Posted on: Sunday, October 28, 2001
Hawai'i Ways, Hawai'i Days
Summer days in the fields far from easy
By Howard Oda
Let's say it's 1943-44, you are 14 years young and it is summer. Working in the pineapple field is not a choice but a requirement. The process is the same as it was the year before. The job application is the same. All you do is sign and you're hired.
It is the same whether it is Hawaiian Pine (Dole) or Del Monte (CPC) Libby at Kipapa or Experiment Station where the pineapple fields were located at the lower half of Wahiawa. Too young for the cannery, what else would one do for the entire summer?
You report with your "bango" number and was issued gloves and goggles that are charged to you. The veterans show that they have theirs, so it's only the "babies" or the newly hired that are given the once over.
On the first dark morning, the field supervisor calls your name and assigns you to a "Luna." Generally, there are three gangs. The picking gang, the "pulepule" or sucker and slip gang and the lowly "hoehana" gang. The "Luna" is king.
The Picking Gang are issued an over-the-shoulder canvas picking bag with a knife. This is really "big time" for you are given the opportunity to make more than the 24 cents an hour. The more you pick, cut and trim, and crate the pines, the more you make. The rates per crate are determined by the yield expectancy of the field.
Now how do you expect a kid to understand that? All that mattered was that it was hard work. The plants and fruits were not genetically controlled as they are today. The plants then were just as tall or taller than you were and the fruits were three times larger. If you could carry ten of the fruits without tripping over the fallen plants, you did good. Digging out the fruit without dropping your load was almost impossible. By now you knew every cuss word known to man. Haul them to the end of the row, cut the crowns off and neatly pack them in the crates, making certain that the Luna chalked your "bango" number on each of your crates. I did this for a short while and requested a transfer when I found out the camp girls outdid and outlasted me in every phase of the operation. "Hilahila," but true.
The work of the "pulepule" or sucker and slip gang was much easier. You cut the suckers or slips and place them in a bunch on the plants to dry. Plenty of time to talk story with your neighbor in the next row.
The "hoehana" gang was where the Luna had his pick of the entire crew. He was judge and jury in selecting who went where the next day. Weeding in the open field was hot, boring and the water can was far away. Generally, this gang worked in fields where the plants were knee high. This was a tremendous disadvantage to those needing to answer the call of nature. If there was a gulch or a matured field nearby, the problem was solved. But the "hurry up" time was enough to drive the Luna crazy. I remember the wahines had burlap bags attached to stakes for their business. It was very wise to always have tissue paper with you.
KauKau time or Bento time was when we sat together to eat. The menu was generally the same from day to day. My bento can usually consisted of rice, takuwan, slices of choriso and eggs. Lots and lots of water.
Time stood still in the afternoon until you spot the red dust of the pick-up truck a mile away. Pau hana time.
With the wind blowing in your hair and with your shirt unbuttoned, you finally reach your truck stop. You get off and walk home for there is no one to offer you a ride. Dust your clothes and hang them neatly. Jump into your shorts for Butchie, my dog, is waiting for our daily swim in "da rivah." A bath, dinner, a bike ride up the street to see the gang, home by 8 p.m., listen to the radio, up and ready by 5 a.m. .
Ah ... summer! Eh! Maybe next year I'll be eligible to apply at the cannery or a job that would equal the top pay of 50 cents an hour. Maybe the war will be over and things will be better ... maybe.
Howard Oda lives in Waipahu.
