Talk Story: Dana Miyake
Kailua native and Anahola resident Dana Miyake is Hawaiian through and through.
Kailua native and Anahola resident Dana Miyake is Hawaiian through and through.
Much of her life is dedicated to the Hawaiian sport of outrigger canoe paddling.
But coincidentally, perhaps even ironically, her roots in canoe paddling stem from her time as a youth when she was a part of a paddling community of Hawaiian transplants in Northern California.
“I think that’s why it means so much and I’ve done it for so long. For a long time, it was my connection to home. I think everyone that paddled in the mainland, that was their goal as well. It was their connection to home. Everyone was so homesick, but you had to make the best of where you were,” Miyake said.
Then when she relocated back to Hawaii, she brought back some of what she learned in California to Kauai and tried to infuse some of those principles into the local paddling community here.
Miyake is the women’s coach for Puuwai Canoe Club, and she formerly paddled with Kukuiula Canoe Club. She’s also the race director of Kauai Outrigger Association (KOA).
Recently, Miyake and other members of Puuwai were part of the Na Wahine O Ke Kai, an all-women outrigger canoe race 41 miles long that went from Molokai to Oahu.
Miyake sat down with The Garden Island and talked about her beginnings in outrigger paddling and how she became part of the paddling community here on Kauai.
We recently talked about the Na Wahine O Ke Kai. I didn’t ask this last time, but does it mean more to you to be part of an all-women paddling event?
It does. You know, when there’s a sport where there’s men and women, you’re not only competing against people in your division. You’re also competing against men. Men are, typically, always going to be faster. … It’s a little disheartening when you race against them, like in the OC1 races. You’re all on the start line together, and guys for the most part are always going to come across the line first.
For the women, to participate in the Na Wahine O Ke Kai, it’s truly a sisterhood. It’s friendly competition. I saw a lot of girls that I raced with at one point in time. You feel good for them. There was one girl from Kukuiula (Janet Nathanson). It was her first crossing. I gave her a hug before the race, and she was like, “You were my first coach.” I was like, “I’m so proud of you,” for being out here.
There’s this one girl, JoJo Toeppner, she did all the Na Wahine O Ke Kai. This was the 40th one, and this was her 40th crossing. … At the meeting, they brought her up on stage. It was a really good inspiration and motivation. At one point, men told us we couldn’t do it — that it was too dangerous. To be able to prove them wrong is good. We can do anything they do.
Are you doing it again next year?
Yes.
Can you tell us a bit about your upbringing? How old were you when you started paddling, and how did you get into it?
I was born on Oahu, and I moved to the mainland in 1976. I was 4 years old. I moved to Oakland, Calif. Moving there in the ‘70s, there was a lot of transplants. People from Hawaii left Hawaii to try to give a better opportunity for their kids. … My mom was super homesick. She joined a canoe club that my uncles had founded. Pretty much, this is what she told me: “You’re going to paddle, and you’re going to love it!” I started at the age of 8. … She practiced every day. We practiced Monday through Thursday, and I had to go to practice with her.
There was myself, my cousins and then the girls she paddled with, their kids. We were always there, so we just decided as kids that we wanted to paddle as well. We approached my uncle, who was a coach, and asked him if we could paddle. At the time, there was only three of us girls that we under the age of 12. He said come back and see me when you have six girls. We all went home and brought a friend the next day, and we had a crew of six. That’s pretty much how I started. I was 8, and I haven’t taken a year off, and now I’m 46.
Did you take to it right away, or did it take a while?
Actually, as soon as I got in the canoe and took my first stroke, I was pretty much in love with it. It was (an innate thing). It truly was.
If you can describe it, what is your connection with the sport?
Even though I was young when I moved to the mainland, it was still a shock. You’re surrounded by a lot of people you haven’t seen before, a lot of different cultures and a lot of different races. To us, we feel like everybody is talking differently. No one was taking pidgin. They don’t understand what you’re saying. They think what you eat is weird. They think listening to Hawaiian music is weird. It was a culture shock.
Paddling was a way to be around our own people who talked like we did, who ate like we did, who listened to the same music that we did. To us, it was a way to hold on to our roots and to be unified in what was a very scary world. In Oakland, there was a lot of gangs and stuff that we weren’t exposed to in Hawaii. A lot more danger — kids were getting kidnapped, shootings and things that we weren’t used to. We just stuck together as a community.
I think that’s why it means so much and I’ve done it for so long. For a long time, it was my connection to home. I think everyone that paddled in the mainland, that was their goal as well. It was their connection to home. Everyone was so homesick, but you had to make the best of where you were.
A lot of people from Hawaii moved to California back then?
Yeah. Like, a lot. California has the second-largest population of Hawaiian people.
When did you get your first taste of competition?
When I was 8, when we got our crew together, we started practicing. We raced that first year. I’ve always been a super-competitive type of person. To me, once I got that first stroke in and got that first taste, I just wanted to win, win, win. I think that’s why I got into the role of coaching. I always felt like we could do better and that we could push ourselves to be a better team.
Do you remember your first race?
I do. I totally remember my first race. (It was in Sacramento.) … I remember being on the starting line and feeling like I wanted to throw up or pass out. Just super nervous.
It’s funny now. When there’s new girls, I can just see it in their face when they’re nervous. Now getting on the starting line, I don’t have worries.
What were the differences and similarities between paddling communities here in Hawaii and in California?
It’s funny, with paddling the state sport in Hawaii. When we moved back in 2007, we thought there was going to be this big hype about it. When we got here, it was kind of disappointing. We didn’t feel that same unity as we did in the mainland. I think it’s because the paddlers over here take it for granted. The water is warm. The weather is warm. (On the mainland), we’re super freezing cold. The weather is cold. It’s just miserable, but that was our connection to home. That was our time to see other local people that came from Hawaii. We made the effort to really stay together. I think we were really trying to hold on to our roots, so it was really family oriented and more unified.
When we came here, it was the opposite. People just showed up to race, and then they left. On the mainland, the whole club showed up at 7 a.m. and they stayed until the end, like 5 p.m., and they cheered for the kids. Over here, the kids come in the morning and then they leave. The adults come in the afternoon, and they don’t support the kids.
For us, it was really shocking to us. We felt the unity wasn’t there, as far as the paddling community.
Has it changed since then?
Now I think with myself, I was the president with Kukuiula and my husband was a coach. I think because we grew up that way in the community, with the clubs we were involved with, we tried to bring that back. We really don’t want separation — these are the kids, these are the novices and these are the experienced (paddlers).
We really see it as we’re a whole family. We’re a whole club, and we’re here for everybody. I think everybody should support everybody. Wherever we are, that what we try to instill.
I can honestly say we have (seen change). I feel we’ve made a positive impact as far as bringing more of that culture. I think over here, maybe it’s more evolved competition. People are concerned about winning and being cut-throat. We’re coming from a place where we didn’t have it readily available to us. We were just happy to have anybody. It really didn’t matter if we won or not, even if we’re super competitive. For us, it was more about keeping our culture and heritage alive.
How did you become KOA race director?
As president of Kukuiula, I had to go to the association meetings. When I was at the association meetings, I saw areas of opportunities where things could be improved upon. The race director position, it’s not a position where you’re nominated. It’s a position that’s appointed by the (association) president. The president asked me if I would be interested in being race director when KOA was established. That’s how I got into this role.
How long have you been doing that now?
Whew. Maybe four, five years I would say.
What are your responsibilities as race director?
As the race director, your main responsibility is to make sure that everything associated with the race is handled appropriately. The biggest thing usually is the permits. Then after the permits, then there’s the official boats and then the lane settings for regattas. For long-distance races, there’s the courses that need to be established.
Along with that, the least favorite thing is the rules. If there’s a protest filed by one club or some type of argument or disagreement between crews, it’s the race director’s job to figure out if there was something done against the rules or if there was unsportsmanlike contact. In the case of island championships and so forth, (it’s my job) to call the races. Really, just trying to make sure everything associated with the race runs smoothly. So, everything.
Do you get some compensation for this work?
Nope. It’s all volunteer. It’s lots and lots of meetings, lots of phone calls, lots of emails and texts.
What keeps you motivated?
What we did when we started KOA, we made KOA stand for “Knowledge Of Ancestors.” The purpose of that was for us to be able to pass on whatever information we have down to the next generation. Really, that’s my motivating factor for everything canoe paddling as a coach, as president of a canoe club, as race director. Because I’ve been involved with it for so long, what can I pass on to the next generation so maybe they don’t have the same struggles — to make it easier for them so they can really focus on how they can grow the sport and really make it lasting.
There are more than 70,000 “Native Hawaiians” living in California, and their average income is HIGHER than the average income of all the people of California. But Native Hawaiians living in Hawaii have lower average income than the average of all Hawaii’s people. So why is that? Because people who make the major effort to leave the place where they were born and grow up are clearly full of energy and intelligence and bravery. So it’s to be expected that those most likely to succeed will go elsewhere, while those who stay behind are those less likely to succeed. I’m sure the same thing is true about native Californians — the “best” among them are leaving California in droves because they can succeed much better in Texas, while the less energetic, less well-educated, stay behind in California. Same thing with New York. Socialist, big-government states like Hawaii, California, New York lose their best people who leave for better opportunities elsewhere.
Nice article Dana!
Nicely done Dana, and yes, you and your family sacrificed a lot of time and energy and have given it all to support to make races happen! Thank you for bringing new and better ideas to KOA. Thank you Keone for allowing your wife in giving so much of her time. And of course you.., always the supporting husband!!
Much aloha!!
So awesome! Dana! Love you miss you. Kaimanu for life!