HAWAII, THE MAGNIFICENT BLUR
For the last four days I have had strange dreams and, when awakened, thought I was somewhere else. Then, looking around the room it gradually would sink in that I was back here, in Toronto, and in my bed.
And that among the places I was not were: (1) in an airport (2) on an airplane or (3) on a tropical island.
This probably is not surprising, since in my 57 years I've never gone so far, covering so many time zones and climate changes, in so little time. Naturally as you get older, I realized, you don't adjust to change quite as quickly as you once did.
All in all, the trip to Hawaii for Ben and Emilia's wedding, was, to put it succinctly, a magnificent blur. Yet as I think back there are memories of certain moments that stick with me, some of which I will attempt to share with you now.
THE CITY OF RAIN
First was the city of Hilo itself, on The Big Island, as it is called. They call it The Big Island because its actual name is Hawaii, which naturally gets confused with the state of Hawaii. The island of Hawaii is, by far, the biggest of the Hawaiian islands.
Hilo is on the wet side of the island. I later learned that all the islands have a wet, or windward, side, and a dry, or leeward, side. The contrast between the wetness and dryness happens to be greatest on the Big Island because there everything is bigger, including the two mountains on the island, which rise to nearly 14,000 feet. This means that humid air coming off the Pacific, when it approaches those mountains, dumps, and I mean dumps, onto the Hilo side like it is going out of style. Hilo, in fact, is known as "the rainiest city in America."
How rainy is that? Well, the average rainfall is 128 inches a year. The rainiest months, one of which is March, average 15 inches of rain.
When we arrived in Hilo on February 26, the weather was behaving true to form. Rain, rain, rain. It came and it went. It started and it stopped. It misted and it poured. We drove to a mall in it with Andrzej and Wiera, where we were to meet Ben and Emilia, and seated ourselves in an Arby's.
There, we had an unexpected pleasure. It was the coffee. One of the famous things I didn't know about The Big Island was its Kona coffee--grown and carefully handpicked right there--which, they say, is world renowned. I don't know what percentage of that Arby's coffee actually was Kona, since even on the island itself the beans are expensive, but it sure was good. (Let's put it this way: if, we were to compare fast food outlet coffees, a typical McDonald's would be a two. This would be a ten.)
When we arrived at the rental house (located on Hilo Bay) where we were to stay for the next few days, we discovered it to be next to a strange piece of property. A wall of vegetation, stretching perhaps thirty feet upwards, mostly hid a couple dilapidated structures next door made with a lot of corrugated metal and plastic. While someone evidently lived there, throughout our stay we spotted no homo sapiens amongst the vegetation.
The undergrowth was, however, definitely home to a chorus of...tree frogs. Once the sun went down, the frogs got happy and began whistling and cheeping to beat the band. We, of course, thought this to be charming but later learned that local residents consider the frogs, which are not native to Hawaii, a source of noise pollution.
As we bedded down that evening, the rain became our ally. It drummed and thrummed and finally began rushing down in torrents. Very soothing. In the morning we all reported having slept wonderfully well.
In Hilo, by the way, we basically were living in rainforest conditions. Ten miles to the north is Akaka Falls State Park which is an actual, gorgeous, unspoiled rainforest. Be that as it may, the humidity never became oppressive and air conditioning was not required. If we did feel warm, a ceiling fan did the trick. A nifty side benefit, we found, was that after hanging our suitcase-compacted clothing in the closet for a few hours, the wrinkles disappeared!
THE WEDDING
The big event, of course, was Ben and Emilia's wedding which took place on the morning of Feb. 27. After initially talking about having it on a beach it was decided we'd stick close to the rental house so that if rain intervened it could be held indoors. The backyard, overlooking the bay, is a lovely setting, and though the rain continued right up to and a little past the time for the ceremony, it then, as if on cue, stopped. After some discussion it was decided that the officiating pastor, Butch Hardman (Emilia's fellow staff member at McLean Presbyterian Church in Virginia and the most energetic 72-year-old I've ever met) would serve, as it were, as head umpire. If rain resumed he simply would announce that the remaining portion of the ceremony would be held indoors. Since, including the photographer, there were only nine of us, it wouldn't be a difficult feat to accomplish.
But the rain held off, at least through the ceremony and long enough afterwards for some quickly posed photographs. (To be accurate there was one point when it started again, lightly, but the bride and groom elected to tough it out and after a few minutes it stopped.)
As we stood there, the sun even peeked out for a while. The Hawaiian outdoor wedding was a success!
THE BIG ISLAND--AT LIGHTENING SPEED
Over the next three days, Andrzej and Wiera (Emilia's parents), Charity, and I covered a lot of ground.
Day One we drove out of the rain and into the sunshine, climbing the 26-mile road to Volcanoes National Park--and beyond. Actually we shot right past the park and ended up descending the mountain until stopping for directions at a big sign that said "COFFEE." There, we found tall, blonde-haired Lisa Dacalio, a 60-something retiree behind a table with a silver tea service, giving out cups of Kona coffee for whatever you wanted to donate. She and husband Jimmy grow and sell their own coffee and with free samples try to tempt passers-by to buy some. (I had a cup which, while not up to the Arby's standard, still was good.)
Anyhow, there at the Dacalio's we learned we actually were much closer to another goal we had for the day than we were to the volcanoes: Punalu'u Black Sand Beach. After a short drive we were there. Ah, at last. The Hawaii of the postcards: a tropical paradise. The sun was shining and the temperature was in the upper 70's. We strolled along the beach, sloshed in the water, and found a couple of the famed sea turtles to watch and photograph.
Retracing our steps, we did at last find Volcanoes National Park. After viewing a film at the Visitor Centre, we began driving along the road rimming a huge crater. The overall impression was one of acres and acres of overwhelming destruction. Black volcanic rock was everywhere. When we reached the viewing point for the crater, the greatest single bit of fascination for me was a little vent emitting steam hot enough to burn you (something we learned by experimentation). We also took the Chain of Craters Road down toward the ocean where, if one came prepared (two and a half quarts of water per person) one could actually walk far enough to see lava flowing. Since we hadn't come prepared and the sign at one point said we had to walk an additional two and a half miles each way to see the lava, we meekly returned to our rental car.
Then, with winged wheels, we flew back into the rain again and to Hilo.
Day Two was the day we would truly break the back of the island (or our own backs) by hurtling across famed Saddle Road, the most direct route to the west coast, and back. Saddle Road was built in a hurry by the federal government during World War Two and alternates between undulating and bone-rattling stretches. The U.S. military, which has bases along the way, has turned parts of the road into washboard with truck and tank traffic. Parts of it reminded me of the worst streets in Toronto after a hard winter, except the bad stretches just went on and on and on. However, the scenery was striking and at one point we stopped for photos with the great mountains in the background.
With delight we at last turned off Saddle Road and on to better highways. Soon we were in the vacation condominiumn paradise of Kona-Kohala where the weather nearly always is lovely (sunny, low 80's). The weather during our visit, blessedly, was no exception. It was there that most of us had our first experience snorkelling in a coral reef (albiet at a small public park) and saw all those colorful fishes we'd heard people rave about.
The return drive to Hilo (by way of the the nothern coast of the island) was, believe it or not, through (1) desert ranchland with cacti (2) forest ("looks like the road to the farm [in New York])," Charity said, and finally (3) rainforest. They say that The Big Island is like a complete continent, with 11 of 13 possible ecosystems. You can even get to tundra, and snow (at certain times) on the tall mountains.
As we approached Hilo again, yes, it was raining.
Day Three of our island blitzkreig we decided we'd take it easy and just do a short drive to Akaka Falls and the nearby Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden. As it happened, Divine Providence smiled upon us and as we awoke that morning in Hilo--Hilo I say--it was sunny and nearly cloudless. It was perfect for hiking the rainforest trails (something we all found immensely satisfying and interesting) without the usual squadrons of biting insects we'd been warned about.
As it turned out, Day Three became our most physically demanding one as we decided, in the afternoon, to accompany Ben and Emilia on a final foray. Roaring past the volcanoes and past the Black Sand Beach, we drove on and on, relentlessly, to a point of land on the southernmost tip of the island. It was, in fact, the southernmost point in the United States. It took some doing to get to the final destination, the famed Green Sand Beach. After a 12-mile drive off the main road, we parked our cars in a remote spot and began a trek, through lava fields and along rugged coastline, which took somewhere between 45 minutes and an hour. Up and down, over one crest of hill after another. (I felt, I reflected, a bit like Frodo and companions en route to Mordor...) More crafty citizens were making their way, illicitly, by way of four-wheel-drive vehicles.
Anyhow, at last, and gloriously, we made it. The hidden beach was down, down, down a steep sort of cliff which took some negotiating, and indeed was a pale green. Most of us took the plunge into the Pacific, which had those picture postcard blues and that super saltiness we'd heard about. (While in the waves, however I took some care as I felt the undertow.)
When we at last got back, with effort, to the cars, Andrzej, who sometimes surprised us with the aptness of his limited English expressions, said with a smile, "That's enough now of black sand beaches, green sand beaches, red sand beaches, and other beaches...!"
But of course it was not, by far, the last beach we would be visiting that week...
OAHU AND HOME
The next morning (March 3) Charity and I flew off to spend two days on Oahu, Hawaii's most populous island. That visit, of course, was remarkable in its own right and maybe I'll tell about that in another post.
At 11:30 p.m. March 4 Honolulu time, we took off for home. It was around 70 F (21 C) in Hawaii when we left. We landed in Toronto at 8:15 p.m. EST on March 5 and, on our ten minute walk from the airport shuttle drop-off point to home, the wind chill was -13 F (-25 C) .
Enough said!
For the last four days I have had strange dreams and, when awakened, thought I was somewhere else. Then, looking around the room it gradually would sink in that I was back here, in Toronto, and in my bed.
And that among the places I was not were: (1) in an airport (2) on an airplane or (3) on a tropical island.
This probably is not surprising, since in my 57 years I've never gone so far, covering so many time zones and climate changes, in so little time. Naturally as you get older, I realized, you don't adjust to change quite as quickly as you once did.
All in all, the trip to Hawaii for Ben and Emilia's wedding, was, to put it succinctly, a magnificent blur. Yet as I think back there are memories of certain moments that stick with me, some of which I will attempt to share with you now.
THE CITY OF RAIN
First was the city of Hilo itself, on The Big Island, as it is called. They call it The Big Island because its actual name is Hawaii, which naturally gets confused with the state of Hawaii. The island of Hawaii is, by far, the biggest of the Hawaiian islands.
Hilo is on the wet side of the island. I later learned that all the islands have a wet, or windward, side, and a dry, or leeward, side. The contrast between the wetness and dryness happens to be greatest on the Big Island because there everything is bigger, including the two mountains on the island, which rise to nearly 14,000 feet. This means that humid air coming off the Pacific, when it approaches those mountains, dumps, and I mean dumps, onto the Hilo side like it is going out of style. Hilo, in fact, is known as "the rainiest city in America."
How rainy is that? Well, the average rainfall is 128 inches a year. The rainiest months, one of which is March, average 15 inches of rain.
When we arrived in Hilo on February 26, the weather was behaving true to form. Rain, rain, rain. It came and it went. It started and it stopped. It misted and it poured. We drove to a mall in it with Andrzej and Wiera, where we were to meet Ben and Emilia, and seated ourselves in an Arby's.
There, we had an unexpected pleasure. It was the coffee. One of the famous things I didn't know about The Big Island was its Kona coffee--grown and carefully handpicked right there--which, they say, is world renowned. I don't know what percentage of that Arby's coffee actually was Kona, since even on the island itself the beans are expensive, but it sure was good. (Let's put it this way: if, we were to compare fast food outlet coffees, a typical McDonald's would be a two. This would be a ten.)
When we arrived at the rental house (located on Hilo Bay) where we were to stay for the next few days, we discovered it to be next to a strange piece of property. A wall of vegetation, stretching perhaps thirty feet upwards, mostly hid a couple dilapidated structures next door made with a lot of corrugated metal and plastic. While someone evidently lived there, throughout our stay we spotted no homo sapiens amongst the vegetation.
The undergrowth was, however, definitely home to a chorus of...tree frogs. Once the sun went down, the frogs got happy and began whistling and cheeping to beat the band. We, of course, thought this to be charming but later learned that local residents consider the frogs, which are not native to Hawaii, a source of noise pollution.
As we bedded down that evening, the rain became our ally. It drummed and thrummed and finally began rushing down in torrents. Very soothing. In the morning we all reported having slept wonderfully well.
In Hilo, by the way, we basically were living in rainforest conditions. Ten miles to the north is Akaka Falls State Park which is an actual, gorgeous, unspoiled rainforest. Be that as it may, the humidity never became oppressive and air conditioning was not required. If we did feel warm, a ceiling fan did the trick. A nifty side benefit, we found, was that after hanging our suitcase-compacted clothing in the closet for a few hours, the wrinkles disappeared!
THE WEDDING
The big event, of course, was Ben and Emilia's wedding which took place on the morning of Feb. 27. After initially talking about having it on a beach it was decided we'd stick close to the rental house so that if rain intervened it could be held indoors. The backyard, overlooking the bay, is a lovely setting, and though the rain continued right up to and a little past the time for the ceremony, it then, as if on cue, stopped. After some discussion it was decided that the officiating pastor, Butch Hardman (Emilia's fellow staff member at McLean Presbyterian Church in Virginia and the most energetic 72-year-old I've ever met) would serve, as it were, as head umpire. If rain resumed he simply would announce that the remaining portion of the ceremony would be held indoors. Since, including the photographer, there were only nine of us, it wouldn't be a difficult feat to accomplish.
But the rain held off, at least through the ceremony and long enough afterwards for some quickly posed photographs. (To be accurate there was one point when it started again, lightly, but the bride and groom elected to tough it out and after a few minutes it stopped.)
As we stood there, the sun even peeked out for a while. The Hawaiian outdoor wedding was a success!
THE BIG ISLAND--AT LIGHTENING SPEED
Over the next three days, Andrzej and Wiera (Emilia's parents), Charity, and I covered a lot of ground.
Day One we drove out of the rain and into the sunshine, climbing the 26-mile road to Volcanoes National Park--and beyond. Actually we shot right past the park and ended up descending the mountain until stopping for directions at a big sign that said "COFFEE." There, we found tall, blonde-haired Lisa Dacalio, a 60-something retiree behind a table with a silver tea service, giving out cups of Kona coffee for whatever you wanted to donate. She and husband Jimmy grow and sell their own coffee and with free samples try to tempt passers-by to buy some. (I had a cup which, while not up to the Arby's standard, still was good.)
Anyhow, there at the Dacalio's we learned we actually were much closer to another goal we had for the day than we were to the volcanoes: Punalu'u Black Sand Beach. After a short drive we were there. Ah, at last. The Hawaii of the postcards: a tropical paradise. The sun was shining and the temperature was in the upper 70's. We strolled along the beach, sloshed in the water, and found a couple of the famed sea turtles to watch and photograph.
Retracing our steps, we did at last find Volcanoes National Park. After viewing a film at the Visitor Centre, we began driving along the road rimming a huge crater. The overall impression was one of acres and acres of overwhelming destruction. Black volcanic rock was everywhere. When we reached the viewing point for the crater, the greatest single bit of fascination for me was a little vent emitting steam hot enough to burn you (something we learned by experimentation). We also took the Chain of Craters Road down toward the ocean where, if one came prepared (two and a half quarts of water per person) one could actually walk far enough to see lava flowing. Since we hadn't come prepared and the sign at one point said we had to walk an additional two and a half miles each way to see the lava, we meekly returned to our rental car.
Then, with winged wheels, we flew back into the rain again and to Hilo.
Day Two was the day we would truly break the back of the island (or our own backs) by hurtling across famed Saddle Road, the most direct route to the west coast, and back. Saddle Road was built in a hurry by the federal government during World War Two and alternates between undulating and bone-rattling stretches. The U.S. military, which has bases along the way, has turned parts of the road into washboard with truck and tank traffic. Parts of it reminded me of the worst streets in Toronto after a hard winter, except the bad stretches just went on and on and on. However, the scenery was striking and at one point we stopped for photos with the great mountains in the background.
With delight we at last turned off Saddle Road and on to better highways. Soon we were in the vacation condominiumn paradise of Kona-Kohala where the weather nearly always is lovely (sunny, low 80's). The weather during our visit, blessedly, was no exception. It was there that most of us had our first experience snorkelling in a coral reef (albiet at a small public park) and saw all those colorful fishes we'd heard people rave about.
The return drive to Hilo (by way of the the nothern coast of the island) was, believe it or not, through (1) desert ranchland with cacti (2) forest ("looks like the road to the farm [in New York])," Charity said, and finally (3) rainforest. They say that The Big Island is like a complete continent, with 11 of 13 possible ecosystems. You can even get to tundra, and snow (at certain times) on the tall mountains.
As we approached Hilo again, yes, it was raining.
Day Three of our island blitzkreig we decided we'd take it easy and just do a short drive to Akaka Falls and the nearby Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden. As it happened, Divine Providence smiled upon us and as we awoke that morning in Hilo--Hilo I say--it was sunny and nearly cloudless. It was perfect for hiking the rainforest trails (something we all found immensely satisfying and interesting) without the usual squadrons of biting insects we'd been warned about.
As it turned out, Day Three became our most physically demanding one as we decided, in the afternoon, to accompany Ben and Emilia on a final foray. Roaring past the volcanoes and past the Black Sand Beach, we drove on and on, relentlessly, to a point of land on the southernmost tip of the island. It was, in fact, the southernmost point in the United States. It took some doing to get to the final destination, the famed Green Sand Beach. After a 12-mile drive off the main road, we parked our cars in a remote spot and began a trek, through lava fields and along rugged coastline, which took somewhere between 45 minutes and an hour. Up and down, over one crest of hill after another. (I felt, I reflected, a bit like Frodo and companions en route to Mordor...) More crafty citizens were making their way, illicitly, by way of four-wheel-drive vehicles.
Anyhow, at last, and gloriously, we made it. The hidden beach was down, down, down a steep sort of cliff which took some negotiating, and indeed was a pale green. Most of us took the plunge into the Pacific, which had those picture postcard blues and that super saltiness we'd heard about. (While in the waves, however I took some care as I felt the undertow.)
When we at last got back, with effort, to the cars, Andrzej, who sometimes surprised us with the aptness of his limited English expressions, said with a smile, "That's enough now of black sand beaches, green sand beaches, red sand beaches, and other beaches...!"
But of course it was not, by far, the last beach we would be visiting that week...
OAHU AND HOME
The next morning (March 3) Charity and I flew off to spend two days on Oahu, Hawaii's most populous island. That visit, of course, was remarkable in its own right and maybe I'll tell about that in another post.
At 11:30 p.m. March 4 Honolulu time, we took off for home. It was around 70 F (21 C) in Hawaii when we left. We landed in Toronto at 8:15 p.m. EST on March 5 and, on our ten minute walk from the airport shuttle drop-off point to home, the wind chill was -13 F (-25 C) .
Enough said!
posted by Ted | 10:49 AM
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