Temples to ancient gods - includes a heiau travel planner - restoration of Hawaii's sacred heiaus

Sunset, March, 1999 by Yvonne Daley

For decades, a devoted archaeologist has worked to preserve Hawaii's sacred heiaus. Now they will awe you too

The vowel-rich sounds of ancient Polynesian work songs float from a small cluster of pandanus trees and 'awa shrubs. A few steps more and we find the men, muscles rippling above shorts and short pareos as they toss heavy lava boulders along a human chain. They sing because they have nearly finished their volunteer effort, the rebuilding of an immense tiered retaining wall constructed hundreds of years ago by native Hawaiians.

Yosihiko Sinoto, a compact man in no-nonsense khaki, quietly surveys the men's work. "Beautiful. So quick," he says. Everyone grins at the joke. Sinoto, a self-effacing but much admired archaeologist, has fought for nearly 25 years to save Pi'ilanihale Heiau, set on cliffs above the Hana coast on Maui.

Built by Hawaiian chiefs and kings as temples to the gods, heiaus are lava or limestone enclosures that once contained prayer towers, taboo houses, drum houses, and altars. In a place where few structures are built for permanence, they are the most enduring architectural statement of a people who sought spiritual guidance not only to understand the ways of the universe but also to deal with practical issues such as fishing, mending broken bones, planting, and harvesting. Each heiau was a place of great mana, or power.

But heiaus have also proven vulnerable to centuries of neglect, and preserving and restoring them has not been easy. Take the Pi'ilanihale Heiau site, for instance, considered the largest in the Hawaiian Islands. Its biggest portion was built by a 15th-century moi, or chief, King Pi'ilani, who is credited with uniting the people of Maui and building the early coastal fishponds and taro terraces of the Hana region. On this site, he lived and worshiped, planned battles, and designed ways to feed his people. Yet, when Sinoto began restoring it, large parts of the heiau's walls had fallen down, trampled by cows that had grazed here for decades. Much of the heiau's interior, once painstakingly paved by Pi'ilani's workers, was covered with vegetation.

Sinoto not only had to fight these ravages of time and neglect but also had to contend with bureaucratic, legal, and financial obstacles that stalled the project again and again. That he succeeded is due in large part to Hawaiian stonemasons who worked so that Pi'ilani and the handiwork of their ancestors might be seen and appreciated by others today.

Sinoto often has this inspirational effect on others - for no one has done more to preserve Hawaii's heiaus than the Japanese archaeologist. After Sinoto left Japan in 1954, headed to the University of California at Berkeley to study Native American anthropology, he met Kenneth Emory, an anthropologist who was nearly single-handedly exploring Hawaii's indigenous past. Emory was overseeing a dig of an ancient Hawaiian fishing site at South Point on the Big Island.

"I stopped for a few days and stayed 45 years. Kenneth Emory kidnapped me," Sinoto explains. As Emory was quoted in his biography, Sinoto "was the best archaeologist I had."

Before his first summer there was over, Sinoto had mapped the South Point site. By fall, he was overseeing the dig. Soon he also made an archaeological breakthrough that would demonstrate the interrelationship of the people of Polynesia and Hawaii, by developing a process for comparing fishhooks through minor adaptations in their design and manufacturing methods.

In 1967, after identifying and restoring dozens of heiaus and other historic sites throughout Hawaii, Sinoto was asked by the government of French Polynesia to find and restore ancient marae - heiaus of the islands of Polynesia. His work has expanded throughout the South Pacific, from the Marquesas Islands to Easter Island.

Thanks to Sinoto, dozens of heiaus and other archaeologically significant sites in the Polynesian triangle - the vast area of ocean and islands bounded by Hawaii, New Zealand, and Easter Island, with French Polynesia as the center - have been discovered and restored. Along with preserving Polynesian archaeology, he has also taught islanders about their cultural heritage and how to preserve it. Sinoto is revered within his profession - and has become a household name in the South Pacific. A pop tribute from 1987, "Taote Sinoto," still plays on Tahitian radio.

At his masterwork, Pi'ilanihale Heiau, Sinoto leads a group of visitors up to view the site. He has just turned 74, yet his stride is brisk as we climb to the heiau, situated on a large bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. From this vantage point, you can see how Pi'ilani's fortress commands the rugged coast and lowlands below. And you can understand why, in Sinoto's mind, the quarter century of struggle has been its own reward. "It's never too long or too much work when the result is a happy one," he says.

Today a traveler to Hawaii can visit sites that Sinoto and fellow archaeologists have helped preserve. Don't expect elaborate architecture: these are simple structures. But do remember that they are sacred sites. Don't remove rocks or walk within the heiau. Instead, feel the mana these sites contain, and take that with you.