The End

Steve and I went to Waipio Valley overlook on Saturday, but didn't have time to walk down the road. Well, we had time, but the thought of walking back up, a 900 foot elevation change in one mile, seemed daunting, and there wouldn't have been much time for exploring the ocean and the water falls. Next time.

We blew the rest of our money in the adorable tourist traps in Honoka'a, another sweet little hippie town like Pahoa.
Sunday, on the way back to Hilo, we stopped at Laupahoehoe Beach, where Steve and Lee camped for $1 per night about 13 years ago. I don't know what the cost is these days. We seemed to be the only touristas around. There were lots of local families enjoying picnics and fishing. I continue to be amazed by the turquoise surf and the striking contrast against the black lava.

We also stopped at Hawai'i Tropical Botanical Gardens, which is on the ocean north of Hilo. A lovely place, with labeled trees. All the labels indicate the trees were from Asia or Latin America. I'm still not sure what a Hawai'ian tree looks like.

We ate our last Hawai'ian dinner at Royal Siam in Hilo, the third time we had Thai food on this trip, and the best, although the Thai restaurants in Waimea and Pahoa are by no means shabby. Way better than Tucson's offerings, but that's no surprise.

I didn't get to swim with sea turtles or dolphins, and we never got a chance to recover from our unfortunate first and only kayaking attempt in Belize two years ago, and the volcanoes and earthquakes didn't cooperate, but that just means we will have to get back to The Big Island soon. I will see whether I can get on some kind of e-mail volcano alert so we can rush back over the next time the mighty volcano goddess Pele decides to stir.

Northern Big Island

Waimea, Saturday, January 19, 2008

The first photo is of Ali'i Drive by the seawall in Kona, another cute little town, and a little more upscale than funky old Hilo. Not that there's anything wrong with funky old towns. After all, I'm madly in love with Tucson, so funky towns speak to me.

Yesterday was spent on logistics, and then we tried to get to a beautiful beach that is in some of Bruce Ho's photos. He said it was the most beautiful beach on The Big Island. Unfortunately, we ended up at the beach to the south of the one we were aiming for, and the shore was too rocky for swimming. But I did get a pretty good shot of the sunset over the lava field.

Lee and Tracy left for Hawai'ian Acres as Tracy has to leave today. Now Steve and I are spending a couple days at the Kamuela Inn in Waimea while we check out the northern part of the island. Room 20 isn't bad for $109 including tax. A two room suite with a queen bed, twin bed, dining area and kitchen on the second floor. It would cost a lot more 10 miles down the road at Honoka'a, which is on the ocean.

Waimea is a surprisingly pretty town. Because it's surrounded by cattle ranches, Steve told me to expect it to be ugly, but it's actually like a quaint California town. At 2,400 feet amls, it has brisk air and a stunning view of the snow-topped Mauna Kea. A health food store, Korean and Thai restaurants and fancy clothing and jewelry stores indicate this is no cow town.

Two Step at Honaunau Bay

We saw a yellow-billed cardinal this morning. He doesn't look much like the northern cardinal, but boy is he smart. This South American native was first noticed here in 1973, and while he is common on the west side of The Big Island, he is found nowhere else in Hawai'i. He is styling in his tuxedo, white collar, black bib and brilliant red head sans crest.

Today we went to Bruce's Ho's Photography shop. Bruce and Sally Ho have been good friends of Lee and Tracy since Tracy was in kindergarten and the Ho's son became Tracy's best friend. Bruce has been working on his photography full time for eight years. I bought a cool photograph for Desert's Edge.

Tracy, Steve and I then went to Honaunau Bay to snorkel. It's called Two Step because the safest way to get into the ocean is on two natural lava benches where you can gear up and then drop into the ocean. It was the best snorkeling I have ever experienced. The water was clear and still, the green coral was alive, and the number and variety of the exotic fish was astounding. I have always said that no one could make up a fish that's weirder than the ones that already exist in the sea.

I like Dave Barry's thoughts on the matter: "When you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you've been missing the whole point of the ocean -- it's like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent."

The water was pretty cold, and I was shivering, but I couldn't drag myself back to shore. I kept taking "just one more look" for about two hours.

Then we walked around the Pu'uhonua O Honaunau, which is right next door to the snorkeling area. Better known as the Place of Refuge, this enchanting place was built in the sixteenth century. Citizens were subjected to endless rules and taboos. It was against the law for members of the lower classes to look at or walk on the same trails with members of the upper classes. No one was allowed to get close to the chief or even to allow his shadow to fall on him. Violations of the rules was believed to anger the gods, who would send lava flows, earthquakes, tidal waves or droughts to even the score. This was serious business, so only one punishment was suitable for law breakers: death.

If a criminal could reach his area's place of refuge, and he performed the rituals prescribed by the priest, he could be released after a few days imprisonment, and his debt to society as well as to the gods would be forgiven.

We got within five feet of a green sea turtle, about three feet long, which was resting in the cove at Place of Refuge. We learned after leaving that we can enter the water from Place of Refuge along the channel the turtles take to get to their resting place, which would have increased our chances of swimming with them. Next time.

Waltzin' Matilda

Waltzin' Matilda isn't the national anthem of Australia, but it should be. It's a charming folk tune about a vagabond who gets into trouble for stealing a jumbuck (sheep) while waltzing matilda, which means traveling around with all his belongings in a swag (blanket).

For me to call my blog Waltzin' Matilda is a joke, because when I travel, I do not travel light as the swagman does in the song. All my traveling companions but Steve (who also schleps way too much stuff around with him) find it necessary to question the excessive size of my luggage.

What's great about the song Waltzin' Matilda is it has an underdog, some fun Aussie slang, class warfare, some civil disobedience and a ghost all wrapped up in a catchy ditty.

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong
Under the shade of a coolibah tree
And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his billy boiled
Who'll come a-waltzing matilda with me

Chorus:
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda
Who'll come a waltzing matilda with me
And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his billy boiled
Who'll come a-waltzing matilda with me

Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tuckerbag
Who'll come a-waltzing matilda with me

Chorus

Up came the squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred
Down came the troopers, one, two, three,
"Where's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-waltzing matilda with me."

Chorus

Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong
"You'll never catch me alive!", said he
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong
You'll come a-waltzing matilda with me

Chorus

To learn more about the slang and the story behind the song, go here.

And for one of the best war protest songs of all time, listen to "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda".

Green Sand Beach

Kona, Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Today we drove from Lee's house to the green sand beach near South Point, the southernmost point in the United States. It's a 45 minute hike from the parking lot to the beach along a four- wheel-drive road. Along the road we saw beautiful orange sand with black basalt boulders next to the turquoise ocean.

The beach is in a cove surrounded by high cliffs. The sand is wonderful. Very soft, olive green from the olivene crystals that weathered out of the basalt. Some black pyroxene crystals are mixed with it, giving the color a nice texture.

The water is really clear, and the ocean floor is as sandy soft as the beach. I tried body surfing, but Steve urged me to stop because the waves were breaking so close to shore, he thought I'd get hurt. We all enjoyed bobbing up and down in the surf.

A local who looks like Santa Claus passed us on his dirt bike when we were hiking to the beach. He sat down by our stuff and offered us some water. He said he really wasn't interested in going to heaven, because he didn't think it could be any better than this, and there was the risk that there would be no beer in heaven.

We drove on to Kona, listening to some CDs that neighbor Lori lent to us. Some blues and Hawai'ian reggae made the night drive along the winding coastal road special. We felt grateful to be living this grand life on this astonishing planet.

Lori said there was an earthquake near our houses last night, but unfortunately, we didn't notice. I want to experience a noticeable but not destructive earthquake. I guess it rained pretty hard last night, but I am sleeping so well in the tent, I didn't notice. What little rain we've seen has not slowed us down a bit.

Now we're staying at King Kamehameha in Kona, a six story hotel that has seen better days, maybe in the 1960s. But we didn't come here to sleep, right?

The World's Longest Lava Tube

Hawai'ian Acres, Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Neighbor Scott showed us the lava tube under Hawai’ian Acres. Said to be 40 miles long, it’s the longest lava tube in the world. Lava tubes are formed when lava that was moving below the ground drains out of its passageway, leaving a long tunnel.

We entered the lava tube through an inconspicuous hole in the rain forest floor. In places, the ceiling had collapsed and left smooth slabs like glass pottery on the floor. Most places it was easy to walk. The ceiling ranged from 10 to 50 feet high and the tube was 15 feet wide. I was surprised to find stalagmites and stalactites in a lava tube, because I thought limestone was an essential ingredient, but Steve says it could be some other kind of minerals precipitating.

Scott said a family weathered a hurricane in this tube in the 1990s. We saw the plastic sheets they erected over some posts. I was thinking about earthquakes.

In more recent local news, the coqui might have decided to be quiet when he heard Lee planning his demise by putting citric acid on him. Or perhaps he has found his true love and has relocated out of earshot of Lee's cabin.

We also got the water pump fixed, with the help of "Little Lee" in California, who read the pump owner's manual by cell phone to Lee here in the cabin. We all took turns pressurizing the tank using a wimpy bicycle pump. Of course, one might wonder why the owner's manual for the pump was in California, but it seems it is pointless to leave anything important here, because appliances turn to rust and books turn to mildew.

Scott says the sulphur fumes from the volcano create acid rain. There is also the matter of VOG, volcanic fog. You can see what it has done to this storage container. Looks like something our good bud John Villinski would like.

Hawai'i Volcano National Park

Monday, January 14, 2008

Today Steve and I went to Hawai'i Volcano National Park. We warmed ourselves at steam vents where rainwater heated by magma hundreds of feet below the ground spewed out of bath-tub-sized holes in the ground. At Kilauea Crater we saw steaming fumaroles and coughed on the sulfurous fumes. Tern-like white-tailed tropic birds (koa’e kea), two feet long, half of which is a streaming tail, soared over the crater.



At Thurston Lava Tube, I saw an apapane, a small red honey creeper who likes the native ‘ohi’a trees and gets nectar from their red bottle-brush-like flowers. I loved listening to his beautiful, whimsical whistles, buzzes and trills.

Lava Trees and Lava Coast

Hawai'ian Acres, Sunday, January 13, 2008

Lee was dismayed to hear the first coqui frog ever at Lee’s little cabin. An invader from Puerto Rico, the coqui is a problem for those who are fed up with hearing him tirelessly whistle his mating question “co-KEE?” all night. She is hoping he doesn’t attract any of his colleagues to our bit of paradise.

Yesterday we swam in the ocean. We went out 200 feet from shore in a small cove created by man-made surf break. The ocean bottom was covered with rounded boulders and sand, and even in the cove, we could feel a bit of undertow. Beyond the cove, surfers were riding waves about six feet tall. The ocean temperature is about the same as the air, 70 degrees. This beach is intriguing because hot and cold springs surface under the ocean bottom. While one hand might be in water that’s 100 degrees, the other can be at 60 degrees.

We stopped at a market by highway 130 outside Pahoa. Lots of Hawai’ian clothing for sale. A banner over one table announced “The Lawyer is In. 20 minutes for $20”. However, the lawyer was out. We could also have tarot cards or palms read for a dollar or less. We ate scrumptious salmon and artichoke crepes at a picnic table under a tarp while listening to Hawai’ian music very capably played by a native guitarist and a haole flutist. Haole (howlie) is a derogatory term for white folks, one of over 1,000 invasive species that have changed the character of these islands. A large and lovely smiling Hawai'ian woman in a straw hat and shell necklace danced a graceful hula dance.

At MacKenzie Park, we saw turquoise surf crashing against the black cliffs.

On to Lava Tree State Monument. This magical rainforest draws the eyes up and the mouth open. 'Ohi'a lehua trees and ferns towered above us, but plenty of sunlight was able to filter through the leaves and cast a glow on the forest floor. In 1790, lava flowed through the forest, covering the tree trunks to 12 feet deep. Moisture in the trees cooled the lava, creating hardened shells. Fissures opened in the ground and the lava drained into the fissures. The lava-covered tree trunks remain, creating spooky tree ghosts. The fissures are still there, too, extended far into the earth toward Pele’s home. Tame red jungle fowl (moa) strut around, as they apparently own the place. They were brought to Hawai'i by Polynesians for food, and now many have gone feral.


I have never seen photos of Hawai’i that made me want to visit. The problem turns out to be as I expected. Photos can’t capture the scale of the trees, the color of the light, the smells and sounds that are so much a part of the experience. But now I have seen some sights that live up to Hawai’i’s well-deserved reputation. One of the first big “wow” moments came as we drove through a tunnel made by trees arching over the road, with the ocean less than 50 feet away.

We drove several miles past “Road Closed, Do Not Enter” signs across a black lava field created by eruptions in the 1980s. Several towns were destroyed and the road was covered by the flows that stretched from the hill top miles away into the ocean near us. Tough little ferns are beginning to sprout from the cracks in the lava, and they are the only vegetation for miles. Like the ferns, some intrepid humans have rebuilt their homes on top of lava. A pretty bleak and ultimately temporary environment for a home.

Some of the ropey pahoehoe lava has weathered with a beautiful gold iridescent finish. We got as close as we could to the eruption that’s been threatening Royal Gardens subdivision since last week. A tourist got out of her car holding a camera and told us that someone at “The Center” said she could get pictures at sunset of the lava glow reflected in the clouds. Although it was almost dark when we left, we didn’t see any glow.

We Arrive on The Big Island

Hawai’ian Acres, Saturday, January 12, 2008

I look like Albert Einstein. Fluffy grey wiry hair stands out in waves around my head. My 'do becomes more horizontally-oriented every day. It’s quite a change from the usual progression toward limp verticality. The humidity here doesn’t seem extreme. The weather is actually pretty close to perfect. But my hair is doing something I’ve never seen it do before. I’m traveling in disguise, and I hope my resemblance to the good doctor makes me look smarter, but to the casual observer, I probably just look deranged.

Steve and I arrived in Hilo Friday night accompanied by his sister Lee and her 31 year old son Tracy. We are staying at a cabin built by Lee’s boyfriend, also named Lee. Sadly for his many friends in Hawai'ian Acres and Santa Cruz, California, Lee’s home towns, he died suddenly in 2006. We are privileged to enjoy the presence of his spirit and the fruits of his labor of love here on the Big Island of Hawai’i.


Lee’s idea was to have a minimal impact on his three acres of rainforest on the lava field. The cistern collects rain water from the corrugated roof. The house is built with 12 inch wide redwood boards that were milled for Lee on the main land and sent here in a cargo container. Most everything else was salvaged. There’s no insulation, drywall or heat, and although it’s a little chilly at night, a heating system would be an unnecessary indulgence. A few bare light bulbs are attached to the ceiling.

The neighbors tell us it rained continuously for weeks prior to our arrival, but so far we have only heard quiet rain on the tin roof at night, with light breezes making music as they brush the palms.

A two burner cook top, apartment size refrigerator and a tiled counter top make the kitchen in one corner of the 20’ x 15’ main room. The kitchen sink is in the carport. The bathroom with its sink and toilet and the hot water shower on porch were proud additions after Lee had visited here for years.

Steve and I set up our tent on the wrap around porch and Lee and Tracy slept inside. Morning revealed the magnificent view across the forest to the ocean, 1,000 feet lower and about ten miles to the northeast. I hadn’t noticed the clerestory windows along the length of the roof ridge the night before, but they really brighten up the room. Lee and Lee have planted many native trees and bushes near the house. Most came from cuttings donated by the neighbors. Pineapple tops and avocado pits also get planted. The red and green ti bushes next to the porch are stunning. We have been enjoying the best oranges I’ve ever eaten from a tree they planted in the yard.

Mosquitoes are a new invader here, but fortunately for Lee and me, Steve and Tracy are mosquito magnets, so the girls haven’t suffered. Bright green chameleons called anoles hide under the towels we hang to dry on the porch, and can launch themselves off the porch or leap a foot or more between trees, sailing with their legs extended to their sides. Tracy said he used to sell these guys in a pet store where he worked.

Lee usually works on the garden or makes home repairs when she’s here, but it’s just a vacation this time, although cistern is leaking and water pump runs too much.

Saturday afternoon, we crowded into the funky little Puka Puka Kitchen in Hilo. This Japanese restaurant inexplicably features falafel as its lone non-fish dish. I had a delicious sautéed ahi ahi. Two-story, nineteenth-century shops are currently in a down cycle of many urban revitalization iterations. Palm trees are in the grassy park across Kamehameha Avenue. Beyond the park, the ocean reaches to the horizon and plus 1,900 miles more.

At the farmer’s market in Hilo I bought appliquéd pillow cases from the Philippines for $20 each and two sarongs for $5 each. Five strawberry papayas were $2.

Birds for my life list are spotted dove (Chinese dove or mountain dove) introduced from Asia in mid-nineteenth century; zebra dove (barred dove) from Asia in 1922, and saffron finch from South America in 1960s. The saffron finch is especially beautiful. Olive green back, yellow chest and orange face. Even with the birds I’ve seen before, I’m interested in knowing each species' genealogy. The common myna came from India in 1865 to control pests, and the house sparrow arrived from New Zealand in 1871. They are ubiquitous.

At Richardson Park, I got my first look at ocean-side lava. The black sand beach is speckled with white coral grains.

Just as in Tucson, black vesicular basalt boulders can be seen in walls all over Hilo. We also see lots of bougainvillea here, but unlike in Tucson, where people seem to be content with monochromatic flowers, Hawai'ians plant salmon, fuscia, purple, fire engine red, orange, rust and dusty rose colored plants all together. They don't exactly look like colors that Ma Nature would put together, but it's certainly festive.