| September 20, 1998 | Issue 15 | Orem, Utah |
We spent the last week of July in Hawaii. This issue tells how we got a free trip, and our adventures while there. And be sure not to miss Ethan’ photo essay, Hawaii by Garbage Cans.
You too can get a virtually free trip to Hawaii!
All you need to do is pack yourself in a large crate, attach a single first-class postage stamp and you’re off. Of course the very important part is this: you put a Hawaii return address on the box. Where the crate is actually addressed to doesn’t matter, because due to insufficient postage, the crate will be returned to the sender, and there you’ll be in Hawaii!
Or, as a less likely method, get your Dad to pay for the whole thing. We actually chose this method. Dad sent an email Tuesday, December 16, 1997 that included this rather matter-of-fact paragraph:
Thinking about July time frame though, I have been giving some thought to how nice it would be for all of us to spend a week in Hawaii in the summer. At that time of year condos are plentiful and air fares are reasonable and of course school is not a problem. The weather in Hawaii is basically the same year around so summer is only slightly warmer than winter. I would pick up the tab for the air fare, cars and the condos for everyone, spouses and kids naturally included. Let me know if this has some appeal and if so I can put the wheels into motion for getting it set up.
Good thing that message came because we were about to order our three-man crate.
Getting Wet
A lot of our trip to Hawaii involved getting wet. The means were plentiful: perspiring in the hot, humid air, swimming in the pools at Kanaloa, splashing on beaches, getting rained on, scuba diving, snorkeling, and Ethan spilling your drink on you.
There was a great snorkeling spot just a few minutes away from Kanaloa, the condos where we were staying, but we had to drive into town first to get some gear. We decided to go to Snorkel Bob’s. It seems like we had seen an advertisement for some pretty good prices there, but they should have named their place Bait and Switch Bob’s given the vast difference between the ad and reality.
Anyway, we headed off to Kahaluu Beach Park, which was billed in one publication as the best snorkeling in the islands. I didn’t have anything to compare it with, but it was pretty amazing. There were hundreds of fish swimming all around; tropical fish, so there were fabulous colors everywhere. Alan and I swam out past the rocks that were protecting the cove, and it was pretty cool out there. The water got much deeper so you could dive down a little.
Of course, there were also some waves out there, which meant I got a snorkel full of saltwater a couple of times. I was trying to remember if I have ever actually been swimming in the ocean before, because if I have, I had no memory of how nauseating seawater is. And when you nearly breathe it, it is even worse.
Shannon and I took turns going out, because someone had to stay with Ethan. I’m afraid Shannon got the bad end of the deal, because Ethan was very tired, got sunscreen in his eyes, and just balled for a while until he fell asleep in her arms. But she did finally make it out long enough to get a neat-o X-shaped sunburn on her back since I didn’t do a good enough job with the sunscreen around her swimsuit straps.
On Saturday morning, we went back to the same place and got there just as they were opening up the gate to the beach in the morning. We found ourselves swimming with the sea turtles when we got in the water. I counted five different turtles, ranging in length from about two to three feet. I wasn’t sure if a turtle would be threatening, so I tried to keep my distance. One time as I was swimming back toward shore, though, I nearly ran into one. I guess they must be used to snorkelers.
Kerry and Melissa brought some tortillas to feed the fish, which was kind of fun. Some of the braver (or hungrier) fish would eat right out of your hand.
Craters
On our first full day in Hawaii, we rounded up the convoy of rented Ford Escorts and a minivan for the drive to Volcanoes National Park. We wound along Dramamine Drive (Hwy 11) for about an hour before we took a break at the Black Sand Beach.
Black Sand Beach
There was a relatively sheltered bit of water that Ethan decided was a good place to swim. Not that he had a swimsuit or anything – he just marched right in. There were little black crabs all over the place, and I later discovered that they were all over the island (well, at least the parts by the ocean). I saw some that were so small that I thought they were little spiders at first.
When we got to the Volcano Park, we saw huge plumes of molten rock spewing into the sky. After the video, though, we were somewhat disappointed by the lack of flying lava.
We had a picnic lunch that involved a lot of chasing Ethan around, then set out to see the sights. In a way, it reminded me a little of Yellowstone, but with fewer geysers and more craters. And a lot more people. Of course, the only time I’ve been to Yellowstone was very late in the season.
Desolation Trail was kind of interesting. After walking through a grove of softly twisted trees that grew bright red flowers, you entered a wasteland of dark-gray volcanic pebbles. There were more rocks than Ethan could throw in a lifetime, though he wanted to chuck a few handfuls for every step he took on the trail. At the end of the trail was, in my opinion, the best crater we saw.
Thurston Lava Tube
Thurston Lava Tube was a tame version of Ape Caves in Washington. There was a lower section to the tube that wasn’t lighted, but who would think to bring flashlights to a volcano park?
Swimming With Lead Weights
Certainly one of the highlights of the trip for me was going scuba diving for the first time. Cathy and I signed up for the uncertified dive, while Alan and Evie, being certified divers, got to have a little more freedom. Dad had to pass on the diving this time because of an uncooperative appendectomy a couple of weeks before the trip.
Alan after a successful dive
The dive shop was within walking distance of our condos, and when we got there we met Dive Master Frank and Captain Jan. Frank was actually just taking care of Cathy and I, and one other guy who had been certified when he was 16, but thought that he might have forgotten too much in 25 years. Frank is from southern Oregon, and used to spend summers on the Rogue River, but decided that diving at Kona might be fun for a while.
Eric in his wet-suit
While we rode on the boat out to the first dive spot, Frank gave us a quick introduction to diving. The first rule of scuba diving, he says, is to breathe. A pretty good rule, not only for the obvious reason, but also because it keeps your lungs from being damaged when changing depths. He also taught us about equalizing the pressure on sinus and ear cavities by pinching your nose and popping your ears. That’s a very important skill, but I don’t remember seeing the people in movies doing that. Just another one of those unglamorous things that you don’t imagine James Bond doing.
We also learned about some of the equipment – mainly the regulator, because of its in-your-face prominence. The skills we had to demonstrate were recovering a lost regulator, and clearing a mask full of water. But before we could even get into the water, we had to pass the absurdly easy written quiz.
Oh, there was also this medical waiver, which wasn’t a problem. The only thing on there that gave me a slight pause was about claustrophobia. I don’t really think I’m claustrophobic, but there are some situations that make me uncomfortable. I kind of imagined that being so far underwater might be a problem if you have claustrophobia, but it might have actually been the part where they start strapping on your gear.
While you’re sitting on the edge of the boat getting ready to jump in the water, they first strap a bunch of lead weights around your waist. Then they throw on a fifty pound air tank, so that you worry about being able to stand up, let alone swim. Finally, they fill up your buoyancy compensation vest, which although it gives you some small hope that you won’t sink directly to the bottom, feels like someone is trying to check your blood pressure by wrapping the sphygmomanometer around your chest. OK, now jump in the water!
Fortunately they know what they’re doing, and I actually did float comfortably in the water while we demonstrated our skills, and then we began our controlled descent. We went down slowly, while holding on to the boat’s anchor line, popping our ears every few feet.
We actually made two dives, and I think both of them were about 40 feet deep before we were standing on the ocean floor. There were lots of fish, but not as many as we saw when we were snorkeling on Tuesday. We saw Butterflyfish, Goatfish, Forcepsfish, Moorish Idols, and dozens of other varieties of tropical fish. There were a couple of varieties of coral – one of which is actually soft, and almost rubbery. The more traditional sharp kind was also present, and gave me a little scrape while we were looking at a Giant Horned Conch. A Sea Turtle swam by, and we also saw a highly camouflaged Devil Scorpion Fish. I’m not sure what merited that name, but Frank gave us a clear “don’t touch this” hand signal.
At one point Frank swam down to the floor and came up with an octopus in his hand. It was shooting ink all over the place and wriggling about, but then it finally calmed down and we were able to touch it. It’s body felt kind of slimy, but it’s hard to adjust your sense of touch to being underwater. The suction cups on its tentacles were very sticky. It was strange to see its eyes for some reason. Maybe just strange that such a bizarre creature actually has eyes.
Instead of trying to get away any more, the octopus became very friendly. It scooted into Frank’s vest and came out the bottom behind him, and then wrapped itself around Frank’s legs and crotch. With a little persuasion, it eventually let go and propelled away.
The really amazing thing about diving to me (other than thinking, “Gee, I’ve been swimming around underwater for a long time!”) is the incredible dividing line of the surface. It is like two different worlds. Even as clear as the water is, when you look over the ocean’s vast expanse, you can hardly imagine everything below the surface. Then you enter that underwater world, and the surface again becomes a dividing line, shutting out the terrestrial world.
How Eric gave me and my big mouth one of my favorite Hawaiian adventures
While talking with friends about their trips to Hawaii, my neighbor, Michelle, mentioned she went parasailing. I thought to myself, “If Michelle can do it then I can too.” That’s what I get for being prideful. My big mouth, almost as if acting independently from my body, said to Eric that it looked like fun and I just might like to try parasailing.
That is all it took. Eric was like an elephant — for months he never forgot. He latched onto the idea of me parasailing and wouldn’t let me forget it either.
After we’d been in Hawaii for a few days we went shopping on the main tourist strip. We ran into a very enthusiastic time-share marketer. She almost had us signed up for a no obligation tour of one of her “few remaining” units. Her strongest selling point was a complimentary parasailing trip she would give after a three-hour tour. We decided to think about her offer. I hope she’s not still waiting for our answer.
Further down the strip we found some more information about parasailing, sans time-share obligations. I was a bit nervous, so fortunately for me the booth was empty — my great adventure would have to be postponed for another day. I think I partially hoped postponed for another vacation.
Eric was determined. First thing the next morning (literally 7:30 A.M.) we started making phone calls to book me for my parasailing adventure.
Forty two dollars and a few calls later, the die was cast, and my fate was set (I’m not being too dramatic). I was booked on a 1:30 ship. Adding to my fright was that Eric and Ethan weren’t going along for moral support. Apparently there was an additional large fee for non-flying passengers.
I became suspicious of Eric’s enthusiasm and began questioning his motives. This all seemed a bit too convenient. What else but foul play would explain Eric’s dogged pursuit of my parasailing?
Eric gleefully admitted he was the sole beneficiary on my life insurance policy. It only amounted about $5,000, but yes, that might just buy the new computer he wanted. Fear only made my mind sharper. It all became clear. What could be better than to have your wife done away with at sea in a parasailing “accident”. The body would never be recovered. He’d save a lot on funeral expenses if there was nothing to bury. He’d have an alibi — tending Ethan on the beach and dutifully awaiting my return. Bonus — anytime he wanted to visit his wife’s gave he’d have to visit Hawaii. What could be better?
Eric teased me all the way to the check-in point. We were running a bit late so there was no time to turn back. The boat was waiting for me.
I kissed Ethan and Eric goodbye — hoping it wasn’t for the last time. Before I knew it we were off. I was still trying to believe that I was on a boat with six other people, none of whom were related to me, and they expected me to go really high in the sky on a kite, and worse, then I had to come back down.
I was totally nervous. As our boat raced out to open water my teeth were clenched, my mouth was dry, and I had no sense of humor.
My turn to sail came quickly. Before I had the chance to jump overboard I was wearing a harness, standing on the back of a boat with an inflated parachute flying behind me. The captain told me to sit into the harness and simultaneously he kicked my feet out from under me and flipped a switch which released 400 feet of line. I WAS AIRBORNE.
I was very nervous but quickly the calm blue sky and exhilaration took over. It was so peaceful. When I was first released from the boat I felt like it was speeding away from me.
One of the things I feared most — other than a horrible death at sea — was the sensation of falling but the sail was so smooth that my fears were soon mostly forgotten. I could sometimes feel the tow line tugging me, pulling me in wide circle. Looking down I could see reefs in the water. I flew over the top of boats. I felt like I was higher than some of the hotels. It was so quiet — almost reverent.
My ride was quickly over but not my joy. I had done something daring and exciting. It was wonderful and although Eric deserves a lot of credit for making me do it, for knowing I needed an adventure, it was still my little victory.
Redemption
We went to the Utah County Fair last Saturday. It was just up at UVSC, so it was nice and close to home. In the event center (the basketball arena), there were lots of booths down on the floor. When we came in, Ethan saw a booth with balloons and worked his way all the way from the top to the floor and through the booths to that one.
Some clowns at another booth were doing balloon animals, and one made Ethan an apple. I have to say that so far as balloon-tying goes, an apple must be the first trick they learn. Sure, it looked a lot like an apple, but it just wasn’t very impressive.
There was a petting zoo outside. Sometimes I expect Ethan to get more excited about some things. Oh, animals… and look I can climb up on the fence and jump off these bales of hay. It’s like he doesn’t know that animals are novel and rare and a fence and hay aren’t. I guess it takes a while for commonplace things to become common. He also wanted to stomp in the animals’ water, and kicked a couple of pigletts.
There were rides, too. In fact, they looked like they were the same ones that were at the Summerfest, including The Car Ride.
We took him over to it to see if he might be interested, and he seemed to be. Fortunately, the place wasn’t busy and there was no line for tickets. We told the teenage attendant, “We’re not sure if he’ll go for this…” We put him in a car, and I walked around to the other side so he could see one parent on each side.
The ride started, with Ethan as the only rider, and he just broke into the biggest smile and his parents’ hearts just melted. He was laughing and smiling so big that I nearly let some tears go.
This time Ethan cried when we took him out, and the only way we managed to console him was to also let him ride the train.
He rode the train, but it wasn’t as good as the car – he decided the ride was over after a while and tried to climb out while it was still moving. Because of that, the ride really was over. I hope the little girl that was riding didn’t feel shorted.
Love,
Copyright � Eric Smith, 1989-1998, All rights reserved.