Haumana ask, and rightly so, “Why learn to sew net in the old way using natural fiber wound around bamboo carved needles when it requires months to complete a single net?”  Even the most adept net maker is unlikely to produce more than a single eleven to twelve foot throw net after a month of dedicated effort.  If profit in the traditional monitory sense were the only aim, my net of rhetoric, intended to gather those in favor of sustaining the art of hand sewing upena kiloi, would be shredded in this first cast.  Arguments against sustaining a practice that seems undeniably anachronistic are, at first glance, compelling.

The manual dexterity required to replicate the mechanics of the “figure eight” knots, the literal appearance of the locking stitch used to construct the idividual “eyes” in the net, poses a trial to the most dexterous fingers.  The hand positioning necessary to hold and to maneuver the size guide used to gauge the length of the eyes in the upena hyper-extends the wrist and is contrary to natural motions of the thumb and ring finger. 

 The art of spinning seine, or plant fiber line, used in traditional Hawaiian throw nets is all but lost.  One might see a demonstration of such craft in a museum, or cultural center, but the effort seems little more than symbolic homage to a quaint ancient practice. 

There is good reason that net makers have abandoned natural seine as a material for making their wares.  The integrity of the natural fibers quickly succumbs to the corrosive nature of salt water.  More durable synthetic fibers, such as nylon fishing line, have effectively and nearly exclusively replaced fishing nets constructed with seine.

For those fortunate enough to observe a throw net maker sewing net, they are likely to recognize the material being used.  Commercially manufactured fishing line, the identical fishing line used to fill a traditional casting reel, provides durable and inexpensive medium.  The needle around which the line is wound, bobbin style, likely molded from inexpensive plastic, while not widely stocked in sporting goods stores, is at least available in limited areas from dealers where elders, or kupuna, have replenished their supplies for years.

What remains to endorse the proliferation of the art of hand sewing throw net, while less immediately perceivable to our fast-food, disposable life-style, is the compelling lessons in life that are transmitted in the process.  Equally as valuable as the direct teaching that takes place within the kumu-haumana relationship, the process of sewing net teaches one many things not immediately evident. 

A metaphor for understanding life’s challenges and lessons, hand sewing a throw net enriches the intellectual, spiritual, and physical well-being of the craftsman.  The persistent haumana accumulates wealth that exceeds the price of the finished product, gains insights that outnumber the count of his catch, and builds a self worth that survives the durability of his net. 

Learning to hand sew a throw net enhances ones capacity for patience and tenacity.  The process of constructing each net underscores the worth of wisdom and maturity.  Sewing net, combined with the rare experience of having blocks of solitude during which to ponder and wrestle with the myriad intricacies of life and relationships, evokes serenity.  Juxtaposing the unspoken philosophical and interpersonal workings of one’s mind against the physical production of the tangible net creates the inescapable effect of evoking metaphors that illustrate the complexities of our problems and bespeak the interrelatedness of our lives as a community. 

Challenged to remain alert in the face of mind-numbing monotony, one exercises mental processes that build powers of perception and capacity for sustained attentiveness that results in greater presence in the moments of life. This awareness, so well explored by Eckhart Tolle in his book, A New Earth, is the essential element for evoking genuine serenity, self-awareness, and, consequently, enhancing the capacity for one to experience the true nature of joy. 

Musicians and artists in the traditional fine arts sense experience similar insights and moments of joy resulting from their all-consuming work.  Finding the capacity to tap into these elements seems critical for sanity and survival in today’s fast-paced, modern world.  Few among us would dispute that there are intrinsic benefits one experiences during artistic pursuits, regardless of whether one pursues them for fun or for profit.  Viewed from that perspective, it is indisputable that the art of hand sewing fishing throw nets has a rightful place as a worthy pursuit.

Art remains one way that the elders in a society illustrate and transmit valued or essential information to their keiki, or youth.  In the same way, Hawaiian culture and the values of its society are transferred by means of various artistic pursuits. 

Hula, Hawaiian story telling through the process of music and motion, is perceived by those unfamiliar with the traditions of the culture as dance.  Far too simplistic and superficial of a characterization, hula, or rather the process of teaching and learning hula, is a complex communication between kumu and haumana.  More than rhythmic physical motion with the capacity to entertain, hula conveys to youth the ways of the culture, inspires pride in a rich and ancient heritage, connects subsequent generations to ancestors, and builds resilience against dilution of the values of the Hawaiian culture.  In this way, Hawaiian culture has been passed down from parent to child, from kupuna to keiki, and from kumu to haumana for centuries. 

Kumu upena kiloi are no less essential than kumu hula to the guidance of Hawaiian keiki.  The art of sewing upena kiloi is of irreplaceable value for its capacity to transmit and to proliferate critical aspects of Hawaiian culture. Its survival is imperative.  Unique among the Hawaiian arts, it conveying the qualities of courage, self-denial, prolonged attentiveness, and tenacity that inspired and enabled early Polynesians to cross vast expanses of open ocean, armed with little more than what their canoes, their wits, their seine, and their skills.  Loss of the craft for sewing upena kiloi, more than a sad curiosity, would translate into the irretrievable loss of one of the core stories in the quilted experience of the Hawaiian people.  Instruction in the art of sewing upena transmits understanding to the haumana of the deep reservoirs of strength, resilience, resourcefulness and affiliation for interdependency and interrelatedness inherent in, and valued by, the Hawaiian people.  To lose this art would cut from the Hawaiian cultural kapa one of its most richly illustrated panels and rob future generations of Hawaiians of their right to know the strength and tenacity of their true selves.