A Pele person

She was a Pele person. That was the only explanation Pua Makua, Ph.D., could come up with to explain her fascination with the lava of the Big Island. As a professor at UH-Manoa, though, the opportunities came too seldom.

So early on the morning after the first meeting of the Governor's Commission on Hawaiian Bones, Graves and Repatriation at the King Kamehameha Hotel in Kona -- which left Pua thinking there just might be a way to solve the sticky question of what to do with all of the Hawaiian bones stored in boxes at the Bishop Museum, as well as what to do when other burial caves were discovered, such the Kawaihae cave -- she headed out in her rented Jeep.

Past the airport, past Hualalai and the golf fiefdom growing there, she parked on the mauka shoulder behind another car. Nearby, Japanese honeymooners were spelling their names in kanji with white coral on the black pahoehoe.

Pua tightened the laces on her hiking boots, lathered sunscreen on her brown arms, legs and face, grabbed a backpack, big pandanus hat and ohia walking stick from the back seat, said a brief prayer to Pele asking guidance and protection as she walked upon the Lady's creation.

"Konichi-wa!" she said as she passed the love birds.

As a scientist who studied humans, Pua, 32, would have been aware of the lack of a serious romantic interest in her life even if friends and colleagues didn't point it out from time to time. Not accusingly, not directly. More like "Hey, I met a neat guy I think would be great for you" or "So, you ever hear from Ikaika?" She gave up blind dates after one "neat guy" showed up with a full fu manchu growing out of his nose. A few nose hairs she could handle, OK, but...

Well, enough of that.

Her work as a teacher, researcher and consultant, as well as her mission as a proponent of Hawaiian culture, provided Pua with plenty of satisfaction. So too in other ways did paddling with the Hele Kai Canoe Club's senior women crew, surfing at Waikiki and going for long runs. Even her recreation was Hawaiian. (That was the other thing. Pua was three-quarters Hawaiian. When she got around to some serious coupling, he would have to be seriously Hawaiian.)

Today, Pua was combining her various testosterone-free pleasures -- doing research while getting some exercise and visiting Pele. Soon her only thoughts were focused on the lava underfoot, and not tripping face-first. Pahoehoe is generally smooth and ropy, often compared to saltwater taffy, but it does funny kine stuff, rises, dips and tilts. As she walked, she listened for a hollow sound, indicating a lava tube below, and glanced up from time to time, keeping her bearings on the island of vegetation further upslope.