Spirit of Aloha | Features | July/August 2007

Travelers’ Tales
By: Veneeta Acson

Walking Waikīkī

PHOTO: HAWAI‘I STATE ARCHIVES PHOTO: DARRELL ISHII

Walking has always been my preferred way of relaxing. In the 1970s, when I was a graduate student in the University of Hawai‘i’s linguistics de­part­ment, I used to walk to de-stress. For­tunately, my mother lived in Wa­kīkī, so a trip there was a double pleasure: coffee on her länai and a calming environment to work on my dissertation.

Once, walking down her street, Keo­niana, I wondered what the name meant. Since I always carried in my back­pack Place Names of Hawai‘i by Pukui, Elbert and Mookini, I found that the name referred to an officer who had served under the Kamehamehas. I thought that was very interesting. And what about ‘Olohana Street, a few blocks away? That street referred to his father, a castaway English sailor.

That caught my attention. Moving on, I realized that four street names along the Ala Wai were grouped together because Queen Lili‘uokalani had one of her homes there. Now I was hooked.

Thus began my personal journey to unearth the history of Waikīkī. Soon, I realized that the layers were very deep and that they were not necessarily hidden. Indeed, almost all of Waikīkī’s history is still right in front of us: the Kahu­na Stones, for instance; the pilings from the former Castle estate; the bench on which Robert Louis Stevenson and Prin­cess Ka‘iulani sat; and my latest discovery—stones from the original wall of the Heiau ‘Apuakëhau at Helu­moa, near the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. There were hundreds of discoveries to be made.

I became very curious about why the Royal Hawaiian Hotel was so named. What a regal name! As it turns out, the Royal Hawaiian and Moana hotels stand today in precisely the area where the Hawai­ian monarchy once lived. I immediately set out to read everything I could on Waikīkī, especially all the tourist materials. Soon, I was inundated with volumes of information and a variety of conflicting stories.

At that point, I thought it would be interesting to head over to the Hawai‘i State Archives and search for old photos and even old documents to explore who lived there, and, perhaps, even why.

Quickly, I made a great find. I came across an 1881 Ha­waiian Government survey map of Waikīkī and immediately requested a copy. These maps clearly show at least three main rivers flowing down from the mountains straight into the Pacific Ocean—the waters directly offshore in Waikīkī. There’s certainly no Ala Wai Canal on that map.

As it turned out, local Hawaiian businessmen built a canal to drain the rivers and further develop Waikīkī as a resort area. The project, called the Waikīkī Reclamation Drainage Canal, was be­gun in 1921 and was finished by 1928, thereby drastically altering not only the topography, lifestyle and fate of Wai­kīkī, but also the life of the Hawaiian peo­ple. Heretofore, the area included not only the rivers, but also taro fields and fishponds, attended to by local Ha­waiians, and later rice fields and duck shelters tended by immigrant Chinese.

As I walked in Waikīkī, I made more discoveries, something exciting at every turn:
• The stone walkway at Tusitala Street, full of interesting small-frame houses, an intimate neighborhood near the site of the Cleghorn home, where Robert Louis Stevenson used to visit.
• The stone bench at the Princess Ka‘i­u­lani Hotel, where Stevenson and Prin­cess Ka‘iulani sat and read.
• The ‘akia plant, native only to Ha­wai‘i, at the Hilton Hawaiian Village.
• The magnificent koa wood in the Mc­Donald’s Restaurant at Discovery Bay.
• The Jean Charlot murals in the First Hawaiian Bank, near the new Waikīkī Beach Walk. This was an important re­discovery, because in the first edition of my book I describe a Charlot painting at the Beach Bar at the Hilton Hawaiian Village, which is no longer there.

As I made new discoveries, I wanted to share the information with the world. As I wrote and documented my facts, I wanted a decidedly Hawaiian slant using not only authentic Hawaiian language but also honoring Hawaiian culture and religion.

I began setting up the walks by simply meandering around Waikīkī. Little by little, I asked friends and family to ac­company me, to provide another set of eyes. For the first edition, I walked with my mother, my husband and a linguist friend, Kent Sakoda. Usually I was able to thank them with a lunch at one of my favorite spots: soba at the Prin­cess Ka‘iulani, an elegant meal at the House Without a Key at the Halekülani, and my all-time favorite, the Hau Tree Länai at the Kaimana Beach Hotel.

By the second edition, my children were grown, and my daughter, Saman­tha, had a special attachment to the book, since the first edition had been dedicated to her. She tirelessly walked with me, pointed out changes from the first edition, and shared my joy in the glory of Waikīkī. We were thrilled one day to see that the Waikīkī Theater was still alive, and then disappointed, on Aug. 2, 2005, when it disappeared. How­ever, the redevelopers of the property realized this architectural jewel, so they re-created the Art Deco architectural elements that had once graced the original building.

In 1995, a wonderful book by George Kanahele, Waikīkī 100 B.C. to 1900 A.D.: An Untold Story, was published. This is a beautifully heartfelt book about the history of Waikīkī up to the end of the monarchy. The walking tours along the Waikīkī Historic Trail were based on Kanahele’s books.

Alas, these walks have now been disbanded, leaving be­hind the informative surfboard trail mark­ers. I was fortunate enough to base some of the material in the second edition of my book on Kanahele’s words.

My book has nine walks, but why only nine? Originally, there were 10, but my first publisher wanted a smaller book. I complied, incorporating aspects of one full walk into surrounding walks.

Now, after so much walking and nosing around, what are my favorite Wai­kīkī walks? Two especially are memorable. In my book, Walk Five takes us through the key sites of the last days of the Hawaiian monarchy. It focuses on the lives of Hawai‘i’s last two monarchs, King Kaläkaua and Queen Lili‘uokalani, and their relatives, at the end of the 19th century. This walk illuminates Wai­kīkī in all of its glory and contrasts the myriad lifestyles of Waikīkī today: ho­tels and condominiums juxtaposed along with small homes and lovely stone-covered pathways, such as the walkway at the Diamond Head extension of Tusitala Street.

My other favorite walk (Walk Nine) takes you to the Kahuna Stones, located on the sand near the Waikīkī Beach Center pavilion, which are the most sa­cred vestige of old Waikīkī, and conjure up so many images of times past that I get chills when I stand before them.

As I take my walks, I feel that each one is a vignette of the lives and history of Hawaiians who once lived or now live in Waikīkī. By Hawaiian, I include not only people of Ha­waiian ancestry, but also those persons who were born in Hawai‘i of every ancestry, as well as those of us who were born elsewhere and came here as transplants. To me, the Hawaiian phrase pīpī holo ka‘ao says it all: “Sprinkled, the tale runs.”

Veneeta Acson is the author of Waikīkī: Nine Walks Through Time, published by Island Heritage. SPIRIT OF ALOHA asked her to write about the experience of researching the book.

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