thick, tropical vegetation and hid. Horrified, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia watched from his concealment as the warriors dragged his aunt out of the hut and brought her to an elevated precipice. In executing orders from the chief, they flung her over a steep pali (cliff), crashing to her death hundreds of feet below.56
Once again ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia was caught up in the rivalry of competing chiefs; once again he witnessed the violent death of a family member; once again he survived and felt responsible; once again he despaired. Mental pictures of his parents’ brutal murder and his brother’s impalement came rushing back to him with his aunt’s execution. Anger and guilt revisited. Surely he had caused the death of his aunt by escaping from the hut, just as he had his brother’s when they fled from their parents’ execution. What was the point of this unremitting life, filled with the death of loved ones that he, in his cowardly behavior, had caused? He could obtain no answers, elicit no sympathy, find no wooden bowl into which to place a stone to confess and seek forgiveness for his actions. Despair and self-recrimination assaulted his brain.
Confused, his mind raced and his body propelled him, the same as his flight from the sight of his parents’ dismemberment. ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia broke from his concealment, rushing toward the same precipice from which his aunt had been hurled, hoping to replicate her death and follow her into eternity over the same pali, the same cliff. Death would be a welcomed relief.
Two of the chief’s men saw ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia’s charge and took chase, catching up to him before he could hurl himself off the mountain. They tackled and subdued him. He cried out to be released but was held down by the strength of the warriors and the intense weight of his suffering. After overpowering him and foiling his suicide attempt, the warriors transported their captive to the chief’s quarters.57
Learning of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia’s identity and his kahuna training, the chief who ordered his aunt executed returned his sullen captive to Pahua so the young man could resume his priestly studies under the benevolent care of his uncle. Though free and back home, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia remained reclusive and contemplative, developing an inner desire that he kept to himself—a yearning to leave the islands and break the cycle of violence, to start anew and journey to some distance place—to forget.
‘Ōpūkaha‘ia wrote many years later that it was at this time in his life that he began to consider leaving Hawai‘i. “Probably I may find some comfort, more than to live there without a father or mother. I thought it better for me to go than stay.”58 He had formulated no specific plan for his exodus until serendipitously he spied the Triumph, an American merchant ship out of New Haven, Connecticut, sailing into Kealakekua Bay in 1808. The Triumph, a rather slow, but sturdy two-mast brig, constructed of strong Connecticut oak,59 dropped anchor in the bay and began loading water, food, and wood supplies, while ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia mulled over the idea of leaving the island onboard this American ship.
Should he forget this notion of abandoning his uncle and his priestly studies? If he left, where would this journey take him? Would he truly forget his personal horrors? While his mind pondered these mostly negative thoughts, he made his decision. He would go; better to do so before he was complicit in the deaths of his beloved uncle and grandmother as he had been for his brother and aunt.
Impulsively, he dove headfirst into the surfing waters, sturdily swimming against the tide toward the twin-mast sailing ship. Though he was a strong diver, his heart pounded at the thought of his impulsive plan coming closer to reality with every stroke he swam. Beside the anchored ship, he reached for the rope ladder and hoisted himself upward onto the deck. Summoning the courage to act, ‘Opūkaha‘ia looked around at the strange wind-burned European faces. He observed a Hawaiian interpreter conversing with the ship’s captain. Approaching them, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia asked to have his words translated and immediately petitioned Capt. Caleb Brintnall to take him on as a member of the crew.
Sailing out of New Haven just prior to the enforcement of the Embargo Act of 1807, the Triumph was part of the China Trade commerce of the early American Republic. The potential profits from the trading of seal furs for Chinese wares and spices were staggering for its New England investors, and worth the dangers and uncertainties of a voyage that could last two to three years. Under the watchful eye of the resourceful Capt. Brintnall, who ran a tight ship, confident investors found the risk worth taking, especially in exchange for the immense fortunes to be earned in New York City financial markets.
The Triumph carried twenty guns, including four and six-pound cannons for protection against Spanish vessels blockading foreign ships intent on poaching seals off Baja waters. Entering the Pacific Ocean via the tumultuous currents around Cape Horn, the Triumph proceeded northward toward islands off the South American and Mexican coast that offered rookeries where congregating seals could be easily procured. Leaving a small crew behind to manage the dirty work of killing, skinning, and processing fur on islands off Baja California, Brintnall headed west to Hawai‘i to replenish the ship’s provisions.60
Arriving first in Honolulu, Capt. Brintnall received permission from Kamehameha to trade and take on Hawaiian males as additional crew for their return trip to the Baja sealers. Now anchored in Kealakekua Bay, Brintnall looked over the young teenage ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia and felt he would fit the bill, possibly making a good seaman as Polynesians were known to be. Nevertheless, Brintnall was also cautious, wanting no trouble with the Hawaiians. Permission would have to be granted from the boy’s family. When told by the interpreter that the boy’s parents were dead and he was the nephew of an important kahuna, Brintnall invited ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia to have dinner and spend the night onboard ship but would make no abrupt decision.
Onboard the Triumph was another young Hawaiian named Nauhopo‘ouah Ho‘opo‘o (Hopu), called Thomas by the American sailors. Born in 1795, Hopu was nine years old when his mother died. His father taught him the traditional ways of Hawaiian culture, but also instilled in the young boy that today’s magic comes from the haole and all their iron, nails, knives, and guns. Always keep Hawaiian ways in your heart, Hopu would be taught, but acquire the new practices, for tomorrow’s success and continued existence will come by knowing the customs of the light-skinned haoles. Accordingly, when the Triumph arrived, Hopu’s father gave permission for his son to go aboard and travel with Brintnall; he could be educated and learn the secrets of their valuable technology.61
Brintnall kept his eye on ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia throughout supper. He noticed how the young “heathen” seemed to pick up Western gestures and comportment of consuming food at the officer’s table. Though ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia could little understand what was being spoken among the officers, his gift of mimicry allowed him to follow their behaviors and copy their table mannerisms. In his handling of a fork and knife, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia was deemed a quick learner. Brintnall asked the young Native if he would like to go to America, become a luina kelemania e, a sailor, on their ship. Once he understood, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia replied with a positive nod of his head and was overjoyed.
After spending the night onboard the Triumph, ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia was informed that he would need his uncle’s permission before he could accompany the crew on their voyage. So the young Hawaiian returned to shore seeking Pahua’s acquiescence to leave the island. When they met, his uncle questioned ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia as to his overnight whereabouts. His nephew told the kahuna pule that he had spent the evening onboard the ship, and furthermore, Capt. Brintnall had invited him to join the crew and sail with them; he very much wished to do so.
Pahua flew into a rage. How ungrateful was this child after the gods had twice spared his life? He and his grandmother had been sick with worry when ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia did not return in the evening, and now he wanted to leave his family entirely, leave the island, leave the heiau and leave his studies? No, he was saved to serve the akuas and that was exactly what he would do! Angrily, Pahua forced ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia
