Guiding force behind church’s restoration recounts site’s start, renewal

Huialoha Church marks its 155th birthday this year and so it is fitting to celebrate this historic structure in one of these columns. It is perhaps more fitting to recognize the person who was the major mover behind the restoration of Huialoha, Carl Lindquist, who died with his wife, Rae, tragically in a flash flood five years ago on Thanksgiving Day.

Link, the name he was best known by, had a deep affection for the Hana Coast and, when he discovered this small church in ruins, he marshaled the resources and the manpower to bring it back to life beginning in 1978. Link called himself a writer/amateur historian. He was much more than that.

What follows are his words describing the church and its restoration that appeared in a book titled "Pohaku: The Art & Architecture of Stonework in Hawai‘i," published in 2003. He began:

Na leo o kamakani ke kehu a na pohaku on Mokulau.

(The voices of the wind are captured in the stones at Mokulau.)

"Thrust out into the unforgiving sea and host to a domineering, omnipresent wind, the Mokulau Peninsula, in the Kaupo District of the Hana Coast is a rugged, yet captivatingly beautiful place. Literally translated as ‘many islands,’ the name Mokulau is probably derived from the collection of wave-washed rock islets located just off the eastern shore. In the lore of ancient Hawaii, this was the home of a powerful king and a renowned surfing spot. Today it is best known as the location of Huialoha Congregational Church.

"Approaching Mokulau along a dirt road from the Hana side at the crest of Mokulau Point, the first glimpse is one of radiant white walls of the sanctuary. It is easy to imagine how a servant of God might have chosen such a location for a house of worship. From this vantage point, the drama of the Kaupo Coast is defined in the most powerful visual terms. On one side is the steep climb of Haleakala, sweeping up across majestic Manawainui Valley to the sudden cleft of Kaupo Gap and beyond. On the other side is the vivid forefront of the peninsula itself, waves tossing themselves ashore, to a kinetic infinity of whitecaps and deep blue ocean.

"Choosing to build a church in such a spiritual place, while overcoming the myriad challenges of both man-made and natural, was a daunting prospect. In his annual report, one minister of the day lamented, ‘The members of the congregation may bring to the collection kapa, a fish, or a woven mat, but only rarely do they bring any currency.’ As tangible evidence of the degree of the problem, after Huialoha was completed, it took another ten years to raise the funds to finally purchase a bell.

"The abundance of rounded, water-washed stones at the ocean’s edge provided an ample and accessible supply of materials for the foundation and thick walls of the structure. Cement was unheard of in this part of the world, and while coral could be crushed and burned for making a crude mortar, the lack of a protective reef off Mokulau meant that only infrequent bits of coral ever washed ashore.

"Thus divers, working at times in many fathoms of water, were employed to dive for the coral with specially woven baskets while canoes waited on the surface to transport the precious material. The coral-based mortar mixture also required a ready supply of fresh water. Punahoa Spring and Manawainui Stream run close by, but only run sporadically.

"It took over five dedicated years of strenuous labor to build Huialoha. Most church records indicate that construction was completed in 1859, although in commenting on the dedication of Palapala Hoomau Church in Kipahulu, the Hana Station Report of 1862 stated, ‘The church people of Kaupo have also nearly completed a similar building, having raised more than the remaining amount needed for a great feast held for the purpose.’

"At its peak the congregation numbered several hundred. Old timers interviewed many years ago recalled when there were so many in attendance that two ‘standing room only’ services were held each Sunday, with worshipers gathered outside each of the six windows. As times changed and the economic lure of sugar plantation jobs and other employment tempted many Kaupo residents to move away, the number of church members began to dwindle. By the early 1950s, regular services were no longer being held, and the sanctuary, or the abandoned church at Kaupo as it was called in Haleakala Park literature of the time, had fallen into major disrepair.

"An ambitious restoration project was launched in 1978, with additional work performed in 1984 and 1991. Services are now held only on major Christian holidays. The collection box and a series of journals in which visitors record their comments provide mute testimony to the thousands of yearly visitors. Leafing through the pages of these books, and reading the sometimes intense feelings that have been inscribed there, one realizes the spiritual legacy of Huialoha lives on; that in touching its walls one can still feel the energy and dedication that went into their building; and that in the wind one can still hear devoted Hawaiian voices raised in songs of praise."