‘Just do the job, don’t talk about it’

Growing up on Hawaiian homestead land in Wai­ma­nalo, Randy Awo spent much of his time at the ocean and wandering the Koo­laus. But even as the son of a game warden, he didn’t always appreciate the importance of wisely managing Hawaii’s natural resources — until he brought home a bucket of mullet.

Awo was in the sixth grade when an uncle from Wai­ahole presented him with a new throw net. Another uncle had told him about the schools of mullet that swam through Wai­ma­nalo’s nearshore waters, so Awo hauled his gear to the shore and across the sand to a stream outlet near Bellows Field Beach Park every day for two weeks before finally filling his net with fish.

He lugged the heavy bucket home, bursting with pride.

"My dad looked at it and said, ‘Sorry, son, but you can’t keep any of that fish except for one,’" said Awo, who now lives on Maui.

The mullet was kapu, out of season, but there was a single moi in the bucket. Even though the mullet were dead, Awo’s father told him to take the fish back to the sea.

"He made me cut it up into the equivalent of palu (chum), and I went down to the beach with him and we returned it to the ocean. His message to me was that none of this will go to waste because other things in the ocean will eat it — but you won’t eat it," Awo said.

"And when we were down at the beach, one of the things he told me was in order to be a good fisherman, you must understand what the laws require of you. You must understand what your responsibility is to our resources. And from that very painful and difficult lesson, it stayed with me through my life and into my career."

Awo, 62, retired from the state Department of Land and Natural Resources at the end of 2014 after spending the last four years of his career as head of the Division of Conservation and Resources Enforcement. During his 26 years with the division, mostly on Maui, he was a quietly effective advocate for Hawaii’s natural, cultural and recreational resources — a leader known for preferring collaboration over confrontation, even regarding such contentious issues as the Hawaii Superferry and Native Hawaiian fishing rights.

"What I’m happy to do and have tried to do is to resolve conflicts in such a way that it’s not always about a badge and gun," Awo said in an interview shortly before he retired. "It’s about sitting down and talking story and helping one another, listening very carefully to what a community is feeling, what an individual is feeling, and recognizing that the law isn’t always empathetic to that person or that community’s sense of being victimized by population growth or other environmental pressures affecting their resources."

QUIET AUTHORITY

With his shiny, bald scalp, dark eyes and Dick Tracy jaw, Awo projects a natural air of confidence. Those who have worked with him often remark on his calm, reflective manner.

Laura H. Thielen, DLNR director from 2007 to 2010 and now a state senator representing Windward Oahu, said Awo has a deep understanding of the value of Hawaii’s natural resources.

"He learned it as a kid from his father, and it’s just ingrained in every fiber of his being," she said.

Awo’s biggest contribution, according to Thielen, was the passion he brought to explaining the obligation to protect isle resources for future generations. "And he does that in a manner that is surprisingly gentle for such a large man but in a way that’s very firm and comes from a lot of authority, where people listen to him."

Awo often worked behind the scenes developing partnerships with local communities, interest groups and public agencies while never wavering from his commitment to uphold the law — a trait he shared with his father, George Awo, who died before seeing his son sworn in as a conservation officer.

"My father was always a very ethical person in many ways and had high expectations for all of us," Awo said.

The game wardens of his father’s time were concerned with fishing and hunting laws. Compare that with today’s conservation division officers, who have wide-ranging jurisdiction over historical and cultural sites, state lands, parks and small boat harbors, homeland security and ocean resources 3 miles out to sea.

With Awo in charge, the Maui branch was often recognized for its collaborative and creative strategies in overcoming enforcement challenges. Awo quickly shifts credit for those successes to his staff, community partners, mentors and former division officials on Maui.

"I get that from my father: ‘Eh, just do the job, don’t talk about it,’" he explained.

When the division found itself leaderless after administrator Gary Moniz retired in 2009 and former Coast Guard executive Mark Young bailed on the job after just six months, Thielen asked Awo to step in temporarily. He reluctantly agreed, knowing he would have to commute between Maui and Oahu on a weekly basis.

IN THE HOT SEAT

In his first months as chief, he dealt with safety issues surrounding alcohol-fueled parties at the Kane­ohe Sandbar, security for the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit hosted by President Barack Obama and protests that blocked the Safari Explorer tour ship from Kau­na­ka­kai Harbor on Molo­kai.

For the high-powered summit, Awo put together a security plan that resolved federal-state jurisdictional issues over the shoreline, according to former DLNR Director William Aila Jr. The Maui branch was unique in the conservation division for its policy allowing use of personal watercraft for patrols, Aila said, and Awo persuaded Oahu officers to drop their resistance to the plan by emphasizing the bigger picture of protecting the president.

The Molokai controversy required equal finesse.

"He worked with the community and various law enforcement agencies and the Coast Guard to come up with an operational plan that took into account the unique cultural challenges on Molo­kai," Aila said. "Not very many people could pull that off."

Other accomplishments cited by the former director: an undercover operation to crack down on tour operators taking visitors dangerously close to the Pahoa lava flow, and joining prosecutors to build stronger cases against gillnet rule violators, resulting in hefty fines, jail terms and a more potent deterrent.

Awo accepted Aila’s offer of a permanent position in 2013.

His rise through the ranks coincided with years of surging development and population growth that degraded Hawaii’s reefs, fisheries, water resources and open spaces. He said he first recognized the environmental impact of such growth as a youth when he traveled around Maka­puu and through what is now Hawaii Kai to attend school in Kuli­ouou during the initial phases of the massive Kaiser residential development.

"We were witness to the runoff and the filling in of wetlands," he said. "We didn’t fully understand or appreciate what it would become or how development throughout the islands would be affected by dredging up materials to create more land and putting homes on it. But as you were coming over Koko Head, looking down toward the ocean, you could slowly start to see and understand that change was afoot.

"And, of course, many years later when we have the opportunity to look back on those changes, we begin to realize that once a place is filled you can’t bring it back. You begin to understand that when a reef has suffered from runoff, it’s extremely difficult to reverse those patterns."

WORKING TOGETHER

One of his last cases as chief was the December arrest of four Molo­kai fishermen who are charged with robbery and terroristic threatening after allegedly boarding a vessel occupied by several Oahu divers. The fishermen reportedly felt the divers were raiding the local fishery. The case is pending.

Similar tensions have erupted between fishermen on Nii­hau and Kauai, and Awo expects more conflicts as largely Hawaiian areas bristle against laws that say the state’s natural resources belong to all.

"More and more communities are saying, ‘Stop, wait,’" he said. "On Molo­kai they view their resources as part of their subsistence culture and definitely connected to their survival. They have high unemployment, fewer job opportunities and a greater understanding of and appreciation that ‘What we gather sustains our families, therefore, we are different.’ And so when people from the outside come in that do not understand or appreciate that lifestyle, there are these rising tensions: ‘If you don’t get it, we’re going to take the law into our hands, and we’re going to help you understand that these are the consequences of your actions.’"

It is for state conservation officers, he said, to respect these growing frustrations while making it clear that unlawful behavior will not be tolerated. "Instead, we encourage all communities to work within the law to change the law to better serve their unique interests and challenges."

As an example, he cited the creation of the state’s first community-based subsistence fishing area in Haena, Kauai. Over the course of more than eight years, community leaders, fishermen and cultural practitioners worked with DLNR to develop rules protecting the fishery and traditional activities while recognizing Haena’s waters as a public resource.

Also during his short time as chief, a community fisheries enforcement unit was activated for Maui’s north shore waters with seed money from the Harold K.L. Castle Foundation and Conservation International.

Kuhea Asiu of Wai­luku was involved in the Makai Watch component of the pilot project.

"Randy is so genuine about his love for his home, for the resources and for the people who rely on those resources. You can’t fake that," she said. "He obviously has a strong cultural foundation and values and practices that were passed down to him from his father, uncles and grandparents, and that has shown strong throughout his career."

LESSONS FOR LIFE

On a recent Sunday afternoon, a relaxed Awo sat under a kukui tree in the backyard of his modest home in Wai­ehu Kou, a Hawaiian homestead with views of the West Maui Mountains and a short drive from the shore where he still surfs and fishes.

Surrounded by his grandchildren, he lifted a limp, slimy octopus from a 5-gallon bucket and turned it inside out, picking at it in preparation for making squid luau for a family celebration. He explained the cleaning technique to the young ones in the same even, patient tone he used when representing his division at public meetings and legislative hearings.

Since retiring, he has been spending more time with his wife, Momi, a social worker at the Queen Lili‘u­oka­lani Children’s Center, their three children and five grandchildren. Like his father before him, Awo enjoys passing on his knowledge and values to the youngest members of his ohana.

"One of the things I want to do soon is to redo an imu in the backyard and start teaching them how to use an imu, how to control the fire by the amount of stones you use and what you cook, and help them understand why we have banana in the backyard — because you need that for halii (a covering) to lay over the rocks to protect the meat from burning and at the same time create steam for the cooking.

"It’s to connect them to the idea that everything we’re growing in the yard has a purpose and to help them understand their place in the natural world that surrounds us and have reverence for all life and all things sacred to Hawaii Nei.

"We start these lessons at home, on the back porch and in the yard. So it’s going to be busy — good-kine busy."