KAPAPA ISLAND -- It's Father's Day. I'm sitting here on this island two miles out into Kaneohe Bay, sipping champagne and watching the small waves move gently through the crystalline water. This dad found
his own perfect giftEvery once in a while in life, you are exactly where you want to be. I'm here now. My daughter is hopping from lava rock to lava rock, exploring the shoreline. My wife is just taking in the view of the Koolaus, which are most beautiful from this far away. For one thing, you can't even see the H-3 freeway. A few other kayakers are hunkered down under a tree, hiding from the sun. Some fishermen are packing up their camping gear, ready to head out in a small boat that tugs at its anchor a few yards off shore. The weather's perfect. The water's perfect. The day is perfect.
Two days before, my friends questioned my stability.
"What are you getting for Father's Day?" one asked.
I'm getting my daughter a kayak, I said.
"You're getting your daughter something for Father's Day? What are ya, nuts?"
He wasn't a father. I explained. To me, Father's Day is about trying to have a perfect day. I envisioned my perfect day: a paddling picnic with the family. My wife and I have kayaks but my daughter is too big now to carry on mine. She's old enough to handle her own. And so, if I were going to have my perfect day, she'd have to have a kayak. Besides, kayaking is great exercise for kids.
Grueling, even. It teaches them confidence, ocean knowledge and safety. It teaches them to love the ocean and why it's important to protect it. I explained all that to my friend.
"So you're not getting anything for Father's Day?" he reiterated.
WE set out from Heeia Kea pier with the three kayaks loaded with food, drink, towels, tarp and lawn chairs. Kapapa Island shimmered in the sun on the horizon. I had been out there before. It's a beautiful junior-sized Gilligan's Island with grass and pine trees. There is lava reef on three sides and a small sandy beach welcomes visitors on the calm leeward side.
But it was a long way to paddle for a kid who just got a kayak and a wife who hadn't paddled for several months. But it was Father's Day.
We crossed the deep channel and reached the famous Sand Bar in the middle of the bay. From there it is another mile to the island, but the water is only a few feet deep and clear. Soon, we were surrounded by turtles the size of truck tires, darting around the coral and sticking their heads up like submarine periscopes.
We reached the beach after running through the small surf that wrapped around from the island's windward side.
We established our little camp under a tree with leathery, pale green leaves. The tarp provided additional shade and blocked the wind. My daughter and I explored the entire island. I held her hand as we made our way along the small cliffs on the Makapuu side and took a picture of her poised next to a dramatic lava overhang. I couldn't believe the 9-year-old in the view finder was my little girl.
I remembered walking a furrow in the floor to get her to sleep when she was a baby. I remembered once when she was 2 and had the flu, I stayed up the entire night watching her every breath. I remembered her picking up a handful of snow on the mainland when she was 4 and calling it sand. I remembered the day she first rode her bike and when she learned to swim. And now, she had just paddled two miles to a semi-deserted island with a confidence and determination that seemed staggering.
We finished our exploration and I sat down in the shade for a cup of champagne. Father's Day isn't about getting gifts. It's about taking time to appreciate the ones you have. This one was perfect.