Our Honolulu
Menehune held down the fort

By Bob Krauss
Advertiser Staff Writer

I hope you won't take this story the wrong way. The teachers who have been on strike are in a sensitive position. So are the principals and cafeteria workers.

That's why some of the most heart-warming stories about the strike have gone unreported.

For example, who do you suppose fed the experimental mice in the laboratories while the university professors were on strike? Nobody will admit to crossing the picket line. The menehune did it.

The strike gave menehune a lot of work. There were school gardens to water so the students' tomatoes wouldn't be dead when school starts again. Menehune sneaked in and did it.

Mililani had a prom last weekend. You can imagine how much money was spent on gowns and limos and corsages. Not to have the prom would have been a lifetime tragedy.

But who's going to be chaperone and serve food in the cafeteria when you can't cross the picket line? That's where menehune come in handy.

I watched a small army of menehune at work on the waterfront while they helped save an adventure at sea for some Makakilo students.

The students had signed up as crew members on the Falls of Clyde for a voyage to San Francisco with a cargo of sugar. The voyage is part of a living history program run by the Hawai'i Maritime Center and the Ocean Institute at Dana Point, Calif.

A voyage like this is not taken lightly. The students had to learn about ships and sugar plantations and history. In school they were divided into work gangs: galley slaves, boatswains, riggers, deck hands and line handlers.

The trip was postponed once because of the strike. Not to sail after so much preparation would be unjust. So menehune helped out.

Each student brought his or her own duffel bag, which looked suspiciously like a plastic rubbish bag, with a change of clothes, jacket, rain slicker, cup, bowl and spoon.

The menehune were doing their best to be invisible while I interviewed them.

"This is one of the most outstanding programs I've seen," said one of them. "I told myself, no way are we going to miss this. We'll find some way to go."

Student Brittney Ervin said, "My 15-year-old sister didn't think we'd come because of the strike. But my parents said, 'Anything is possible.' "

Suddenly Mr. Fleming, the first mate, strode down the gangplank, a scowl on his face: "All right. On your feet."

The students lined up in their work gangs, backs straight. This was serious business. The mate glowered down at them: "What a bunch of scallawags you are. But I need a crew. When I give an order, you answer, 'Aye, aye, Mr. Fleming.' Is that clear?"

A faint, "Aye, aye, Mr. Fleming," issued from the crew.

"Speak up, I can't hear you," the mate roared.

"AYE, AYE, MR. FLEMING."

The voyage had begun.

To sign your class up for a voyage call 521-1958 or e-mail kwyman@ocean-institute.org.