It was barely 7:00 a.m. and already an excited crowd was forming along the sidewalks fronting ʻIolani Palace in downtown Honolulu. The clear skies and bright sun signaled a very sunny Saturday – a perfect day for the annual King Kamehameha Celebration Floral Parade.
As parade-goers sought their perfect parade- viewing vantage point, inside the palace grounds within the ʻIolani Barracks – which once housed the Hawaiian Kingdom’s Royal Guard – 12 kāne were reverently preparing to represent Kamehameha I and his warriors in the parade.
Of any role in the parade, this is the greatest honor and kuleana. And this year, unlike in years past, the attire they donned for the parade took Hawaiian artistry and authenticity to a whole new level.
Ocean Kaowili has been actively involved with the Kamehameha Day parade for about 45 years – and for more than 20 of those years he has been responsible for the dressing and placement of the warriors on the parade’s “Mōʻī” or “King” float.
In previous years, the warriors’ parade attire was fashioned from modern synthetic fabrics and materials. This year, however, the warriors were resplendent in feathered ʻahu ʻula (cloaks) and mahiole (helmets) fashioned by, and under the guidance of, Kumu Hulu Nui Rick San Nicolas, a noted master of traditional featherwork.
“I participated in Kumu Rick’s feather workshop over a year ago, and while I was in that workshop I was inspired to have a conversation with him,” Kaowili recalled.
Knowing that the synthetic cloaks worn in the parade for so many years were in disrepair, Kaowili and San Nicolas began to talk about using authentic ʻahu ʻula and mahiole to dress the men on the parade’s Mōʻī float.
San Nicolas began learning the art of feather lei-making in 1999. As a self-taught practitioner, he researched the ancient art form, frequently referring to a book called Feather Lei as an Art, written by renowned mother and daughter feather lei-making experts the late Mary Louise Kekuewa and Paulette Nohealani Kahalepuna.
Their dedication and knowledge were instrumental in helping San Nicolas perpetuate the art form. “Featherwork is the most important art form in Hawaiʻi because it represented the aliʻi,” San Nicolas said.
Traditionally, feather cloaks were reserved for Hawaiʻi’s chiefly class and were symbols of the utmost ranking. The cloaks were constructed from harvesting the feathers of native birds such as ʻiʻiwi, ʻapapane, mamo, and ʻōʻō, then bundling the feathers and tying them onto netting.
The birds were not killed for their vibrant plumage. They were captured by kia manu, specialized bird catchers, who would release them back into the forest after plucking just a few feathers.
Due to the highly endangered status of the few surviving species of native Hawaiian birds, their feathers are no longer used. Today, San Nicolas ethically sources feathers from Chinese golden pheasants and Lady Amherst pheasants to craft ʻahu ʻula and mahiole.
Inside the ʻIolani Barracks, each warrior waited to be called to be individually dressed by San Nicolas and Kaowili. As each kāne stood proudly, they were garbed in ʻahu ʻula – and some in mahiole – the sacred symbols of Hawaiʻi’s ruling chiefs.
Each individual ʻahu ʻula and mahiole is a masterpiece that requires hours of work.
“It probably takes around 150 hours – and that’s after all the prep work – to create an ʻahu ʻula,” San Nicolas said. “The feather helmets – once I do the feathering – I can finish in a week’s time, but that’s working up to 18 hours a day,” he added.
“A lot goes into the process [but] it’s what I love to do.”
Six of the ʻahu ʻula used in the parade were borrowed from the Hawaiʻi Convention Center. Following the parade, they were returned to their displays.
San Nicolas hopes that since they have established a precedent for having real ʻahu ʻula on the King’s float, parade organizers will not go back to using imitation cloaks.
“The biggest part of this was getting the public to see [them] in person, out in the open, to see the ʻahu ʻula in the sunlight,” San Nicolas said. “And my words to the warriors before we walked out was ‘remember what this is for. You are representing our history, our past, our aliʻi.’”
“Ka wela o ka ua” is an idiom in Mary Kawena Pukui’s book, ʻŌlelo Noʻeau: Hawaiian Proverbs and Poetical Sayings. Translated it means “rain heated by the sun” – a reference to the warrior chiefs bedecked in feathered ʻahu ʻula and mahiole resembling rainbows.
When the warriors were finally dressed, they stood quietly in formation inside ʻIolani Barracks to receive a ceremonial blessing and a reminder of their kuleana.
Every year, Kaowili said that he tries to leave the kāne with words to inspire them. This year he quoted King Kamehameha. Addressing the men he said, “I mua e nā pokiʻi, a inu i ka wai ʻawaʻawa. ʻAʻohe hope e hoʻi mai ai” – Forward my younger brothers and drink of the bitter water (of battle). There is no hope of retreat.
“In other words, he’s saying he is one of them, that we’re all brothers, all ʻohana,” Kaowili told the men.
“Although at the time, he was using those words to lead his warriors into battle, I use those same words to lead all of us into the future,” Kaowili said. “If you think about the symbolism of going into battle, the intent is the future – because at the end of the battle there is something else to move forward to.”
