Mana.
The least predictable thing about running a SwimVacation isn’t the flights, or the guests, or the yachts we charter. It’s the sea, and the weather, and the way they are intertwined. I’ve never been interested in throwing our guests into white-capped seas every day, or leading them over mountainous swells. This is a vacation, not an extreme open water swim camp. We also have absolutely no control over what the ocean throws at us. Sure, there are times when we face challenging conditions, but this morning the weather and the sea combined to create an enormous blue swimming pool for us. It’s a pretty rare thing, and we took full advantage.
We planned a triangular swim along the north side of the bay, then across the mouth of the bay to the south side, then, aw jeez it’s just easier if I work up some graphics for this, I’ll be right back.
Map on left: This is where we live in Hawaii. The U.S. mainland is about 2,500 miles to the east (right), and Japan is about 3,800 miles to the west (left).
Map on right: This is a typical swim from our home beach in Waialea Bay. It’s about a mile. Sometimes we do it twice.
Our swim was delectable. Kyle dragged me around the course twice, he can swim very fast for a very long time. Ryan watched over Angie, Kimberly, Patricia, Chris, and Luise, while Heather swam with Charlie, who was very nearly kissed by a very friendly sea turtle. KeKau filled in the gaps. He and Ryan paddle their SUPs around the bay as easily as you and I walk down the street. Our swim was highlighted by calm, clear water, lots of fish, and a meeting with sea turtles at the end. We lingered. Heather took video of everyone’s stroke.
The sea turtles in Hawaii are protected and respected, and this may be part of the explanation why they seem utterly unafraid to come near us. We never touch, but linger and watch with awe as the munch on the short crop algae covering the submerged lava rock.
Naps ensued. Lunch came around, highlighted by Clare and Dan’s amazing coleslaw, which I piled high on a sandwich. By 1:30, we were piling into the cars for a trip to Kona. An uneventful 40 minute swim under dramatic skies on the Ironman course kept us on schedule to get back to our Hale for a special event.
Kekau is both new to us this week and feels like ohana from the moment we met him.
You can’t help but feel the power of these Islands, no matter what your activity. The people who live here absorb it, this “mana” as the Polynesians call it. One place where this mana is expressed is at a Hulau, a school where the form of dance called Hula is taught, but also where Hawaiian culture is preserved, and so much more. We invited dancers, musicians, and storytellers from the local Hulau to our Hale last night to share their passion for their culture. The stories, music, and dancing were entrancing, and we were all left with a sense of peace and community. As the music rose, the songbirds joined in. Truly magical. I’ll let Heather’s photos do the rest of the work here.
Clare, a former member of the Halau and island sister to the dancers, joined in for a few story dances. Beautiful and special.
Clare and Dan had worked all day on our dinner, a traditional Hawaiian luau. After a starter of three kinds of delicious poke (raw fish salads), we filled our bellies with pork, cabbage, lomi salmon, purple curried sweet potatoes, and, of course, poi. Clare tells the story of poi, where Mother Earth gives birth to a stillborn, who becomes the taro plant from which poi is derived. When Mother has another child (our collective ancestor), he is nourished by the poi, which is now figuratively the brother of all man. We sweep our lomi salmon over the poi, and the two together taste both exotic and like home.
A slice of lilikoi macadamia nut pie completed the day, along with easy conversation and the kind of laughter only shared between friends. We are a lucky group tonight on this huge island that can make you feel both tiny, powerful and fully connected to aloha.
Hopper
