Out of Waikiki, to the North Shore

We are in a mood to get out of the city, flee to rural Oahu today. Even though this is a medium-sized island, there is immense variety in terrain and climate. Wherever the tradewinds blowing across the Pacific for a few thousand miles suddenly slam up against a cliff, there is rain. Tall, dark jagged mountain cliffs block the moisture carried on the wind, sending it upward where it cools and tumbles, then condenses and pours down on the flanks of the mountains and plains further out. In contrast, the southeast side of the island, only a few miles away on the protected side of the pali, appears to look like the high desert of the southwest on the mainland. 

We decide to go to the north shore and circle the island’s perimeter starting with Haleiwa, the historic little town that has evolved from a plantation town to tourist attraction and gateway to surfing's mecca, the North Shore. On the north shore and areas that border it, life is surfing and surfing is life. There is solace, renewal and physical challenge out there in the salt water. It seems as if it is living, that ocean, but it is many forces of nature jostling for dominance, and we ascribe emotion to it. If nothing else, the ocean is intoxicating, I will give you that. 

Simply say, “north shore” to a surfer, and they know you’re talking about Oahu’s legendary surf spots. Lots of surf places can and do offer huge waves or beautiful swells, but this constitutes the beating heart of surfing, the one place where any surfer worth his or her salt will eventually find themselves gazing at the ocean, studying surf reports as they have never studied before. They all dream of paddling out for a spot in a lineup on the north shore, even if they can only handle a flat day like this one. There are many strata of surfers, the lowliest of them wobbling out on boards to try small waves, then paddling back to shore when the swells kick up, knowing full well that their skills don’t allow for head-high or overhead surf conditions. The waves the north shore are infamous for are big, thick 30- to 40-foot monsters that boom like thunder. It’s hard to imagine at the moment, but there are certainly a lot of galleries and stores stocked with images of wiry athletes charging down mountainous and glistening waves to prove that it happens. They seem to defy gravity just as cats do, exactly as lithe and graceful. 

Right across the street from the Haleiwa McDonalds, which looks very quiet, the Haleiwa Cafe is elbow to elbow with mostly large, white, not-a-chance-of-surviving-a-tiny-wave tourists, but a few locals (unruly hair, deep tans, surf shirts and board shorts) sit with friends here, too.  The food is hearty, nourishing and delicious. The women waiting tables are very good at their work. My breakfast burrito has a savory sauce that sets my mouth watering. I am grateful for the simplicity of it; it seems honest for some reason, perhaps because the cafe is very small and has evolved in response to the needs of hungry local athletes over a long period of time and stick with what nourishes instead of following trends and fads. 

I am glad to be away from Waikiki and the loud thrashing din there. We finish our meal and consider our route for the day. It’s possible to shop among many little boutiques and art stores here, but we will drive on further northeast and then south along the windward coast. This being the wet season, the sky is heavy and overcast but still warm. We are very comfortable in shirts and shorts. 

After a few minutes we begin to see roadside fruit stands and cars bellying up to them. The ladies at one stand have bagged fruit. They call out prices for bananas, pineapple, dragon fruit, tomatoes, corn and papaya in sing-song voices. No mangoes. I choose a pineapple, some corn on the cob and a bag of tomatoes. Thanksgiving is in two days. 

At Sunset Beach, the Vans Triple Crown of Surfing is setting up; it will also be held in turn at Pipeline and Waimea Bay. A huge crane is hoisting scaffolding into place to form the observation structure where judges will sit as well as the press photographers and officials. I can imagine the two-lane road we’re driving today will be an incredible crush of cars when the contest is going on. I’ve always hoped to see the waves heave up to massive heights, but the ocean has never cooperated while I’ve been on island. Someday. Certainly today looks like a riffled lake, a disappointment to competitors and fans all over the island.

We stop at one of many public beach parks to photograph and stretch our legs. There are a few other people around, but the moody sky is keeping most away from the shore today. A fresh pineapple snack is refreshing. Little red-topped cardinals as well as the ubiquitous and silly local doves call and flutter, alert for crumbs and morsels. Palm trees rustle in the steady wind, and they look like wild mops to me, upended by a temperamental giant. 

Traffic intensifies later on as we near Kaneohe, Kailua and Waimanalo. These are towns below the vertical pali that block the precipitation blown in on the shoulders of the tradewinds. The scenery is dramatic and tropical, vines climbing everywhere and flowers littering the ground. Driving is fairly easy to handle as most drivers on the island tend to move more slowly than in say, Southern California or Texas (where if you dare to use a turn signal, drivers behind accelerate past you with a devilish and pig-headed desire to obliterate you). Hawaii remains relatively mellow even as the population has increased, one of the reasons I love it. 

Finally reaching the southmost stretch of the island, we see wind-sculpted rocks, sere landscapes and turbulent waves thumping the shore. It’s rugged and beautiful, but seems to snarl with a nasty temper. The scenic overlooks near Sandy Beach give a good view of the dark teal water with its white foaming spray. The blowhole is going full blast, and little girls watching are giggling and screaming with delight. I am mesmerized and want to stand there watching for the rest of the day. 

At last we arrive back in the busy hive of Waikiki to rest and then join our family members later. (We’ve brought home leftovers from Maile’s Thai Bistro, a delicious discovery we bumped into in Hawaii Kai on the south shore.) The images of the day are jumbled, misted by restless waves and currents. So many people on one island, so much rock and such a tremendous ocean, all of it moving and alive, continually. 

No Place Like The North Shore

Waikiki is one version of paradise, if you like shopping and thousands of shuffling tourists everywhere, but the naturally gentle feeling of the air and water  make it feel a lot like perfection no matter how many people you see.  Waikiki and most of the leeward side of Oahu including the southern, southwestern and western areas from Hawaii Kai up to and past Hickam Air Force Base are thick with people and cars.  That includes greater Honolulu and neighboring communities, definitely Waikiki.

But, complain as you might about traffic density and human impact on the island, step into soft morning air and then into gently surging waves of ocean water that's about 77 degrees and your fussing stops.  It's so easy to fall in love with it.

Today, we walked from our hotel to the Moana Surfrider two or three blocks away, admired their lovely open lobby and veranda where you can have tea in the afternoon under the shade of a giant banyan tree, and then walked over to our favorite, the Royal Hawaiian Hotel.  Nicknamed The Pink Lady for the bubblegum pink color of the Spanish Colonial style of the original buildings, the hotel is surrounded by high rise modern structures where once she stood alone with tropical gardens all around her.  The nearest hotel was the Moana Hotel, both of which still appear far more stylish and beautiful than anything that has been built since.

We splurged on a delicious breakfast on the open veranda under the shade of pink umbrellas.  Gracious and excellent service marks the restaurant as well as the entire hotel as proud grande dame from a bygone era.  There is a hat shop on the property that sells fine handmade Panama hats.  I tried on my dream hat - a beautiful ladies summer hat that felt like a feather on my head and fit perfectly.  It's a hat that needs a hat box, a pretty dress, good jewelry and an estate to live on.  $200 is too rich for me.

After a quick walk back to the hotel, we hit the road north and then east to Kaneohe by way of Interstate Highway 3 (H-3).  Yes, there are interstates in Hawaii, but it's due to a technicality, I've heard, allowed because the highways connect federal lands together (military bases).  Yeah, I know.  H-3 is a spectacular 10 mile highway that goes from the leeward side of the island, through the high jagged peaks  by tunnel, and then suddenly out the other side where you skirt the mountain side and see the eastern, windward coastline, far below.  We drove that way just to get the view, which is stunning.  Then, winding north along the coast road with the top down on our convertible, we drove through small communities of a more rural quality and past roadside huts selling souvenirs and pineapples.

We continued all the way to the north shore where Sunset Beach, one of the main surfing areas in the entire world, is currently hosting the Triple Crown of Surfing for the next week.  I'd have loved to have sat and watched the waves and surfers out in the far break for hours, but we had to get going after a short while.  The best waves we saw were about head high there, breaking about a half mile out at most. I've never been lucky enough to see giant waves on the north shore, but when a big swell is on its way, the crush of surfers who head for the area is epic.  Parking becomes a horrible mess and spectators line the beaches high out of harm's way for miles.  I'd go anyway, just like all of them, to see the spectacle of such power and beauty.  Nearly everything about North Shore is surfing, made even more fabulous by the rugged open land and agricultural region of the whole north end of the island.  Distant high mountains and big cumulus clouds piling up in the west create quite a backdrop for the long tawny beaches and aqua-blue sea.

We stopped for a late lunch in historical Haleiwa and then drove home again, getting caught in rush hour traffic in the last few miles.  There seems to be no really good time to get to the north shore except very early in the morning.  Beaches have free access, some offer showers to rinse off sand when you're done and lifeguard towers.  I've been to the north shore a handful of times and I've never gone away unhappy.  There's always something beautiful you can never get enough of, and you always want to go back.  Always.