Maui Diary 11 - Aloha Oe

On Maui we stayed in the town of Kihei, where 50% of the permanent residents of the island live. This plebian environment was more our style than the resort life we observed just south on the beaches next to Wailea's villas and grand hotels. Just strolling on the beach path that winds past their perfectly groomed and gorgeous grounds, I became a little self-conscious about my commoner's clothes every time we passed the hotel guests.

Staying in a condo rather than a hotel also made for a relaxing and homey existence, at least for people like us who like to set up housekeeping for ourselves and actually prefer to eat breakfast "at home." We bought sweet Maui Gold pineapples at Safeway and ate of them in the morning while I was still in my nightgown. Each of us had one day that we were under the weather, and we could just laze about our apartment, and grill steaks or fish for dinner on the barbeque outside.

Our place had a view right out to the beach, and one evening I sat in front of this scene and counted 27 palm trees within my range of vision. The stars came out and were as bright as in the high mountains; I couldn't get over how well I could see without my glasses Orion's belt and even his sword.

I wouldn't complain if someone gave me a week at a resort and I had to eat at its restaurants, but as long as I'm paying, I'd just as soon stay in a less expensive condo like the one we were blessed with and enjoy the food at the many places the locals also enjoy.

The Coconuts Cafe with its deservedly famous fish tacos is a fine example. The cole slaw, normally in the tortilla but which I had on the side, was made with a refreshing coconut milk dressing that I'd love to try replicating.

Mr. Glad has for some time enjoyed Hawaiian guitar music, so we had looked forward to being in Hawaii and hearing some good examples. One evening we went out for some live sounds that turned out to be not that great and not traditional, but the luau on our last night was fulfilling and very fun in its historically accurate dancing and music.

Over the radio in our rental car we heard a new-to-us contemporary Hawaiian sound that was maybe not traditional musically, but in the easy-listening messages conveyed it was all about loving the motherland and listening to the forefathers who will teach you how to be honorable Hawaiians.

Shirt Mr. Glad gave me for my birthday

This harkening to cultural roots and the ancestors generates a desire on the part of parents to put their young children into classes where they will learn the Hawaiian tongue. It seems that though Hawaiian names and phrases are floating through the balmy air everywhere, currently very few people actually have any real ability to communicate in that language. I wonder if that will change, or if the children force-fed this artifact will respond with disdain as have the Irish I know who were made to study Gaelic in school.

Besides the reverence for the land and the history, we noticed in the popular and melodic songs we heard a phrase repeated in nearly every one: ka puana. Eventually we were able to investigate and discover that this means something like "It's fun to be with you." It often went along with words about Having a Good Time, which easygoing theme was one of the unique scents in Mauian atmosphere.

How would it be, we mused, to live as a permanent resident in this place, where one might reasonably believe that even people with jobs and families display the Hang Loose symbol and attitude? It's almost certain that we will never know the answer, even if we sojourn there again.

Ages ago, at my 8th grade graduation, our school chorus sang an English version of the Hawaiian tune "Aloha Oe," ("Farewell to Thee") and it made a big impression on me, so that I can still remember some of the words in our translation, and find that they don't exactly match anything to be found online.

At least I did find a nice guitar rendition of the tune (just below), with lovely pictures, to wrap up my Maui Diary. As you will guess, many of the pictures are of scenes I didn't see, but they convey something of the Hawaiian heritage and natural beauty.

I won't end with that video that someone else put together, because I do have one of my own making! It was recorded on a windy afternoon on the beach by our condo, so the only sound in the movie is that of the tradewinds. It's a 360° view, starting on the beach, and taking in a row of condominiums. Ours was the flat-roofed one somewhat in the middle.

And at the very bottom of the page, the refrain of the song as I remember singing it. Good-bye, Maui! Until we meet again....




Aloha Oe, Aloha Oe,
The winds will carry back my sad refrain;
One fond embrace before we say good-bye,
Until we meet again.

Maui Diary - 10 On the Bottom

All the books said that without an off-road vehicle, you should not make a loop around the island by driving all the way along "the bottom" of Maui. But permanent residents said it was o.k., so we did it! I was so happy for the chance to at least minimally explore this wide-open space, where little traffic is.

 

Mr. Glad needed a snack, however, before we would set out on the most lonely stretch of that road, and we found one of the famous Hana fruit stands on our route, a sort of Last Chance Saloon with yummy coffee and yet another new fruit find to give us a boost for the journey.

canistel or eggfruit

I bought mangoes, and an eggfruit, a.k.a. canistel. And while my husband sipped his coffee I snapped pictures of the garden and farm in back, and mentioned to the girl working there, "A friend told me before we came that Maui is a paradise -- and he was right."

"A lot of people say that," she responded. "What do you mean by 'paradise'?" We then had a philosophical and literary conversation about the books she has been reading, the Ringing Cedars series, in which the protagonist has ideas about creating paradise on earth, as I understood.


It was a rare sort of encounter for me, in which I find a stranger who wants to engage on topics of mutual interest, at a time when I also have the energy. I hated to leave her, and I took some more photos of the garden and farm behind the humble storefront.

This begonia resembled one I used to have in my house in California -- but that one never bloomed....





Then we were on our way. The problems with the road are two: a stretch of several miles that is unpaved, and many miles of one-lane paved road. I was the driver for this trip, and I found the unpaved sections pretty easy. There were potholes, but the road was wide enough to maneuver around them.

For a while at the outset rain poured down and we kept the wipers going, but when it stopped we were quick to open the windows and let the ultra-fresh air blow through.




The breeze carried a mysterious and new fragrance, certainly the breathings of that wild coast's unique set of botanicals.








Even the eroded lowest slopes of Haleakala Volcano on our right seemed to me the most beautiful sight, while I was getting that kind of air in my lungs.

On the left side of the road, we looked down on the beach, empty of humanity.






Once I stopped to get a closer whiff of this plant -- but on its own at least it didn't smell much.

Mr. Glad discovered a rainbow behind us, and I let him do the honors of capturing that extra blessing of our adventure. Lacking a scratch-and-sniff feature on my computer, or any kind of words that can do justice to this stretch of coastline, I'll let it be The End of this day's diary of Maui.

Maui Diary 9 - Bamboo Forest

I hadn't read up on the hike to Waimoku Falls, so until we entered the middle stretch of the trail I was unaware that a bamboo forest was even in my future. Just after we passed the giant banyan tree we started to notice the bamboo; at first the growth was not too imposing, and sunlight shined through.











The green walls became thicker and higher as we walked on, and the individual stalks larger in diameter, blocking out the light.

Depending on the soil and climate, the species of bamboo and the age of the rhizome clump, the stems of this grass can be narrow or wide, but they always emerge from the ground at their full thickness.




 
The growing season is only three or four months long, at the end of which the the stalks have reached their full height, and begin to harden. In five to eight years they decay from fungal and mold growth and die.

The darkest and dankest part of the trail was also the smelliest. Being more of a monoculture than the rain forest of the Pacific Northwest, it had nothing like the delicious aroma I drank in when visiting there. I tried hard to make a place in the olfactory regions of my brain where I could enjoy the aroma of rotting bamboo in deep layers, but I finally gave up. Because I didn't like that odor, I also didn't care about finding descriptors.


Signs along the trail told me it wasn't a true monoculture. Not even counting the small and microscopic plants that were probably growing somewhere, an occasional red-orange flower on the ground revealed that an African Tulip Tree was blooming prodigiously up closer to the sky where I couldn't see.

When I saw a knobby tree trunk beside the trail, the contrast was such a relief I spent quite a while trying to capture it.
 




And as we neared the falls, the canopy opened up enough again to reveal a wealth of other tropical plants.



The trail we hiked was in the southern area of Haleakala National Park, a large territory that also includes the summit of Haleakala Volcano, where we had visited at sunrise just a few days previous. Two fingers of parkland extend to the ocean on the south of Maui, and we were climbing within one of those fingers.



When we arrived at the 400' high Waimoku Falls my powers of concentration were challenged. I think that it's because waterfalls are constantly moving that they are impossible to focus on in the manner that my slow mind prefers. I get restless.

So I looked around and found an African tulip blossom that had worked itself into a streamside niche and a picture reminiscent of Andy Goldsworthy. It held its position long enough for me to think about it and become attached to it. So glad to have a camera.

Then we walked back through the bamboo, feeling as though we were on another planet. We wouldn't have been surprised if a giant panda had dropped down on the path ahead. But soon we'd come to the end of our strange tunnel and within an hour I was at the wheel of the car guiding it along the loop that would wind back to our home base.

Maui Diary 8 - Durian, Soursop, and Rambutan

ice-cream bananas

The Ono Organic Fruit Farm was a laid-back place after all. We were a half-hour late for our tour of this farm south of Hana, and it didn't really matter; others were even later than that. So the staff gave the second part first, to those On Time, and we tardy folk just had to stay around longer if we wanted to walk around to see and learn about the trees and bushes.

The main event was the fruit-tasting, for which we sat on an open-air porch before a table spread with a collection of tropical fruits. The young married farm interns chose one after another of the fruits and cut them into pieces to pass around to our group of twenty-or-so, giving us commentary all the while about the business operation, the agricultural practices, and what they knew of the individual species.

Being the daughter of a fruit farmer myself, I was full of questions about the cultivation or the fruits, many of which the fairly green farmers weren't able to answer.

That was o.k. There were plenty of other specific things and facts on which I could focus my mind and my camera, and in this case, with those particulars being so strange and new, it's was terribly stimulating.


This farm makes most of its income from bananas, including the more commonly found Williams variety, of which the kind we eat here is a type, and also the Red Cuban Bananas and Ice Cream Bananas. But oh, what a lot of other goodies they grow.

Soursop

I was intrigued by the soursop, which is a plant related to the chirimoya and the pawpaw. It was tasty but not overly sweet, and had a sherbet-like texture. In fact, it is used in tropical climates to make sherbet or refreshing drinks.

We were told not to eat the seeds, so I picked several out of my chunk of fruit, very smooth and black seeds that begged to go home with me, so I put them in a scrap of paper towel in my purse.

Later on I'm pretty sure I transferred them to my suitcase, but by the time I unpacked back home in my bedroom, they were nowhere to be found. I've been sad ever since, but Mr. Glad is actually glad that I'm not planting a tree for nothing. It wouldn't be for nothing to me, but it certainly would be without fruit.

Scooping Passionfruit

We ate some of the passionfruit shown above, and later bought jars of lilikoi jam that had been put up just that morning from a variety of passionfruit grown there on the farm. The red fruits in the foreground are Surinam "cherries," a pretty sour, but juicy, experience, not anything like a true cherry.

Those mangoes they grow on Maui might have been our favorite fruit of the trip -- they seemed exquisite compared to the Mexican ones we are used to here. I always love coconut, and the pineapples we ate on the farm and elsewhere on the island were the Maui Gold hybrid, low-acid and amazingly sweet.

rambutan or dragon-eye fruit

One time years ago I had read a long article about durian fruit, and always took it as a given that no one would ever even gently suggest that I eat some -- but there it was right in front of me, an opportunity to overcome my stodginess and pretend to be a daredevil. Trying strange foods is not my idea of fun, and durian may be the strangest of all.

ornamental pineapple

You may know about durian, that in several countries of the world it is illegal to carry it on public transportation, because of its aroma -- or stink, as it seems to those who get physically ill over it. Other people get downright addicted to the fruit, and travel the globe following the durian harvest.

cacao fruit

I ate it and survived. In case my readers have the chance to taste durian sometime, I won't say too much about it, except that it did not seem like a fruit. It was not juicy; it was soft; it had sulfuric components....The interns said that the piece we sampled was fairly mild tasting. It didn't make me sick, but neither do I have any interest in eating another bite.

I thought the fresh cacao seeds would be bitter, like the roasted beans, but it was more pleasant than that, a vaguely chocolatey and unsweet, soft crunch.



Maybe because our tasting had begun late, the walking tour afterward seemed to pass way too quickly. I was constantly lagging as I tried to get pictures of macadamia or cashew or breadfruit trees.

coffee and banana

One common tactic of organic farmers is to interplant different crops, so that pests and diseases don't spread too easily. Here at Ono Farms coffee bushes often grow in the shade of banana trees.




Our visit was all close to the ground, but on the wall above the heads of our hosts was this aerial photograph, showing how bananas were planted years ago to spell out the name of this place where our senses were flooded with tropical flavors. The growers were right when they named their farm: in Hawaiian Ono means delicious.

Maui Diary 7 -- Hana

Hamoa Beach

Before we ever saw it, the town of Hana had taken on a mysterious and romantic identity in my mind, a sort of personality created out of the scattered facts and sayings gleaned from books and friends, such as:

Hana is remote, reached by a long and winding, narrow road... The residents like it that tourists find it troublesome to get to... Many stores only take cash, and businesses close early... There's not much night life... The beaches are black, or red-and-white, or the usual white/grey, but always mythical... It rains most days on that side of the island.

No doubt I also connected the sound "hah-nah" to that other geographical name that resonated not only in my ears but in my soul: Hoh. That was another moist place we visited, a river and a forest that teemed with life and constant change, and which I found soothing and exhilarating at the same time.

We reserved a condo in Hana for one night so that we wouldn't have to hurry back to our home base on the South Shore as soon as we reached this destination. Good thing, because as it was, our experience of Hana was too short for comfort, and bittersweet.

Lisa St. Aubin de Teran said that "Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, 'I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.'" I don't mean to be superficial; I always long for plenty of time to get to know a new person or place to some degree higher than a Casual Meeting. Hana must think I am a flirt; I hope I can go back and demonstrate otherwise.

We arrived in Hana in the afternoon, and missed visiting the famous black beach because we were late for an appointment (oh, that is so un-Hana-ish) on the other side of town. But we had our own lesser black beach that we could see right off the deck of our room. In the picture above you can barely see it on the other side of the building, a little dark strip.

Spider Lily

At dusk we walked on those steep slopes of black gravel, and the wind blew my hair every which way as rain began to fall. Quite a lot of rain fell in the night, and we could hear it along with the pounding waves, through the doors that I insisted on leaving open so that I could feel the magical Hawaiian air.

In the morning we packed up and went early to Hamoa Beach -- there are those soft-toned exhalations again -- where the sky and sea looked dark and coldly unfriendly like our Northern California beaches -- but beyond the colors, there was no likeness at all. Mr. Glad walked out into the waves and swam in the warm water to his heart's content, while I waded and dug my toes into the so-soft sand. I took pictures, and noted that the Spider Lilies here looked fresh and perky compared to the ones on the sunnier side of Maui.

For a little while it seemed that we were the only people on Hamoa Beach. On the beach, yes, but there was a surfer out beyond the breakers. He caught my eye when he stood up on his board, a muscular brown islander guy (surely the same hunk I had seen on a postcard), and let the surf bring him all the way in.

On The Most Beautiful Beach in the World, wasn't that just the perfect scene enacted for our delight? When he carried his surfboard out of the water I told him, "Watching you ride that wave completed my experience of Maui." "Is it your first time on the island?" he asked. Then he extended his hand to shake mine and said, "Welcome to Maui!"

natural Hamoan sand design

Maui Diary 6 - Christmas and Fishes

Ornate Butterflyfishes

No, we didn't go to Maui at Christmastime, but one of the fishes I saw was named the Christmas Wrasse. That got me thinking about how children love Christmas with all its treats and presents and surprises, and how swimming in the ocean in that warm climate and discovering new wonders every moment made me feel like a child.

Orangeband Surgeonfish

Lots of people who are old or achy like to swim because there is no pressure of gravity on the joints, and we can get some exercise without much pain. It seems the salty ocean is even more buoyant; several times I tried hard to dive underwater to get closer to the fish, but I could not. And this water was blissfully mild in temperature...I thought I could swim forever, it was so friendly. 

Saddle Wrasse

We didn't take pictures of the fish, but I was able to find some photos online and am posting the ones that most resemble the particular fish as they were when we met them. I personally saw at least 16 different species on our four expeditions, of which I think my favorite to look at was the Ornate Butterflyfish (photo at top). Three times we rented snorkel equipment, and the last time we just used swim masks.

How free and happy I was, exploring a whole new natural environment. This was nothing like my usual gym pool where I doggedly plow up and back, up and back, watching the clock. It felt like a dream, maybe I was a fish myself, gliding almost effortlessly through the liquid world, gazing down into underwater pools and coral gardens. Sea urchins made splashes of black, blue, and hot pink behind the fish. But no, I wasn't a fish, because there was the rough sound of my breath going in and out of the snorkel tube. At least the fish didn't seem to be bothered.

Honolua Bay

It's a mark of how special the snorkeling experience was generally that I can even remember the less pleasant parts without sadness. Like our visit to Honolua Bay, which on a good day is reported to have the best snorkeling -- but it was not a good day. In this photo you can probably see that the water was brown under the surface, but we didn't want to see that. So on we went!

Fourspot Butterflyfishes

The wind was blowing too hard, the water was cloudy, and a lot of gunk in the form of wood chips, twigs and other dirty organic material floated on the surface above the fish hangouts, getting into my hair and under my swimsuit. It was my birthday, so I didn't feel guilty about asking that we cut that excursion short. Besides, we had already taken up a lot of time picking our way along the rugged shore, looking for a safe place to enter into the bay without getting sloshed against big rocks. Mr. Glad was pretty content to swim back to land, because he had seen a trumpet fish.

Ahihi Cove

Christmas Wrasse

Our best fish-viewing experiences happened a few days earlier at spots along the South Shore, like the little cove in the picture above. 

On our first outing, my first snorkeling ever, we lost track of time at Ulua Beach as we swam marveling back and forth. We managed to stay close together and point, waving our arms at one another when we saw a new fish for the first time -- still, when we went back to the condo and looked at pictures we learned that each of us had seen at least one type of fish that the other hadn't seen.

Several times I found myself in a predicament of tall coral and had to pay more attention to my paddling in order to get out of there without damaging me or the coral. Twice it seemed we were headed back to shore to rest, without discussing it...and then we changed direction and went away from the beach again and back to the coral beds. We didn't really want to leave yet, I guess.

On one of these sojourns closer to shore I found myself next to a shimmery school of small silver fish that were swimming pretty close to the surface, a thousand of them at least, and I swam toward them, reaching out my hands hoping to touch one. They were like an underwater version of starlings, swiftly breaking into legions, swirling into new groupings and always away so that I could never get into their ranks, but I spent quite a while trying, and they didn't seem to make much effort to get out of range.

They were some kind of scad, probably Big-eye Scad, and definitely the most fun to swim with. We were like distant cousins getting acquainted on Christmas Day, in a game of water-tag, playing chase for the pure joy of it.

(I'm taking a break from the computer for a few days, so it might be a week before I get the next Maui Diary episode published.)

Maui Diary 5 - Longs Lives!

Who knew that one of the pleasures of being on a Hawaiian island would be re-connecting with one's old favorite drugstore? Longs Drugstores used to be plentiful all over the West, but a few years ago they were sold to CVS Pharmacy. Only in Hawaii were they allowed to keep their old name. We noticed that they kept way more than that.

The Longs stores where our family shopped for decades were unique among chains that we knew of in that they kept a local flavor, perhaps by letting the lower management have more control.

I admit that I didn't fully appreciate the stores until they were gone and I was left with only more bland chains to choose among if I wanted something smaller than Wal-Mart. All of those stores still seem equally disorganized to me and irritating to shop in.

On Maui, the Longs store was just a few paces down the road from our condo. The first time we shopped there, laying in some supplies that we hadn't brought with us, I reveled in all of the souvenirs, Asian snacks, and a whole aisle devoted to Kona coffee and macadamia nuts.










I saw more Asian snacks than I've ever seen in my local market that carries nothing but Asian foods, and I got carried away taking pictures of the vast collection of exotic concoctions.

The names of the items are hard to read even if you click to get the large photo, so I'll just tell you that in addition to packages of the more common rice crackers and wasabi pea snacks, there were bags of pickled apricot, fried cuttlefish rings and dried cuttlefish legs, dried mango and banana chips, and lemon peel both wet and dried. I love lemon, but neither of those lemony snacks appealed to me. Many items with only Hawaiian or other foreign names filled out the array.

I was awfully excited to find really cheap re-usable carry-out bags with not only the Longs name but also the Hawaii symbols of turtle and hibiscus -- it seems my heart was longing for just such a souvenir to bring home.

At first I also thought that the Asian snacks were going to come in really handy to keep around during our vacation, but when I read the labels for a few minutes it turned out that almost all of them contained MSG or aspartame or both, so I only bought a fairly simple food that fit with the island theme: dried coconut.

dried coconut