Hunting&Fishing in Hawaii

Chris flew in Dec 30 and we wasted no time flying the next day to the Big Island where, after staying at the Volcano House and Kilauea Military Camp, arrangements for a guide had been made months earlier from the Parker Ranch. Jack Ku who met us at his home at AM, was amazing as he regaled us with stories of his expeditions with colorful language as we drove almost 2 hours over the completely varied terrain of the biggest of the Hawaii'an Islands. Every eco system except for tundra is represented here.

We arrived somewhere NW of Waimea near Kohola and immediately began the quest for would you believe--goats-!! Goats are endangering the ecology by eating the scrubs and vegetation, and thus causing erosion. So we are doing a favor to nature for each goat we can de-goat and I hate to say: gloat about; that's really baaaaaaad. Sorry.

Chris and Jack's assistant, Bronson, must have tracked over the rough terrain for 8-10 miles all together following trails and sightings of herds that were out of range. Rocks the size of pineapples hidden in scrub grass were potential ankle sprangers. Finally a shot rang out. It was at 1010AM; I was sure hoping Chris had 'gotten his goat'!!! It took another 25-30 minutes for Chris to pop over the hill and gave us the big circle OK sign. I almost cried for him and myself (and the cost of the venture being justified). Jack went over the hill to help Chris and Bronson. Another 20 minutes followed then they appeared with the object of the hunt. It was one of those 'aha' epiphany moments. Suddenly out of somewhere a Hawaii'an chant was heard: 'Kamakanuinuimakahinikanakakamehameha'; we all fell silent as a wave of gentle wind of Pele Noa Na Ka Oi blessed us and kissed our okoles. The above pics describe the scene:

Monday Jan 5 we continued our sporting activities on the island of Kauai, catching up with good friend and minister Steve Bishop of the Eleele Baptist Church, and one of his deacons, Art, who took us fishing, both salt and fresh water. The former was some of the roughest sea cliffs I have witnessed with winds howling at 30 knots. They were able to pull in a few humuhumu-nukunukuapua'a s and threw them back. As they caught each one they sang the song: "My little grass shack in Kalakakua, Hawaii"!!! It was exciting and a little dangerous, especially singing the song and dodging the big waves!! Witness these pics:

These events were more spiritual than physical and will forever be embossed in my heart and mind, as I suppose for Chris also. Jonathan and I had similar father/son experiences on our trips to NY and Chicago. Hunting and fishing with Chris was a special bonding time. The actual hunt and tracking was one thing; the actual kill for him (and me vicariously) was another. In our evolutionary human experience fathers taught sons hunting and fishing and fed their families. The kill was more than for food though; it was a ritual process that gave thanks to God and gave man divine direction and purpose. It was implicit in its meaning where maybe a word cannot be found to describe it. The spiritual implications of the blood sacrifice are so a part of our religions and our Bible, that is whatever we receive, all of it came from Our Great Father in Heaven and we must give part of it back to Him. The other part of this is that the animal's life is given for us and that we must respect it and treat it as if it is the last one on earth. I wonder if we could bring back this spiritual and philosophical teaching in all that we do now on this earth which may be in peril either locally or globally. Now that I have said that Jack made us leave the carcass there for the island gods and pigs. He said they have to eat too. I was hoping to make goat jerky.