We're halfway through our trip. Eleven days in paradise still needs to be longer. We've done almost everything we've wanted, but we all want more time to do it again.
I'm not entirely certain what's happening here, but it must be documented as part of our trip.
This morning, we attempted to find a new snorkeling spot and ended up on the winding road to Hana. If you've never been on that road, it's got a 15mph speed limit in most places, with hairpin curves that require you to honk your horn as you come around the blind corners, so neither car going in both directions swerves quickly off the side of the mountain. Oh! And every bridge can only handle one vehicle at a time, so the game of Chicken happens every few miles.
The views were spectacular, and I highly recommend the adventure. Take Dramamine for motion sickness, or bring a diffuser with peppermint. We did neither, so we felt rather queasy the rest of the day, but we were all so happy about the unexpected detour.
We never did get in the water to snorkel this morning. We once thought we had found the "beaches of all beaches." The shoreline was massive, with over a mile of white sand and barely a soul in sight. Even the parking lot was mostly empty. As we rounded the corner to get down to the beach, we encountered a colossal lifeguard stand, something I'd never seen on a public beach. Three lifeguards were standing watch. Then we saw the signs and flags.
The beach may have looked perfect for snorkeling, but it had a deadly undertow and waves that crashed directly onto the beach. This means you have little to no chance of getting out to a safe place to swim or returning without being hammered into the sand. (Waves should crash onto themselves and then roll over water to the shore. Waves coming all the way in and then crashing at the last minute onto the shoreline is not a good sign.) Bill and I are tall enough to jump over the waves, but no way our kids would have made it.
I've grown up around the water, specifically beaches, and I've always relied on my grandparents to tell me when it was safe to go out. I don't know the meaning of most flags, and I can barely spot an undertow unless it's super obvious, which most aren't.
Had those lifeguards not been there, I may not have assessed the situation correctly; the beach looked like the most inviting beach I've ever seen. The only people on the beach were a male model and a camera crew taking photos for an upcoming advertisement. Even they stayed clear of the water line.
We may not have succeeded in getting in a family swim, but we enjoyed the views. On the way home, we saw chickens trying to cross the road. Ha! Why didn't stop to ask them, "Why?"
Chickens on the side of the road are definitely a "thing" now.
I don't remember seeing them everywhere as a child.
We spent the rest of the day in and out of the pool chatting with other people at the resort. Something has always felt different during this trip from when I've been here, and I figured out the difference tonight. This resort is usually packed in August, with every room constantly booked. Every resort up and down the island is about 1/4 to 1/2 booked.
In the hot tub tonight, we talked to more locals. That's odd. Usually, everyone in the resort is on vacation, so they aren't from Hawaii. Of the booked rooms, half them are with people who lost their homes in last year's fire. Once again, they confirmed that they ushered cars onto Front Street until they were bumper-to-bumper "parked cars" and then sealed off the exits with law enforcement refusing to let anyone out. Over 101 people died that day, and instead of being allowed to escape, they were held captive to die in a fire.
One of the men held captive in his car was in the hot tub with us, and he narrowly escaped his vehicle to jump in the water. He said he had to spend most of his time underwater. The heat from the fire was the most intense heat he'd ever experienced.
Another couple we talked to tonight has lived here for over 35 years; she closed her shop early in the morning when they cut power and water to Lahaina and drove home to grab something to eat since she couldn't run her shop without water or power. She later discovered that had she not been hungry at that moment, she would have been a victim. She was one of the last people to get out before they held all of those innocent people hostage.
The anniversary of this fire is on August 8th. Almost everyone affected by the fire is still homeless and without much hope of getting their land back. Staying at this resort costs them 7K a month, and "the government gives them a little bit of money to help cover this expense." They must make up the rest; most are emptying their savings accounts to survive.
A new pastime for Malley. And you can sneak of peek of our view from over his shoulder.
This sad part of the conversation was over right after it began. We spent most of the time laughing, and the elderly couples enjoyed the antics of our children since they were grandparents missing their grandchildren. This night was a welcomed reprieve for them.
Comments