Honoka'a to Hilo

The overnight fog/mist at Waianehua abated by dawn, and we rose to brilliant sunshine and cool, still air. Atmospheric clarity of the sort that the astronomical observatories on Mauna Kea were visible without distortion, nearly 12,000 feet above us, from the back porch of the house.

Breakfast consumed, we did a last postprandial stroll of the Waianehua grounds. A hidden gem (a useful but tiresome term commont to guidebooks for Hawai'i) had been right there but unnoticed until this morning.

This lava tube is hidden in a small copse smack dab in the middle of the back acreage. The upper end is collapsed and overgrown. This lower portion passes an unknown distance down from here and seems to course well beyond the property boundary. Possibly for miles?

We exchanged last goodbyes and addresses with new friends made at Waianuhea - all of whom we saw again later today near Hilo.

Southeast of Honoka'a along the Hamakua coast is Laupahoehoe Point. The point is an exposed lava shelf, long inhabited and in a historical region of now-defunct sugar production. On April 1, 1946, a tsunami generated by an earthquake off the coast of Alaska swept away 20 school children and 4 teachers. A memorial at the spot lists their names and ages. The spot is now a beautiful park, green and partly shaded. The small village of Laupahoehoe, approximately 600 people, was moved up the slope after the tidal wave. But.....the point is windy and edged by open ocean driven by trade winds. It is some of the roughest and most unpredictable surf in the world. Awesome nonetheless. Local wisdom regarding this location says, "Watch the ocean all you want, but do not turn your back on it."

To drive the modern coastal highway from Honoka'a to Hilo is to traverse very rugged and steep up-and-down terrain. There are many deep gorges to be crossed, running perpendicular to the coast and parallel to each other, and volcanoes rise above to the right while the ocean is a constant to the left. The coast had presented formidable obstacles to land travel for hundreds of years, until the advent of modern road engineering and bridges that removed the switchbacks and fords.

Northwest of Hilo, one of these gorges is fed by Akaka Falls, where the water descends freely some 500 feet. Standing motionless to watch, I thought the water had a festooning or ribbony pattern, which I hope the video appended below can convey. Dense tropical vegetation obscures the walls and precipices of the gorge, and the abundant warning signs remind visitors than an accidental descent might take one all the way to the bottom.

Not far east of Akaka there is a scenic route passing much closer to the shore than does the more modern main highway. We took this route and stopped at one of the funky local attractions for a light lunch.

Lunch was the daily special smoothie (banana, strawberry, passion fruit, papaya) accompanied by macaroons and macadamia biscotti. Further along, the road bisects the Hawai'ian Tropical Botanical Gardens. I'm not much of a flower person, but MJ is (and I have a brother-in-law and sister, and two friends from Staten Island, who decidedly ARE flower people), and after visiting this magnificent and astonishing place I will post only a few illustrative photos. We will put many others in a Flickr folder to be viewed by those interested in them. I would go back to this place in the proverbial NY minute. The profusion of orchids alone, a specialty of Hawai'i, justifies the visit.

The trail in the gardens drops several hundred feet to Onomea, itself a spectacular small bay and home of both beautiful surf and a rare "blowhole":

Through a gap in the trees, between the Gardens and Hilo, Mother Nature winked, briefly:

We entered and then negotiated a busy "rush hour" Hilo, stocked up on "provisions", and reported late this evening to our host, Kathryn Grout in Volcano City. We shall sleep well in a bed with a down comforter and a heated mattress, at 4000 feet altitude, albeit with an active volcano fewer than two miles down the road.