National Geographic : 1971 Apr
feathers were eagerly sought for cloaks for the Hawaiian chiefs of old. Heavy growths of ferns, mosses, trees, and flowering plants created a lushness that had been starkly absent when we entered Halea kala Crater the day before. Halfway down the mountain, under a giant koa tree, park ranger Tom Vaughan met us with a four-wheel-drive Scout for the rest of the journey. We were on our way to Hana. Hana is an isolated village at the eastern end of Maui. It is also a district. In a 36-mile stretch along the deeply indented flowering 536 coastline-from Keanae's lava tongue on the north to Kaupo, the last outpost before the desert begins on the south-live a thousand souls. But above all Hana is a state of mind, a way of life that harks back to old Hawaii. Most of Hana's people are related to one another. The Polynesian strain is unmistak able-the strong, handsome faces, the brown skin, the love-of-life disposition, and, in a few cases, the huge bulk of the chiefs of old. Some can boast of pure Hawaiian blood (and even a little Hawaiian blood is a reason for pride in the islands).