Raw beauty of
Kaena astounds
This is the 10th installment of
By Tim Ryan
Walking Stories, an account of our journey
on foot around the island of Oahu. Reporter
Tim Ryan yesterday trekked from
Mokuleia to Kaena Point.
Star-BulletinI walk in the misty light of the rising sun toward Kaena Point from the end of Farrington Highway at Mokuleia.
Staring into the infinity of space of the Pacific Ocean, I experience for the first time in a week of walking around Oahu something new and refreshing: sweet solitude.
No cars, no people, no houses, no unnatural noises; only the sound of strong tradewinds whipping through waist-high scrub that grows from the water's edge to the top of the steep Waianae mountains, and the incessant roar of monster waves breaking a mile offshore. The air is dense with salt spray that coats my glasses, camera lens, my face.
This walk, about six miles from the Mokuleia gate through Kaena Point Natural Area Reserve to Yokohama Bay on the west side, is joyous and wild, and a flat and easy stroll away from distractions, annoyances, hindrances.
From Mokuleia you can walk along a deeply gouged jeep road or along a sandstone bluff -- a narrower trail, but one that provides a view of the ragged reef and the shoreline currents that engulf it.There are lots of sandy beaches on this side all the way to the point, but the waters are treacherous. The waves are so big and powerful that the foam created by the surf floats like a thick layer of brown bubble bath for miles.
If you decide, like I did, to climb out on several rocky outcroppings to be, for an instant, a part of nature's fury, be cautious.
Ten minutes after I returned from shore after climbing a hundred yards out onto a dry reef, the rocks were engulfed by 5 feet of white water from a giant set of waves.
The flotsam and jetsam you see along the beach trail is all natural, not manmade litter. There are gnarled coral branches, pieces of shellfish and large rocks rounded smooth.
The Kaena Point Natural Area Reserve was created in 1983, after decades of abuse from the now dismantled Oahu Railway, which hauled sugarcane around the point from the leeward side to Waialua, and the more recent hordes of all-terrain vehicles.
Forty-five minutes in, you come to an industrial-strength gate with boulders the size of Volkswagens on each side to prevent vehicles from entering. Signs announce the entrance to the reserve, which is a refuge for the Hawaiian monk seal and a breeding ground for green sea turtles and seabirds, including the laysan albatross.
Ground cover has been severely damaged here, accounting for a tremendous loss of sand and soil, especially important in a place as exposed to the elements. It seems the closing off of Kaena to vehicular access is helping the dunes and native plants recover. Don't walk through or over plants but follow marked trails.
A coral-and boulder-strewn beach narrows into a point marking the end of Oahu. It is strangely a peaceful place, given the stunning turbulence of waves attacking one another just offshore.This is a wonderful spot to enjoy the soothing effects of time alone, to rejuvenate, meditate, think of someone you love.
Suddenly I'm reminded of something a friend told me: "When two people fall in love, they go to the wilderness." Like Kaena Point, I imagine.
The road from here to Yokohama Bay is a winding, rutted jeep road/former railroad bed that closely follows the shore 50-feet below. There are tidepools and caves to view and churning surf rolls enormous rocks around like pebbles.
The views toward Yokohama are wondrous, though a bit hazy because of spray in the air.
My pace slows as I spot someone on the beach a mile away. Then around a bend in the narrow road I see remnants of a car transmission, and beyond that, a discarded bathroom sink.
I turn to take a last look at Kaena Point before it disappears from view.
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