Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Blustery Day at Keaua Beach

One of the best kept secrets on Oahu is the Leeward Side.  Numerous articles have told me to stay away from Waianae.  And true, they do have more than their fair share of economic and social problems, but the people I have met over there are brimming with aloha.  Strangers smile at me and children call me "auntie".  And the beaches...ah, the beaches.

This past weekend, it was storming on the North Shore so we decided to go to the Leeward Side--the windless side, the desert side, the side that didn't get the memo on this particular day. 




Stiff winds tore over the Waianae (why-a-nigh) Mountains.  They blew the tops off the 7-10 ft seas and thrashed the coconut palms.









The Waianae Mountains were formed from a single shield volcano some 3.9 million years ago.  The west side (as seen here) has suffered much erosion, creating numerous landslide slopes and caves.








Just north of Waianae, the gusts of wind sandblasted those of us on the Keaua Beach.  It was not a good day for children to be in the water.







Behind that tumultuous surf is a cadre of body-boarders.  They took turns riding the beast before getting pummeled.  This particular wave had just swallowed one brave soul.









After he fought free from the current, the body-boarder rested on the beach.









A surfer collects his broken board and goes home.

Ka'ena (ka-eh-na) Point is in the background.










When the waves got too rough to be near the shore's edge, we drove farther north to Ka'ena Point.

Here the waves pounded the ancient lava ledge, forcing water up blow-holes.









Not wanting to end up like the guy on the sign, we stayed clear of the edge.




 



They say after every storm is a rainbow.  This photo proves that sometimes rainbows occur in the middle of the storm.

A life lesson, perhaps?





Friday, November 8, 2013

Magnificent Manoa Falls Trail


  Manoa Falls is an easy hike surrounded by a lush jungle.  The well-maintained trail is only .8 miles and goes up a gentle 800 ft. slope. 

There was only one spot where the trail got muddy and slippery, possibly making it tricky for people with walking issues.  But even if you don't make it all the way to the falls, it is worth the effort.





 

The trail winds through a vine-draped forest to the to eucalyptus trees.  Passing the eucalyptus, we found ferns that were well over 15 ft. tall.






About half-way up the path, a ficus benghalensis arches over the trail, creating a perfect place for a photo-op.



The bamboo grove was cool and quiet.
 
When the wind blew, the trees tapped each other in beautiful acoustic harmony.



The trail ends at the waterfall.  At this time of the year, the flow was rather small, but still pretty.
 
All the side trails in this area have been closed due to landslides.  And the pool at the bottom, though very picturesque, is cordoned off and purported to have the leptospirosis bacteria which can can cause liver and kidney disease.

Needless to say, we stayed out of the water.








On the way back down the trail, there was breath-taking view of Manoa Valley.  This view alone was worth the hike.

Bonus:  Buy the shave ice at the snack shack next to the parking lot.  Arguably, it's one of the best shave ices on the island. 




Friday, November 1, 2013

Sublime Submersion


What's that bubbling out of the waters of Honolulu?

 


It's the Atlantis!  A passenger submarine that runs out of Honolulu.  Now, I have often thought about going into a submarine, but never seriously.  As a surprise, my husband booked us a trip.  Even on the boat ride out, I was thinking, "Yes, well, this will be pleasant."  But as soon as I saw the submarine magically emerging from the ocean, I got little-kid clapping-my-hands-together, hopping-up-and-down excited.  Michael said I got all sparkly-eyed.
  

I got lucky and sat up front next to the tour guide and captain.  Both were very interesting men and told some great, informational stories.  By the way, the captain's chair is actually a very comfortable office chair bolted to the floor.


 In most of my photos, everything appears blue because by 16 ft below surface level, the "warm" colors such as red, orange, and yellow begin to fade.  Contrast and image sharpness also becomes a problem the further we go down.

Water, it seems, is 800 times more dense than air.  By the time we reached 98 ft, all colors except blue will be blocked. 

 This is the view out of my porthole as our shuttle boat drives away.

Waikiki has such white sand that even when we reached our lowest depth of 120 ft, the sunlight was still reflected off the bottom.  All my photos have natural lighting with no flash.
 

Along the trail, were two airplanes and a fishing boat that were put there as artificial reefs for the fish.  At this depth, there were a LOT of big fish.

 A school of triggerfish near a submerged fishing boat.


A green turtle (honu) hanging our on the boat's wheelhouse.





A very big fish hiding out under an airplane wing.  I'm glad Iwas INSIDE the submarine.  Though I am looking a little smurfy.


Rising bubbles mean the end to an absolutely unique experience.  It was not on my bucket list, but, boy!, am I glad I did it.  In fact, two weeks later, I sent my children to ride on the Atlantis.  They had a great time, too.

It was definitely a two thumbs-up experience.




Wednesday, July 31, 2013

The Hill of Sacrifice


Puowaina (pron: poo oh why nah) is the Hawaiian word for The Hill of Sacrifice.  We now call it Punchbowl Cemetery, the National Cemetary of the Pacific.

At the end of the main avenue and half-way up the crater wall, stands a statue of Columbia, the female personification of the United States.


The trees lining the stairway are all trimmed into circles, symbolizing unity and infinity.

Giant wall-sized mosaics depict the different phases of WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.

The red lines are the Japanese attacks and the blue lines show the Allies counter-attack.



Each of the mosaics are done with great detail.  In addition to the information regarding the battles, vignettes pepper the walls.

It's absolutely amazing what a person can do with tiny  bits of colored glass.







 Soapbox Time:  THIS is what the Endowment for the Arts should be supporting.  Just look at the technique and detail!  The photos don't do it justice.



 Behind the Columbia statue in the center of the memorial's semi-circle is this tiny little chapel.  The wall behind the cross is made of pink marble, the floor is green granite, and the white walls are all coral.

To the left of the cross is the Jewish Star of David and to the right is the Buddhist Wheel of Righteousness.




On either side of the chapel are these beautiful arches.  The ironwork is open with colored bits of molded glass.

There is always a pleasant breeze in this peaceful chapel. 



Here is one of the glass casings up close.

From the overlook at the top of Punchbowl Crater, you can see the city of Honolulu laid out like a topographical map.

In the distance is Diamond Head Crater.

A container ship headed towards Honolulu Harbor.

I like how the horizon lined up the top of one of the buildings and how the ship kind of floats on top of one of the highrises.


Here's Honolulu looking to the left.  The square building in the middle is the state capital.  It's surrounded by a "moat" and the center roof is opened to the sky.

Before Punchbowl was turned into a national cemetery in 1948, native Hawaiians lived here.  Due to the shape, it naturally collects water on this dry side of the island.

Purportedly, the flat rock to the left with the tree trying to grow over it is the site of human sacrifices to the gods.  The royalty, called the ali'i (a lee ee) were also secretly buried here.  The bones were moved when it became a US national cemetery.


Thursday, July 25, 2013

SURFING USA

If you were going to learn to surf, where would you do it?  Well, Hawaii, of course.  But where in Hawaii?  (Cue:  Hawaii 5-0 music) 

WAIKIKI!!

(This is on a waveless day.  See where the bay comes all the way in.  That's where I learned to surf.)



Our instructor, Jenny from Waikiki Surfing School, showed the children how to "pop"up from laying position to standing position and then she looked at me.

"I don't 'pop'."  I told her.

"No problem.  Let me show you the granny way."

Yes.  At 46, I am learning to do things "the granny way."  O Humility, thy name is Jan.

The "granny way" included lying on your stomach, getting to your knees.  If you feel good about things, then you put your feet where your knees are and, buttocks out, you stand.  It wasn't pretty, but I stood up on the board twice.  Of course, I rode on my knees many times, and even though it was the granny way, I felt pretty and graceful and ready for some Beach Blanket Bingo.


My favorite time was when I was just lying out there, waiting for my turn when a wave came up, grabbed me, and whisked me all the way to the shore.  The water was crowded so I had to "slalom" my way to the beach.  Totally thrilling!


 I also learned how to do the yoga position called The Cobra.  When you are paddling out and a wave is coming towards you, you grab the board at chest height and push your torso up.  This balances the board so you don't get creamed by the wave.  It totally works!  (Of course, my poor nearly atrophied granny muscles protested for the next several days, but it was completely worth it.) 

Another time, I was paddling back out when I saw this huge wave coming towards me.  It was enormous!  I remembered Jenny had said the waves were four feet, but this was no four foot wave.  Then I remembered the Hawaiians measure the back of the wave which is about half of the front face.  So this eight foot wave was coming towards me, beginning to crest a little at the top, I quickly "cobra'ed" and--swoosh!--I floated right over it!  Oh, the giddiness of it all!!

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the Eddie Aikau Competition with its 20 foot (read: 40 foot face) wave, but I still felt like a world-class champion.

 
(Not me, but how I felt.)

Monday, July 22, 2013

When a police helicopter came to my elementary school for a special presentation, I remembered being utterly enthralled.  It lifted straight up from the playground, then zoomed sidewise and backwards, spun around, danced on the air, and finally landed delicately on the grassy field.

I was hooked.  Since then, one of my great dreams have been to ride in a helicopter.

Today, I danced on the air.  We took off from Turtle Bay Resort in a Magnum PI helicopter, flew over the northeastern part of the island to Sacred Falls, the largest waterfall on Oahu.  Next thing I knew, we were flying over the Ko'Olina Mountains.  Tell me:  Do I look happy?  What you don't see is the "inside me" screaming with joy.






Kahuku Shrimp Farm






 




 Sacred Falls has an 80 ft drop.   





The top of the Ko'Olina Mountains





Arial of Waimea Bay