SINCE "WatDat?" debuted a year ago, answering the questions of the terminally curious, Star-Bulletin writer Burl Burlingame has phoned, hiked, phoned, trespassed, phoned, scrambled, phoned, crawled and phoned some more to figure out just what "Dat" is for our readers. The big question though, was, would we run out of Dats to Wat?

No worry. The queries keep on comin'. In fact, we're getting behind, so we're trying to get caught up a little bit today.

Now, as before, if you're curious or puzzled about something you've seen, heard, felt or smelled, drop us a line: WatDat?, Honolulu Star-Bulletin, P.O. Box 3080, Honolulu, Hi, fax at 523-7863 or e-mail at features@starbulletin.com and we'll find out.

The tall cylindrical "statue" shown is actually a koa log. The structure is
called "GENTEN," which is Japanese for starting point or origin
and represents unity.
Photo by Dennis Oda, Star-Bulletin

It is a statue, and it's of a tree trunk, rising more than 30 feet above a circular grassy platform, which is in turn surrounded by a large gravel walkway, which is atop a tall wall - kind of a rounded ziggurat - which is accessed by a grand tile stairway, which is approached by carefully tended Japanese gardens, which are guarded by carefully repaired antique marble Chinese lions, which are flanked by enormous granite slabs, which cap hobbit-like stools and benches that seem to be made out of logs but are really cast cement, which are parked beneath a series of carefully tended trees, which have the names of local politicians inscribed upon signs at the foot of each.

The area is grand and imposing, and at the same time intimate and quiet. It's also generally deserted, which adds to the otherworldly experience.

This is one of the WatDatiest of WatDats to come along in some time!

The site is the local mission of the Honbushin Honbu, a Shinto religious sect with nearly a million followers, mostly in Japan. There is also a mission in China.

Honbushin members have a formal doctrine of discipline, meditation and labor, most of which is devoted to agriculture on the 143-acre property.

The land, atop a bluff and not easily accessed, formerly belonged to the members of the Pineapple Research Institute - Dole and Del Monte and the rest - who spent 50 years poking at pineapples before finally realizing that it's cheaper to grow them elsewhere.

Apparently, the property wasn't easy to sell - at least one private school looked into it - but the Honbushin folks got a good deal and moved in in 1984.

Since then, they've rehabbed the PRI buildings, added a few others, and have plans to construct a church school and a ceremonial tea house.

State representative Samuel Lee, who represents the area and whose name is on a tree plaque, said he didn't know about the plaque, but that the Honbushin farmers grow wonderful daikon.

The "sculpture" is a koa log that seems to be protected by a coat of brown paint. It's called "GENTEN," which, translated from Japanese, means roughly "starting point" or "origin."

The sculpture represents nature and the unity of hearts, religions and countries that work toward peace. Honbushin missionaries regularly gather around the genten and pray.

The Honbushin International Center mission is private property, and it's only polite to ask permission before visiting. The mission's number is 623-7693.

It also helps if you're fluent in Japanese.

An excerpt from Gen. Douglas MacArthur's speech
on a tile mural at Punchbowl Cemetery.
Photo by Dennis Oda, Star-Bulletin

Naturally, it would be a foreigner who's puzzled by this. Every schoolchild in the United States knows this passage by heart. Right?

For you other Kiwi-come-latelies out there, the passage is part of Gen. Douglas MacArthur's grand speech on the deck of the battleship Missouri. Hey, if you need a benediction for World War II, who better than the American Caesar? The guy could natter off a snappy speech like no one's beeswax.

The larger context goes, in part, "We have had our last chance. If we do not devise some greater and more equitable system, Armageddon will be at our door. The problem basically is theological and involves a spiritual recrudescence and improvement of human character that will synchronize with our almost matchless advance in science, art, literature and all material and cultural developments of the past two thousand years. It must be of the spirit if we are to save the flesh."

Before and after this passage there's a lot of yadda-yadda-yadda about silent guns, brave millions, democratic ideals, sunlight and spiritual strength. When it came it speechifyin', the Pact of Steel had nothing on Dugout Doug.

The Arizona Memorial is said to leak about 3 gallons of oil daily.
Star-Bulletin File Photo

Arizona was one of a new breed of battleships in World War I that ran on oil rather than coal. Lots of oil. Arizona had oil bunkers all along her sides - it was thought these would help protect the battleship as well, like a flak jacket made of ketchup packets - and fully loaded, she was capable of holding on the order of a million gallons, according to National Park Service historian Dan Martinez.

But Arizona had her whole front end blown up, and she wallowed in fire and gushing oil and general misery for days following the attack. During salvage efforts, oil was pumped out of the ship so divers could retrieve ammunition.

In the years that followed, nobody paid the slightest attention to how much oil esaped. It wasn't until the NPS inherited care of the battleship from the Navy in the late '70s that underwater surveys were conducted, by which time, the rhythmic pulsing of oil drops to the surface became part of the Pearl Harbor mythos. Some have likened them to tear drops. Many Arizona survivors believe that when the last survivor passes on, the drops will cease.

A primary reason for surveying the hulk was more practical - the Navy feared that if the hull collapsed, a huge blossom of oil would escape and REALLY pollute the harbor.

That scenario was assuaged when divers discovered that the oil, most of which drifts up from a hatch near Barbette #3 on the port-side afterdeck, mixes with the harbor about as well as, well, as oil and water. The ship itself is untouched, and held together these days by lots of underwater growth. The oil drops escape, hit the surface, spread out molecule-thin - creating that rainbow sheen - and evaporate.

"You know what a Black Cow is?" said Martinez. "It's a black candy about the size of a Jujube. Each drop is about that size, and each one comes out every 20 seconds or so, like clockwork. We estimated that it's about 3 gallons of oil a day."

Ah, a hard figure to estimate with. If the rate of drippery were constant and consistent (not likely; old aerial photos of Pearl Harbor show a bigger sheen around the wreck location) we would have approximately 61,000 gallons of oilage over the past 55 years. Great for a lava lamp, miserly for a mighty battleship.

How much longer this will go on depends on how much oil is left, and nobody knows that. Maybe the Arizona survivors have the right idea.

Owl statues top pillars that flank
a building entry at McKinley High School.
Photo by Dennis Oda, Star-Bulletin

Not only that, there are Hawaiian warriors and sharks and plants and all sorts of things up there under the eaves.

The owls are on the Home Economics building, said school secretary Susan Isa. "They've been here since that part of the campus was built in 1922. Even a lot of the adults here don't notice the decorations."

The decorations are typical of the architectural style of the period, a "Spanish Colonial" revival that was thought suitable for municipal edifices, said State Historic Preservation Main Guy Don Hibbard. "It was very popular, and you see the influences all over town.

"The McKinley architect was Louis Davis, who also did the old downtown police station, which is now a tax office, I think."

The grouping of four Davis-designed McKinley High School structure are on both the state and federal list of historically significant structures.