Hapuna Bay Beach, Hawai'i -- December 27, 2008

Hapuna Bay Beach, Hawai'i -- Making our way an hour-and-a-half from Pahala to Hapuna Bay, we encountered the interesting and endangered Hawaiian Goose, the state bird, also known as the "Ne ne" (pronounced as "nay nay"). These geese have adapted to the harsh lava terrain by growing claws instead of foot webbing and their wings are adapted more for short flights. Spitting little lava pebbles as we slowed down to get some pictures, several cars behind us were surprised by our change in speed; we learned a new meaning for the word "aloha."

After getting a few snaps of these very docile birds, we continued on our way higher and higher up to the crest of more than 4000 feet by the Volcanoes National Park; a sniff of a strong odor meant that we were having a strong vog* day. We rolled up the windows and recirculated the air inside the car until the outside air cleared. We drove north towards Hilo and then west around the top curve of the island to make our way to the Kohala Coast. We drove through gulch and waterfall country, through plains and ranchlands, and finally saw the coast and made our way to one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen.

Silky soft sand, a gentle breeze, warm water, gentle waves perfect for bodyboarding, a great bay in a very protected setting. Even though the day was warm (in the 80s--at the moment--here, you can blink and the weather changes), the sand was perfectly cool to walk upon.

Elliott ran to the water and swam and romped and bodysurfed for hours. Our friends were leaving today, but they wanted a last bit of time at this beach, which an online friend had suggested to me (thanks, Oona!).

As I got settled on the beach, I overheard a woman behind me telling her companion about the whales following other whales, and so on. I had to ask her whether there had been any whale sightings; she said yes, and pointed to the sea as one of the behemoths jumped out of the water in a wonderful display of black and white.

The only other time I had seen whales was in Sayulita, Mexico from a huge distance and I could barely make out their water spouts; these were much closer and the water spouts looked huge. Another woman told me that the water spouts have been measured at 300 miles per hour! After a few small leaps, the action died down and I figured the show was over for the day, so we ate lunch, chatted, took photos, swam, and sunned.

After Gary left to take our friends to the airport, the pod of whales came through again! This time, they were coming way up out of the water, turning in the air, and falling back in. It was so magnificent that I almost forgot to take photos. The one in my photo album that shows the whale is grainy and not very good, but it is a good reminder for my memory.

This beautiful vacation is almost over, just a few more days to go. Each day has brought a new discovery or experience that makes me more and more in awe of this majestic island. When I return to the mainland, I will write more in-depth stories of my days here; I've kept notes in my journal to keep things fresh.

Coming here has opened my eyes to just how varied a place our earth is and I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to exploring more and more of it with each new step on this blessed soil.



* vog is a volcano term for high levels of gas emitted from the volcano that mixes with water vapor and sulfur dioxide--smells yucky and can be dangerous to your health

Monsoon . . . .

. . . well, that's what it feels like today. Twelve straight hours of heavy rain; flash-flood warnings, and no sign of the downpour letting up. After a very exciting day yesterday four-wheeling through miles of wild and wacky dirt and boulder trails, finding the Green Sand Beach, realizing we had to climb down a cliff to get there (!!!), enjoying a gorgeous afternoon sunning and bodysurfing, we started our trek home and the rains start.

Lightning in the distance over the far mountains got closer and closer and louder and louder. The rain came in spurts, building as we drove up the coast from the Southernmost point in the United States to our little village of Pahala.

During a lull in the weather, Gary started a fire in the outdoor lava rock grill at the house while Morgan and I concocted a very special marinade for the chicken--soy sauce, island honey, pineapple, and garlic. Try it, it's amazingly good!

Gary slapped the chicken onto the grill and down came the rain; he stalwartly stayed out there, umbrella covering the grill, until all the grilling was done: twelve pieces of chicken, romaine lettuce, and fresh pineapple rings. The rain did not let up. He came in soaked but successful and the dinner, which also included garlicky green beans, was super delicious.

A plus with the rain is that the Jeep is a lot cleaner than when we arrived last night after our cross-country trek. We had so much fun, yet there were quite a few stressful moments when we considered walking--sraight up runs where only sky was visible as we climbed a very steep incline or red dirt where all we saw were boulders and mud. Inside the jeep, we were rolled around like dice in a gambler's hand. Yeehaw!

I was never so happy to arrive at a destination, but THEN, much to my chagrin, the Green Sand Beach was as the bottom of a very long drop in the bowl of Mahala Bay. Very picturesque and very green, but we had to climb down--yikes! Strapping our bags onto our backs, we made our way downn the "steps" into the bowl--ended up not being as harrowing as it looked from above, but STILL.

After a great lunch of tomato, cucumber, cheese, and avocado sandwiches on the amazing sweet bread they have here, the frolicking began. Much bodysurfing was done by the group while I totally enjoyed protecting the shoreline from pirate marauders and sharks. A few green turtles poked their heads up out of the water to see what was going on.

It was a terrific day by anybody's standards. We cursed the guidebook that called this area a "mild natural curiosity." Phooey on them! Just wait until I write my retaliatory notes. En garde!