Though many of the events in this book really happened, this remains a work of fiction. This means, among other things, that while all of the major characters are named after real people who experienced this strange, tragic week on Niihau, I have added dialogue, attributes, and motivations of my own imaginings. The island of Niihau does exist, and it is owned by a family named Robinson. A Japanese Zero did crash on Niihau after the attack on Pearl Harbor; the pilot did survive; the island was isolated and largely uninterested in the machinations of the outside world; the island’s Hawaiian residents were unsure why a foreign military plane was so close to their island, while the three Japanese-speaking inhabitants immediately knew full well what had happened. Those are the bare-bones facts I used as a springboard for the story I wove. To fill in the gaps I did extensive research, but often historical documents contradicted one another.
My most baffling challenge was trying to uncover when the Niihauans knew that Pearl Harbor had been attacked. Specifically, how did they find out? There was no consensus in any of the materials I looked at. In this and other instances I chose the scenario I thought most likely, and also the one that best exemplified both the isolation of Niihau and the heartrending identity issues that Japanese Americans, and indigenous Hawaiians, faced at that time. Also, in places, I added small scenes to bridge the larger, historically verified ones.
I did get confirmation on the events that ended the so-called Battle of Niihau during a wonderful, synchronicitous event in Reno, Nevada. I had never been there, nor had I often played blackjack with real money. But there I was at one in the morning, in a brightly lit casino, getting help from a table of amiable strangers. The man next to me told me he was from Hawaii, and I, who had spent a lot of time on Oahu and Kauai, asked him, “Which island?” Well, he said, I grew up in California, but my father was from a place you’ve probably never heard of, called Niihau. I almost dropped my chips. The odds at blackjack might be fairly good, but what are the odds that I would meet someone with connections to an island of 130 people? He told me that Ella and Ben Kanahele were direct relations. I caught my breath and asked him if the way I have portrayed the ending here is the way it actually happened. Oh, yes, he said with a smile. No doubt about it.
There were other surprises. Documents state that the events on Niihau were a major influence on the decision to intern Japanese-Americans in February 1942. So this small, alomost forgotten historical footnote has had large historical reverberations.
I asked for permission to visit Niihau and talk directly to the people there about any remembrances they had of those seven days back in 1941, and to hear any stories that might have been passed down from relatives and friends. Unfortunately, my request to the Robinson family, who still own the island, was never answered. Perhaps this is fitting, because the book is a work of fiction; in addition, their continuing reserve ensures that the “mystery island” remains a mystery, even today.