Trade Wind to Hawaii

By Robert T. Tanouye

This is the story of two brothers and the counter-revolution of Hawaii. For four colorful years Hawaii became a Republic, and the Rafferty brothers led a revolt against the Republic of Hawaii to bring back the glory days of the Hawaiian Kingdom. Larry was a distinguished planter, and Johnny was a soldier of fortune and gunrunner, and for five days they held off the Republican Army. This is also a story of love and betrayal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert T. Tanouye
• Release date: Feb 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301705436

Robert T. Tanouye

Robert Tanouye has been a dreamer all his life. He is the author of a couple of short stories: “Red Snow” and “The Range Detective.” He is also the co-founder of the Honolulu Chapter of the National Writers Association.

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TRADE WIND TO HAWAII

A Historical Novel

Robert T. Tanouye

Smashwords Edition

Trade Wind to Hawaii

Copyright © by Robert T. Tanouye

Digital ISBN: 9781301705436

All rights reserved

Cover Design and Formatting by Laura Shinn

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recoding, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Trade Wind to Hawaii is a work of fiction based upon historical fact. Though some of the cities and towns do exist they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any names or characteristics similar to any person past, present or future are coincidental.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

This novel would not have been possible without the encouragement of the members of the Honolulu Chapter of the National Writers Association.

DEDICATION

To Devyn and Otis, the next generation of Tanouyes.

PROLOGUE

Little do people realize that the Hawaiian Islands, as lovely as they are, had their troubles and turbulent years.

To most people, Hawaii is Waikiki and Diamond Head, swimming and surfing, luau and hukilau (partying and feasting). Of course, it is all these things, but it is also a land that was born out of a violent past, and of people of different races and nationalities, who, combined together, formed the citizenry of the islands. This is their story.

***

During the late nineteenth century, for four colorful years, Hawaii became a Republic. The days of the monarchy had been shattered by the revolution, never to be restored. Although it did not last very long, the rebellion was an important chapter in the history of the Hawaiian Islands.

There were two parties during and after the revolution. The Royalist Party, loyal to their queen, fought two revolutions for her. The Republic Party, consisting entirely of foreigners, wanted a new government to replace the old. Therefore, conflicts between the factions led to riots in the streets, as the locals found themselves sitting on a powder keg.

But it all began long before the two parties were even conceived, when King David Kalakaua, known throughout the islands as the Merry Monarch, was the ruler of the Hawaiian Kingdom. At that time, his cabinet was made up mostly of haole (white men), rich planters, and businessmen. Unhappy with the judicial system of Hawaii, the cabinet forced the king to draft a new constitution, which came to be known as the Bayonet Constitution. It took away the rights of the Hawaiian people, so only the haole population had the right to vote. Thus, the Hawaiian people became second-class citizens in their own country.

When Queen Lilioukalani ascended the throne following the death of her brother, Kalakaua, she got rid of her brother’s white cabinet and drafted her own constitution, which took away the power from the haole businessmen and put it where it belonged, in the hands of the Hawaiian people. But this constitution was unpopular with the small number of powerful white leaders. A bloodless revolution was staged, which toppled the Hawaiian Kingdom for good.

The haole leaders had no idea how to begin an overthrow, so the U.S. Minister advised them to capture a government building, and that was the beginning. They chose a Sunday, when nobody was working, and occupied a government building. A U.S. cruiser was in another part of the Hawaiian waters when they heard that American lives were endangered, so they hurried over to Oahu and anchored off Waikiki. They trained their guns on Iolani Palace. The marines disembarked and staged maneuvers at the palace walls as a silent threat. The queen had no choice; she had to abdicate her throne.

Then a provisional government was hurriedly formed in its place, and the Hawaiian people saw their way of life swiftly coming to an end. The men in power petitioned the U.S. government for annexation. The president at that time, Benjamin Harrison, sent the petition to Congress for ratification, but, before anything could be done about it, he was replaced by Grover Cleveland as the new American president. Cleveland recalled the petition and sent an investigator to the islands. Although he was wined and dined by members of the provisional government, the investigator reported that it was an illegal revolution. When President Cleveland found out that the U.S. Minister had a hand in the overthrow, he recalled the minister and asked the provisional government to return the Hawaiian Kingdom back to the monarchy. They refused.

Unable to become part of the United States, the men in power quickly formed the Republic of Hawaii. Some of the native Hawaiians refused to accept the new government. Tension engulfed the country, and it grew constantly. The new Republic of Hawaii, fearing a counter-revolution, confiscated all the firearms in the islands, but still the unrest grew.

The Royalist Party wanted to take back their government; they had no alternative but to stage their own revolution.

The country was ripe for an explosion; a counter-revolution was inevitable.

And so it all began.

CHAPTER ONE

One day, in early December of 1894, two brothers met for the first time after years of separation, to light the fuse that would become the counter-revolution of Hawaii. It was a repercussion of the Hawaiian Revolution that would leave its mark in the pages of history, and a scar on the land itself.

A new era would unfold out of the ruins of the aftereffect, which would finally lead to a territory, the first step toward statehood.

***

The Barbary Coast was one of several districts that made up San Francisco’s vast metropolis and, by the late nineteenth century, it had become the most notorious section of the city. This part of the city had dingy buildings, dark and foreboding alleys, with low, clinging fog on most nights. The numerous avenues and side streets stretching across the waterfront were often filthy and damp and slimy. There was always some kind of shanghaiing, mugging or murder, violence and smuggling going on in this port of hell. The moment the sun set beyond the distant horizon, it was a time for the rats to come out and play.

This was a city of intrigue, where men walked by night in the shadow of the law—where men could buy guns cheaply and ship them to any place in the world—including Hawaii.

***

As the sun dipped lower over the horizon, the gray clouds rolled into San Francisco and hovered over the Barbary Coast like a sinister cloak of gloom. The night was cold and misty, with the scent of the city’s dampened streets mingled with the odor of the dried seaweed that had been washed up on the beaches the day before. As the windswept howling through all the darkened avenues with a macabre effect, the ocean’s swift currents, with its churning surf and pounding waves, splashed suds of water up onto the wharfs.

It was one of those nights when most people stayed indoors and close to the fireplace, but for the men of the Barbary Coast, it was a typical evening as they ventured outdoors to pay visits to the various brothels and saloons that lined the streets, or to earn a fast buck by illegal means.

The Shanghai Bar was one of those nightspots where danger lurked at almost every table, where the man in the next booth might be a skipper looking for a crew to shanghai or a mugger looking for his next victim. It was a saloon where rough and rowdy looking seamen hung out while in port, and it was also a hangout for lushes of both sexes. It was a noisy den for brawlers of every breed: merchant seamen and whalers, gutter rats and cutthroats, and strangers with shady past.

As the afterglow beyond the western horizon turned the sky bright with hues of orange and gold and red, Lawrence Rafferty took a deep breath and pushed through the batwing door. Inside was stuffy, and he found it difficult to breathe. A strange odor greeted his flaring nostrils; it smelled of cheap perfume from women who had lost most of their looks and of the sea that men brought in with them.

Larry, at twenty-eight, was mature and responsible. He looked distinguished in a white suit and a Panama hat, tall, handsome, and well-mannered. A gentleman planter from Hawaii, he was far from home and everything that was familiar to him. Now he was here in California to meet with his brother, Johnny. Johnny was twenty-seven, only a year younger than Larry, but he had seen more of life than his brother ever would. The older Rafferty wondered briefly how long it had been since he last saw Johnny, and if he had changed at all.

Reflecting on his past reminded him of what he was doing here on the West Coast. It was politics that had brought him here. It had always been politics. He had always taken an active part in Honolulu’s politics, until running his sugar plantation in Manoa Valley had become only a sideline. Unlike his fellow planters, he did not sympathize with the Republic. Maybe it was because of the Hawaiian blood running through his veins, other haole planters reasoned. Whatever the reason, he remained one of the most influential Royalists in Hawaii. Now he was here representing the Royalist Party.

He stood just inside the swinging door as men shoved past him in their eagerness to leave the saloon. As he looked around slowly, almost deliberately, his eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the interior. The room was crowded, and looked as dirty as the men and women that milled around the gaming tables, in booths, and along the bar.

Some burly men brushed by him on their way in, while others pushed their way out, and one lusty seaman swore at him for being in the way. Quickly, he stepped to one side to avoid the onrush of traffic.

It took only a minute for him to feel as grimy as the people around him. A bad taste in his mouth came from the thick atmosphere. He felt dizzy and a little lightheaded; a wave of nausea hit the pit of his stomach and threatened to erupt, but he managed to fight it down.

Pushing his way into the crowd, he tried to worm his way to the bar, which was not an easy task. For each step forward, he was forced back two more. It was like fighting the waves at Waikiki Beach, he thought wryly. And, as he had done so many times before with the waves back home, he dived deep where the current was weakest and swam toward the bar.

Just as he thought he was making progress, somebody burst through the door and crashed into him, sending him hurtling against a brawny sailor who, in turn, shoved him onto a group of men at the faro table. One gave him a dirty look. Another spat out profanity. By this time he was feeling faint as more pushing and shoving went on. He soon found himself sprawling at the feet of some men at the bar. His suit was soiled and wrinkled as he picked himself up and squeezed in between two seamen at the bar.

Deciding a cold drink might make him feel better, he ordered a sherry, but a warm glass of beer was put in his hand. Rather than protest, he took a swig, but it was flat to his cultured taste, making him feel even worse. He thought briefly of spilling the beer on the floor and walking away from the bar, but there were too many feet below, and a pair of dirty shoes might get offended if they got splashed on and take it out on him. So he did the only thing he could under the circumstances. He took the beer with him as he fought his way to the back of the room where he located an empty booth. With an exhausted sigh, he dropped into the seat facing the door. He placed his drink on the table before him and swore never to