Hawaii 1991

We stayed over at my parents’ house the night of July 4th, getting to bed about 2:00 a.m. after a full day of packing and preparations and partying at Jeff's.  I set the travel alarm for 5:30 a.m. or so, but we never heard it.  At five after six my dad called into the bedroom asking what time we were supposed to get up.  Sharon responded, "Probably now."  My initial reaction was that we would never catch our 6:55 flight.  But we did with 10 minutes to spare, thanks in part to my dad's record time—20 minutes—to the airport.

At JFK airport my primary concern was to catch a last smoke before the smokeless five-hour flight to Los Angeles.  Smoking is forbidden in JFK, so I sucked one down in the bathroom.  The flight to Los Angeles was over half-empty, which made sleeping quite accommodating and sleeping made going smokeless effortless.  In the Los Angeles airport we drank a large beer, ate some sort of Japanese soup, and waited for our flight to Honolulu.

I stayed awake the entire flight to Honolulu, spending most of my time writing out addresses on our wedding invitations and easily managed without smoking.  The plane landed in Honolulu a little before 4:00 p.m. local time (Honolulu time is 6 hours ahead of Eastern Daylight Saving Time).  The cost by taxi from the airport to Waikiki was estimated at $18.00, the bus was exactly $.60 per person.  We took the bus.  The ride was not only inexpensive it was also cramped and uncomfortable—you get what you pay for.  I had arranged to meet Van and Marcia at the Hawaiian Regent.  I didn't know where it was, nor did Van; fortunately, the bus driver did. 

The Hawaiian Regent was eminently decorous and Van was nowhere to be found, although a receptionist confirmed that Van's father, Roger Jones, was checked into the hotel, but they had no listing for "Van Jones."  I figured Van would show up eventually, so we had a beer and a pina colada while we waited for the eventuality.  Within a half-hour Van, who had registered under "Evan Jones," came looking for and found us.

We went up to Van's hotel room, and afterwards Sharon took a shower while Van and I went up to the 30th floor of the hotel to get a better view of Waikiki and the sunset.  Our view was confined to a window-sized opening in the stairwell.

A short while after sunset we all went out to find a place to eat.  Van was in the mood for Italian food, we found a place called Spats or something like that, which served Italian, and that's where we ate—it wasn't exactly what I had in mind.  The place was dark, stuffy, and cold; the food, at least my wild boar ravioli, was pretty good.  After dinner we walked around a bit, going through an outdoor shopping plaza, where at one of the stalls we stopped to look at the beach towels for a moment and were accosted by the lady running the place, demanding to know how many towels we wanted.  The answer was none.  We also walked along the beach a ways, although Marcia couldn't walk in the sand for some reason.  Back in the hotel I drank a beer out on the balcony and then we all went to bed about 11:00.

NOTES:

• Our first day was not particularly eventful, but then the first day of travel, particularly after such a long flight, seldom is.  Waikiki was pretty much what I expected, lots of new high-rise hotels, a myriad number of souvenir shops, and tropical weather.  There were more foreigners than I expected, particularly Japanese, which made it feel as though you were in a foreign country—like maybe Japan.

• Accompanying Van and Marcia at the hotel were his parents and his brother and his wife and child.  Mr. Jones was springing for the whole crew to take a cruise around the islands, at about $5,000 a pop.

Photo A

 Hawaii 1991 - Honolulu - View from Van's hotel room

Hawaii 1991 - Honolulu - Waikiki at dusk    

We all awoke within a few minutes of 7:00 a.m. and took turns using the shower.  Afterwards we went out in search of breakfast, electing to eat at the Denny's-like restaurant attached to the hotel.  The prices for the standard American breakfast were steep, about $6.50 for 2 eggs, sausage, and hash browns, and the service was less than amiable, but the food was good.  Sharon particularly liked her macadamia nut pancakes with coconut syrup.  I left the restaurant stuffed and overcharged for my meal.  I got the check reduced but my stomach remained bloated for hours.

Back in the hotel room, we plotted what to do for the rest of the day.  Van and Marcia had to catch their cruise ship at 5:30 or so.  Van wanted to see Pearl Harbor and he didn't want to travel via bus, so we decided to rent a car if we could rent one, which I did.  The plan was for Sharon, Van, and Marcia to go pick up the car while I waited at the hotel with everyone's luggage.  (Van wanted to pick up an eclipse T-shirt on the way to the rental agency.)  About a half-hour after they left, Van and Marcia returned without a car or Sharon.  Van then went off in an attempt to find Sharon.  While he was gone Sharon showed up with the car; I took off to find Van, who had returned in my absence.  Finally we were all present and accounted for, almost—Marcia tired of the wait and had gone into a gift shop.  It was a little after 11:00 a.m. before we got on the road, with Van driving and me navigating.  En route to Pearl Harbor along the "Interstate," the traffic came to a halt, that is all of it except one car beside us who rammed into the car in front of it.

We found Pearl Harbor with little difficulty and parked.  We had a couple hour wait before we could see the main attraction, that being the USS Arizona Memorial, so we toured the small but interesting museum on the grounds, took a soda break (Marcia was not feeling well), and then walked over to a nearby submarine exhibit.  The USS Arizona tour was free, but it cost six dollars to tour the inside of the submarine.  Sharon and I didn't go inside, but Van and Marcia did.

Next we took the USS Arizona tour, which began with a 25-minute movie.  The movie was slanted toward the American point of view but was understandably, what with all the Japanese around (though there weren't many on this tour), fairly evenhanded.  Then it was on to the memorial itself via ferry.  The memorial is a low slung, saddle-roofed structured that spans the width of the sunken battleship, sunk along with its crew of 1177 on December 7, 1941.  One of the ship's turrets rises above the water, the rest of the ship can be seen a few feet below the water.  The memorial is tastefully done, although I didn't find it overly impressive.

We drove to a place called the Punch Bowl after leaving Pearl Harbor.  The Punch Bowl is a circular depression, approximately a mile in diameter, inside a hill that overlooks downtown Honolulu.  Inside the depression is a cemetery.  From the perimeter, one gets a good look of the surrounding area, including the airport, Waikiki, and Diamond Head.  I took a little video from the vantage offered.

Next it was onto Honolulu Harbor, where Van and Marcia were to board their cruise ship.  The plan had been for Sharon and I to go aboard the ship for awhile, but we weren't permitted to do so for a half-hour.  Van wanted to get on board and Sharon and I didn't want to hang around, so we parted ways at the terminal.  I then drove back, through horrendous traffic, to Waikiki.  We found the Kuhio Banyan Club, the time-share resort we had previously made reservations at courtesy of Sharon's father, who had given us a week of his time-share use.  Finding a parking space was not so simple.  After parking the car and checking into the resort, we returned the car rental.

The Kuhio Banyan is located in the heart of Waikiki on Kuhio Street.  We were put in unit 208, which was elegantly furnished and comfortable, although the unit was no larger than a standard hotel room.  After we settled in, we went out in search of a beer and a sunset, Hawaiian style.  We found a poolside bar along the beach at a Sheraton, which featured a band playing Hawaiian music and a Polynesian dancer—the "Lovely ???."  We drank a couple beers and one very potent mai tai, ate the munchies provided, and joked with the bartender.  I asked the bartender (who we later found out was named Garrett), "Just how much is a mai tai?"  He answered, "$600.00."  I told him to take it out of the $1000.00 bill (a twenty) I put down and said I wanted some change."

A little buzzed we left the Sheraton and walked further down the beach to a jetty for sunset viewing.  The sun, unfortunately, did not set on the ocean from our vantage but rather behind some low-lying hills a few degrees north of the water.  Looking due west from the jetty was ocean, but to my surprise the sun set a few degrees to the north; thus, no ocean sunset.  It was beautiful and pacific all the same.  For the first time since we'd been in Hawaii, we felt at ease.  The sun to our delight went down on Hawaiian time, which means it took its good ol' time.

Now it was time to find dinner.  We did quite a bit of walking around Waikiki, and eventually settle upon some restaurant on a side street we had passed by early on in our quest.  Sharon ordered a pineapple cheeseburger, and I a mako mako fish sandwich.  The prices were reasonable and the food good.  After dinner we walked around Waikiki some more, stopped off at a convenience store and bought four 16-ounce Budweisers, which we drank on a bench overlooking the Ala Wai Canal.  Then we returned to our room at the Kuhio Banyan, where we watched "Live at the Improv" and drank Primo beer.                    

NOTES:

• It was fun to spend time with Van and Marcia in Honolulu, but on the other hand it was a weight off our shoulders to finally be alone.  Traveling with four can be taxing.

• Ah yes, the sun.  At noon or shortly thereafter it was directly overhead, a phenomenon I had never previously encountered.  The constant breeze of the trade winds, however, kept the heat in check (not that it wasn't hot and not that we didn't exercise precaution).

Hawaii 1991 - Pearl Harbor

Hawaii 1991 - Pearl Harbor USS Arizona Memorial

Hawaii 1991 - looking down on Honolulu from the Punchbowl

Hawaii 1991 - Waikiki - street view

Hawaii 1991 - Waikiki - Sheraton bar

Hawaii 1991 - Waikiki - Another sunset

We awoke about 9:30, which gave us less than a half-hour to get ready for the breakfast and Hawaii seminar offered by the Kuhio Banyan Club.  The breakfast consisted of pastry and coffee, and the seminar included a short film on the island of Oahu and short talk by some fellow on the attractions of Oahu and the activities offered by the club.  Afterwards we decided to take the bus to the Aloha Flea Market at Aloha Stadium out near Pearl Harbor.

We caught bus #20 in front of the Kuhio Banyan and arrived at the flea market by 1:00 p.m.  The ride flew by for me because I'd brought my book, Absalom, Absalom, to read.  The flea market was huge, having hundreds and hundreds of stalls, all selling pretty much the same stuff:  T-shirts, Hawaiian shirts, dried fruits, more T-shirts, and so on.  None of the merchandise was of high quality and it lacked diversity.  We walked around in the blazing midday sun for a little over an hour, purchasing only two Hawaiian shirts at $10 apiece for me.

The bus back to Waikiki was filled to capacity (we had to stand the whole way), and the ride seemed to take forever in the choking Honolulu traffic.  We got off the bus at the Ala Moana Center, a huge outdoor shopping mall.  First we briefly wandered around an arts festival in e, across the street from the shopping center, and then we hiked, or in my case limped, around the mall.  The merchandise here was of higher quality and greater diversity than at the flea market, but we didn't buy anything except some Dr. Shoals shoe cushions and corn cushions.  My feet, as they always do on the first day or two of a vacation, had turned into a knarled, rotting appendage of pain.  The cushions helped.  We also had lunch at the mall.  I wanted a small order of some Thai chicken kabobs; somehow I ended up with a huge plate of god knows what—for the most part it was pretty good. Sharon ate very little.

From the Ala Moana Center we walked the 20 or so blocks back to the Kuhio Banyan Club.  Attached to the Kuhio Banyan Club was a little clothes store, where Sharon bought her first(?) souvenir, a Paradise Found Hawaiian shirt.  Back in our room, we relaxed a bit and then started working on the wedding invitations, which was indeed work.  We ceased working at 8:00 p.m. or thereabouts and went out in search of the Honolulu Hard Rock Cafe.  Our sole reason in going to the Hard Rock Cafe was to buy Gwen a T-shirt, which we had promised her in exchange for taking care of the cats.  The cafe is located within a block or two of the Ala Moana Center, meaning we had to walk the long distance back to where we had previously been.  We did, bought a Hard Rock Cafe eclipse T-shirt, and walked back.  The bagels helped.

Once back in Waikiki we stopped at the Sheraton bar, the one we'd visited the evening before, for a beer and then we began looking for a place to eat.  We spent a very long, frustrating time looking for a place to eat.  Having eaten all that Thai food, I was not nearly as hungry as Sharon.  By this time, nearing 11:00 p.m., most restaurants had closed.  We ended up feasting at a combo Taco Bell-Pizza Hut joint, which was not exactly what we'd envisioned. 

Following our gourmet extravaganza we returned to the Kuhio Banyan Club, where we watched TV and read up on some of the sights to see in Oahu.

NOTES:

• As surely the log notes would indicate, this day was consumed with shopping yet not much buying.  I shot no video nor took any pictures the entire day.

• Ah LOW Ha!  Hang loose!  Hawaiian time!  And all that jazz.

Aloha Flea Market [by rbrtwhite from Flickr]

Ala Moana Center [by yoshibo4 from Flickr]

Honolulu Hard Rock Cafe [by comawe from Flickr]

Waikiki Sheraton [by Steve Rosset from Flickr]

The day’s first order of business was to locate a post office and buy stamps for the wedding invitations.  And this we did.  The invitations to our surprise required a 52 cent stamp, fortunately the stamps had an ideal design (two tropical birds and the word "Love").  Next we ate breakfast at a coffee and sandwich place; I had the sausage sandwich and regretted my choice.

The time had come to do some exploring.  We caught the bus to Diamond Head, but not without a near mix-up—I had tired of waiting for the bus, so I browsed in a shop window.  The bus came, but Sharon didn't see me anywhere and assumed I must have boarded the bus, which I hadn't realized had come.  As she went to board the bus, she spotted me over by the store window; thus, avoiding her singular exploration of Diamond Head.

The bus dropped us off on the main road running by Diamond Head State Monument.  From the bus stop it took a little under thirty minutes to walk to the parking lot inside the crater, all uphill.  From the crater to the summit along the dirt and rock path took another forty minutes, forty hot and sweaty minutes.  Besides intense hiking, the path to the summit features some spectacular vantage points, a cat who apparently lives there, one steep stairway of 99 steps, and a couple dark, narrow tunnels.  The view from the military bunker at the summit is impressive, taking in Waikiki, an old lighthouse, million dollar estates, sailboats, and the interior mountains.  We drank some of the water we'd brought along, and I snapped some pictures and shot some video.  Then we hiked down the trail and back to the bus stop.  At an overlook point near the bus stop, several busloads of Japanese tourist overran the grounds.  We had to laugh at a group of them getting their picture taken by a cameraman who cajoled them repeatedly with "Ah LOW Ha."

We caught the bus for Hanauma Bay the moment we reached the bus stop.  The ride was probably no more than ten miles but took about an hour because of road construction and Oahu's general traffic congestion.  On top of that, the bus left us off about a mile from the bay.  The walk was of course almost all uphill.  Even on a cool day, all this uphill walking would have taken its toll, and today was sweltering. 

Hanauma Bay is noted for its snorkeling, by many considered to be the best in Oahu.  We elected not to snorkel, however, because we didn't want to leave the camera and palmcorder unattended.  Instead we walked along the beach and out on the southern shelf bordering the bay, at the end of which we expected to find the Toilet Bowl, a small pool that repeatedly fills with underground water and then empties when the tide runs out, which supposedly offers the swimmer quite a thrill.  The Toilet Bowl, however, is on the northern shelf.  The seaward end of the southern shelf was nonetheless impressive in its stark ferocity, conjuring up images of tsunami sweeping the unsuspected away.

Upon leaving Hanauma Bay, we searched for an alternate route to the Toilet Bowl, which according to my travel book started from the parking lot.  We found the trail, complete with signs forbidding entry and warning of unstated dangers.  Despite the signs we started down the well-worn trail, spotting several mongoose along the way, but we turned back before the end because . . . just because.

We caught a bus near the parking lot, which eliminated the need to hike down the steep incline we had previously hiked up en route to the bay.  On the ride back to Waikiki we chatted with a couple from Australia, names unknown, whom we had met on the bus ride out to the bay.  It was pleasant conversing with them.  They liked American pancakes.

Back at the Kuhio Banyan we examined our sunburns, nothing serious, and started in on the wedding invitations again.  No question about it, this invitation business was not a day at the beach, we had to question if it was all really worth it just for a Honolulu postmark.  We stopped to go out for a look at the sunset and dinner.  We walked along the beach, shooting some video along the way, and for the third time pulled into the beachside bar at the Sheraton for a couple beers.  After refreshments we set off to find dinner in earnest, settling upon a completely empty although quite pleasant Chinese restaurant.  Among the dishes we ate was shark soup.  After dinner it was back to the Kuhio Banyan for more fun with wedding invitations.  This shift completed the task.

About 11:30 p.m. we went to a club with dancers.  Sharon didn't particularly like the place, so we left after one very expensive beer.  After again returning to the hotel, Sharon went out in search of beer.  The only thing is, she found out, beer can't be bought to go after 12:00 a.m. in Hawaii.  I discovered the same thing myself.  If you can't take the beer out, then the only thing left to do is drink the beer inside, which we did at a nearby bar.  The bar, although nearly empty, had a Kereoke player, a machine that plays the soundtrack of popular songs sans the vocal and also displays the words on a TV monitor along with pictures, allowing one or more people to sing along.  The fellow running the Kereoke player persuaded us to join in the merriment, and we did until the place closed.  It was a lot of fun.  While at the bar we met an employee who was from the town of Hanapepe in Kauai, who wrote out a list of sights to see in Kauai.

Shortly after returning to the hotel, I went to sleep.  Sharon stayed up awhile longer.

NOTES:

• Compared to the previous day, this one was very adventuresome and full, even if it was a little bumpy at times in the later hours.

Hawaii 1991 - On the way to Diamond Head

Hawaii 1991 - Looking down from atop Diamond Head

Hawaii 1991 - Sharon at the top of Diamond Head

Hawaii 1991 - The slums beneath Diamond Head 

Hawaii 1991 - Coming down from Diamond Head 

Hawaii 1991 - Welcome to Hanauma Bay

We woke rather early, about 9:00, despite the late night past.  I did my laundry at the hotel while Sharon packed up the invitations, which were gonna get mailed afterall.  After we had packed up most of our belongings, we went out to mail the invitations, buy a bathing suit for me at a Crazy Shirt store, and eat some breakfast.  On the way to the post office we must have looked like what we were—a couple on their way to mail wedding invitations—because someone asked us along the way if that's what we were doing.  We ate breakfast at the International Market Place and then headed back to the Kuhio Banyan.  The receptionist at the hotel reserved a tour bus to take us to the airport to catch our 2:00 p.m. scheduled flight to Maui.

The bus driver took us, albeit via the roundabout route, to the Aloha Airlines terminal at the Honolulu Airport.  We got there with plenty of time to spare.  The Aloha Airlines ticket representative told us that no flights had opened up leaving the big island, for which we had reservations in but nothing out, so we decided to go to Maui for the solar eclipse, where the southern part of the island was expected to experience one minute of totality versus four minutes on the big island.  The ticketman also told us we could save, approximately $100, by buying a book of six tickets as opposed to buying individual tickets, so that’s what we did.  I specifically told him I wanted to leave the return flight from Kauai on July 14 open but I wanted to preserve our 7:00 reservation.  After we finished with the ticket business, we went and had a couple beers at an airport snack bar, where we chatted briefly with a couple women from California—and I mean they were from California.

The flight to Maui took no more than a half-hour, but what the ride lacked in length, it more than made up for with excitement in the form of a fast and wobbly descent through what I assume were some rough winds.  I was not fazed in the least, but Sharon held her breath.  At the airport in Kahului we picked up our Thrifty rental car, a maroon Chrysler Acclaim, and drove away without any real idea where we wanted to go, which was a shame because we wasted a lot of time going nowhere; whereas, if we had had a better idea of what we wanted to see and do, we could have accomplished considerably more on this day.  But, hey, we were tired.  We finally stopped at a supermarket and bought some beer among other things and then drove to the town of Paia.  We had a late lunch/early dinner at an outdoor cafe, with some very good cafe au lait, in town.  Afterwards, we walked around this "two horse" town, looking in the shop windows, trying unsuccessfully to find our way down to the beach (where supposedly the world comes to wind surf), and around dusk we stopped into Charley's for a beer.  Charley's was the restaurant/bar where we had parked our car.  Our beer selection was Pali, a local Hawaiian beer, which took some getting use to.  (Unfortunately, the waitress wouldn't let me take the bottle, although she did try to liberate the label from the bottle for me—she failed miserably.)

Based on a tip we got at Charley's, we drove back to Kahului in search of a hotel.  We found a strip of hotels and picked one.  Our room wasn't too awfully bad, except it was cramped, the doorknob came off, the TV didn't work, the ice machine was a rip-off, and it cost $65.  Sharon called the front desk and someone came to fix the doorknob and TV.  Sharon then fell asleep for the night.  I, on the other hand, stayed up late drinking beers, watched the Baseball All-star Game, and fiddled around with paperwork.  Although the National League lost and I couldn't seem to get focused enough to get anything done, I had an enjoyable time.

NOTES:

• This was a travel day that was not wisely spent.  We arrived in Maui without any having done adequate planning on what to do and then found out after our arrival that there was so much we wished we could have seen and done.  I suppose there is a self-evident lesson to be learned in there.

• The town of Paia was the highlight of the day.  This old sugar town remains laid back, rustic, and uncrowded while at the same time offering quite a bit to see, eat, and buy.  In fact, a clothes store there had the best selection of Paradise Found T-shirts of any store we encountered, but of course I neglected to buy any. 

Hawaii 1991 -  Kahului, Maui

Hawaii 1991 -  A rundown gas station in rustic Paia, Maui 

Hawaii 1991 -  The road through Paia, Maui 

Hawaii 1991 -  Maui north shore sunset

The day before the eclipse.  We woke about 9:00 and had a light breakfast at the hotel before checking out.  After we got on the road we picked up a few more supplies (water, food, and more beer) and started en route to Kaupo.  The steering on our rental car, however, continued to make the loud, grinding noise it had made since we first got it, so we made a U-turn back to the airport to get another car.  Thrifty gave us a new car without any hassle, and within fifteen minutes, we were back on the road in a white Chrysler Acclaim. 

We drove as far as Keokea, another untainted, two-horse town on the island.  In Keokea we stopped at Grandma's Cafe for cafe au lait and chili.  Then it was back on the road.  Route 37 immediately degenerated outside of Keokea, but it remained reasonably fit for driving.  The scenery also soon changed drastically from lush vegetation to a two hundred year old lava field, which resembled what I picture the moon to look like, or parts of Wales for that matter.  We stopped periodically to take pictures and shoot some video.  There was some traffic on this route, probably more than there'd ever been before, but not as much as I had expected.

From our vantage point in the southwestern corner of Maui, we could see Molokini Island, the island of the gecko, and beyond Molokini, Kahoolawe, an island used by the military for artillery practice.  We entered a forested region a couple miles before where Route 37 changes course from south to east.  Here we stopped at the Tedeschi Winery, took a tour of the place, and sampled some of their wines.  We also used their facilities.  From what they told us at the winery, this is the only one in all of Maui.  From the taste of the wine, the world is just as well off that there aren't more.  I was surprised to learn that all Champaign is basically tasteless until at the end of the aging process cognac, sugar, and water are added to provide flavor.

A mile or so after Tedeschi the lava field landscape intensified and the road took a serious turn for the worse, becoming narrower and narrower and bumpier and bumpier.  Crossing over a wooden beamed bridge spanning a gorge, plenty deep enough to kill anyone who went over the side of this not very assuring bridge, made us wonder what we were getting ourselves into (like maybe another over the Alps from Switzerland to Italy).  Soon we could spot areas where people had set up camp to watch the eclipse, but we drove on in search of "maximum Maui totality."

We passed by a couple promising looking camps and then a bivouac with fire trucks, first aid tents, and an assortment of uniformed men.  Onward we drove.  Without warning the road suddenly turned into what resembled a dried creek bed, with no place to turn around.  We drove for maybe a mile on this stretch, me doing my best to avoid the craters.  I pulled into a cow lane and asked someone on horseback, "How far to Kaupo."  We were informed that this was Kaopo.  This being Kaupo, we didn't really want any part of it, so we turned around and headed back to one of the camps we'd seen a couple miles back.  We got turned away at the first place we tried to stop, but found a place to park in the second.  That place to park wasn't one, however, until I made it one.

We then scoped out the place.  There were perhaps twenty-five cars and trucks parked on the slope that ran down to the ocean.  We later learned we were on the western perimeter of Nu'u Bay on someone's ranch, who permitted camping for the occasion.  The beach directly down from our campsite was consisted entirely of mounds of football-sized rocks, however, a little further up the coast it consisted of gray sand.  Also the place was like being in a wind tunnel.  After checking out the beach, we returned to the car and ate a couple canned-meat sandwiches and cracked a couple beers.  A beat up old truck pulled into the campsite with a tuna chest full of Budweiser beer, $2 per can, $8 for a six pack.  We bought two cans and were given a chunk of ice to cool off the beers we already had.  One of the two fellows selling the beer was originally from South Philadelphia and it was obvious.  He told his story of how he came to Hawaii, a story we heard often—just stopped by for a few days and here it is "x" many years later and still here.  I think his name was Todd.

Shortly after the beer truck left, a Californian by the name of Blake pulled in to the campsite and parked his rental jeep next to our car.  (Since we were parked at the entrance of the campsite and the traffic cones had been set up in front of our car, we ended up being gatekeeper.)  Blake had come to Maui by himself to see the eclipse.  He was a pleasant fellow and we talked with him for awhile.  We drank another beer and took another walk down to the ocean.  I hadn't felt entirely right all day, nothing really to complain about, but the second afternoon beer hit me pretty hard.

Upon returning to our campsite, we found another car had managed to squeeze between our car and the brush.  The two fellows sitting on the hood were James and Steve (or David?).  Steve was a quiet, somewhat strange-looking fellow and Steve was an extroverted Italian.  Both were originally from Connecticut, had been close friends since childhood, and had been living in Honolulu for several years.  Steve had lived on Orange Avenue in Media, Pa., while in the Navy.  He was my age and James was about five or so years older.  We got to talking with these two fellows and we started drinking the beer.  The sun went down, a few clouds rolled in, it got dark, and we went on rambling and pounding beers.  I found both of these guys quite interesting, particularly James—he worked as a pilot instructor, said he had a ninth degree black belt, and had a calm assurance about himself.

While we partied, several campers on their way to the Johnny-on-the-spot set up near the road, stopped to chat.  Most of the passers-by were space cadets; for instances this one fellow who stopped by introduced himself as a man who'd been all over the world, including San Diego.  After he left, Steve pointed out that to a man from San Diego, "all over the world" could encompass such places as L.A., Venice Beach, etc.  Just about the time we ran out of beers, the beer truck came by again, but it didn't have the beer chest aboard.  The guys running the operation said they'd be back with the beer.  These guys, although friendly and likeable, weren't the sort of folks you ever expected to see again.  They took awhile but they came back—with the Budweiser.  We bought two sixes.  The party went on.

I don't know what time it was when we called it a night, but I knew I'd done some drinking.  And had a good time.  The rest, we all agreed, was up to the weather. 

NOTES:          

• In the it's a small world department:  Steve and I had both attended the 1978 Rolling Stones concert at JFK Stadium and we both watched the concert from the field, centered in front of the stage, maybe no more than a couple feet from one another.  Or as Steve said, "And they say it's a small world."

• Todd, the man from South Philly in the beer truck, had some weed—from the mainland! 

• The Acclaim rocked.

Hawaii 1991 - Grandma's Coffee House in Keokea, Maui

Hawaii 1991 - Rugged country heading south in Maui

Hawaii 1991 - Tedeschi Winery in Maui

Hawaii 1991 - Marc in a coastal lava field, SW Maui

Hawaii 1991 - Sharon near camp area on Nu'u Bay in Kaupo, Maui

Hawaii 1991 - Marc on the rocks beside Nu'u Bay in Kaupo, Maui

Hawaii 1991 - View of camp area on Nu'u Bay in Kaupo, Maui

We awoke shortly after daybreak.  I had a hangover and on top of that, I felt ill—the chills and that sort of thing.  Oh yeah, and it was raining.  Given my physical condition, I went back to sleep.  It was still a couple hours until totality time, and although the situation didn't look good, there was still hope.  About 6:30 a.m. James knocked on the window to say goodbye.  He and Steve had concluded the eclipse was not going to be visible and figured they'd be better off trying someplace else, at least they'd beat the traffic.  A little later Sharon ventured outside.  Most of the people at the campsite by this time were standing outside in the rain waiting for what I don't know.  Come 7:30 a.m. the sky got dark, comparable to the darkness ten minutes or so after sunset.  I looked out the car window in the direction of the sun, but neither I nor Sharon or anyone else in the Kaupo area saw the sun at 7:30 on July 11, 1991; that's the way it was suppose to be—eclipsed by moon—the disappointing part was that we didn't see the moon either.

Sharon and I slept another hour or so.  When I awoke my hangover seemed to be gone, but I still felt ill.  We packed up our things and talked to Blake for a few minutes.  Before we left, we gave Blake our gallon of water, taro chips, and canned meat.  And then we left the spot where we were gonna see a total eclipse, but didn't because it got rained out. (There must be an old lesson in there somewhere.)  Surprisingly, the road back was nearly empty.  I guess everyone wanted to beat the rush.  A foul burning odor emitted from the car's engine, which made me regret having given away our water and didn't exactly help my physical condition.  We stopped at Grandma's Cafe in Keokea again for cafe au lait and chili.  Afterwards we drove past the airport and on to Iao Valley State Park, where we spent a half-hour trying to get a parking space and another half-hour for the rain to let up enough so we could get out of the car and explore the park.  By the time the rain let up, we had about ten minutes to look around.  The park featured a rushing, pristine stream, a spire shaped mountain called Iao Needle, and encircling hills from which there plunged several narrow waterfalls. 

We left the park and headed to the airport to catch our 2:00 p.m. flight to Kauai.  The flight to Kauai took approximately forty-five uneventful minutes.  At the Lihue airport we picked up our rental car, this time a blue Chrysler Acclaim, and with Sharon at the wheel we proceeded to head north.  My condition had not improved despite my efforts to forget about it.  I felt like I had a fever, which was getting increasingly hotter.  The net result was that I became less and less functional.  We stopped in the town of Princeville on the northern coast of the island looking for a place to stay.  The town seemed to be one gigantic condominium complex, much too sanitary and charmless.  Sharon continued driving along the north coast to the town of Hanalei in search of a motel listed in our travel book. 

We found the motel, and Sharon went in to inquire about vacancies while I remained in the car and burned up.  I had become virtually unable to function because of the fever, which at this time had probably reached its highest temperature.  The motel had no vacancies, but Sharon was directed to a condominium in Princeville at $50 a night.  So we drove back to Princeville, found the condominium unit, and checked into the very accommodating room.  I then proceeded to try to get some sleep while Sharon went out in search of food, medicine, and a thermometer.  She came back with lots of food and medicine but no thermometer.  We ate soup, and I took some Nyquil.  Sharon then went out again on a thermometer scavenger hunt.  This time she came back with one.  My temperature was taken and measured a little under 102 degrees.  By this point I was starting to feel a little better—not good enough to get out of bed, just good enough to feel as though I was over the hump.

I stayed in bed the remainder of the night trying to sleep, successful more often than not.  Sharon didn't feel very good herself, so she too made it an early night.

NOTES:

• All in all the day was a far cry from what we'd envisioned.  But this day was real and different and in its own way an adventure and a lesson, which is a hell of a lot more than can be said for most any day at work.

• We learned later on that the Big Island including the Kona Coast was entirely cloud covered except for the upper elevations of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, neither of which were open to visitors during the eclipse.  Thus, we didn't miss out by not going there. 

• We wondered how Van and Marcia made out on their cruise.  As it turned out, the ship's captain found an opening in the sky amid all those clouds, and the two lucky dogs got to see the whole "unbelievable" thing.  Oh well, there'll be other eclipses—Brazil in '94, China in?

Hawaii 1991 - Iao Needle, Maui

Hawaii 1991 - A rainy day in sunny Maui

 Lihue Airport [by 2penny2012 at Flickr]

Hanalei Valley in Kauai [by andrewbeckmann at Panoramio]

Road to Hanalei in Kauai [by shinyhappyislandgrl at Flickr]

Woke up early, woke up recovered.  Took a shower, drank some coffee made in a rather grungy coffeepot, and went into Hanalei for shopping and breakfast.  I bought a map of Kauai, and then we had breakfast, which was OK but forgettable.  The weather sprinkled on and off, which seems to be the norm on the north coast of Kauai, accounting for the ninety plus inches of rain the area receives each year.

After breakfast, Sharon called a condo owner at the same complex we stayed the night before to inquire about a room.  The room was available, so we drove back to Princeville to check it out.  It wasn't as pleasant as the one we stayed in the night before, and the owner was a fraud—no shoes or smoking in the room and a fifty dollar deposit that didn't include use of the pool—but we took it anyway.

Shortly after we moved our luggage into the room, we set off to explore—our vacation time was dwindling and there was a lot to see.  For what seemed the umpteenth time we drove through Hanalei again, but this time we kept on going along the north coast highway.  We stopped at a cave along the way called Waikanaloa Wet Cave, where we set up the tripod, my first and only use of the 2-and1/2 pound tripod I brought on the trip, and took our picture in front of this water-filled cave.  Our next stop was the end of the road at Ke'e Beach, also known as Bali Hai (derived from the fact that this beach was the location used for the fictional Bali Hai in the movie South Pacific).  The beach was what you see in the movie only it was covered by a bunch of tourist, mostly fat ones, so we set off on foot, heading westward, in search of the Kalalau Foot Trail, which runs along the Na Pali Coast. 

We started up what we figured was the trail, and it was rugged and beautiful and after about a half-mile all but impassable.  I couldn’t imagine that guidebooks would recommend such a treacherous hike on a trail hardly fit for a mountain goat, so we concluded that we weren't on the right trail.  We tried several other trails and routes, and everyone led us back to the same impassable point.  We got frustrated, particularly when we saw hikers, far less fit than ourselves on a trail up above our position.  We gave up, and on our way back to the car, we found the real trail.  The trail was relatively wide and safe although but at the beginning quite steep.  We worked up a good sweat hiking up it.  Surprisingly, I felt quite energetic, perhaps the Tylenol Cold and Flu medicine I'd taken earlier provided me with a boost.

The view from the top of the trail looks down the Na Pali Coast and it is a doosy—the cliffs that plunge straight down into the ocean are, as the guidebook says, "razor sharp."  I've never seen anything like it.

The hike down was, of course, comparatively easy although rather slick in places.  We got back in the car and drove back toward Hanalei, stopping first at Charo's restaurant for a bite and a beer and then for awhile at Lumahai Beach, which we referred to as "Gaynor's place," the beach where Mitzi Gaynor vowed, "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair."  We didn't stay there long and we didn't go for a dip.  We stopped again in Hanalei, this time for a beer and to make reservations for a Luau at Tahiti Nui, a luau that came highly recommended by our travel book.

Next we set out in search of Secret Beach, located a few miles east of Princeville.  First, we stopped at Kilauea point, where there is a lighthouse perched upon on a cliff jutting into the ocean.  Secret Beach, as the name would imply, was not an easy place to find and involved a half-mile plus hike through very dense jungle on a barely discernable trail.  But it was worth it:  the beach is beautiful, secluded, and exceptionably big by Hawaiian standards, affords a view of the lighthouse, and also happens to be a nude beach.  Here we made our first foray on the entire vacation into the water.  The waves were so-so and the ocean floor plunged rather steeply, but all the same it was a lot of fun, except for when a wave knocked my glasses off and I thought I'd never see them again. (Amazingly, I found them on the ocean floor despite having lost touch with them the first time I felt them.)  After our dip we walked most of the length of the beach and then doubled back down the beach and on up the jungle trail to our car.  The beach had only a few nude bathers, all but one or two of which were males, although quite a few tents and campsites were set up.

We stopped off briefly at our condo room to freshen up and then went to the Luau at the Tahiti Nui, arriving about 7:15 p.m.  This luau according to the travel book is a family-run operation, a Tahitian family.  Sharon and I sat at a table for two, the only one in the house, and ordered a couple beers.  Bagels.  The affair started off with a solo singer who began the show by playing "Tiny Bubbles," and followed with more songs and some jokes, many of which were about poi.  Dinner followed.  There was no pig roasting, and I don't know if any of the many, many dishes we were served included roast pig or not.  The food was tasty, except for the poi—which was, as we'd been told, similar to wallpaper paste in consistency only worse tasting.  After dinner there were more singers and dancers; there were young girls no more than six or seven performing and one fat old lady who sang a song.  Unfortunately, I neglected to bring my palmcorder into the luau.  I finally decided to go and get it out of the car, but the shindig ended a minute or so after I got back.

After the luau we sat out in front of the Tahiti Nui and finished our beers and then went to another nearby bar for another beer.  At about 11:00 p.m. we headed back to the condo, where we sat out on the porch (so I could smoke), where were drank more beers and whiled away the hours until 1:30 a.m. or so.

NOTES:

• I thought this day was about as full of a day as one is likely have on vacation without turning it into a maddening dash from place to place.  We did and saw quite a bit, and what we did and saw I thoroughly enjoyed.

2012  NOTES

Hawaii 1991 - Waikanaloa Wet Cave,\ Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Sharon on Kalalau Trail, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Lumahai Beach, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Kiluaea lighthouse near Secret Beach, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Road near Secret Beach, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Secret Beach, Kauai

After we awoke we hurried to get our bags packed because we had arranged for the owner to meet us at the apartment at 10:00 a.m. so she could inspect the place and we could get back our deposit.  There was time, however, for soup and sandwiches out on the porch.

The owner came on time, and we cleared out.  The plan was to find a luxury hotel near the Lihue Airport and then spend the rest of the day sightseeing along the southern coast and up the Waimea Canyon.  Of course, finding a place to stay is never a simple task.  The first place we stopped at, which was noted in our travel book, seemed ideal at first:  right on the ocean with all oceanfront rooms, balcony, a small kitchen, and it was reasonably priced.  So we checked in.  After about two minutes in the room, however, we began to have a change of heart:  the place had no TV, no pool, no real bed, and most demoralizing of all no air conditioning.  The room did, however, have cockroaches.  I presume the cockroaches stayed, but we left.

The next place we stopped at was the Kauai Hilton.  The impeccably manicured garden along the long drive leading to the main building of the hotel made it clear that it was going to cost bucks to stay there—$185 to be exact (for an ocean view).  We then drove to the e, which was where we ended up staying for $90.  By this time it was well past noon, so we quickly moved in and then headed back out.

We started off south and then drove west on route 50.  At route 520, we cut south to the beaches.  Where route 520 heads south from route 50, the road is lined by eucalyptus trees, forming a tree tunnel—a splendid and tranquil encounter.  Our stops along the ocean included a visit to the Spouting Horn (a blowhole in the rocks where underground water rushes in with the tide and shoots up anywhere from a couple to thirty feet in the air) and a small but crowded beach at Makahu'ena Point, where we went in the water and battled the pounding surf.  The surf won.

We then headed back to route 50 and on westward.  We stopped briefly in the town of Hanapepe, which bills itself as "Kauai's biggest little town."  The town is, as the guidebook says, a step back in time.  We drove from one end to the other—all of three to four blocks—turned around, and headed back to route 50.  Koke'e Road, which runs along the western side of the Waimea Canyon, is about ten miles up route 50 from Hanapepe.  The road quickly starts up hill, winding at every conceivable opportunity.  With the hairpin turns, no guard rails, and maniac bus drivers heading down the opposite way, there is cause for concern, but the road maintains a reasonable width and surface.

The sights along the Koke'e Road are spectacular if not quite on the scale of the Grand Canyon.  The Waimea Canyon itself resembles a smaller model of the big one in Arizona, which considering that it's 200 million years younger is nothing to be ashamed of.  We stopped at five or so of the lookout points along Koke'e road.  I thought the most stunning views were of the Na Pali Coast from near the end of the road, where the elevation reaches over 4000 feet.  At the last stop on the road, a trail leads off toward the western coast to hook up, I assume, with the Na Pali trail.  A sign at this location points to Mt. Wai'ale'ale, the wettest spot on earth.  But with 490 inches of rain a year Mt. Wai'ale'ale is prone to be under the weather.

The ride back down Koke'e Road was rather uneventful, although at the end we headed a mile or so westward on route 50, which is noteworthy only because it is as far west as Sharon and I have ever been.  We then zipped eastward back to route 520, admiring the landscape and vegetation along the way.  We cut down route 520 again in order to head back to the ocean, where we wanted to view the sunset, grab a bite to eat, and do some shopping.  After a little shopping in the town of Koloa, we drove to Po'ipu Beach Park.  This is the southernmost point on the island, but alas it did not afford a view of an ocean sunset.  The sunset was beautiful all the same.  We then went about looking for a place to get a snack, but nothing was open but sit-down restaurants, so we shopped.  By this point we were starting to get quite hungry, but figured we’d probably be best off going back to our hotel and looking for a place to eat nearby.

Back at the Aston Kauai resort we stopped off in our room, then browsed in the shops at the resort, and by then it was too late to eat at the hotel.  In fact, we were told it might be too late to eat anywhere except at Sizzlers.  It was only 9:30.  We did, nonetheless, find a fine dining establishment a mile up the road called the Seashell.  We were torn whether or not we should eat there or travel on looking for a place that served Polynesian chicken and risk not finding a place at all.  The Seashell couldn't guarantee how much longer they'd be open, so we opted to eat there.  The food was excellent, although as long as we'd gone without food it didn't take much to fill either of us.  The maitre d', or whatever he was, must have thought he was Maurice Chevalier, judging by his accent.  The fellow was amusing, however:  Sharon had gone to the restroom, and he asked me where the lady went.  I told him she'd left.  He replied, "Ah, the story of my life."

Back at the hotel, we went for a walk, intending to go down to the beach.  We ran into bunch of local youths whooping it up on the hotel's grounds near the ocean.  We just sat nearby and watched them, and soon thereafter we watched them get chased away by hotel security and the police.  I guess it’s the same all over.  The hotel security guard told us that the hotel had a hot tub, so we headed off to indulge in it.  The tub was occupied on our first pass by, so we returned to our room and went back a little later when it was empty.  Very nice. 

After we left the hot tub we ran into a cat, who looked exactly like our onetime outdoor cat Slick Rider, hanging out on the hotel steps.  We opened a can of chicken, part of the remaining food we had from Sharon's grocery shopping spree our first night in Kauai, and fed the cat.  He loved it.  We had another feline friend. 

By this time it was getting quite late, so I drank our last beer.  Then we went to bed.

NOTES:

• Why do I love battling the surf so?  It beats me up and clogs my ears.  I guess just because it's fun.

• "Only the best damn construction workers in the Pacific pass thru these gates."—a sign at a construction site.

2012  NOTES

• Na Pali Coast Sea Caves Tour  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ncfli36wxg&feature=related 

Hawaii 1991 - Maluhia Road tree tunnel, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Hanapepe, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Na Pali cliffs from Koke'e Road, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Marc at his westernmost point ever, Rt. 50, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Scenic view along Hwy 520, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Sunset & palm trees in beautiful Kauai

This was our last day in Kauai and in the Hawaiian Islands, so of course the first thing we did was go shopping.  Actually we ate breakfast first, then shopped.  Sharon bought a shell necklace, which we ended up giving to my mother.  I couldn't find any nice Hawaiian shirts, so I bought a couple posters, one being a photograph of a Polynesian woman on a beach and the other a photograph of a huge ship in the wake of a dolphin. 

We returned to the hotel, packed our bags, and checked out.  I bought one last Hawaiian shirt, which I gave to my dad, at the hotel gift shop.  It was about noon when we checked out, and our flight didn't leave Kauai until 6:30 p.m.  We spent the intervening hours by first visiting Wailua Falls and then hanging around the Kauai Hilton.  The falls, although not in the same league as Niagara Falls, were scenic, particularly so because of the rainbow created by the mist (see the pictures for a view).  The Kauai Hilton was expensive—something like $3.50 for a coke—but then we already knew that.  We sat at the bar by the pool writing out postcards, the only postcards we wrote during the entire vacation.  The Kauai Hilton gift shop had a green and black necklace that was attractive and reasonably priced; I didn't buy it and later regretted not doing so. 

From the Hilton we drove to airport, hoping to catch an earlier flight than our 6:30 "scheduled" one.  At the Aloha reservation desk, however, I was told that their computer didn't show our reservations, and on top of that all of their flights for the evening were completely booked and then some.  I asked how that could be, but the receptionist didn't have a clue nor did he seem very interested in deducing one.  He gave me a standby ticket and told me I should go see if we could get on the next flight.  We went to the gate and didn't even get close to getting on.  In fact, there were so many others ahead of us with standby tickets that the prospects of getting a flight to Honolulu in time to catch our 9:30 flight to the mainland looked dim.  That prospect didn't sit well with me, considering I had reserved the 6:30 flight long ago and had paid for it.  So I decided I was going to have a talk with Aloha about the matter, and if it took threats, I was going to use them.  Aloha gave me two tickets without a fight.  (I believe my reservation was probably lost when I purchased the package of six tickets and didn't lock in the flight out of Kauai, even though the man who sold the tickets assured me that I was still reserved on the flight.)

We got to Honolulu airport with a couple hours to kill before our 9:30 flight left so we browsed in the gift store and had a couple beers; also I loaded up on cigarettes.  And from there all the way to Philadelphia, it was just more plane rides and airports—seldom a joy and usually a real pain in the butt.  This time was no exception only longer.  Fortunately, I was able to sleep most of the way on both the Honolulu to L.A. flight and the L.A. to New York flights, and Sharon slept the first leg as well.  We read for most of our four-hour stopover in the Los Angeles airport.  The flight from L.A. to New York featured its own special brand of "can you believe this":  The flight gets ready to take off on time but then has to turn around because "some light came on," then gets bogged down in air traffic over New York, and finally to top things off, the pilot pulls up six inches short of the exit ramp and has to call in tow vehicle to pull the plane up to it.  All of these shenanigans made our stay in Kennedy airport a very short one. 

Gwen met us at Philadelphia International Airport, and that was the end of Hawaii 1991.

NOTES:

• We left Kauai Airport at 6:30 p.m. Hawaii time on July 14 and arrived in Philadelphia Int'l Airport at 9:00 p.m. EDST on July 15—all in the same year.

Hawaii 1991 - Rainbow in Wailua Falls, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - Wailua Falls, Kauai

Hawaii 1991- Sharon writing postcards on our last day in Kauai

Sometimes it shines and sometimes it rains; that's why they make umbrellas and shade 14 welder's glass.  Oddly enough, however, the highlights of this trip came as we waited for the show to begin and when we stopped for a repast in route to our destination.  The reason being, no guide book and no amount of planning can account for the people one meets along the way, and it is the people after all who brand the mind with its most enduring memories.

Hawaii without question is beautiful and exotic.  The land is diverse and spectacular; the history and culture fascinating; and the sunsets worth the price of admission alone.  The people, however, seemed to me, for the most part, to be rather unsubstantial.  Perhaps because they're caught in a trap—they want the tourist dollars and yen but not the tourist themselves, so they hawk their T-shirts and are bitter at those to whom they hawk and maybe at themselves for doing it.

Several people have asked me if I would ever go back to Hawaii.  The answer is, "certainly, any time."  Will I ever go back?  Who knows?

 LOG NOTE:

The log was created soon after the trip, although the precise date is not recalled.  There have been periodic revisions, mostly just to correct typos and other errors.  This online version with completed 8/13/2012.

Hawaii 1991 - A postcard home, Kauai

Hawaii 1991 - And a postcard to my parents