A Lifetime of Shakas

For more than three decades as a part-time freelance news and sports photographer in Hawaiʻi, I’ve captured countless moments across the islands — and a few on the mainland. Along the way, almost without realizing it, I built an ever-growing photo archive of people flashing the shaka sign.

That collection took on new meaning in 2024, when the shaka officially became Hawaiʻi’s hand gesture following the passage of Senate Bill 3312. Shortly afterward, I grabbed a photo with Sen. Glenn Wakai and Steve Sue — the architect of SB-3312 — as they held the newspaper announcing the bill’s passage. A few of my photos were also used in the documentary. It felt like my shaka archive had come full circle.

Whenever I covered a notable visitor to the islands, I often asked for a shaka. It required careful timing and rapport — never interrupting the moment, never breaking a subject’s focus. Over the years, I quietly refined that instinct, producing dozens of memorable shakas… and a few well-documented failures.

Not every shaka came easily — and a few came with a little Hollywood drama. While standing on a public sidewalk photographing the filming of the Western-style crime thriller Paradise, a director noticed me and decided my vantage point needed to end. Moments later, a very large actor dressed as a sheriff was sent outside to politely shoo me away. Instead of tension, the encounter ended with a laugh — and a shaka. The actor was Bashir Salahuddin, who also appeared in Top Gun: Maverick. What began as an effort to move me along turned into another unexpected addition to my shaka archive — proof that even Hollywood lawmen can flash a little aloha.

One of my most unforgettable attempts came in 1998 while covering the late President George H.W. Bush for The Honolulu Advertiser during a day of golf at Mauna Lani. As he waited in his cart for his tee time, I gathered the nerve to ask if he’d pose with a shaka.

He politely declined, smiled, and said, “But I can give you a thumbs up,” before driving off.

Another photographer later joked, “Maybe he thought you were asking him to throw a gang sign — but hey, you just gave a directive to a U.S. president.” I filed that image away as my “presidential half-shaka.”

Full shakas came more easily from local leaders. The late Hawaiʻi Island Mayor Billy Kenoi, former Mayor Mitch Roth, and current Mayor Kimo Alameda all earned spots in my “mayoral shakas” folder. Governor Josh Green delivered my only gubernatorial shaka shortly after signing SB-3312 — officially sealing the gesture’s place in state history.

Sports provided some of the purest moments. Kaʻū High Trojan Izaiah Pilanca-Emmsley delivered a flawless “touchdown shaka,” waving to the sideline as he ran in for a score against Kamehameha.

Some shakas required no persuasion at all. After paddling 2,400 miles solo from Monterey, California, to Hilo in 91 days, Cyril Derreumaux still had enough energy to throw a shaka — joined by his girlfriend, Ashley Redmond. That one lives in my archive as the “it’s quicker to fly Hawaiian Airlines” shaka.

I spent an evening with Priscilla Presley and walked away with a shaka during her An Evening with Priscilla Presley tour at the Hawaiʻi Theatre. Actor Ian Ziering earned his place with a “Sharknado shaka.” Billionaire media personality Kylie Jenner, understandably, had no idea what I meant when I asked — she was only two years old at the time. Her then-dad, Bruce Jenner (now Caitlyn), tried, but the result looked more like a sideways “J” than a proper shaka.

In Las Vegas, former UFC light heavyweight champion Chuck Liddell happily posed for what I labeled the “Chuck is one heck of a nice guy” shaka, filed alongside the “B.J. Penn is also a nice guy” shaka and the “Jason Scott Lee is also a nice guy” shaka.

Two of my most meaningful shakas came in 1996, when an 18-year-old Kobe Bryant offered an “NBA shaka” during Los Angeles Lakers training camp in Honolulu. I also captured one from Lakers legend Jerry West — a moment that still resonates.

In 1997, while filming in Hilo, Vanna White and Pat Sajak delivered “Wheel of Fortune shakas.” Actress Cheryl Ladd provided a classic “Charlie’s Angels shaka” at a Dolphin Days fundraiser, while Howie Mandel added to my collection years earlier.

The quirkiest entry came during a working vacation at a Tacoma Rainiers baseball game, where two concession workers dressed as hot dogs delivered a flawless “double hot dog shaka.”

At the 1999 grand reopening of Hilo’s Palace Theater, famed film critic Roger Ebert attended alongside Brook Lee — Miss Hawaiʻi USA ’97, Miss USA ’97, and Miss Universe ’97. I tried to coax him away from his trademark two-thumbs-up rating system. He compromised with one thumb up, while Brook Lee nailed the shaka. That image is forever labeled “Miss Universe local girl shaka — and a half.”

Historians trace Shaka’s origins to 1912, when Hamana Kalili, a worker at Kahuku Sugar Mill, lost three fingers in an industrial accident. Reassigned as a security officer for the train line between Kahuku and Sunset Beach, Kalili developed a distinctive wave using only his thumb and pinky. Children soon copied the gesture as a signal that it was safe to hop the train — unknowingly creating one of Hawaiʻi’s most enduring symbols.

More recently, four-year-old Makaio “Laakea” Kupukaa flashed a shaka to his mom after dancing hula. His innocent joy was a reminder of the shaka’s universal power — a simple gesture that transcends age, fame, and circumstance.

After all these years, the shaka remains what it has always been: a gesture of connection, kindness, and aloha — whether it comes from a president, a paddler, a pop star, a Hollywood sheriff, or a child dancing for his mom.

Mahalo for reading my story — and a double shaka back to you. 🤙🤙