Disclaimer: Back in May of 2006, when I started posting about our vacation to the Hawaiian Islands, we were severely limited regarding photos I could share due to bandwidth limitations. Here in 2022, I’m updating these posts using the original image and text I shared, but I’m adding the rest of the photos I would have liked to share if bandwidth and storage had not been issues 16 years ago. 

While we are yet to visit Kauai, that’s tomorrow, I can’t help but think that Molokai is the most authentically Hawaiian island in the chain. The western rampage on the other islands is obvious, while things here seem to still be operating on islander time. If you want a sense of the place, just take a listen to the Hawaiian song E Hihiwai by the Rev. Dennis Kamakahi.

Our last day on Molokai, we were supposed to be kayaking on the coast and into a mangrove forest, but the low tide wasn’t cooperating with our scheduled ferry return to Maui.

Canceling the kayaking was a disappointment, but we made up for it with some more sightseeing on Molokai – the most peaceful island in Hawaii.

Here we are back at Kualapu’u Cookhouse, and I’m noticing that Caroline is taking notes about our trip; at this moment, I can’t say they’ve ever been transcribed onto the blog. This means there could be more details coming to these old posts in the future should we find this paisley-covered notebook. Of course, we squared our bill from the night before and, at the same time enjoyed a great breakfast made all the better because it was had on Molokai.

Should you want to visit the old leprosy (Hansen’s Disease) colony at the Kalaupapa National Historical Park, you’ll be traveling by mule or by foot. Sadly, we don’t have enough time to make the lengthy trek.

Yesterday, we made it out this way, but the lighting didn’t work out, and so here we are again on our way into the Pālāʻau State Park.

That’s the peninsula where you’ll find the Kalaupapa National Historical Park.

At the end of state highway 47, near Kalaupapa Lookout, is this famous phallic rock called Ka Ule o Nanahoa; I just call it Big Penis.

Seems that this horse enjoys its lower jaw being tickled.

If only Molokai could be preserved in the state it is right now, and that no further development could take place, this shouldn’t ever be the exclusive playground of billionaires, but isn’t that exactly what happens to perfect places when the only thing worth doing is giving greater value to all things in order for capitalism to continue to inflate the coffers that grease the wheels?

Apple bananas may be the greatest bananas we’ll ever taste, seriously better than anything we’ve ever had before.

Hawaiian hibiscus, I wonder if it makes a tasty version of the Mexican drink known as Agua de Jamaica?

Is this part of the 1/3rd of western Molokai (about 55,000 acres) that is in private hands? Cattle ranching, pineapple orchards, growing wheat, and at one time the world’s number one producer of honey, this incredible natural environment should be set aside in a trust to preserve it for future generations to remember what places look like without the destructive mindset of mankind to destroy what it touches.

We are at the Kapuaiwa Coconut Grove, a historic and dangerous place. The grove is historic as it is one of the last royal groves planted for a Hawaiian King and dangerous as those 10-pound coconuts acquainting themselves with gravity pose a significant challenge to your head to deflect one.

Would this really remain such an idyllic location if a massive dock were built here to park the giant yachts of the rich and famous? Why do we humans feel this overwhelming need to shit on paradise?

Just how does a tiny piece of driftwood buried in the sand find a way to grab hold of my pinky toe and bend it to being in a perpendicular state as compared to where it had been? Great, now I have a broken toe, my very first

Wow, there’s a sight: a dozen Hawaiians rowing single-outrigger canoes into port. These boats were likely the same kind that the Polynesians first sailed to this chain of islands some 1,600 years ago. Just consider this act of faith, 2,000 miles from the Marquesas, that was how great their belief was in navigation skills and the ability to capture enough food and water for the journey.

The day before, on the ferry to Molokai, we spotted some whales; today, on our way back, we saw a few dolphins.

On the right is the whale and on the left a svelt dolphin.

I should end this post right here by saying something about sailing into the sunset, but I still have a few photos I want to share.

Such as this one that’s seriously difficult to decipher, but it’s a Banyan Tree right in Lāhainā planted back in 1873.

This effect of turning things into silhouettes by white balancing my camera on the sun might make it look later than it is, but is nothing more than me hunting for an aesthetic. You’ll see from my last photo for the day that it was definitely light enough for other fun stuff.

Fun stuff as in one more opportunity for snorkeling on Maui. Dinner was at Cheeseburgers in Paradise before driving back across Maui for another night at the Banana Bungalow Hostel in Wailuku.

Disclaimer: Back in May of 2006, when I started posting about our vacation to the Hawaiian Islands, we were severely limited regarding photos I could share due to bandwidth limitations. Here in 2022, I’m updating these posts using the original image and text I shared, but I’m adding the rest of the photos I would have liked to share if bandwidth and storage had not been issues 16 years ago. 

Our second day on Maui started up at Haleakalā Volcano National Park near the summit of 10,023 feet, but not at sunrise, as some might think. It’s not that we are averse to waking especially early to be up here at the break of dawn, but that wasn’t part of what we bargained for to be here.

As a matter of fact, we would be taking off from here after the briefest of 10-minute visit which is all that our driver Mike allocated for this bit of sightseeing.

[This interesting-looking bird is a chukar partridge. Chukars originally lived in Asia but have been introduced to many countries as game birds. – Caroline]

You see, our adventure begins 3,000 feet below our current location.

Well then, here we are at the beginning of it all. Mountain Riders, the only company I could find that would let us ride down the volcano on an unguided tour, provided us with bikes with some heavy-duty moped brakes, helmets, gloves, rain gear if we wanted, and backpacks – for only $59 each! The reason we must start here instead of at the summit is that tour companies are not allowed to have their guests begin their ride from up there, so they start right here at the entrance of Haleakalā Volcano National Park.

Outfitted with our bikes and mandatory helmets, we began our 28-mile downhill coast. Good thing I had the forethought to snap this photo as it’s the closest to an action shot that I’d get today, not that I didn’t try multiple times to snap off some photos while barreling down the mountain.

Regarding the speed of our descent, we requested the self-guided option as we knew from the company’s literature that the ride was maybe 2 hours long, which sounded to me like a race with zero opportunities to stop for photos. Not that we were always moving along at a snail’s pace, but we did stop frequently to capture the highlights, such as our thrilling ride through the Fabulous 29’s, a series of 29 switchbacks where, at times, we hit speeds faster than the posted speed limit.

We glided past eucalyptus trees, and of course, we had to stop to savor their fragrance.

Is the chicken somehow the state bird of Hawaii? They are everywhere.

“Oh, might we get some kind of tropical yummy there?”I hear from Caroline, who obviously has her sights set on dropping in. “What is this, lotion with a passion-fruit scent? Yeah, we’ll take that.” As I’m writing this, the Sunrise Market is no longer in existence (it closed back in 2012), and according to Google Maps, the 8.4 acres might be for sale.

Here we are at 14934 Haleakala Highway, the halfway point and only about 14 miles from our destination.

Temptation was hard at work, begging us to snag this perfect specimen of pineapple that nobody could possibly ever miss. And we would have if it hadn’t been sitting behind the sign that sternly warned – NO TRESPASSING!

There were no such signs telling us to stay out of the taro patch; I guess nobody really cares about making poi.

Good thing we were naive about sugarcane otherwise, we should have grabbed a stalk of it and started chewing it up.

We reached Kaulahao Beach in Paia in the nick of time. Our tour company was getting worried about us because we’d been out so long. Well, maybe they should have informed us that there was a version of self-guided that could be too slow. I feel that it was with some reluctance that they even picked us up.

But our day wasn’t over, and the sea figures into what comes next. We had just visited Snorkel Bob’s in Kihei to rent some gear we needed.

Yep, it was time to finally get into the waters of Hawaii after being here on the islands for five days already.

Keawala’i Congregational Church down south of Kihei. Yesterday, when we were on the Road to Hana and circumnavigated the southern part of Maui, we could tell there was a road closer to the ocean, but we were running late, and so this afternoon, with sunlight still in our favor, we were able to make it out here.

Caroline dove into the ocean one last time today at Maluaka Beach south of the church.

Still out on the southwest shore of Maui with the island of Kaho‘olawe off to the left.

Goodnight, Maui; tomorrow, we must leave you as another island beckons.