Vacation in Hawaii, Part Two - June
Here you'll find us posing like damndable tourists in Kealakekua Bay,
where Captain Cook first landed when
he "discovered" the islands. In fact, I'm pretty sure the
monument is that tiny spec just over my right shoulder.
Here's a view without our mugs gunking it up.
And here's what the view would look like if you were hiding in the
weeds hoping to mug somebody, or maybe
just scare them something good.
One of these photos is a close up of lava and the other is of a
leaf. Can you figure out which is which?
Yes, apparently there are German tourists in Hawaii too. It seems
we just cannot escape them.
These little greenish-orangish-yellow finches are everywhere, and damn
Roosters that cluck around the edge of the road are also cute.
As are geckos. These green little bastards are everywhere, and I
spent more time than I dare admit trying to
get good photos of them. Of course, the three best, seen here,
were all taken by Chelsea.
Hey look everybody palm trees!
Pu'uhonua 'O Honaunau, otherwise known as the Place of Refuge.
Condemned lower caste native Hawaiians
were sometimes given a chance to make it ot this location and be
absolved by the priests as a last chance
before being executed.
I presume these are accurate representations of what the priests looked
Chelsea mimes how she might react if she found outshe had walked in the
shadow of the king and gotten
condemned to death for it.
I wonder if Eileen still loves Chris or was it just a passing
fancy...oh wait, that's an infinity symbol so obviously
This is spelled out in coral shards, but doesn't it look kinda like
bones? Which would be totally wicked
awesome, you know, if it really were bones. Metal woo!
More hot turtle-on-seabed action.
One of these three is Chelsea...if you picked the one on the right, you
Right next to this joint was one of the best snorkeling spots on the
island, at least according to Bryan and
Chelsea who weren't too chicken to actually go out here.
Hardened lava...maybe not as comfortable to lay on as white sand.
Speaking of lava, did I mention there was a lot of it on this
So much lava, that it made us pull over to the side of the road to eat
potato chips and oatmeal cookies. Now
that is a lot of lava.
We drove to the southern most point of the island, creatively named
South Point, which also happens to be
the southern most point of the United States. And don't let those
bastards at the Key West tourism board tell
you any different, the jackals.
It's a long, bumpy drive out there, a drive littered with broken dreams
and/or busted wind mills.
I'm going ot go out on a limb and guess these folks had a rougher ride
down to the point than we did.
Lots of wind and crooked trees once you finally make it to the
point. Oh and lots of cows too, who don't seem
to mind the wind or the crooked trees themselves.
The view from the end of Broken Road, which was in fact a road that had
just broken off into the sea.
There were a bunch of kids jumping off of the cliffs into the blue
water down at the end, and then clamoring
back up these rickety ladders and doing it again.
They would also jump through this hole, at the goading of this crusty
old surfer who was hanging out in the
area for seemingly no other reason than his own personal goal of
getting as many people to jump in the hole
We took no part in all the jumping nonsense.
Chelsea recieved the business end of the wind while we are out there,
as shown here in diagram A.
It's a little known fact that a case of winditis will cause the
sufferer to temporarily turn "metal as shit".
See if you can find the palm tree in the picture.
One of the infamous black sand beaches on the island. Infamous
because it gunned down a number of
notorious mobsters a number of years back in Chicago.
Most of what makes it up ain't sand, per se. Unless maybe you are
a giant, and then I suppose it would
seem like sand.
This coconut has seen better days. Damn hippies.
Another of my very favorite photos of the trip, this time of some
seaweed attached to the lava; again, reminding
me of some sort of magical goblin valley, the sort of valley you'd
never want to wander down alone at night.