When trade winds would desert us, my uncle used to declare, "Ho, da hot."
Like many of us who have lived here for a long time, he’s likely saying this more often these days.
The northeast breezes that cool the islands, clear the sky of Kilauea’s stinky vog and human-produced smog and, most important, force moist air to release rain as clouds push over mountain ranges seem to be dwindling.
A study by University of Hawaii scientists last year found that in the past four decades, northeast trades have decreased. There were fewer days when trades dried sweaty brows and tickled tourists’ faces as they traipsed through Waikiki and points beyond.
Their loss is evident in more frequent vog alerts as rotten-egg scented sulfur dioxide hazes mountain ridges and settles in valleys as if from New Year’s fireworks.
The scientists aren’t quite sure what’s behind the change. Climate change aka global warming? A slight variation in the sun’s intensity? Erosion of the Koolaus? Or maybe fewer monarch butterflies migrating on the North American continent?
Maybe they will come up with an answer or answers, but as it is, all they know is there has been a significant drop of beneficial air movement since the early 1970s.
So what are humans to do? Even if the monarch butterfly notion turns out to be true, the immensity of a solution leaves us with little to do but try to mitigate the decline in water resources.
Government officials lately have come to realize that protecting watersheds yields economic benefits. Without adequate water supplies, further profitable development — whether for sprawling mega-housing projects on the Ewa Plain or for mega-high rises in the tight spaces of Kakaako — cannot be sustained, if imported buyers of houses and million-dollar sky-box condos can’t take a shower.
Much-touted but little-seen growth in the agricultural industry also cannot be had without water. Neither can expansion of the visitor industry.
Across the globe, water wars are increasing. On the mainland, competing interests have states battling in federal courts for shares of flows through rivers and streams. Oyster fishers in Florida have been at odds with upstream Georgia where the broadening city of Atlanta and expanding agriculture claim water oyster fisheries need to stay alive.
In California, water-hungry oil-fracking operations compete with farmers not only for the liquid, but for preservation of groundwater sources from contamination.
Kansas and Colorado have been fighting over Arkansas River water for decades, suing each other for the take, resulting in complicated rules and expensive monitoring to assure no one is getting more than their share.
Hawaii battles are not with other states. Instead, the conflict has been internal, as in the case of small taro farmers versus sugar companies and county agencies that sell stream water to businesses and homeowners.
While conservation and recycling efforts can help, a development-stimulated population will put a greater strain on resources. And though government agencies swear there is enough water for all, the butterfly effect could be telling us otherwise. We can wing it or do some serious thinking about the future.
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Cynthia Oi can be reached at coi@staradvertiser.com.
