Seasons, Months … Times of Year

In Hawaiʻi’s prior subsistence society, the family farming scale was far different from today's commercial-purpose agriculture.  In ancient time, when families farmed for themselves they observed and adapted; products were produced based on need and season.

Hawaiians divided the year into two seasons – Kau (Summer – when it was dry and hot; beginning in May when Makaliʻi (Pleiades) set at sunrise;) and Hoʻoilo (Winter season when it was rainy and chilly; beginning in October.)

The Makahiki celebrated the harvest and Lono, god of fertility and rain. It is similar in timing and purpose to Thanksgiving, Oktoberfest and other harvest celebrations (beginning in late-October or early-November when Makaliʻi is first observed rising above the horizon at sunset, the Makahiki period continued for four months.)

Various areas around the islands had different names for the specific months (some of the same names applied, but they were not always attributed to the same months.)  The succession of months begins with ʻIkuwa, the end of summer (Kau) and the beginning of Makahiki (harvest festival.)

As an example, the names of the months in the district of Kāʻu on the Island of Hawaiʻi in their order illustrate the family’s seasonal activities:

ʻIkuwa (October-November)—“Loud voice”: This is the time of thunder in the uplands, wind in the lowlands, and crashing surf along shore.

The season of storm and rain was termed Hoʻoilo, including roughly the period of November through March. It commenced with ʻIkuwa, when Lono's thunder resounds over uplands and plain.

November is a noisy month with variable strong winds; and with the wind comes the roaring and pounding surf on Kāʻu's lava-walled shores and small steep beaches.

Welehu (November-December)—The “ashes” (lehu) of fires for cooking and warmth, as the wind swirls about the eating and work areas.

About this time, and continuing through the rainy months until March, there was and is little deep-sea fishing, and inshore fishing depended on those occasions when the sea was not too rough.

Equally, upland work, such as cutting timber, stripping bark for cloth and for fiber, collecting wild foods and hunting birds, was gradually abandoned because of the rains.

It was a time of being inside the respective homesteads: a time for work that could be done under a roof and out of the wind.

Makaliʻi (December-January)—The “little eyes” (makaliʻi) or shoots of yams, arrowroot, turmeric, looking like points or eyes (maka) are showing.

Kaʻelo (January-February)—The (ka) drenching (elo) time, as the rainy season and southerly winds culminate and subside, as northerly winds push in. This is the month when migrating birds are fat and greasy (eloelo).

Kaulua (February-March)—“Two together” (ka (the) lua (double)), i.e., partly cold and partly warm: alternating cool and warm spells. Kaulua also means “of two minds,” “indecisive”: the weather is “undecided,” so people are uncertain whether to go mauka or makai, go out or stay in.

With the ground well-soaked, and with the ending of the heavy rains that wash out the tilled soil on slopes, every household turns in February and March to the planting of their taro, sweet potato, gourds (in the lowlands,) paper mulberry and olona  for fiber (on the upper slopes,) yams and arrowroot (in the upland.)

Nana (March-April)—The word means “animation.” Life in plants shows vigor, young mother birds (kinana) are on the move, fledglings (pupua) are trying to get out of nests.

Welo (April-May)—“Vining out” (like a tail, welo): The sweet potatoes, yams, morning glory and other vines are spreading with little shoots, like tails.

During April, gardens are tended; by May plants both domesticated and wild are growing vigorously, and in May quick-growing varieties of sweet potatoes can be eaten, and wild yams and arrowroot are coming to maturity and can also be eaten. They come into their prime in late-May and June.

Ikiʻiki (May-June)—“Warm and sticky,” uncomfortable: Now there is little wind and it is humid.

This moves into the early hot season (Kau.)  This is the time when women are working at making bark cloth (kapa) at home. Men are actively hunting in the forest, fishing at sea, busy with their nets, canoes and gear at the hālau (shed) by the sea.

By June, wild foods are abundant in the forest, potatoes plentiful. Inland women-folk migrate to the shore, and there live in caves and shelters.

With their fishing baskets (hinaʻi), salt and fish baskets, mats and utensils, they catch small fish like manini spawn, collect and store salt that has dried in the pools in black lava depressions by the shore.

Kaʻaona (June-July)—“Pleasantly (ona) rolling along (kaʻa).” The serenely moving puffy clouds (kaʻalewalewa) roll along mountain and horizon. Ona means lure in fishing: figuratively, then, attractive, alluring.

Summer is the time for deep-sea fishing in particular. (In the old days, inshore fishing was restricted during spawning season, from February to late May.)

Hina-ia-ʻeleʻele (July-August)—“Dark (ʻeleʻele) clouds inclining (hina-ia) mountainwards.”

In July, gourds (and, after introduction, melons) ripen on the kula kai. It is increasingly hot and dry. Upland farmers have mulched their taro and potato patches with dried grass and fern.

August is hot, but some dark clouds appear and bring showers; as they fall, the mulch is turned back from plants, then replaced when the rain has soaked in. At the shore in caves, and at home, salt and dried fish and octopus are stored in quantity.

Then come the twin months, September-October, Mahoe-mua (Twin-before) and Mahoe-hope (Twin-behind, or after), with increasing showers and rough seas alternating with fine weather. The wild ground growths in the uplands are dying down; it is time to harvest potatoes before the heavy rains come.

Mahoe-mua (August-September)—“The twin before (first twin).”
Mahoe-hope (September-October)—“The twin behind (second twin).”
These two months, in weather, are as alike as twins. Rains and wind alternate with good weather.

It is time to be industrious at deep-sea fishing on good days, before the winter storms commence. Great pieces of the larger firm-fleshed fishes (bonito, tuna, albacore, swordfish, dolphin) are sun-dried to preserve them till eaten. Sweet potatoes are likewise preserved by cooking and sunning.  (Information here is from Handy, Handy & Pukui.)

This is the cycle – to be repeated, year after year.  The image shows the district of Kāʻu on the Island of Hawaiʻi.

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© 2014 Hoʻokuleana LLC

Growing Pains

Oʻahu is about 382,500-acres in size; the district of Puna on the island of Hawaiʻi is about 320,000-acres in size – almost same-same.

According to the 2010 census, Oʻahu has about 955,000-people and Puna has about 45,500.  That means there are less than a half-acre per person on Oʻahu and over 70-acres per person in Puna.

For some, it sounds like optimal living; and, many are moving to the Big Island to enjoy this rural lifestyle.

Open spaces with room to roam, it sounds kind of like the Wild West.  And, for some, that’s its nickname, however, not with the same context.

Wait, there’s more.

Between 1958 and 1973, more than 52,500-individual lots were created.  There are at least over 40 Puna subdivisions. Geographically, these subdivisions are sometimes as big as cities.

For example, Hawaiian Paradise Park has over 8,800 building lots and is reportedly the second largest private subdivision in the United States.  It is over 4-miles long and nearly 3½-miles wide.

Back then, they plotted out the subdivisions in cookie-cutter residential/agricultural lots across a grid, with very little space for other uses (such as parks, open space, government services, regional roads … the list goes on and on.)

To add insult to injury, most subdivision lots are accessed by private, unpaved roads. The streets generally lack sidewalks and lighting, and do not meet current County standards in terms of pavement width, vertical geometrics, drainage and other design parameters.

There are only two main roads to move the people in the district in and out – one (Route 130 - Keaau-Pahoa Road) goes into Pahoa to Kalapana; the other (Route 11 - Volcano Highway) serves the lots up in the Volcano area.

Most lots rely on individual catchment systems (captured off the roof and rainfall stored in water tanks) supplemented with private delivery trucks for drinking water.  None of the subdivisions have central sewer systems. Large sections of some subdivisions are off the power grid.

Oh, and one more thing, about 6,400 subdivision lots lie in the highest lava hazard zone and over 500 of these are exposed to additional risks from subsidence, tsunami and earthquakes.

That’s not just hazards noted on a map; nearly 2,500 of these lots have been covered by lava flows or have been rendered unbuildable by shoreline subsidence over the years.

While most of these subdivisions are on agricultural-zoned lands, the actual use of developed lots is predominantly residential.

At the time these subdivisions were approved, the Puna district was sparsely populated and, with the exception of a sugar plantation and a small-scale visitor attraction at the volcano, which had not yet been developed as a national park, there was little economic activity in the area.

Shortly after the approval of the first of these subdivisions, Hawai‘i was admitted as the 50th state. That event, coinciding with jet travel, spurred increased investment in the Islands.

To prevent the excesses of land speculation, Hawai‘i adopted the first State Land Use Law in the nation in 1961.

Most of the Puna district was placed in either the Conservation District or the Agriculture District when formal boundaries were established in 1964, and this somewhat served to abate the number of subdivision applications.

However, it wasn’t until the County adopted a subdivision ordinance in 1973, setting more rigorous lot size and infrastructure standards, that large subdivisions with minimal services were effectively discouraged.

In the first decade or so following the creation of the non-conforming subdivisions, lot sales were fairly brisk, but there was little lot development.

In the 1970 Census, the recorded population of the Puna District was only 5,154-residents, most of whom lived in the older settlements of Kea‘au, Pāhoa and Volcano.

That was then, over the years the population exploded, doubling to 11,751 in 1980, then up another 10,000 by 1990 (to 20,781,) and another 11,000 by 2000 (to 31,335,) to the 2010 population of 45,500.

Population growth has worn on the minimal infrastructure, as well as people’s patience.

Today, folks in Puna are living with the lack of planning and regulatory control over the subdivision bonanza days.  But, they do benefit from lower sales prices (associated with the general lack of facilities and the huge availability.)  Some say you are getting what you pay for.

This region is finally undergoing some short and long-range planning.  The Puna Community Development Plan has been adopted (and has already had several amendments.)  Much of the information here comes from the Puna CDP documents.

Depending on your perspective, addressing the issues in this region today is either a planner’s nightmare or a planner’s dream.  This is an area where I would love to get involved – for me, challenges create opportunities.

The image notes the individual parcels within the Puna district (overlaying the Google Earth image.)  At this scale, many of the lots are not discernible – the fully gray areas indicate smaller lot residential uses, with no (or very limited) park space – where you can just see between the lines, these are 1-5 acre parcels.

I have added some other related images in a folder of like name in the Photos section on my Facebook page.

http://www.facebook.com/peter.t.young.hawaii

© 2012 Hoʻokuleana LLC