to make a good appearance of his predicament? Whatever his motives, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia was now free to live with his uncle and train to be a kahuna, maybe even take his place as the praying priest at the Heiau Hikiau.
Under Pahua’s mentorship, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia matured into a bright and resourceful young man. Beginning his apprenticeship as a kahuna, Pahua trained him hard, demanding long tedious hours commencing at sunrise and continuing throughout the day, well into the late night. ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia strained to learn and memorize long litanies; repeating them daily at the heiau, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia prayed for the life and happiness of the chiefs, for their safeguard from enemies, for beneficial weather and productive crops, for protection and appeasement of the akuas to prevent volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, and earthquakes. He was intelligent and quickly learned the extensive prayers and associated rituals to uphold kapu and to forgive violators. He committed to memory thousands of verses that were part of the significant oral histories of the Hawaiians, including Kumulipo, the Hawai‘i creation chants. Though the long hours and intense study commanded his attention and brought on exhaustion, during the evening, thoughts of his family’s deaths still haunted him into the night until welcomed sleep approached. Beginning a new life under Pahua’s protection and Hina’s guidance, ‘Opūkaha‘ia was being groomed to be a person of great magnitude among his people. Nonetheless, his soul remained anguished.
His seminary was the Heiau Hikiau in Nāpo‘opo‘o, by now an international deep-water seaport. Hikiau is translated as “moving current” which graphically describes the heiau’s location along the lower edge of an ancient surfing beach at the inner, easternmost recess of Kealakekua Bay. Heiaus were special places of reverence. All Hawaiians lived to honor the gods and frequently had a small heiau, usually an altar or shrine in which to worship daily, within their houses. Formalized, larger heiaus, where ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia studied and institutionalized priests held ceremonies while praying for the needs of the chiefs and their people, consisted of wooden-fenced enclosures upon large stone platforms containing several houses, including massive open-air temples on top of the extensive stone podiums. Multiple carved wooden idols, akua ki‘i who stood upright sporting grimaced faces, required appeasement. Only the chiefs, nobles, and priesthood could enter these large stone platform heiaus of the luakini-style, designated for human sacrifice. Maka‘āinana were restricted by fear of death.52
The dichotomies of peace and war as well as conformity and conflict were a part of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia’s preparation. He became knowledgeable in the manner to pray, serve at rituals, and carve wood to symbolize religious icons. His entire existence was encompassed into a pantheon of akuas, spirits and other supernatural beings residing in the woods, amid volcanic boulders, in the ocean and onshore, entering into all animate and inanimate objects. There was no distinction between the natural and supernatural worlds. They were one and the same. ‘Opūkaha‘ia was trained to become the vehicle for maintaining the proper relations between these spirits and the people, the mediator between the gods and the Kanakas Maoli, maybe even becoming a kahuna nui at Hikiau, and presiding over all aspects of their Native religion behind the sacred wooden enclosures.
Adjacent to his seminary and along the shore, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia constructed a small, personal heiau he named, Helehelekalani. Within, he built three small shrines to Lono, Kū, and Laka, the god of the hula.53 Pahua was proud of his nephew, but he may have worried that being away from the secured enclosure on top of the heiau would bring ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia in closer proximity to the seafaring haole (foreigners), with their irreverent behaviors and disregard for kapu, posing a threat to all existence.
For more than twenty years, my right hand man on archaeological field expeditions was David G. Cooke from Rocky Hill, Connecticut. Although an amateur, Dave had a passion for history and archaeology that could not have been surpassed by any academically trained anthropologist. A retired machinist by trade, Dave was meticulous in recording data, and he remains simply the best field technician I ever worked alongside. He would be with me for the disinterment of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia and was especially valuable in the systematic removal of the stone monument weighing above the burial and in organizing the volunteer field crew.
In the late spring of 1993, Dave, along with volunteers, Richard (Dick) LaRose and Gary Hottin, both avocational archaeologists, and William (Bill) Keegan, an undergraduate student of mine from the University of Connecticut, were assisting in the mitigation of sites associated with the 19th century Enfield Shaker’s farming community. Lego, manufacturer of the popular plastic building blocks, was planning expansion of its offices and warehouse immediately adjacent to the Shaker South Family Farm; as state archaeologist I had raised concerns for the necessity of an archaeological survey to ensure that construction activities would have no adverse effect on any significant cultural resources associated with this National Register of Historic Places property.54 The five of us where in the field salvaging a mid-19th century Shaker refuse deposit when I casually mentioned the ‘“Opūkaha‘ia Project.”
Dave consulted with a friend who serendipitously had purchased an 1819 first edition of Edwin Dwight’s “Memoirs of Henry Obookiah” at an antique bookstore days before. Passed from hand-to-hand, the narrative would inspire all of us with the true significance of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia’s life and death, furnishing a much better understanding of the roles we were about to assume.
Our excavation plan provided for a systematic removal of stone and soil deep enough to expose whatever remains of Henry ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia were still preserved in the ground. The excavation unit was limited to a narrow forty-six inches wide by ninety-six inches long rectangle directly underneath the stone table so as to avoid the possibility of encountering other human remains, which may reside in adjacent unmarked burial plots. We anticipated evidence of soil disturbance from the original digging and refilling of the grave shaft and of encountering ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia anywhere between four and six feet below surface.55 Considering the Cornwall Cemetery Association’s concerns that even with the stone table in place the exact location of Henry’s remains was unknown, we were prepared to record biological characteristics of the skeleton in situ to determine whether the remains were that of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia prior to repatriation. To assist in the osteological analysis, we invited Dr. Michael Park, physical anthropology professor at Central Connecticut State University and my first instructor in the forensic aspects of the human skeleton, to participate in the field, expediting identification and later to serve in the laboratory, providing a more thorough analysis.
With the field team assembled, we selected July 12, 1993, to commence the exhumation of Henry ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia. Dave Cooke would oversee the archaeological operation; Bill Keegan would be the project photographer; Dick LaRose and Gary Hottin would assist in screening soils, recording of data, and other excavation logistics; Mike Park would be prepared to examine any skeletal remains recovered, and Will Trowbridge, a local stone mason, would assist in the removal of the raised granite table and be responsible for its restoration after the disinterment was complete. Also joining us was the Rev. Carmen Wooster, United Church of Christ, who represented the Lee family, David A. Poirier, staff archaeologist at the State Historic Preservation Office, and Jeffrey Bendremer and Shelley Smith, graduate students in the Department of Anthropology at UConn. All equipment and personnel were on site early that July morning, which was forecast to be hot and humid with the possibility of thundershowers in the afternoon.
It was probably through his uncle that ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia would learn of an aunt, the sole surviving sister of his father, living nearby. Granted a break from his studies at the heiau, he travelled to her village, renewing their relationship. Regrettably, his aunt had angered a local chief by committing an infraction of the kapu, so when the chief sent his warriors to apprehend her, they discovered ‘Opūkaha‘ia. Both were seized and incarcerated in a guarded hut while the chief decided what to do with them. Overhearing the conversation of two sentries that he and his
