The island of Molokai is an unspoiled paradise — the last Hawaiian island that has held out against cruise ships and mass tourism — but for 100 years to more than 8,000 people, it was a prison.
On the north shore of the island is a secluded peninsula surrounded by high sea cliffs on three sides and an impassable coastline on the fourth. In the 1800s Hansen’s disease, commonly known as leprosy, became more prevalent. And as there was no cure, countries around the world created specific colonies for the ill people to live in. It was on this spot in Molokai in 1866 that King Kamehameha V created Kalaupapa.
Everyone on Waikiki Beach knows “Uncle” Billy Pa. At 76, he’s been surfing the shores in front of the Royal Hawaiian hotel for decades and was part of the original Beach Boys (not the band!) — the group of local surfers who brought the sport to the rest of the world.
Hanging loose with Billy.
In the 1950s, Billy and his friends, including the Duke, a legendary surfer considered to be the father of modern-day surfing, started teaching tourists to ride the waves to earn some extra cash, and he’s been here ever since, surfing and teaching for the Waikiki Beach Services.
Not only can Billy surf, but he’s also the best teacher on the beach — you might remember from earlier episodes that surfing is not my forte.
But unlike Puerto Rico, there was no storm coming in, and the waves on Waikiki Beach were calm and easy. With Billy’s help and encouragement, I got up on my first, second, third, and fifth try.
Billy’s boards on Waikiki Beach.
But perhaps even better than surfing with Billy is hanging out with him and hearing his stories of back in the day, when surfing was still relatively unknown and he, the Duke, and the other Beach Boys would bum around the sand, getting paid to do what they love.
“I started on an old redwood board,” Billy said. “We would all share the boards — if one person had a board, he was everyone’s friend. We would grab rides to the beach and surf all day, sometimes five guys sharing one board — and then one day we started getting paid to do it. It was great!”
It’s his experience and his love of his sport that makes Billy the best surf master out there. Not only can he help anyone get up on a board, but is also patient enough to wait all day if he has to. If you ever find yourself on Waikiki Beach in Oahu, look him up. You will regret it if you don’t.
When people visit Hawaii, they usually go to Oahu, Maui, or, for adventure, the Big Island. Every so often, those who can afford the Four Seasons will stop off at Lanai, the island where Bill Gates got married … but very rarely do you hear people say, “I’m off on holiday to Molokai.”
And the locals are just fine with that.
“We don’t want the cruise ships here,” local musician and ukulele godLono said. “It would ruin our culture like it has with the other islands.”
Hawaii is the land of Pele, the volcano goddess. Known for her temper, she can erupt and destroy — but in doing so, she also creates. All the islands started from a surge of Pele’s temper, but only on the Big Island can you still see daily vestiges of it.
Inside Hawaii Volcanoes National Park is the Kilauea volcano, the most active volcano on earth, which, according to the National Park Service, produces 250,000 to 650,000 cubic yards of lava per day — enough to resurface a 20-mile-long two-lane road daily. Thanks to Kilauea, about 500 acres of new land have been created on the island of Hawaii since 1983. And no one knows whether the current eruption will last another century or stop tomorrow.
The lava ate this road for lunch. (Photo: Paula Froelich)
While it is beautiful — and the Kilauea Caldera glows every night as if alive — it is also terrifying. An eruption last year threatened the town of Pahoa, and in 1990, the town of Kalapana was completely destroyed. By the coast, just north of Hilo, are the remains of old roads whose white and yellow lines still peek out from under lava rock, and if you drive even farther north, you can see where homes once stood.
Park ranger Jessica Ferracane showed me the Caldera before taking me to the belly of the beast — the lava tubes.
The tubes, which look like long caves, are formed “a lot like a river that ices over in the winter,” Ferracane says. “As the lava pours down, the edges of the tube start to cool and harden; eventually you are left with these tubes.”
Inside the lava tubes … it’s like a bat cave with no bats (thank God). (Photo: Paula Froelich)
Walking through the tubes is like walking on the inside of a volcano, and for a science geek (like me) it’s fascinating to see the inner workings of a landmass that many across the world refer to as “the gates of hell.”
Despite the ever-present threat, residents, aware of the danger but in love with the land, take it in stride.
“It’s part of life here,” Ferracane says, shrugging, “and we love it.”
Hawaii is a fascinating place for many reasons – least of which is the food. Where else in the world can you find spam musubi (a spam sushi roll the size of a nerf ball)? Or anywhere for that matter that still not only eats spam but may actually consider it a lost food group? Or take the favorite (and delicious) breakfast dish, the Loco Moco, whose name literally translated means “Crazy Booger.”
The foodie scene on the islands is a lot different than on the mainland — watch this video for the rundown of the top seven foods you may not find anywhere else… but should.
There is almost nothing more terrifying yet magical than being out in the Pacific Ocean, off the coast of Hawaii’s Big Island, with 18-foot-wide, alien-looking beings swimming backward loops just millimeters from your face.
One of the most fascinating things to experience in Hawaii is to take a night swim with giant manta rays. Although fierce looking — with triangular fins, horn-shaped cephalic fins, gaping maws, and long, sharp tails — they are not to be confused with some of their fiercer cousins (think sharks or Steve Irwin and his unfortunate demise).
“They are harmless — unless you dangle your feet and they accidentally hit you as they glide by,” Bob, my guide from Jack’s Diving Locker, said. “The largest of them can get up to 23 feet long and weigh 3,600 pounds, so it would be like getting hit by a Mac truck. But don’t worry,” he assured me, “that hasn’t happened — yet.”
A manta ray gracefully swims past a group of divers on a night dive in Kona. (Photo: Getty Images)
For someone who has a healthy respect for (read: fear of) the ocean, this wasn’t as reassuring as when Bob claimed sharks wouldn’t be present.
“Of course, sharks are in the ocean, but they usually stay away from the diving spots,” he said. “They usually feed at different times, and, well, no one’s been attacked on a dive — yet.”
Despite all the “yets,” I suited up — there was, after all, a 5-year-old boy on the boat, and I was not going to be outdone by a kindergartner.
The boats leave at sunset and cluster around the Sheraton outside of Kona.
“The night diving and snorkeling started when the Sheraton opened,” our guide said. “The lights from the hotel attracted the plankton, which brought the mantas.”
Divers and surface swimmers coordinate lights to attract the plankton that the manta rays feed on. (Photo: Jack’s Diving Locker/Facebook)
These days there are even more night lights. The divers bring beams of light with them and coordinate with the surface swimmers (that’d be me), clinging onto surfboards specially outfitted with more lights to create a column of light in the black darkness of the night ocean.
And then the giants come. At first there are one or two manta rays, gliding through the illuminated column, and suddenly you’re surrounded by the seemingly hollow beasts who, when they open their mouths, reveal the ocean through their two-foot-long gills.
A group of manta rays feeding at night. When they open their mouths, they seem magically hollow. (Photo: Getty Images)
It’s a silent ballet of creatures not even Cirque du Soleil could have thought up. The surreal experience is like watching aliens glide through the darkness, appearing from nowhere and disappearing, mystically, minutes later.
Afterwards, the snorkelers with me sat silent for a minute before looking around the boat in awe at the black ocean, hiding its marvels.
If you ever find yourself on the Big Island of Hawaii — go. It’s the experience of a lifetime.
Here’s a fun fact: My favorite word is “free.” As in, I like tofeel free (hence my penchant for muumuus); I love to be free (I am a crazy patriot — seriously, there’s nothing like traveling the world to make you really appreciate America); and… I luuuurve a freebie — as in free stuff. I’m the geek that freaks when I go to the supermarket and they have food samples — I will try them all, because you don’t have to pay for it. I also have a large collection of (free) pens I may never use, random makeup (gratis at most makeup counters), and hotel soaps. What can I say — it’s a trigger word for me. So when Icelandair announced it was giving free stopovers to anyone visiting Europe, I stood up and took notice.
I’d never been to Iceland — for some reason, I always assumed it was far, far away. But I was off to film in Greenland and decided to fly via Iceland instead of Denmark, due to said free stopover. It was one of the best decisions I’ve made this year. To start with, it is only four hours away — I live in New York, so Reykjavik is closer than Los Angeles. And with the dollar so strong right now, while Iceland isn’t free, it’s certainly not as expensive as it used to be.
But the best part? Iceland is a land where magic happens. As in magical people live there — and I don’t mean those Vikings roaming the streets of Reykjavik. (Although, for all you single ladies out there, yes, they are indeed magnificent.) If you don’t believe me, just ask an Icelander. According to one study, up to 72 percent of people in Iceland believe in elves, trolls, and the huldufolk, or “hidden people” — who apparently look just like us but live in a different dimension inside rocks, which open up (for them, not us) like a Harry Potter tent. I’mnot making this up. This is really what people will tell you in Iceland. (Note: Wait till next week’s A Broad Abroad episode when I interview the spokeswoman for all the elves!)
After spending just one weekend there, it’s not too hard to understand why people believe in elves and magic. Physically, it’s a crazy (in the best way possible) little island, with landscapes that just don’t make sense to the untrained eye. There are actual lava fields (the older ones, covered in moss, the “younger” ones — only a few thousand years old — still black), glaciers, soaring cliffs, black sand beaches, waterfalls, hot springs the color of frost, and mountains that rise out of flat, verdant fields. It’s a landscape that has inspired thousands of legends and brings to mind every fairytale you ever read as a child.
The entire island is an anomaly, and everything has a story behind it … usually involving elves. It is a place where your imagination can run free. It’s not a big island — you can drive around the whole place in a couple of days — but you can pack a month’s worth of living into a weekend if you do it right. So I now present what to see and do during the perfect stopover in Iceland. Everything is within 77 km — or two hours’ drive — of the capital Reykjavik, which in and of itself is a destination and should not be missed.
1. Seljalandsfoss Waterfall
Located next to the Gljufrabui falls in Hamragardar, which is hidden behind rock walls, Seljalandsfoss is unusual in that it can be viewed from 360 degrees — as in you can walk all the way around it. It’s a massive, 130-foot-high waterfall, and in the fields surrounding it are ancient Viking homes that date back more than 1,000 years. The scenery is like a cross between The NeverEnding Story, The Dark Crystal, andLabyrinth, three of my favorite movies.
I have been fascinated by the Dead Sea for years. King David took refuge there, Herod the Great made it the first spa in the world, and Sodom and Gomorrah were said to have been located on its shores. Almost everyone passing through Jordan and Israel goes to “take the waters,” and I’ve always envied the pictures of people floating along, looking like they haven’t a care in the world. So when I traveled to Jordan two months ago, I made my final stop the most relaxing one. I checked into the Jordan Valley Marriott Resort & Spa and made a beeline for the Dead Sea.
According to locals, the Dead Sea — so named because with 34.2 percent salinity, nothing can live in it — is like the Gold Bond ointment of lakes. Its waters and mud can do almost anything: clear up your skin, cure rheumatism, help asthma, clear up psoriasis… the list goes on.
After a hectic eight days on the road, I just wanted to relax. But you can’t relax too much. Across the lake is Israel and the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict. So close you could swim there. Although you wouldn’t want to.
“A few years ago, a couple came here to get married,” an employee at the Marriott told me. “Afterward, they were a little drunk, and it was at night, and they passed out and floated out to sea,” he said; the salinity of the Dead Sea makes it easy to float without effort. “They floated so far, by the time they woke up, they were in international waters, and Israeli army boats were speeding toward them. It ended up becoming an international incident.”
Not wanting to cause an international incident, I stayed away from the bar and read the rules, which include: don’t drink the water; don’t get water in your eyes, mouth, or nose; and shower before entering. I would come to accidentally break two out of three. It’s not that I wanted to feel saltwater burning down my throat or blinding me. But I was covered in drying mud and itching, so I figured I would wash it off in the sea. I screamed, water got in my mouth, I swallowed, and then I had to be led out of the water to a shower by my producer, Nicola Linge. Thank God for Nicola.
About two months ago — right in the middle of Snowmageddon 2015 — my pal Eric Ripert called me up and said, “We are filming an episode of my show [Avec Eric] in Puerto Rico — want to come learn how to surf with me?”
I took one look out the window and about half a nanosecond later said, “HELL YEAH!”
In hindsight, I don’t know why I thought surfing was such a great idea.
1. I get seasick at the drop of a rudder.
2. I have a healthy respect for the ocean and all living things within it. [Read: I am petrified of sharks. So what if there hasn’t been a fatal attack there since 1924.]
But I’ve always liked the idea of surfing. It just looks so cool — you know? My friends do it and say it’s like meditating on the water — and I love meditating … you just sit there! I’m GREAT at sitting!
So off I went.
I met Eric at Rincon Beach — the surf capital of Puerto Rico — and our instructor, Jen, from the Rincon Surf School all duded up in my new wetsuit (which of course I bought, as I knew I was going to be SO GOOD at this I’d need this wetsuit forever).
“I cannot swim very well,” Eric said. He was already starting to sweat. “I am nervous.”
“It’ll be fine,” I said. So confident. So cool. So… wrong.
A storm was blowing in — so even getting the 12 foot surfboard to the water was challenging … and then there were the 6-foot swells.
An hour later, Eric and I were clutching the sand on shore for dear life — he with a minor back injury, me with bits of rocks embedded in my shoulder and heaving my lunch out on the sand. (Remember my seasickness issue?)
