Beach stereotype

I laid in bed this morning totally content with waning in and out of sleep, listening to snippets of conversations being had in the rooms adjacent to mine. Through the paper thin walls I heard plans for the day being talked about. Deciding against a day alone in the park I arose and asked if I could join their van to the Kona side of the island. With one space available in Lisa's van I got ready for the day, hopped in with everyone else and headed toward the Punaluu Beach State Park (a.k.a. Turtle Beach) to pick up Renee. She spent the morning there observing Hawksbilled turtles in the wild and surely spent the rest of the time soaking up rays from the Sun and the warmth radiating from the black sand. A brief incident with a rather large spider only delayed our leaving by a minute or two and probably only shaved a year or two off poor Lisa's life.

Roundy, roundy we went toward the Kona side of the Big Island. We took a quick stop at the cyberspace world of Walmart so everyone could look for a little bit of this and that. That was, thankfully, a short stop and we were soon again headed toward our day at the beach. Well, almost. One more jaunt into downtown Kona so Matt could return a sterling example of a ukalele to the ABC Store from which he bought it. The rest of us waited in the van while he did so and we were surprised by the sight of Julie and Kara cruising the streets in their rented electric car (basically an aerodynamic golf cart). They reveled in tech style while sipping Starbucks drinks with two boogie boards dangling out the back of their ride. We left the amusing duo to their various exploits and resumed our trek toward Hapuna Beach State Park. But first, one more stop.

The highway just north of Kona is bordered on both sides by long cooled aa lava flows decorated/vandalized with messages written in small pieces of coral. One message in particular was pointed out to me that read, simply, "PLU." Yes, our mark has officially been left. In consideration of the impending research needed for our final papers our van made a brief stop over at the Puukohola Heiau just one turn north of Spencer Beach State Park. The ocean water just below the ceremonial site is filled with the objects of Brooke's research topic: sharks. She spent time talking with someone in the office there about the fish while the rest of the van prepared ourselves for our time at our beach. Once suited up and thoroughly lathered up, Brooke was finished and we soon made it to Hapuna Beach!

If ever there is a stereotypical model of a Hawaiian beach, this would be it. Royal palm trees playing overhead in the gentle breezes, greenish-blue water at the shore to dark blue water at the horizon, tanned and toned bodies covering the sand, and waves of a perfect boogie or body boarding magnitude lapped toward the silky tan sand. Oh yes, and that Sun thing. It was a perfectly clear day that made possible seeing all the surrounding mountains and out to the very ends of the horizon. Kristin, Matt and I were the only steady ocean goers in the bunch (although I wasn't in as much as them due in part to the chilly water). Matt and I tried to provoke Kristin into horseplay. She repeatedly lunged and hurled herself at us, carefully thinking out her attack. Unfortunately for her and despite our teachings, Kristin never quite got the hang of taking down a male in the water. I will give her props though because her heart was certainly in it. She was a ferocious student that is on her way to a promising career in water play.

A quick loss of the Aerobee in the water later and I was out of the fridgid waves for good. I was also somewhat bored by the ordeal. Watching Matt jump around every incoming wave like a fish struggling up a ladder at a dam was about the most spectacular of events at the beach. A blob of a turtle did pass nearby under the water. We couldn't directly observe it because we were without mask and snorkel and also because the graceful animal was moving really fast up the beach. These two pleasures were far eclipsed by the boredom I felt from bathing in the Sun. I suppose if more people were actually playing around in the water with one another I would've been more prone to having fun. Being in the water just doesn't give me the joy that it seems to give other people, Hawaii or not.

We soon departed the beach and headed up the north side of the island through Waimea. A quick stop for food and refreshments there then we continued on toward Hilo where another craving was to be satisfied. Good music, conversation and clear weather helped pass the time spent in the van. Once in Hilo we stopped at Taco Bell. Our run for the border was a quick one but certainly satisfied my urge for their fast food. After we got home and had dinner at the firehouse, we overloaded Lisa's van (don't tell Dr. Benham) and drove down to the active flow. Half way down the pali a faint red glow marked the spot where the lava was entering the sea. We parked the van and, via flashlight, walked out to the first ridge. From there we could see a deep rim of glowing red up the pali as well as the glow from lava creating the steam plum in the water. Moonlight glimmered on the ocean as the supposedly paltry display of molten rock shown before us. I say this because some others went out last night to see the flow and were claiming a much better show. Never mind that because I was taken aback by the scene. Everything I've already mentioned plus a total covering of stars in the sky etched an ever lasting image in my mind. And if that doesn't stay with me, hopefully my long exposure shots will come out. We weren't allowed to stay outside viewing the flow for long because some ill prepared members of our group became cold and turned back to the vans. Once we stufffed outselves into the clown car, I mentally separated myself from the group and enjoyed the impression in my mind of the night time viewing of the flow. It left me with a bland spot inside that could probably only be filled by a return to normal life. I have had a spectacular time here this J-term but am currently very burned out. I'm not physically tired but feel very socially drained. Not that I've been a mighty mogul of the social kind but I feel more and more like there's no easy way to find people you truly want to be with. Everyone on the trip is really easy to get along with but seems to offer me no real connection. The occaisional deep conversations are much welcome but don't seem to attach themselves readily to someone I'd call a "best friend." I guess the bottom line is that sometimes, depending upon the situation, I feel like there's nothing offered up socially that I can really adhere to. I don't enjoy feeling unlike myself yet I almost feel that when I'm separated like this I lose the urge to even try. Guess it's just about time for me to be home.

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Sun. January 23, 2000

Beach stereotype

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