Keno thought of the time he’d told Rafe he’d commandeer the ship to take them and their supplies to Molokai. Rafe had also requested, “When Eden arrives the place will be a shock for her. Keep an eye on her, will you?”
“Sure thing, old pal.”
Keno walked to the cabin and entered quietly. He noticed that Dr. Jerome was sleeping and walked to the desk.
Well, I haven’t done a very good job of taking care of her. He opened the drawer. Yep, Miss Green Eyes made a search all right. So she did see me with it. I was sure she hadn’t noticed. A lesson, Keno, never underestimate a woman’s desire to know her man. Worse thing, though, this will just hurt her and Rafe. Miss Bernice Judson would probably smile.
He held the envelope with picture and card in hand and murmured, “I should’ve put it in my pocket. And that’s exactly what I can hear Rafe telling me!”
None of us have been too smart lately, including Rafe. What was he thinking of, going off without talking things over with Green Eyes?
Keno shook his dark head. The rift would tear Rafe and Eden asunder, even if going to San Francisco without talking to her didn’t.
Keno shoved the drawer closed, just as the cabin door opened again and Mrs. Bolton entered, looking at the bunk where Dr. Jerome was still oblivious to all going on around him. She saw Keno and paused.
“Keno, aloha. Dr. Jerome is doing much better.”
“Good news, ma’am. He’s still asleep. I’ll leave, and let you to your business.”
Chapter Eight
Ride the Waves
The following morning Eden was dressed before daybreak.
Wearing a hooded cloak, she joined Uncle Ambrose on the upper deck and huddled over a tin mug of hot coffee.
From a distance Molokai looked forlorn with its black cliffs and low gray cloud cover. She tried to imagine being a recently diagnosed leper getting her first view of the lonely settlement where she would be forced to spend the rest of her life. What abandonment to be left here, separated from your loved ones and your plans for a satisfying life.
My poor, godly mother. All of these years, here, all but forgotten. I must write her story and see it published with all its pathos in the Gazette. Perhaps I should write Great-aunt Nora about this. Maybe she’ll let me write Rebecca’s story for the paper.
Her enthusiasm grew as she contemplated the task. Regardless of her tense state of mind at the moment, she was as ready as she would ever be for the uncharted adventure awaiting her.
“This may be the Hawaiian Islands, but it’s outright cold,” she told Uncle Ambrose who seemed to be enjoying his mug of coffee.
Ambrose glanced toward the black silhouettes of Molokai’s cliffs. “I’ve heard on some areas of Kalaupapa—one of the areas of Molokai—there’s sunlight for just a few hours a day. The cliff overshadows the Kalawao settlement and blocks the sun.”
“A dreary place for the lepers,” she agreed.
Ambrose gravely nodded his graying head. “Yes. And I’ve never been much pleased with your decision to come here, lass, even if your father encouraged it. Rafe isn’t at peace with it, either.”
The mention of Rafe and how he might feel kindled her raw emotions into a flaming irritation. “Rafe? I’m sure he doesn’t care one whit. He’s laid aside any right to judge my plans. He ran away and didn’t even write me a note to explain.”
“Yes, my dear girl, but Rafe’s merely human. Every knight gets unhorsed sometimes in life you know. He can’t bear the thought of being blind.”
“So everyone has assured me,” she said doubtfully. “Everyone except Rafe himself. He can’t become a burden to me.”
Tears pricked her eyes and the wind made it worse. “He could at least have told me so. Any goodbye is better than none. I’ll be curious to know if he feels as honor bound to another woman about his sight as he claims about me!”
Ambrose raised his brows. “What’s this about? You think Rafe is seeing someone else? Now, now! And what’s on your hand but an engagement ring.”
The ring was back at Kea Lani locked securely away until she could return it to him, but she said nothing. She wore gloves this morning, and Ambrose hadn’t noticed its absence.
“You sound bitter today. Surely, lass, he’ll write you from the mainland as he said he would.”
“Perhaps,” she said, and drank from her coffee mug. The coffee was too strong and bitter. Just the way she felt. She understood more about Rafe Easton than anyone seemed to think she did. Even Ambrose didn’t appear to know about Rafe’s past feelings for Bernice Judson, a secret he’d evidently kept for years. Was this recent injury the proverbial thunderbolt that awakened him to realize he did care for Bernice? Enough to break off his engagement?
She merely said, “Well, he didn’t mind going to Parker Judson’s house in San Francisco with his injury. He could trust them, but not me, the woman he claimed he loved and wanted to marry? Ambrose, I wonder if Rafe actually does, or did, love me … I think there might be someone else. Someone he’s afraid to love because of doubts about her faith, and her flirtatious ways.”
Ambrose frowned into his coffee. At last he said, “Your point is taken, Eden. You speak of Parker Judson’s niece. Unfortunately, if it’s true—and I’m not at all certain it is—there will be even more trouble. Zachary is determined to have Parker’s niece as his wife. Keno believes that’s a main reason he accompanied Rafe to the mainland. But I know Rafe. He won’t marry a woman who isn’t committed to Christ.”
So Uncle Ambrose suspected something. I’m the one who’s been unable to see clearly, she thought. So much for my “womanly intuition.” How confident I felt in his love. So confident I thought I could delay marriage until my goals at Molokai were completed.
“However, lass, I’m not at all convinced Rafe is running to someone else on the mainland, as you might suppose. Knowing Rafe, I’d say he was running from himself.”
Keno emerged from the captain’s cabin followed by her father and Dr. Bolton. Eden didn’t need to ask her father how he was faring on this new day. He smiled as he discussed the low tides with Keno and Dr. Clifford Bolton. His cheerfulness showed his enthusiasm for the challenges ahead.
She could not say the same for Dr. Bolton. His fair features had aged considerably in the last six months since the discovery of his leprosy. Nor could she say she was ready to lead the parade, now that the hour was upon them.
At least I’ll see Rebecca, she thought, mollified, but uneasy. What would she say—indeed, what could she say to her mother in so tragic a situation? Words defied the emotions she was sure they both would experience.
“Keno’s decided the waves are calm enough for our landing,” her father exclaimed.
Keno gestured to the seamen who were removing the heavy canvas from the whaleboats. “The kanakas are confident. They’ve been handling oars in rough seas since they were boys. The best conditions for landing are from May to September. The rest of the year storms make landings messy, dangerous, and sporadic.”
“Look,” Eden said, gazing toward the shore, where torches flickered.
“A welcoming committee from the leper exiles,” Keno told them. “Lookouts spied the ship yesterday. They must think we’re bringing food and mail.”
“The steamer isn’t due for another week,” Eden said. She was well acquainted with the schedule of the Board of Health’s supply steamer as was Dr. Bolton who’d led the Board for some years until his recent disease.
Dr. Jerome’s mouth tightened. He looked to Dr. Bolton. “I tell you, Clifford, those early days of the settlement were a shame and a disgrace to the Board, and to the Hawaiian throne. The lepers might have starved out here for all anyone cared. Many of the landings were a horrendous debacle.”
“All true, not that anyone could do much at the time, with no secure landing wharf.”
Eden knew the depressing history of the early settlement, which had lacked sufficient food, adequate personal safety, and medical care.
; The tales that had drifted back to Kalihi hospital throughout those years told of overturned boats and deaths by drowning. The steamers would anchor about a half-mile offshore in the deeper water. Both lepers and cargo were sent by rowboat or whaleboat toward the rocky shore beneath the black cliffs. The attempt to land demanded calm waters as well as high tides to catch and roll the boats to shore.
She could imagine the lepers’ difficulty after a boat overturned, dumping them into the sea. Even though most—especially the advanced cases—were so weak, they had to swim to catch hold of the strong incoming waves to sweep them to the beach. Often they were swept backward and eventually drowned.
It seemed to her that there should have been a safer landing site, but there was no harbor anywhere along the peninsula’s rocky shore. If the sea was calm, the arriving vessels would anchor a half-mile offshore from Kalawao. They would use boats and kanakas to ferry passengers and cargo to the narrow beach. This area was located at the mouth of a valley east of the peninsula. The surf was usually treacherous along this stretch of beach, and the boats were often overturned or swamped. Keno assured them his kanakas handling the oars knew their “business,” as he put it. One glance at their smiling faces and muscled forms convinced Eden.
In the early days many passengers were not so fortunate. A captain might send a loaded whaleboat, then watch helplessly as a great breaker snatched the boat, whacked its steersmen, and fractured the boat on the rocks.
“Sometimes even now, a captain will refuse to attempt a landing,” Keno said. “If he’s impatient or careless, he might pitch his cargo overboard and claim it was delivered.”
On the other hand, if a captain decided to land at the Kalaupapa side of Molokai, the prospects were only slightly improved. To try to land at either shore carried the imminent possibility of loss. The exiles making it to shore, wet and sick would then have to walk two miles inland to Kalawao. When they got there, they had to wander about looking for pieces of wood for a fire to dry their wet clothes and keep them warm through the night. Illness was prevalent. There were a few huts provided, but at times people had to find caves or rocky crevices to settle in until a hut could be added.
At that time, the settlement had no permanent doctor. No one came from the Board of Health to help them, except the appointed superintendent of the settlement, Rudolph Meyer. Eden had heard more than once how he’d been well paid for doing little. The superintendent would assemble the group and march them toward Kalawao. He rode horseback and the lepers followed on foot.
Dr. Bolton then told them of one captain who encouraged the lepers to leap over the rails and swim. Others were dumped into the water. A few might make it, but most were sucked back by the current. If not, the water swept them toward the shore and they were killed upon sharp lava rocks.
“How like this earthly pilgrimage without the Savior,” Ambrose commented. “No safe harbor, no lighthouse to warn heedless arrivals of great dangers ahead. No helping hand, only treacherous rock, and pounding waves to sweep the heedless soul to its final end.”
“Well said,” Dr. Bolton stated.
“In my opinion Rudolph Meyer and the Board of Health did precious little to alleviate their sufferings,” her father said.
“We need to be just in our judgment, Jerome. The problem was then, and remains now, money,” Dr. Bolton said. “The Hawaiian government was deeply in debt and simply didn’t have the finances to provide food, clothing, and shelter for all those people. Even now there is never enough.”
“After the reckless spending by the Kalakaua and Walter Murray Gibson government, I’m not surprised they had no money,” Ambrose lamented. “However, I understand your point. The government can hardly provide every need for every individual.”
“Matters now are much improved from what they were in the 1860s and ’70s,” Bolton said. “Even so, I agree with Jerome—much more needs to be done. Now that I’m one of the exiles maybe I can have more influence with the Board. I shall do my best, anyway.”
“And your abilities as a doctor, dear friend, cannot be too highly appreciated.” Jerome put a hand on his fellow doctor’s shoulder. “With you and Lana working at the research clinic, we’re bound to make great headway.”
The ship weighed anchor and moved a quarter-mile off the coast of Molokai, to the Kalaupapa landing.
When it was time to board the whaleboats, Keno came to Eden, and looking uneasy, ran his hand through his curly dark hair.
Eden smiled. “If you’re worried about me, Keno, thank you. But I’ll be all right—” She glanced toward the swells. “I think,” she added lightly.
“For everyone going ashore, people and cargo are alike, Miss Eden. It’s going to be a little risky and very wet. No one arrives dry, or with much dignity intact. We’ll all be dumped on shore like baggage, drenched to the skin. You’re sure you want to go on with this?”
“Yes. Thanks for your concern. But I’m going.”
“I thought so, but your aunt wanted me to ask you one more time.”
“There’s no turning back for me now.”
Keno’s brown eyes reflected his understanding of the deeper meaning behind her words.
“No,” he said, “I don’t suppose there is.” He gestured. “That whaleboat is the one you’re to ride in. The kanakas are experts. I’ll join them. There’s some canvas inside. Try to keep underneath. I’ve told Mrs. Bolton the same. Those waves can be mighty intimidating.”
He then went off to get Dr. Jerome and Ambrose. Meanwhile, a seasoned kanaka picked up her baggage as if it were feather-filled, and grinned. “This way, miss,” he said as he walked toward the whaleboat.
To board the small craft Eden and others had to cautiously descend a loosely strung “contraption of rope and wood,” as Eden called it. Eden felt tremendous sympathy for the lepers. How difficult this would be in their maimed condition.
Eden was last to go down the rope ladder while Keno and Ambrose held it straight and her father looked on uneasily, calling out to place her feet carefully.
She was finally helped into the boat, breathless from the excitement. She smiled at her father who nodded. While the passengers settled, the four oarsmen, strong and shirtless, pushed off from the ship and began rowing as the steersman turned the bow toward shore.
The cliffs of Kalaupapa appeared to rise, stark and black, from a narrow shore, upon which the waves rolled in with swells of white foam. The cliffs wore a thick layer of cloud which extended for miles along the shore, while below the torches flared and seemed to sway. She imagined lepers gathered, waiting to greet the boats.
Somewhere up there on that promontory of land jutting out over the beach were two villages. At the far side was Kalaupapa. On the other was Kalawao, where the main leper settlement was located. From the beach position beneath the overhang of cliffs, a person could not see the huts. The “village” lay behind the jagged lava rocks and scraggly trees.
An inrushing wave rolled upon them. With shouts in cadence the crewmen pulled in unison upon their oars as the boat moved faster before the wave.
“Pull!” Keno shouted. They gained speed and the swell lifted the entire boat, raising the rear upon the wave’s advancing slope.
Eden wanted to scream, terrified of the deep water as the boat tilted downward. The oarsmen yelled and Eden turned her head in alarm, but their glee assured her they were cheering for having caught the huge wave.
Eden buried her face in Ambrose’s jacket and felt his arm around her. She heard his laughter rising with Keno’s. She remembered then; how it was Ambrose who had taught both Rafe and Keno the ways of surfing the big waves, and diving for pearls.
She groaned, nauseated. Would they ever get there—alive?
Chapter Nine
The Leper Colony
Having caught the wave, the kanaka oarsmen held the oars above water as the wave speedily carried them through the greenish water. All Eden could see in front of them were sharp black rocks along the beach. A scream died i
n her throat. There was no sand at their landing site! Only rocks! Big, black rocks washed with white foam.
“It’s okay! Don’t worry. My cousins are the best of the kanakas!” Keno shouted at her.
Eden saw the glow in her father’s deep-set eyes. This landing was, for him, a victory long fought for and now close at hand.
The boat sped toward Kalaupapa, landing in the curve of the bay beneath the cliffs.
“Get ready!” Keno shouted. She felt his strong grasp on her shoulders.
Near the beach, the swell turned into a wave that rose from behind the boat to break all around them. At the moment when the boat was between the departing wave and the next incoming, the oarsmen slid over the sides into water above their waists. Avoiding the rocks underfoot, they moved the boat toward shore, and then called out, “Now!”
The muscular kanakas were dragging and lifting the heavy boat over rocks to a spot safe from the waves.
Eden lifted the hem of her cape and skirt to keep them from gathering sand. Her skirt, shoes, and stockings were soaked. She was miserable but silenced the inner groan.
When Keno turned back for Eden’s father, Ambrose was still beside Jerome, trying to get him out of waist-deep water while another wave rushed upon them. Keno ran out into the water and helped them reach the shore.
Satisfied that everyone was safe so far, Eden looked up toward the overhanging dark lava cliff said to be the highest sea cliff in the world.
Eden dropped her gaze from the lofty heights to the foot of the cliff wall where she saw some of the lepers, who’d come to meet the boat, huddled against the dank rock, away from the incoming waves and loose stones that would come pelting down. Just then a heavier hunk of rock hurtled close to where she stood. Eden darted nearer the cliff, away from the overhang. Here, against the cliff, she took refuge from the damp wind sweeping in from the ocean.
The lepers watched her, noting the red cross on her nursing pinafore, which she wore over the plain gray dress of her uniform. Her clothes were now dripping wet and her hair was stuck like seaweed to her neck.
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