I am sitting here, needing to leave in five hours to get to the airport and return to Japan. Madness. Looking forward to it, actually, but I’m sure I will be missing this vacation soon enough!
I finally did get a chance to do that hike, and it was perhaps the highlight of the trip. Walking out, watching the humpback whales leap out of the water right next to the horizon, watching dolphins jump over each other in perfect synchronicity, watching the waves crash over the volcanic rocks below me. Stopping here and there to explore tidepools or caves. Having to steel myself to cross a bridge consisting of a single timber precariously balanced over a chasm. I saw wild albatrosses feeding their young; chicks the size of their parents. I walked on the only native and protected sand dune environment on the island out to the skinny westernmost point of the island where you can stand on a small jetty of volcanic rock and have the waves breaking on both sides of you.
Sitting there at the edge of the world with the oldest of the major Hawaiian islands crouching on the horizon under a blanket of clouds, I am surprised to find that I have been sitting not 5 meters away from a member of the endangered monk seal population. Formerly numbering about 50, now growing in population to around 500 or 1000. I am illegally close to him. If I am caught, I will face a fine and prison time. But there is no one around for miles, so I relax and converse with him in silence. He has been attacked by a shark. A tiger shark by the size and the shape of the bites. He is missing a pectoral flipper, but seems to have taken it in stride.
This is the most remarkable beach… the sand is not sand at all, but bone-white coral shards, smoothed into round, palm-sized pebbles that are rough enough to keep from sliding over each other when I walk on them. They hurt my feet; remind me of Taiwanese foot massages. I also see a giant sea slug. The older brother of the two I tried to rescue earlier in the trip.
After an hour of sitting there, seeing this place as hard as I can, I head back, scanning the darker lava for other monk seals. I am not even surprised to find another one there, just on the other side of the rock that my shark-bitten friend was lounging on. The third monk seal of the trip, the fourth of my life.
I body surf on Makaha Beach on the way home, knowing full well that there is a great white shark out there today, preying on the dolphins and seals that I have been communing with all afternoon. He won’t bother me here, though, I think. And he didn’t.
A man made blow-hole, glass on the ground, the way these mountains look after all this rain… It is impossible to describe, and infinitely frustrating that way. The whole trip has been that way a little. Other stuff happened too, Hanauma Bay, dinner with my uncle, a trip to an American club, my last ever goodbye to The Contortionist, bookworm-infested paperbacks. All impossible to explain in writing, I know, but these little journalings have been my humble attempts to capture some of this month-long journey abroad to my home.