Mad face

Mad Face

There it was today, just as awesome as it was 3 years ago. Same expression, same defensive stand. I could feel it as strongly as if the sun were were shining on my face. I met it with the same boldness that I did 3 years ago.

I was living on the Big Island of Hawaii 3 years ago. It was a beautiful sunny day and the quest for a new adventure had been in the back of my mind. This is the day, it felt right, so off we went. 

It was on that black sand beach that I first saw it. Mad face. I had read about it from the guide books but I had forgotten about it. Everyone was so friendly when tourists came to visit. The charm of the islands and the warmth of their spirits, you could feel it. It drew you in like a magnet. I have missed that Island charm since coming back to the main land. 

Mad Face, you can’t mistake it. It is a warriors pose. It is meant to warn enemy’s that they are not welcome. 

Punaluu Black Sand Beach is where I met him. I pulled up to the small parking lot on the north side of the beach. There was a restroom with the name of the beach announcing the place. I got out and looked over the beach. There on the other side were the tour busses. People from other countries excited to see new places. Camera’s were everywhere busily recording the experience. I breathed in the fresh ocean breeze and let it out again. It felt so good and the sun was so warm. I took my shoes off and walked down on the sand towards the water. This is where the protected Honu laid their eggs. Several times a year the new hatchlings would make their way to the ocean and swim away into the depths to grow and then when they matured they would return to this place and lay their eggs.

It was at this moment that I saw him. He was on the edge of the beach, right where the trees met the sand. He was standing by a lava rock wall. He was an imposing figure of a man. Not much larger than me in stature, but he was there with his mad face. I watched him for a few minutes. He was watching intently as the tourist were walking along his beach. He watched as they reached down and took a bit of sand. He watched as they pick up a piece of lava or coral and put it into their pocket. He didn’t speak with his mouth, but his face ...

Then I felt it, I knew what this was all about. It was a familiar feeling and I knew what to do. I walked directly up to him and looked straight into his eyes. I said to him, “You are the guardian of this beach.”

I am, he said.

Are you the guardian of the turtles?

I am. 

I thought so, I said to him. I have been watching you and I could feel your spirit from where I stood down at the water.

His face changed, the tension and the facial expression softened and he said, you saw right through my mad face. This is my family’s land. We are the caretakers of this place. We used to live here close to the beach, but now all that is left is this rock wall and hut. I come here almost every day and watch over the land. I watch as tourists come and disrespect the land and take our precious sand and rocks. I watch as they walk over the  sacred places and take whatever they want.

It was at that moment that I had announced that I had picked up a rock from the beach. That rock had stood out from all the others and I felt that it was a gift to me. I asked permission from the rock to take it with me. It had said yes. I told him this. He said that is different. When you ask permission and receive it. You are being invited to take that rock on a journey. A companion to share your own journey. I told him I had a gift for him. I walked back to the truck and got my bag of rocks. I had carried those rocks from the mainland. When I packed my bags, I had felt that I would be giving these ancient shaman stones to someone on the Island. I found them in a sacred place near my home in Escalante. There are millions of them if you know where to look. These were special, I had them for a long time and I knew that someone special would be receiving them. 

I found a special warrior that day on the black sand beach. That mad face became my friend. I can’t remember his name, but if you visit the black sand beach on the Big Island you may see him standing guard there on the beach. Watching and protecting his sacred family ground.

I walked up to that mad face sunday. He had the same warrior stance. I may have surprised him when I boldly shook his hand. I hope so. I want him to know that I know. He is only protecting his land, his family. I respect him and his calling. I would like to call him my friend one day...