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Page 2
I'm glad we did just that.
With the car to myself for a day, I wedge my 12-foot rental surfboard into the back seat and out the front passenger window. Today I will emulate the Hawaiian surfer girl. Determined to surf (but not without other surfers to warn me of rocks) I set out for Kona Coast State Park, a surf spot recommended by the surf shop owner. The road to the park isn't for the timid driver, snaking for a few miles over black lava beds. Interchangably smooth and crumbly lava is the only scenery. Suddenly I am the delicate Mars Sojourner, creeping slowly over uncharted terrain, hoping my tires won't bust. Ten miles an hour is top speed. Kona Coast is one of the least visited beaches on the island, despite its location eight miles north of touristy Kona Village. The sand is smooth and white, the breezes warm and the vistas spectacular, especially when the humpback whales swim by. The next beach north, however, is where the locals, surfer types, mothers (some carrying infants), backpackers and other intrepid visitors go. Here the sand is whiter and more pristine than Kona Coast. The contrast between white sand, black lava and blue ocean startles the eye. I feel special to be among the few here. But no surfing today. The Pacific ocean could be mistaken for a warm bath dyed cobalt blue. There are no surfers anywhere. But I wasn't about to hike back to the car to wedge the surfboard back inside just yet. The water proved simply too enticing. Swim time. The white sand beach is backed by a grove of trees and an old abandoned bungalow painted red, where I met the park ranger. A happy fellow, he explained his job was to shut the gate at dusk. That was all. He stared out at the water, even while chatting with me. He pointed to a large rock about 20 yards out in the water. He said superstitious folk call it Wahine (woman) Rock, and believe it holds special powers. Once in a while locals see the water around the rock turn blood red. A few weeks ago, a shark circled Wahine Rock, according to local reports. The man continued. "People who swim out hurt themselves on it. This whole area is associated with the woman." As we parted, he urged me to make the long hike to the next beach, even more remote than the first. So, drawn by the ranger's description, the next day while my parents went on a marine cruise I returned. After crossing both beaches, I reached the towering grove of coconut palms, the trailhead to this secret beach. Soon I was stumbling over more Mars-like terrain seared by unrelenting sun. The rock trail leads through a mini-oasis of trees, then climbs white dunes covered in green before dropping onto the beach. The beach streches white, blue and empty. Like a child with a big secret bursting inside, I leapt down the smooth dune.
The copyright of the article Finding Big Island Treasure - Page 2 in Alternative Travel is owned by . Permission to republish Finding Big Island Treasure - Page 2 in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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