As the coronavirus swept across the world, I spent the first two weeks of March in paradise. It was certainly a unique time to travel, as the impending crisis provided a window to a fragile balance that exists in Hawaii. Unfortunately, virus-related closures prevented me from visiting a few sites (including the Iolani Palace) near the end of my trip, but I am relieved that I had a safe return to the mainland. In the meantime, those two weeks provided an enduring travel high that helped me through the following months of antisocial lockdown. I spent most of my time on Oahu, getting somewhat of an inside perspective while visiting my cousin Tom. But the cherry on top was our three days in Maui, so be sure to scroll down!
Getting to Know O’ahu
Upon arriving in the open-air terminal at Daniel K. Inouye airport, I immediately felt the tropical evening breeze, fresh and damp with rain. Tom picked me up and brought me to his place in Waikiki, a modern one-bedroom condo overlooking the Ala Wai golf course, rowing canal, and cloud-capped Ko’olau mountains. While he worked the morning shift at the TV station, I would set my code on autopilot and then set out to explore the neighborhood. Just a short walk from the tourist center of Waikiki Beach, I strolled by the statue of surfing legend Duke Kahanamoku and the large banyan trees almost daily, whether on my way to the beach or just out for a quick musubi (spam and rice wrapped in a single strip of seaweed) or plate lunch. I spent several mornings doing light reading and making phone calls in the verdant Kapi’olani Park. A couple of times, I ventured beyond the bustle of Waikiki, past the aquarium and the canoe club, jogging through a magnificently wealthy neighborhood to the secluded beach beneath the Diamond Head Lighthouse – easily my favorite spot near Waikiki!
After Tom finished at the station around midday, we spent the afternoons out in Oahu’s many recreation and relaxation sites. My first day was a rite of initiation, a hike straight up Koko Head on a steep patchy railway. The view at the top was incredible, with a craggy caldera overlooking the ocean to the east and a sunset shrouded by curtains of rain to the west. Sore but eager for more, I was excited to climb Diamond Head the next day. A much easier paved trail took us up the inside of the sheltered crater to the popular summit, a ‘pillbox’ bunker built in the early 1900s as a key lookout over the Honolulu harbor. Naturally, the view was spectacular in all directions: a shimmering skyline of high rises stretching from Waikiki to downtown, a row of wrinkled green mountains along the spine of the island, shadowy reefs extending to distant wavebreaks populated with little surfer dots, blue sea and sky off into eternity. Below, a bird’s eye view of megamansions to one side and the deep green caldera to the other. And the bunker was pretty cool, a 3-story maze of concrete nooks and passageways. I think the hundreds of people on the trail would agree, it’s a must-see!
Venturing farther afield, we spent an afternoon on the North Shore, which was very enjoyable despite the rain. Known as one of the premier surfing destinations of the entire world, I watched surfers take on comparatively calm 5-foot waves near the world-famous Pipeline while feasting on some delectable garlic shrimp. We snorkeled at Turtle Bay – ironically, this was the only place we didn’t see turtles, but the fish were pretty nice. Not really needing to cool down, we stopped at Matsumoto’s for Hawaiian shaved ice – boy was that a good decision, I loved the vibrant flavors of lilikoi (passion fruit), mango, and guava in that tie-dye snowball. We visited an organic coffee farm, wandering the orchard to see raw coffee beans on shrubs and trying all of the samples. We resisted the tourist trap of the Dole Plantation, though I would have liked to see pineapples growing if it was the right season. On another afternoon, we toured the Kualoa Ranch – overpriced tickets aside, it was cool to see the movie props and filming locations for many iconic scenes, including parts of Jurassic Park and Jumanji.
Over on the east side of the island, arguably the best snorkeling I’ve experienced was at the Hanauma Bay marine sanctuary. Swimming carefully within the conservation rules, I was able to watch and film sea turtles and a large variety of colorful fish within the canyons of coral. At nearby Halona Blowhole, we observed the sea spray from the rocky coast as well as an extra blowhole from a whale swimming not far offshore. One day, we relaxed in the white sand and powder blue surf at Kailua Beach. As the sunlight began to wane, we hiked up a steep grassy ridge to the Lanakai pillbox, another concrete battlement with spectacular views of the deep blue coast and lush green mountains.
It became my goal to climb a ridge on the central spine of Oahu, a difficult choice considering the multitude of hiking trails to panoramic viewpoints. The haiku stairs and Pali cliffs are closed indefinitely, and I wasn’t about to try a high-risk, illegal hike solo no matter how extraordinary the view. I settled on the Ka’au Crater trail, which was about as much adventure as I could handle on my own. Seizing on a gap in the rainclouds, I drove up to the trailhead and set off into the dense jungle. I muddied my shoes almost immediately, a fact of life hiking in Hawaii. Two miles of crashing through foliage and tiptoeing along a water pipeline, and I arrived at the first waterfall. This is where the trail became really fun: I climbed up a series of 4 waterfalls using rocks, roots, and anchored ropes. The trail opened up into a wide, marshy volcanic crater, and I continued up the right rim. The trail became narrow and steep, tracing the ridge between two 45 degree slopes. I failed to make it to the top, impeded by a 6-foot mud wall that I didn’t trust myself to descend safely, even with the supplied rope. But the view was incredible, a wide green crater shrouded in fog above the sunlit city and coastline below. Crazy, amazing hike just minutes from the crowds of Honolulu.
Honestly, some of our best times were spent just hanging around Waikiki. I visited the station for a morning show, always fun when you know the anchor. I tagged along to a few group functions (back when that was still a thing people did), meeting new acquaintances over Korean BBQ, drinks, and activities. We frequented the Shirokiya Japan Village, a bustling Tokyo-style food court where I noshed on ramen, udon, teppanyaki, katsu, and gyoza – all very delicious! We also frequented a couple of bars for happy hour, getting to know the bartenders closest to the true pulse of Waikiki. We enjoyed a hula performance from Tom’s friend Kanoe, followed by an impromptu hula lesson (it’s harder than it looks when you’re tall and stiff). I almost felt like a local when we started chatting with the accompanying band, the only two haoles in the room of tourists who truly appreciated their renditions of our favorite Jawaiian lyrical genius, Professor Ka’ikena Scanlan. It was truly special to explore Oahu through the lens of someone who lives there, and I’m grateful to Tom for enabling these unforgettable experiences.
An Excursion around Maui
For the highest highlight of the trip, Tom and I took a semi-spontaneous 3-day trip to Maui. Upon arrival, the car rental agent offered to upgrade our ride to an all-terrain Jeep Wrangler so we could see the whole island – absolutely worth it! We did see the entire island, from the frigid volcanic peak of Haleakala down to the diverse and colorful beaches lining the coast. The magic of this small island starts with its vast diversity of natural wonders, and all the unexpected little things in between cements Maui as one of my all-time favorite places.
We started our tour with a relaxing retreat to the sunny beaches lining Maui’s south and west shores. Bypassing touristy Kihei for more secluded beaches, we set up our towels below the towering lava cliff at Big Beach in Makena. I had a wonderful time riding the powder blue waves with Ryland, an upbeat grain farmer from Manitoba who started chatting with me after we both wiped out on an ill-advised body surfing attempt. Tom and I eventually wandered over the lava rock barrier to Little Beach, which had a less calming, clothing-optional air to it. Not to be deterred, I impulsively stripped down and bolted for the ocean. But the thing about a nude beach, I learned, is that no one cares what you look like when you take your clothes off. Men and women, spanning a wide range of shapes, sizes, and ages, go about their lounging, walking, or swimming without making eye contact, like they just want to enjoy a day at the beach. Once I overcame the fears in my mind, the experience was rejuvenating – there’s nothing so freeing as the feeling of swirling waves in the absence of board shorts, social constructs, and everything else!
On to Lahaina, the views along Maui’s west coast were simply awesome. Pacific humpback whales winter in these protected waters by the thousands, and you can literally whale-watch from the shore. From the driver’s seat of our Jeep, I managed to glimpse a tail fluke and couple of blowhole eruptions, a truly surreal surprise. Lahaina had a quaint, East-Coast-beach-town-meets-Hawaii vibe, with kitschy souvenir stores and crowded seafood restaurants lining the streets beyond the timeworn colonial government square (which is gradually being overtaken by a massive, lush banyan grove). Momentarily toning down the slapping of our flip-flops, we checked out a few of the art galleries: I was particularly enthralled by some vivid paint-on-metal Hawaiian nature scenes, while Tom found a fascinating 18th century map of the Hawaiian islands with rough shapes and awkward Anglicized misspellings of place names. We relaxed for a bit on Kaanapali’s Black Rock Beach, a long strip of white sand lined with golf resorts: while I didn’t jump off the titular lava rock outcropping, I did see two sea turtles and massive schools of fish while snorkeling! An excellent dinner at Down The Hatch, an elevated seafood grill featured on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, and our first day was in the books.
The next day we set off early on the famed Road to Hana, a 40-mile joyride that snakes along the lush windward coast, passing surf beaches, jungles, waterfalls, and native Hawaiian townships. We picked up a quick breakfast in the surf town of Paia to enjoy it on a grassy hillside overlooking Ho’okipa Beach, where dozens of surfers were catching the long wave breaks. With our Jeep’s top open, we cruised through the jungle with our heads on swivels and cameras hanging out of the windows, using every ounce of willpower to resist stopping at every waterfall, fruit stand, and barbecue hut along the way. We made it to Hana around midday, making a stop at Black Sand Beach, which as its name implies is defined by jet-black volcanic sand nestled in a lava-walled cove. It was really cool to see the fine, charcoal-like sand squish between my toes and to see the waves rush inside a nearby lava tube. The contrast between the deep black beach and the bright green tropical vegetation was positively eye-popping, even during a heavy rain. Perhaps more striking was Red Sand Beach, which we trekked across a slippery cliffside path to access. The volcanic sand was a vivid shade of brick red, surrounded by high cliffs of a similar hue. The waves that crashed over the jagged rocks created some wild currents in the protected waters abutting the beach, naturally forming an exhilarating (possibly hazardous) lazy river in its eddies. It’s hard to convey just how unbelievable these beaches are, so I hope the following pictures aid in sharing precisely how blown away I was by these unique spots:
Our adventure intensified on the road past Hana, somehow, making the whole afternoon one of the purest, wildest travel experiences I’ve had to date. After refueling at a delicious Ethiopian food truck, we continued down the road as it turned to gravel and eroded to potholes of increasing depth and muddiness. We passed a few miles of pastoral countryside, making a quick stop at a powerful 80-foot waterfall gushing next to the road, of course; then we arrived at the secluded lower part of Haleakala National Park. The earlier rain had turned the Sacred Pools of O’heo into a roaring brown rapid and the first mile of our hike into a slippery mud hill, but that didn’t deter us from hiking the Pipiwai Trail in its entirety. We were rewarded with a series of massive cascades, culminating in a horseshoe-shaped valley surrounded by 400-foot cliffs and ribbon waterfalls. On the way, we walked under the largest banyan tree of all and through the highly Instagrammable bamboo forest, an impassably dense tangle of thick stalks in which we were shrouded in mist but perfectly top-lit. All in all, it was a fantastic hike with quite the variety of Maui vistas.
As the sun began to set, we left the remaining tourists at the national park for our return drive through the remote backcountry of southeastern Maui. The road became a two-tire-track adventure that traced the rugged contours of the coast, at times winding along a sheer cliff face directly above the ocean. Being so far from cell reception we unfortunately missed Charles Lindbergh’s seaside gravesite in the village of Kipahilu; in a way, we made up for it by stopping at a picturesque church in the middle of nowhere, strolling around its beautifully landscaped but eerily silent grounds. The hollow stone buildings and creaking metal turnstile were the first hint, but the whole area evoked the imagination of a world without people, far removed from the crowded tourist developments across the island and the loud bustle of civilization in general. Alone on the road, we made frequent stops to experience various angles of the countryside: a windswept grassy knoll with a view up the moorland slopes of Haleakala and down to the post-sunset sea, a panoramic point overlooking the rocky coastline and a natural arch faintly illuminated by gold afterglow. As our last moments of daylight faded away, we found ourselves stopped in the middle of a herd of free-range cattle, waiting about 15 minutes for all 20 or so cows and calves to nonchalantly amble across. I can imagine the road continued to offer astounding views as it wound upward from the coast and into the night, but what we saw beyond Hana was more than enough to justify the Jeep rental…the sights were unforgettable!
On our last day, we woke up even earlier in the hope of seeing the storied Haleakala sunrise, an ordeal that required reserving a ticket two days in advance to drive up the 10,000 foot summit two-plus hours before sunrise. It became even more of an ordeal when we were turned away at the national park gate: yesterday’s mud splatters, which coated every door and wheel well of our vehicle, posed a hazard to the delicate fungal microbiome at high altitude, we were told. Pulling over just out of view of the gate (hey, we weren’t going to miss the best sunrise in the world for that), we used Tom’s oldest beach towel to scrub every little spot of mud from that Jeep as drizzle turned to downpour. We switched drivers, cleared the gate, and raced up the mountain. Unfortunately, we arrived to a summit draped in a blowing cloud, dismal and damp at a chilly 40 oF. With no sun, there was no sunrise, and we couldn’t even see any of the multicolored volcanic crater that makes Haleakala’s panoramas so legendary. After huddling in the Visitor Center for a little while, we drove back down feeling cold, wet, and dejected. Those feelings wouldn’t last, however – after all, this is the land of Aloha – as we descended below the cloud line, the sky opened up into a beautiful, full-arc, double rainbow. Whether it was a consolation prize or a parting gift, I left Maui feeling lucky to have experienced such an abundance of the island’s natural beauty in such a short visit.
Some societal quirks aside, I loved Hawaii and yearn to return. I would love to visit the Big Island to see the active lava flows: after oozing semi-continuously from 1983 to 2018, the activity at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park is bound to pick back up in the future. The epic hike along the Na Pali coast in Kauai is high up on my bucket list, as is catching a true Haleakala sunrise. The Molokini Crater off the coast of Maui also beckons, as a one-of-a-kind volcanic haven for underwater life. Then there are a few places that I’ll likely never experience, that seem like they can’t exist in today’s world, like the leper colony on Molokai or the exclusive invite-only tribal settlement on Niihau. Hawaii is truly a unique destination, isolated from the world but also a vibrant world of its own, and I hope to make it back someday.
Worldly Observations 