Where Rock and Water Meet

When I (Marsha) think of Big Island in the future, I think I shall think of water and rock – and the edge where the two meet.

We have seen several dramatic examples in the past few days.

Driving from the “dry” west side of the island to the “wet” east side on Wednesday, we stopped to visit Akaka Falls, a 422 foot sheer dropping waterfall. (First photo above.) Beautiful to look at, but impossible to get close to.    (https://photos.app.goo.gl/NVEewCkjHexuTPpJ2)

That same day, we followed a hint in the guidebook and took an old, narrow road through what would have once been sugar cane fields until it dropped us into the gulch formed by the Ninue River. At the bottom of the gulch was a 1930’s era stone bridge. We parked the car, clambered down about 15 feet to the riverbed, put on our water shoes, and happily started rock-hopping upstream. It has rained less than normal in the past few weeks, so the water was quite low, so we really did hop rocks rather than river walk. After 10 minutes we followed the curve of the stream and were rewarded with a beautiful waterfall of 20-30 feet cascading down into a wonderful swimming hole. The question was to skinny-dip or not to skinny-dip? Those of you who know us will know the answer. (Sorry, no photos!)

Yesterday, we stopped by another intriguing place where water and rock meet:  the heated pond at Ahalanui State Park.  This man-made, stream and sea-fed pond was apparently originally created as a simple, protected swimming pool just a few feet from where the ocean waves pound the dark lava that the shore is made from. (Second and third photos above.) But sometime in the past few decades, the interior plumbing of the earth changed and the spring water that feeds the pool now passes close enough to the volcano’s magma to be heated to a pleasant 90 degrees or so.

From the edge of the pool, you notice the beautiful clear water, and you can see the break in the sea wall that channels small waves of salt water into the pool. But when you put on your snorkel mask, you realize that you are accompanied in the water by hundreds of small fish — from 3″ to 10″, and at least 4 distinct species. They come close, but stay tantalizingly two to three inches from outstretched arms.

After the warm, gentle water of Ahalanui State Park, we continued down the coast to Kehana Beach, a black sand beach. This is one of the places where lava that has been pulverized by the waves is swept back up onto the shore, creating the black sand. The ocean was “calm” — meaning the waves were cresting only 3-4 feet high.

This is where I made my first major mistake of the trip. Mike and I went into the water with our glasses on, meaning only to get in waist deep. I was enjoying the water just a yard closer to the shore than Mike when I saw a larger wave coming. I warned Mike, who was just far out enough to ride the swell up and down before it broke. I however, was caught in the churn, turned at least a full somersault underwater, managed to find my footing on the shifting bottom, and stood up safely — without my glasses.  Sigh. Thankfully, I packed a second, spare set of glasses, so my vision was quickly restored. And so is my healthy respect for the power of where water and land meet.

Finally, as reported in the previous blog entry, we made a pilgrimage out to where the molten earth from the volcano meets the sea. (Fourth photo above).

As we follow the news of the devastation Hurricane Irma is wreaking, I came away from the day with awe at the raw – and often beautiful – power of mother nature.