Kauai Protestors Block Ferry

August 30, 2007 | In Activism, Environment, Transit | 2 Comments

This is a continuation of “Why I Support a Ferry EIS.”

With the ferry scheduled to arrive at 6 pm last Sunday, opponents organized a press conference at Nawiliwili park at 4 pm. I arrived in time to hear a native Hawaiian blessing and short speeches by a county council member, Jo Ann Yukimura, and by our state senator, Gary Hooser. It was a small crowd of about 100 people, most of them with signs:

The park is adjacent to the seawall that extends into the harbor, providing a perfect view of the entrance to the harbor. The road that runs past the park and along the sea-wall is also the entrance (and exit) to the ferry terminal. Demonstrators were gathering at the park and then driving or walking down the jetty where they could wave signs at the ship and at the ferry terminal gate.

Update: Here is a map published by the Honolulu Advertiser showing the location of the protests in the harbor. The only problem is that it omits the key access road that runs under the park and along the jetty (colored in yellow on my correction). While this road has a gate at the turn to the jetty, it provides access for fishing and now for vehicles to the ferry terminal. This road obviously provided a perfect place for land-based protestors to wave signs at the ferry but also for surfboarders to access the water closest to the blockade.

Unfortunately, I had to leave early and I never saw the ferry on Sunday. According to the Garden Island article, the number of protestors grew to about 500, and more courageously, a dozen surfers paddled out to block the boat channel. The ferry entered the harbor, but the Coast Guard radioed for it to back off to avoid any accidents. Here’s a video from one of the protestors showing the surfers going out and the ferry backing up. Then the Coast Guard boats pick up or chase the surfers away:

The ferry docked an hour or two late (depending on the source) and then unloaded its passengers. Unfortunately, the vehicles needed to exit right next to the protestors and this led to confrontations, as shown at the end of the video above. I heard people were laying in the road, deflating tires, pounding on cars, yelling at their occupants, and arguing with police officers. Update: I also heard that drivers were advancing into the crowd of protestors. I dislike these actions from both sides because they create anger, and under the influence of the emotion, both sides become threatening and violent towards each other.

I do not support such behavior, and I hope organizers and participants in future demonstrations work to prevent it from happening again. The point was to block or further delay the passengers, which it did, but I’m certain that ferry opponents lost much support and sympathy as a result.

The next day, Monday, all of the ferry opponents felt empowered by those few surfers who managed to delay the ferry. Word was sent out again and protestors converged on the jetty around 5 pm. We heard the late news that a Maui judge had issued and injunction temporarily stopping the ferry to Maui, but not to Kauai. In any case, the ferry was on it’s way, I could see it on the horizon while driving to Lihue.

The first thing I noticed was that the police presence was much greater than the day before. The police closed the access road to prevent protestors from bring in cars, though seemed to be blocking the road themselves:

There is another access to the jetty road through the park, and I assume some protestors tried to bring a car and the police towed it away. The protestors in this picture are da big bruddahs (brothers) from the Polynesian Kingdom of Atooi, a local Hawaiian independence movement. I saw them both days at the protest, they say the laws of their government require an EIS for the ferry as well. They may also look big and tough, but they were all very friendly and peaceful when I saw them.

Despite the police and tough-looking guys, the area of the protest was calm, festive even. I went back to the car to get my sign and my daughter—it was my afternoon to baby-sit and we ended up seeing many children among the protestors. We walked to the end of the jetty where the main group was, staying with other families a short distance away from the noise.

By then it was past 5:30pm and the ferry had arrived at the harbor. However, there were even more surfers than the previous day already blocking the boat channel. The ferry was probably told not to enter, so it stayed outside the breakwater:

While the ferry was maneuvering outside the harbor, I got a good photo of the ship’s hull. I added the outline of the humpback whales roughly to scale to show how they could get hit. With a speed nearly twice that of any other ship currently operating, nobody knows if they can detect each other soon enough to get out of the way. There is also a video about the risk to whales with graphic images of whales killed by high-speed ferries elsewhere in the world.

This time, the Coast Guard was already deployed, using their big white cutter to support the little zodiacs. This view shows the whole harbor, with the breakwater on the right, the protestors in the channel, the ferry standing off, the Coast Guard cutter and zodiacs, and the Ninini point lighthouse in the distance. Behind the white cutter is the port tug boat. At first I thought the tug was waiting to bring in the ferry, but then I thought the ferry can go in on its own, so I’m not sure why the tug was out there.

Every now and then, another surfer would jump into the water from the jetty and the protestors would cheer him on. Seeing that the surfers were not moving from the channel, the Coast Guard tried to pluck them out with their zodiac boats. It was hard to tell what was going on from shore, so it’s not clear what the tactic was, whether they were just talking to the surfers, ordering them to leave, intimidating them with the boats or actually trying to pick them up somehow. Here’s a video I took, it’s 30MB:

Behind the protestors was the ferry terminal staging area, where cars wait to be loaded on the boat. It didn’t seem that full, and many of the passengers were out of their cars, watching the ferry and the protestors. I felt bad for these people, they were stuck behind the fence, waiting with no end in sight. I feel the ferry company lured them with $5 fares into their risky tactic of launching service before the court injunction. Maybe the company thought the threat of stranding passengers would give them leverage to keep operating, a sort of fait accompli.

After a while, the big white Coast Guard cutter moved over into the shipping lane, heading towards the protestors. It sort of gives the ferry an aura of a military escort, though you can see from the photo that all the guns were covered, fortunately.

On Sunday, there was a report that the Coast Guard used some sort of net to round up the surfers. I don’t know if a net was deployed again, but after a while the big cutter and the zodiacs pushed together towards the surfers, herding them mostly to one side of the channel, as shown in this 60 MB video:

While the surfers were mostly out of the channel, the Coast Guard boats were now in the way. But the surfers just stayed in the water and we couldn’t tell what was really going on. In this sort of stalemate position, a Coast Guard plane came in to land at the airport, and everyone wondered what kind of reinforcements they were bringing: negociators, divers, SWAT teams? Everybody was afraid the surfers were trapped and waiting to be plucked out of the water.

But then the tide started to turn, so to speak. While the channel was half-cleared, the tug boat motored back into the port, with big cheers by protestors who assumed it had given up on helping the ferry into the harbor.

Then some Hawaiian outrigger canoes paddled through the harbor and out into the channel, confusing everybody. At first the protestors thought they were saviors, the “big” boats coming to help. But they just paddled through and kept going out towards the light house. Then they came back and milled around, but never really stopping. Even from the news stories, it’s still not clear whether it was just paddling practice with some rubber-necking or if they really meant to join the blockade.

Whatever it was, the paddlers must have confused the Coast Guard as well because the zodiacs moved around and the surfers migrated back into the shipping channel. The cutter backed off again and the stand-off continued. I never saw any reinforcement arrive for the Coast Guard, so maybe it was just an observation plane.

When the sun was setting and I had to leave, the surfers were still occupying the channel, the zodiacs had given up harrassing them, and the ferry was still waiting outside the harbor.

Later that evening, I read online that the ferry had turned around soon thereafter and went back to Oahu without ever docking.

On Tuesday around noon, the Coast Guard announced that it had safety concerns about the situation and recommended that the ferry not sail to Kauai. Based on that assessement, Governor Lingle asked the ferry to suspend operations to Kauai. On Wednesday, the temporary injunction against the ferry using the port on Maui was extended while the hearing is delayed until the following Thursday.

For more articles about the ferry opposition see hui-r.info and IslandBreath.org.

Why I Support a Ferry EIS

August 29, 2007 | In Activism, Environment | No Comments

In two evenings of protest, demonstrators and activists on Kauai blocked the channel of Nawiliwili harbor, forcing the ferry to turn around without docking. This is the culmination of months of efforts to force the so-called Hawaii “super” ferry to perform an environmental impact statement (EIS), during which time grass-roots activism on Kauai and Maui has been steam-rolled by the state government on Oahu. As you can tell from my previous post, I am against the ferry operations as they have been implemented, and so I joined the protesters.

Here is a brief history of the issue, as I understand it.

When a certain group of mainland investors formed the idea of providing ferry service in Hawaii, they naturally went to the state government and asked for money. The ferry will bring jobs (and campaign money) if the state will provide the infrastructure, they probably said. The only obstacle is that the ferry is a threat to sea creatures and it will export Oahu’s problems (drugs, crime, overcrowding, overuse of natural resources) to the neighbor islands. The county councils on Maui, the Big Island, and Kauai passed resolutions asking the state to require and EIS. No problem, said the Republican governor, my administration can exempt the ferry from that pesky EIS, and the 80% of state-wide electors who live on Oahu will love me for giving them a weekend get-away.

So the state of Hawaii spent a minimal amount (I’m not sure of the exact number) to retrofit ferry terminals on Oahu and Kauai, but the port on Maui needed upgrades and changes, so that one cost $40 million. In the meantime, environmentalists and activists on Kauai and Maui started realizing the potential impact of the ferry. After a hard year of lobbying, their state legislators (senators and representatives) finally heard their plea and introduced bills requiring the EIS before operations could begin.

Since an EIS would be a statewide study in this case, with many, many issues, it would certainly delay the project, which would scare the investors and lose the deal. Though the neighbor island legislators were powerful, and the local activists gave testimony in record numbers (again, see my previous post), the bills were killed through procedural tactics by some key allies of the governor. In desperation, the proposed bills were modified to allow operations to begin while the EIS was being conducted, but even that was rejected.

So the ferry corporation began its public relations campaign, creating anticipation for the ferry with full-page ads in all the newspapers, but only giving lip service to the environmental concerns. Activists on Maui took their case to the courts, arguing that state laws does not allow the governor’s administration to exempt such a project from an EIS. But in the meantime, the ferry was built, shipped to the islands, and paraded around (though its first visit to Kauai was unannounced—were they expecting opposition?). Then the company delayed announcing any specific launch date, it wasn’t until August 11 that they announced online reservations for service originally planned to start today (Tuesday, August 28). In the meantime, the ferry made it’s first official visit to Kauai on August 19 for a viewing, which oddly required participants to register names and show IDs.

Last Thursday, the lawsuit on Maui was unexpectedly heard by the state Supreme Court, which unanimously ruled that the governor’s administration was wrong and that an EIS is required by state law (Honolulu Advertiser article). They sent the case back to a Maui judge who would then need to issue the ensuing injunction, ordering operations to stop until the EIS would be completed. The Maui court was scheduled to reconvene Monday to issue the ruling before the ferry began operations.

In an arrogant move, the ferry corporation announced on Friday that it would begin operations on Sunday, in defiance of the supreme court’s ruling (AP article that appeared in the Garden Island on Saturday). In order to fill the ferry on such short notice and create some buzz, they announced $5 fares until September 5 and it worked—nearly all trips to Maui and Kauai were sold out.

Word immediately got out on the coconut-wireless, through email lists and websites, that everyone wanting to oppose the arrival of the ferry without an EIS should meet at the port on Sunday. In a way, I feel that a vague malaise about the original, scheduled arrival on Tuesday was concentrated into real action to oppose the advanced (and probably illegal) arrival on Sunday. I read on the news that only a dozen people protested the arrival of the ferry on Maui, and I was determined to help increase the number on Kauai.

For more arguments and background into the ferry and its opponents, see hui-r.info and IslandBreath.org.

Kalalau Trip Report

August 29, 2007 | In Hiking | 5 Comments

Several months ago, my wife and daughter were staying with my in-laws, and I had the chance to do some backpacking. Because of my day job with computers, I only had one weekend to hike in and out of Kalalau by myself. So while I never recommend it, I hiked to Kalalau and back in what I call “2.2 days.” In fact, it was really only 48 hours, from Friday afternoon to Sunday afternoon. The only advantage to such a short trip is that I was able to go as light as possible. I managed to fit my bedroll, hammock, cold food, water filter, a change of clothes and other small essentials in a large day pack, so I was only carrying about 20 lbs (10 kg). See my other post about the food and equipment logistics for this trip.

Day 0.2

I didn’t even get an early start Friday afternoon, leaving Kapaa around 4 pm and reaching the trailhead at Kee Beach after 5 pm—at least I found parking.

It was no longer hot in the late afternoon, and I hiked the first two miles to Hanakapiai in exactly one hour. With the weather being so dry this spring, the trail was almost mud-free, which is actually a testament to how muddy this first section can be. The streams were all very low, too, making it easy and quick (and safe) to cross with shoes on dry rocks. I made it to Hanakapiai by sunset, learned to put up my hammock and got a nice photo of the hala (pandanus) silhouettes at sunset.

Day 1

I was up by 5 am the next morning before first light, due to jet-lag from a European trip—my schedule was working perfectly. I hit the trail by 5:30am and hiked several miles before the sun rose above the Pali. The trail climbs over 800 feet in 1.25 miles from the lowest point at Hanakapiai Beach to the highest point at the “Gate,” a distinctive rock overhanging the ocean below and welcoming you into the mystic valleys of the Na Pali coast. First is Ho’olulu, my favorite for the gentle downhill gradient through a hala forest and multiple sub-valleys, all wild and unexplored.

The next small valley is Waiahuakua, which has wild mountain apple trees that bloom in puffs of pink and lay a pink carpet on the trail. Sadly, I have never seen their fruit here so I don’t know if I missed the fruiting or if there’s a lack of polinators. With the dry weather, Waiahuakua has no drinkable water, but I didn’t need much in the cool morning, and the four miles to Hanakoa went quickly.

Looking at the times on my GPS track, I covered 4 miles (6 km) in 3 hours, including stops and side trails. It seemed like the miles went quickly, but that’s not very fast, so I must’ve been still asleep and just don’t remember the time going by.

In Hanakoa, I took some time to explore the two terminal ridges that I mentioned in another post. I went as far as safely possible on these narrow ridges, getting nice views into the valley and down to the ocean from both. The first photo is from the north ridge, and you can see the taller Hanakoa falls to the left in the shade (probably better to photograph in the afternoon). The second photo is from the south ridge, looking up at two distinctive peaks where only goats dare to go.

I spent another hour in Hanakoa resting, filtering water and taking pictures of the exposed sections of the trail that come next (I’ll post them in a separate article). Back on the trail again, I caught up with and passed some other hikers going into Kalalau who had slept in Hanakoa. They had big packs and looked like what I call “REI campers,” identifiable by the bright orange shovel (burying human waste is discouraged and composting toilets are provided). I think certain mainland styles are less adapted to the climate and terrain of the tropics–then again, they were probably carrying food for a week and I would be hiking back out tomorrow.

An important note: camping restrictions have since changed, and permits are now given for Hanakoa instead of Hanakapiai. See the update to my previous post on the subject.

The balcony trail just after Hanakoa is the lowest point on the trail between Hanakapiai and Kalalau, at about 100 feet (30 m) above the ocean. The trail then dips in and out of several small valleys and then climbs steadily to the second highest point of the trail at the top of “Red Hill,” the entrance to Kalalau valley at around 600 feet (200 m). On this part of the trail, everyone is dreaming of being at the beach already, but the little valleys with their babling brooks and the higher vertical valleys with their groves of kukui nut trees are pretty in their own right—remember to take note of them on the hike out.

I was motivated to get to the beach before it got too hot and covered the 4 miles to the Kalalau stream in 2:15 (1.75 mph or 2.8 km/h), stopping only once to filter water for my bottles. But I was starving by then and took the time to eat lunch in the cool shade by the stream, leaning back against the 10 mile-marker. I reached the beach and the end of the trail a half mile further, for an overall time of 7 hours (6am-1pm) to cover the 8.5 miles (13.5 km) plus side trails.

I was happy to have the whole afternoon in Kalalau, so I started with a dip in the ocean to cool off and relaxed a bit at the beach. But I wanted to go exploring up in the valley and ultimately find a campsite to sleep up there. First, I followed some of the side trails up into the valley and into one of the side gullies. When that trail grew too faint, I was at the foot of a small ridge and I scrambled up to get a view. It was steeper than it looked, and the thick grasses made it hard to pass, but I eventually reached the crest.

I’m being intentionally vague about access to this ridge, not because it is any sort of secret place, but because I can’t encourage anyone to go off-trail. I do not want to be responsible for getting anyone into a dangerous situation–please be careful and realize you are hiking at your own risk. If you do go exploring, please tread lightly, avoid destroying vegetation on slopes, avoid causing erosion and rock-falls, and never, ever free-climb on the crumbly rock.

I followed the ridge upward until it became very narrow. It seemed like there was a trail on this ridge, but the number of goat droppings tells me it was just a game trail. I climbed about 1000 feet (300 m) altogether, and it seemed like I must be deep in the heart of the valley. In truth, I was only on the 3rd ridge from Red Hill and the view into the valley wasn’t much different. Looking up, however, was a fairly impressive perspective on a point that I believe is called Puu Ki. I had to stop at the foot of the tower seen in the foreground of the photo on the left.

Backtracking down the ridge, I found some other trails that led down to the Kalalau stream, at a point where I caught a glimpse of the ridge I had just climbed (photo on the right above). From there, you can follow stream up past some very pretty cascades and pools, keeping to the south bank and weaving in and out of a bamboo grove on that side. I followed the stream for about a quarter-mile (0.5 km) before turning around. I did see a campsite, but it was already claimed by someone more or less permanantly. I also saw some of the resident “hippies” (I don’t mean that negatively, it’s just the best term I’ve heard for the free-spirited and optionally-clothed people you meet in the valley), they were sitting by a pool talking and playing a flute. I took a dip in a delightfully refreshing swimming hole, quite possibly the one I’ve heard called “Ginger Pool:”

Climbing the steep bank above the stream, I found the ideal site to hang my hammock. Technically, camping in the valley is illegal, but being alone and practicing zero-impact camping, I felt I wasn’t violating the intent of the law. Again, I would be a hypocrite to condemn illegal camping, but if you follow my example, please leave absolutely no trace either: no campfire, no buried waste, and preferrably no tent on the vegetation–anyways it’s easier to hang a hammock between trees than to find a flat campsite. I have to say that falling asleep to the sound of the stream and the view of the stars over Kalalau was idyllic.

However, I had not counted on how cold it could be in the valley at night. I had a single fleece sleeping sack, which is usually sufficient on Kauai. I had forgotten that a hammock doesn’t block the wind like a tent, and the steady breeze down the valley kept me chilled. It’s possible that the cold air slides down from the Kokee forest, which lies above the valley rim at 4000′ (1200 m). Even though I estimate the temperature was in the low 60’s (15-17 C), I didn’t have any insulation in the hammock against the breeze. I put on my second shirt and huddled in my bag and managed to sleep, but I was still cold. Moral of the story: fleece sleeping sacks only work inside tents or out of the wind. Even on the beach, it’s best to have some sort of wind shell or bivy bag–though often a plastic tarp will do.

Day 2

Because of the cold, I didn’t sleep well and stayed huddled in my hammock far past the sunrise. When I did peek out finally, the view made up for any discomfort:

As you can see, I kept my shoes on at night in the hammock in case I fell out or needed to get out. I still need some practice to use the hammock gracefully. As the sun came up a bit more, it lit up the south wall of the valley, an area I sometimes call the “Cathedral” for its soaring pillars of rock that seem to curve in ribbons and mimic graceful arches:

By the time I got up, had breakfast, took down my hammock, repacked my bag, and hiked back to the main trail, it was already 8:30am. If you’re easily tired by the heat like I am, this is really much too late to start the long hike back. The sun was already beating down on Red Hill, making the steep climb even hotter—and it was only 9 am. However, the views were spectacular, with the morning sun lighting up the Na Pali coast. Here’s my new desktop image:

Fortunately, the trail after Red Hill is mostly in the shade as you traverse some near-vertical walls and valleys (remember to look at the groves of oddly branching kukui trees). I had used up most of my water on Red Hill, so I was also thankful for the many streams that were not dry—they must be fed by springs in these short valleys (but I always filter and purify the water anyway). I was really feeling the effects of my jet-lag, and after the previous day’s hiking and exploring, every uphill was a struggle.

It took me two hours to hike the remaining 3 miles back to Hanakoa Valley, where I was happy that it was raining. It was too early for lunch, but I did stop to pick coffee in Hanakoa (more on that in another post). I usually like to stop for lunch at a view point overlooking the ocean, but I could find none in the shade after Hanakoa. I eventually found some shade under an overhanging cliff just around the corner into Ho’olulu Valley, but my leftover food wasn’t very appetizing. Then I made it back up to the Gate and the long downhill into Hanakapiai, averaging only about 1 mph (1.5 km/h) overall.

I always find the return to Hanakapiai to be really jarring, even after just 2 days. There are lots of people milling around, mostly day-hikers whose perspective of the trail is completely the opposite of mine at that point. Many think that they have hiked the Na Pali coast, all 2 miles of it, and no matter how out of shape they are, after 5 minutes of rest they look and feel better than those of us hiking back from Kalalau. If I had the energy, I would want to share with them how grandiose and beautiful that experience was, but from the way they seem annoyed at our slowness, our large packs, and likely our smell, I doubt these tourists would understand.

On that particular day, I was especially tired and dreading the last big hill. I sat down on a rock near the stream, and a woman practically scowled at me because I was in her picture. Mostly, I felt like I had absolutely no energy left. Even after resting and drinking, I didn’t feel like hiking anymore. Fortunately, I found a small bag of salted almonds at the bottom of my pack. I must’ve been low on sugar or maybe electrolytes (probably both), because those almonds practically revived me, or at least gave me a kick to get going up and over the hill. I finished around 4 pm, so about 7.5 hours to hike the full 10.5 miles (17 km) going out.

Unless it is pouring down rain, do not miss the swim at Ke’e Beach after hiking back. How good it feels just to float in the cool water after the long hike. Compared to Hanakapiai, the return to the crowds and traffic at Ke’e is more anonymous—everyone is enjoying the beach no matter how far they hiked or what they saw. After the swim, I rinsed off at the showers, and changed into my spare set of clothes from the car (I once forgot to leave a set of clean clothes in the car and regretted it).

Driving again felt strange, I always drive extra slow after a backpacking trip–it just feels unnatural to go fast. Fortunately, nobody can drive fast with the curves and one-lane bridges on historic route 560, and Hanalei is not far with plenty of good restaurants. Being alone this time, I just stopped in Papaya’s Natural Foods and bought some carry-out deli items which I ate outside, looking up at the mountains.

In Conclusion

While I don’t usually hike alone, I was glad I had the opportunity this trip. Besides the freedom to go exploring, I also had the time and mental space to reflect on the experience. What I found myself thinking over and over was how lucky I was to be in such an awesome and unique place. At other times, I have also enjoyed meeting other campers, both visitors and residents, and learning about their perspectives on the valley.

The isolation reduces the world to the space between the cliffs and the ocean, and so your focus is concentrated on the trail. After the satisfaction of reaching Kalalau, you are rewarded with a miniature garden of Eden affording either exploration or total relaxation in a grandiose setting. Except for the helicopters, the world beyond might not exist at all, and I for one never miss it. Unlike other trails that I do for the views or the sense of accomplishment, Kalalau is a hike and destination that I would do over and over for that feeling of living close to nature in a simpler, more beautiful world.

Kalalau Logistics

August 29, 2007 | In Hiking, Food, Gear | 2 Comments

I wanted to give some details about the food and equipment I took on my recent 2.2-day hike on the Kalalau trail. While a 2-day hike is different from a 5-day outing, this can give an idea of the minimum needed. Here I am all ready to go at the trailhead:

Food for 48 Hours

The advantage of going for only the weekend is that I didn’t need to carry much food. To reduce weight, I decided to eat cold so I could leave the campstove. I mixed some peanut butter and jelly into a plastic container, and I took 1 large tortilla for each big meal (4 in all). I couldn’t stand PB&J by the last day and didn’t finish it—next time I’ll take humus. For breakfasts I took granola bars and dried fruit, and for the rest of the day some trail snacks (salty nuts and crackers, dark chocolate, and hard candy). One of my favorite trail snacks are Iso Peanuts, sometimes called Mochi Balls: they’re Japanese and made of a peanut coated with rice-cracker and various flavorings–carbs, protein, fat, and salt in a convenient package.

For drinking, I took only one 1.5L bottle of water and the water filter with purifier drops. Seeing how I probably sufferend from low electrolytes, next time I will try to take some powdered sport drinks (PDF and others).

Minimal Equipment

On this trip, I tried out a light-weight travel hammock which I cover with a plastic tarp against the rain (I hear there are all-in-one hammock “tubes” that would be perfect). My bedroll is a fleece sleeping-bag, light-weight but sufficient (almost, as seen above). I hike in shorts and a shirt that are not cotton, because they dry faster and carry moisture away. The shorts are actually a bathing suit, so I don’t have to deal with underwear and so I can jump in the water anytime. I wore one change of clothes and carried another for sleeping and for the hike out. Only take clothes that you don’t mind getting dirty, the mud or dust can stain even synthetic fabrics.

Along with the minimum saftety equipement (hat, sunscreen, knife, whistle, lighter, and emergency mylar blanket) and some accessories (camera and GPS), I could fit all this in a day pack, which probably weighed around 20 lbs (10 kg). Even without the hip support of a full pack, this was by far the most comfortable pack I’ve carried into Kalalau. Because of the heat, I really recommend carrying as little as you possibly can, it only adds up to extra strain, effort, and fatigue.

For shoes, I usually go with full height hiking boots when I have a full pack. I have weak ankles and need the extra support. With the lighter pack, I was comfortable with the running/trail shoes I have. Trail shoes have the advantage of being lighter and breathing better, but make sure they have plenty of big tread, anything else will slip too much. I do not recommend hiking sandals (Tevas or Keen) unless you’ve hiked extensively in them before–same goes for flip-flops that the Kalalau “hippies” wear on the trail.

Finally, you can see in the first picture that I hike with poles. I always take them for backpacking and almost never for day-hiking. Since they mainly help me balance a heavy pack and take some strain off my knees, I considered not taking them. They can get in the way in the overgrown sections, and they do cause a bit more erosion. But they also allow me use my arm strength for walking faster, and they are useful for stream crossings, so I took them. If you have poles and are used to them, I recommend you use them on the Kalalau trail.

More on Parking

Hikers can understandably be worried about leaving their car several days unattended at the trailhead parking at Kee Beach. I have an old island car that I’ve left parked there up to 5 day without incident. I do lock it (on principle), but mostly I leave nothing valuable in the car, even out of sight. I do leave a towel, a change of clothes, some water, and other worthless car junk, but always in the open, not in a closed bag. Obviously, rental cars are more conspicuous, so never leave anything you can’t loose, even if you are just going to the beach. That way the worst thing that happens is that you have to deal with insurance, should anything happen.

I actually haven’t heard of break-ins at Kee Beach, but I’m sure they occur, it’s one of the most remote places and there are no people around at night. There is a ranger stationed there as part of the Haena State Park, but I don’t know if they patrol at night. Leaving your car at the campground at Haena beach should be safer because there are people around, but that’s no guarantee, and you then have to walk or get a ride 1 mile (1.6 km) to and from the trailhead. The surest thing is to be dropped off if you can arrange it, though you need to set a pick-up time and ask your driver to be willing to wait an hour or two for you, in case you’re late hiking out. Needless to say that catching a plane the same day you hike out of Kalalau is tempting fate.

Updated Feb 18, 2008: I gave some more details in a comment reply on another post. Also, I have heard that you can sometimes park your car at the YMCA Camp Naue in Haena. They will charge a fee, but it’s probably the option that is most safe. Depending on who else is using the camp, you may also be able to camp or bunk there before and after hiking the Kalalau trail. Their phone number is (808) 246-9090, and I found more information at the Frommer’s travel site (even the official YMCA website links there). Thanks to Mary Jo in the comment below for finding out that the YMCA camp is not an option. I had heard about the camp from several sources, including the link above, but I failed to confirm my information directly with the YMCA poeple.

Total Lunar Eclipse Tonight

August 27, 2007 | In Ephemerides | No Comments

Update: Here are some photos I took with a point-and-shoot Canon PowerShot A710 IS at 6x zoom with digital image stabilization. The photos are full-size, only cropped from the 7.1 MP originals.

The beginning of the eclipse is impressive, it really does look like there’s a bite taken out of the moon. During the partial eclipse, the curvature of the shadow just makes it look like a crescent moon. The prettiest was right before full eclipse, when most of the moon was reddish-orange, except for a white spot on the edge. The last one is a still from a video camera— the moon was too dark and I didn’t have a tripod.

22:46 HST       f/4.8       1/500 s

23:16 HST       f/4.8       1/200 s

video still

Lunar eclipses are perhaps the most common of celestial eclipses, but they still don’t happen every year in a given place. Tonight, one will be visible from Hawaii (Australia, N & S America as well), beginning just before midnight local time and lasting 1.5 hours. During the eclipse, the moon appears reddish because sunlight reflects through the earth’s atmosphere where blue light is absorbed, much like a sunset or sunrise. Before and after, the moon will be shaded by the penumbra and then partially eclipsed. Here is a link with more details about lunar eclipses.

Source: NASA

Sorry for the late notice…