Recent tsunami warnings in the Hawaiian Islands prompt warm memories of our last visit to Hilo, the Big Island's resilient little capital.
Faithfully restored, Mission House illustrates early missionary life. Our Hawaiian guide explains, "Sailing from New England in 1832, David and Sarah Lyman built this gracious frame house, raising seven children here. They used that luxurious koa dining table and the blue willow china to host royalty, ship captains and celebrities like Mark Twain."
Upstairs, intricate pineapples carved by a stranded sea captain decorate the big four-poster. Pointing to Haili church from the large veranda, our guide relates, "An early sermon given there foreshadowed a lava flow that threatened the settlement. Camped out in its pathway, Princess Ruth called on the fiery volcano goddess Pele to stop it. Mrs. Lyman steadfastly recorded such eruptions, as well as tsunamis. Scientists still use her diaries for reference."
Named for Hawaii's last king, Kalakaua Park reminds us that royals holidayed at a lush summer resort in Hilo, nowadays site of Hilo Hotel. King Kamehameha the Great's statue stands on his father's former lands near beautiful Hilo Bay; this mighty king's favourite fishpond nestles among towering palms there and children still use their fishing poles in the pretty winding waterways. In Hilo, Kamehameha had commanded a great fleet carved from the plentiful koa trees once covering Mauna Kea's slopes. In an attempt to conquer Kauai, he launched over 1,000 canoes from Hilo Bay. Nowadays, outrigger enthusiasts paddle and race there.
Toward the ocean we see the immense breakwater begun in 1908. Over 86,000 tonnes of quarried island rock was meant to calm this old harbour. Regardless of this formidable wall, two tidal waves swept away Hilo's waterfront district, now extensive green parklands. The Shinmachi Memorial commemorates 1960's tsunami casualties.
Surviving businesses cluster along Kamehameha Avenue. Originally a wholesale company, Koehnen's (1910) is now a fine furniture store. Inside, vintage koa panelling and native ohia floors are beautifully preserved. "For the most part, it's in its original state," grins the owner, touring us from basement to attic. In the basement, she notes watermarks staining the stairs, "Reinforced with iron rails, those walls withstood two tsunamis, four floods!"
Two blocks along, a First Hawaiian Bank enduring the 1946 and 1960 tidal waves now houses Pacific Tsunami Museum. Inside, we meet a 96-year-old tsunami survivor who inspiringly recounts, "In 1960, a tsunami was predicted to arrive at 12 a.m. Everyone came up to my house to be safe miles above Wailoa Bridge. Just after 1 a.m., the power station exploded, shooting red crackling fire; all went black. I was holding onto my screen door; my house filled with water. Everything was swirling and floating. My friend disappeared, sucked out the front door. My home was collapsing. I fainted, and woke up in the ocean among masses of wreckage and debris. In the rise and fall of big waves, I saw a light, a buoy way out in the bay."
After a night and a day, the Coast Guard reunited her with her only daughter. "Miracles happen," she twinkles, nodding wisely.
At the end of the block, S. Hata Building (1912) is refurbished into specialty shops, offices and restaurants. On the opposite corner, where wooden buildings once stood, a popular farmers' market bustles on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Rows of stalls overflow with red anthuriums, buckets of purple orchids, scarlet rambutan, buttery avocados, small apple-bananas and local handicrafts.
Our strolls along main streets, back lanes and verdant parks reveal Hilo's regal legacy and indomitable spirit. Withstanding volcanoes, floods, tsunamis and even a changing economy, she proves a testament to survival.
