Danny Akaka, the resort’s resident expert in Hawaiian history and culture, is in high demand. No matter how many people file into the Hale I‘ike cultural center, each one of them receives the full benefit of his beaming smile and gracious attention. Akaka is the embodiment of aloha: generous, unhurried, and brimming with love for Hawai‘i and her people. Diplomacy runs in Akaka’s genes. His father was a respected U.S. Senator, his uncle coined the phrase “aloha spirit,” and his grandmother couldn’t let a tired taro farmer pass by her house without offering refreshment and a shady place to rest.

The last time I attended the Twilight at Kalāhuipua‘a concert series, a beautiful Hawaiian woman jumped up from the audience to dance the hula. Barefoot, with a bright red hibiscus tucked behind her ear, she knew every step by heart. The crowd showered her with applause as she swayed in perfect time to the lilting melodies of old Hawaii.

Hawaiians have honed their relationship to the sea over many centuries. Daring to ride the biggest waves, sail outrigger canoes across Earth’s largest ocean, and dive into the sea’s salty depths, Hawaiian watermen and women have shown the rest of the world what is possible. Drawing upon this ancient expertise, guests are invited to paddle, pedal and perform by way of Kainalu Sports.

Hiking through Kalāhuipua‘a Historic Park, we stopped along the trail to appreciate the variety of petroglyphs that depict primitive life symbols and provide a view into Hawaiʻi’s rich and ancient history. The area also offers around 40 natural caves composed of lava tubes and partially collapsed lava bubbles that are perfect for exploring, and we were in search of one cave in particular – the mythical “spirit cave”. A short hike from our retreat at Mauna Lani, I was tipped off about the park’s unusual cave during a discussion with Uncle Danny, the resort’s resident expert in Hawaiian history and culture. 

Fat silver fish turn figure eights beneath the surface of Lāhuipua‘a fishpond. Every now and then I catch the flash of an eel’s tail disappearing into the shadows. A slender rock wall encircles the five-acre coastal pond. It’s one of seven ancient fishponds at Mauna Lani—waters once cherished by Hawaiian kings and fishermen alike. Watching ripples spread across the surface of Lāhuipua‘a, I imagine the hands that built its wall eight hundred years ago.