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     By Athena Ponushis

Ed Wendt swears water spreads an odor. As a Vietnam ground soldier, Wendt has shouldered the weight of water, thinking in rations and living by sips. Waiting for nightfall to savor a sip alone, he has seen men crawl to him like dogs, smelling water. 
“When your canteen goes dry, you know you in bad shape,” said the 59-year-old taro farmer living in Wailua-nui Valley. “That’s what’s happening now, our canteen’s going dry.” 

For nearly 20 years, Wendt has fought for the release of water in East Maui. He has seen uncles die fighting for water and he has seen boys grow into farmers, inheriting the fight - a fight to feed their taro, a fight to feed their families, a fight to live a Hawaiian life. 
“Hawaiians are up against a wall and they playing with our plant,” said Wendt, who was married in his taro patch. “When you see a bone-dry river, you don’t know how much you will feel.” 

Wendt remembers days when his family’s taro was not ready to harvest. His neighbor would say, “You need ‘em, you take ‘em. Not a problem. Plenty.” He remembers grumbles of later years, rumors of desperate uncles threatening East Maui Irrigation workers with cane knives, demanding, “What are you doing here?” And he remembers warnings from his kupuna, elders who foresaw loss.  “They told me to watch the waterfall,” Wendt said. “They said men are coming to take it away.”

Taro farmers Stephen Ho’okano, left and Ed Wendt in Wendt’s family patch in Wailua-nui. “You cannot stop the world from moving,” Wendt explained. “Let’s just stay here and take care, take care of our people, take care of our home. What’s so hard about it? Why be unhappy when you can be happy? When the water flow, I will be happy.”
Photo MARIA HOWELL/Hanaside News

Wading barefoot, Wendt weeds his taro patches, the lo‘i kalo that fed his grandparents as babies. But when he sees cracked banks and brown leaves, his mind turns to Alexander & Baldwin, who own East Maui Irrigation and Hawaiian Commercial & Sugar Company. He fears for his grandchildren. 

“The water is the taro’s water,” Wendt said. “It’s not the county’s water, it’s not even my water.”  Seven years ago, Wendt and a number of his East Maui neighbors filed a petition through the Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation, asking the state Commission on Water Resource Management to release diverted stream water. This June, the taro farmers are still awaiting their answer. 

Stretching back to 1876, A&B has redirected the flow of East Maui streams. An intricate 74-mile ditch system of tunnels, pipes, flumes and syphons continues to extend the surface water to their Central Maui sugarcane fields. As the water has been channeled for lifetimes, young farmers have not seen the potential of the natural streams. “I was never mad,” said 34-year-old Steven Ho‘okano, also living in Wailua-nui Valley. “Somebody had to tell me the truth. I knew we never had no water. Uncle told me why no more water. Now I mad.” 

Ho‘okano has sat at Wendt’s table, infuriated by numbers. Wendt has told the young farmer EMI diverts 60 billion gallons of water a year from 100 East Maui streams. He has blamed EMI for moving an average of 160 million gallons per day, even escalating as high as 450 million gallons during days in the rainy season. And in his strong-veined voice, Wendt has said EMI carries the water away from 33,000 acres of crown lands, lands native Hawaiians have never directly surrendered.  “These lands should be used to support Hawaiian culture, rather than used as a resource, taken by a private entity without regard for these rights,” said Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation Litigation Director Alan Murakami. “What are we doing here? Depriving Hawaiians, who have suffered for decades, of water they need to sustain their culture.” 

Lack of water stops Ho‘okano from farming the taro patch where his father sweated, the same soil that dirtied his grandfather’s hands. His mother and his aunties grew up planting taro. Their taro paid for three homes. Now Ho‘okano asks, “Where my water?” 

“We believe there is enough water for both taro and sugar,” EMI Manager Garret Hew emailed in a written statement. “The EMI system - and the amount of water it is able to divert - has not been significantly changed since 1923. However, the amount of taro cultivated in traditional taro growing areas has dramatically decreased since 1923. It is unclear why these areas may be receiving less water than before.” 

Ho‘okano physically labored to preserve his family’s taro patch. Two years with no weed-eater, no sickle, he farmed with his hands. One season with no water, he watched his taro dry and disappear. He watched his mother cry.  “You ask the thief the question, they try to preach a lie,” Ho‘okano said. “Through the news, they say whatever they like the people to know. A lie.” 

In his email, Hew credited HC&S with employing some 800 residents and contributing $100 million or more, to the Maui economy annually. Ho‘okano can smell money, but he feels no economic benefit. He feels the consequence.  “We planting taro in some horrific conditions,” said Ho‘okano, who farms his uncle’s land as diversions starve his own. “I’ve had big taro, small taro, rotten and diseased taro. They all die from lack of water. I don’t want to quit, but I gotten into the red so much. Crop loss, year after year. No profit. Food, I provide a little, but ... I cannot sustain my family without water.” 

Besides irrigating 35,000 acres of sugarcane fields, EMI diversions provide the Maui County Department of Water Supply with water to serve Upcountry Maui. Petitioning for the release of stream water, Murakami has heard taro farmers accused of trying to deprive the general public of water. 

“You know, a very small fraction, eight million gallons, of the total amount taken is processed into drinking water for upcountry Maui,” said Murakami, who believes EMI operates the largest diversion of water by any private entity in the country.

“But HC&S stands resolute, any amount taken from them, their 160 million gallons a day, will collapse the sugar company.” 
Though the Hawaiian islands no longer herald sugar as king, petitioners are still affected by the political influences the crop controlled. Wendt sees stolen water and stolen land. He sees young men with the ability to farm, but he does not see them farming. He sees them in jail. Sadly, he feels his observations all stem from the same root

   

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