Healing Hands

Yesterday afternoon I treated myself to a massage. I thought I’d recap the experience to encourage guests to take part, because it was wonderful.

First, there’s a huge advantage to doing the massage at home, in your room. You don’t have to drive afterwards when you’re all relaxed, you can roll into bed or lie out in the grass or slip back into the pool or hot tub. I swam in the pool and took a dip in the hot tub first, then had a nice shower and relaxed outside with a glass of wine and some chocolate until the therapist arrived. Last night we choose to do it in the Alaula Suite. But guests can have – and have had – massages in each guest room, as well as outside on lanai and in the common room. Sitting on the porch while watching the wind in the trees and sipping my wine was a pretty nice prelude to the massage.

It was late afternoon on a humid, overcast day. I was hoping it would rain so I could hear it as I lay there. The therapist set the table up inside but we left the doors open. She didn’t play any music which was fine, I listened to the birds. There are a million birds here, and the birdsong ramps up at dusk. I heard doves cooing and juvenile mynas chattering, the nervous chirping of a Japanese white eye, and the rhythmic call of the red cardinal. A cool wind breezed in through the doors, and I could smell our flowers: honeysuckle, gardenia, plumeria. I was so relaxed I nearly fell asleep on the table.

When I was done I walked back to our suite to play with my boys and get ready for dinner. If I was a guest at the Inn I could see taking a little pre-dinner nap afterwards, or having another glass of wine on the lanai while watching the sunset. Whatever you choose to do afterwards, you’ll feel relaxed and wonderful. It was absolutely perfect and I’d recommend it to any guest who stays here.

Happy Birthday Luana

To celebrate Luana Inn's fifth birthday we are offering discounts on all reservations taken through the month of June (reservations can be for anytime this year, they just have to be made in June).

Summer is a fab time to visit the island because it's sunny and warm as usual, but the water is a little calmer and warmer as well, and things usually aren't quite as busy as during the winter/spring months. Good deals on tickets can also often be found during the school-transition months of June and September.

Happy Kailua

Last night we went up to Kailua for dinner and were pleased to note that it looked and felt incredibly healthy. We're not sure if it was just the regular spring-break traffic, or if people are flocking here suddenly to see tsunami damage, or if it was just a particularly happy St. Patty's day, but the town was hopping last night.

After months and months of business being slow in Kaillua - and across the island - Kailua town was bustling with energy last night and it felt great. As far as signs of the tsunami, there really weren't any. An ABC store is closed up, and there is still a little sand on the road, but I'm not sure that you'd even know what had happened if you hadn't heard about it. In fact, my father swam in Kailua Bay yesterday and said that it looked normal.

The sunset was magnificent last night and dozens of people lined the street with cameras in hand to get good shots. Couples were perched, cuddling on the rock wall, people were filling Lava Java's outside seating area happily drinking wine and eating dinner, and Rosa's Cantina, where we ate, was flat-out raucous, filled with loud music and a happy crowd. From what we observed last night, the heart of Kailua was strong and healthy and the festive atmosphere that normally surrounds that town in the evening was back in full force: live music, large crowds, the smell of good food... The island is indeed alive and well.

This is not a bad time to travel, either. Ticket prices usually go down in April in anticipation of the slow around tax-time. Hawaiian Air is offering round-trip tickets from Seattle, Oakland, Phoenix, and Portland for around $500 in April. I even saw round-trip tickets from San Francisco for around $400.

One week after the tsunami

Last Thursday night we were just getting settled for bed when the tsunami sirens sounded. We immediately got up to figure out what was going on. Although the sirens are tested each month, severe tsunamis are actually quite rare in Hawaii (the last one was in 1960). Ken turned on the television and I hopped online to check the USGS site and we quickly learned that the massive quake in Japan had caused a tsunami that was headed for the Hawaiian islands. The civil defense was recommending that all shoreline residents evacuate and move a half mile inland.

Luana Inn is not in the evacuation area. The evacuation area in our neighborhood runs along the shore at the bottom of Napo’opo’o Road, .8 mile away from us. The Inn is more than a safe distance away, and is located up a very steep hill on a cliff. In other words, we were in no danger here.

The tsunami was predicted to hit Hawaii at about three am, and apparently reached the Big Island at about five am. We watched the news for awhile, and then went to bed. The next morning, the reef was briefly visible in Kealakekua Bay, and there was some debris in the bay. On Saturday we drove up to Kailua and headed back down Alii Drive to survey damage. Although water did come up over the rock wall onto Alii Drive in town, there was surprisingly little visible damage. There was some sand on the road and part of the rock wall that runs along the shore had been broken, but there were tons of people out and about and it otherwise looked like a normal, bustling Saturday afternoon. Huggo’s, Lava Java, Bubba Gump Shrimp and the surrounding shopping area with Blue Water Fantasies Jewelry and Kaiso, and most of the shops on those portions of Alii Drive were open. The Kona Inn and the little shopping area that it is located in further north were closed. Kona Inn will re-open this weekend.

As we drove Alii Drive towards Keauhou and looked at the beaches and homes along the road it was clear that the water had risen and moved debris around. Rocks had been brought up onto Magic Sands Beach, but people were still out sunbathing and enjoying themselves. Homes looked fine. Some pole homes where lawn furniture or wood had been stored underneath clearly had had such items shifted around. Kahalu’u Beach in the Keauhou Resort area was closed and it looked like some rocks had been shifted there as well.

As far as the northeastern coast of the Big Island, we have learned that The Four Seasons Hualalai and the Kona Village have both endured damage.

The part of the island hardest hit was actually the Kealakekua Bay area down through Pu’uhonua O Honaunau. After surveying Alii Drive to Keauhou, we then drove to the Manini Beach area and discovered that Manini Beach has been transformed. Several homes on the water were severely damaged and the vacation rental right on Manini Beach was lifted off its foundation and washed out to sea. The DLNR and Coast Guard are still assessing damage and have put a plan into place to remove the house. A major neighborhood effort is being made to quickly clean up the area. We have seen a steady stream of kayak-tour traffic down our road and saw that kayaks were indeed still being rented as of Saturday. According to one of the most popular snorkel tour companies, the water had already cleared as of Saturday and it was business as usual. Parts of the City of Refuge National Park are closed temporarily for clean-up and damage assessment, but the Wednesday evening program is still on and the next one is set for March 23 at 6 pm and is called: “Coral Spawning this spring – the Life of the Reef”. Rangers plan to re-open the park completely within two weeks. We have heard that Two Step and Hookena are fine, but will post more information as we learn more.

We are extremely thankful that Hawaii endured such minimal damage. We never lost power, always had water and cable and phone service, no one was killed or seriously injured. Some homes did indeed experience severe damage, there are clearly businesses that have been effected in Kailua, and some of the natural shoreline has been visibly altered, but the major damage to the Big Island will be the drop in tourism if mainland people become fearful to travel here based on incorrect information.

People should not be afraid to come to Hawaii. Natural disasters can happen anywhere, and Hawaii is not an unusually dangerous place. The island is still breathtakingly beautiful, there are still amazing things to see here, the weather is perfect – none of this has changed. We are sitting here, in this stunning house, with its gorgeous guest rooms and glorious ocean view, the sun is shining, the ocean looks like blue satin, and the phone isn’t ringing. This is the most worrying thing in the aftermath of the tsunami for Hawaii.

We also need to turn our attention to Japan, which has endured major devastation. Hawaii has a very strong connection to Japan and it is to our Japanese brothers and sisters to whom we must now send our aid, or thoughts and our prayers. This is not a time to be fearful, but to move forward.

Putting things in perspective

Last week our baby son, Ryan, had surgery at Kapiolani Hospital for Women and Children in Honolulu. We had anticipated this day for months, but the stress involved took us by surprise. The four of us flew over on a Tuesday late afternoon and everything flowed. We were totally packed and ready, the boys were upbeat and enjoyed the flight, and we got settled into our hotel for the week smoothly. This time we stayed at the Ala Moana hotel right next to the mall. This was perfect for our older son, since we could safely just walk over with him and have loads to keep him entertained. To him, the escalators were supremely exciting, the parking garage and its multitude of exposed pipes fascinating, the mall and its assault of noise terrific.

The next day we went to the hospital to have Ryan do a test that would determine whether or not he’d need surgery the next day. He was injected with a special dye in the morning, underwent an hour-long kidney scan in the early afternoon, and then we met with his doctor in the late afternoon. It was a day spent running back and forth to the hospital. We got to know the hallways and waiting areas intimately. Ryan endured his trials with surprising patience and calm. Conlan was very concerned about his younger brother and kept asking about him, taking everything in. It was no surprise that the doctor wanted to perform the surgery the next day, but I still felt a wave of fear wash over me as he said it. We had been preparing ourselves for this, or so we thought. But how can you, really?

The next day we had a wonderful breakfast at the Vietnamese café across the street, complete with Pho and strong, sweet coffees, then got to the hospital late morning. Ken delivered Ryan up to the doctor at the surgery center and I waited with Conlan in the waiting area. Ryan had been too stressed with me, smelling my milk and not able to have any wound him up too much. I left Ken downstairs with him in the cold hallway, cradling him, waiting. Conlan had a new little race car he rolled over all the chairs in the waiting area. I thumbed through a People magazine and watched pregnant mommies and their nervous-looking men pacing the halls, mommies cradling newborns heading home, and anxious-looking fathers bringing huge bags of takeout food into the hospital. The lobby was buzzing with activity, and yet my baby was somewhere downstairs in the cold, being opened up by skilled hands. I couldn’t bear to think about it. I suddenly felt so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. I got up and chased Conlan up and down the hallways until Ken came up to tell me the surgery was underway and the waiting would begin.

Instead of pacing nervously for the two to three hours the surgery would take, and to give Conlan a break from the hospital, we elected to leave the hospital to have lunch. I sensed Conlan was also very tired, picking up on our stress, so he and I waited in the hotel room while Ken went out to get lunch. Conlan fell asleep and rested hard until we were called back to the hospital. Ken and I ate our lunch, not having realized until we began to eat how hungry we actually were, rested a little, and then headed back.

The surgery was a complete success and as straight forward as could be. Ken and Conlan waited upstairs this time while I went down to meet with the doctor and wait with my boy in the recovery room. Our doctor is incredibly warm and engaging and assured us that all was well. We trusted him completely. I sat by my boy until he awoke, and then nursed him straight away. He nursed well and his color looked good. Although awkward to cuddle him with all his various wires and sensors, it felt hugely relieving to feel my warm baby, to smell him and look at him and see for myself that he was, indeed, just fine.

I stayed with Ryan in the hospital for the next couple of days, while Ken and Conlan stayed in the hotel. Conlan missed me, of course, but had a fun time with his daddy. Ryan recovered extremely rapidly and was actually released after only two nights. It was impressive, really. He was in one of those hospital baby cribs with the slide-down sides, and he had toys everywhere, some from the kind nurses, and some from home. He lay on his back and kicked and reached and cooed and played happily with his toys as if nothing had happened. He didn’t fuss, he smiled and slept and nursed comfortably. Once we got him home he was doing tummy-time immediately and working on his crawling again. This seems miraculous to me, to be able to move around with such ease after major surgery - particularly abdominal surgery. The whole thing is miraculous, really. I have incredible respect for his nurses and doctors and all the people who worked so hard to ensure his health and comfort in the hospital.

Both my boys have spent time in the hospital now, and these experiences have changed my life. I knew that I loved them, knew that I would do anything for them before they were sick, but seeing them in their little hospital gowns, seeing them so vulnerable made everything that much clearer. Once you have babies, you really do live for them, and I felt this. Their pain was mine, my world, my happiness; my heart is in their little hands.

Our hospital room at Kapiolani faced the Shriners Hospital across the street. The nurse told me that this is for severely crippled children from all across the Pacific. As the traffic flowed by at all hours next door on the highway and day turned into night and night into day and the people-traffic flowed non-stop in and out of the hospital I thought about these kids and all the kids and the parents whose lives are on hold as they wait for their beloved babies to come home. It seems almost obscene that the rest of the world should flow on so blithely when time has stopped for you, but it does, unrelentingly. There is no difference to the moon or the sunrise or the ebb and flow of traffic or the morning news or the tides when your baby is sick. It seems there should be.

Now that we are home we are decompressing from the experience. Ryan is unfazed, back to spending hours each day on the floor doing “tummy-time”. Conlan is feeling a little jealous and came down with a cold, but is slowly returning to his normal, upbeat self. Although shattered with exhaustion, Ken and I feel that a huge weight has been lifted. Since Ryan was diagnosed with his problem at age one month, and we’ve had this fear of him getting sicker/having to have surgery his whole life, it is now as if our lives can actually begin together for real.

I am often asked by guests if I ever tire of the beautiful view from this property. Today, for instance, the sky is perfectly clear, the horizon clear forever, and the sunlight so bright it almost hurts. The ocean looks like satin and the land spread out before us is shining in greens and blacks. The water in the swimming pool is being moved by the wind in gentle, inviting little eddies. The birds are singing. I have always loved it here, loved this property. I have always appreciated the magnificent view and location. But as these things happen I appreciate them even more. It sounds corny, but it’s absolutely true. Each and every day I look out over the ocean and am thankful.

Our cat, Yuki

We have three animals on our property, Oliver, our faithful old dog, and two cats. We let the dog out to sit in the sun, one cat stays inside our private suite with occasional short-lived forays to the front yard, and our cat Yuki lives exclusively outdoors. We don’t allow animals in the guest rooms or guest common areas, because we know some guests have allergies and we like to keep things squeaky-clean.

That said, Yuki has recently become quite famous with our guests for finding creative ways to sneak into rooms. We had a couple check in and find Yuki curled in one of the bathroom drawers, sleeping. Apparently she’d opened the drawer, crawled inside, and pulled it closed. (It is odd, but we did have another cat who used to open closet doors, enter, and then close them behind herself.) We had another couple wake up with her in bed with them. In both cases she’d slipped inside when the guests weren’t watching, so please be on the alert if she’s stalking you outside.

Yuki is a shameless love-sponge, a charming player like all cats. Don’t let her fool you with her lonely mews; she is the recipient of loads of food and attention. If you plan to barbeque on the lanai one night, you can bet that Yuki will show up, mewing sadly and rubbing against legs, endearing herself to you as she awaits scraps. You may even see her waiting in the grass laying flat on her back in the sun, legs splayed, with not a care in the world (although she is a bit more cautious since she was hit by our sprinklers). When she was a kitten she’d climb guest screen doors at night looking for attention. She’s black with a white underbelly so she looked like a huge white spider.

Yuki adopted me while I was walking Ollie near the neighboring coffee mill about four years ago. I was walking through the parking lot when I heard the pitiful little mews of a kitten. A small, dirty black kitten with white-dipped feet and paws walked out of a pile of trash in the jungle and brazenly sat at my feet with the big dog right next to me. She stared up at us and gave a pitiful little mew. So of course I had no choice but to scoop her up and bring her home. I named her Yuki for her bravery and confidence. She may be relatively small (although quite chubby now) but she is fearless and has a huge personality. She is our watch-cat and greeter-girl.

Our Favorite Places: Hookena Beach

When we’re in the mood for a sandy beach but don’t want to drive up north, we head to either Keei Beach, which is about five minutes away, or Hookena Beach, which is about twenty minutes away.  Both of these beaches are small, local, and relatively quiet – compared to the big northern beaches backed by resorts.

To get to Hookena, we head up Napoopoo to Middle Keei Road, follow Middle Keei up to the Highway, then drive south until we see the sign.  We follow a winding farm-road down to the beach at the bottom.

Hookena Beach is a mixed white-black sand beach.  It has soft sand, unlike the pure black of Punalu’u, that is lovely and hot (make sure to wear your flip-flops down to the water).  The Beach is backed by dramatic sheer cliffs and is a protected small crescent.  There are some rocks and there is reef along the side and out a ways from shore, so you can snorkel, but the sand and break make this beach great for body surfing and boogie-boarding.  The turtles seem to like it here, so stay on the lookout for them. 

Camping is allowed with a permit along the back of the beach, and there are a few houses just before the entrance.  This, coupled with a sometimes rowdy sunset crowd have given Hookena a bad reputation, but it’s really a fabulous small beach and completely worth a visit.  I went the other day and was once again taken in by its beauty.  It was morning and the light shining against the jagged cliff faces and up along the rugged shoreline was breathtakingly lovely.  The water was clear and calm and there were several large tide pools alive with baby fish.  I lay down in one with my son and watched the waves crash from a safe distance.  The sky and water were both utterly, shockingly bright-blue.  The sky was cloudless, and yellow butterflies fluttered along the tops of the wet black rocks in front of us. 

A perfect afternoon for us is time lazing at Hookena Beach, playing in the soft waves, digging in the warm dark sand, and resting under the shade trees reading.  We have seen turtles here, reef fish, and dolphins, and have watched many a glorious sunset.  We’ll often bring a picnic down, poke and sushi from Choice Mart, or pick up BBQ at Big Island Jake’s on the way home.  It always seems to rain in the late afternoon, providing soft counterpoint to the heat of the beach.