Hawai'i

Hawai‘i’s Vanishing Lake

By J.M. Buck

Big Island Weekly,

15 January, 2014

Perched below the summit of Mauna Kea at 13,020 feet amidst an arid, rocky, oxygen-poor landscape lies one of Hawaii’s more unusual natural wonders: Lake Waiʻau. But if you want to see the only glacially formed lake in the mid-Pacific, you’d better do it soon. The lake, whose surface area normally fluctuates between 1.2–1.7 acres, has been disappearing at an alarmingly rapid rate since 2010. As of September 2013, the seventh highest lake in the US had shrunk to 115 square meters (0.03 acres), two-percent of its normal size. What was once a small, gem-like, green lake with an average depth of 10 feet is today little more than a large, 1-foot-deep puddle.

The Office of Mauna Kea Management (OMKM) has been working in conjunction with the Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) Division of Forestry and Wildlife (DOFAW), the state entity that oversees the management of the Mauna Kea Ice Age Natural Area Reserve, and Hawaii Volcanoes Observatory (HVO) to attempt to solve the mystery of the vanishing lake. The lake’s decreasing size has been monitored since 2010 through satellite imagery and repetitive aerial photography. The results are startling; a dramatic decrease in the lake’s level between October 2012 and September 2013 is starkly evident.

Historically, the rise and fall of water levels at Lake Waiʻau, which is situated within the core of the Pu’u Waiʻau cinder cone, have been correlated with precipitation levels. According to a report released by HVO on November 2, 2013, a several month period of intense drought that began in early 2010 followed by consecutive years of below average rainfall may be the culprit for the dramatic decrease in Lake Waiʻau’s level. As of December 31, 2013, Hawaii Drought Monitor data still listed the Mauna Kea region as “abnormally dry,” the lowest drought rating on a 5-tier scale. Another hypothesis proposes that the lake could be shrinking because it is a “perched” body of water; water gathers in a depression and is held by an impermeable substrate whose stratigraphy is composed of layers of silt clay and ash. According to the HVO report, there are proposals that permafrost underlies and surrounds the lakebed, and retreating permafrost resultant of climate change could be a factor. According to a June 19, 2003 article released in HVO’s online publication, Volcano Watch, Alfred Woodcock, who discovered a limited area of permafrost approximately 10 meters below ground level at nearby Pu’u Wekiu, put the permafrost proposal forth. No permafrost has ever been confirmed to exist at Pu’u Waiʻau, and, according to the report, “It seems unlikely that permafrost could survive beneath a Mauna Kea lake, because the average air temperature is too warm much of the year, and the lake would melt the underlying ice.” The bottom line is that researchers don’t yet know what is causing Lake Waiʻau’s rapid disappearance. Native Hawaiians, however, have their own philosophy regarding the lake’s decline.

Lake Waiʻau has been the site of sacred Hawaiian cultural practices since the sun went critical. Due to the lake’s high elevation, the waters of Lake Waiʻau are considered by Hawaiians to be the most sacred in the Hawaiian Islands. According to a resolution drafted by the Waimea Civic Club, Waiʻau’s water was and is used for healing and cultural practices, and families with genealogical connections to Mauna Kea use the lake itself as a repository for their children’s piko (umbilical cords). Kumu Larry Kimura, Assistant Professor of Hawaiian Language and Hawaiian Studies at UH Hilo, is a member of one of those families. “Lake Waiʻau is and has always been a prominent geographic feature on the summit area of Maunakea ([n]ote… the spelling of Maunakea) so from olden times, before there were any modern roads, trails went to and by Waiʻau,” wrote Kimura in an email correspondence. “Hawaiian families throughout the islands would be careful to keep that small bit of their babies umbilical cord once it dropped off the belly to deposit in each family’s own traditional places. For my family, Lake Waiʻau is our repository. ‘Piko’ is the word for the umbilicus, and it can also refer to the crown or summit area such as Maunakea. The ‘piko’ connects us to the source of our beginnings and as Hawaiians we respect and honor our genealogical connections in this small way of caring for that little piece of our infants’ piko.”

The tiny lake, guarded by Mo‘oinanea, the water spirit of Lake Waiʻau, is viewed by Native Hawaiians as a cosmological epicenter, with Mauna Kea as a whole representing the fount of all life in Hawaii, including humans and the islands themselves. The University of Hawai‘i’s 2009 Mauna Kea Comprehensive Management Plan quotes noted Hawaiian historian and researcher Kepa Maly: “The mountain is a respected elder, a spiritual connection to one’s gods.” The same paragraph makes clear the cultural importance of Mauna Kea through the words of Hawaiian cultural practitioner Pualani Kanaka‘ole Kanahele: “Mauna Kea is the first-born to us. That’s where our roots start; that’s where our island begins; that’s where the first rain from Wākea hits. It is our mountain. That’s where the first sunlight that rises every morning hits. That mountain is first for everything we have … And so, because Mauna Kea is the first-born, we need to mālama (care for) Mauna Kea.” In other words, Mauna Kea is the embodiment of Hawaii and the Hawaiian people; Lake Waiʻau is the life-giving wellspring emanating from Mauna Kea, thus the life-source of the Hawaiian people. The mountain itself, touching the heavens, is revered as a sacred altar through which contact is made with the gods. Mauna Kea embodies the union of Wākea, the Sky Father, and Papahānaumoku (often referred to as Papa), the mother goddess who gave birth to the Islands. And like our children and elders, Mauna Kea must be cared for in appropriate fashion. Many Hawaiians attribute the lake’s recession to a perceived disrespect of the summit, of the temple of Mauna Kea. “In my lifetime, I have never seen Waiʻau so dry,” wrote Kimura. “To me it sends a message to the world of being wary of putting our conveniences ahead of the sources of our creation.”

Could it be that Mo‘oinanea is saddened by all of the construction on the summit and the unintentional desecration of her watery home? Has she just given up and left Lake Waiʻau? What will it mean for Hawaiians if Lake Waiʻau vanishes completely? Kimura says that though the lake is very low, it cannot vanish. “Waiʻau can never disappear completely because its placement is beyond the physical, he wrote. “It is spiritually and culturally permanent. It will continue to be my family’s place to maintain our connections to the sources of our creation.”

The birthplace of Hawaii and its people are in trouble. Despite the undoubtedly good intentions of those who “manage” Mauna Kea, many Native Hawaiians cultural practitioners feel that their place of worship, their source of life – their first-born – should be left alone. Mauna Kea is not just a mountain; Lake Waiʻau is not just some water that makes for a good tourist attraction. As stated eloquently in the Mauna Kea Comprehensive Management Plan: “…Mauna Kea is sacred. Mauna Kea is where heaven, earth and stars find union. Not just any heaven, but Wākea, not just any earth, but Papahānaumoku, and not just any constellation of twinkling lights, but Ho‘ohōkūkalani, whose children descend and return to the stars.”