It’s always been interesting to me, and a little sad, that the rich history of Hawaiian words gets more and more diluted, overlooked, and even changed as time goes on and so many of us without an intimate knowledge of the language and culture inadvertently make errors.

Such as that which seems to have been made with the name of the place where the farm sits.

“Kaupakuea” is located in Pepe‘ekeo, north of Hilo, and a few years ago the county put up a street sign off Highway 19.

It read like this: “Kaupakue‘a Homestead Rd.”

We recently wrote about some of the history of Kaupakuea (without the ‘okina, or glottal stop), where the farm is located.

The name Kaupakuea is mentioned in an 1860 Hawaiian language newspaper, and the area even had its own Kaupakuea post office from 1858-1869.

Suzanne Romaine, writing in the Society for Linguistic Anthropology, says that the place name seems to be composed of two words: kaupaku (ridgepole, highest point) + ea (to rise).

Though there are different meanings for “ea,” this linguist for whom the Hawaiian language is an area of concentration says that “rising ridgepole” is most consistent with other recorded place names of that type, and also the morphology and semantics of the 4,000 place names analyzed by Pukui, Elbert and Mookini in their respected work “Place Names of Hawai‘i.”

The “rising ridgepole” translation also fits the topography of the ahupua‘a, the land division, whose high ridge culminates in Pu‘u Ka‘uku, a prominent feature of the landscape that is visible from afar.

“Since the greatest number of Hawaiian place names (21 percent) refer to geographical features, it is not unreasonable to suppose this is an appropriate etymology for Kaupakuea,” she writes.

The gravel road fronting the farm’s banana packing house, which joins Kaupakuea Homestead Road, sits exactly on the ridgeline. Part of the hydroponic houses sit on the Hamakua slope, and the other part sits on the Hilo-side slope.

Romaine finds nothing that allows the spelling “Kaupakue‘a” to make sense, and suggests it is a county misspelling on the sign.

She also details a long story wherein back in 1996, the president of the Kaupakuea Homestead Association learned an ‘okina had been inserted into the name’s spelling (Kaupaku‘ea), and tried to get it removed.

One person at the county assured that the ‘okina would be removed, and then the county council voted to keep it – and yet when the sign was printed, the ‘okina, still present, mysteriously moved to a different location. The street sign was printed with yet a third spelling (Kaupakue‘a).

It’s a long and involved story, and one that is undoubtedly still going on all around us as words evolve and morph.

All we can do is grasp onto the words that we do know, and their definition and cultural meanings, and pass them down to our keiki. Pronounce them correctly, teach the meanings we know, and let them live on.