Hawaii – Day 9

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Sunrise at Kahili Mountain Park on Kauai, Hawaii

We wake here at Fortress Kahili Mountain, where the hot water flows to the shower, the electricity is working, the temperature is perfect, and the sky is aflame in the glory of the rising sun. Uh-oh, the coffee maker is not functioning; we’ll have to venture away from our enclave.

Poipu Beach on Kauai, Hawaii

The crowds are out at Poipu, with the beach overflowing as tourists flock into the sea……NOT. The clouds are lighter than on the previous days, with a brisk wind coming from the east rearranging them quite quickly. While a large cloud or two will come along to blot out the sun, casting the beach into shadow, it too quickly moves on, allowing the sun to illuminate the turquoise waters. Caroline has been out there snorkeling but comes back to report that the fish are far and few between and then runs back.

Caroline Wise at Poipu Beach on Kauai, Hawaii

When my two-legged fish finally returns to shore, she is cut and bleeding from encounters with sharp volcanic rock, but she is all smiles. She wishes I was out with her but admits that the current is treacherous. With a sudden change of mind, Caroline decides she’s not had enough though she heads to the car first for her river shoes to better protect her already bleeding feet and then is back in the surf searching for sea life.

The horizon clears while behind me, the clouds pile up, hugging the mountains of Kauai. The molten silver sea seduces all who gaze upon it, eliminating tensions and leaving little for the mind to produce in the way of words. This likely has much to do with why Caroline and I return so frequently to the ocean that washes our brains with waves that hypnotize us into tranquility.

By the time we leave Poipu, we need that coffee we never had, and Starbucks will care for us on that front while another stop at Da Imu Hut Cafe serves us some fried seimen noodles along with a teriyaki fried chicken & steak combo. Learning that this inexpensive joint will be closed for the next four days as they are closed on weekends, plus the closure for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day we commit to return tonight for dinner.

At a fork in the road, it’s up to a proverbial coin toss if we will head to Waimea Canyon or Polihale State Park at the west end of the island. Left it is, and for the next 16 miles, we are on a paved road, but after that, it’s almost five miles on a washboard dirt road that feels like 80 miles of mainland dirt road. It is abundantly obvious by now that we’ve never been in this area.

Without knowing what was ahead, the primitive road was, at times, intimidating, especially not seeing anyone else on the road. We maneuvered the ruts and sandy spots with relative ease in our small rental car. Finally, at the beach and the end of the road, we found maybe 40 other cars parked down there. On our right is the mountain range that stretches across the Napali Coast, while on our left is the longest beach on all of Kauai.

This place is a treasure, and spending a day out here should be on everyone’s to-do list.

Caroline throws herself into the surf, or maybe more accurately, the surf pummeled her into submission, knocking her down. Having grown up in a world of flatwater, she is ill-equipped to deal with the crashing waves of the Pacific and is easily toppled by pounding surf, but as usual, she is having fun.

I instead opt for watching shorebirds, clouds, people, Caroline’s frolicking, and the dark green mountains with streaks of red earth cutting into them.

The air is so clean out here you can make out reliefs on the moon and almost believe you can see mountains rising off the surface. Behind me, the ocean gives no hint of its rise and fall other than what breaks at the shore. As that surf pulls back, the flat beach momentarily takes on the appearance of a mirror reflecting the few clouds that are overhead at any given moment. Surfers work the furthest set of waves in the distance while people on bodyboards are riding the next set. Waves at the shore are the domain of swimmers who are playing it safe where their feet are within reach of the sand below them.

We stay long enough for my face to start crisping, and that’s even with sunblock on and this hat that two years earlier was worn down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon and just this past summer went with me down the Alsek in Canada and Alaska. The truth is that my complexion is an easy target for a wrathful scorching sun looking to victimize those of fair complexion. Even with the sunburn setting in, we hung out a bit longer, and lucky us as some whales not far from shore were spouting off, sadly though there were no breaches.

On our way out of town earlier, we would have been smart to pick up refreshments because the 16-mile stretch of road and five dirt miles are without services. By the time we finally do get back into the car, we are parched and race back to Waimea for a stop at Ishihara’s to rehydrate.

With our thirst quenched, the idea of giving in to a little something sweet was sounding quite appealing, so we stopped at JoJo’s Shave Ice for their famous #2 with macadamia nut ice cream topped with guava, lilikoi, and mango syrups on the shave ice. As we walk out the door, we are greeted by yet another glorious rainbow. This prompts me to wonder out loud if Hawaiians care about seeing these things when they probably see a dozen or more a day.

It’s the first day we have been bathed with perpetual sunlight, even when it’s raining in one direction or the other. As sunset falls upon the middle of the Pacific, we have taken up a vantage point that has afforded us a view of Ni’ihau over to the right, and while impossible to see in this view, we have been spotting the arched backs of passing whales and their spouts of mist shooting above the surface of the sea.

As the sun crawls lower in the sky, readying itself to dip below the horizon, our lonely spot on the shore is no longer so lonely, as others have recognized the location as a desirable one to be witness to the end of the day.

Suckers for local flavors and the knowledge that Da Imu Hut Cafe will be closed for the next four days, it was established earlier that we’d be back, and sure enough, that is exactly where we find ourselves for dinner. We split a Lau Lau and a Loco Moco. By now, if you haven’t picked up on it in previous blog entries from this trip or the many others, you will start to notice that food plays a large role in our travels, especially local fare. Maybe you could suggest we visit L&L Hawaiian BBQ in Arizona or California? Well, that’s like eating Chinese food in Alabama or Mexican in New York. Foods indigenous to one area are typically poorly represented in another, as local palates have expectations for authenticity. Even in these areas where a particular food originates, it is somewhat uncommon to see tourists in the local joints, as many of them require weak-tasting approximations, added sugar, a side of ketchup or ranch, and some specifically boring children’s dishes such as cheese pizza or chicken strips.

A few days ago, shortly after arriving on Kauai, we visited Talk Story Bookstore and learned that on Friday night, there was an Art Walk through Old Town Hanapepe; we had to come back. Strolling the streets sharing a citrus-spiced cup of hot tea followed by a slice of caramel pecan apple pie while window shopping the various art galleries made for a great way to spend the early evening.

We celebrated the end of the fourth world here on the 13th b’ak’tun, or Maya date 13.0.0.0.0, which we read as December 21, 2012, and take solace in knowing that the apocalypse was either narrowly missed or it is so insidious as to be occurring outside our consciousness. I’ve waited for this day for 20 years since first learning about the “Mayan Prophecy” from Terence McKenna, and while it might play well to the story if I could tell you that we are here in Hawaii just in case it was the end of the human reign of earth, that would be a lie. By the way, this is the historic swinging bridge that crosses the Hanapepe River and was our last stop of the night before heading back to Kahili Mountain and the beginning of a new Mayan calendar.

Hawaii – Day 8

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Sunrise at Kahili Mountain Park on Kauai, Hawaii

The sun is slowly creeping over the mountains, allowing the water droplets on the surrounding plants to glisten. Clouds are showing hues of red and pink, triggering a chicken in these early moments of the new day to stroll right by me up the stairs of our cabin like this is what it does. By the time I can start to say the words “Caroline close the…..” that chicken was well within the four walls of its new prison and our hell. Two minutes earlier, it would have won a Darwin award as it bolted right for the gas stove that had been cooking our breakfast. Fortunately for us, we now only had to get a raucous chicken out the door it came through instead of dealing with a floundering ball of flames that would have likely burned our cabin to the ground.

Caroline immediately tried shooing it away, but it took flight and landed on a light fixture, where it cackled at my wife; surely it was laughing at her. It’s almost three seconds into our tropical chicken adventure before I join Caroline, who is now armed with a broom and trying to take a swat at the unwelcome boisterous guest. I’m barely through the door which blocked its escape; my bad. Encountering me at the entrance, the chicken bolts left to land on our bed. I rush it, but this chicken is mind-reading my intention and launches itself overhead to land on the top of the bathroom door. Either in a show of fear or total disrespect, it let off a gob of liquishit. Not to be distracted, we keep up the pressure, but it’s already landing on my clean shirt on the second bed. I’m certain it is there to display supremacy and shit on my clothes but lucky for us, it was out of ammunition.

All of a sudden, the chicken is not at my center of focus as Caroline has gone primordial and becomes as animated as our fowl friend. She leaps on the bed in what can only be described as a dominant chicken pose and corners the errant bird. Two or three exchanges of position and Caroline establishes her place in the food chain using her shirt as a bullfighter’s mantilla, ushering this bird brain right out the door. We are near-hysterical in laughter at this point from the chaos this chicken has brought.

Now able to eat our breakfast, it isn’t long before Caroline is under the banana leaves showering while I purge our nest of the poo our visitor left us. We briefly discussed staying here the entire day to explore the 197 acres of the park, but instead will head to Hanalei.

Caroline Wise at Hanalei Strings Yarn Store on Kauai, Hawaii

It’s before 9:00 as we travel down Kauai’s first paved road toward Koloa. This tree-lined tunnel is beautiful and a pleasure to travel on every time. I’m loathe to turn around to continue on our journey from this brief detour, and going all the way to the fish market doesn’t matter anyway, as they don’t open until 10:00. But you never know if things can go your way unless you try your chances. I pulled up right in front of their door, which was slightly ajar, stepped in while excusing myself, and blurted out, “We’d just LOVE two poke Bentos for the road today.” The guy says, “Sure!”

Back through the tunnel, I turned off the main road toward Anini Beach. It’s gorgeous here, perfect even. Some windsurfers are in the shallows, receiving lessons in the art of standing on a tiny board in a vast ocean. Watching them exercise their determination as they crawl back up, again and again, we decided why wait for lunch so we broke out our brunch and accepted that we might be overeating today.

Finally, at the Hanalei Strings shop, where they sell yarn and ukuleles, Caroline is on one side stroking the fibers before rubbing them on her cheek to see if they pass the softness test while I was looking at ukes.

For over a decade I’ve listened to Caroline tell me how she’d like to learn how to play this instrument that is so very intertwined with Hawaii. Now, here we are in Hawaii at a shop that sells these things, and she wants to hem and haw about not having the time to learn it, how much they cost, and that she could order one online in the future.

I took her over to the counter, and the saleswoman put a ukulele in her hands. She showed Caroline a C chord and told her to strum it; her face turned to ukulele happiness. I could feel her starting to crack. Another uke was handed to her, and then another; this last one was a $1200 work of art. I asked, “Anything between the $65 Chinese unit and this Stratokalele?” Not able to choose between what we were shown, we asked the lady to play the three models she had chosen. A locally made ukulele ended up the winner and a free case was thrown in! If only you could have seen Caroline’s face as she walked away from Hanalei Strings with her great new uke.

Not able to spend another penny in Hanalei, we set off to finish the drive west; we didn’t make it, though, because the police had the road blocked. So we turned around to visit the Limahuli Garden and Preserve we’d passed along the way.

This is the kukui or candlenut tree and is the state tree of Hawaii. At one time, they were used for making candles, hence their name. The blossom of the kukui is also the official island lei material of Moloka’i.

The bird of paradise related to the banana plant is not native to the islands but is instead from South Africa.

Monstera deliciosa is also not a native of Hawaii, though these invasive species thrive here. You might have guessed that this is also known as the Swiss cheese plant.

The thick green blanket eats light while tossing back oxygen and moisture it doesn’t have a need for. This exchange conveys the necessities the majority of life on our planet requires to be alive. How we treat it is a measure of how we effectively treat our mothers.

The blood of trees flows out of the forest, allowing us to participate in the ritual of replacing the water that must also flow through us.

Cellular level activity not only creates the plant itself but powers the machine that pumps water from the ground into the sky. The plant is the membrane that exists between us and the vacuum of nothingness.

Breadfruit at Limahuli Garden and Preserve on Kauai, Hawaii

Breadfruit is said to taste like potato and, when cooked, is similar to freshly baked bread. The wood pulp of this plant is used for making paper and cloth, as we described on Day 4 while in Hawaii visiting the Bishop Museum. Click here to view that entry.

Upon the sunlight, plant, and water Caroline and I are afforded the fuel that allows our bodies to move our brains around in order that our senses collect impressions and skills that we will share with others. Such is the symbiosis of being alive on Earth.

I try to imagine life in Hawaii 300 years ago on an island without predators. A place where food easily grows, fresh water is abundant, and the essentials of life surround you. On any given day, one could jump into the warm waters of the ocean or meander on a circumnavigation of the island, as there would be no demand for one to return to operate a machine or pay rent. I can only wonder what the future holds for a society bent on a kind of enslavement to both ignorance and economy.

Opeakaa Falls in Wailua is our last stop of the day before returning to our cabin in order to wash the clothes that have eight days of accumulated grime on them. After performing our laundry chores, Caroline fires up the ukelele and crushes a virtuoso rendition of The Hawaiian War Chant. No, she didn’t, she actually kind of roughed it, but for a few minutes, I felt like we were in the Tiki Room at Disneyland, kind of.

Just in case tomorrow is the apocalypse, or some other version of doom unfolds that involves the end of the world, we at least were out in Hawaii and were pretty happy being here while it lasted.

Hawaii – Day 7

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

It rained overnight, over and over again, using the tin roof as a musical instrument that sang to us. The lyrics told of how the other drops that were falling to earth were feeding the plants and nourishing the land in order to keep Kauai happy. The light breeze gently blew through the open windows, and we slept like we were at home; we were cozy here. The full night of sleep lasted until the first light of morning stirred us awake.

Every few minutes, it rains and then slows to a stop, only to pick up again a few minutes later. The stream of clouds, while denying us a proper sunrise, works hard to make up for it by offering a dramatic show of cumulus clouds. We bask under the sky with our tropically enhanced breakfast of oatmeal and fresh starfruit, enjoyed with hot coffee outside on the front porch, pinching ourselves that this is our life today. Watching the world, we are one with our laziness. Chickens have come out to start their day pecking at the wet earth, looking for their own version of tropical breakfast. We indulge sky and fowl by being witness to their existence.

It’s nearly 11:00 before we leave the really slow life to join the normal slow life that exists beyond our encampment under Kahili Mountain. And just what was it that motivated us to put down the pen and the drop spindle? Poke bento from the Koloa Fish Market, of course. From the mud road over to the tree tunnel down to the small village by the sea, we collect our early lunch and look for the perfect spot to sit down and enjoy it. That spot is on the way to a spouting horn on the other side of Poipu. There’s a short wall here that becomes a picnic table where we dig into this mixture of ahi, seaweed, sesame, sea salt, wasabi cream, and rice. Another band of rain pushes us back to the car, and we are once again on the move.

On the way to the spouting horn, we passed a botanical garden and made a note that we thought we’d like to return and visit its grounds. The spout is busy as the ocean pumps water into a tube that feeds this hydraulic show. I’m comfortable sitting here watching the ocean while Caroline walks over to visit the vendors that have set up shop at the end of this road. The impromptu “mall” is reminiscent of the gift and jewelry stands we find being run by Navajos in Arizona and New Mexico

With no plan for what to do with the day, we stick to that plan and will simply go where our impulse takes us. After leaving the Poipu / Koloa area we head for the main road and spot a sign pointing us to the Old Road to Lihue – sounds perfect. The drive is exceptional in its beauty. If you were to think that I say this about all the roads in Hawaii, you’d probably be right. Our road travels through a broad green valley with lush mountains ahead and golden grasses lining the asphalt. There are not enough superlatives to exclaim our awe and good fortune that we caught the sign that has pulled us into this seductive landscape. While we creep ahead on this car-less road at five mph, we’d prefer to be walking it.

Following a curve in the road, we turn the corner to eye an even bigger surprise: the Menehune Fishponds or, more appropriately, the Alekoko Fishpond. Legend has it that this 1000-year-old lake was built by the Menehune “little people” in a night. No matter the source, this is a great example of early aquaculture that has survived for ten centuries.

Looking for old town Lihue when yet another sign drew our attention, this time to the Kauai Museum. It’s a small affair that charges $10 for entry, but the two-story building next door houses part of the exhibit, so the cost feels reasonable and we decide to go for it. This place has held on for 53 years now and is starting to show its age. I should point out that our ticket is good for a week.

Having visited the Bishop Museum in Honolulu and Waimea Valley earlier in the trip, this scene portrays what we see in our imagination now as to what Hawaii might have looked like back when Captain Cook landed around the corner. There are a few gaps of information and history that are filled in with this visit, but nothing really illuminating.

Great, I didn’t take a single note about what this was, but I believe it’s a crust of salt found near the salt ponds where saltwater would be evaporated for the collection of this all-important mineral.

One of the staff, upon hearing of our interest in the music of Queen Lili`uokalani (she wrote Aloha Oe), brought us over to Paul Isenberg’s family piano to sit down and play it. Who is Paul Isenberg? He’s the guy who moved from Germany to Hawaii to develop the sugar cane industry for the Kingdom of Hawaii. In 1918, during World War I, the operation was seized by the United States and sold to a consortium of Hawaiian businessmen. They renamed H. Hackfeld and Company to American Factors, which was shortened in the 1930s to Amfac. That company’s non-Hawaiian assets were bought by a Chicago realty company in 1988 that later renamed itself Xanterra Parks and Resorts and is the company that Caroline and I have used countless times to book stays from the Grand Canyon to Yellowstone. The piano is over 100 years old and was made in Leipzig, Germany.

Our intention was to head north to Kapaa, but a traffic jam turned us around, so we stopped at the “famous” Mark’s Place for dinner. One big MEH was our response to this allegedly popular joint. At 6:00, we dipped into a theater to watch the newly released The Hobbit, which elicited another big MEH.

Ended the day after a lackluster late afternoon with a shower under the banana leaves using our wonderful outdoor shower. We split a slice of haupia and purple yam pie we’d been saving from the Koloa Fish Market and sat down to write and listen to the rain. The windows are open and will remain so for the duration of our stay. The breeze is cool, and around 11:00 p.m., we start to consider getting some sleep.

Hawaii – Day 6

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

The phone rang at 6:00 to wake us. We’re already packed, so we have a few moments to take in the view from our oceanfront balcony. We remind each other of the setting sliver of a moon last night that shone for a moment between passing mists of rain and glistened its light across the ocean. The farm stand, unfortunately isn’t open at 7:00 a.m., although the old ladies were already out there setting up. A collapsing ruin of a building we’d passed a few times on the side of the road demanded attention and so I added to the photo collection yet another memento to remind us of this perfect adventure.

One should wonder if a day in Hawaii is even possible without a rainbow. Breakfast out here today will have to happen at Starbucks for the sake of convenience; such is the cost of a little pleasure. With the encroaching weather pushing us along during our drive to the Oahu airport, there wasn’t much left to see, and there were no signs pointing us to where we could attend a meet and greet with President Obama. Not that there was one scheduled during their Christmas vacation, but it sure would have been nice had the family taken a moment to say hi to Caroline and me. Instead, we fill the tank with some expensive Hawaiian gas, return the rental car, and take the shuttle to the airport. Within an hour, we are on our way to Lihue, Kauai.

Six long years we’ve waited for this return to the Koloa Fish Market and the BEST poke bento we’ve ever enjoyed. This was our first meal on Kauai back then, and it’s our first meal on the island once again. It’s as great now as it is in our memories. On previous stops here, we’d never tried the dessert as each of us having our own bento was more than enough food, but now we’d acquired the taste for haupia, and the version here is served as a two-layer slice of pie, one haupia, and the other purple yam. Now dancing in gastronomic nirvana, we are able to go check into our cabin.

Cabin #24 – we know it well. We stayed in this very unit on our first visit, so this is a fond return to Kahili Mountain Park. Penny at the front desk checks us in and lends us some beach towels and two bodyboards before informing us there are a couple of treats waiting for us in the cabin. We are now all set up for the next week here in Kauai. Wow, an entire week!

Our primitive island cabin, though how primitive is a place in the middle of the Pacific with running water, a gas stove, refrigerator, flush toilets, microwave, lights, and locking door? Well, many people would find a place with no real interior walls, walls that in places we can see through, and screens that almost invite the mosquitos to join you in comfort for a snack, along with an outdoor shower to be a bit rough around the edges. For us, it is absolutely 100% perfection. On the other hand, the resorts that are closer to the ocean, while offering some nice views, cannot deliver the character and sense of unique experience that we find right here.

All the amenities, including the fact that there is NOT a television in this cabin. Pure luxury if you ask me.

One minute, it’s dark clouds and rainbows, and the next…

….it’s blue skies and bookstores. How had we missed Hanapepe on our previous visit? This small town is the home of Lilo & Stitch, and somehow, it never registered back then. Well, as interesting as that is, we are drawn in by Talk Story Bookstore, which claims to be the westernmost independent bookstore in the United States. Cynthia and Ed are the proprietors, and while we were only going to dip in and out, we ended up in the store for a good hour talking about travels, winners of Pulitzers, and stuff.

As we were about to leave, Cynthia invited us to their backyard, picked about a dozen starfruits, and offered them to us. We are now like puppies that have been shown kindness.

We leave the bookstore as yet another rainbow spreads smiles across the landscape.

Ah, the lovely plumeria we tried to grow in Arizona. Sure, it does best in tropical environments, and they thrive in Florida, can be found in California and there are those who’ve been able to successfully cultivate them in the desert, but we were not a party to that skill. Instead, we must photograph them and remember their delicate scent and the beauty seen where they effortlessly offer themselves in abundance.

Seeing we were in the general area, we went over to the Salt Ponds to check out the situation. During our trip planning, I’d considered camping for the duration of our time on Kauai, but I started finding unflattering reviews of some of the campsites, so I had second thoughts. The Salt Ponds were to be our campgrounds for the first three nights, and I was fairly certain that the reviews had not done justice to the place, but on our arrival, the conditions were affirmed to be on the hostile side. From the windowless POS racing around to the drunks and others sending us the “stink eye” or maka pilau in Hawaiian, we had made the better choice in choosing to return to the cabin.

A sign suggests we turn here to visit Ft. Elizabeth, so we oblige and head down the road. This is an old Russian fort that is now in ruin. Little remains beside the base of the walls. It doesn’t look like the fort was ever completed, as the Russians’ time in Hawaii was short before being given the boot. Hawaiians took possession of it, worked on it for a short while, and then let it fall into disrepair. More interesting than that narrative was the information on hand that claims that right here at the mouth of the Waimea River is the location where Captain James Cook first landed back on January 20, 1778.

Back on the move, propelled by Rainbow Power, we were driving into Waimea to pay a visit to the Ishihara Market. One can learn a lot about what it’s like to live somewhere by visiting local grocery stores. From the market, we walked over to Big Save, followed by Foodland and Tamura’s. What did we learn here? There is a big demand on the islands for snacks, bags and bags of various crunchy snacks. We also learned not to leave those bags open because the high humidity kills crunchy on contact, not exactly a problem for those of us who dwell in deserts.

A few doors down from these shops, we discover Aunty Lilikoi, purveyors of all things passion fruit. We bought everything. From lilikoi butter, lilikoi wasabi mustard, lilikoi pepper & salt seasoning, lilikoi mui (a preserve/chutney with whiskey and salt) to lilikoi pie, we seriously bought it all.

It will be dark before we reach Koloa near our cabin, and so knowing we cannot make it in time for another poke bento, we take the advice from Ed from Talk Story and stop in at Da Imu Hut Cafe in Hanapepe for some dinner [Update: permanently closed]. Pork lau lau and kalua pork fill our stomachs and weigh heavy in there as we travel up the muddy and bumpy road to our cabin. This place feels familiar; it’s wonderful to be back in Kauai.

At times, it is my bane to sit down and write. With night upon us, I, at times return to pre-industrial man where darkness signified that it was time to sleep. Dread of falling behind inspires me to set pen to paper, as it is difficult to catch up, and yet on those occasions where I opt not to write at all, I often regret not having the notes that fill in so many tiny details that flesh out a vacation and fill the gaps that would have otherwise been lost.

Hawaii – Day 5

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Our last day on O’ahu greets us with a double rainbow.

We were up early for the sunrise and a walk in the surf. We can’t quite see the sun yet, but its reflection off the hotel glistens on the water, and soon, we, too, will emerge from the shadows. Along with the light, our hunger arrives, dragging us towards Sunset Beach with a stop at the farm stand we’ve been visiting nearly every day to stock up on pineapple and coconut to accompany our bananas: the breakfast of paradise.

Maybe the Pipeline Surf Championship is over because there are hardly any cars here this morning, and it looks like the stands are being taken down. With this abundance of parking, we stop for a while to check out those who are out on these pristine waters. These two guys above are on about their 10th attempt of getting on their boards at the right moment, getting close enough to perform the trick they are attempting and make the leap to execute it.

Blam…..they nailed it and threw their hands in the air in celebration

While the guys were trying to surf two to a board, a young woman had paddled out with her bodyboard and proceeded to power shred these waves with some gnarly spins and serious strength on display. Two boys, maybe about eight years old, were the next to join the others out on the water. After paddling out, they proved their mettle and surfed the Pipeline like seasoned pros; those kids have sand!

Okay, enough of playing the observer; time to get back out there as we are prodded by the rain that comes rolling in. Oh yeah, we changed our mind about the drive west and have turned around to go south.

Where is the day going? It’s almost noon as we leave the Pali Highway to enter Honolulu, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s lunchtime, and we have an appetite. Where else would we go but back to Ono Hawaiian Foods Cafe, where we ate after we landed in Hawaii last Thursday, and seeing it’s Sunday we’ll just call this church.

Our feast consisted of poi, Portuguese sausage, salt meat, and watercress, along with some lau lau, which, as a reminder, is pork wrapped in taro leaf. Dessert was haupia with some extra haupia. I’ll explain: as we sat there stuffed and very satisfied at the end of this culinary orgy, the owner brought us another portion of haupia. We tried waving him off, explaining someone else had already delivered our haupia, to which he replied, “You’re doing just fine.” We shut up and ate up.

Honolulu has a traffic density that compares to the worst of Los Angeles. It took us one hour to drive less than 10 miles, and when we arrived at our destination, it was raining hard. So it goes regarding the rain, though, as it has rained off and on every day we’ve been here. Once parked in a garage, we quickly pay for our entry into Iolani Palace, home of the last of the Hawaiian monarchy.

What a giant tragic mess this building represents. On one hand, it was the royal home after its completion in 1882, but within about a dozen years, it became the prison of Queen Lili’uokalani, who was the last monarch to ever oversee the islands. Contact with the West proved fatal for Hawaiian autonomy. The laying of the cornerstone of this building and convincing Hawaiian rulers they would be taken more seriously if they could entertain dignitaries in a palace was likely a ruse to start gaining the trust of those in government.

With America becoming entrenched in the affairs of the islands, it was likely already well thought out that when those loyal to the U.S. mainland made their move against the monarchy, the troops would move in from offshore to raise the American flag. From that point forward, it was only a matter of time before this territory would become a state, and the Hawaiian people would lose their lands.

Now, we are supposed to visit this palace and marvel at the modern Western-centric monarchy that is being romanticized into something that only happened due to them allowing us onshore. America’s history is, in large part, built on the displacement of native peoples from both their lands and culture. Shortly before Hawaii fell fully into American hands, the Dawes Act of 1887 authorized the federal government to break up reservations in an effort to bring Native Americans into mainstream U.S. society in order to assimilate them and destroy their cultural and social traditions. For over 100 years, right up until 2007, we were still forcing Native American children into boarding schools in the continuing effort to “Kill the Indian to save the man.” This policy didn’t have so much to do with the fact that they were Indians, but that the ruling dominant culture saw them as indigenous primitives it could equate with animals, just as we appeared to be doing with Hawaiians.

You can visit every room in the palace and never feel that you’ve seen anything of Hawaiian origin or culture. We visitors to Hawaii then fool ourselves into believing that a visit to a beach, snorkeling, attending a luau at a resort, or donning a lei put on us by a Hawaiian at the airport upon our arrival is immersing us in Hawaiian culture. We are idiots buying a fantasy TV version of reality that has been candy-coated. Don’t get me wrong, I love the scenery and the tropical paradise of this environment, but whatever Hawaii once was is mostly gone now, and it’s a tragedy.

This is not the face of Hawaii; it is the facade of domination and conquest. It is effectively a grave.

O’ahu has proven to be educational, romantic, beautiful, and mostly fun. The conflict that exists within me regards the misconceptions that are allowed and encouraged to remain dominant is why I have to qualify that this has been “mostly” fun. It would be far too callous to dance on the graves of a culture and never pay respect to what one’s ancestors had to pay in order to just survive. Yet here I am today, trying to reconcile within myself how I can wear a smile knowing the truth.

Grilled pineapple and jalapenos on a burger never tasted so good as they do here in Hawaii, so a third and final visit to the Kahuku Grill felt in order before returning to the hotel for a swim and some writing.

Hawaii – Day 4

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Up with an alarm and gone from the North Shore by 6:15 as we were heading back towards Honolulu for an 8:30 reservation. Should have visited Kalaupapa National Historic Park on Molokai back when we visited that island in 2006; then, after today, we would have visited all of the major National Parks in the Hawaiian islands. We are going to Pearl Harbor which is referred to officially as the World War II Valor in the Pacific National Monument. I suppose it’s okay that there are things that will be left undone out here in the middle of the Pacific that can draw us back for a third visit. So besides the former leper colony on Molokai, we still have to visit Lanai, hike the Kalalau Trail on the Napali Coast, swim with sea turtles (not really all that important), and go to an official luau at a resort – never mind, there is NO way we will ever do that – EVER!

Before venturing further, Caroline has to stop at the information desk to collect her Junior Ranger booklet and get busy identifying what she needs to accomplish to be sworn in later as a Junior Ranger.

The USS Arizona, a pre-World War I “super-dreadnought” battleship destroyed during World War II, is the main attraction here at the memorial. At the time the ship was built, Arizona had just become the 48th state of America, hence the commemoration.

As anyone who is interested in visiting Pearl Harbor already likely knows, there’s a short naval boat ride out to the USS Arizona Memorial and the most iconic site here.

Almost 71 years to the day after the Japanese bombed this port and sank the USS Arizona, the oil still leaking from below is evident. In contrast to the tragedy, it is quite beautiful on the surface of the water.

Fortunately, the visitors to this solemn place are acting accordingly and showing the respect that should always be afforded to locations where an act of barbarism took so many lives. This sense of physical presence of the tragedy is reminiscent of feelings had while visiting Dachau, Manzanar Japanese Internment Camp, Custer’s Last Stand, Gettysburg, and the Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia.

Usually, the place of a human death doesn’t immediately become a memorial. The evidence is removed from the place where it happened, as human remains are taken to a cemetery or to cremation. Here, we must confront that the rusting hulk of a vessel just below us still holds the remains of over 950 soldiers who died aboard this craft. They were not able to be brought by a family member to a proper resting place, but then again, what is more appropriate than using the site of a grievous act of war as a reminder of our transgressions that take so many lives?

A place of contrasts where the beauty of Hawaii is also the site of the beginning of America’s entering World War II, a harbor where the tropical setting of palm trees and the ocean is also the setting for a mass grave, where dark clouds loom over paradise.

We see so little of the battleship standing out of the water, it’s difficult to imagine that there is so much ship just below us, but this model demonstrates the scale of what is just out of sight.

The museum back on the mainland has a great exhibit that goes into the details surrounding that fateful day. This piece of heavy steel shows what the force of the bombs was doing as they unceremoniously shredded into reality and tore at the fabric of our sense of peace.

Like all National Park facilities, there’s a Junior Ranger program for those interested in learning more about the history and importance of a location while gaining a better understanding of being a steward of America’s most important lands and facilities. Caroline is collecting yet another nearly perfect score as she does her best in our rather brief visits to finish not just the requirements for becoming a Junior Ranger but to do all of the exercises and learn just a little bit more.

We left Pearl Harbor now hungry as our breakfast of bananas and pineapple was wearing thin. I’d already scoped that the Highway Inn might be a lunchtime winner, so we headed over to Waipahu and, in an unassuming strip mall, started our wait. Twenty minutes later, we had a small table and were trying to figure out what to eat. Considering this might be the first and last chance to ever visit this eatery, we got indulgent and started with an appetizer of Kahlua pork and purple yam in a quesadilla topped with mango salsa. Already, the meal was super yum squared. Next up was the laulau combo with pork and a side of squid lū’au. Determined to gain a wide sampling of their dishes, we ordered some of the made-to-order tako poke. In case you don’t know, or if Caroline is reading this to me when I’m old and in the throes of dementia, tako is the Japanese word for octopus. This dish is served with a creamy wasabi sauce, onion, and ginger miso, and it alone should have qualified the Highway Inn as great, but there was more. Haupia, oh my god, this was the greatest haupia we’ve yet had! And while it is just coconut pudding, it was the best coconut pudding.

Seeing that we were already in the Honolulu area, we decided to head over to the Bishop Museum, where Hawaiian and Polynesian history is on display. Our introduction to the facility was right here in the main hall and while difficult to see down on the ground floor, there was a men’s choir singing Hawaiian songs and lending a terrific start to our visit.

Our brief concert was followed by this gentleman giving a talk about clothing and feathers of which the exact details escape me as I’m trying to write about the day.

Along the way, we encounter a story that speculates that it may have been a group of people from Southeast China that had ventured away from the mainland and went on to discover and populate the Polynesian Islands before embarking on the journey over the ocean to populate the Hawaiian Islands. Funny how, growing up in America, I learned nearly nothing about the rich history of anyone else on Earth other than those we conquered.

Stone and wood tools were common in Hawaii, as there were no early steelworks. Wood has a difficult time surviving the centuries, but there are plenty of stone artifacts here at the Bishop. This particular tool was used for mashing foodstuffs, particularly taro, for the making of poi.

This urn with embedded human teeth is so interesting that I wish I’d photographed the card that explained its utility or symbolic meaning. So without that, I can only present you with an urn of teeth, not something I’ve ever seen in another museum or at any friend’s house.

Weavings in the form of mats, basketry, and cloth are represented well in the museum with great examples.

This is Kapa, as it is known in Hawaii; in the broader Pacific Islands, it is more widely known as tapa. Tapa, depending on how it’s prepared, can act as a cloth or be used as paper. It is often made of mulberry or breadfruit bark and was a common form of clothing before the introduction of cotton.

Lei Niho Palaoa, which is Hawaiian for a necklace of hair and whale ivory, is on display here. The hair was from a person of nobility and was diligently collected because it was thought to contain the power or “Mana” of the person it had belonged to. Interesting to see this mythology that there was strength and power represented by hair stretching from the Middle East to Native Americans to Polynesian culture, and it makes me wonder if the modern-day habit of keeping one’s hair cropped short and beard shaved clean isn’t a form of disempowerment.

The Ahu ʻula is a feathered cape made of hundreds of thousands of feathers that were delicately harvested a few at a time from living birds who were then set free to continue producing these valuable feathers. Why were they so important to early Hawaiians? Because the Ahu ʻula was worn by people of great power to provide spiritual protection. Seeing these in person is nearly as extraordinary as seeing the Grand Canyon with one’s own eyes; they are spectacular, profound even.

Masks of tattooed wooden figures are common among the Pacific Islanders, and as part of the culture and tradition of these areas, they are featured in the museum to help tell the story of customs and art shared across such a vast region.

So, while we are a bit gun-shy and apprehensive about the tourist zones of Honolulu, Waikiki, and Diamond Head, we slowly warm up to their appeal, but probably more due to our interest in the history of Hawaii found here rather than the consumer and tourist culture. While still in the area with time to spare, we’ll continue on our exploration that started today in the southwest and trek up the western shore of O’ahu.

Our destination up Highway 93 is Kaʻena Point State Park. Wouldn’t you just know it, the side of the island that is a predominantly indigenous area would be the desert side?

Compared to the North Shore, the ocean here is calm, with almost no surf.

With about two hours of driving to return to our lodging at Turtle Bay, we scope the area here on the western shore and quickly turn around to head back. On the other side of the island, we encounter a steady rain that is dimming our hopes for another spectacular sunset. No big deal, really, as we are having a perfect time with whatever comes our way. After a mediocre dinner, we arrived again at the hotel to a blustery, occasionally rainy evening that suggested we head to sleep early. But who goes to sleep at 9:00 p.m.? Old people, that’s who, are we old now? Maybe it’s that we’ve been going for over 15 constant hours? Nah, we’re just getting old.