A place of black volcanic rock. Stark against the blue ocean. Black walls of ancient temples at the southern end of Honaunau Bay. Pu‘uhonua O Honaunau National Park. (Say that three times fast!)
This was our main destination for the day. And we timed it well without knowing it, because just after we got there, Kalehua, a park ranger was scheduled to give an afternoon talk. He’s been a ranger there for 25 years, but he says he wishes he started earlier.
Kalehua told us about the place. About the migration of Polynesian people to Hawaii centuries ago. About the four gods, Ku, Lono, Kane and Kaneloa. He told us about kapu (tabu) that governed Hawaiian society. About death to anyone who broke it. To anyone who looked at a chief. To anyone whose shadow fell on royal lands. He told us how the kapu were absolute.
“No misdemeanors,” he said, “only death.”
And he told us how this place… And at this point, he’d stop and say, “Quick!” and point to someone in the audience. “What is the name of this place?” awarding a braided ti-leaf for a correct answer.
He told us how this place was a temple of refuge, a place of forgiveness for anyone who broke the kapu. Forgiveness, that is, if they could reach the sacred grounds by swimming across the bay and clambering up the sharp rocks on the shore before their executioners could catch them.
Today, a long wall and several platforms mark the place. The water of the bay still laps on its rocky shores. And sea turtles take refuge in the shallow tidal pools.
But the chiefs and their kapus are gone.