud that develops and is suspended over the pit.



Above is a screenshot of another image taken on May 29, 2020 by HVO staff.  This one shows in very fuzzy not-detail, Pōhaku Lupe, or Kalupe, The Stingray... Its body is the fat horizontal pale grey very near the base of Palikapuokamohoaliʻi, directly below the parking lot at the Kīlauea Overlook, east of Uēkahuna.  Its tail runs off to the right, and ends at a pointy parallelogram.  See it?

And just because I long to return... Keanakākoʻi middle foreground, the light tan of the Puhimau hotspot, the blue Pacific in the distance...same HVO photo series.  Weʻll share more about Puhimau next time.


But now, if I ever expect to stroll Keanakākoʻi without incident, Iʻm off to walk at the Golf Course...

Please PayAttention to guidance regarding CoViD19 and our health...Be Safe.  Be Well.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

01 June 2020

Monday, June 1, 2020. The Unfurlings...

Summertime... Yesterday was one of those infrequent jawdroppingly gorgeous days up here.  Low humidity, clear brilliant blue skies all day, gentle breezes...and lehua continue to bloom, though not as heavily as last year, and hāpuʻu (tree ferns) unfurl their pepeʻe.  The seasons of our forests...

Hoʻowehe.  "Hoʻo" is a prefix that activates the word it preceeds.

wehe
1. vt.To open, untie, undo, loosen, undress, uncover, unfasten, unlock, unfurl, unsheath, unwrap, unhook, exorcise; to take off, as clothes; to take apart, as a machine; to unfix, as a bayonet; to tip, as a hat; to solve, as a problem; to cleanse of defilement, remove, forgive, satisfy (see ex., kīkīpani 1). See ex., alaulaWehe ʻaha mele, to hold a concert. Wehe ā kohana, to strip naked. Wehe i ka pihi, unbutton the buttons. hoʻo.wehe To cause to open, undo, etc. (PCP we(f,s)e.)
So hoʻowehe is, in the following instances, to unfurl or to unwrap.  
Browsing the Dictionary is a pleasure.  One can sit and pageturn for however long it suits.  And random is the best, because you never know what will attract your attention.  There is always, always, something to learn, specific or obscure, itʻs always interesting.
Many hāpuʻu pulu (the ones with the golden, soft pulu) are just about pau expanding their pepeʻe, the coiled up fronds.  
Iʻve been photographing one particular hāpuʻu from the kitchen window for a few months.  The window may help explain the fuzziness of the pics, but the idea was to document the wehe-ing of the fronds.  As with many many of our endemic (unique to a specific area) plants, many uses were discovered for various parts.  And hāpuʻu are no exception:
hā.puʻu
n.
1. An endemic tree fern (Cibotium splendens, formerly called C. chamissoi), common in many forests of Hawaiʻi, as at Kī-lau-ea Volcano, and now frequently cultivated. These ferns grow about 5 m high, and the trunks are crowned with large, triangular, lacy-looking fronds up to 2.7 m long, their light brown stems rising from a mass of silky, golden pulu (wool). Young stems were formerly used to make hats; the pulu was used as a dressing and to embalm the dead and later as stuffing for pillows and mattresses. The starchy trunk core has been used for cooking and laundry, the outer fibrous part to line or form baskets for plants. Young shoots are called pepeʻe. (Neal 10.) Also hāpuʻu pulu.
The above uses are aside from using them for landscaping, or a trunk upon which to grow orchids.
HOʻOWEHE NĀ PEPEʻE
Probably best to simply scroll down...


Above, February 27, the heads of pepeʻe beginning to emerge.  



March 15, enshrouded with pulu


March 31


April 6


April 20


April 27


June 1

During May, the pinnae have firmed up, lost their droopyness, and become a darker green.  The frond is heavier, and has a more graceful arc.  The sequence above took three months of slow, incremental change.  Kinda reminds me of nūnī.  slow Slow SLOW... But surely getting better.



Above, the still-soft bright green frond, next to one in the process of unfurling.  NOTE:  the central rib, the side "branches", and the pendant (droopy) "branchlets".

Or...


USDA Forest Service

Then below, an ʻamaʻu from friend ac... Note that pinnules are on the midrib...one less "branch", and the frond is arranged more simply. 

And closeups... First hāpuʻu pulu.  I love seeing the taut pulu covering the tightly coiled pinnae.


Then, again, below, the more simply arranged ʻamaʻu.  Its pulu is more hair-like.



Pulu, pulu, pulu... Lots of pulu.  An industry?

Hawaii Nature Notes, November 1953, v5n2


The "Factory" mentioned above was mainly a field for drying pulu, along with accessory buildings.  The region was leased by a Hawaiian gentleman, Lord George Kaina, who happens to have been related to Isabella (Izzie) Abbott, she of limu and Hawaiʻi ethnobotany fame who grew up in Kapuʻeuhi (Glenwood), relatively close to the pulu processing area.

And that "rough road"? Some of it was made of hāpuʻu trunks laid crosswise, making for a very bumpy corduroy road.  Imagine that!  "Corduroy" refers to the texture and the "ride" one gets while traversing the route.  Kinda like when people drive too fast on gravel roads, the bumpbumpbump somehow sorts the gravels and creates humpy lines perpendicular to the shoulders, making for an extremely jarring passageway.


Try wrap your mind around 6.6 MILLION pounds of pulu!  I canʻt.  The numbers above are from Thrumʻs Hawaiian Annual.  An industry developed here by resourceful folks who apparently were excellent marketers too, engaged workers to harvest, dry, bag, and export pulu.  The Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite once had pulu-stuffed mattresses and pillows.  But...pulu disintegrates fairly quickly, and doesnʻt maintain fluffiness.  Built-in obsolescence.  If only such creativity and energy were present today as folks searched for alternatives to tourism.  Actually, I think the energy and creativity are there, especially among younger people.  Itʻs just that many, too many, Legislators are stuck in the old way of doing things.  Auē!!!



The Bobby-dwarfing specimen of hāpuʻu pulu above is in a friends yard.  We think that this little area was perhaps missed in the 1960ʻs or so when massive amounts of hāpuʻu were pillaged from forests and sold, sometimes to fashion decorative tikis (kiʻi), as these found on an online auction site.  The furriness of the trunk are the roots of the tree fern.



Trunks were also chipped/chopped as media sold to orchid growers, or, more simply, the trunks were "planted" in the ground, and stems of vanda orchid tied or fence-nailed to them as was done at Kapoho in the 1950s, 60s and 70s.  The darkish line across the bottom of the photo below are sections of hāpuʻu, and the puʻu is Waiapele (Kapoho Crater).  

In the Soil Conservation Service 1973 "Soil Survey of Island of Hawaii" by Harry H. Sato, we learn that in 1964, according to the US Census of Agriculture, there were 35 vanda-type orchid farms on our fair isle, and they sold 27,817,600 flowers.  And when the publication was written, our island population was 65,941.

dissolve.com  By Pacific Stock for Kensington
The flowers were carefully taken apart and the bottoms were commonly fashioned into lei vanda.  Properly, the "bottoms", the darker purple, orangey yellow part, are labellum.

If your timing is good, and flowers are blooming, and leimakers are inclined, we can still buy lei vanda today.  Try KTA in Hilo...

withouraloha.com on Pinterest

Too, back to hāpuʻu, there was an idea in the 1920s that a starch industry (more creativity...) could be started.  


But...there always seems to be a "But..." hāpuʻu grow slowly.  Perhaps its saving grace.  You might calculate and imagine how old my companion pictured above is.


And folks remain optimistic and try try again to create industry.

Thatʻs it for today.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com