The Long Journeys Home. Nick Bellantoni

sky. He was the son of Keōua and the grandson of Keaweikekahia-liikamoku, a former ruler of the eastern portion of the Big Island. Upon his birth, a kahuna of standing prophesized that one day this newborn would become a Mō‘ī, Ali‘i Nui (King, holding the highest of chiefly ranks) of the entire island.²⁴

      Since his family kept him isolated in the mountains during his youth out of fear that jealous chiefs might take his life, and due to his introspective behavior, Kamehameha was labeled “The Lonely One.” His uncle, Kalani‘ōpu‘u, Mō‘ī of the Big Island, who welcomed Captain Cook to Kealakekua Bay, brought Kamehameha back from exile and bestowed upon him the trademarks of a nobleman with a feathered helmet and cloak. The young man grew in strength and wisdom, was tutored in the arts of combat, and known for his courage in battle.

      In traditional Hawaiian society, whenever an ali‘i nui died, his successor had the right to redistribute land and other valued resources, which meant that competitive conflict would breakout between contenders for vacated, exalted positions. When Kalani‘ōpu‘u died in 1782, Kamehameha competed with the ali‘i nui’s two natural sons, Kīwala‘ō and Keōua, over control of the chiefdom. Kīwala‘ō attempted to placate Kamehameha by naming him the caretaker of the war god, Kū, and making him the chief of the luscious and productive Waipi‘o Valley. Unfortunately, this did not satiate the ambitious Kamehameha. Warfare broke out between the cousins. Kīwala‘ō was killed at the Battle of Moku‘ōhai, and Keōua was declared the new High Chief.²⁵

      With the advantage of muskets, swords, and cannon obtained from European and American trading partners, Kamehameha warred continually with Keōua for four years. Yet the steel weapons gave no immediate benefit against the aggressive son-chief who had a large following. Feigning a desire to end the continual conflict, Kamehameha invited the suspicious Keōua to a peace parlay in early 1792, which the High Chief, whose resources were being exhausted by the incessant warfare, cautiously accepted. When Keōua came ashore at Kawaihae Harbor north of Kona, Kamehameha’s warriors assassinated him and his men, sacrificing his corpse to Kū in a newly constructed and massive luakini-type heiau.²⁶ Kamehameha forthwith possessed Keōua’s powerful mana and was deemed the outright Mō‘ī of the Island of Hawai‘i. Now middle-aged and with both Kiwala‘ō and Keōua dead, Kamehameha coveted additional islands under his personal chiefdom. We call the archipelago the Hawaiian Islands because that’s the Island of Kamehameha’s birth.

      During his campaign, Kamehameha invited Nāmakehā, the powerful chief of Ka‘ū in the southern district of the Big Island, to join forces against Maui rival chief, Kalanikūpule and his armies on O‘ahu. Instead, Nāmakehā rebuffed Kamehameha and challenged his authority with power. Hostilities erupted between the two chiefs with the parents of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia aligning their allegiance with Nāmakehā since his mother was a noble-born relation. Tragically, after Nāmakehā’s death in a fierce battle at Hilo, Kamehameha sought revenge by attacking the fallen chief’s settlements and unleashing his deadly forces against the family of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia.

      The name “Henry ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia” was completely unfamiliar when I received the phone call in the spring of 1993 from Henry L. Fuqua, whose Hartford funeral home had been contracted to remove Henry’s physical remains and prepare him for repatriation to the Big Island. As a well-established funeral director in the region, Fuqua had had a good deal of experience disinterring contemporary burials using mechanical excavators to lift metal caskets out of their vaults. But fragile, decomposing wooden coffins dating to the early 19^th century were far beyond his experience.²⁷ He needed a forensic archaeologist to conduct the sensitive exhumation and was advised to contact the state archaeologist for assistance.

      Law in Connecticut is such that any time human skeletal remains are uncovered and determined by the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner to be older than fifty years and associated with an unmarked historic grave, the investigation is turned over to the state archaeologist for identification, removal if necessary, and reburial according to the cultural prescriptions of the deceased.²⁸ Under this legislative mandate, we had investigated a number of accidental burial discoveries as well as cemetery vandalisms, including a sand and gravel mining operation that inadvertently exposed a colonial farming family’s burial ground, a house expansion project that yielded 17^th century Native American graves, and a mausoleum that had been violated to obtain human skulls for satanic cult rituals. As state archaeologist, we had run the gamut from modern criminal investigations to the respectful and professional treatment of historical burials accidently uncovered during construction activities or marred by deliberate unlawful desecration. We worked closely with the state’s Native American Nations, historical societies, churches, descendant families, and other associations representing the dead to facilitate respectful reburial of human remains.²⁹

      The unique request to disinter Henry ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia posed the first instance where we had been called upon to remove an undisturbed burial for purposes of repatriation. On the phone, Henry Fuqua related the Lee family’s petition for the return of their ancestor; upon hearing the story, we were more than pleased to use our expertise to assist.

      Pleased, but also struck by the intimidating responsibility of handling ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia’s skeletal remains, his iwi, which houses his spirit (‘uhane), his powerful mana. The archaeological treatment of the iwi required restraint, respect, and sanctity. We were cognizant that ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia’s ‘uhane would be near, and our commitment was to handle them reverentially.

      The morning broke bright and windy although the seas were unusually calm in the late summer of 1796. The playful surf splashed gently over rocks, soaking the sand of Hilo harbor. Peace and serenity gave way when Kamehameha, believed to be in O‘ahu at the time, unexpectedly appeared amid his war canoes around Pepe‘ekeo Point from the north. Nāmakehā, a rival chief from the southern Ka’u district, had threatened Kamehameha’s hegemony and transferred his warriors and their families to the northeastern Hilo districts, invading Kamehameha’s territory. When the ali‘i nui heard of the threat, he quickly returned with his large peleleu fleet of battle-ready canoes which emerged in great numbers across the sun-swept waters.

      Prepared to engage the enemy with all their strength, Nāmakehā’s warriors were hopelessly outnumbered by Kamehameha’s forces. The invading canoes were paddled by strong, young men bent forward, sweeping their powerful rowing strokes in unison, borne by the floodtide, moving the attackers at an amazing and deadly speed toward the beach near the mouth of the Waiākea River.³⁰ The Battle of Kaipalaoa had begun.

      The combatants were mostly comprised of commoners—fisherman and farmers whose duty was to support their ali‘i nui, though some were professional soldiers, trained from their youth in the art of warfare. Once the invaders were on the beach, the attack started with a massive missile bombardment composed of javelins, followed by pikers who formed in ranks moving as an advancing wall of sharp spears. Then hand-to-hand combat ensued featuring the deadly art of lua, which emphasized bone breaking, wrestling, and strangulation, sometimes followed by dismemberment. To defend themselves, common warriors lathered up their bodies with oil making it difficult for their enemy to grasp them. Chiefs wore feathered cloaks which served as battledresses more than garments of opulence, used for protection from stone missiles and to hurtle their enemy onto the ground to be finished off with a spear or dagger.³¹

      The warring parties fought their bloody battle along the waterfront. Defenders and attackers punished each other. Nonetheless, Nāmakehā’s supporters were overpowered and horribly slaughtered by Kamehameha’s invaders. As one of the last rival chiefs to oppose Kamehameha’s rule, he was hunted down, killed, and sacrificed at the Pi‘ihonua Heiau.³² In their frenzy of revenge, the conquering forces turned on the villagers that supported Nāmakehā, continuing their reprisal on the families of the defenders. The alarm was sounded among the survivors; households fled.

      When Keau, one of Nāmakehā’s warriors, recognized that his fellow-defenders were being overwhelmed and the battle lost, he withdrew from the beachfront, retreating toward the village to protect his young family. Gathering