WRITERS WRITE IT DOWN IN KOLOA TIME

Writers write no matter where they are.

From Paris to London to Koloa, Kauai, I write it down.

From North Bend to Portland to Tigard, I write it down.

Is it a good idea? Or a waste of time?

Some writers say they do it in order to know what they don’t know.

It’s like readers who say they read to live fully instead of being stuck in just one life.

Writers write about that other life while living at the same time.

If writers embraced the idea of reading to experience other lives, they’d never write.

We read to become better writers, AND experience other lives.

Koloa Life So Far

No matter where I am, I like getting out and taking a look around.

Small town to mega-city, they all have things in common, mainly that they strive to prove they are not irrelevant.

Let’s be honest, if the places your visit are irrelevant, why are you there?

Are you lost, my friend?

This is where history comes in handy.

Everything has a history.

It’s what you do with that history that matters in the community.

Koloa was the site of the first sugar cane plantation.

After Big Sugar, it became a crossroads for people looking for things to do besides surf and snorkel and boogie board.

You know, shopping.

Nothing a tourist likes more than shopping, right?

And seeing a heritage tree on a heritage trail.

Shop and learn at the same time, but remember to add a few snorkels, masks, and fins.

Drive Out And Back

A certain type of traveler finds a resort and stays put.

I met a nice couple at the Grand Hyatt who said they left campus once during their week stay in Hawaii and that was enough because the resort had so much to explore.

Would you rather explore a Hawaiian resort, or a Hawaiian island?

Why not both?

Seems like an easy answer, but baby boomers are all different.

There’s the one who always buys the most expensive plate on every menu, eats half, and not ask for a doggie bag.

Eating, or not eating, is their performance art.

Then there’s those who track down shave ice, fish tacos, and sushi like a Mission Impossible moment.

“This sushi will disappear in ten seconds.”

Writers Write About Where They Are

This is a Koloa resident living near Baby Beach.

It’s a two minute walk from the Little Grass Shack.

Two minutes for someone loaded down with chairs and umbrellas and towels and masks and fins and snorkels.

Otherwise it’s a one minute walk.

It’s popular with families with babies and toddlers and anyone not ready for the open ocean beaches.

Like me, a big baby.

It’s deep enough to float in and swim around, but protected by a barrier reef.

Could a shark jump in? No, so relax.

But I did see a three foot long fish that had to be lost.

I’m looking at it and getting ready to swim after it when it moved.

That’s my snorkel thing, chasing fish like a beach dog chases beach birds.

I know I won’t catch them, but I like staying on their tail as long as I can.

Just as I’m all focused on the chase, my dive partner snuck up behind me to spook me.

It was the best spook work of the year. I nearly jumped out of the water.

After I stopped laughing I looked back and the fish was gone.

Then we spotted an even bigger fish in the shallow clear water to chase down.

2

A traveling group sharing the same house has one main goal: Don’t get locked out.

We didn’t get locked out yesterday, but we couldn’t get in either.

There’s the key, there’s the lock, but it wouldn’t turn.

One of us said we ought to leave the side door open for just such emergencies.

But no, it was locked too.

Our mission, should we accept it, was to get in our house.

We broke in through a side window that wasn’t locked. The screen suffered a little.

Turns out the door lock malfunctioned, then snapped out of it.

We figured it out, but didn’t stop there.

If we’re breaking into places, why not shake a coconut off a neighboring tree?

After slamming the husk into cement a few times it cracked. Then we pulled it apart to the inner seed and found a hammer to crack it.

We saved the coconut milk for daiquiris and pried coconut out with butter knives.

After swimming with scads of tropical fish, cruising old Koloa, and picking up Hawaiian delicacies for dinner, we broke into our house and a coconut.

If writers write about local events, be eventful.