Ah yes, Wednesday, our fourth full day in Oahu, and we’ve decided to give snorkeling another shot. The weather seems to be reasonably sunny, so hopefully that’ll work out. Charlotte and I head downstairs and snag some eats at the continental breakfast the hotel provides, then come back up and pack up our things. No reason to shower, since we’re about to go dive into a bunch of salt water anyway. We get what is, for us, a reasonably early start: we’re on the road at about ten. All we have to do is fill up the car with gas, and hit route 72 – the coast highway – to get to Hanauma Bay. This proves more difficult than initially foreseen, as we can’t seem to find a gas station anywhere. We’re not THAT low, so I’m not worried about running out of gas, but I stupidly decided to go searching in the WRONG DIRECTION, so with every passing minute that we’re not finding gas, we’re also getting further away from our destination. Quality.
We do eventually find gas at what appears to be possibly the first gas station ever established on the Hawaiian islands. The pumps are made from bamboo and jungle vines. Ok, that’s not actually true, but you get the idea – it’s old. We fill up, get ourselves turned in the right direction, and head for one of the main highways: H1. It should be noted that from this point on in the trip we pass a gas station EVERY THREE BLOCKS. Anyway, H1 links up direct with 72, so it should be quick and easy, or so our thinking goes. What we don’t know is: we’re in the midst of a huge stretch where there are on-ramps for H1 West, but no on-ramps for H1 East (I confirmed this by checking on a map later – just to make sure I wasn’t crazy). So we travel along city streets, parallel to the H1, at twenty miles an hour and stopping constantly, instead of being able to travel on the H1 at fifty-five with no stops. Long story short, by the time we hit Hanauma Bay, we’re no longer early. Fortunately, at least this time it’s open!
The bay is located at the base of some cliffs, which gives us a nifty view as we descend (see pics at my Flickr page). The reef comes literally right up to the shore in places, and it kind of looks like giant underwater brain material. Appetizing! We buy tickets, buy Charlotte some coffee, and stand in line to watch a short video, which basically repeats “look but don’t touch” about seven thousand times, failing to note that not touching is very difficult when you have to walk on the reef to get into the water, as we’ll soon discover. We rent snorkel gear, including nifty snorkels with caps that help keep the water out, and head down the beach to where it’s less crowded. Just as we get there, cold rain starts falling on us, and we take momentary shelter under a tree before remembering that we’re here to jump into the cold, cold Pacific anyway, so why are we hiding from the rain?
We pull on our gear near the water’s edge and then clumsily wade out into the water in our flippers. We’re trying not to walk on the reef, but this is NOT possible, at this area of the beach, so as soon as it gets deep enough, we lie down in the water, hovering about six inches above the coral, and begin kicking toward a space where it gets deeper, and there’s a sandy bottom. Initial snorkeling is awkward — we’ve never really done it before, and it takes some practice. Charlotte’s “omg water in the pipe!” valve keeps accidentally closing, which blocks off the air intake entirely. I’ve got the snorkel working fine, but I’m having a hard time not getting kicked in the face by Charlotte’s fins, and I keep instinctively reaching down and touching the reef. Eventually we work out these kinks, and reach deeper water, which makes the snorkeling a lot more fun and a lot less frustrating. There are fish all around us, not to mention sea cucumbers, sea urchins, various types of soft and hard coral, and the occasional other snorkeler. In all it’s a pretty awesome experience, even if at one point the currents do shove me into the reef, where I scrape the living shit out of my arm. By the end of it, we’ve even got a pretty solid handle on the snorkeling part of snorkeling, and can concentrate mainly on the “looking at stuff” part. I’m super excited to do more of it on Maui!
We emerge from the cold waters into the slightly-less-cold, now-overcast day. Charlotte is shaking like some kind of crack addict and I end up giving her my towel and hugging her until she warms up (awwww!). Since it’s not really that nice of a day, there’s no real reason to lounge around the beach. We get changed, drop off our snorkel gear, and hike it back up the hillside to the car. Lunch in the Honolulu outskirts, at a famous Hawaiian hole-in-the-wall, is calling. We manage to find our way there quite easily, amazingly enough, and end up enjoying a good, cheap meal. Charlotte gets some kind of pulled-pork dish that’s similar to barbecue in texture. I get big lumps of pork wrapped up in some green leafy stuff and steamed, and it is extremely delicious. The meals come with rice, tomato-salmon tartar, some dried spicy meat, and a tasty coconut custard. We wolf down our food, and then head down the street to Starbucks (dessert), and Bailey’s — a shop which has over 15,000 Hawaiian shirts, in addition to a bunch of antique-y crap from the 50s (old Coke merch) through the 80s (giant stuffed E.T.). I find a tasteful shirt, if you can believe it — cream colored with a single vertical stripe of black flower-pattern running up the right side. Charlotte finds a beautiful black-and-turquoise reproduction of a vintage pattern, and a lovely vintage dress. Now fully prepared to get our Hawaii on, we return to the car and head for the hotel.
When we get back, there’s a manager’s reception happening, which means hanging out in the lobby drinking free booze and listening to a pretty talented guitar/bongo duo with a bunch of other people, most of whom are older than Moses. Still, it’s a good time, and we stick around for a bit before heading upstairs to relax for a while, get changed, and get prepped for the evening. Looking snazzy, we head out for a walk — we’re going to The House Without a Key – a bar at the Halekulani Hotel which was named after the first Charlie Chan novel. It’s a classy joint, and we end up on a sea-side patio, listening to a local Hawaiian band (guitar, ukulele, and upright bass — all three guys sing) who have invited a former Miss Hawaii up on stage with them to hula dance. She’s very graceful, the cocktails are very good, and Charlotte and I rapidly demolish the warm pupu platter (pupu = appetizers) that we order. Not to mention a good bit of the basket of potato chips they put on every table.
Done with our drinks, we wander through Waikiki, along the main commercial drag. We stop and I get a chocolate-and-hazelnut gelato, but our main goal at this point is finding somewhere that’s going to put some damn umbrellas all up in their drinks. Four days, several bars, and not a single umbrella! This is officially becoming a catastrophe. We see a third-floor bar that looks likely — Sr. Frog’s — but when we get up there, we realize that a) it’s nearly empty and b) they force all of their patrons to wear giant balloon sculptures on their heads. I’m not making this up. Charlotte and I back out of there and continue wandering – see, the thing is, the balloon sculptures would’ve been ok if the place had been full … but wearing crazy shit on your head in a near-empty room? That’s just downright humiliating!
Eventually we head back in the direction of the hotel. Charlotte’s feet are killing her, and we’ve decided that we’re either going to find a tiki bar on the way there, or we’re just going to buy booze at a local store and make our own damn umbrella drinks! Fortunately, fate intervenes in the form of Cheese Burger Waikiki, which looks plenty kitschy enough to have umbrella drinks. As it turns out, we’re right, and not only are we right, but I have the option of paying a bit more to get my Mai Tai in a GIANT PLASTIC PINEAPPLE! The bartender brings this majestic creation over, full of sweet liquor and bearing two slices of pineapple, a cherry, and a tiny umbrella. At last, Hawaii, you’ve delivered what I’ve been waiting for.
Charlotte’s still hungry so she orders a grilled-cheese sandwich with ham and pineapple. I’m good with my mai tai. We sip our drinks slowly, with relish. Charlotte’s food arrives, she eats, we make small talk with the bartender, and the night moves on. Eventually it’s time to head back to the hotel, only a two block walk. Wednesday is over, and it’s time to grab some sleep — tomorrow, the North Shore beckons to us!
