Serene Waipiʻo Valley on Hawaii's Big Island

by B. N. Sullivan

This is the mouth of the Waipiʻo Valley, situated on the northeastern coast of Hawaii's Big Island, in the Hamakua district.   The remote valley is historically important as the childhood home of King Kamehameha I, but we think its greatest virtue is its stunning natural beauty.  The valley is about a mile wide at the coast, and is surrounded by steep cliffs that rise up to 2,000 feet from the valley floor.  Waipiʻo Valley extends inland for roughly five miles, and features hiking trails, streams, and waterfalls -- including  the 1,300 foot high Hiʻilawe Falls.

This photo was taken from the Waipiʻo Valley Overlook.  From this vantage point you can see the surf breaking on the black sand beach that forms the seaward edge of the valley.  The Overlook is near the top of the narrow, rugged road that descends into the valley.  Not only is the sole road into Waipiʻo Valley narrow, it is very steep -- a 25% grade -- requiring four-wheel drive.  It takes about a half hour to carefully descend into the valley from this overlook point.

As residents of Hawaii's Big Island, we may be prejudiced, but one thing we can say about our island home is that it's a feast for the eyes, don't you think?

What do you think when you see the ocean?

by B. N. Sullivan

When you see a scene like the one in the photo above, what do you think? Do you want to go for a swim? ...grab your mask and snorkel? ...put on your dive gear? Or maybe you'd think about getting into a boat and heading out to sea?

Would you muse about all the places and possibilities that lie over the horizon? Or would you feel like you had arrived at some kind of dead end?

That's right, I said dead end!

How people feel when they arrive at a shoreline is completely dependent on their point of view. Let me tell you a story that taught us that this is so.

A number of years ago, while traveling in Greece, we agreed to give a ride to a young man who was headed our way. We didn't know him very well, but we learned something important from him when we stopped for a bite to eat. We chose a seaside taverna in the little coastal town of Kamena Vourla. The taverna had a canopied outdoor section with tables and chairs placed right on the beach, and that's where we sat. It was a fine sunny day, with a light sea breeze wafting the salty air and causing little wavelets to lap against the shoreline. It was quite heavenly, actually.

We ordered our lunch, and then sat there chatting while we waited for our food. We swapped stories about our travels -- places we'd been, and places we'd still like to visit. Then, enchanted with the lovely Aegean coastal scene and the pleasantly moist sea air, I gushed, "Don't you just love being next to the sea like this? I always feel like the whole world is out there, just waiting for me!"

The young man gave me a puzzled look and replied, "Really? How odd. When I get to the seacoast I always feel a bit sad, because I know that's as far as I can go."

It was my turn to look puzzled. Never before had I heard anyone equate a seacoast with the end of the line -- an impediment, rather than an opportunity. I felt my expansive mood drain away, replaced by a sense of confusion. This really was a new one on me, so I felt compelled to probe, to try and figure it out.

Further conversation revealed that the young man had never been on a boat, much less a ship. He did not know how to swim, and in fact he was afraid of the water; he told us one of his worst fears was that he would drown some day. Once he revealed all that, his view regarding the seacoast made a bit more sense (although we felt quite sorry for him).

The lesson, of course, is that how we feel about places and situations depends entirely on our own point of view -- and that, in turn, often arises from our personal experiences (or lack thereof).

So, when you are on the coast and looking seaward, which is it for you? Is it the beginning of the rest of the world, or is it merely the end of the road?

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About the photo: This is our favorite entry point for shore dives and snorkeling at Puako, Hawaii.

Wordless Wednesday #24 - A 'Right Blue' Sunset

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My previous Wordless Wednesday posts.

Wordless Wednesday home page.

Wordless Wednesday #19 - Winter in Hawaii

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My previous Wordless Wednesday posts.

Wordless Wednesday home page.

Life in Hawaii: A Carnival of Aloha

It has been stormy here in Hawaii for the past several days. But those of us who live here know that after the rain, there's always a rainbow -- quite literally.

We like showing facets of our island home to our readers, and we regularly post articles about Hawaii and photos of the creatures that live here. But there is much more to Hawaii, beyond what we write about.

We'd like to invite our readers to visit the current Carnival of Aloha, a blog carnival hosted by our friend Evelyn at Homespun Honolulu. As always, the Carnival of Aloha features posts by bloggers on several of our islands, and they cover a fascinating array of subjects ranging from local architecture to hula dancers to whales. (Yes, our article about our close encounters with Humpback Whales in Hawaii is included, but there are others, too!) Or maybe you'd prefer to have a look at any of the several articles about interesting things to do, see -- and eat -- here in Hawaii. Take some time to go and have a look at the 6th edition of the Carnival of Aloha: We've Got Us a Whale of a Carnival!

About the Photo: I took the above picture in my back garden early one morning after an all-night rain. We woke up, opened our bedroom blinds and saw this beautiful double rainbow over the Pacific Ocean. I quickly grabbed the point-and-shoot camera that was handy and snapped this image. If you look closely (click the photo to enlarge) you'll see a pair of wild game birds, called Grey Francolins, waiting for their breakfast near our ground feeder.