Itinerant Durangotangs: Hawaii Part Three -- Turkeys and Saints

Wild turkeys roam around Moloka'i

The day after the Lippens's wedding in Hana, Shannon and I headed over from Maui to Moloka'i aboard one of the nine-passenger single engine planes of Mokulele Airlines. Nice views. Next day this view greeted us first thing in the morning:

We stayed in the Ke Nani Kai condos at Kepuhi Beach (Kepuhi -- Gesundheit!), on the west end of the 30 mile long island, along with Reid and Tina Schook, Tina's sister Renee, and Shannon's and Reid's father Bo. Moloka'i is a very laid-back place, the Friendly Isle with a population of less than eight thousand. After the hubbub of the Hana wedding I'm sure Reid and Tina especially welcomed a few days of relaxation at the pool and on the beaches.

Surfing is not without risks

Shannon and I had visited Hawaii before but we became particularly fascinated by Moloka'i after reading Alan Brennert's excellent novel of the same name. We knew we'd have to visit the historic leper colony if ever we were fortunate enough to get to Moloka'i -- and we were! So we did. We hiked 3.5 miles down this muddy trail. In 1980 the old colony -- the entire peninsula you see on the far left -- became Kalaupapa National Historic Park.

This is the top of the 3.5 mile trail down

It rained on us the morning we hiked down, but we got an early start, descended 1800 feet and arrived, after an hour and a half, at the bottom before the mule train came along and tore up the trail worse yet.

Perhaps 20 tourists rode the mules down (one lady dismounted on that table setup above and said, "Can't feel my legs."). About a dozen of us hiked in, and when the dilapidated tour bus showed up (almost an hour late) it held a few people who had paid $500 to be flown to Kalaupapa's tiny airstrip for the tour. $500! But they did also get a box lunch. And a bottle of water.

We had an excellent guide, Norman, who showed us around the village and answered our innumerable questions with the ease of a seasoned pro. It seemed so very appropriate that the Damien Tours company is owned by a former patient. Inside St Francis Church was this humorous but seemingly un-Christian sentiment taped to the top of a pew:

Try the decaf?

Many of the buildings seemed frozen in time, like this early style gas station, still functioning today.

Every June the annual barge docks at the Kalaupapa landing below to deliver all the fuel, building materials, vehicles and miscellaneous bulky items the colony needs for the next entire year.

Aged 70 to 90 and some disfigured, fourteen of the original patients with a history of Hansen's Disease remain today as residents at Kalaupapa. Tourists are prohibited from entering the General Store or the Post Office, so as to respect their privacy. We were not allowed to roam.

In total Kalaupapa village houses about a hundred people. It's situated on the western edge of the peninsula where the weather is milder and the seas calmer; the original settlement, Kalawao, was on the eastern edge. St Philomena Church is the only remaining structure at Kalawao.

Bust of Father Damien in St Philomena Church

Fr Damien's original grave site, at St Philomena Church, Kalawao

Between 1866 to 1932 more than eight thousand victims of Hansen's Disease were banished to Kalaupapa, most of them never to see their families again; seven thousand are buried on the peninsula. It's a somber sort of paradise. Father Damien and Mother Marianne Cope were major figures in the improvement of conditions at the colony. From 1866 when the policy of Separate and Isolate was instituted until 1873 when Fr Damien arrived to take charge, conditions were grim. Mother Marianne arrived in 1888 and succeeded Fr Damien after his death from leprosy the next year. Both were canonized as saints by the Catholic Church.

The tour of Kalaupapa was everything we expected. Recommend it highly.

Hiking back up

By three o'clock we were hiking up the trail again under clear skies, charging back up the slippery slope to stay ahead of the mules. It was a messy slog. And we almost beat them. Not quite. They caught up to us about ten minutes from the top.

This is the view from the lookout point atop the cliffs. The sea cliffs of Moloka'i are reputed to be the highest in all the Pacific, rising 2000 feet on the east end of the island.