Waikiki Does Thanksgiving

I am walking on the sand at Waikiki at 9 a.m. To the left is the pale aqua milkiness of the sea. And about a thousand tourists playing, everywhere I look. To my right is the densely packed hotel playground area of the Sheraton. Pools, chaise lounges, fake waterfalls, chairs, snack bars, showers and toys of all kinds are stacked and ready for everyone to have fun, everyone to indulge in tropical water play.

It's Thanksgiving Day today. I am on a morning walk after an açai bowl with good coffee at Honolulu Coffee Roasting Co. Waikiki Beach itself seems happy, screaming, all of it posing for pictures. Girls are signing up for outrigger canoe rides, surf lessons and stand-up paddling. Little kids with floaties on their arms run in and out of lapping wavelets. Japanese ladies, sun phobic, are dressed from head to toe in dark fashionable clothing and carry parasols to shield their pale skin. Business has not slacked off at all for the feast day, probably because a good number of tourists have no idea what Thanksgiving is. Many are from Japan, Korea, China, Germany and Italy.

Waikiki is a big backyard pool, a safe and energetic playground rocked by a gently surging ocean. It is so iconic and so easy, a place to be out in nature without really knowing nature at all. You just go play and have a good time, no matter who you are. It's like you're living in a post card all the time, with "Aloha" written up in the sky in red and gold lettering.

As long as you are at the beach in Waikiki you can ignore the whole world, all its problems and anything that used to be important back home. Refreshingly warm water - not too warm - and puffing trade winds are a balm for the child in your heart. Just play and play and play some more. Live the simple life at the beach. On Thanksgiving, your sense of play is in some way a form of gratitude, I suppose, employing the health and vitality that you were given at birth. It sure beats sitting indoors in the cold, worrying about difficulties and feeling burdened by responsibility all the time.

I walk to the Royal Hawaiian to find quiet peace in the inner gardens, take a look at the fine panama hats in one of the shops on the grounds, consider one for $450 and decide I have become delusional for even considering a hat like that - even though I look fabulous in it, I must say - and walk back to my hotel, watching people along the way. It's still early in the day, and it's possible these out-of-towners will enjoy traditional food later in the afternoon, but nothing I am seeing right now indicates that is even a remote possibility.

My six-block walk takes me past the Apple store where a line of maybe 12 customers is being herded into a very straight queue before the store opens, an employee exerting his line-forming skills in a loud voice that surprises me. I'm glad I'm not in line; it's a different kind of gratitude than I'd been considering just a moment before. So-called Black Friday, an ominous term recently coined, is tomorrow.

Finally back at my hotel, my husband and I gather up our things for the holiday meal, drive over to Kaimuki to our family's house and commence chopping, slicing, stirring, baking and otherwise preparing our fine feast. Friends come over at 4, I meet Noah, age 2 months, and I reacquaint myself with his parents. They are probably going to earn a prize for most loving and alert parents of the year. The meal is delicious, conversation and games are fun, and I am grateful over and over again to be right here, right now, in this least likely version of the pilgrim's first celebration.

Waikiki Beach: Go Play

Waikiki Beach is a long sandy playground with lapping waves.  Go there.  Have fun.  People who will not have fun in Waikiki are desert rats who hate water and families.  That's probably it.  Of course, I don't really want to know who won't enjoy Waikiki.  I am only really interested - deep down - in swimming, diving, floating, splashing, snorkeling, paddling, and standing in warm ocean water.  I am interested in having sand to walk on with warm salt water swishing around my legs.  I want to see kids playing for hours in lapping little waves, building castles, canals, lumps and sandy blobs in the sand.  And I want to see old people strolling along or sitting together on towels, looking at the young people and remembering how it was when they were young in warm water together.  That's Waikiki.  It's pleasant and invites playful relaxation in a hundred different ways.

Of course, you can shop yourself into oblivion along Kalakaua Avenue, or you can jog or boogie board or surf or sail or canoe or sit at a bar and drink.  But, the real fun is directly connected to the ocean, the aqua blue rolling and swaying water that is shallow so far out into the distance that a tall person really doesn't have to swim for quite some way.

The air now in December is about 75 degrees and the water is about 76 or so, a little chilly at first, but easy to get used to.

Waikiki demands that you make big decisions about this:  Should I get into the water here, or would over there be better? When is sunset going to happen?  The problem is not if you will get in but when.  Locals get in very early at the little jetty pier and boogie board as soon as it's light out, stay in for an hour and then get out, rush home and get ready for work.  Or, they skip work and stay out longer or go surfing further out at one of the different breaks.

This morning we got up at about 7 a.m. and decided we'd better make the most of it and soak up tropical beauty while we still could.  I put on my suit, beach clothes, grabbed my beach bag and started walking.  Not sure where, but outdoors and close to the water was our goal.  Joggers, walkers, strollers, kids, and other moving humans were all out already, just like they are every day on Waikiki early in the day.  The beach has a magnetism, and people of all kinds just simply go there and look at it.  Just like us.

We walked north and revisited everything we'd seen the week before, except now there were more Christmas decorations splashed around here and there, none more tasteful looking than at the Moana Surfrider Hotel.  Its four fluted columns - Greek style - were wound with garlands and a huge silk-flower wreath including poinsettias and hibiscus adorned the front.

Duke's buffet breakfast is the best choice for breakfast along Kalakaua Avenue.  It's currently $14.95 for all-you-can-eat ample buffet including made-to-order omelets.  I chose sticky rice, papaya, lots of fresh pineapple, passion fruit-guava juice, Portuguese sausage and a few other items.  It doesn't take long before you see the sense in eating meals island style including frequent servings of sticky rice and fresh fruit.  We requested a table as close to the beach as possible.  Being there early helped a lot.  Dukes fills up fast due to the attentive friendly service and good prices for their tasty food.  We bought a handsome blue baseball cap afterwards.  

I couldn't stop admiring the ocean waves, the surfers, and the outrigger canoe rides going on.  The waves were nice at the outer break, about 3-4 feet.  A few drifty little rain showers wafted around on the morning trade winds ("the trades"), back lit prettily by sunlight.  A rainbow or two sprang into view and quickly disappeared.  The soft sound of surf swishing on the sandy beach and similarly swishing palm fronds was like a balm.  Don't take medication; go to a beach in Hawaii.  

After breakfast, we took our bag and walked along the firm wet sand until we found a nice sloping spot to continue watching everyone playing.  A young guy and his little daughter who was wearing a bikini walked into the water's edge, got on a paddle board and off they went together.  She must have been about four and already a little water bug.

I sat for about a minute and couldn't stand it anymore.  I had to get back in the ocean.  It was cool and refreshing, and rocking waves rolled constantly from beyond the reef half a mile out to lap languidly at the beach.  I doodled around in the water for as long as I had time for and then got out, but hated to.

Oh no!  Reality faced me; the final deadline to actually leave.  Ugh, it was so hard.  The trip had been so varied, so full of discovery balanced with beauty and peaceful relaxation.  I am realizing I didn't watch TV for two weeks and never missed it.  I didn't listen to anything but Hawaiian slack-key music with rare exceptions, and I - honest to God - did not hear any foul language for two weeks.

As we ascended up and away from Honolulu, the island gradually disappeared beyond clouds as if it had all been a dream, gone from sight but not from memory, ever.  Later in the flight, I lifted the window cover for a look outside and was met with a remarkable sight.  The ocean was far below an infinite number of small cumulus clouds edged in gold and at the horizon, the line between the clouds and the dark blue sky was one long rainbow streak.  It was as if all the rainbows in the islands gathered themselves like a sash and formed a band to guide us back home to the mainland.  How could I be sad about that?

Waikiki: Many Ways to Play

We are staying two blocks off of Kalakaua Blvd, the main stretch of the tourist mecca of Waikiki Beach. With such easy access to a wide variety of water toys, everyone ends up in the waves sooner or later.  We, for instance, obtained beach towels from our hotel desk, walked the two or three blocks to the beach and strolled along for a while looking for an area that offered easy access to waves (other areas have walled-in swimming where waves are blocked out) as well as no cigarette smoke, the right slope to the beach (has to be just to your liking), and interesting buildings to look at.  It sounds like we're picky, but we had a few places to choose between.  The Royal Hawaiian and the Moana Surfrider offer the most options for things to do, ease of access and protection from possible theft.  So, we set up our spot and fit right in.

We waded out into the rock-a-bye motion of the waves shortly after we slathered on a few handfuls of sunblock.  Hundreds of people were playing contentedly at whatever suited them, all ages, all happy.  Outrigger canoes, surfing classes, stand-up surfers, boogie boarders and plain ol' swimmers came and went.

Then a catamaran came sailing in. Ah! Now that looked very appealing. After watching them unload a set of tourists, we decided we needed to sail with them.  Come back at a bit before 5 PM and see the sunset, the beach boys said, dark and muscular, lithe as cats.  This boat was smaller than most of the others; the size appealed to us.  They would offer drinks, but drinking was not the main focus of the trip as most of the others do.

So, we set off with about eight other passengers and three crew and made our way out past the surf lineup under power.  Then, they cut the engines and the two sails were set.  We caught very light air, so we just doodled around peacefully with waves slapping the hulls of the vessel.  Slack key and Hawaiian favorites played on a sound system, and we watched kayakers, the other larger catamarans stuffed with people, shipping tankers on the horizon, and, of course, the sunset.

The sun went down in a flaming blaze of glory, lining clouds with a thin crisp of gold around all their edges.  The gold reflected off the thousands of windows in the tall skyscrapers on Waikiki; they looked like gilded tiles from a distance.

After an hour of lolling about with sunset soaring and then waning gradually, we motored back to the beach, landed and disembarked.  Now we have hit vacation mode, just as if someone beamed Time To Vacation Now! into our minds at last.  Tomorrow, we'll take the top down on the convertible and head to the north shore, far from the city.