Island Magic: Stories, Experiences and
Observations
Seven Sacred Pools
©
2007 - 2008 Gilbert Belmudez
(Note: Regard
this
true story as a rough draft. I am
writing it from a few notes and a lot of memory. If
there are some inaccuracies in Hawaiian
spelling, geographical description, legend, custom or any other
details, feel
free to contact me with corrections and opinion. Critique
is more than welcome.)
The next day at Wai'a'napanapa I was hanging my damp
sleeping bag to dry in
the morning sun when the camper I had met approached me
with a cup of coffee. It was a welcome
treat. We talked for a while as I sipped from the steaming cup and he asked if I was ready for my
first Maui breakfast experience. I gave him a puzzled look.
He turned and pointed to a long bamboo pole
that lay on the ground a short distance away. “Looks
like you might as well learn how to get
yourself a papaya” he
said and pointed up at some fruit hanging from a fairly tall papaya
tree. “That big red one right there is
ripe and
ready to eat”.
I
took the bamboo and reached up just enough to hit
the lowest papaya at the stem. It broke
away cleanly and my friend caught it before it hit the ground. He explained this was a variety some called a
strawberry papaya. He also mentioned
that some people consume the seeds for their concentration of vitamin
B. Supposedly, this eventually helps ward
off
mosquitoes. I've got to say that
compared to the large mosquito of the San
Joaquin Valley
in Central
California, the
“cousins” in Hawaii
seemed as big as hummingbirds and the bites could leave welts the size
of a
silver dollar. I don't know about the
papaya seed remedy as I didn't really see an instant improvement but I
can say that
with time one seems to acclimate to various physical discomforts. Mosquito bites do seem to get more tolerable.
The
strawberry papaya was delicious and satisfied my
hunger. Once again I needed to get my
bearings and someone suggested I continue in the same direction if I
wanted to
see some beautiful waterfalls. If I
started out early enough, I shouldn't have a problem getting picked up
by
someone driving in the same direction. I
gathered my few belongings, walked up to Hana Highway and retraced my
steps back to Hana
Airport. There I picked up the heavier duffle bag I had
left
behind the day
before.
The
walk back up to Hana
Highway from the airport was the
hardest with duffle bag and sleeping bag in hand. I
was exhausted and drenched with
perspiration by time I got the highway. I've
got to mention the word “highway” is misleading
since it was just a
two lane road with no curb, gutter or walkway. Once
on the side of the road I sat on a large
boulder and stuck my thumb
out. I can't really remember how many
vehicles passed but eventually a little old pickup pulled to the side
and
stopped. “Just throw your things in back
and hop in”, I heard the driver say. I
had to look twice because he looked like a real South American Indian. He looked like a Peruvian Indian and I was a
bit confused to say the least. What
could I say? If I made it here why
couldn't he? It was just that he looked
fresh out of the Andes
Mountains
with one of
those tall and round traditional hats, two long braids and a chaleco
that
covered his shoulders with colorful geometric designs.
Now that I think of it, I probably had him
wondering. I was standing in huarache
sandals and carrying a sleeping bag wrapped in a Mexican serape.
As
we moved along the Highway at an unhurried pace he
confirmed my suspicions about his roots and explained that a number of
people
from Peru
visit the islands but as far as he knew, he was the only true
Indigenous
Peruvian. “We are to poor to travel
anywhere” he said but in his case and against all odds he had a dream
that he
worked hard enough on to fulfill and moved here a number of years
before.
“Where
are you going?” he asked and I told him that I
needed to find a place where I could camp and maybe get a job. “You're going in the wrong direction for
work”, he said and then continued, “but there's some good camping areas
where
I'm going.” He told me he was meeting
some friends by an area called Seven Sacred Pools and that on the way
we would
stop at Hasegawa’s Store. I was informed
that I could get some food and supplies there because our destination
was about
twenty miles down the road and Hasegawa’s was the last available stop.
It
wasn't long before we arrived in Hana Town
which I would really describe as a sleepy village if it were not for
all the
tourist vehicles that roamed the area. The
area is beautiful and looks like a planned botanical garden. The ocean was not far from where we parked
and there was a bay that I could barely see. Hasegawa’s
was busy and it was the first time I had
seen so many people
since I had arrived on the island. I
walked around and got canned goods, mosquito repellent, candles,
matches, soap
and a six pack of sodas. I also found
some nylon rope and a huge plastic tarp. These
two things alone were the best investment I
could make for the
days to come. I wasn't sure how I would
carry the extras once we got to the pools but I figured that one way or
another
I would manage.
We
got on the road again in no time were traveling
along a few pastures that then lead to more dense overgrowth. At times there were faces of rock out of which
flowed occasional trickles of water that formed into miniature
waterfalls. The Indian explained that
there were houses
in the area but often secluded. Sometimes
all you would see was an address marker or a mailbox.
We
finally came to a narrow bridge that crossed about
45 feet over a good sized torrent of water that cascaded down a wall of
rock
and continued further down toward the visible ocean.
Along the way were two or three more pools,
each at a lower level than the other. Each
fed by another waterfall. On
the mountain side of the bridge was the same source of fresh water
pouring down
from other waterfalls at higher elevations.
“Were
here” he said. “I’ll drop you off by the
camp ground parking lot. There is plenty
of space and you don't need a
permit because this is run by the Federal Forestry Service. Don't stay in the same spot for over three
days and they won't bother you. Try not
to drink water from the stream because cattle cross the water upstream. There are a couple of water faucets that work
and give good water. The outhouses are
in good shape. Try to find some dry wood
and cover it so that you can make a campfire. You
can use some of those trees nearby to fix
yourself some shelter with
the rope and tarp that you bought. Its
going
to rain and you'll need that to stay dry.” He
made me feel a little more secure but it was a
lot of advice to take
in all at once.
We
pulled into a small parking lot and I unloaded my
things. “Well, I got to go” the Peruvian
said and then bid me “Adios” as he drove off. I
sat on a low railing that bordered an expansive
stretch of green turf. It stretched to the
edge of thirty foot
bluffs overlooking sparkling blue ocean waters. You
could hear the rumble of waves crashing into the
lava rock faces and
an occasional white spray of salt water would splash up into the air. Although natural, the grass looked “tended”
because it grew low to the ground. Nature
had manicured it to the likeness of a golf
course. There were three or four tents
pitched in the
area and here and there were the signs of campsites already taken down. All that was left were a few smoke blackened
stones that had been used to shelter campfires from the wind. Not far but closer to the ocean I saw a
couple of small almost leafless trees that were about ten feet apart. This gave me an idea.
I
grabbed a few of my things and moved them to the
base of one of the trees. I then went
back and got the remainder of my supplies. I
pulled out one of the nylon ropes and tied it
tight from tree to
tree. I then took the plastic tarp and
hung it over. With a little time and
ingenuity I stretched the tarp out into the shape of a simple tent. With the use of a few discarded pieces of
wood that lay nearby, it was easy to anchor the bottom corners into the
soft
earth. Great! I
finally had a shelter of my own! The sun
was bright and warm. I took the
opportunity to lay out my damp
belongings so that they could dry properly and then lay under the tarp
and
quickly fell asleep.
*
*
*
Originally,
Seven Sacred Pools was known to the
Hawaiians as O’he’o. The waterfalls that
cascade down from high up above are breathtaking. I
don't think very many people have ever seen
all the waterfalls since the terrain gets harder and harder to climb. Some areas are almost impossible and I would
strongly advise against it unless one is experienced and has planned it
out
with permission. I spent enough time in
the area to see things that one might miss unless you take the time to
learn. For instance, in the pastures
close to the camping area one might see a couple of stone towers long
ago abandoned. I've heard that cattle were
once transported
across ravines with the use of a rope and pulley system that were
anchored at
either end of these towers.
I've
swam the stream above some of the lower
waterfalls in areas where you simply had to put your trust in that
there was
nothing in the darkened waters that would pull you down.
Especially, when the area you were swimming
through was bordered by high faces of rock that offered no secure
footing. You would simply have to keep
swimming,
sometimes around a “blind” bend, until another pool would appear up
ahead with
a beach side that would allow one to climb out of the water. It was at one such area that I actually
experienced the beauty of a sheet of water cascading in front of a
huge,
shallow cave one could easily sit in.
There
is a small bamboo forest somewhere beyond and
deeper into the mountain that is mesmerizing. Only
once did I ever see it but it is a memory never
to be forgotten. So tall that you
can't really see the tops
and in the quiet there is the soft sound of music as the bamboo rattles
together in the breeze. It is melodious
but one word of caution. Don't walk into
a dense bamboo growth. It only takes a
few feet into the bamboo to possibly get disoriented and lose direction
and the
confusion of getting lost in such a dense maze can be fatal.
I
spent about a week in the area and ate a lot of
papaya and mango. Without a proper tent
the nights were wet and uncomfortable but the beauty and experience
unforgettable. It was my induction to
the island
of Maui and one I
will never forget. Comments
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