Family

Fire on the Hill

What we assumed would be another day at the beach turned out to be the exact opposite. The tropical sun hung high in the azure sky as though it were a yellow yoyo suspended from a length of string connecting it to a fluffy white cloud. From our vantage point on the cliff, Kalapaki Bay offered its unbeatable ocean view. On the walk to the beach, just beyond the Pali Kai security gate closure, Gerald suddenly glanced backward, as if on instinct. Thick plumes of gray-blue smoke appeared to be pouring from the row of seaside cliff houses into the bay directly beyond the Lincoln condo. In an instant, we pivoted on our heels and headed in the direction of the smoke. As far as we knew, some of the cliff houses were not yet occupied for the winter months. This caused concern in our eyes…and dread as to what lie ahead. Passing each place brought relief, followed by curiosity. What was on fire? And where were the fire trucks? Finally, at the end of the road, where the cliff sharply drops off to a lighthouse beacon surrounded by jutting black lava mounds, the plumes of heavy smoke thickened like fog. Down the sandy path banked by tall dry grasses, past the 6th hole of the resort golf course, the sea turned a lush green. Unfortunately today, the sky appeared a hypnotic smoky grey color. As if from the depths of Hell, suffocating smoke plumes intensified like smog. Suddenly, the bleating, looping wail of sirens signaled help was on the way. A city fire truck followed by a reserve water tanker dispensed a crew of experienced firefighters to access the situation and quickly get it under control. In a marginal amount of time they had it sized up, contained, and extinguished. The investigating officer took it from there. 

Hemingway Sighting? 

“You can write any time 

people will leave you alone 

and not interrupt you. 

Or rather, you can if you will be 

ruthless enough about it. 

But the best writing is certainly 

when you are in love.” 

~ Ernest Hemingway 

Movie on the Lawn Under the Stars

Grab a lawn chair, cuddle under a beach towel, or dip your toes in the sand….as long as you stick around when the sun begins to set below the Kauaiian sunset. The Marriott Beach Resort at Kalapaki Bay offers ocean-front seating for an outdoor movie presentation that is sure to entertain. Watch the original 1961 release of “Blue Hawaii”, starring the heartthrob, Elvis Presley and sexy Joan Blackman. You’ll, no doubt, recognize the Coco Palms Resort Hotel on the east coast of Kauai as well as Lydgate Park. Absorb the romance, snap your fingers to the music, clap with the sounds of the waves on the seashore. This is what vacations are made of. Aloha, Kauai!

Millennial Pool Chair Thieves Lack Respect 

Me, me, me. I want it, I deserve it, I’m gonna take it. Everyone who travels to a 5-star beach resort understands about pool etiquette. Senior citizens get it. Adolescent boys are taught it. Generation Xers understand it. Respect, Regard, Refrain. Pool security guards expect it…because there are distinct clues. Those who take the time to visit the staff at the Towel Hut, receive the day’s color-coded wristbands, arrange two chaise loungers under a patio umbrella, and neatly fold the beach towels so they meet in the middle, are clear indications that “These chairs are taken”. In many resorts, the Pool Manager even goes so far as to lay out towel-covered cushions over a chaise lounger placed in the shade of a patio umbrella hours before an elderly guest needs it. So why is it that a couple of Millennials have the audacity to scoop the beach towels off the chairs of their choosing, toss them in a heap, and plop themselves down as if “Entitlement” is their middle name? Where do they think they are? On an All-Inclusive Party Boat where chair hoggers are known to greedily grab more chairs than they need? News flash: the ones who placed the towels there initially ARE going to show up. And they will not be pleased with your rude actions! So don’t pretend you’re asleep or cast your eyes away as if you’ve done nothing wrong. Grow up, learn how to respect others, and learn about etiquette. Because in the end, you “reap what you sow, more than you sow, later than you sow.” Do the right thing. Then you won’t have to spend the remainder of your vacation looking over your shoulder. Rant over!

This is Where it All Began for the Old Kōloa Sugar Mill

Take a step back in time, circa 1800, where a lush and fertile land along the southern coast of Kauai housed a sugar plantation that sustained an entire island. The Old Kōloa Sugar Mill was born. King Kamehameha III reigned supremely when Christian missionaries came with a message to share. Because the Native Hawaiians preferred fishing and living off the land, it was necessary to maintain a sustainable workforce. Thus, Chinese flocked to Kauai to work, in addition to Japanese, Koreans, and Filipinos. The Old Sugar Mill of Kōloa quickly relocated from the town to 980 acres near a waterfall and seaport. At the current site it became a large-scale industry, producing 225,000 tons of sugar in 1898. “This is where it all began” is splashed across the rusted and decaying abandoned storage bin as a reminder that everything must come to an end. Now what stands is a shell of deteriorating remains. Still, 161 years is a good run. 

Who Will Stop the Rain?

Sometimes it’s nice to sit on the edge of a party. Minutes after we settled in, a couple of mobile restaurants pulled up to the curb. Food Truck Stop Thursday at Kauai Beer Company typically offers two choices of food venues in lieu of their regular menu. George of da Jungle versus Scorpacciata are the featured chefs of the night. Street musician, guitarist Lara Brady of Epiphany, sat poised a few feet away from the wrought iron patio crooning tunes from 40 years ago when she was still a teenager. “Do you mind if I take your photo?”, I inquired. “Sure”, she replied. “It’s like a Stradivarious”, she went on, “the style of wood in this guitar. You can’t find it anymore.” I dropped a buck into her guitar case. Her toothless grin smiled in appreciation. About that time, the sky opened up and spilled forth a deluge of rain. Everyone scrambled for cover under the sidewalk awnings and sipped on a flight of eight specialty brews until it blew through. As suddenly as it began, the downpour ceased like the man upstairs turned the water spigot off. Larry, the event coordinator, looked up to the heavens, spread his arms wide, and grinned from ear to ear. “Life is good,” he exclaimed. “Let’s get this party started!” Grills fired up, high intensity pizza ovens were set to 800°, and the lines began to form placing food orders for the duration. The place was abuzz with noise and clatter. As fast as the servers could deliver, piping hot menu items were exchanged for table numbers while conversations lingered and new friendships were being made. 

Irresistible Draw of Boating

Nawiliwili Small Boat Harbor is Oasis for Ocean Recreation! Whether you are a boat owner, or simply admire the energy of being a free-spirit, visit any marina for an enthusiastic encounter. Blue sky, aqua-green water are a winning combination in my book. “hark, now hear the sailors cry,

smell the sea, and feel the sky 

let your soul and spirit fly, 

into the mystic…” 

~ Van Morrison

I stumbled upon this vision of adventure one balmy afternoon. If you have a boat and you need a place to rest, look no further than Kalapaki Bay. The berths are spacious, with 5 multi-hull moorings, a landing pier, loading dock, fish hoist, pump-out station, and adequate vessel wash down area make it appealing. Sightseeing and fishing are purely optional. A sailing instructor is available, if you feel the need for affirmation and helpful tips upon the open waters. Safety is Number One, after all. Do I sail or own a boat, you wonder? Not at all. But I do appreciate the irresistible draw of boating. Who wouldn’t?

Grains of Sand

“Under Construction” read the message on the crumbling sand sculpture just beyond the grassy knoll. Only a few days ago, the mountain of sand was as solid as a rock, resembling a holiday billboard wishing all a “Mele Kalikimaka”, or “Merry Christmas”, in Hawaiian. The sandman artist returns every year, about this time, spending hours of daylight creating unique sand sculptures for all to admire. Tirelessly he hauls water in gallon buckets from the seashore and packs sand in a special technique that cements his efforts for a day or two. Many observers stop by to take family photos. Others chit-chat in friendly conversation. Still, eventually, the sculpture becomes irresistible to toddlers and young children who see it as a climbing apparatus found on the neighborhood playground. Being “King of the Mountain” is much more interesting to their immature minds than the artistic expression of an old soul.