The Fish Man Visits Hawaii…..Part II

by Tim Boelema

Day 2
Their internal alarm clocks told them it was time to get up at around 5:00 a.m. Hawaii time. Of course, it was 11:00 a.m. back home. The Fish Man and Mrs. Fish had decided to visit Waimeia Canyon today. It was touted as the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific” and they were told that early in the morning was the best time to see it. Apparently, the mountain where the canyon is located is one of the rainiest places on earth and the clouds would cover it by mid-morning. They showered and flipped through the brochures on Hawaii again. He searched the yellow pages one more time while Mrs. Fish was in the shower. He was going to be out of luck on this island, but somehow hoped that the yellow pages had changed overnight.

1^st Aquarium Sitting
On their way out of the hotel, they stopped around the corner from the bar they had eaten at the previous evening to pick up some more brochures from a stand. Lo and behold, right there in front of his eyes was a large aquarium.

“This is the stuff dreams are made of,” he thought.

He had pictured Hawaii as having aquariums everywhere filled with the very best marine specimens. After all, this is where these fish come from and these people really know what it takes to maintain their aquariums in the very best fashion!

He was crushed when he saw a sickly looking Yellow Tang and an even worse Koran Angel were the main inhabitants of this box of water. Both showed several signs of lateral line disease. He knew they were not long for this world. The aquarium was nice. It was a cube shaped tank about six feet tall including the stand and canopy. It could be viewed from all sides and the filtration system was nicely disguised by lots of coral pieces. But the fish were awful!

“This is worse than back home,” he insisted.

“Another myth is vanquished,” he moaned. It would take him some time to recover from this dose of reality.

Let’s Go Find a Big Hole
The Fish Man and Mrs. Fish were soon on the road headed for the mountain and canyon. They would find a restaurant on the way, have breakfast and then continue on. Expecting to see a Denny’s of some other such establishment, they were quite surprised to find no restaurants along the way. Well, there was just that one place, but he was sure it didn’t serve breakfast.

“Let’s stop and check anyway,” Mrs. Fish strongly suggested, “I know what you’re like when you don’t eat!”

Too stubborn to go back, the Fish Man kept driving. We’ll go see the canyon first and get breakfast afterwards, he declared, still hoping a Denny’s would magically appear.

The road to the canyon took forever to go nowhere. It snaked up the side of the mountain and they hoped no cars were coming from the other direction, because it was very skinny. They laughed about Mrs. Fish’s sisters’ earlier description of the road as having “Hair Sharp Curves.” They knew she meant hair pin curves, but they were always amused by her sisters’ fusion of the English language.

“I’m going to write a book about all of her sayings,” Mrs. Fish laughed. “It will be a best seller!”

They reached the canyon after about 30 minutes. There was only one other car in the parking lot and they proceeded up a short set of stairs to an observation area. The view was breath-taking. He was surprised at how big the canyon really was. The mountains were a beautiful iron-red which matched the stains on the carpets of the car. They took the usual pictures. Of course, he had to set on the guard rail that kept everyone from falling into the canyon. He knew she was afraid of heights and that this act would get a rise out of her. They made several stops as they headed even further up the mountain. Each stop provided a little different view of the canyon. Deciding that 4 or 5 angles of the same thing were enough they gave up the trek to the top of the mountain. They would later come to regret that decision because if they had continued they could have gotten a view of the other side of the island. The other side was not accessible to vehicles and the best view was from the top of the mountain.

They found an easier and quicker route as they headed back down the mountain. There was only two ways to get up the mountain and of course, they had taken the wrong one the first time. Pulling into the restaurant the Fish Man was sure they didn’t serve breakfast but they encountered a native Hawaiian wielding a 3 foot long machete. Warily eyeing the man, they pulled into a parking space. They were greatly relieved when the man smiled and started cutting thick flower stems from the lush bushes surrounding the property. These 3’ to 4’ stems were thrust into five gallon buckets filled with water and used as decorations in the restaurant.

“For a minute there I thought we were goners,” he joked.

“You’ve been watching too many movies,” she returned. She couldn’t admit that the same thing had crossed her mind.

What A Great Guy
After a breakfast of banana pancakes and grits (the owner was a southern transplant), they were off for a day of shopping and sightseeing. The fast-paced day and jet-lag were soon catching up to the Fish Man. By dinner time he really just wanted to go back to the hotel and crash. The seafood buffet would even be acceptable if it meant he didn’t have to drive any more. Mrs. Fish had other ideas though. She wanted to go to Poipu Beach which was still about 20 miles away. He was sure he would pass out, but he always wanted to do what would make his wife happy. So, off to the beach they went.

They ate dinner at a restaurant with a great view across from the beach. The food was great and they passed a little time evesdropping on the patrons around them. This is always a fun thing to do, so they did it often. The Fish Man was really starting to think he was going to drop due to exhaustion, but they had to check out the beach area. Who knows, they might even see some fish.

The Reward For Being A Great Guy
The beach itself was more like a giant lava flow that projected out into the ocean like two long piers. Between the piers was a little lagoon with a sandy beach much like the lagoon on Gilligan’s Island minus the trees. They took off their shoes and waded in. The coral sand here was the closest thing to Lake Michigan sand they were used to seeing. As they waded around the lagoon, the fish man began eyeing the lava flow on the other side. It was quite flat – just a couple of feet above the water line. The surf was splashing over the end and seemed to get swallowed up inside of the rock. He could hear tidal pools calling his name and it was a voice he couldn’t resist. His pace quickened as he was lured toward the rocks. His destination revealed over one hundred tide pools all slightly different than the next. Some were shallow, some were quite deep and when the waves crashed over the rocks they all seemed to be connected by a huge river system. The water would flow from one pool to the next weaving it’s way through the cracks in the rock. Even more exciting than the pools was the life they contained. Lots of damsels, blennies, goatfish, urchins, snails, shrimps and crabs. He was overjoyed to see baby Convict Tangs and baby Yellow Tangs. This was better than a whole pot of coffee for waking up. The Fish Man felt no hint of being tired any more.

“Some serious time could be spent here,” he thought. “I wonder if my wife would consider coming back tomorrow too?” The Fish Man knew there would be no way this could happen so, he didn’t even mention it.

Mrs Fish joined him again in his exploring although she soon tired of it and began taking his picture as he leaned over each pool. He was sure that somehow she was going to use the pictures to make fun of him when they got back home. It was a good thing that he had such a great sense of humor.

Back at the hotel, Mrs. Fish made reservations for a catamaran and snorkeling excursion for the following day. Still not having completely shaken off the queasiness from the plane ride, the Fish Man commented, I’ll probably toss my cookies but who cares, these people will never see me again.”