Kalaupapa Tours on Moloka'i: A Story of Tragic Isolation

I’m in a turboprop with nine other passengers, headed to Molokaʻi. Our history lesson on Kalaupapa — the mysterious Hawaiian peninsula of exile for patients with Hansen’s Disease, formerly known as leprosy — is about to begin. With my seat belt strapped on and the propellers beginning to whirl, the pilot turns to us and shouts, “This isn’t an airplane, it’s a time machine!”

The Kalaupapa Saints Tour, conceptualized and founded by Kalaupapa resident Meli Watanuki and operated by Seawind Tours and Travel, was created to ensure that visitors hear the story of Kalaupapa by someone who lived it. The day-long excursion costs $649 and tour dates are announced online as they become available.

The Kalaupapa and Kalawao Peninsula on Molokaʻi had been stewarded by Native Hawaiians for 900 years before the Hawaiian monarchy’s Board of Health turned it into a place of exile in 1866. Anyone with the contagious Hansen’s Disease — a disease highly feared and misunderstood at the time — was ripped away from their families and sent to this 10,725-acre settlement with a life sentence.

Quick Facts About The Tour

We meet our tour guide, John Meadows, in Honolulu and fly into Kalaupapa, previously only accessible by foot or mule ride. Soaring over the Molokaʻi Sea Cliffs, the world’s tallest sea cliffs rising 3,000 feet above the crashing waves of the North Shore, reminded me of Kauaʻi’s extraordinary Nā Pali Coast.

After landing at the smallest airport I’ve ever seen, essentially a landing strip and outdoor pavilion, Meadows welcomes us to Molokaʻi and asks that we behave with respect and aloha during our time here.

Kalaupapa Airport. Photo by Natasha Bourlin.

We pile into a comfortable, air-conditioned shuttle van with chilled bottles of water and Meadows behind the wheel. We pass through gates announcing our entrance into the Kalaupapa National Historic Park and begin to see monuments dedicated to the lives that ended here.

Outside the shuttle’s windows, I see gravestones organized by religion. We would see countless more in the proceeding hours. Approximately 8,000 people afflicted with Hansen’s Disease, mostly Native Hawaiians, passed away there between 1866 and 1969, when their forced exile was officially lifted.

We stop before two large pillars built by Father Damien de Veuster, a priest from Belgium who arrived in 1873 to serve the community. Father Damien was eventually canonized posthumously for his dedication to the patients he served and his legacy is an ever-present part of the tour. The pillars mark the formal entrance to Papaloa Cemetery. Nearby, a tiny gravesite, dug for a small child, brings tears to our eyes.

A child's gravesite at Kalaupapa. Photo by Natasha Bourlin.

We visit the rocky point where the first patients were dropped off by boat in January 1866 and left to fend for themselves. Eventually a pier was built here to receive goods and visitors. Its rusting remnants still remain. Looking at the crashing waves surrounded by soaring sea cliffs thousands of feet high on three sides, even 160 years later, makes me imagine how scary it must have been for the first 12 patients who arrived here. They’d been forcibly removed from their loved ones, brought to an area chosen for its geologic isolation and, thankfully, natural resources and told to hike 3.5 miles to a location in nearby Kalawao where they would now live.

The historic buildings that surround the pier welcomed visitors, sold goods and housed patients, among other uses, for decades. At one point there were 1,200 patients — its maximum residency. Today only five patients and a few dozen others who support them and the National Park remain.

Pillars built by Father Damien de Veuster. Photo by Natasha Bourlin.

Back in the van, we continue on towards Kalawao, where the first patients settled. Along the way, herds of small deer dance by. We pass chimney ruins where a bakery once stood, a former chicken farm, an ancient heiau (temple), a cistern built by Father Damien and many more remnants of bygone days.

We stop at the small Siloama Church, or “Church of the Hidden Spring,” built in 1866, then reconstructed in 1885 and again in 1966. To the left, two large concrete graves rest in front of a tiny building with a sign that reads: “Patients.” Inside, are wooden pews, a plaque with the names of the first exiled residents, and the following tribute:

“THRUST OUT BY MANKIND

THESE 12 WOMEN AND 23 MEN

CRYING ALOUD TO GOD

THEIR ONLY REFUGE

FORMED A CHURCH

THE FIRST IN THE DESOLATION

THAT WAS KALAWAO”

It’s clear that many patients found religion in many different forms. At St. Philomena Church and Cemetery, a wing of the church, was reserved for patients. Several of us pause, looking down curiously at the many holes in the floor. John tells us that Father Damien created the holes for patients to spit phlegm into while attending services. We silently let John’s explanation sink in.

St. Philomena Church and Cemetery, Kalaupapa. Photo by Natasha Bourlin.

Outside the church are the original graves of Father Damien, whose remains were returned to Belgium in 1936, and Brother Joseph Dutton, who assisted him in caring for peninsula residents — both contracted Hansen’s Disease while tending to patients there.

I gaze over at a grassy knoll, which appears so lovely until I realize it’s the final, unmarked resting place of about 2,000 patients. Across the way are the ruins of the original Baldwin Home for Boys and the Leprosy Investigation Station which did research on the sick living in Kalawao. There is signage that delves deeper into the history of both.

Continuing on, we pass groves of ironwood, date palm, banyan and other trees, many planted by peninsula patients, some having seen centuries of life and death, joy and sadness. We stop at Judd Park for lunch, which we were asked to pack for ourselves. We dine in a park that once offered refuge and play for resident boys. Beyond is one of the most beautiful vistas Hawaiʻi offers, with sea stacks jutting from the frothy ocean and cliffs rising steeply from the sea.

A mosaic of Father Damien de Veuster stands at the entrance of St. Damien Hall. Photo by Natasha Bourlin.

After lunch, we head back to Kalaupapa to a bookstore where we meet our first resident, Sister Alicia Damien Lau, who has been servicing patients in Kalaupapa since 1965. Inside the bookstore are mementos for purchase such as books, stickers, tees, maps and more. Sales proceeds go towards preservation, education programs and park restoration.

En route to the original grave of Mother Marianne, a sister of St. Francis of Syracuse, we stop at the trailhead that visitors used to traverse on mules to get to the peninsula. The trail has a series of 26 switchbacks and just over three miles of a 1,664-foot dip in elevation. I’m grateful for our 40-minute plane ride.

We arrive at Marianne’s festooned final resting place, although she’s now interred in Honolulu. A rock welcomes us, painted with a simple sentiment, “Peace to all who enter here.”

The gravesite of Mother Marianne. Photo by Natasha Bourlin.

Here, Sister Alicia is accompanied by the smiling face of Sister Barbara Jean. We learn of Mother Marianne’s history and Kalaupapa accomplishments which led to her canonization in Vatican City by Pope Benedict XVI in 2012.

One of the more fascinating things I learn is something the sisters call the “third miracle” of Marianne. Upon arrival at Kalaupapa in 1888, Mother Marianne proved to be a diligent patient advocate. She taught the importance of cleanliness and hygiene in preventing the spread of disease, new concepts in the day. When forced exile ended in 1969, not a single Franciscan sister serving Kalaupapa patients had contracted the disease, whereas both Father Damien and Brother Joseph passed away from leprosy while on the peninsula.

The home of Kenso Seki, a former Kalaupapa patient who traveled the world once a cure for Hansen’s Disease was found in the 1940s and travel restrictions were lifted. Photo by Natasha Bourlin.

On the tour, Meadows and our band of eight foster friendships, each of us deeply impacted by all that we see and learn that day, like how new families can be forged in the face of isolation, loneliness and exile.

“This is a very special tour,” fellow visitor Shelley McMurry of Charleston, South Carolina said. “Having read the book “Molokai,” the combination [of both the tour and reading the book] was special … I’m always inspired by strength in the midst of absolute horror.”

Indeed, it is an inimitable and edifying excursion on which visitors learn that sometimes it’s only in contrast to sadness that you can see how brightly humanity can shine. With only five patients remaining in Kalaupapa — the oldest now 102 years old — how long visitors will continue to be allowed into the park is unknown. Prior to the Kalaupapa Saints Tour, no tours had been offered since pre-COVID.

“I’m honored to show them how [patients] live and the remaining sites as well,” Meadows said about leading tours.” [I'm] honored to work for Auntie Meli. [Visitors] can’t imagine what's here, they have to come on the tour and see for themselves.”

Thinking about our initial journey to Kalaupapa, we may have stepped back in time for the day, but this experience will last a lifetime.

Note: As of now, there is a huge waitlist for this tour. Reservations must be patient- and park- approved, and park entrance is granted by permit only.