HAWAI'I ISLAND - THURSDAY January 14

Remember Spam?  It was — and still is — big in Hawaii.  To honor this gustatory tradition, we have eggs and Spam as the breakfast “special.”  I could have substituted bacon or sausage or oatmeal but I remember Spam from the dark ages so I give it a try.  It’s incredibly salty; I can finish one piece.  

[In a gift shop I saw a box of Spam-Flavored Macadamia Nuts.  I would have bought it to share as a joke at a Tuesday meeting but it cost $11.]

 



I had signed up to kayak this morning but too few people signed up for my time slot.  I could kayak at another time but decide to go on a sight-seeing trip along the coast in a skiff.   I like kayaking but love learning new things.  

We travel along the southern coast of the Big Island of Hawaii.  It’s very rocky with small cliffs of old lava.  Lots of orange, indicating iron.  “The island is rusting.”  It’s all basalt.  Ferns, which break lava into soil, don’t grow quickly here because this part of the island gets very little rain. 

We see lava tubes which look like caves.  

As lava comes out initially, the top part cools first while hot lava continues to flow under it.  Then the hot lava sinks, creating a long somewhat unstable chamber.  The tube becomes visible when a chunk of land falls into the sea and exposes it. 

Very pointy lava rocks on the surface are hard to walk on and tough on car tires.  I had seen those pointy lava rocks close up in Iceland.  Our Icelandic guide told us that hiking was very challenging there.  Unless there is frequent rain it takes a good long time for lava to become soil — whether in Hawaii or Iceland.

 
Our zippy skiff goes through a tunnel where we see high surf crashing against dark lava rocks.  


The roof of the "tunnel" has interesting shapes and colors.






 

 Terraces we see above us are switch-backs created for a real road that will be easier to drive on, but construction is slow.  More eroded land could fall into the sea and even more lava could erupt, so road-building is a chancy business.  As is house-building.   The skilled driver of our skiff used to live in this very area for years.  She tells us that even though there is no house insurance against volcanoes, homes are not that cheap. 

We return one hour before lunch.  I can jump into the water to swim or kayak, but I remember my friends’ warnings to rest now and then, which is what I do.  Thanks, especially, to Hoi Pang.  I know it serves my brain to sit quietly in my cabin.  Sometimes it is hard to choose rest over yet another exciting experience.   But I expect to snorkel tonight -- with manta rays — so it won’t hurt to lounge.

Troy, the yacht’s engineer, gives us a tour of his bailiwick:  the engine room.   It is very hot and noisy so he gives us ear plugs.  Five massive engines plus enough diesel to sail from Seattle to Hawaii and back.  The yacht needs to create electricity, using quite a lot for air conditioning.   It can hold only 3 1/2 days’ worth of water which is loaded in the home port; so there are two machines on board to make fresh water from the sea.  It’s very tasty; we drink lots of it.

 I’m writing in my cabin when there’s word to come to the starboard side (I’m the star (remember?) so it’s on my side of the boat.)  Right outside my cabin door -- I mean RIGHT THERE! -- is a pod of spotted dolphins, racing our boat, leaping in the air.

Incredibly thrilling and miraculous.  Seeing movies of them or watching them in a large aquarium is nothing like seeing these dolphins speeding like torpedoes 15 feet away. 

After dinner we hear from Dana about manta rays and snorkeling in the dark with them.  She’s from the company which will take us out and supervise our experience, including our safety.  These huge animals with the great big scooper mouths are attracted to light because plankton gather there.   Plankton are tiny creatures, the total food of these manta rays.  Divers with lights will form a circle on the ocean bottom, about 50 feet down, like an underwater campfire.   

Snorkelers will float on the surface, holding onto surf boards with holes for more lights. Except for those lights, it will be very dark. 

We’ll hold onto a rope which goes around the board and be somewhat buoyed by the wet suit.   Noodles under our legs will hold them up in a floating position.  Six snorkelers will hold onto one surf board.  Other boats will be sending their snorkelers out as well so it will be fairly crowded.

I was looking forward to going until Dana says it was very rough out there today.   High wind, high seas.  “Not for weak swimmers,” she says.  I am not only a weak swimmer, but I can be a scared swimmer if I need to actually swim somewhere.  I also dread having to be looked-after by anyone.  I cross my name off the list.  

Lots of trustworthy people, including Theresa, say I should go.  They’ve seen me snorkel twice and feel I’m ready for it.  Theresa says, “Dana’s just very cautious because a surfboard got away from them this afternoon.”  Jeez.  “You’ll regret it tomorrow,” some of the young crew say.  

I’m feeling sort of wimpy and teary-eyed.  It’s funny cause I have no fear of the dark nor of the rocky skiff.  But I just have a feeling this particular event this particular night is not for me.  

What the heck is causing the teariness?  Is it because I suddenly feel old?  Not up to something?  Or is my brain damage accentuating my feelings?  I set up this marvelous trip to celebrate becoming three-fourths of a century old while still feeling strong and mobile.  Just how strong and mobile am I?  

Fortunately there are six others who also decide not to go for whatever reason.  I and a few others wait inside while the others (the brave ones?) put on their wet suits.  I fight against my urge to hide and go out on deck with my camera. 

As the second skiff departs I wave goodbye from the rail, shouting, “See you later.”  Karl, standing next to me, shouts “Maybe...”  His wife and I groan at his quirky sense of humor.  I get a cup of peppermint tea and retire to my room to write.   

I learn another couple did not go and tell Karl.  “Yes, why should wisdom be restricted?” he says. 

  We welcome the crowd when they return, thrilled with the drama of the huge manta rays.  Two got seasick because of the rocking, dark sea but everyone is very positive, especially Paula, who had her first snorkeling experience this week.  After dessert we head for bed.