This morning I decided to do some swimming/snorkeling in Honolua bay, and then meet Alberto for lunch. My plans were thwarted though by my own confusion and not reading my guidebook very well. After dropping Alberto off at work I headed to the spot that the book states was Honolua Bay. However, I was sure I'd got it wrong. My trek took me through an area clearly marked private property, through what seemed more likely to be the backwoods of Louisiana than the coast of Maui. In the clearing lay a very small area filled with rock and very gritty black sand. There was no beach to be seen. A couple of people were clumsily trying to wade into the water with their snorkeling gear, and a few elderly women sat perched on large rocks looking a little miserable. How could this be the legendary Honolua Bay so many have spoken of? A quick call to Alberto confirmed that maybe I was in the wrong spot. So, I packed up my gear and went in search of what my true destination was.I never found it, but I did end up at the nice area of Slaughterhouse Beach just up the road. This beach was very sandy and cute. There is a little cave off to the left of the beach that I'd like to explore with Alberto. However---it's way too windy to swim. I tanned for a few minutes, watching the sand quickly fill up with other folks and decided to keep moving.
Next stop – DT Fleming Beach, which is a very well-established and large beach. I decided, though, to not stop here. My book says it's a favorite beach for locals, and I am a little intimidated by them. Alberto's admonition keeps ringing in my head – "No Hawaiian, No Aloha". He told me stories about how ugly locals can be to tourists, including burnt out cards along the Road to Hana. I don't mind exploring more with B, but not while I'm alone.
So, I turned around and kept right on driving down the road. I decided, since my morning was dwindling and I had to meet B for lunch, that I'd head back to Oneloa beach in Kapalua. Surely, with it being much earlier in the day, the wind would be considerably less. I was looking forward to an opportunity for a quiet sunning session on a quiet beach. Plus, I was dying to get back in the water after yesterday's 'zen' moment. This also gave me the chance to just pop over and grab B when it was time for lunch since it was right down the road.
The beach was still windy. L Not as bad as yesterday, but a bit uncomfortable. I was determined though to stake a claim and get in the water so I laid my stuff out and headed in. All I wanted was to swim out into the aqua blue water….but when I got to the water's edge I noticed something I had not seen before – rocks! Lots of them! I was so disappointed. There was still water and sand but there were so many rocks – large and wide ones – that I knew I'd stub my toes or scrape my legs if I tried to wade out into the surf with them just below. FOILED. So I sat at the water's edge and let the water lap at my toes.
Lunchtime arrived and I went to pick Alberto up. We went to a little store/market/lunch counter called Honolua Market with one of his co-workers Alonzo. Alonzo was picking lunch up for the rest of the grup. We sat at a small picnic table outside and I got to hear stories for the next 45 minutes of things the guys had done during their stay on the island. After dropping the guys back at the house, it was time for my afternoon adventure!
I decided that since I probably wasn't going to the Iao Valley (just not enough time), I should do as much of the drive around the top of the island as I could today. What a great idea that turned out to be! The highway along the coast is filled with the most breathtaking scenery! There were lots of hairpin turns, just like at Haleakala and some of them had signs advising you to blow your horn so cars coming from the opposite direction would know you are there. In some area the road is, to me, a little too close to the edge. It was beautiful – boundless green above and all around and endless azure down below. I couldn't help but film the landscape as I drove.
I had the unlucky misfortune, though, to be doing this as I passed a little Hawaiian village in one of the valley. Littered also with burnt out wreckage at the entrance to the little village, a man playing a ukulele while sitting on a sofa on the side of the highway decided to give a nice Hawaiian 'fuck you' and flipped me off. That's just ignorant.
My guidebook made mention of an interesting sight on the coast that involved a little bit of a hike, so I was curious for the adventure. At mile 38 I parked my car and started the journey to the Nakalele blowhole.
What an interesting trip that was. You start off by descending a steep rocky path alongside an old lighthouse overlooking the ocean. Once at the bottom, you have to hide east for about 15 minutes. On this hike, you walk through terrain that you'd swear must have come from another planet. The constant crash of the water and the sea salt that flies everywhere has slowly turned the landscape into a beautiful mess of rocks with holes eaten through them and incredibly sharp edges. Some of the rocks look like giant loofah sponges. Others seem to be teetering on nothing as the bases have eroded into nothing. There are massive brick red striations that course across the rock walls and the ground is actually spongy beneath your feet!
About ½ way there I encountered a shelf below that is almost constant being battered by the surf. There was a blowhole in the corner of the shelf which made a lot of noise buy only small eruptions of water. This was the little blowhole but not the Nakalele blowhole of my destination. So I kept walking and two alien landscapes later, I found it.
Down below, another shelf about 3 times as big as the one I'd just seen lay there battered by the elements. The wind was high and surf was so violent that it sometimes crashed higher than the rock walls of the shoreline, leaving me and the other hikers that had found this spot spattered with sea water.
Just to the left of the middle of the shelf lay a gaping hole, about 3 feet in diameter. It reminded me of the jaws of sarlacc though not as wide (any Star Wars fans recognize the reference?). As the waves would crash against the wall, the ole would alternately spit some water out or such the water deeper down into the hole. This seemed like the biggest vacuum cleaner I'd ever seen! Then with no warning at all, the hole let out a gigantic plume of water, at least 20 feet high! The wind carried the water inland and soaked us all on the right side of the blowhole. It was fantastic! I couldn't take my eyes off it, mesmerized by the way the water was so violently being sucked in, just to erupt more violently afterward.
My book said that you can never tell when a blowhole is going to erupt. The most monstrous waves could produce nothing, while the smallest waves could trigger a massive spume of water. It was great! I walked around to the front and just inland from the blowhole, sure I'd stay dry here, and set my videocamera on the scene. Sure enough, when I was least expecting it, a huge blast of water erupted and came right at me, soaking both me and the video camera. It was time to go!
After I got to the car I went to go find one more spot that the book described called the Olivine pools. It was supposed to be a calm pool of water amidst the ocean and seemed like a perfect place to relax after my hike. I pulled over at a couple of different spots, including a dirt road where I quickly discovered my little Chevy Cobalt was tough enough to go offroading! However, despite searching for it I was unable to locate the right spot before it was time to meet Alberto after work. Since he is sure he'll be done with work tomorrow, we'll be able to spend Friday together before going home. I'll postpone the search for the Olivine Pools till then; maybe we'll find them together.
Back at the condo that night, we watched the sun sink behind the horizon from the comfort of our lanai: 
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