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.”
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.
