04-18-2025, 04:08 PM
. Overwhelmed by the natural beauty and archeological significance of the undisturbed remains of a post-contact Polynesian society on the land adjacent to the Pohoiki boat ramp, our County Council voted unanimously to purchase this 26.7-acre parcel in 2015. So what's become of this precious treasure entrusted to our Public Access, Open Space & Natural Resource Preservation commissioners?
Following a map drawn in blood discovered on a crumbling parchment PDF file archived in the cavernous Department of Finance computer vaults, I went in search of this lost neo-antediluvian civilization. Staving off swarms of infectious mosquitos, venomous spiders, poisonous ants, restless natives and ravenous velociraptors, I journeyed into this fabled land -- compass in hand -- to take a look for myself. And what did I find?
A near impregnable grove of indigenous trees nobly fending off an assault by highly invasive weeds, however futilely. The last remnants of a century-old agricultural area being upturned by massive, earth-moving roots and rototilled by marauding pigs. Swaths of bulldozed jungle overgrown with intrusive plants. One barely discernable archeological feature that warrants preservation status. An inexplicable, recently built rock wall spanning State and County Coastal Management Zone property that delineates nothing. A few dozen newly planted hala trees and a sprouted-coconut-lined promenade on the volcanic debris that's scheduled to be excavated. A complex maze of sport utility vehicle trails where cultural practitioners and County water safety officers demonstrate the ancient Hawaiian sport of dune scrambling. The world's loneliest lifeguard stand. A huge state-owned beach where non-motorized vessels can be launched on any calm day that's nearly inaccessible. The snappy waves at Third Bay firing better than ever. And a sign that reads: NO FISHING / NO SWIMMING / NO TRESPASSING / GO HOME posted on land purchased with PONC funds.
What I find most disturbing is that absolutely nobody even knows where the boundary lines of this property are! One thing a DLNR officer did ascertain, though, is that the rock barrier that prevents County lifeguards from launching emergency rescue vessels at Third Bay was built illegally across State and County property.
Hawaii County property owners did, however, employ kupunas to train acolytes to be stewards of this once thriving fishing community back in 2023. Since they never filed the contractually required progress reports, I'm not sure just what that involved, but it seems to have included a bunch of dancing, chanting, and pagan god worship. Kind of like a college fraternity. And good luck on finding that All Terrain Vehicle these heathens purchased with the $15,000 Operational Equipment account.
So what do the PONC commissioners think about the Pohoiki cultural stewardship program they fund? Heck if I know. None of the correspondence I send in asking them ever gets past the Finance Department gatekeepers and on their agenda.
Following a map drawn in blood discovered on a crumbling parchment PDF file archived in the cavernous Department of Finance computer vaults, I went in search of this lost neo-antediluvian civilization. Staving off swarms of infectious mosquitos, venomous spiders, poisonous ants, restless natives and ravenous velociraptors, I journeyed into this fabled land -- compass in hand -- to take a look for myself. And what did I find?
A near impregnable grove of indigenous trees nobly fending off an assault by highly invasive weeds, however futilely. The last remnants of a century-old agricultural area being upturned by massive, earth-moving roots and rototilled by marauding pigs. Swaths of bulldozed jungle overgrown with intrusive plants. One barely discernable archeological feature that warrants preservation status. An inexplicable, recently built rock wall spanning State and County Coastal Management Zone property that delineates nothing. A few dozen newly planted hala trees and a sprouted-coconut-lined promenade on the volcanic debris that's scheduled to be excavated. A complex maze of sport utility vehicle trails where cultural practitioners and County water safety officers demonstrate the ancient Hawaiian sport of dune scrambling. The world's loneliest lifeguard stand. A huge state-owned beach where non-motorized vessels can be launched on any calm day that's nearly inaccessible. The snappy waves at Third Bay firing better than ever. And a sign that reads: NO FISHING / NO SWIMMING / NO TRESPASSING / GO HOME posted on land purchased with PONC funds.
What I find most disturbing is that absolutely nobody even knows where the boundary lines of this property are! One thing a DLNR officer did ascertain, though, is that the rock barrier that prevents County lifeguards from launching emergency rescue vessels at Third Bay was built illegally across State and County property.
Hawaii County property owners did, however, employ kupunas to train acolytes to be stewards of this once thriving fishing community back in 2023. Since they never filed the contractually required progress reports, I'm not sure just what that involved, but it seems to have included a bunch of dancing, chanting, and pagan god worship. Kind of like a college fraternity. And good luck on finding that All Terrain Vehicle these heathens purchased with the $15,000 Operational Equipment account.
So what do the PONC commissioners think about the Pohoiki cultural stewardship program they fund? Heck if I know. None of the correspondence I send in asking them ever gets past the Finance Department gatekeepers and on their agenda.
