The foaming blue waves that crept along the glistening black sands welcomed him back home from his journey.  Pa'oa’s eyes glanced up at the vibrant and lush mountains, a sight he had longed for while he was away.  He reached shore and planted his wa'a.  Although the sand scorched his toes he had not been happier to be upon land, especially his home, Waipi'o.
Before Pa'oa left on his journey he had just turned fifteen.  His fifteenth birthday was one he had waited forever for, the day he’d be given his challenge to prove his coming of age and recognize his transition into adulthood.  It was a tradition in his family and a task that was taken on by all the k'ne in his ‘'hana.  When the journey was completed, the k'ne received a tattoo that honored Pa'oa’s mo'ok'auhau and the expedition.  When Pa'oa was a child, he would always admire the strength of the men in his family who completed the voyage. He longed to be just like them.  When he turned fifteen, he went to his mom and begged her to let him complete the journey, but she refused.
“M'm', I’m finally of age to go on my huaka'i,” he said with excitement.
“Okay, but you’re not going,” she replied with before continuing with her work.
“But M'm', I’ve waited so long for this day.”
“I don’t care I’ve already told you, you can’t go.”
“M'm', I…”
“No means no, Pa'oa!  Your 'anakala went on the same mission when he was your age and when he left that was the last day my ‘ohana saw him.  I can’t afford to have whatever happened to him happen to you.”
Pa’oa walked away in disappointment and anger.
Why can’t she just have courage in me’ he thought to himself.
He didn’t care what his mom thought and planned to leave without letting her know.  Later that night, he snuck out of his hale and headed toward the ocean to get his wa’a ready.  The stars were sparkling brightly in the dark night sky.  He would wait till night passed before leaving on his journey.  Just as he started to get impatient a peak of orange illuminated above the ocean’s horizon and painted the blue sea golden.  He pushed his wa’a into the water, jumped in and began to paddle.  Thoughts of sadness and worry began to flood his mind, but he continued to sail on to prove to his mom he was able to complete his task.
On his huaka’i he faced many trials and tribulations.  He spent many nights and days restlessly paddling to his next destination while fighting to overcome the oceans mighty tides.  While on his journey, he learned independence and perseverance, but most importantly to never let anyone hold him back from accomplishing something he desired, all the things he would have never learned if he hadn’t attempted his mission.
While on his journey, he had doubted he’d ever see his homeland and family again.  He rushed back to his home to see his ‘ohana.  The kanaka of his ahupua'a stared in astonishment as they saw him.  Before he had left on his journey, he still looked like a keiki, but while away he had matured into a 'ne.  His shining, brown complexion and statuesque body caught the attention of all the wahine.  Everyone began to cheer and celebrate his arrival home.  He was greeted by familiar faces and smiles, but he was in search of only one face.
There she sat away from the ruckus, hard at work beating her kapa, something she had done to distract her mind from her sadness.  He had not seen her face, but her gray hair that shone in the sunlight like strands of silver made her recognizable.  He stood in front of her, and she glanced up at him in shock.
“Is it really you’” she asked as she stood to her feet.
She greeted him with a honi as tears streamed down her face.
“I thought you were make, and I’d never see you again.”
“I’m sorry M’m’, I told you I would be able to do it,” he responded.
“I’m sorry I never believed in you Pa’oa, I was just afraid of losing you.”
Now that he had completed his huaka’i, it was finally time for his last test of courage, getting a k’kau.  He entered the hale where he would get his k’kau.  Beside all the tools on the moena was a bowl of ‘awa.  He sat down and took a sip, the cloudy bitter drink trickled down his throat.  He lied down on the moena and took a deep breath to prepare himself.  The teeth of the mallet dug into his skin making the pain unbearable.  Beads of sweat began to roll down his face.  Each time the dark ink-covered teeth dug into his skin his face grimaced and turned pale.  This pain was worse than anything he felt on his huaka’i, but it was all worth it.  He was in pain for hours, before he had finally finished.  The right half of his back was covered with black geometric designs, each design purposefully placed.  Each shape telling of his story and his journey and honoring his kupuna.  The black scars that were embedded into his body were more than art.   It was a journey.