Aloha ‘Āina
Why Fighting for Molokini Matters
The call of local birds and ocean waves kissing the shore in the twilight hours steadied my spirit. It was a feeling deep in my na’au I’ve experienced once before while traveling to Haleakalā to greet the sun. As I watched the shores of Ma’alaea harbor fade in the distance while salt water misted my skin, an uncontrollable smile grew across my face. There’s something magical about returning to the land generations before you thrived with, a familiarity that’s passed through your DNA even when separated. Without even stepping off the boat, I knew deep in my bones the embrace of the ocean in the same waters my kupuna deeply respected and adored.
Above water our boat rested at the center of a crescent shaped island while I was transported into the world below. I was surprised with bright schools of fish dodging through vibrant coral reefs since I was accustomed to the murky California waters — I almost forgot how to swim. Although I was filled with a deep appreciation for the world I dove into, my dad who spent summers with “Maui Grandpa” in the 1980s was disappointed. Decades prior, he explained, the area was filled with twice the amount of fish and lively coral reefs than today (2017). My amazement and wonder turned into a deep sense of longing for what was and grieving the loss of what should’ve been.
Transforming the pain into motivation, in that moment I decided to protect the ‘āina and life that’s been desecrated at the hands of a white supremacist, settler state. This responsibility and connection to land stems from an indigenous relationship as Kanaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) to be stewards of its needs. Beyond the reefs where dozens of boats unload tourists daily, awaits decades-old unexploded ordnances from World War II littering Molokini. A notorious legacy of United States imperialism that reminds us our struggles are far from over. With the looming darkness of climate catastrophe within the next decade, it’s long overdue for tourists and settlers alike to protect Hawaiian lands bulldozed to construct a tropical façade. We have an opportunity to preserve Molokini’s wonders of biodiversity before it’s sacrificed again for human comfortability.
Under United States occupation, the once thriving land is now suffocated by military presence. Along with a history of environmental negligence, the US military is one of the largest contributors to climate change in the world through immense CO2 emissions surpassing that of countries such as Peru and New Zealand.
The relentless environmental destruction beginning in World War II misused the islands of Kaho’olawe and Molokini as a US military bombing range. Prior to this, Kaho’olawe was mismanaged with goats and sheep overgrazing, that caused accelerated soil erosion. This stark example of abuse resulted in a necessary yet brief remediation period as a Forest Reserve (1910–1918) with nonnative trees known as kiawe (Prosopis pallida) planted for revegetation.
Following the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, martial law declared the islands as “federal property” to be used as bombing practice for the military. They claimed that Molokini resembled a submarine or battleship above ground making it an ideal victim of military abuse. Once bombs landed below the surface, the damage was irreparable destroying large amounts of black coral. Operation Sailor’s Hat in 1965 was a series of 500- ton explosives that simulated a nuclear bomb creating a crater on Kaho’olawe that was more than 280-feet in diameter. First hand accounts of the impacts on coral and marine life from explosive ordinances on Molokini in the 1970s and 1980s were devastating, and caused irreparable damage. Robert Chambers, at the time owner of Hawaiian Pacific Divers of Maui, saw the destruction of biodiversity with his own eyes:
“I’ve dived in this blast area over the years and the bottom is pulverized coral, almost like talcum powder. No new coral larvae can attach to this, and so it remains in this state 30+ years later.”
The overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom in 1893 legally severed the connection to culture and land for generations, many of which could no longer speak their native language and had little knowledge of kanaka mana’o. My family, along with countless others, have taken multiple generations to rekindle the connection as diaspora trends limit the accessibility of Hawaiian culture. Even with the odds stacked against us, colonization couldn’t strip Kanaka Maoli of their deep connection to the land. What the settler government didn’t understand is that connection; they didn’t know the feeling of sacred land destroyed at the hands of foreign invaders would reignite a nation. The 1970s ushered in an era known as the Hawaiian Renaissance that rekindled the aloha ‘āina movement and a sense of pride through identity.
Young activists formed the Protect Kaho’lawe ‘Ohana (PKO), and in 1976 more than 100 protesters departed from Ma’alaea Harbor to occupy the island. Although most boats were intercepted by the US Coast Guard, a group of nine were able to land safely on the island sparking national attention towards the movement of A.L.O.H.A. (Aboriginal Lands of Hawaiian Ancestry) to “Stop the Bombing” with the intention of ending all military use of the island.
“It was a huge story. They would take on the whole federal government, the military, the Navy. Yikes. And the federal government and the Navy couldn’t do anything because they are willing to give up everything. They weren’t compromising. And that whole statement was revolutionary for everyone that wanted to see that there was some justice to the native people in their own homeland.” — Nainoa Thompson, President of the Polynesian Voyaging Society
Activists knew going head to head with one of the largest militaries in the world would come with a cost. In 1977, George Helm and Kimo Mitchell disappeared off the shores of Kaho’olawe attempting to find aid through rough waters. The loss of these young men tugged at the heartstrings of environmentalists and activists alike, refusing to let their sacrifice to protect the islands be in vain. Victory came later that year as Molokini was designated as a Marine Life Conservation District along with the 77 acres of underwater terrain — and this was only the beginning.
In 1980, a lawsuit filed by PKO (Aluli et al. V. Brown [civil suit no. 76–0380]) reached a decision for the Navy to ‘survey and protect historic and cultural sites on the island, clear surface ordnance from 10,000 acres, continue soil conservation and revegetation programs, eradicate the goats from the island, limit ordnance impact training to the central third of the island, and allow monthly PKO accesses to the island’. After years of fighting for the environment, this was a step in the right direction. October 22, 1990 was the day President George Bush declared the islands are no longer subject to military weaponry and the Kaho’olawe Island Reserve Commission (KIRC) was established to handle environmental preservation after nearly 50 years of abuse.
Today Kaho’olawe remains uninhabited due to toxicity in the soil and underwater, but environmental groups and cultural practitioners are permitted on the island. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) found much of the island is barren hardpan with sediment-laden runoff affecting nearshore water quality, threatening the coral reef ecosystem. With the revegetation of native plants to reduce runoff, marine life and watersheds are on a slow journey to restore natural biodiversity.
Molokini is now a Hawaii State Seabird Sanctuary and is home to nesting species such as Wedge-Tailed Shearwaters, and Bulwer’s Petrel. The World Wildlife Fund reports that nearly one-quarter of coral reefs worldwide are already damaged beyond repair, and the other two-thirds under serious threat. With the ocean temperature rising with CO2 emissions — thank you US military — nearly all coral reefs would experience annual bleaching by 2050. The balance of nature is under threat and we all need to join together in protecting what’s left of our marine life and oceans.
In recent events, the Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) notified boaters since November 2019 of the presence of two unexploded ordnance (UXO) around Molokini announcing to take action in the Spring of 2020.
“This process began more than six months ago, and no final decisions have been made and will not be made without public engagement. It’s important we hear from stakeholders.” — Suzanne Case, DLNR Chair
The Navy proposes to detonate the two UXO’s in an effort to minimize the harm to human health, sacrificing the marine life that’s taken years to restore. The islands are at the will of the US military forcing environmentalists, politicians, and activists to raise their voice to preserve the environment.
“To detonate them in place would be an utter disaster based on previous detonations there, they’ve just completely obliterated the reef.” — Alan Friedlander, University of Hawaii marine scientist and Director of the Fisheries Ecology Research Lab
The proposal of detonation caused an uproar with environmental agencies as this may violate EPA laws.
“NOAA Fisheries is aware of the proposal to remove munitions from the Molokini area, and we have advised the Navy EOD that they need to consult with NOAA on the effect of this action on federally protected species under the Endangered Species Act, the Marine Mammal Protection Act, and on Essential Fish Habitat, even when they are acting on an emergency request from the state.” — Jolene Lau, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association
Activists across the Hawaiian islands are organizing and raising awareness that has gained national attention due to the power of social media. A petition with more than 26,433 signatures (as of 07/07/2020) is fighting for a sound solution that protects the fragile biodiversity and coral reefs. With each stakeholder contributing to the conversation, solidarity between the people and their dedication to protecting the environment is the only way to see an equitable solution.
“I was proud to be guided by the kūpuna of the generation before us. Building upon the foundation laid by George Helm before he passed — it’s been 40 years of working as an extended family for Aloha ʻĀina throughout our islands — stopping the bombing of the island; healing the island; reviving the Makahiki ceremonies; opening access to our fishing grounds on Molokaʻi; protecting our iwi kūpuna at Honokahua, Maui; defending Pele from geothermal development; working for Ea, our own self-governance, through state, national and international pathways.” — Dr. Noa Emmett Aluli, a founder of the PKO.
Every aspect of nature across the islands Kanaka Maoli have a mo’olelo that gives reason and establishes a guide for how to interact with it. Oftentimes, it’s referred to as mythology lacking the basis of science or reasoning but I implore you to ask yourself: Why is Hawaiian storytelling considered myth when it guided the people to thrive with the land for centuries? Do I truly understand the meaning of the story and how this influences the relationship to the land?
The misconception that Western knowledge is the only credible form of science is rooted in colonial concepts while discrediting indigenous storytelling that holds valuable ‘ike and mana’o.
I share with you a mo’olelo that explains Kanaka Maoli connection to ‘āina: the birth of Hāloa to Wākea and Hoʻohōkūkalani. Their first child, Hāloanakalaukapalili, was buried after being stillborn and in that same spot the first kalo plant sprouted. The second born was named Hāloa in honor of their first, reminding us that our ancestors are the ‘āina. Just as kalo is a staple that provides for generations, we have a kuleana to tend to and respect the land as we would our elders. Our stories teach us how to interact with those around and the land beneath us.
Leaving Ma’alaea Harbor in the early hours of the morning, I understand that distinct feeling of aloha ‘āina is what the PKO that departed 40 years prior felt. The legacy of our ancestors lives on within us. Their dedication to preserving the life of the land runs through Kanaka Maoli, and are extended to settlers who respect our culture by fostering that connection to the land within themselves. Although the full remediation of Kaho’olawe is a long road ahead, we have an opportunity to change the legacy of our islands.
There’s a chance to right the wrongs of the past and preserve the life that call Molokini home — this time putting the environment first.
