As a young boy growing up in Hawaii, I was introduced to various legends and ancient Hawaiian beliefs through Hawaiian Monarchy classes and various other elders in my life. In May of 1989, I took a field trip out to the western most point of the island of O'ahu, a place called Kaena Point. About a dozen or so of my own classmates and our science teacher made the trip by bus from Waialua, past the Dillingham Airfield and Mokuleia area to a point where the road ends, blocked by a large iron fence and humongous boulders. We made the rest of the trip on foot.
As it was already late in the afternoon, the sun was on its way down. Looking out toward the horizon, we watched it dip lower as the dusky sky started to turn a vibrant gold and purple. As we walked along, a couple of my classmates (who were twin brothers) jogged up ahead, and decided to take a higher trail through the terrain. They were notorious for horse-playing and playing pranks on each other from time to time. They were funny and entertaining to watch.
At some point, my attention was taken away from the brothers, and I became thoroughly focused on the beautiful surroundings. I watched the waves break way outside on the outer reefs, follow them all the way to shore, where they would slam into the tide pools, and launch a white spray of salt water into the air. Black a'ama crab and half-shell opihi would cling to the rocks as hard as they could to try and withstand the power of the waves. Every once in awhile, a frigate bird would fly overhead and turn our attention skyward.
Suddenly, something caught my eye on the horizon. About 50 yards away, a figure of a man, silhouetted against the sun, climbed up onto what appeared to be a cliff or rock. He appeared to be alone. I watched as he raised his hands skyward and then jumped off the rock, disappearing into the space below. As he jumped, I yelled, "Hey, look!" and pointed his way. A few of my classmates saw something drop from the rock, one of them asking who it was. Someone else thought it was one of the brothers playing games, but when we called out to them, they came running up from behind us.
We ran over to the cliff and found out it was an oddly colored white rock jutting out of the dirt and sand. Oddly enough, no signs of footprints in the sand or in the area where the man had jumped down to. From the cliff to the approximate landing point, it had to be a ten-foot drop; there should have been some sign of impact made in the ground below -- but nothing was found. Being teenagers, we blew it off, trying to make the most out of it by scaring each other, saying silly stuff like, "Ooooh, he's gonna get you!" or "Wow! You must've smoked something before class!"
The very next week, I wanted to find out more about what was seen. I was told to talk to "Kahuna John," the local Hawaiiana expert, who was also a volunteer campus patrol officer at the high school. We all thought John was a "special" person, but something told me that John would have the answers to my questions.
John began by telling me that the ancient Hawaiians believed that when a person dies, the spirit leaves the body and goes through a complicated journey to seek ultimate rest. One of the steps a spirit took in this journey was called, Leinakauhane, a leaping point for the spirit. They were almost always big bluffs or cliffs looking westward over the sea. He said that near this place, there were guiding spirits that would assist a spirit to either leap towards ultimate salvation or stop and return to the body. In other words, if it wasn't time for that spirit to leave the body for good, it would be sent back to revive the body and live on. Once the spirit leaps, it is then passed onto other spirit guides who assist with final judgment; the soul could either be sent back to wander amongst the living, or sent to Milu, the underworld, or to Heaven.