The watershed of Ala Wai and waiting for The Flood

Ala Wai Canal

Ala Wai Promenade

Dredging at Ala Wai Canal

I've done more walking than writing about bridges and streams lately.

Certainly more photos than words. But I couldn't give up on the mystery. Maybe because I grew up in this neighborhood, the names matter more. The name of the stream that delves between Coolidge and Hausten Streets, rolls under Kapiolani Blvd., and reappears at Marco Polo condominium, and eventually leaks out into the Ala Wai Canal. Modern planners call it the "Hausten Ditch."

I'd seen the name long ago and forgot it long ago. So my online quest began. I even inquired with Peter Young, one of the foremost (my opinion) historians of the Hawaiian islands. He kept my fire going, kindly sending me an 1881 map of the south shore. No answer to my question, but he pushed me closer.

Eventually, I came across a bunch of cool information about the area, the watershed, the Moiliili Karst, the natural spring at the Willows Restaurant that is very close to the origin location of the stream in question. Along the way, a PDF here, a study there and it became so clear.

This is not just about bridges and the waterway we did our share of crabbing as kids in during the 1970s. In 2015, major flooding hit the surrounding areas. The source, of course, was these streams that poured down incredible amounts of rain into the main streams. What complicated things was that the streams aren't exactly that anymore. They are built, not natural, and the watershed that was so lush and productive a century ago isn't structured to handle flashflood-level downpours.

Makiki Ditch, Kapiolani Blvd. bridge

In fact, the main streams in my area were herded into man-made ditches, basically. If anything is called a ditch or canal, the efficiency of directing rainwater to the ocean is good — except when it's not.

Makiki Stream is actually Kanaha Stream as it arrives in Makiki, flowing west to east. It is actually hard to find unless you look carefully. A half-block mauka of Wilder Ave.. it runs parallel to Wilder Ave from Pensacola to Makiki Street before bending south. It is narrow. It is man-made.

Waihi and and Lua‘alaea Streams connect at the foot of the Koolaus deep in Manoa Valley, forming Manoa Stream. By the time that waterway meets Palolo Stream — fed by Pukele and Wai‘omao Streams — it washes under the Old Waialae Road and down to the Ala Wai Canal. That path is man-made, however. That's why it is officially Manoa-Palolo Drainage Canal. It was built to handle excess rain, except when it can't.

The old map I saw shows streams of entirely different names. Manoa Stream was actually Kali‘a and Palolo was Pahoa. They did combine, but their pathway was much farther east. Same with Makiki Stream, which didn't empty out near the current Kalakaua Ave. bridge. Instead, Makiki Stream carried on deep into Waikiki, emptying at area named Pi‘inaio. (Similar with the other streams, which take on different names wherever they exited into the ocean.)

It was the same theme. They naturally deposited into the watershed of Ala Wai (or Waikiki), where lo‘i and loko, and later, rice patties, flourished. So many dozens, hundreds of names on lots in those 1880s. Almost all Hawaiian surnames with a few Caucasian and Chinese dotting the landscape. Pawaa was Pawaa, but there was no Moiliili. It was Paakea, and within that region was a spot called Kahaapea, named after a chief. The street next to the Moiliili Community Center still bears his name.

So, locating and mapping streams in a 19th-century watershed had to be extremely difficult. I kept hunting. Maybe the stream I was searching for in the pages of history is or was sourced from Kumulae Spring, where the Willows once had a tropical Eden. But again, the Hausten Ditch isn't an exact line to the Willows, though it's within 50 or 100 yards. Maybe the underground caves still pump spring water up?

Unlikely. UH researchers found that the only cave still relatively healthy after decades of construction and destruction lies under University Ave. OK. I kept clicking and hoping. Finally, a eureka moment. A 2014 feasibility study by the US Army Corps of Engineers spelled it out. Leave it to those gentlemen to be as exact as possible.

No. 9 on the TSP (Tentatively Selected Plan) lists Hausten Ditch as part of the flood control measures. Then, on page 30: Alanaio Stream Channel (Hausten Ditch). Victory. A small victory. The 1881 map had no indication of Alanaio Stream, and in fact, that area was relatively vacant compared to the rest of the watershed. However, it was close to McCully Street, which was developing. "Lease to L. McCully," the writing reads on the map.

Manoa-Palolo Drainage Canal bridge, Date St.

The development of areas close to Waikiki and Ala Wai — Punchbowl was growing quickly — meant that streams were becoming blocked off. The watershed was not getting fed as much. Eventually, the city needed to build controlled water ways. Makiki Stream was revamped into Makiki Ditch. Alanaio, at least on the mauka side of Kapiolani Blvd., got the hand-built wall treatment, much like Makiki Ditch, but much shorter. The Manoa-Palolo Drainage Canal funneled those two streams into a different direction. And, of course, the Ala Wai Canal became the target for these funnels.

It has worked. It just hasn't worked perfectly. Different ideas were tossed into the ring, but the city opted for old-fashioned dredging. During the 2000s, then-Gov. Ben Cayetano and his staff pushed to reclaim Ala Wai Golf Course, a massive and crucial part of the original watershed. He offered a potential new course at Sand Island.

The golfers prevailed.

At one time, residents young and young at heart in Palolo Valley united to caretake for their feeder streams, Pukele and Wai‘omao. The project lost crucial funding, and momentum was lost.

Now, one study estimates that as much as $397 million in damages could be suffered with the next big flashflood in the city. The flood mitigation plan calls for drastic changes. Residents living in Palolo Valley, near Pukele Stream, face eminent domain and are fighting back. (See links below.)

So, I keep walking. Taking my photos. Getting my exercise. Wondering how and why the future of this place will happen. The safety of residents from the mountains to the sea could be at stake, but without a clear vision and complete unity, change may never come.

Alanaio. A small stream. They can call it a ditch, but it remains the only pathway to the Ala Wai built without limestone and concrete. By nature only.

Curt Sanburn: A Walk Along Palolo Stream (2015)
https://www.civilbeat.org/2015/11/curt-sanburn-a-walk-along-palolo-stream/