From Saddle to Paddle

Ma‘ulili Dickson quietly built one of Hawai‘i’s most expansive cultural programs in Waimea / Kohala, drawing from voyagers, canoe builders, and the wisdom of Hawai‘i’s elders.
*(Photo by Olivier Koning.)*

Ma‘ulili Dickson is the uncle we all wished we had growing up — wise, prescient and collected, with that unquantifiable twinkle in his steel-blue eyes that lets you know he knows exactly where the line is — how, when and by how far to cross it — so that one lives life to its fullest while uplifting everyone in his presence. Today, he is just that to a growing legion of the Big Island’s younger generations — plural, since the flock under his wings only continues to grow. While the honorific “uncle” may be used fairly casually in Hawai‘i, in some cases, it morphs into a true sign of respect, conveying gratitude, reverence and an acknowledgment of the depth, knowledge and status of someone who has put in the work and gone the distance.

To hear those around him pause and listen as he speaks about the recent resurgent arc of Polynesian voyaging canoes is a reflection of the time and distance he has spent on the water — not just with nonprofit organization Nā Kālai Wa‘a, but going back as far as Hōkūle‘a’s construction, launch, and early sailing voyages.

Ma‘ulili Dickson’s name may not be familiar to people outside the Big Island canoe community, but that’s because he made a conscious effort to help create what may be Hawai‘i’s most expansive and active cultural program in the Waimea/Kohala area, built on the knowledge of voyagers, canoe builders, and the holistic ways of Hawai‘i’s elders. From humble roots on the island’s western shores, Nā Kālai Wa‘a chose a path forward guided not only by legend but also by the celestial sky.

Hailing from the upcountry town of Waimea on the Big Island and being a paniolo, Dickson was a natural fit to be chosen as a crew member of Hōkūle‘a’s early voyages. While one may not initially think that those who spend their days on horseback traversing the range would also be natural sailors, there are, in fact, many parallels between the two. One is their natural sense of awareness of the environment around them, whether on land or at sea — you will find both are never still. Their heads are constantly surveying, their eyes always moving, taking in the smallest changes that many would not notice.

Dickson holds your attention just long enough before his eyes resume their scan of all things near and distant. It is his natural instinct to look far afield and close in, absorbing it all and sharing what he sees and what he needs you to know so that everyone around him remains safe. At sea on Mākali‘i, as on Hōkūle‘a, his paniolo roots also played a role when it came to repairs. Knowing how the canoes were built and the methods of lashing and securing parts of the canoe ensured the success of the voyages he participated in.

Today, Dickson furthers the organization’s goals with a new generation of locals eager to learn the ways of their ancestors. With the nonprofit and the Big Island’s sailing canoes, Mākali‘i and Mauloa, he explains how their location is connected to voyaging: “We haul out the canoes to maintain them, but while they are up on dry land, they are close to the Maka O Hule Heiau, which has standing stones oriented to the sky and distant islands.”

Dickson shares the importance of the heiau with a new generation of navigators following in the footsteps of famed Micronesian navigator Mau Piailug, who came to Hawai‘i and helped lead the earliest canoe voyages from the islands. “These stones connect us to distant islands and the stars in the heavens,” Dickson shares. “And we almost forgot the meaning of the stones, but Papa Mau came and sat within them and shared his knowledge with us here on the Big Island.”

February 2025 marked the 30th anniversary of Mākali‘i’s launch and maiden voyage to Tahiti and the Marquesas. Built in Waimea in a Quonset hut by Clay and Milton Bertelmann, with countless others lending hands, the canoe serves as a touchstone to the past while also inspiring tomorrow’s voyagers to connect with their roots, whether land-based or on the water.

Dickson shares that on many occasions out on the water, sailors aboard the voyaging canoes experience the indescribable sensation of moving across the ocean while feeling the guiding hands of their ancestors by their sides. Each breath of wind harnessed by the sails and every curling ripple of a wave limning itself off the hull are indeed echoes of voyages past. Landfall on a distant horizon beckons the sailors, just as home for the paniolo rises behind a hilly range, their eyes performing the same scan between earth and sky, ever vigilant for the subtle nuances that serve as guideposts in a time beyond maps and charts.

Dickson pauses again, thinking of yet another memory to share, and one can only imagine how fortunate Hawai‘i’s youth are to be in his presence and hear his stories — for that is how the culture is truly perpetuated and passed down in the Islands.