KOLOA SURPRISES KEEP HAPPENING? YES THEY DO

Koloa surprises are different than the usual Hawaiian happiness?

As if Kauai island needs more to keep it interesting.

No snakes, gators, or bugs are all a welcome surprise.

But there’s more.

This is my first time traveling this far west.

If I went much further I’d be in the east.

Until now the furthest west I’d been is Port Orford, Oregon.

Where I grew up there was only one Oregon coast town worth mentioning: North Bend, Oregon.

It turns out that kids who grew up in other coast towns felt the same way.

Some even called North Bend ‘The City’ but they probably meant Coos Bay.

My provincialism as been strong, especially around sophisticates who feel superior to others based on their travels.

To them I say, “Take the bus from New York City to Portland, Oregon, then tell me about the magic of urban loveliness.”

Koloa is not about urban lovey-dovey, six lane freeways, or condo towers.

Neither are Koloa surprises.

What are Koloa Surprises?

Too often we arrive someplace, look around, and see other places we need to see more than where we are.

Does that sound like you, too?

To see whales we go to a whale watching place.

For sea turtles there’s a sea turtle place.

Wildlife in general? They are all Koloa surprises.

But what if you’re staying on other side of the road from the ocean?

Go take a look.

Baby Beach sounds tame enough for babies?

And me.

After a dip in these waters I was a pro snorkeler and needed more.

I found more the first time and it made me seasick after the waves had their way.

The next day was Baby Beach for this big baby. My confidence needed restoring.

Since every day is a snorkel day, we drove to snorkel Mecca where I dodged a sea turtle heading my way at full steam ahead.

On the way back we stopped at the lighthouse for whale watching.

I like my personal lighthouse better.

Baby Beach Shocker

I can walk a block and a half from my front door to Baby Beach access stairs.

It takes a minute and you’re in the sand and surf and rocks and sun.

But, right across from us is what looks like an abandoned beach access, a narrow walk between houses marked by a faded pole.

My wife and I took a look on our first evening.

Urban willies gave me an alarm: We had one exit to the street because the path led down to rocks and surf.

Did I mention it was dark? I’d seen enough.

“Honey, the headlines for tomorrow’s paper reads, “Another idiot tourist drowns in the dark with his body washed to sea and nibbled away by tropical fish.”

That was my last trip down that tight little lane. Until yesterday.

My brave son: Let’s take a look around the corner of Baby Beach. For all of the rave reviews, there’s got to be more.

Me: I think the narrow alleyway across the street leads down to where we’d end up if we went around the corner.

Sonny: Let’s take a look.

2

We walked down in thongs and found rocks and a small empty beach to the left.

Perfect. I saw a sandy path between the rocks through the water.

We hustled back to the house, put on water shoes, and grabbed our snorkels, masks, and fins.

Did I mention the beach access was five steps away from the driveway?

We donned our gear, added anti-fog to the masks, and crawled out. Okay, I crawled out in ankle high water to avoid falling on the rocks with a fin-flopper entrance.

Besides, I’m a low draft tanker.

The other snorkel swims were too turbulent (seasick), too shallow for the adventurers, or too murky with limited vision.

This baby Baby Beach was clear, calm, fishy, and full of coral that would make a rainbow blush.

And it’s across the street?

I tapped my son and headed for shore.

“I’m going back to the house for your wife.”

“She’s packed and ready to go.”

“We’ve got time. Let’s give her a pitch.”

3

Adventure girl decided to unpack and take another walk I hoped she’d take with her husband.

Together they saw the clear water, the coral, the fish . . . and a sea turtle swimming right at them before veering off.

Does a last impression memory get any better?

We dropped them at the airport for the mainland and hour later.

I headed back to Kona where my wifely and I took a drink down to Big Baby Beach.

A few folks were leaving. One of them stopped on the stairs to report whales breaching.

Whales?

Now I’ve got big turtles and breaching whales across the street?

Am I in Disneyland? Where else could this happen? Koloa surprises.

After long drives for snorkeling nirvana and cliffside whale watching that showed a ‘whale footprint,’ I didn’t have to leave my driveway?

Mark this as another example of take a good look around.

It may not be your hometown, but let’s pretend.

I’ll be in the clear water with my adventure wife in an hour.

I’m the one in the turquoise rash-guard hoodie from the Columbia employee’s store in Beaverton, Oregon.

Who needs a rash-guard hoodie? Everyone, but mostly me.

I’m pulling it on after I post this.

Breaking News: people are walking past the worn beach access pole out my front door.

Good. I hope you can keep a secret.