Fishing Lesson...

When I was younger, I went to Punalu`u on Hawai`i Island with my father and throw net. I was determined to catch something to eat for my dinner that night. We walked down towards Nino'ole beach and up on the side of the small cliff beneath the heiau perched there. I threw my net several times and didn't catch anything but banged up my legs trying to untangle my net in the small surf. Then I was standing up on a large rock and threw my net. When I went down to retrieve it, I slipped and fell on my butt and slid down the side of this large boulder. I shredded the back of my leg and was bleeding. 

My dad and I walked over towards Punalu'u to try another area. I threw my net again and the net caught onto the tip of my index finger on my left hand and tore the skin open. It hurt and was bleeding. I was just about to give up and go home defeated when I saw a large school of aholehole in the small channel between the shore and reef outcrop. I threw my net and it opened wide. But by the time I got into the water, the fish had gone out a gap in the net next to a rock. My net was stuck on the coral and rocks and it took forever to get it untangled. I was pushed back and forth by the rip current and slashed up some more on the rocks. I gave up. I was depressed. Hurting. Bleeding. My net had new rips. I hadn't caught anything. 

I gathered up my net in a bunch and started walking through the reef to get back to my dad who was waiting on the shore to drive us home. As I was walking, I saw this large red uhu, or parrotfish, just come cruising by in the shallows. My net was not ready to throw and by the time I started to get it ready, the uhu was long gone. If I had my net ready to throw, it would have been a perfect opportunity to catch something big and great. I cursed my bad fortune and bunched up my net again, determined to just get out of there and probably give up fishing forever. 

I walked towards my father who was still another 25 yards away. Right before I reached my dad, I saw a flash of red and the same big red uhu made a giant splash and shot out of the water, out onto the dry reef and started flopping around. I couldn't believe my eyes. I ran over and layed my tangled net right on top of him to keep him from flopping back into the water. My dad couldn't believe it either. I picked him up, net and all and carried him to shore and into the cooler. My mom couldn't believe my fish story either when I brought him home and cooked and ate him. 

The lesson for me had nothing to do with the fishing god, Ku'ula. It had nothing to do with the heiau and my failure to offer my last successful catch to the akua who reside there. It had everything to do with the last catch I made at Punalu'u. The aholehole I brought home the year before. The ones that ended up in the freezer because I was too exhausted to clean and cook them that night. The ones that languished in the freezer for a year because I never made the time to thaw and cook them. The ones that ended up being thrown away from freezer burn when the freezer needed to be thawed and cleaned out. 

Ke Akua taught me a lesson, through pain, hurt and blood. That all life is sacred and not to be wasted. So to ensure I wouldn't repeat my selfish act again, He made sure I earned that uhu. And right when I was defeated, the uhu presented himself to me as the sacred red sacrifice of my kupuna. In old Hawai`i, the aholehole was used to chase away evil spirits and for love magic. And the uhu have such pretty colors that the Hawaiians compared them figuratively to a sweetheart. Momomi wale ku'u 'ono i ka uhu ma'alo i ku'u maka. My craving makes my mouth water for the parrotfish passing before my eyes. My thrownet. My sweetheart passing before my eyes. Love magic. I learned my lessons well. Mahalo no e Ke Akua...