Read this article in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi
By J. Hauʻoli Lorenzo-Elarco
With the honor of the ancestral islands, greetings of aloha to each of you from Haʻehaʻe on Hawaiʻi Island to Hiʻolani on Hōlanikū (Kure Atoll). As a representative of the Papahānaumokuākea Native Hawaiian Cultural Working Group (CWG), I humbly offer a bundle of limu to each of you, as a reminder of the delicacies of the Hawaiian language throughout our entire archipelago.
In 1917, it was printed in the Hawaiian language newspaper Ka Puuhonua o na Hawaii that, “I ikeia no ke kanaka no kekahi lahui ma kana olelo…” (One is identified as belonging to a particular people by their language…). In this way, a people may also be seen as belonging to a certain place through the language used to describe it. This includes names, poetry, and proverbial sayings. Language has been used both as a tool and a weapon to honor, claim, erase, and rewrite the history of a space.
Focusing on names for spaces and species, this article illuminates two of the many ways a thriving Hawaiian language has mapped and memorialized land and ocean in the region of the Hawaiian archipelago known as Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument (PMNM).
About Papahānaumokuākea
PMNM is one of the largest marine protected areas on the planet, spanning 582,578 mi², comprising ¾ of the archipelago and the entirety of the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. The area is home to several marine and terrestrial species, many endemic.
Affectionately referred to as the Kupuna Islands, PMNM is historically, culturally, politically, and spiritually important to Kānaka. Despite its size and importance, the islands and atolls within Papahānaumokuākea were nearly forgotten under forced amnesia due to the colonial project that supplanted traditional place names and narratives with non-native ones.
Island Names
Hawaiian Archipelago Map – PDF Format
Generally, one might know that there are eight “main” Hawaiian Islands (MHI). Almost 3,000 miles away from Hawaiʻi, the landlocked city of Las Vegas is often cited as the ninth island. Some also point to Washington State as the tenth island. These foreign places receive such designations based on the large number of Native Hawaiians now living there in diaspora.
Though terms like this are seemingly an innocent act of placemaking, these ideas actively work to erase from human consciousness the many other islands that comprise the Hawaiian archipelago, such as Paokalani, Mokupuku, Molokini, Mokoliʻi, Popoiʻa, Mānana, Kāohikaipu, Mokulua, Mokuʻauia, Mōkapu, ʻŌkala, Huelo, Lehua, Kaʻula, and others. Though these places can be easily seen from the MHI, contemporary society does not count them as standalone entities but extensions of the larger, human-inhabited islands, grouped within imaginary county boundary lines.
Nonetheless, we know these are storied Hawaiian places because we can physically see them, and we possess historical language that describes them. But, with erosion, sea-level rise, and climate change, what will happen to our memory of the rarely seen or spoken of islands and atolls of Papahānaumokuākea when they reach the end of their life cycle and fully return to the ocean?
There are 10 islands and atolls within Papahānaumokuākea. Starting closest to the MHI, some may be vaguely familiar with Nīhoa and Mokumanamana (Necker Island). These islands retain their identity as Hawaiian places simply through names that recall stories of primordial deities, voyaging chiefs, and ritual worship.
Moving northwest, the identity of the islands noticeably shifts, with Hawaiian histories completely washed over by foreign names. To date, there have been two important efforts to recover the Hawaiian identity of these elder islands.
First, in the 1990s, the Hawaiian Lexicon Committee developed names for each island. Secondly, several years later, Dr. Kekuewa Kikiloi (CWG co-chair) returned lost traditional names to these islands by matching their physical characteristics to an 1835 written composition by a Lahainaluna Seminary student named Kaiaikawaha, who described the islands of the Hawaiian archipelago.
The islands and atolls of Papahānaumokuākea – except for Nīhoa and Mokumanamana – now hold at least three names: two Hawaiian and one foreign (see map). Today, these names are used interchangeably. Excitingly, there is a conscious shift away from the English epithets to the Hawaiian ones.
Nā Inoa Mea Ola
The Hawaiian language also thrives in Papahānaumokuākea through species names. Seabirds reign in the millions within PMNM. Hawaiian bird names are often onomatopoeic, named for the sounds they make. It is in Papahānaumokuākea that one can hear the courtship song of the mōlī, the cawing of the ʻaoʻū, and the chattering of the ʻuaʻu. But, for a handful of species that inhabit this place, Hawaiian names have been lost to time or never given.
The Nomenclature Hui, a subcommittee of the CWG is tasked with investigating the names of spaces and species within Papahānaumokuākea. Leaning on archival materials and ancestral naming practices, the committee researches, repatriates, and develops names. Thus far, the hui has given 74 names to fish, seaweeds, corals, plants, and birds of PMNM.
New names for newly discovered species are not just created through a committee structure. With the power of technology, we now bring Papahānaumokuākea to the people through video conferencing. For one such event, the author partnered with the Ocean Exploration Trust, conducting research in Papahānaumokuākea, to bring live footage of PMNM to a Hawaiian immersion kindergarten class at Pūʻōhala School.
During this interaction, I shared a video of a dark, balloon-like creature floating motionless above the deep seafloor of Papahānaumokuākea. Suddenly, it shook and twirled, opening its extremely large mouth and expelling water that bloated its cheeks. From its circular form, the creature slimmed to a slender-shaped eel and swam away. The school children burst with excitement for this transforming organism known as a gulper eel.
Its large mouth and extra cheek skin allow it to hold large volumes of water, vastly increasing its size as a defensive mechanism. This eel has no known traditional Hawaiian name. But, when I asked the Hawaiian-speaking children for the name of this creature, they immediately shouted in near unison, “he puhi waha nui” (a large-mouth eel). Thus, born was the Hawaiian name for the gulper eel.
A Living Language, Culture, Place and People
Papahānaumokuākea is a living, breathing realm worthy of protection, and our language reminds us we belong to this place and are bound to its currents and wildlife. As continued acts of Hawaiian language and culture revitalization, many members of the CWG actively engage in tending of this place through speaking old names and developing new ones, researching archives, tides, and seasonal changes, surveying spaces, removing debris, crafting songs, producing proverbs, and building curricula, all through the medium of Hawaiian.
Like the puhi waha nui that excites the next generation, we hope this work helps shape our understanding of Papahānaumokuākea away from mere forgotten islands of the Pacific to a sacred space, wildlife sanctuary, interactive classroom, and living language lab that prioritizes Hawaiian as a living language, culture, place, and people.
Hauʻoli Lorenzo-Elarco is a member of the Papahānaumokuākea Native Hawaiian Cultural Working Group, and chair of the Nomenclature Hui Subcommittee.
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