After a five hour hike through various Lava fields from naked Pahoehoe to withered trees strewn across splintered rock, Lipoa and I walked along the jagged coast till we approached the steaming cliff. Just as we passed a stark neighborhood built on the highly affordable sulfurous land adjacent the Volcano, rather aggressive rainfall began, luckily rain in Hawaii is never too cold. The Lava looked like scarlet ribbons running down the black rock into the ocean where steam plumed along the beach. It reminded me of birth, seeing the earth give out such a powerful yet somehow seemingly vulnerable part of it’s self into the crashing sea. It was mesmerizing. We found a shorter trail on the way back and ended up on a small, remote road somewhat far from our vehicle. We hitched a ride on the tailgate of a truck pilled with Noni fruit, which for those who don’t know, do not have the most pleasant odor, but it was a ride and the friendly driver took us all the way to the Kava Bar where we had started our hike. With the sun high overhead, it was nice to end our volcanic experience at a place with fresh Acai and cold water.
“I’m glad I’m not one of those people who get’s seasick.” That’s what I said to Hank and Makana as we began our crossing to Molokai. About 15 minutes later I was nauseous, sitting on the very tip of the bow, afraid I might be sick any second. Luckily, I remained only moderately seasick. We stopped at a small island just off the coast of Molokai called Kaohikaipu, or Turtle Island, where Hank, Makana, and Mike speared a few fish. When Hank got back near the boat he pointed his spear at a reef shark, trying to steer it away from his fish. The shark swam away only to return with five more sharks that surrounded him. Needless to say he got back on the boat immediately.For the next two days we anchored in one of the most breathtaking places I have ever been, with a perfect view of West Molokai’s heart shaped valley and its many waterfalls and the tallest remaining sea cliffs in the world. Hank and Makana helped me spear my first fish, sadly it didn’t stick. Rufus surfed about nine hours the second day and became The Man on the trip before he made outrageous curry with fresh caught fish. Hank played Stand by Me surprisingly well on ukulele and the rest of us accompanied. The stars were sharp, the ocean a beautiful gradient of blues and greens, and the company unreserved.