Good Bye Kauai

Note: I've tried and tried but can't find an easy way to caption the pictures. I hope the text will be self-explanatory. Post written earlier today follows:

Well, I’m a little annoyed because I just wrote about a page of this journal and when I tried to save it, I lost the whole thing. No point reconstructing—I’ll just start over. The purpose of this entry is to relate our amazing day yesterday, but first here is how we got to where we are now.

We are about three hours into a 9 ½ hour Japanese Airlines flight enroute to Osaka, Japan where we will transfer to the 4 ½ hour flight to Hong Kong. A killer day, but the anticipation of what lies ahead makes it worth it. Our first flight this morning, from Kauai to Honolulu, was a mere 20-25 minutes, but then we had a 3 hour layover--made bearable, however, by the excellent people watching. Everyone in the terminal was Japanese! There were some elaborate bowing ceremonies among the various strata of traditional older folks, in counterpoint to the hipster young ones in every form of designer clothing who made us feel dowdy and square by comparison. Now we are on the flight, having just finished a lovely (by airlines standards) lunch of Japanese food most of which was unidentifiable—and we have a menu in front of us! Our food rule for the trip—no dogs, frogs, or insects—was not breached however, and we both ate every bite. Now, about our second and final day in Kauai.

Yesterday we left early for the Waimei Canyon, called the Grand Canyon of the Pacific, and while I’ve seen one or two other better canyons (not including the Grand—haven’t been there yet), it truly is an incredible sight considering it is on a small island in the middle of the ocean. The canyon itself is 3,500 feet deep and the colors are other-worldly. The day was a bit cloudy so the pictures do not do justice to the truly beautiful range of color, the shadows cast by the craggy rocks and the truly majestic display of God’s beautiful earth.

To get to the canyon, you drive inland from the coast about ten miles up a winding road that is reminiscent of so many Colorado roads we know and love. First, though, we stopped at Poiku Beach and the nearby Spouting Horn, a blow hole which spurts high or low according to the height of the waves. We saw similar blow holes in the Caymans years ago. We had a 2:30 appointment for our Holoholo Charter Whale Watching Sunset Cruise (highly recommended by Eric and Jenn and reserved well in advance), so by the time we drove the length of the canyon and back and had a shrimp taco at a shrimp shack along the road, we were a little pressed for time.

Made it though and went to check in with printed reservation and proof of payment in hand. Puzzled look, clerk leaves desk, much conferring with superiors, and the upshot was that there on the printed reservation plain as could be was Tuesday, March 6, the previous day. We shan’t go into whose fault it was, suffice to say I’d love to blame it on them but in all honesty… Anyway, I begged and pleaded (remember that old psychology axiom that something becomes even more desirable when you think you can’t have it) but while sympathetic they said they were at capacity and the only thing we could do is hang out until the time came and maybe there would be a couple of no-shows. I was desolate, knowing tomorrow would be too late, but Tom said who knows, we were no-shows yesterday and someone may have reaped the benefits then, so why not today? We wait, anticipation mounting, me the glass half empty type, Tom the glass half full, when at the last minue in comes the final couple to check in. The woman was, well, having trouble walking having just had hip surgery, and after much discussion they were rejected on the grounds that they had checked in too late and told to come back on Friday when they could be escorted to the boat and pre-boarded! So we got on, me now feeling guilty for having taken the space of that poor woman, although I’m telling you a person had to be pretty able-bodied to negotiate the bumps and bounces of the pontoon boat we were on.

So God works his magic in mysterious ways, and there we were on Cap’n Ted’s pontoon boat with about 40 other lovely people going hell bent for election toward the Na pali Coast, wine and beer included and flowing freely and what they called heavy snacks turning out to be a full meal with Caesar Salad, wraps, quiche, fruit and veggies, and more. But the best part was the whales, the dolphins and the coast, and the running commentary by Cap’n Ted himself—a veritable encyclopedia of information he was. We saw many whales, none too close, but close enough to see them jump in the air, and do their little dance and undulate above and below the surface and spout their sprays into the clouds. For those of you who read Kelly’s brother’s essay about his moment with the whale at sea in Hawaii, it was a similar feeling although clearly not as personal as his must have been. The sheer size of the creatures— an average adult hump-backed whale is about 95,000 pounds and the length of about 15-18 cars—is enough to inspire awe. And early in the cruise our boat was literally surrounded by a school of dolphins swimming in formation, doing quadruple back flips, and smiling at us with their friendly faces—this lasted at least twenty minutes until they tired of being amused by us and swam away.

But truly the most awe-inspiring, or at least every bit as much so as the whales, was the northeast coast of Kauai as seen from the sea. The water is blue as blue can be and so clear you can see the bottom, and the coast is a series of jagged cliffs made of volcanic rock and deep caves and swirling inlets that rival any scenery we’ve seen. The layers upon layers of craggy tors each one paler and mistier than the one in front, looks like I imagine the karsts in China will look when we get there. Above are a few pictures of the coast but again, due to cloudiness and the amateur taking them, they don’t do justice to the reality. Ted pointed out one cliff and said that if we put the Empire State Building on the beach in front of it, it would only come up half way. And don’t forget, Kauai is only 35 miles wide. With all of the volcanic eruptions over thousands of years you’d think it would have been blown to kingdom come by now instead of transformed into paradise.

We loved Hawaii and now we know why so many of our family and friends go so often. And so until our next trip, Aloha, blue Hawaii. Next stop ASIA!!!!!