February 29, 2004

Another Good Pounding
Maui, Hawaii

As you're probably aware by now it's been absolutely "dissing pown" since we arrived here in Hawaii. We were due to take a trip up the top of a volcano here on the island of Maui but sadly the trip was rained off. Still, we didn't come here to hike to the top of a lava spewing mountain. Nah, we came here to tan! (Well, Heide came here to tan and I came expecting to colour too; only I was expecting to colour like a freshly boiled lobster.) To do this we needed a trip to the beach and a break in the weather.

While it would probably be an exaggeration to call it a genuine "break in the weather," we did get a lull in the rain on Saturday afternoon. With all the urgency of folk expecting an imminent nuclear holocaust  we peeled off our wet weather clothes and got into something more suitable for the beach.  Knowing that the fair weather probably wouldn't last for long we decided that rather than try and find a beautiful sandy beach we'd take whatever was on offer locally. It turned out that the local beach was made of cooled lava and was covered in masses of debris washed up by the storm. Sadly, I'm not a zoologist so I can't tell you exactly what these creature were. Except that some were coral, some were in shells, some looked like black spiky things that would really hurt you if you stood on them, some were definitely crabs, some looked like a cross between a rolled up octopus and a thistle (picture that if you can) and one looked like an eel with an oversized head. I guess the head of this "thingie" was really no bigger than large thumb, albeit a thumb that had been swollen by a direct hammer hit. However, his mouthful of teeth was impressive. They were a pretty nasty looking set of pearly whites. I suspect that if he (of course it could have been a "she" I may have liked what we found but I didn't check it that closely) had grown to maturity (assuming that it hadn't already) those gnashers could have done some serious damage to the hand of some unwary snorkeller.

Later we found a small and deserted sandy beach (everyone else knew the lull in the weather would be short) where it seemed that the golf balls from every wayward drive on the pacific rim had washed up. Either that or a container load of Wilson golf balls had gone down in the storm. It kind of makes me wonder what the movie "Castaway" would have been like if Tom Hanks had found 6 dozen Wilson golf balls instead of a volley ball. Probably just as cruddy as the actual film and with just as much product placement for FedEx but with a twisted, and all too close, extended Wilson family sub plot. On reflection this would have been a vast improvement on the screen version we were subjected to.

The next day was scheduled to be a trip to the beach, organized by the hostel. The surprising thing  is that the weather really cooperated. It was a beautiful day. The collected and decidedly motley crew, met early and took a trip to the booze shop. After all, what's a gang outing to the beach without a few cases of beer? The folk from the hostel; chauffeurs, guides and volley ball court (is that what you call the playing surface in volley ball?) "setter uppers" did a great job. But who wants to play on the beach when the ocean was so inviting? Well to some it didn't look inviting at all on account of the ludicrously large waves which were breaking about 30 feet from the shore but it definitely was a beautiful colour. To me, it looked so appealing that I only had time to enjoy one  swift beer before charging in to the churning surf. It was really amazing. It was like running into a giant washing machine that has been set to a perma-spin cycle. It battered me. Being a fool I couldn't get enough of this; I hadn't had a good slapping like it since the Turkish bath. (To read about the Turkish bath, use this link: November 22, 2003) It was intoxicating (remember I'd only had one beer so I wasn't intoxicated) I was getting dumped repeatedly, my head getting involuntarily buried in the sand like some freakish sea ostrich. I just had to get more. To do so I had to go a little further out to the even larger waves. Oh and I got more, much more. I was being bashed like a seal pup on a Canadian ice flow. It was terrifying and terrific at the same time. The only downside was feeling the massive undertow moving me from the beach, my ale and Heide, who had wisely decided to wait and see if I made it out alive before committing herself to the waves.

When I made it back ashore, unsure if I'd experienced something utterly exhilarating or one step short of suicide, I noticed that Heide had already turned a fine walnut colour. This only served to alert me to the fact that all my sun lotion had washed off and I was, in the oh so sweet words, of the hostel manager "looking like a beacon" (cheers Sarah you really know how to make a guy feel  good about himself!) After a reviving beer or three I was ready to play some volley ball. Actually that's not entirely true, I was ready to throw myself all over the beach while some around me played volley ball. With very little help, and no doubt some hindrance (despite some very cool dives and a sandy body) from me, we managed to win. To the victors the spoils - so more beer it was!

Heide meanwhile had somehow browned even further. Surely she was smearing herself in mud while I was away. It was the only plausible explanation for the vast colouring difference between us. To expose this subterfuge I made sure she was ready to brave the waves. She was, and she too got carried away and damned near washed away by the huge waves that pounded us. Sadly I must report that the colouring Heide boasted was in no way related to mud. We played in the waves for quite some time before retiring to the beach to watch the sun go down and sip the last few beers. A really fantastic day was had by all.     

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This Page was last update: Thursday, May 27, 2004 at 7:47:39 PM
This page was originally posted: 3/3/2004; 4:03:06 PM.
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