But no longer! E and I pathed out to Ke-awa-iki Bay off of Hwy 11 heading north from Kailua-Kona along the western coast.  We parked at a turnout on the side of the road in between a couple of mileposts (educated were we by the Hawai’i “blue book” guide), packed our camelbaks and bags o’ extras and walked for about 15 minutes on difficult a’a lava remnants.

A'a lava field. Tricky in Tevas...

(There was a foot trail that we walked upon for half the distance after a relatively well-formed 4wd path from the highway).

Upon reaching the beach — a remarkably beautiful salt-and-pepper “sand” beach (really, tiny rocks) that arched around both north and south gradually and home to a paranoid camp amidst picturesque palm trees and a multitude of avian life (heard but not seen, naturally) — we dropped camp under a shade-providing bush and went directly into the water.

The condo we’re staying in is a fairly nice time-share type place with a pool and a sizable lanai including all the niceties one would expect from self-serve accommodations in the tropics.  (Though I do wish the large, jetted tub worked…)  One of the perks is a well-stocked beach-going cabinet on the lanai.  Snorkel gear, beach mats, chairs, coolers, et cetera greeted us upon exploring the large plastic container in the corner, much to our delight (saved us from renting gear).  We grabbed the fins and snorkels, however, without testing them in water first as they passed a cursory evaluation.  This was not wise…

Ke-awa-iki Bay Snorkel Site

The water was the perfect temperature: slightly crisp upon entering, but that crispness dissolved quickly into pleasant somewhere ideal and in between too warm and too cool.  I floated effortlessly on top of the water with my head just submerged and an underwater volcanic rock relief opened up in front of me for as far as I could see.  Before I could blink a few times to exhaust my surprise I felt the unfortunate sting of salt water in my eyes as the right side barrier of my snorkel goggles began to leak inappropriately over my eye, onto my face and into my nose.  I knelt on the surf floor with my knees buried in black volcanic pebbles being rocked back and forth by the minor yet powerful surf and attempted to repair the goggles (initially assuming the issue was an insufficient seal).  E had swum out and around the little cove for a bit after a big sea turtle!  After my 10th or so try at getting the mask to perform, we resolved to use but one mask between us taking turns roaming around the relief catching sight of a multitude of fish around a few coral brain structures and in awe once again of the beautiful destructive nature of flowing lava.

It’s unnerving to be in a place that is so much larger, so self-contained and enormous, remarkably self-serving and hostile insofar as each creature lacks the emotional content we humans pad around with regularly.  Once in the world of fish and pelagic mammals, I realized that my inclusion here is not only barely noticed but at once as unsure and likely as potentially curious as I feel.  At once I was at the peak of my curiosity as far as the number of beautiful and diverse creatures that were swimming and feeding below me in the crevasses of the shallow inlet and experiencing mild apprehension at what lies beyond my field of vision: wanting desperately to see a sea turtle, a dolphin, a whale a shark! And yet not wanting to see them at all!

Because of this mix of emotional content out there in the relative safety of a calm inlet, E and I swam around individually while the other sat wandering to and fro in the surf (filling my shorts and tank, for the most part, with black pebbles and sand) for perhaps 5 – 10 minutes at a time.  The sound of the bay under water was more otherworldly than the aquarium-like experience of actually swimming with fish.  We heard fish eating and the surf disturbing mounds of rocks and pebbles and I heard something I could not place: a muffled low rumbling sound perhaps humans in the distance, perhaps an ocean-going mammal or fish or reptile unseen yet close by.   I high-tailed it to shore, nevertheless…

The experience was incredible and I fell in love with snorkeling instantly.  Hawai’i surrounds us with beauty and destruction and life and unpredictability and change and delight.