Living Off the Land in Hawaii | Explorer

People in developed countries often take it for granted that they can eat whatever delicacy they want from anywhere in the world. But there are some who fear that this globalization of food is putting all of us at risk, and they are now going back to living off the land. Here's correspondent JJ Kelly in Hawaii.

"When I go spear fishing, I become an actual part of the ocean. I become a part of my roots of Hawaii. I become a hunter, and more than anything, if the boats were to stop coming, I know how to survive."

Hawaii is one of the most remote places on Earth. To get here, it was two flights, 12 hours total. But it feels like you're out there, like coastal populations around the world. All right, you talk about Irma, you're talking about Puerto Rico. Hawaiians face threats unique to their geography, and when disaster strikes, they get pushed to the brink fast. Here's some: 90% of the food that's consumed is imported. That means that Hawaii has about a 10-day supply of food. That didn't always used to be the case. Up until the islands were largely carved up by U.S.-backed pineapple and sugar plantations in the early 20th century, Hawaiians fed themselves. Now a growing number of their descendants is working to do so again.

"So it's 6 a.m. right now. We're gonna go get a meal. We're not going to the grocery store; we're going to the ocean."

This is Makua Beach on the island of Oahu. I'm going diving on this overcast day with Hawaiian native Kimmy Werner.

"It fits! Oh good, weight belt. All right, if you need more, we can give you more."

Kimmy is a champion spearfisher and free diver, but she's not here for sport.

"Our goal today is to get in."

"How do you teach yourself how to do something like that?"

"Well, I mean, I learned from my dad. He was a free diver and spear fisherman, and he just used this to put food on the table. That is what gave me my ability, I think, to relax in the water."

Kimmy's weapon of choice is a trigger-fired spear gun.

"This is for you. All right, move one for me."

She says mine is for emergency use only, just in case a really big aggressive fish like a shark comes in.

"You just have something to put in between you and it was reassuring. All right, I'm in good hands. Should we do this?"

"I think so, let's do this!"

We kick out to the site of a sunken ship called the Mahi. There, Kimmy takes a deep breath of air and disappears down into the abyss.

"Just drops, drops, drops. And I can't even see her anymore, like she's 90 feet underwater with no scuba, laying on the ground and waiting."

"When I go spearfishing, I become a predator. I become a lioness looking for food in my natural environment."

"I got a fish!"

"Well done!"

"I fought. This is a beautiful fish."

Kimmy has caught a poalu, a breed of surgeon fish Hawaiians have been dining on for centuries.

"Obviously, you know this isn't easy work. Like the whole to 100 feet to get a fish like this, there's obviously easier ways to get food. But when you put that work in yourself, it makes you appreciate it that much more. I know that I'm sourcing it responsibly, and it's evidence that I can take care of myself in a place so removed from the rest of the world."

Knowing how to catch a fish is a handy skill to have, yet we didn't see many other people out fishing, and that has Kenny worried.

"If anything were to ever happen where the boats were to stop coming, then people wouldn't know how to survive because we aren't designed right now to take care of ourselves. That didn't always used to be the case here though. No, up until the mid-1800s, Hawaiians had a system of divvying up land into mountain-to-shore slices. What you harvested depended on what part of the slice you lived on. It was called ahupua, and the way it worked is that if people from the mountains needed some fish, they would come down and they would trade, whether it was fruits or vegetables or taro, and people were able to take care of themselves in this system that was 100% sustainable."

In the era of Blue Apron and Amazon Go, many would consider such a system primitive. Not Kimmy.

"If you were to look at any other species of animal, it's like the first thing on their list when they're born: they're going to be taught how to get water, how to get food. And I just don't get how having that knowledge and having those skills makes us primitive, and not having any of them makes us civilized."

She has a point, especially when civilization is so fragile.

"This is the port of Honolulu. We're on an island right now. I live on an island, Manhattan. I remember when Hurricane Sandy hit, and my wife and I lost power. We lost heat. We didn't know where we were going to get our food, and it was scary. And that's on an island with bridges and tunnels. Here, this is the bridge and tunnel; this is the connection to the outside world where their food comes in, and if something goes wrong, the stakes are just a lot higher."

When we come back, for plenty of Hawaiians, self-sufficiency isn't a fringe fad.

"There's a pig right there! It's a dangerous, heart-pumping reality."

I'm JJ Kelly in Hawaii, a place so reliant on imported groceries it's estimated the islands have only a 10-day supply of food. For some locals, the solution is self-reliance, and I'm here to meet a few of those on the front lines, like bowhunter Justin Lee.

"Do you remember a moment in your life where you decided this is how you want to find your food?"

"My dad passed it down onto me, and you know he was my hero. Being the man that brought home dinner via hunting or gathering was the kind of man that I wanted to be."

"So what are we hunting for today?"

"We're going to be hunting for a wild boar. We got some wild goats and some wild sheep out here. None of these species are native to Hawaii. They were introduced to the islands by the West, but with no natural predators to keep their populations in check, their numbers ballooned. Today feral herds threaten Hawaii's delicate ecosystem. Overgrazing and trampling endangered species, they're a problem. They are especially the pigs; they root up everything and they destroy the land. They're nature's bulldozer, basically. They're so destructive the Hawaiian government encourages their eradication, which is why Justin and I are out here this morning."

"Is there any limit on the amount that you can shoot?"

"If you're hunting on public land, you're allowed two pigs per day."

"A day? Yeah, so there's plenty of food out here. You could feed your village for sure."

[Applause]

"There's a pig right there."

"Pig? Yeah, wow, you got a good eye!"

"Let's get us this way, and then we'll come up on it."

As if we needed more proof of Hawaii's ample protein supply, a flock of feral sheep appears on the horizon.

"You see them? Yeah, briefly. Oh no, there they go. They're gone. Yeah, they're gone."

"They've been... all right, here let's try and focus on this boar."

"Okay, those are pigs. Startled boars will charge their aggressors and slice them with tusks as sharp as razor blades. It's a dangerous game, but a well-placed shot could potentially feed a family of four for nearly a week."

"Wow, got him!"

"Wow, this is a good eating boy right here. So how much does he weigh?"

"This guy's probably 80 pounds. He's not that big, but the younger the better they are."

"Bubbles emerge from the wound, a sign that the arrow hit the lung. That means that it was a quick kill."

"So what do you do first?"

"We have to pay our respect to this boar, you know? We're not just killing for fun; for us to survive, something has to die."

"Thank you very much!"

Since he'll be carrying the meat out with him, Justin is selective about what he harvests.

"We're gonna take off his front shoulder, his hindquarters, and then his back strap. That's the tenderloin. Hold this up like this. Yeah, and this is me."

"That'll feed your family?"

"It'll feed my family a few times, yeah. My neighbor's family as well, you know? It's a community vibe."

It might be surprising to think that self-sufficiency would foster a sense of community, yet Kimmy says that's exactly how strong, resilient systems are born.

"Sometimes I'd have a fish that was so big I'd have to share it. The beautiful surprise that came from that is that then a week later I'd have avocados at my doorstep, you know? I'd have fruit from people's trees, eggs from their chickens."

Kimmy calls it her own modern-day ahupua. But in a state that lies 2,000 miles away from the mainland, it's also common sense. And this push for self-sufficiency is gaining ground.

"The Hawaiian government has launched plans to double the amount of food grown on the island by 2020."

"Can I join the party?"

"I suppose if tonight's potluck is any indication, that goal is within reach. What's on the table here?"

"But starting here we have the pualu that we shot. I recognize him. Did he stuff with local citrus and fruit? We have a wild pig that one of my hunter friends dropped off. It's just a feast that comes together."

"It looks amazing, and it strikes me, you're one person going out and doing this, but it creates a community."

"All right, thank you everybody for being here. And it changes a culture."

"If doomsday happens, you're going to have the upper hand, right? These folks know that strength and independence aren't a reward for fighting against nature, but for learning to roll with whatever it throws your way."

"Man likes to try to conquer nature, but we don't get to dictate. Sometimes nature is like, 'Uh-uh, not today.' And so when you live in this type of lifestyle and you're actually living off of the land and the ocean, you are living by what nature gives you—connecting over conquering."