Hawaii 2011 (Day Six)

When I'm traveling, it usually takes about a week for my documentation plan to unravel, and this vacation just reinforced the pattern. Our journey across the belt buckle of Oahu to the North Shore (or, as I mistakenly called it one day, "North Beach"), started to relax my photography ninja reflexes, and let me see some of the smaller details of island living.

To get us to the north side of the island and well past the tourist-trapping sugar enticements of the Dole Plantation, LK decided that we needed fuel for the journey. More soyrizo and eggs, as well as the remainder of what I think was quite possibly the largest avocado I have ever seen.
This breakfast was, as usual, delicious, but we still decided to stop in for a pineapple/frozen yogurt sundae.

When we got to the North Shore, I expected both more grandeur and more luxury. Instead, we were treated to some of the more laid-back aspects of Hawaiian life. Our hostel/cabin had resident pigs as well as walking alarm clocks.

To be perfectly honest, Miriam and I were kind of spooked when we pulled into our hostel. Maybe it was the electric-white sheen of Fargoans, but people seemed to stare at us wherever we walked.
I imagine that we are kind of strange looking to the tanned North Shore regulars, so there's that; however, we've probably picked up a bit of the midwestern fish-out-of-water-in-paradise vibe. Once we got settled in and stopped returning stares with every semi-stoned and half-naked island visitor (most had foreign accents), all felt fine.

One of the biggest disappointments of the vacation was the short amount of time we got to snorkel. Even though we rented some pretty sweet gear at Snorkel Bob's for a week, we only had about a two-hour window to get into the water. While we were enjoying our pineapple/yogurt sundae at the aforementioned Dole Plantation ("Hawaii's complete pineapple experience!"), LK texted us that 30-foot waves were on their way. We were not amused, as our destination, Shark's cove, is notoriously dangerous to snorkel in during the winter. 30-foot swells certainly didn't fuel our hopes that we would get into the water.

The mural on our wall did NOT reassure us, but we took our gear across the street and looked for a place to snorkel.
Fortunately for us, Pupukea beach has one sheltered spot where we could get in. We saw needlefish, a whole range of common Hawaiian reef fish, and even a Moray eel. Never. Lose. Hope.

Our cabin, while rustic, seemed to reinforce our urge for risk-taking.
Luckily, we got out before the waves got too big to brave.

What these waves took away with their power, they gave back in beauty. Seeing the wind peel off the wisps of surf wash from the crests of breakers was completely mesmerizing.

Waimea Bay, just a short 5-minute walk down the beach, gave us a chance to see some sunset surfing (and to get some of the saltwater our of our ears and other assorted places).

Once we finally settled in our cabin for the night, we could feel the waves pounding the lava shore just across the street.

Our informal wine glasses, ESPECIALLY my Tigger cup, seemed to underline the informality and the energy of the place we now found ourselves. It didn't matter that we hadn't taken pictures of everything--the waves, people, and even chickens were starting to truly transport us away from memories of snow and work.


Sport said...

Such a Tigger, you are. You didn't even complain about the skanky wine - that we drank anyway!

Sport said...

OK - I meant "skunky" as it turns out. But I will not lose hope. ;)

Doc Mara said...

Oh, I wouldn't be so coy about it. That vino definitely was having a bit TOO much fun for its own good. No good two-bit wine....

Sport said...

I knew that wine was showing a bit too much skinny jeaned leg in the land of food aisle.

Doc Mara said...

Looked a bit like THIS, that wine did.

Sport said...

OMG. That's super awesomesauce!