Me at Makalawena Beach
Hawaii
(The Big Island): March 6-16
Day 4, Makalawena Beach
Me at Makalawena Beach
Monday seemed like a good day for a more
adventurous beach
expedition. Looking at our schedule, it was clear that we weren’t going
to hit
all the beaches I was interested in, but one beach was a priority.
Makalawena
had a reputation for being one of the best, most pristine beaches on
the island
and, because most people have to hike in, it was also supposed to be
less
crowded. But the directions to it had been a bit confusing, and I’d
spent
considerable time the two days before trying to sort it all out. We had
a later
start than usual, as we needed to pick up snorkel gear, supplies, gas,
and ice,
so we didn’t head out until around 9:00. We picked our
way north into
the
middle of a barren, black lava field not far from town and turned left
toward
Kekaha Kai Beach. A small parking lot was just off the road and beyond
that a
twisting, tortuous track over the lava to another parking area closer
to the
beach. Some references said that non-4-wheel drive cars should never,
never
drive that road, but others indicated that the road had been improved
in 2013
and that most cars could now get down there if they were careful. Chris
picked
his way over the badly rutted, gouged road and, after perhaps ten
minutes of
tension, we were finally at the lot along with about six other cars. We
filled
our cooler with ice, gave the rest away to other tourists, and started
the long
hike. Even those accessing Kekaha Kai Beach had a few steps to go, and
we
started off on the path that takes visitors to the north end of the
beach which
runs between the narrow row of vegetation behind the beach and the lava
flow.
There we found the beach houses that had been abandoned by their owners
(for
inexplicable reasons, given the fantastic location), passed in front of
them,
then picked our way over the rocky end of the beach, through a grove of
palm
trees, and onto death.
Well, it would have been death at some point. A
path had
been roughly cleared through a jagged lava field of the sharp a’a’
variety. We panted
our way down it in the searing heat, trying to be careful not to
stumble, which
would certainly result in lacerations (I later picked up a few of the
rocks—carefully—and found myself inexplicably bleeding). Half way down
the path
I stopped to pick up a hair band on the trail (having lost my only one)
and
heard a bleat. A brown goat was about 75 yards away and its tiny black
kid soon
appeared from among the lava rocks. We’d seen a few goats in the
savanna-like
area farther north and aren’t sure whether they’re feral or allowed to
wander
(though I’m fairly confident now they’re feral).
We kept trudging, eyeing the greenery on the far
side of the
path. It’s amazing how individual stretches of shoreline along the
rugged, lava
strewn coast become inhabited by sand, creating beaches and dunes and
habitat
for plants. All around us was devastation, yet we could see the narrow
stretch
of green before us hinting at the location of a beach, also backed by
lava
fields. The shade inside the trees was a relief when we reached them,
but the
walking was little easier over the sand dunes. We walked past the south
beach
(which was a little less picture-perfect) and past the small point that
separates it from the north beach. A spectacularly beautiful, empty
beach lay before
us. Exhausted and hot, we sat down under a shade tree, drank a beer,
and
rested. I wandered around behind us and was surprised to find a small
freshwater
pool near where the vegetation crept up against the lava.
After
our drink, we left our gear and explored the
other
side of the beach before selecting a place to claim for the day. There
was a
comfortable area with picnic tables between large shade trees on the
north end
of the beach where we found another couple hidden in a small cove
behind rocks,
but opted instead for an isolated cluster of three trees in the middle
of the
beach, on the gentle downward slope of the beach which descended toward
the
scrub trees that separated it from the lava field. There was a single
picnic
table which we occupied. The place could not have been more lovely.
We quickly stripped down to bathing suits and
headed into
the turquoise water with our snorkel gear. A swimming-pool sized sandy
bottom
greeted swimmers at the edge of the shore, but beyond that most of the
bottom
was rock and occupied by a menagerie of tropical fish. I could
recognize
general types (triggerfish, parrotfish, surgeonfish, tangs) but
couldn’t name
any, partly from rustiness on fish ID and partly from lack of
familiarity with
the varieties in Hawai’i. The highlight of the snorkel was a big,
beautiful
moray who seemed to be focusing on a crevasse right below him from
which a much
smaller eel, or something similar, darted out while we watched. The
visibility
wasn’t stellar, but it was a nice reef and a good introduction to the
underwater world. On the way back we watched a cornetfish scuttling
just below
the surface of the perfect water. Walking back to our picnic table, we
startled
a small group of goats who’d been nosing around under our trees! Soon
after
that, a rooster showed up, the first of many amusing chicken encounters.
The rest of the day was idyllic and luxurious.
Other people
showed up—perhaps eight or so groups at the height of the day
(including a
surf-loving German shepherd)—and two groups occupied the other shade
trees in
our area temporarily, but it never lost the feeling of perfection and
seclusion. One of those occupying our area appeared to be a local haole
with a
visitor; he split open a coconut and gave us all a small piece to try.
The
other group arrived late and left early, and gave us their last beer to
lighten
their load back.
On top of playing in the water with Chris several
times, I
went for another snorkel and tried out my Watershot underwater housing
with my
new iphone 5 (both of which were purchased in part for underwater
photos on
this trip) during which I discovered a neat rock arch over the sand
inhabited
by a large school of goatfish. I ended the snorkel by lingering over a
large
rock awash with surf, enjoying the movement of fish in and out of its
large
crevasse.
While
reading or relaxing around the picnic table,
I enjoyed
the company of small, striking black and white, red-headed birds
(yellow-billed
cardinals) but was greatly disappointed to find that they, too, are
introduced,
a bird from South America. I’d already discovered that the northern
cardinals
(not surprisingly), the red-billed leiothrix that we’d seen in Pololu
Valley,
and a green bird with white eye rings (Japanese white-eye) that I’d
spotted
near our hotel were all introduced. I was beginning to despair of
seeing native
birds beyond my Hawaiian hawk! With birds in mind, I briefly explored
the brush
behind the beach (growing out of lava rock) and also walked north to
sit
against a tree and look at a fish pond from a distance, pleased to find
more
indigenous birds there, if not particularly endemic (American coots,
black
stilts, northern pintails, and shorebirds including a gray sandpiper
and what
looked like turnstones). I wanted to get closer, but it is a place of
significance to native Hawaiians and I remained beneath the sign. I
also saw a
sleek, small, dark lizard there on a dead tree.
All day long we saw splashes in deeper water—a cow
and calf
and perhaps another humpback hung out nearby, the calf breaching on
occasion. A
different group of several animals lobbed and slapped pectoral fins to
the
north and an adult breached repeatedly farther out. We’d seen a few
blows and a
fluke from Hapuna Beach, but this was our first real Hawaiian whale
action. All
in all, Makalawena was the idyllic beach for me. It was secluded
enough, there
was lots of space without being a beach that stretched to the horizon,
the surf
wasn’t strong enough to produce uncomfortable waves (though Chris would
have
enjoyed that), the snorkeling was decent, there was wild land nearby,
we had
shade (and the picnic table was awfully nice too), scenery in all
directions
was lovely, and there was even wildlife—or at least feral livestock—to
entertain us. The entire Kekaha Kai State Park (including Kekaha Kai
Beach,
Makalawena Beach, and Kua Bay) was once private property before the
owners sold
it to a Japanese developer, leaving behind the airy beach houses we’d
passed on
the way in. Thankfully for all of us, development permits were denied
and the
property was purchased back by the state to become Kakaha Kai State
Park.
As the afternoon wore on and the beach emptied,
the chickens
began a bolder approach, eventually pecking among all the trees while
we were
still very much occupying our area. Around 5:30, with the sun low on
the
horizon and the beach as deserted as when we’d arrived, we reluctantly
packed
up and headed back toward Kailua and dinner at the Fish Hopper where we
indulged in fancy tropical drinks. I ate too much, including a dessert
of blue
sweet potato pie.
 Edge of a lava flow |
 Kekaha Kai parking lot |
 Crossing the devastation |
 A goat! |
 Behind the beach |
 The trees we occupied |
 Chris looks at a rooster |
 A rooster visits |
 Chris in the surf |
 Arch |
 Fish in the surge |
 Makalawena reef |
 Makalawena! |
 Flowers growing on lava behind the beach |
 Sacred fish pond area |
 Our site for the day |
 Chickens! |
 Heading out |
