But in an age of ethnic exclusion, racial obsession, political opportunism, culture-sniffing and koko-consciousness, Clay is someone to remember as a peacemaker. Among my brightest memories are sailing with him, and being taught elements of seamanship, on the voyaging canoe Makali'i.

There was sweetness in the man. He was a hero, too, not only to me but to the many thousands of people with whom he shared his experience and his ideals. In the Hawaiian euphemism he was an 'ulu'a, the great fish, the warrior, the passionate man. He was rather more than a paniolo. He was a valiant soldier in Vietnam (1965-68), he skippered Hokule'a to Tahiti in 1992 and Hawai'iloa, too.

Clay was one of the direct beneficiaries of the great ho'okele, the navigator Mau Piailug, whose wisdom of the stars and the heavens was unmatched. He rightly credited Mau with being an essential part of the resurgence of Hawaiian voyaging. And speaking of Mau as well as his crew and his students, Clay stressed the point to me that it was important for Hawaiians to understand inclusion.

"Makali'i came to me in a dream," Clay told me. He had the dream at Ko'a Heiau Holo Moana at Mahukona in Kohala, the voyaging heiau on the Big Island. He had a vision of building the first single-masted voyaging canoe. He went on to say, "It scared me, because of the responsibilities. So I went to see my kupuna. I asked what this dream meant."

"Build one canoe, nonpolitical," his kupuna said, helping Clay interpret his dream. "Its purpose is to teach."

"And not just teach Hawaiians," Clay said. "The kupuna said our culture should be shared, if the people are pono."

PAUL THEROUX

Construction began in June 1994, and the Makali'i was launched in February 1995. Wider and shorter than the two-masted Hokule'a, Makali'i is single-masted and (as Clay told me) a faster canoe.

Clay's kupuna had emphasized the canoe must be educational, preserving culture and teaching. That was his guiding advice.

"We teach the math and science of sailing," he told me. "We use modern techniques to learn the old ways. But also history, culture, values, sharing, kokua. I teach star identification — I hate the word 'teach,' I prefer 'share' — identifying the star lines at different times of the year."

Makali'i was significantly named. "Ke ka o Makali'i — the constellation Pleiades — is born at the time of the Makahiki," he said. "It represents bringing everyone together as a family. The canoe is the image of a family. Sailing a long distance, that canoe becomes our island. We have to live and work together in harmony."

Clay was proud of the fact that his students on the canoe were all different. He was not impressed by koko or lineage. "I don't ask who they are! I don't care," he shouted to me, to make the point. He was proud of his own Hawaiian ancestry and beliefs, but "those views I keep to myself. My responsibility is to the students. It is not fair to push these views onto them. I feel a lot of things that our people feel, but with the students I don't discuss any of this."

Some of the crew were chosen because they were difficult and could not adapt to school — at-risk teens, discipline problems, bullies, as well as mainstream students, middle-aged teachers, and niele writers like myself. Through early rising, chanting, hard work and knowledge of the canoe and the sea, he worked miracles. He loved seeing an ornery youth turn into a skillful crew member with a knowledge of stars and knots and seas.

"When they first come, they're individualists or shy. Once they get on the canoe, they learn to work together. They develop skills and become student leaders — watch captains or captains."

He made the point that others have made. That Hawai'i itself is like a canoe, that we live on water. That we need to get along. But he went further: If you are respectful and willing to work and pono, you are welcome. It did not matter who you are or where you came from, the Makali'i could be your teacher and your family.

"On the canoe, think 'island,' " Clay said. "On the island, think 'canoe.' "