Although together for many hours, the subject of music never came up. Martin did not know that Anoina sang like a denizen of Gandharvaloka, but he did know that she loved Reggae music. Anoina knew that Martin just got back from Honolulu, seeing her favorite Toots and the Maytals, but she did not know that he was a professional musician. When he told her of Kekela, it was the story of Kekela in Kula, a dying Kahuna, murdered by the Amerikans in Vietnam, not the story of the great vocalist who dazzled thousnads for three years as the singer, songwriter of the Holy Smokers.
As they were driving past Paia, Anoina had him turn left into the cane fields near Haiku. The road winded down to a display that Martin did not expect. Anoina's world was an old cane shack with beautiful lava rockeries covered with bouganvilla. A gardenia bush filled the atmosphere with exotic fragerance. 50 year old plumeria trees, not flowering, shaded the gateway from the late afternoon sun. A half-acre vegetable garden, half fallow, was half full of well groomed winter crops. Anoina invited Martin to stay for dinner, but she ran out the back door for a couple of minutes, returning with a sparkling, freshly plucked, pakalolo bud. She had a tin foil box that was warmed by a heat lamp she used to quick-dry buds in the winter. Her Jamaican strain of cannabis sativa could reach thirteen feet high in the summer, but in January, the plants only grew to eight inches. The winter stunts were much more special because of their rarity, whereas in the summer, the plentiful herb often became boring. They sat tired on the Edenlike veranda of the sugar shack and shared the sacrament. By this time, after ten hours of meaningful and intimate association, paying no attention to anything but their reunification, they began to feel at ease with each other.
After tending to the stir-fry treats she was cooking, Anoina grabbed her old Washburn nylon string guitar, tuned slack key style. She sang for Martin a Nyabinghi tune, a praise of Mata Chula she had composed within her heart:
She never could finish this song because she always choked up with emotion as she remembered the Shaman she had met the same time as her dinner guest. Her voice tailed off into a mystical chant of "O Jahovia". Martin was numb. Never had he heard such a voice. When she stopped singing to stir the rice, Martin complimented her musical genius and told her of his musical life. He had received over 50 original Reggae style Hawaiian songs and much more philosophical lyrics from the will of Kekela, along with copyright of the songs and the band name, but he did not sing. He told her of the successful audition while she was herding drunks through the lounge at the hotel. Did the surprises from their unification ever stop? They spent 24 hours together, talking, laughing, crying, smoking, and ended up embracing as mystical tones tumbled from the sky. Their marriage could never be consummated by judge or preacher, for their ceremony was truely a Gandharva Yajna, the heart, mind, body, and soul becoming one.
Tuesday, as they awoke in each other's arms, the Monday wedding vibrations immediately turned to planning. Neither would continue life alone, and as they discovered the previous evening, new things to discover every minute increased their love for one another exponentially. They both awoke with a strong desire to give thanksgiving to the Creator. Together, the called out His Name in love. The next week, Martin and Anoina became soul mates. They never tired of each other's association, and when the stories of their different pasts, as full as they were, became exhausted, all conversation and work turned to the future. They both went to Paia on Thursday, as Martin wanted to introduce Anoina to his friend, Richie. They were invited for vegetarian lumpia at Richie's house that evening, and afterward, went to a jam session that was going on at the Makawao Center. When they arrived, the band was just starting their break. Anoina knew the band members, and asked if she could sing a bit during their break, and asked if Martin could use one of the electric guitars to accompany the song. What subsequently happened was nothing short of magic. As Anoina droned with her Washburn, Martin laid down some heart wrenching riffs like no one had ever heard before. The duet played the same song, O Jahovia, for forty minutes. Her lyrics were not attempted in front of the drinking paniolos and pot farmers, just "O Jahovia", which was joined in by a chorus of "Papa Dio" from a happy and inspired group of Portugee sheep herders from the high country of Haleakala. A great time was had by all, including the band members who also deferred to the spiritual atmosphere.
Fot the next three days, the inseparable newlyweds talked of only playing music together, and Martin desired to introduce Anoina to Kekela, his lyrics as well as his ever-present spirit. He wanted to show Anoina his inherited homestead, so they went to Peahi to pick up his pension check, back to Paia for more building materials, and drove to their future home together. The rain was coming down like only those who have driven the Hana Highway in late January know. Anoina was already mentally detached from the temporary home she had been in since she returned to her heritage four years ago. Martin drove down the 400 foot mud driveway of the mosquito driven rain forest to the shelter he had thrown together in the last three months. I wasn't bad, four strong plywood walls, paneless windows with screens to provide mosquito proof habitation, three eight by eight foot rooms with door ways, but no doors except for the front and back. His plywood bed had underneath his Gibson SG, three boxes of rare books and a box of manuscripted creations bequeathed to him by the Kahuna, Kekela. As Anoina read through the rhythmic poetry, she became deeply moved by Kekela's insight. She discovered what her responsibility was to her culture. Though Kekela was no longer physically present, he showed her through the simple lyrics, her own Alii position. She was not a servant girl, living to amuse the conquering European. She was not hell-bound for rejecting missionary advances imposed on her people. Nor was she disowned for rejecting her parents' tourist industry kingdom. She was the Daughter of Pele, the princess of Kamehameha the Great. Her business was to honor the sky, the sea, the volcano, and live as God's Own. She wanted to sing these songs to the world, and Martin wanted to drive her voice with his Gibson. Holy Smoke had risen by the sanction of the Kahuna Kekela. Anoina truely felt at home in these humble surroundings, and all credit for their increasing happiness was directed to the Creator.
Anoina and Martin decided that Kekela had blessed the Huelo Point property, so they worked to serve the land with rapt attention. They had no desire to be apart, so their living as one was undiscussed, unnoticed, and completely natural. As reborn Alii, they accepted all possession as property of the Creator. Even their own minds, bodies, and unified soul belonged to God, so land ownership or other unnecessary materialistic concerns were not even thought of. But the sugar shack between Paia and Haiku was slowly, piece by piece, moving to Huelo Point. The owner granted Anoina permission to take it all before the bulldozers arrived in the summer. She thought about that appreciated consideration which wasn't afforded to her Trenchtown friends four years earlier. Then, the dozers came as the children slept. She quickly rid herself of the tragic memories of Kingston, Jamaica in 1971.
For a week, the very much in love couple acted like newlyweds the world over. The Huelo Point property turned into a home. The gardenia was masterfully transplanted, used iron roofing and lumber arrived by Rambler as the sugar shack came down. The twenty-five herb plants in planters were moved stealthily under cover of nighttime and the other projects started in Haiku were transferred to Huelo Point. Kekela's parents came by to welcome Anoina into their family and everything was going well. When the first week of February approached, Martin invited Anoina to journey to Lahaina for his gig. Anoina declined because all the excitement over their two-week old life together had exhausted her. They had not spent a single moment apart since she called him from that Kaanapali phone booth. She decided to stay to work on her homestead.
The February monsoon was drenching Lahaina that weekend, and the crowd at the Blue Moon Saloon was light. The tourists were disappointed with the weather and the band responded with three nights of uninspired instrumentals. On Sunday, the owner met with the band after closing to discuss their future. Gabby Pahanui music does not translate well with rock music, and the band, though possessed with great talent, was lost without their old singer. The owner told them that their contract would be reassessed after their next gig in two weeks. As he left, the band was looking to their newest member for fresh ideas. They had burned themselves out auditioning so many singers over the last few weeks. The Blue Moon Saloon, twice a month, was one of the best paying venues on the Island, yet they knew that if the gig was lost, Kamaina was history.
Martin boldly stated his revolutionary idea. In two weeks, Holy Smoke would debut at the Blue Moon Saloon. Kamaina died when the lyrics and the melody of the guitar player left the group. Without letting his ego get in the way, Martin took a leadership role with the band. Either way, it was do or die.
Martin arrived near home as the sun was rising over Hookipa Beach on Monday morning. He was quite wired thinking of the possibilities of Holy Smoke at the Blue Moon. Anoina greeted him as if she were alone for five and a half years, and she was very excited at hearing the news. Over a light breakfast and morning "reefa", he mentioned three practice sessions planned that week at Randy, the drummer's, parents garage in Kahului. The band was willing and the pressure was on Anoina to quickly develop into a professional singer. Martin remembered that just ten songs developed into a very fruitful three year stint at O'Ryans, and only five were actually needed to compliment the very nice instrumentals Kamaina already had mastered. Anoina could simply chant "Nyabinghi stylee" to those tunes, and surely the hearts of all customers would melt. John Anaya, the steel drummer, loved the beat of Anoina's chanting. Randy was already fully conversant with Martin's guitar riffs, and they played off each other as if they had been together for years. David Kaaawa's keyboards tied everything in together. The third session was greatly enhanced by the Mesa Boogie amplifier that Martin borrowed from a guitar player who needed plane fare back to the mainland. Martin and the other band members loved the sound so much that they pooled their resources so Martin could send him on his way. The band members knew that they would be paid in full very soon. A week before the gig, the owner of the Blue Moon Saloon was notified of the name change and the addition of a female vocalist, and he, too, was excited. He footed the cost of handbills, plastered all over west Maui from Makena Beach up the Kaanapali coast, printed with Martin's expert wording:
Anoina had to work that Sunday at the hotel, so she was being put to the "fiyeh" over the weekend. Lahaina was eighty degrees without so much as a cloud in the sky, thousands of busy tourists crowding the beaches from Kehei to Honolua Bay. As Martin and Anoina drove through town on the Friday afternoon, they were far too wired to do Nyabinghi. They were very nervous, as well as having serious reservations about doing such holy songs in public. Martin told Anoina about how Kekela was critical of so-called Christians who publically made a show of "speaking in tongues". When Martin and Anoina played and sang together, sometimes they felt on a different spiritual platform. They begged forgiveness from the Creator for displaying His Gift in a public way for economic benefit. They stopped at Richie's son's home for a fruit salad dinner, then ambled to the Blue Moon. They got a table in back, with a window view of the old whaling harbor. The place was packed with dinner customers, and they also noticed a lot of North Shore people milling around outside. Martin then noticed a couple he recognized as O'Ryans customers from Manhatten Beach reading the hand bill pasted to the pole outside their window. All of a sudden, Martin felt way over his head. They were to warm up in fifteen minutes. He grabbed Anoina by the hand and they both ran outside the back door of the club. Behind the picturesque banyan tree in the beach park, they found the rest of the band, nervously smoking a huge spliff. John Anaya laughed as he handed Anoina the reefa, saying "Holy Smoke"?
Fifteen minutes later they all hit the stage, plugged in and played to a great audience reception. Tourists were not prevalent, but he saloon was packed with the year round Maui residents from Hana to Napili. Overload crowds were milling outside. Anoina began by singing "O Jahovia" as the steel drums methodiaclly chimed. Martin made his Boogie amp reel in and spin out like he rode big waves, aerodynamically sound. The keyboard and drums filled the hall to the utter delight of all. Forty minutes later, the starship landed and allowed the bewildered passengers to disembark. Astonishment befell the audience as the crescendo dropped into dead silence. The crowd erupted in ecstatic satisfaction as Martin took the microphone to mention that the band was going to take a short break, and the silence was again broken by one last chord to end the song. They had truely, instantly conquered the Lahaina music scene. Holy Smoke filled the entire town.
Anoina started the next set, singing:
The band was very tight as they flowed through the popular anthem of the great Bob Marley. Anoina was such an attractive stage presence, soon, all the band members, even the normally quiet Martin, chimed in the chorus: "Positive, if you want to live." Lahaina was transformed for ten minutes into Montego Bay, Jamaica, as the band kept up the rhythms after Anoina stopped singing. She started pouinding on the congas and the improvizations of the talented group again took off. Kekela's songs, ranging from Doors like insanity to sweet love songs sung ever so sweetly by Anoina, and the crowd soon knew that a musical "event" was taking place. The success of Holy Smoke's debut was unprecedented.
Saturday morning, Anoina and Martin again went North to see if the unseasonable waves were still rolling into Honolua Bay, but were actually glad to see the waveless glassy calm and the beach deserted. They were exhausted and wishing they were home at Huelo Point. The pay they received from the Friday night gig was more than they had ever made in a day. The band earned $500 plus tips. After paying $75 to the sound engineer, each member was left with over $150 each. The new family now had $300 and two more nights of work. Based on the success of their debut, the club owner decided to change the format to two concerts on Saturday night, rather than the dance hall style of four sets til Two A.M. The cover charge was the same that he had charged for San Francisco's Copperhead, featuring Quicksilver's famous guitarist John Cippolina the previous weekend. The Maui Sun Night Life section ran a story Saturday morning about the Friday night debut of Holy Smoke, with many references about the "Holy Smokers from South Bay, California, and Kamaina joining forces to blend the world beat with ancient Polynesian vocal sounds". Anoina's photo was on page two, with microphone in her hand and tears streaming from her eyes.
The tired couple fell asleep in the shade of a huge banyan tree, and did not awaken until 4 P.M. They drove back, stopping at the Kaanapali Sheraton to swin in the fresh water pools. Refreshed and high, they went to the Blue Moon for a light vegetarian supper. The first concert was at Seven Thirty and the last was at Ten, so they were pleased that they would be done by One A.M., giving Anoina time to sleep before work at the hotel the next day at noon. The Sunday night schedule was an open mike, with jammers playing along with the band, so Anoina felt her presence unnecessary.
Maui is like two islands separated by a large valley which seems to rise out of the ocean separating the huge Mt. Haleakala from the steep, jagged West Maui Mountains. It was once the largest mountain in the world, some say rising 50,000 feet above sea level, until a cataclysmic eruption melted the side into the sea. What is left is the two mile high Haleakala and the one mile high West Maui chain. West Maui folks did not travel much to the North, and denizens of Haleakala rain forest slopes seldom went to the dry desert of the Kaanapali coast. But everyone goes to Wailuku, strategicly located dead center in the valley, the commercial hub of the island. The city bustles from Mondays from 7 A.M. until noon on Saturdays. On this Saturday morning, at supermarkets, health food stores, gardening stores, everywhere was heard the hum of the Holy Smoke rising. Word traveled from Hana to Kula, and it seemed that a lot of folks who lived on the islanf year-round were heading to Lahaina, excited to see the new contribution to music. By 6 P.M. there was already a line forming around the corner from the Blue Moon's back entrance all the way to the beach. Traffic was snarled and the nearest parking was five blocks away near the old whaler's prison. Martin and Anoina snagged the last town parking spot, under the majestic banyan tree where they conquered the butterflies the previous night with the good ganja of John Anaya. David Kaaawa, the keyboard player, was parked next to them, and he caught their attention. They walked to the beach park where a grassy picnic area had a blanket spread out. David and his family had lots of good food ready hoping that the band would arrive early for a little mellowing before the big show. His wife, Kaya, and twin daughters had prepared a virtual feast, Tahitian style, with fresh soft coconuts, papayas, home made yoghurt, bananas, mangoes, guava and passion fruit nectar made with lahua honey, and Okinawan sweet potatoes wrapped in foil laying on hot coals. The band all dug in as the sun performed the West Horizon Ballet between Molokai and Lanai, as the Kona winds were gently blowing.
Although the spiritual intensity was not as great as their debutante dance the previous evening, Holy Smoke stood their ground as the solid musical event for both Saturday performances. They doubled their income and many high rollers were moving in, wanting to capitalize on what they deemed as a certain success story. A music producer sought out Anoina in between shows and gave her his card. He knew she was genuine because she had done so much with the land he had entrusted her with. He also asked if he could help her with her moving project. Her last letter to him, asking permission to take the gardenia plant, touched him greatly. He decided not to bull doze the property, and was in town to hire a construction company to carefully dismantle the house and deliver all usable materials to her. This was indeed the most lucrative weekend that Martin and Anoina could ever have imagined.
At the stroke of midnight, the final sond of the second performance was "O Jahovia", and like the first song the night before, contained no lyrics other than "O Jahovia, One God, One Love, Praise Him". The song lasted for over an hour with a surreal duel between David's synthesizer and Martin's stereo-phased Gibson and Mesa, punctuated by a machine gun episode with John Anaya resonating the steel drums, Anoina's pounding on the congas, and Randy's booming dual bass drums. The crowd was wild and totally filled with the Holy Smoke, wafting through the air uncontested. The drinking was low and the participants were high. Finally, Nartin stepped up to the microphone to introduce the members of the band to a solo refrain from each members' instrument, and Anoina ended by introducing Martin, thanking the croud for their enthusiastic graciousness, and humbly bowed her head, singing a capella, "Mahalo Nui loa Kahuna Kekela, Mahalo Mata Chula". In the quiet of the band's dressing room, a large victory spliff was shared by all.
Martin and Anoina went to sleep in the back of the Rambler parked in the driveway at Richie's son's home. Martin had mosquito proofed the floorboard by duct-taping screen wire over the gaping rust holes. The Rambler was a classic, mid 70s, Maui cruiser, rusted out everywhere from the continual salty mist ever present on the island. But it was all the newlyweds needed. On Sunday morning, they awoke from the sun rising over the West Maui Mountains. They drove to the hotel for another swim in the fresh water pools. They ate a breakfast at the hotel's restaurant, where she was scheduled to work in two hours. But this Sunday was different than any other she'd spent in the three years of employment there. She was always rather anonymous, except for her inability to hide her striking Polynesian beauty. She was just a working girl serving the often rude golf tours and business conventions, and just a member of a ten person crew scurrying about, getting coffee, taking orders, cleaning tables, working the register and directing the hung-over duffers to their seats. As hostess, Anoina, because of her Hawaiian race, was placed front and center, paraded for effect and expected to give the complimentary "aloha's" and plastic leis. But today would be different. The convention in town happened to be record industry executives, most of whom saw her fantastic performances the previous two evenings. Her anonymity was no longer to be maintained.
Robert Dunphey walked up to their table, shook Anoina's hand and congratulated her on her performances. Speaking to her and Martin, he told them that although he was building his retirement home on the land she had so nicely taken care of for four years, he was also building a studio in Kahului to produce Island Music. He already had $600,000 in equipment installed and was very sincere in his offer to the group to break it in for free. He did not offer a music contract, which demand album production and radio deals, but he did hire both Martin and Anoina on the spot on a "general services" contract, the salary greatly exceeding her hotel salary. Needless to say, Anoina praised Jah for delivering her from the bondage of being a conquered alii, and wrote her resignation on the back of a mai-tai ad on the table. Her manager was not at all put out by this sudden action of his employee, for he knew as she sang "O Jahovia" the night before, while he was crying like a baby in the audience, that she would not play servant to the tourists again. She was destined to indeed, melt their hearts.
So, at noon Sunday, instead of getting into her pretty little costume, she and Martin were hanging out on the Lahaina waterfront with Davis, Kaya, and the twin eight year old girls, Wendy and Alana. They were all talking about how they hoped that evening would not be as intense as the previous nights. The attention they had received on that weekend that they expected to get fired on was unreal. When Martin told David about the studio that hired them, David was excited. He even knew the location, down the street from their apartment, the same industrial park where he worked during the week. Randy Nobrigga and John Anaya joined them and they all talked in excitment, smoking and joking until showtime. Anoina sat at the window table with Kaya while the band played instrumental tunes to the calmer crowd. The twins were at gramma's for the evening, and Kaya took the opportunity to see the band in action. She told Anoina of how Kamaina worked so long and hard to get their break, and then as it finally happened, just the vocalist received the benefit. She told her that Lahaina was the home of many sharks ready to devour the local people. The sharks were not indigenous to Lahaina harbor, as the brackish ponds desalinized the oceanfront. But when the whalers came, dumping huge carcasses of their prey into the brine, the sharks came to stay. Kaya was a lifelong Wailuku resident, daughter of a sugar mill foreman. Raised as a devout Roman Catholic, she and David married upon graduation from Kahului High School. Ten years later, they were living in a modest City Center apartment comples with two growing and very active eight year old daughters. David's keyboards provided the income to take the edge off their expenses, added to the $8 per hour electronics apprenticeship he was working on at Maui Community College. She was alos attenting MCC, majoring in horticulture. Anoina and Kaya became immediate fast friends, Anoina telling her of her own agricultural abilities and projects, and invited her family to come to Huelo Point to camp out over the Easter break, still six weeks away. She was surprised to meet someone so seemingly happy in the tenth year of marriage. She could understand her own relationship and intensity of the loving bond between her and Martin, but they were just finishing the first month together, and the chain of events of the New Year was accelerated beyond belief, so she figured that the systems were suffering a sort of shock. She was riding a God-created wave and was depending on Him to see her through. Some times, when she looked at Martin, she wondered exactly who was this person. Martin himself often was bewildered as to what was next. Although finishing his first full year of island living, he was actually only around for five months. Although everyone knew him, he only "knew" Richie, his beloved Anoina, and now his band. A social life was beaconing these mystic travellers hiding in the rain forests of the North Maui Coast.
At ten P.M., Holy Smoke was finishing up their jam set. They had played the blues, rock n roll, and tried to allow the guest musicians to lead the group through their pet cover tunes. The club was rowdy, filled with entourages of bands and musicians looking for work. It was one month to the day when Martin was hired on-the-spot, given $50, for his contribution to a similar Kamaina open mike jam session. Martin motioned for Anoina to come on stage, and she and her Washburn slack keyed instrument played pure alii, Martin tuned his amp down and the Nyabinghi happened again, this time, without the volume of the previous two nights. Those who saw were not at the previous two nights' shows, but were certainly similarly affected. Even after a relaxing evening at an uncrowded club, the owner was totally sold on the idea of Holy Smoke. He simply said to the band after the last set that they could write their own ticket, they could dictate the terms for continuing to perform at the Blue Moon Saloon. Over a cup of strong Kona coffee in an empty and closed club, the band members agreed to have a business meeting on the following Thursday evening and each member departed. The night was balmy and the sky was lit by a half moon, so Martin and Anoina decided to drive home. Anoina, though wired and ready for the sixty mile trip to her homeland as they preceeded to the Maalaea Junction, was dead asleep by the time they arrived in Wailuku. Martin, hypnotized by Anoina's sweet vocals still ringing in his heart, drove the winding lonely highway to Huelo Point. Again, with the sun rising as he passed Hookipa Beach, he knew that only fifteen miles were left on the slow journey. Anoina awoke, knowing exactly where she was, wanting to greet her new refuge properly. They immediately fell fast asleep on the veranda of the growing shack. A new room was added during the confusion of the previous week, a 12' X 12' floor and ceiling, but no walls, covered instead with expensive mosquito netting. Martin threw it together in a couple of hours while Anoina worked on the gardenia.
For the first, in what seemed like the whole month in which they had been together, Martin and Anoina were now on "Hawaii time". There was no hurry to do anything. They awoke late Monday afternoon, took a little reefa, ate guavas from the late bearing trees and said nothing to each other about music. They had earned $900 in three days and had a job to do in about nine days, so they decided to relax. They were only awake for a couple of hours before they were put asleep again by the drone of the hard February raindrops falling on the corrugated iron roof of their home. At sunrise on Tuesday, they went to Hookipa Beach, as relaxation to Martin was riding waves. The big wave beach was usually crowded with only experts in the water. Martin loved this break, and had become a once-a-week regular since October, when the North swells began. Anoina, too, had come to this beach often, but never saw the one-footed belly-boarder in the water, though she had heard of such a thing. She saw some of her Paia friends that she hadn't seen since she reunified with Martin, and was excited to tell them of her adventures. For the next two days, they worked on the homestead, bought supplies, cleaned up more stuff from the Haiku sugar shack and had a great time enjoying the quiet of each other's company. Finally, the Thursday band business meeting only six hours away, they felt the need to discuss opinions of directional desire.
Anoina told Martin that she was uncomfortable with Lahaina, and would hate to have to go there more than once a month. Martin then said that he, too, would prefer to follow a one-show routine. Although he played every week with Kekela over a year ago, their gig was just on Thursdays. So, in a pre-meeting of two band members, they decided that one day per month, a two-show concert format, would pay well enough and have an extra benefit of keeping the band fresh. Anoina also wanted to get the band together at least twice a month for studio practice, as she respected the sincerity of Robert Dunphey.
Bob Dunphey was a 65 year old eccentric who had long scraggly gray hair always strapped in a ponytail. He was a pioneer in San Francisco music 12 years earlier, recording live performances of North Beach bands there. These bands exploded into fame shortly he sold his studio to a group called Family Dog Enterprizes. In the twelve ensuing years, he worked with many groups from the sixties and made his fortune. By the time Woodstock changed new music from "three great bands for three bucks at intimate clubs" to "one group at a huge sports complex for $20", he was semi-retired, living in Malibu with his wife, down the street from Bob and Sarah Dylan and next door from Neil Diamond. He purchased three acres of sugar plantation in Maui, and planned his move from the megaopolis. Anoina did not know him well, but she did know of his genuine generousity and honorable dealings.
She met him on the plane she had caught at LAX when she was returning home from the horrors of Jamaica. Sitting next to him on the flight, she told him of her experiances and that she was heading home for needed rest, but that she did not know what to expect when she got there. He was on his way to see his new purchase and told her that the place was going to be vacant for quite awhile until he retired. Just as he did with his generous studio offer, he gave her his house with no strings attached. So, after seeing the wonderful combination of Santana and Mahavisnu at Diamond Head on January 1, 1972, she rushed to Maui to answer his condo calling card. He set minimal ground rules and kept his word, sending only a nice Christmas card every year. She sent him photos of the sugar shack as she improved the grounds, trying to convince him that a fancy new cedar home was not necessary, that the shack would serve his needs just fine. Anoina, thus thinking of her kind music industru benefactor, made her point clear to Martin. They left Huelo Point early, keeping the ritual of meeting with Richie for tea in Paia intact, and were again asked to dinner for the following Saturday evening. They headed to Kahului to the planning of the future of the Holy Smoke.
When they pulled up to Randy's parents' garage, they walked to the beach down the street to meet with Randy, David, and John Anaya, who were awaiting their arrival by catching the sun with another "pakareef". The conversation was similar to the discussion earlier between Martin and Anoina, the subject being "burnout". No one in the band would be fool enough to actually live in Lahaina, so Anoina's concerns were shared by all. They were also convinced by Martin that their new stature as a progressive, original music group did not lend itself into being a "house" band. The Blue Moon Saloon was certainly an incomparable venue, but to play six nights a month was too much. So, they unanimously agreed to do the Saturday Shows once a month. This would also free up five nights a month for other musicians to get needed work, and, if the last weekend was any indication, the earnings would still far surpass any monthly receipts the Kamaina group would ever hope for. John Anaya loved the news. He had just leased two acres in Pukalani, and needed the extra weekend to work his land. He had been secretly hoping that Kamaina would just fold so he could concentrate on his construction job and his new fiancee. He was prepared to resign at this meeting if the direction of the new band was to increase his obligation to it.
When Anoina spoke of her interest in studio work, the band was very eager, wanting to see if they had a recording future. These things would be worked out the following Tuesday when Martin and Anoina were invited to tour Bob Dunphey's facility. Randy was given the task, as band founder, to work out a schedule with Blue Moon's management. His lawyer father practiced in Lahaina and specialized in entertainment clients. They would all be in touch soon. As the meeting disbanded, Anoina again asked David to bring his family to their home anytime.
Although neither Anoina nor Martin were actively persuing married life, they both were deeply immersed in asking The Creator Personally to engage in His service. They were both content in their humble independence. Yet, when one asks Jahovia for the benediction of His service, the platform for such service is provided by His Divine Will. They were filled with each other, the homestead, the economic development, their quickly evolving New Day, New Feeling, New Zion, in His service. They would not allow forgetfulness of His Grace to creep into anything they would pursue. Thus, their conversations would always contain passages from the two high priests who acted as selfless preceptors who delivered them from the clutches of Babylon, Kahuna Kekela and Mata Chula. Leaving Kahului that evening, they decided to take the Haleakala Highway to the highlands to visit Kekela's old parents. When Kekela was dying, he brought them into the room with Martin and delivered the Holy Smoker discourse to releive them of the pain of seeing him pass on at such a young age. As the sun was setting, Martin pulled over near a pasture and repeated the story to his beloved Anoina. The sunset was very different from 3000 feet than from the West Coast desert below. The colors, though similar in brilliance, were cooler and mystical. Martin spoke gravely:
"When people hear the name of our band, they think of a spiritual significance of the herb we honor. Yes, the herb may be sacrament, but Kekela's real reason for selecting the name was to identify with the ultimate desire of the ancient Kahuna and deliverer of his people, the Prophet Moses. While wandering in the wilderness, he saw smoke in the sky which snapped him out of his bewilderment and led him to a Burning Bush. Within the fiyeh of his vision, he saw Jahovia, face to face. Upon asking what name to call, his beloved said His name was Jahweh. The instruction received was that simple, and when we become similarly bewildered we can follow the holy smoke wafting within our hearts to our eternal associate and well-wisher, Jahweh. Thus, Holy Smokers identify with the signal, knowing it's intimate connection with the Sender. Kekela then spoke of Vedic Mantras, especially "Aham Brahmasmi", meaning recognition by we bewildered wanderers of our actual spiritual essence. Kekela proved it to his parents and to myself, as he was very much alive at his own funeral, and is even with us now. After his parents retired for the evening, feeling certain joy and serenity, Kekela continued with an explanation of the Trinity which I hear to this day. The common view is that God, with no face, sends his son to die for us, and we remember by the post-hypnosis they call christianity that we surrender or burn. Factually, each individual entity is the Trinity. We are always connected to the Living God of indescribable Beauty, Fame, Opulence, Knowledge, and Personality, but due to the attraction to temporal joy, we forget our Beloved. Jahweh empowers the messenger, sometimes referred to as messaiah, mullah, prophet, guru, kahuna, shaman, to make personal spiritual contact to revive the self from the sleeping state. What follows is the fiyeh in the mind, the heart, and the soul, which drives the fortunate one to his Beloved. It is the ultimate truth, One God - One Love - Praise Him. Trinity is not bound by nation or sect, proven by the fact that His messengers can be prisoners, slaves, kings, soldiers, musicians, and seemingly mad folks of all races, cultures and genders. Kekela never thought of himself as Kahuna, but he spoke of a soldier from the Bayou, his Vietnam confidante during the 1968 Tet Offensive, the only person he could rely on to not lie to him while Danang was in a state of apocalypse. Kahunas are not born, they are benedicted by thier kahunas, who were benedicted by their kahunas, to the vision of the Burning Bush, the presence of their beloved one, Jahweh. Wanderer - Holy Smoke - Fiyeh! The Blessed Trinity. Kekela slipped off into trance, repeating, One Love - One God - Praise Him. His physical molecules so damaged by the agent orange that they could not support Kekela's spirit, he never returned to that body. Though it may seem that I have come to you from a world of lonliness, I can never be away from Jahweh nor from Kahuna Kekela."
Amazed by the wonderful description of the selection of the band name and of the philosophy delivered by the author of the lyrics she sings, Anoina replied, with similar gravity:
"When Mata Chula escaped di Trenchtown Bulldozers and di dread killahs, I had heard from Montego Bay musicians that she had fled South to Trinidad and her son's family even gone to di South America Mainland. However, she was with me on di plane from Jamaica. Dat ridiculuos December, hitchhiking alone from Atlanta to LA was spent laughing and joking and crying and praying, with her holding me up all di way. She even enjoyed "Flame Sky" at '72 Crater Festival with me. She has been very close since we reunited last month. Kahuna Kekela's explanation of how spirit travels without hinderance is very satisfying to hear. When I arrived in Honolulu, I knew I needed shelter because it was New Year's Eve. I took a bus to a hostel near Diamond Head because I wanted to see Santana next day at di Crater. When I walked a trail through di crater, I saw military occupation of my heritage. I saw artificial army bunkers at di park. Thousands of people also ready to join in festivities of New Year. Di vendors, hippies, kamaina, all nationalities gathered to see bands and themselves. I was reeling at being in Honolulu again after five years away. Living last year and a half in Kingston, the weather was no shock, but with all dese people around, I was all alone. I sat alone by a banyan tree away from di stage and booths, I regained my composure hearinf flutes, congas and strings in the distance. I had smoked a little reefa for di first time in a month while walking from hostel to trail with a traveler staying there, so I was drained. I felt like a mad woman because I was talking aloud to Mata Chula. She told me not to worry about a thing, because everything was going to be all right. She told me of Moses, Solomon, Jesus, and the covenant. She said I was Israelite and accepted as God's Own. She told me of Nyabinghi, Abyssinia, Zion, not what we see with our eyes, as geography, but what we see with our spiritual eyes. Jah give vision to those who have such eyes, gives truth to those who have such ears, and Love to those who have such heart. Mata Chula was not there but her voice was well heard. Mata Shaman travels in Sound. I wandered toward di stage, where I was not at all expecting to see Santana. I had seen his wonderful band many times, so when I saw di other musicians, keyboard missing and di old man in robes, I thought announcer had made a mistake. Then a tall, skinny man placed a lei round di old man's neck and grabbed a huge, double-neck guitar, played a nice jazz-type tune and spoke in amplified whispers, "Love, Devotion and Surrender". Carlos then walked on stage to di clamor of tens of thousands, and introduced tall man as Mahavisnu. The tall man then called Carlos Devadvipa, as Carlos' guitar resonated in the way only he can do. They chanted "O Love Divine" over and over and entranced di throng with Flame Sky. I caught the plane to Kahului that afternoon, still entranced, still talking to my unseen shaman, a mad woman, but no longer confused. I was God's Own, and was placed in His shelter by Mata. Chula referred to herself as just an old woman, but di truth is that age nevah imprisons her. Nor has wherever she is now prevented her from being by my side. Kahuna Kekela surely travels in sound with her."
The discussion between Martin and Anoina about the rescues they both experianced greatly intensified their love for one another. After a warm and loving visit to the elderly parents of Kekela, they drove through Makawao Highlands to their Huelo Point home. They gazed upon the old church near the muddy turnoff, built in the mid-1800s by European missionary colonialists, in the full moon light. They wondered silently in unison if the Biblical professors of institutional christianity knew about the holy smoke.
