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.

Hawaii – Day 3

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Taking our time may be contrary to our natures, but we’ve been to Hawaii before and so we are committed to this visit to go slow. Six years ago, we couldn’t be blamed for thinking our time on the islands might be our first and last, and so we rushed to see as much as we could. We’re certainly older but probably no wiser (besides being Wise), still, we have to try and make the most of our limited resource of time and immerse ourselves as deeply as possible so our memories might form deep roots.

Caroline and I are in some ways like the water lilies in this photo or would like to be. Meaning that while we find beauty on the surface and can explore delight in the watery garden floating on still-glistening water, our connection to even a muddy foundation is held fast. And though our roots are immovable regarding who we are in our essence, we are like the bloom standing tall over the water below, catching a breeze that has us waving in the wind so we may see more of the world we live in and upon.

If we never moved, how could we be here to encounter flowers such as this? The non-sentient plant will send out its seed, and with favorable conditions and a vast enough space across time, it might spread its species to faraway corners. That plant, though, will never know where its descendants ultimately ended up. We humans, on the other hand, are sentient beings that briefly have a near-total awareness of our place, and with our ability to recollect our past, we can choose to live a life full of experiences that define something more than mere existence at the moment. We, too, will never know where our descendants may go, but we can know where we have been and what we’ve learned.

This doesn’t require us to go to Hawaii to gather these lessons, but it does mean we have to look closer at the world around us. Not everyone is as fortunate as Caroline and I or maybe as curious either; this, though, doesn’t inhibit people from at least becoming aware of a lack of curiosity and then cultivating it. Slow down, read about things you know nothing about such as the history of Alexander von Humboldt or the ocean crossings of Thor Heyerdahl. These are only examples of something you may not yet have heard about, but these people and what they found played important roles in our perspectives of how people have come to relate to our Earth. The same goes for others who ventured out on unsure footings either on the surface of our planet or in the depths of their mind. Just because there’s nothing below you but a thin leaf of support doesn’t mean that the view of the world from above is nothing less than spectacular. First, you must take the risk of exploring areas and things you never knew existed.

We are exploring the Waimea Valley Botanical Garden and we’re taking our time to do it. The Waimea Valley here on the North Shore of O’ahu is what is known as an ahupua‘a. That somewhat difficult word to pronounce for non-Hawaiians is a pie-like slice of land that stretches from the interior of the island to shore and was considered to have everything required for a group of Hawaiians to properly live and thrive. In the highlands were medicinal plants and the woods required for dwellings and watercraft. Below that is farmland for bananas, taro, breadfruit, sweet potato, and coconut. At the sea, an abundance of fish was readily available for the early Polynesians who discovered the islands to enjoy their island paradise. Today, the Waimea Valley is 1,875 acres of land, of which the botanical garden occupies 300 acres. Within this corner of the island, there are over 5,000 tropical and subtropical plants. We plan to see each and every one of them.

On our second visit to the biome known as a tropical forest, we became more familiar with one of the major habitats we humans have populated. To date, Caroline and I have visited six of the eight major biomes, and although we were close to a boreal forest while we were in Quebec last year, we have yet to visit one; the same goes for the tundra. The list of habitats is as follows: tundra, taiga (also called boreal forest), temperate deciduous forest (Eastern United States), scrub forest (called chaparral in California), grassland (the Great Plains), desert (we live in one of the major desert types of which there are four), tropical rain forest (right here on Hawaii), and temperate rainforests such as the ones we visit in Oregon and Washington.

Champagne beehive ginger, just the name, makes you want to sample it. Maybe the gift shop has some beehive ginger candy? Nope, other than an infrequent food item and some alleged medicinal use there’s not much the plant offers at this time other than it’s beautiful. Hmmm, when I think about it this way, it’s much like the majority of life, and I guess that’s good enough.

You know you always wanted to go to Heliconia and back. You can’t, though, because Heliconia isn’t a place, and it’s not found in Arizona either. This tropical plant is also known as lobster-claw, toucan peak, wild plantains, or false bird-of-paradise. The white seeds in the claw are not ripe yet; when they are, they will turn a dark blue-purple, which drives the birds wild; well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it sure sounds dramatic.

This is a picture of a tropical donkel. Yes, you read that right, part donkey, part camel. You’ll notice the large protruding hump on its back, which is unique to the female of the species. Darwin once speculated that the male of the species is too lazy to carry his own shit and that, somehow, it convinced the female to adapt and evolve this permanent growth on its back where the male could store the things he couldn’t be bothered to carry. The two enjoy a symbiotic relationship where the ass and donkel are able to move through the environment with everything needed for survival carried by the docile female.

I’m not even going to try and tell you what this is because I have no idea, but it looked amazing.

It’s already a lucky day just being on O’ahu, but here we are getting to see the endangered Hawaiian Moorhen, also called `alae `ula in Hawaiian. Not only is it endangered and rare, but the bird is typically quite secretive and will dash for cover at any disturbance. There are an estimated 250 to 450 of the birds left and we had this opportunity to see one with our very own eyes. So, while anybody could have watched the North Shore surfing competition live or on TV at some point, few will ever be witness to this bird’s existence.

Anybody who has talked with me will know that I just have to go where I’m going next. Look at the beauty of this flower and how the contrast of it standing out against the green background makes it all the more striking. Now imagine the people who once populated these islands being priced out of their lands because wealthier folks drive them out. The Hawaiian islanders were like this flower against a green backdrop; they stood out and were free to be wherever they popped up and found themselves on their ancestral lands. Revisionist histories of warlike people with a rich tradition of the warrior are, in my opinion, a bullshit cockamamie romanticized story that is used by conquering douche-bags to justify why the savages had to be contained. It is us white people who wanted control and wealth in addition to purging the earth of species and peoples that were considered inferior. Now, we know that we took their lands by sleight of hand, but even with this knowledge, there is no way in heaven that the 50th state of America will be allowed to return to its sovereign roots. I’d like to say that at least Native Americans were given reservations, but for the most part, we isolated them on lands we felt near worthless with little to harvest, mine, or steal from to build our own wealth; our ancestors kept that for themselves. In some way, this flower and the bird above have more rights and freedoms than the average indigenous Hawaiian. Paradise loses some of its luster should you look too deeply because, under the surface, you’ll often find muck.

The traditional dwellings in Waimea Valley are mostly not accessible by the general public, but a few can be visited such as this one. The valley here is a sacred site to Hawaiians where many high-ranking people would have lived and where religious ceremonies were practiced. At one time, the area was referred to as the Valley of the Priests. Prior to the protection of the area, the valley was owned by a land developer who was also responsible for the Kahala Hilton, which today is known as Kahala Resort and will cost you an arm and a leg to stay at.

This may forever be my favorite canopy photo I’ll have ever taken. The fractal nature of the trees and near-even distribution of leaves with just enough branches to paint the appearance of arteries stretching to the sky to harvest the nutrient of sunshine delights my eyes and brings back fond memories of amazement.

There’s much to learn and an equal amount to see here at Waimea Valley Botanical Garden. Time and hunger are pushing us towards the exit, but visiting has been a treat. We are well aware that being next to a pool, on a beach, or being seen in the coolest watering hole or a trendy restaurant means more to the average visitor to Hawaii, but we are not those kinds of visitors. Sadly it is the image of the buffoon tourist and their conformist ideas of what a vacation is that drives a larger amount of money into an economy. Caroline and I can only hope that places like this continue to draw in enough people to maintain their upkeep and pay staff so wildlands remain available. The places of history should always be cherished shrines where humanity strives to preserve our heritage so future generations can also celebrate those who have come before them.

I shot 132 images here in Waimea Valley and have shared just 15. There were another half dozen I would have liked posting, but already, this is a lot of plants and none of the images one has come to expect from a visit to Hawaii. As we are leaving I look over at this curious-looking bird and wonder what it’s thinking and then realize maybe it’s just listening for the movement of insects so it can grab a meal, like we are about to do.

Fortunately for us, we don’t have to put an ear to the asphalt and try to pull a bug out of crack to satisfy our hunger. Instead, we spot a food truck called Nakai Saimin and decide it has our flavor of gourmet written all over it. Their claim to fame on their sign is “Fresh Homemade Noodles,” and so that’s what Caroline opts for; I went for the Loco Moco. For whose dish was better, I think it was hands down mine. Loco Moco is a relatively simple dish of a hamburger patty on white rice topped with an egg and brown gravy, but like so many “simple” dishes, it is the totality of the parts that create a chemistry that goes far beyond the average ingredients. This was the GREATEST Loco Moco I’ve ever had and the standard for which all that will follow will have to compare to. Caroline is enjoying some fresh coconut next to our Jeep. We’d have preferred something with better gas mileage, but it seems the tourists feel more adventurous driving these foolish things.

Liquid metal glistening in the late day sun. We have no schedule and no other places to visit; we will meander for the rest of the afternoon and see what we find. Oh, is that the call of Poseidon, or is it the voice of shave ice I hear beckoning us? Sure enough, the universe was transmitting signals to Caroline and me that we should revisit the Old Sugar Mill and order a lilikoi shave ice sitting on a scoop of vanilla ice cream with a splash of coconut milk on top. While I’ve never been harpooned by an angry sea god, I can state with some certainty that gluttony accentuated with Hawaiian shave ice is likely preferable.

At a beach, a small crowd had formed, looking like the Hawaiian version of the animal spotting groups in Yellowstone. Sure enough, they were watching a few sea turtles in the surf next to shore delivering a message from Poseidon, who told those present that disrespecting the all-powerful sea god would result in a heavy price to pay. The turtles whispered to us they could intercede on our behalf if we were to throw them some sugary yummies, and so instead of facing the wrath of His Holy Water Monster, we gave up the rest of our shave ice to the turtles. By now, I’m starting to wonder if those Heliconia berries we ate earlier were some kind of psychedelic. Okay, full stop. Do you really think we fed those turtles our shave ice? Hell no, we didn’t care how dire those turtles made it sound.

The sky started turning overcast around the time that daylight was about to give way to sunset, so we headed back to the hotel in a light rain and were offered a rainbow in place of a glorious sunset; it would have to do. Remember my dissing of people who do the tourist gig and lay on the beach in the sun, go to the pool, and hang out at the bar? Well, we went back to our room, changed clothes, and hit the hot tub before heading out for dinner again at the Kahuku Grill for some more Fire in Paradise burgers. A fulfilling John-and-Caroline kind of touristy day was had.

The day ends with me writing the notes that would become this blog entry while Caroline sits on the balcony in a light breeze, reading about Hawaiian history and knitting.

Hawaii – Day 2

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Somewhere on the north shore of Oahu, Hawaii

One cannot know the big picture if that is all they see. One has merely seen the surface of things. For a large swath of our population, this is adequate and satisfies their need to have seen something. Here I am in Hawaii, and indeed, the view is beautiful, but so too is the Oregon coast I was on last month. There is so much more to this place than warm breezes, tepid waters, and waving palm fronds. Even in strong, cold winds, dark, icy waters, and howling evergreens, there is immense beauty in the minutiae of details aside from a bit of discomfort. While in the luxury of Hawaii, it would be easy to only see perfection, but in the tiniest of details, there is something waiting to be found.

An abandoned crab shell found on the shore on Oahu, Hawaii

And there it is a tiny abandoned crab shell perched perfectly on the rocks as though the crab stepped away from it just a minute ago. That’s right, not only will this trip be about palms and beaches, though they certainly play a central role, it will also be about finding the unseen. Here in the open and in some respects obviously apparent is the work of the internal engine that helps power our Earth, and then again, it’s hidden behind the luxury of a tropical paradise. These islands are relatively new land areas where there is no ancient fossil record. Back when our continents were being torn apart and scattered around the globe, Hawaii was yet to rise out of the sea. The oldest landmasses in the area are said to be about 65 million years old, while Oahu, where we are today, is a mere 2.95 million years old.

Mukuleia Beach State Park on Oahu, Hawaii

Back then, early humans were just diverging from our non-human ancestors, and it would take 99.5% of the time from then till now before people crossing through Siberia passed into North America. That was approximately 12,000 years ago, or about 10,000 years before Polynesians would set sail into the middle of the Pacific Ocean and start to populate the Hawaiian Islands. For millions of years, these islands had never seen humans, and now, less than 2000 years later, we are responsible for incalculable damage to the environment and the life that took up residence prior to our arrival. I don’t mean to suggest the Polynesians played a heavy role in that disruption, nor the Hawaiians that were their descendants; it was modern man that brought invasive plants and animals.

Random beach on the north shore of Oahu, Hawaii

Maybe this is another beach, or maybe it’s the same one in the photo above. No matter what, we were here and deemed the view to be of such extraordinary beauty that we needed a photo to capture the moment in order to remind us of just what the ocean looked like during the moments we walked its shore. A shore that offers hints of a perfection nature is able to muster. But just into the sea, we can find a dearth of whales and an abundance of plastic, which is evidence just out of our view that cannot be immediately seen, but it is known. For centuries, we explored our world we traveled with the purpose of better understanding the planet. Now, we passively observe our environment with little to no thought about our origins, direction, or impact. The Polynesians who arrived on these waves struck out on a vast ocean with hopes of finding somewhere to land before being taken by the ocean; they traveled with dreams and purpose. Today, we travel for laziness and call it a vacation.

Caroline Wise on the north shore of Oahu, Hawaii

Notice how the blue in her eyes and shirt complements the color of the ocean? Would you be freaked out if I told you her blood was the same color? Well, I’d be more than a little alarmed because that would mean I married a horseshoe crab, and while Caroline has been known to be crabby, she’s certainly far from being a crustacean, not to say she hasn’t been crusty from time to time. I better quit.

Banana's in the wild on Oahu, Hawaii

Hmmm, I can’t remember if we saw bananas growing in the wild on our previous visit to Hawaii, so I’ll just go ahead and exclaim my wonder at seeing bananas on the tree growing right there in front of us like one might imagine bananas would do. We did see pineapples on our previous visit and mangoes too, but hey, these are bananas! And bananas remind me of breakfast this morning, where we sat on our balcony on the fourth floor (room #402 as a note for our memories) and ate local oranges and our favorite apple bananas. Okay, now I’m hungry

We headed east looking for lunch but were snagged by indulgence and instead opted to drop in on Haleiwa Bowls, which was serving up Acai that, up until this point, neither Caroline nor I had tried. It was a perfect introduction to Acai, and we will certainly return should they still be there during a future visit. The only problem with splitting this “Mana” bowl of dessert was that we were still hungry for a proper meal, but that wasn’t too big a problem because not far away was the Beet Box Cafe.

This vegetarian cafe is actually in the back of the Celestial Grocery, so when we were done with our Big Healthy Plate and Three Little Birds, we were able to pick up more bananas.

More romantic beach but this one is enhanced with rainbow on Oaha, Hawaii

A beach enhanced with a rainbow makes for even more romantic experiences. The only thing missing is breaching whales. Please don’t read into my musings that we need rainbows for greater romantic effect or breaching whales, for that matter. Just last month, we were in Oregon, and with occasional gray skies and intermittent rain, we still had a wondrously terrific vacation full of all the romance and love anyone could ever hope for. Heck, on day one of that adventure, we were even graced with a double rainbow; click here to see how beautiful it was.

The rest of our day was spent shopping and basking in the beauty of the world around us. Our first stop after lunch and rainbows was at the Waialua Sugar Mill, where we enhanced our ability to stay awake with some coffee. Next up was a sampling of their Waialua Estate semisweet cocoa nib bar, which put us in the mood to go deeper into the tastes of Hawaii. And what is more Hawaiian than lilikoi also known as passion fruit? Ooh, that passion fruit honey is great; let’s get some, and what about that passion fruit curd?

God rays over Oahu, Hawaii

If rainbows weren’t enough, we were offered God Rays to extend the romance of our first full day here in Oahu, Hawaii. Here I am going on about that thing related to love again; you couldn’t be blamed for being under the impression that Caroline and I revel under the umbrella of things that inspire astonishment and awe. But then you might ask, “Well, just what are those things?” It is everything that comes remotely close to putting smiles on our faces.

Sunset at Turtle Bay on Oahu, Hawaii

Dinner was courtesy of Kahuku Superette and their famous Shoyu Poke, accompanied by the sounds of helicopters and airplanes as the arrival of President Obama was being prepared for just 30 miles south of us. Maybe we’ll run into him and his family while we’re up here, and we can buy them shave ice?

From great to amazing to spectacular, the smiles on our faces grew larger and larger with every passing moment of our wintry visit to Hawaii. As the sun began to set, we took an oceanside walk, marveled at the clouds racing by, and after it was dark, we were afforded the opportunity to catch a few shooting stars from the Geminids meteor shower that happens to be going on right now. Just another ordinary day in an extraordinary life. If you can find a better day, live it.