Moloka’i is a quiet old soul.

The morning silence pierces you and opens you up as you breathe in gentle whispers of aloha. Bringing Hōkūle’a to one of her homes on Moloka’i, the crew felt such a privilege knowing that this had been a journey made through generations. The echoes of our ancestors were carried by the wind as we crossed the Kaiwi channel. In Kaunakakai, it seemed Hōkūle’a was at rest. The embrace was so overwhelming we did not have enough room to receive it. The children of the land possess the language of this soul. This language made us feel like ‘Ohana. It can only be described as Aloha ‘Āina. This Aloha, this mana, comes up from the land, from the ocean, and dwells in all those who come from it. On Moloka’i, the words of one of it’s children, George Helm Jr. rings true, “Man is merely the caretaker of the land that maintains his life and nourishes his soul. Therefore, the ʻāina is sacred.”

On one of our huaka’i, the crew were able to visit Halawa on the East end of Moloka’i. It seemed that we drove right into the heart of it as we traveled beyond winding roads, beyond the sight of Ohana that waved us on as we passed. It felt as if all elements of nature came together to meet in harmony here. I imagined our ancestors settling in this place and you acknowledge that this land was here before us, it will be here after us, we cannot possess it no matter how hard we try. We are just a small chapter in the life of this land. The walk into Halawa valley was a walk in the past. Everything had a purpose. Everything worked with one another to sustain life. It was humbling to see how amazing our kupuna were in creating a life of harmony. When we got to Mo’o’ula we hardly shared words. There was much unspoken in a place so untouched. It was truly an awe and respect for nature that I felt we all shared in heart and mind. We enjoyed ourselves, and quietly made our way out before nightfall. As a crew, we knew that learning the mo’olelo of places like these are so important to voyaging. Carrying these stories with us home. More importantly, carrying a story together as an ‘Ohana.