"Singing sweet melodies", Anoina so pleased to sing to he beloved associate, "This is my message to you. Don't worry bout a thing." The onset of the monsoon season guaranteed their inseparable reunification. All the waves of changes past, the family from the refuge of Huelo Point, headed for the waves to come. The monsoon season was like a time out. As the skies and the sea became more agitated and turbulent, a glow of serenity blessed the lives of Martin, Anoina, and their growing gift from Jah, Kuhio. And the weeks during Fall and early Winter of 1977 saw the great swells of Hookipa Beach. International surfing champions filled the hotels of Kahului and the North Shore breaks. When the sun rose above the horizon, Gary and Martin would be at the outside break. They would be long gone by the time the pros arrived. Anoina, too, was becoming quite well-known as an eccentric, yet she rode the huge waves like she had at Anuhola. There was an absence of competitive feelings in the water at sunrise. Michael always kidded Gary Costello's style, wide survival stance with his back to the right-breaking point. He was no one to grace a surfing magazine, but no one pictured in a magazine would be on a larger wave or in a better position on the wave than Gary. Martin w2as the same way, only sneakier and faster, and more aerodynamic. Anoina, on the other hand, had to be seen to actually conceive of her way with the power of the ocean. With her small hand board, as big as a baseball glove, she would push her leading hand straight down as her powerful legs and Churchill fins propelled her into the waves. Once in the pocket, two feet below the smoking cresty of the waves, she would drop twenty feet straight down the face, carving her own artistry with her handboard. On these waves, she had no interest to challenge the pipe, she would just get to the shoulder and pop out over the top. The pipe would be saved for her last ride of the day. Sometimes her and Martin would share a wave, sometimes all three would ride. Kewela would be sketching it all from the beach, playing with Koleka and Kuhio, Kaya, Wendy, Alana, and all who showed up. Kewela and Gary were inseparable and living in Makawao, and the mauka road between the Costello ranch and Huelo Point was well-traveled by both families. Sometimes, all six of them would just change houses, travelling the road together. It was a wonderful time of healing remedies and spiritual rebirth.
The children slept as the huge raindrops slapped the metal roofs of Huelo Point refuge. The four friends, never fearing reprisal, envy, or anger from the confidences they heartily shared with one another, shared kaliherb and music on the lanai. Gary even started playing music, using a drum stick on a cow bell or clapping two blocks of koa wood. Martin spoke over the melodies of Kewela's flutes and Anoina's slack key Washburn:
Waves carve the shoreline as they see fit
Removing the mansions, but who will admit
That the waves have the power, not the surfer who rides
Creator of waves is He who decides
Which wave of fiyeh will consume the whole world
It happens all di time, or haven't you heard
All of us know that surely He'll save
Us, but I'm sure He'll give us a wave
Waves in di air, waves in di sound
Breaks in di waves and we just play around
Breaks in di waves, ride in di trim
Wave after wave, Oh Govinda, praise Him
Laughing and joking about the song, Martin told Anoina, Gary and Kewela, "and you were told you'd never hear sufr music again." They all had such a good time playing music like this, they decided to head for the highlands the next day, to the "for sale" ranch with electricity. David Kaaawa just lived a mile away near Richie, so, maybe a jam could be spontaniously generated. And generated it was. A new band, Martin's and David's rhythms, Kewela's mystical flute, Anoina's chanting, congas, slack key as she saw fit, and Gary's well-timed stark percussions. What the flute and percussions added far exceeded what was missed from Holy Smoke. The sweetness of the highlands and the rain forests was conveyed through the softer Gibson riffs and synthesized chorus from the keyboards. And every member of the group was compelled to compose lyrics soon. The anxiety of scheduling or working was not in evidence, but all of them knew that a positive future awaited their newly reformed band.
As the new year wave formed on the horizon, a three acre parcel above the mud of Keanae Valley came to life. Eight miles East of Huelo Point, the drive took twenty minutes due to the hairpin curves of the Hana Highway. A load of wood in a closed container arrived at the iron gate. Gary, Kewela and Koleka became a family and their refuge was before them. His wealth was no longer a burden to him, as he divested much of it to set up a Michael Kaanakuhio Foundation to provide help to displaced indigenous peoples. He would never have to work to support his new family, however, he worked very hard always to show his love for Kewela and Koleka. After the lanai was roofed and screened, they all wanted to move in. Gary had already provided a generator powered heat, water, and electrical system, and bulldozed a good road encircling the three acres. He enjoyed his life by masterfully planning and building the beautiful Valley Lookout homestead. The only problem was the koa furinture at the Makawao ranch. Easily solved by a storage facility in Paia, Gary, Kewela, and Koleka moved from the highlands to the coastal valley rain forests of Haleakala's North Rift Zone.
Kipu'ka - Reunification (Ch 1)
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