As we walk swiftly across the soft, burning sand of Polihale Beach, a wave crashes on the shore, and the ocean rolls up to meet us. I bend to pick up a seashell that made a brief appearance, but it’s quickly covered again by the ebb tide, and I miss my chance. Our granddaughter squeals with delight as the cold water runs up to her knees, and she takes the opportunity to splash the ocean water on her grandparents, too.
Located on the west side of Kaua‘i, it’s the longest stretch of beach in Hawai‘i and holds deep cultural significance to Hawaiians. As a state park, Polihale is a favorite spot for locals who grew up swimming, fishing, and camping there, and due to its increasing popularity, it’s a growing favorite for visitors as well.
However, it’s not an easy place to get to. The 5-mile-long, former cane-haul road to Polihale is full of ruts and potholes. It’s a dirt road, so if it rains, the road turns to mud, making it nearly impassable unless one has a 4-wheel-drive vehicle. Most rental car companies strictly prohibit their users from driving to the remote beach.
Swimming there can be deadly, as rip currents can quickly pull you away from shore, and large tiger sharks are frequently seen in the area. There is no cell service, which can mean disaster for the unprepared, but if you do make it out there, you’re met with incredible natural beauty.
For generations, Hawaiians have called Polihale their home. Aside from its visual splendor, Polihale is a place of ancient history and culture. The sand dunes hold the burials of our ancestors in sacred embrace, while the mountain peaks that butt up against the sand, jutting out into the ocean, serve as a leaping place for souls into the afterlife.
Like every place in Hawai‘i, Polihale has its own legends. As we sat basking in the sun, we were fortunate to share a bit of history and legend with our granddaughter, and now we share it with you.
There was a special type of limu called pahapaha, sometimes known as sea lettuce, that grew off the shores of Polihale. In our mo‘olelo, it was Nāmakaokaha‘i, goddess of the ocean and Pele’s sister, who gave the limu its special quality. It was said that a lei pahapaha, a garland made of this special seaweed, can fade and dry out over time, but when soaked in water, it will revive to its original freshness. Only the limu pahapaha of Polihale did this. Visitors who made the long trek to Polihale made lei pahapaha and wore them home to prove that they had, indeed, been there. Sadly, this legendary limu can no longer be found off the shores of Polihale.
Lei kauna‘oa was used when praying to Kapoʻulakinaʻu, another sister of Pele and the goddess of sorcery and dark arts. Kāhuna would offer a lei made of kaunaʻoa from the dunes of Polihale to ask for help in defeating their enemies. While the parasitic plant is often found growing on pōhuehue vines along beaches and sand dunes across every island, it is said that Kapo first discovered the yellow-orange plant at Polihale.
At the far end of the beach, just below the cliffs, there is an ancient heiau dedicated to Laka, which also serves an important purpose in the spiritual afterlife. The spirits of the dead come to the west side of Kaua‘i from all over the island. They gather at Kāʻana at the edge of Waimea Canyon and follow the Hikimoe Stream down to the heiau at Polihale. Then, they climb to the top of the 300-foot cliff and leap into the ocean to sink into Pō, the everlasting night. Any spirits that lost their way to the leina a ka ‘uhane, the leaping place of souls, or any spirits that were not accepted into Pō, were left to haunt the ridges of Waimea Canyon and the shores of Polihale. It was said that the people in the area never built their hale pili, their grass houses, with the entrance facing east, so the spirits traveling to Polihale would not enter their home and become trapped.
At night, the air is cool, and the sand loses the heat it soaked up during the day. The sound of crashing waves seems louder, broken occasionally by the music and laughter of shoreline campers. There are no streetlights here, so when the sun goes down, the darkness can feel quite intimidating, and for good reason.
In addition to the procession of the dead, people have witnessed the night marchers walking to and from the ancient heiau. There are numerous stories of people who set up camp on the beach, throw out their fishing lines, and sit back to wait for a bite, only to pull up their lines and leave quickly before anything got a chance to nibble at their bait.
One man described his experience with that exact scenario, saying that everyone in his camp heard the rhythmic beating of the drums.
The wind died, and the air was suddenly hot, when someone in the group shouted, “Night marchers!”
They all lay flat on their stomachs, covering their faces. The drums grew louder, and at one point, they seemed to be right next to the frightened campers. After the sound was gone and they could feel the wind again, the group immediately decided to break camp, believing that there was no way they’d catch any fish that night.
Another woman describes driving out to Polihale late one night to meet her family. With only the headlights from her car to see ahead, Amy drove slower than she would during the day. In the passenger seat, her sister Michelle was talking about her day, filling the silence left by the radio after they lost the signal.
They were almost at the last camp area, where their family was waiting, when Michelle shouted, “Did you see that?”
She turned to Amy and said, “You did see it, didn’t you!”
Though she didn’t admit it to her sister right away, Amy saw exactly what Michelle saw. Without saying a word, she pressed the gas a little harder and told Michelle to be quiet as she tried to focus on the road.
Amy told us that as they made their way through the darkness, they saw a person standing in the middle of the dirt road. The person was far enough away for Amy to gradually slow down, and as they got closer, they could see it was a woman wearing a long dress, walking in the same direction they were headed. But just as Amy started to move to the side and slow down even more, the woman vanished.
“She didn’t move or jump out of the way, and she didn’t run off anywhere. She just totally disappeared!” Amy said.
Polihale is far more than just a scenic beach. It is a wahi pana, a celebrated and storied place, that is culturally sensitive to the Hawaiian people. Park users can help protect this sacred area by leaving no trace of their presence. Be considerate by packing out all trash, and avoid moving rocks or boulders that may be part of the natural or cultural landscape. Resist the urge to drive on the sand beyond designated access routes and stay off the sensitive sand dunes. By treating Polihale with care and respect, we can all help preserve this special place for future generations.
The authors can be reached at hawaii.mysteries@gmail.com
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