The Coast Less Traveled
We sailed the Na Pali Coast on rough-and-tumble October seas, departing from Port Allen on Capt. Andrew Evans' 55-foot commercial catamaran. We stopped to snorkel: the water was warm, and yellow and blue fish flitted about, but soon we were sucking down snootfulls of water in the unrestful seas.
So we sailed on. Eerie in the misty distance lay Ni'ihau, the "Forbidden Island". To gain entry to the secretive island you must be Hawaiian, or be invited.
More spookiness: a long stretch of beach bordering Pacific Missile Range at Barking Sands. Missiles are launched during tests here, and pleasure craft haven't been allowed to land on the beach since Sept. 11, 2001.
Farther up the coast the water did its part to create an other-worldly atmosphere. Sea blue turned to soiled-inkwell blue, a hue so convincing that it seemed if you dipped in a towel it would surely come back stained.
And then someone shouted, "flying fish" and off to starboard what looked like a flock of hummingbirds hurled themselves out of the water and dived back down. Shortly after that, our catamaran was led by a pod of spinner dolphins leaping and twirling directly in front of the bow like mythical sea helpers.
As our craft began to approach the Na Pali cliffs, the sea color changed to the improbable bright blue of antifreeze, yet with the transparency of glass. Little neon-blue waves danced and smacked against rocks, tossing foam like playthings at imaginary targets.
Captain Andy offered an explanation for the weird blue seas along this coast. Lava beds underlie the dark areas, and the brighter spots owe their color to the coral beds and sand just blow.
The palette of improbable blues fit well with the surreal green cliffs that rise as high as 2,700 feet above the sea.
The catamaran slowed so we could survey the cliffs and gaze up at the green valleys, where Hawaiians farmed until the 1920s, when they were lured away by town life in Hanalei.
We looked up into misty valleys, and into intriguing little sea caves at the feet of the cliffs. Sea kayaks poke around in them on calm summer days, but the October choppiness would have made sea-kayak soup.
As we sailed past Hanakapi'ai Beach - the beach I planned to hike to the next day, hikers waved to us.
