Been here on the Big Island of Hawaii since Christmas Day when Heather & I flew from Philadelphia," got outta' town" only just missing the first Mondo Snow Storm of the season; 30" in a day, which promptly screwed all travel on the East Coast. We were so relieved, relaxed in Phoenix our transfer point to Kona, that our connecting plane took off without us! Bugger !, US Air saved our bacon by immediately putting us on a flight to Honolulu connecting to Kona, so we arrived only 3 hours later than scheduled. A half hour drive from the airport through a desert of lava fields stretching to the far distant volcano hills; signs indicating, "Feral Donkeys in the next 5 miles", and a twisty road rising 800 feet brought us to Wiakoloa Greens Village, an oasis of condo's surrounding a lush golf course and our headquarters until January 18th.
A week earlier, Marla, Hank, Niah had come from Fairbanks, AK. Trudy & Larry, from Phoenix, AZ. Our Christmas tree was a plastic repro of some tropical bush; however, covered with beads, ornaments and ribbon taken from opened presents, it looked perfect. Niah was the center of attention. She's bright-eyed and bushy tailed, curious about every little thing. At 10 months old she complains when her pants are full and her belly is empty. Otherwise, she's a joy. Like the knights who said " NeH", Niah says," Neh". Marla insists she is blowing kisses and saying "Meh" , but I know a Neh from a Meh. She also clucks her tongue and claps her hands and somehow seems much older.
Every day we have visited Kona beaches which are amazingly various and worth exploring; some sandy, most lava enclosed with coral under crystal water, no seaweed or lichen on the black rocks; occasionally, sweeping, mile-long curves, fringed with coconut palms. The more difficult the trail to the beach, the less crowded. We have purposely chosen less crowded and thus have usually hiked 1/2 hour or more across old, open lava fields. Some look like huge cow flops , undulating to the horizon; others are like sharp splintered glass where one touch will rip the skin and blood will flow. I find these to be exciting; the possibility of injury keeps the senses alert while the coarse, gravel-like pathway along the Kings trail, a 175 mile path connecting ancient villages, massages the feet.
A typical day starts about 8 am with a hearty breakfast when we decide what we're going to do that day. Tourist books and brochures are consulted while Heather & Marla begin a production line making sandwiches and snacks for lunch. Let's say " Ke-awa-iki" beach. To get there you have to park on the highway and walk on a 30" wide, crushed, lava trail for 1/2 hour before coming to the "smashing surprise" of ocean waves tumbling down a black sand and gravel beach. Then skirt a stretch of private land on mini pebbles, sloping 45 degrees to the water with irritating, bits catching under sandals every few steps. We watched a pod of whales surfacing and swimming in a large circle. Must have been 20 as spouts originated from different places simultaneously. Hank was carrying Niah in a backpack with a 'Howdah" like canopy and she was checking everything along the trail, occasionally vocalizing in pleasure at what she saw. Steve Sweet, one of Hank's good friends from Fairbanks had joined us. Beach mats and snorkel equipment, water , Niah's accouterments , spare nappies and so on are stuffed into knapsacks and unpacked under a shady tree only yards from a quiet tide pool. There's only one other couple on the beach who tell us the snorkeling is excellent just outside the breakwater, past the dark lava where turtles have pulled out to sunbathe.
I brought my carving knives and bought a pruning saw so, while others are reading/swimming/snoozing, I check out downed trees and driftwood for twisty burls or unusual grain of which the shoreline is amply provided. It's likely poor Heather will return to Philly with almost another suitcase of treasures as I'm going on to New Zealand for a couple of months with only a small suitcase. If I find any more wood we'll be at the Post Office shipping it home. Likely, as Hank gave Heather a goat, ram's skull that he found a few days before Christmas on a jogging trail near our Condominium and she definitely wants to send it home. Today she found another skull, looks like a sea gull, lovely curved beak.
During my exploration for wood at Ke-awa-iki beach, I found a four-wheel drive road across the undulating lava flops ,( there must be a scientific name?), and so the return to the car was not as difficult as going. We carry about 5 liters of water which is usually gone by the time we get back to the car. Temperatures on the ancient lava, especially when there is no breeze, makes one thirsty.
Home by 5:30 tanned, tired and hungry. After a shower, Big Island Micro-brewed beer all around and as we have a gas grill, supper is often steak or local fish combined with a large fresh salad. By 8:30 everyone is heading for bed, ostensibly to read but within a few minutes lights go out and we're asleep until next morning. ( Except Marla & Niah & Hank who wake every few hours to feed.) Hard work living in the Tropics. Love and all best wishes, Nick
P.S. Happy New Year ! If you know any friends or family in New Zealand and wish me to be your ambassador ? please forewarn them and copy me. .... 6 degrees of separation, or so they say.
Marla has set up a photo gallery which can be accessed by clicking on : http://picasaweb.google.com/hank.stats/Hawaii_2010
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