Love Finds You in Lahaina, Hawaii

by Bodie Thoene

  For the first time the façade of strength wavered. Auntie Hannah’s eyes brimmed. “It was a long time ago. But I must not get ahead of myself.” She reached for Sandi’s left hand, grasping her wedding ring with thumb and forefinger. “But you know something of heartache I think, eh?”

  “How can you know that?” Sandi asked quietly.

  “Your eyes.”

  “My husband, John. A soldier in Viet Nam. No word. Missing four years. I am hoping…the Paris peace negotiations. Perhaps some word soon.”

  “Auwe, I will pray for you, and for John.”

  Sandi wondered if God would hear the prayers of an old woman when He had been so silent for so long. “Thank you. I mean, mahalo.”

  “And so you try to get on with your life, though your world is unsettled and shattered.”

  “Something like that. I’m here, picking up pieces. I ask questions about your life while I don’t know the answers to my own.”

  “It is no accident that you have come so far to meet an old, old woman. Your steps are ordered by the Lord.” Auntie Hannah passed the wooden box back to Sandi.

  Sandi blinked at the priceless, handwritten document in her lap. “You compiled the research for me.”

  “History books are nothing. The writers of history know nothing of our hearts. Facts? They are details sifted from the truth, interpreted and recorded by conquerors.” A pause. “My dear girl, you must start at the beginning. The story you long to know is a love story first of all. And the greatest love story I know began the day Princess Kaiulani was born.” Auntie Hannah lifted her teacup and settled back in her chair.

  Sandi caressed the box. “Mahalo.”

  Auntie Hannah smiled brightly and shrugged. “But you asked me about tea. Speaking of tea, an appreciation of great tea came later in our lives. Let’s see, then. Yes. Yes.” The old woman inhaled the rising steam. “This is the best cup of tea I’ve tasted since we left England. No one serves tea like the English. I have missed it.” She savored a sip, then peered into her cup and raised her eyes to scan the pictures on the walls. With a sigh she recited the date. “My last really great cup of tea? That would have been 1897. But you see, the story begins some years before that.”

  Sandi opened the cover of the first notebook. The same handwriting that marked the pages of the Bible filled the lined pages… .

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Royal Kingdom of Hawaii, 1889

  It was the rose hour, just before the dawn. Steamer trunks, not yet removed to the waiting ship docked at Honolulu Harbor, littered the bedchamber.

  Princess Kaiulani’s waking thought was that today they would sail far away from Hawaii and Ainahau, the only home she had ever known.

  Hannah stood gazing out the window at the lush tropical grounds bordering the shoreline of Waikiki. She was not yet dressed. Tossing her straight black hair like a mane, she raised her eyebrows slightly in a challenge: “Race you!”

  In what was perhaps their last act before the end of childhood, Kaiulani leapt from bed. In billowing white nightgowns and bare feet, the blossoming teenagers sprinted across the expansive lawn of the Cleghorn family estate. They clambered up the branches of the enormous banyan tree planted by Kaiulani’s Scottish father to commemorate her birth.

  Breathless and laughing, the duo clung to the limbs and shielded their eyes against the rising sun. The mess from last night’s farewell luau had vanished, but the aroma of lomi lomi and imu pig lingered in the air.

  “How can I be so hungry when I ate so much last night?” Hannah moaned.

  “Do the English have luaus?”

  “The haoles come to Hawaii when they want to eat good food.”

  Kaiulani considered the fragile health of her writer friend, Robert Louis Stevenson. “And to enjoy our warm weather. Like Mr. Stevenson.”

  “And the whales.”

  “The whales have almost all left Hawaiian waters now.” Kaiulani searched the waters beyond the reef. “Every year I hate to see the humpbacks go.”

  “The kohola always come home again,” Hannah replied. “You’ll see. Next year.”

  “Next year.” Neither girl was really discussing departing whales. Kaiulani and Hannah would be gone from home for a year. What if it were longer?

  As if in a farewell salute to the princess and Hannah, a great humpback gave a full-on breach just beyond the reef. He splashed down in a geyser of white water. After a moment, the dark fan of the tail flukes flashed and then vanished in the direction of Diamond Head. The ancient volcanic cone crouched on the horizon like a brooding sphinx.

  “Look, he is sounding,” Kaiulani said. “The sun will be up before he surfaces to breathe. Today is the end of whales for us, I fear.”

  “One year only. Not too long to bear.” Hannah squinted against the glare, seeming to hope for a second leap from the depths, but the sea remained calm, yielding no affirming sign from the great beast.

  Would their exile only be a year? Kaiulani did not turn her gaze from the spot where the creature vanished. “I have never told anyone, Hannah. The secret. What Momma said to me.”

  Hannah’s golden Tahitian skin was dappled by sunlight seeping through the banyan leaves. Though everyone had asked about the last words of Princess Kaiulani’s mother, she had never spoken of it. The expression on Hannah’s delicate features remained unchanged, as if learning Kaiulani’s secret did not really matter.

  Kaiulani continued, “Just before she died—”

  Hannah raised her chin in protest. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell me. Maybe she meant it to be just between you.” Hannah did not want to pry into the sacred details of a dying woman’s last words to her daughter. “Look, Kaiulani, the sun is rising like a gold kahili. A good sign for a royal princess.”

  “Everyone else has asked about Momma, and I never tell. Don’t you want to know, Hannah?”

  “Only if you want to tell.”

  Kaiulani inhaled deeply. “Momma sent everyone from the room. I sat beside her. She whispered to me, ‘Kaiulani, soon I am going to die.’ I raised my hand, begging her to say no more. Then she told me she had seen my future. Momma whispered to me, ‘You will go far away for a long time. You will never marry. You will never be queen.’ ”

  Hannah was silent for a time, as if to mull over the grim revelation. “People who are dying sometimes say strange things. So I hear.”

  “What if it was your mother? What if she said such things to you?”

  Hannah scooted farther out on the limb. “I don’t want to be a queen. I never knew my mother. She died the day I was born on my father’s ship. We were halfway around the world from my mother’s home and family in Tahiti. If my mother had last words for me, my father never told me. If they were unhappy words, I would not believe them true. Papa used to say we are created for joy. Like kohola.”

  “Whales are hunted and killed.” Kaiulani frowned at the vision of the wealthy white landowners who dominated the commerce and politics of the Islands. Many among them sought to put an end to the Hawaiian monarchy.

  “Life is too wonderful for unhappy thoughts or dark words,” Hannah chided. “Now my papa is in heaven with my mother, and I am here with you. Like kohola, our souls are destined to return home.”

  Kaiulani reached for Hannah’s hand. “We are like sisters, Hannah, you and I. Both of us daughters of a double race: half Scot and half Polynesian.”

  “Half earth and half sea.”

  “What will our fathers’ white world be like, I wonder?”

  “We look enough alike in the eyes of haoles. They won’t be able to tell who is who.”

  “But more than that, we are true sisters of the heart.” Kaiulani was sorry she had brought up last words spoken by the dying. She searched the sea for a whale spout. “I felt very alone after Mama died—for a long time. Even shut you out. I’m glad our fathers were such great friends. Glad you came to live here. How would I survive if you and Annie weren’t coming to England with me? My heart i
s breaking.”

  Hannah’s straight white teeth flashed as she smiled down at the peacocks strutting beneath the banyan. “No broken hearts, Kaiulani! Listen! I sailed around the world with my father when I was little. Even been to England once. The logbooks of Papa’s ship tell the story. But I don’t remember any of it. The only home my heart knows is here in Honolulu. Here at Ainahau with you and Papa Archie. This journey will be our first real adventure together. Your uncle, King Kalakaua, has decided. And your father, Papa Archie, agrees it is best for the education of the future queen of Hawaii.”

  “I would be happier here.” But there were rumors that perhaps it was also best for Princess Kaiulani’s safety for her to go abroad. Though the island kingdom appeared placid as the flat-calm sea, political turmoil roiled just beneath the surface.

  The princess could not derail Hannah’s optimism. “So, this is how it is, Kaiulani. You and I, we’ll go to this British girls’ school together and learn to be gentlewomen and maybe even fall in love. So much can happen in a year. So much can happen in one day! And then listen, Kaiulani! We’ll come back home to Ainahau. To climb this banyan tree. Like the whales, we’ll swim and leap and sing in the waves.” Hannah released her grip and stood up, balancing on the slick limb high above the ground.

  “Stop! You’ll fall. Hannah! Stop!”

  “I can’t fall! Ha! I am daughter of a Scots sea captain! Into the rigging and let the trade winds howl! O Mighty God! Ke Akua Mana E!”

  Kaiulani laughed. “You are always cheerful. It is irritating sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because life is so uncertain. Seems like you could recognize that once in a while.”

  “Auwe! What an adventure. Ask yourself.” Hannah cupped her hands around her mouth and called loudly, “What is God going to do for Princess Victoria Kaiulani today?”

  Kaiulani shouted her reply across the green lawns to the lapping waves: “I don’t want to leave Ainahau to find out.”

  Hannah sighed with contentment and began the climb back to earth. “If we don’t go to England, we’ll never know what we would have missed.”

  * * * *

  Though the SS Umatilla was scheduled to weigh anchor at noon, it was obvious from the moment Kaiulani’s carriage emerged from the Ainahau estate they would be late reaching the docks. Though the last week had been crammed with round after round of formal good-byes and visits of state, sailing day was all about the common people. They turned out in force to witness their princess’s departure. They would not be denied their right to send her off with much Aloha.

  Just as it was no ordinary day, neither did Kaiulani and Hannah journey in any ordinary conveyance. The carriage of state that had belonged to Kaiulani’s mother was pressed into service. The tall, dignified coach was freshly painted entirely bright red, from its high-backed leather seats to the spokes of the wheels. The only part of the carriage not scarlet was the oiled black cloth of the roof, and it was folded back out of sight on this brilliantly sunny occasion.

  Despite the holiday air connected with the moment, Kaiulani could not help brooding. No more than five minutes into her journey she was already homesick for Ainahau, the banyan tree, and her pet peacocks.

  Hannah dug her elbow into her friend’s side. “It’s an adventure, remember? What new thing will God show Kaiulani today?”

  The matched team of coconut-husk-hued horses stepped out smartly, but Papa Archie stopped their progress as soon as he saw the crowds. Kaiulani and Hannah had taken their usual places on the rear-facing seat at the front of the coach, but Papa made them switch places with him and Kaiulani’s half sister, Annie.

  “This is all about you, my dear,” he murmured in Kaiulani’s ear. “These are your people and you are their princess. Please try not to disappoint them.”

  “See?” Hannah added. “Some of them are crying already. Smile for them. This isn’t a funeral! Go on! Wave!”

  Dutifully Kaiulani plucked a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and fluttered it at the onlookers.

  Immediately an immense cheer broke out from thousands of throats. The word of her approach spread along the lanes with the speed of a breaker rushing ashore on Waikiki Beach. “She’s coming! The princess is coming!”

  Kaiulani forced herself to raise her chin, nodding and acknowledging the acclaim.

  “Better,” Hannah said approvingly. “I knew you could do it.”

  “Then you better wave too,” Kaiulani scolded.

  Voices from the crowd called:

  “Aloha, Princess!”

  “Come back to us soon!”

  “We have great holes in our hearts when you go away!”

  As the carriage finally pushed through the throngs and made the turn onto the approach to Honolulu Harbor, uniformed members of the Hawaiian Royal Guard were posted along the route. The soldiers made a show of flourishing “present arms” as the carriage passed.

  It was like a continuous magic trick, unfolding over and over.

  Kaiulani even forgot she was sad.

  King David had ordered the Royal band to perform for the occasion, and they were already playing on the Oceanic Wharf. The sound of trumpets and drums could be heard from quite far away, and as the distance lessened, flutes and clarinets added their softer, more fluid notes to the air.

  The only unpleasant note to the day happened when the carriage passed the two-story-high offices of the Reform Party headquarters. The railing of the second-floor veranda was lined with anti-royalist officials and office-seekers, including the pointed beard and pinched face of Lorrin Thurston.

  Two years earlier Thurston had written a new Hawaiian constitution. It was he who led the movement to force King David to accept The Bayonet Constitution, severely limiting the powers of the monarchy.

  “Don’t look at him,” Hannah said when she noticed Kaiulani’s stare. “Just a sight of him makes babies cry, dogs howl, and curdles milk!”

  Kaiulani laughed and the momentary chill she felt under Thurston’s disapproving gaze passed as quickly as it came.

  * * * *

  The huge crowds on the Oceanic Wharf were jammed closely together in the greatest outpouring of emotion Kaiulani had ever witnessed—and it was directed at her! All the onlookers seemed to be waving and swaying in unison. Aloft they held plumeria and pikake and maile leis, until the scene resembled an immense flower garden in the grip of an earthquake.

  On every side of the carriage well-wishers presented the princess with their floral tributes.

  “Don’t take any,” Hannah cautioned. “If you accept even one, they’ll all start tossing them at you. Might sink the ship!”

  The SS Umatilla was a squat vessel, looking more like a seagoing warehouse than a sleek sailing craft. It had almost no rake to stem or stern. Kaiulani, who had grown up being comfortable in, on, and under the ocean, remarked to her friend that the steamship looked to be a slow sailor.

  Formed around a single smokestack that jutted up amidships, Umatilla’s blockiness betrayed the fact she was a cargo ship first and a passenger carrier second. As if further proof were needed, cargo masts bloomed both fore and aft, and from each of these poles spouted a trio of freight booms. This trip to San Francisco would be a very different voyage from pleasure cruises around the Islands aboard King David’s yacht.

  Since it was impossible to speak and be heard, Kaiulani devoted herself to storing as many images of this moment as she could. The memories acquired today might have to support her heart through many months abroad. She felt almost desperate to gather everything possible of her homeland.

  It was not just the throngs massed around the gangplank that made the air seem thick and heavy. Honolulu Harbor deserved its designation as the Crossroads of the Pacific with all the cargo being loaded and unloaded there, each with a distinct aroma. Outgoing mountains of sugar bales and mammoth heaps of crates of pineapple for export freighted every breath with an oppressive sweetness.

  Kaiulani never regarded it this way,
but she was also smelling the wealth of the Islands. Sugar made greedy men hungry to control Hawaii’s destiny; some of them were willing to do anything to possess her.

  Across the harbor the import wharf devoted to lumber offered the tang of redwood and cedar and the piercing, turpentine-odor of pine.

  Over all the rest was the miasmic, gritty feel of coal dust. Day upon day and night after night, the steam engines of the sugar mills devoured every fragment of black fuel the clanking conveyor belts of the colliers could deliver.