Ka Puʻuwai (The Heart)

To truly appreciate A-Bay, we have to look past the sand and sun. We have to understand that we are walking on sacred ground, a place shaped by a deep understanding of the land and sea. This isn't just a beach. It's a library of Hawaiian history, and the fishponds are its most precious books.

A World in a Watershed: The Waikōloa Ahupuaʻa

Before we can talk about the fishponds, we have to understand the world they belonged to. Ancient Hawaiians organized their society around a brilliant system of land division called the ahupuaʻa. Think of it as a perfect, self-sustaining neighborhood. An ahupuaʻa was typically a wedge-shaped slice of land that ran from the mountains (mauka) all the way down to the sea (makai), often following the natural boundaries of a watershed.

This design was pure genius. Within one ahupuaʻa, a community had access to everything it needed to thrive. The cool, wet uplands provided koa and ʻōhiʻa wood for building houses and canoes, and fertile ground for growing certain crops. The lowlands, or kula, were for farming staples like sweet potato and dryland taro. And the coastal area, the makai region, provided fish, salt, and access to the ocean highway. Anaehoʻomalu Bay is the coastal jewel of the Waikōloa ahupuaʻa, which is itself part of the larger district, or moku, of Kohala.

The Royal Pantry: The Story of Kuʻualiʻi and Kahapapa Fishponds

The story of the two magnificent fishponds that define the backdrop of A-Bay begins with the name of the place itself. Anaehoʻomalu translates to "restricted mullet" or "protected mullet". This isn't just a poetic name. It's a literal description of the ponds' purpose. For centuries, this was a royal pantry, an advanced aquaculture facility dedicated to raising the prized ʻanae (mullet) and other fish exclusively for the aliʻi, the ruling chiefs of Hawaiʻi.

The very concept of the Hawaiian fishpond, or loko iʻa, is tied to a powerful moʻolelo. Oral traditions tell of Kūʻula-kai, a man from Maui who possessed mana kupuna—supernatural powers over the fish of the sea. He was said to be able to summon fish at will. Kūʻula built the very first fishpond, and for his incredible skill, he was deified and is still venerated today as the Hawaiian god of fishing. All across the islands, fishermen would build sacred shrines called koʻa, often marked by an upright stone (pohaku), to honor Kūʻula and ask for his blessing of abundance. The ponds at A-Bay are a physical manifestation of this ancient and sacred tradition.

The two ponds you see today are Kuʻualiʻi, the larger of the two, and the smaller Kahapapa. They are a specific type of pond known as a loko kuapā, meaning a pond with a seawall. This wall, or kuapā, is an engineering marvel, built by hand with thousands of lava rocks stacked perfectly without any mortar. But the true genius lies in a feature unique to Hawaiian fishponds: the mākāhā, or sluice gate.

Imagine a grate, traditionally woven from ʻōhiʻa branches, set within a channel in the seawall. The gaps in the grate were just wide enough to allow small, juvenile fish to swim from the open ocean into the calm, nutrient-rich waters of the pond. Inside, they would feast on the algae and seaweed cultivated by the pond keepers, growing fat and healthy. But once they grew to a certain size, they were too big to fit back through the mākāhā and return to the sea. It was a brilliant, self-stocking system that ensured a constant supply of fresh fish.

Kamehameha's Swift Runners

This supply was especially important to the aliʻi of the Kohala and Kona districts, most famously King Kamehameha I. Kamehameha the Great was born in North Kohala and unified the Hawaiian Islands, and these fishponds were part of his domain. The stories passed down through generations are incredible. They tell of the kūkini, a class of elite, swift-footed royal runners. When the king was in residence at his court in Kailua-Kona, a kūkini would be dispatched. Fish would be harvested from Kuʻualiʻi, wrapped in wet seaweed to preserve their freshness, and the runner would sprint down the coastal trail, delivering the king's dinner while it was still fresh from the water. When you walk the paths around these ponds, you are treading in the footsteps of these legendary runners.

This entire operation was overseen by a kiaʻi loko, a pond keeper. This was a position of great honor and responsibility, requiring a deep, scientific knowledge of the tides, the seasons, fish behavior, and water flow. The kiaʻi loko was both a biologist and an engineer, responsible for maintaining the walls, clearing silt, and managing the fish stocks for the chief.