Another day in paradise and the clear weather continues. Blue cloudless skies leaving only the island of Maui holding onto rings of cloud that circumnavigate the mountains crater top. Leaving only the craggy peaks visible. The cloud ring I imagine sliding down the slopes as the heat of the sun increases throughout the day. Our shared house is located adjacent to a golf course of verdant green grass trimmed just millimetres from its surface soil. Odd shaped bunkers with white sand dot the green, waiting to catch an errant ball. While piles of rusty brown and black lava rock, create golf ball eating monsters that will swallow a ball whole given half a chance. In the distance usually swaying palm trees have stopped their dance as the ocean beyond lies still. The golf course is busy this morning, more carts than usual are whizzing from one whole to the next. They stop, disgorge their passengers who limber up and strike the ball, then remount their four wheeled steeds and are on their way again. Not sure where the exercise is in that. There appears to be club marshals in their own carts, stopping to talk to golfers, we speculate that this is required to move those halted golfers on as the course bottle necks in front of us. Then there’s the refreshment cart going from hole to hole to drum up business. A cold beer or soda would go down well with those club wielding players as they are stuck out in the heat of the sun. Searching for that little ball of dimpled white in a field of green, or worse still chipping the ball out of a sandy bunker, or the bordering on impossible task of retrieving it from a treacherous lava field.
It’s a domestic day today, each of us busily catching up on those little chores that oil the wheels of life as we move along this shared timeline.
By the time we venture out the midday sun is high in the sky, reminding me of an old quote about mad dogs and Englishmen being the only ones to venture out at this time of day. But we are tempted to investigate the Hawaiian fishponds and petroglyph field that sit adjacent to the Mauna Lani Beach club. Sunscreen, hats and sunglasses are our first priority, Jimmy chauffeurs us in our six person electric golf cart down to the path that will take us to the petroglyphs. We are expecting a reasonable hike but the pathway is a short one, not long at all. The pathway becomes circular bordered by small lava boulders with slabs of flat rock propped up like pieces of broken black concrete from a demolition site. These slabs have figures chiseled into them, depicting warriors with spears, dancers and other images that one can only guess about. Despite the obvious cultural and historical significance of these pieces there is an anticlimactic feeing about the site, as it so obviously staged. Not at all the journey of discovery we had anticipated. Although, had we wanted to be more adventurous we could have taken a rocky track through a dark tangled wood that had the look of some petrified forest from a one of Grim’s tales of our childhood. We send Jimmy in but he doesn’t see any clear path to grandma’s cottage and quickly returns. The only animate creature we see using are the mongoose that are particularly prevalent and nonchalant about our presence in this area.
From the petroglyph field the ocean is just a short walk, here the coast is sharp edged black lava contrasted by white sandy shell grit, that on close inspection is made up of broken pieces of bleached fossilised coral and water and time worn pebbles. Beyond this monochrome strip the turquoise ocean glitters in the searing sunlight.
The petroglyph field explored we move on to the historic fish ponds. Hawaiian fishponds, or loko I’a are ancient aquaculture systems that were crucial for food production in ancient Hawaii. These cleverly designed ponds, often built along shorelines, allowed for the controlled cultivation of fish and other marine life. They represent the sophisticated level of understanding of marine ecosystems and sustainable resource management that Hawaiians had developed.
The ponds are literally teaming with fish, big and small. Stirring the waters as they twist and turn, occasionally flashing their silver underbellies that reflect the sunlight through the clear waters of the pond. Small crabs skitter around the edges of the pond feeding on any algae, microscopic creatures or decaying organic material they can find. Back at the house, the golf course scene from mountain to sea is delightfully calming, the air still and clear, not a breeze stirs the palm trees. Tonight the sunset creates a pinkish golden glow across the sky, there are no clouds to reflect the suns rays this evening so instead the sun paints the entire sky in its own rose gold image.
The islands of Hawaii sit in the northern hemisphere between 2000 and 2400 kilometres north of the equator. The main islands of the group range from 19 to 22 degrees north latitude. Cacao trees like to grow naturally in a band 20 degrees north or south of the equator. It’s no surprise then that chocolate would be an ideal agricultural crop for Hawaii. The surprise is that they hadn’t picked up the crop earlier. The first cacao trees were planted in Hawaii in the 1830s, with some sources citing a Guatemalan variety in the gardens of King David Kalakaua. Another account mentions Dr. William Hillebrand introducing cacao in 1850, potentially on land that is now part of the Foster Botanical Garden. The planting of these trees didn’t result in any commercial cacao farming, some tried but faced challenges, including disruptions from wars, fluctuating prices, and a lack of consistent local commercial interest. A turning point came in the 1996, with the establishment of Hawaii’s agricultural giant the Dole Food Company ( known more for its pineapple plantations ) planting a 20-acre cacao farm on Oahu’s North Shore. Encouraged by Dole’s successful growing of this demanding tree, small independent farms followed with similar success leading to the rise of the bean-to-bar chocolate production in Hawaii. Today, Hawaii is known for its unique, high-quality cacao and craft chocolate, with both large-scale farms like Waialua Estate and smaller, artisanal producers contributing to the industry. Cacao trees take a long time to fruit between 5-7 years, so patience is required.
Today we set off in search of chocolate to be found in Honoka’a on the Big island’s north shore, 45 miles (53 kilometres) north west of where we are staying. Here we are told there is a cacao plantation and manufacturing facilities. Amanda decides to stay at home, a severe case of nasal congestion brought on by the huge amount of cut grass as golf course maintenance crews keep the fairways in tip top condition. The stillness of the air keeping the grassy pollen laden air hanging around longer than normally could be expected. Our route takes us north along the Queen Kaʻahumanu Hwy, Then west at Kawaihae Road to Waimea rising in altitude all the time. The dry brown slopes turning into green pastures as we do so. From Waimea we turn northeast towards the northern coastline until we reach the little historic town of Honoka’a.
On first sighting this is a captivating town with a very obvious Japanese influence. Remnants of Japanese and Portuguese culture remain left over from the bygone sugar cane industry. The small population of 2-3000 is mixed but dominated by Asian and White residents. Since the demise of sugar cane as the main agricultural product, the district went into decline. In need of reinventing itself pineapple made a resurgence and coffee, papaya, macadamia nuts as well as tea have added to the mix. Like Waimea cattle ranching plays an important part in the towns economy. Now cacao is being successfully grown here there is potential for this to add to the tourism industry and home grown consumption. The global cocoa beans market is valued at USD 13.54 billion for 2023 for a total of 5 million tons and is projected to reach USD 23.54 billion by 2030. But political instability and climatic conditions play a big part with the yield only 4.5 million tons in 2024 due to smaller harvest volume in Africa. Ghana, Nigeria, and Cameroon producing approximately 70% of the world’s cocoa beans.
Here we are though in this tiny town of Honoka’a that has turned its Main Street into a historic shopping district. Between the buildings there are enticing glimpses of the Pacific Ocean. Honoka’a is known in Hawaii for its musical festival that hosts Hawaiian, classical, folk and jazz musicians from around the state. Our first stop off is a quaint book shop, the only one in town and a recent one at that. The shop assistant/owner, a retired medical research scientist tells us the store is well patronised, good to hear a successful story in a town seeking revival. I find a children’s book with local character and a good life message to take home to Lincoln our approaching four years great grandson.
Then on to the main course chocolate. The shop’s assistant is well versed in chocolate making, guiding us through the different blends from plain milk and dark concentrations. They also have a few flavoured blends using bourbon and rum. They also use goats cheese, in one blend, not to my liking at all. The 70% plain dark chocolate is my personal favourite, but the 85% not being as bitter as my usual experience came in a close 2nd. The rum and bourbon blends showed a real talent for showcasing those flavours, anyone who enjoys those spirits would thoroughly enjoy them.
Tasting over and purchases made we ask for recommendations for lunch and are directed to “I Luv Dumplings” a Japanese restaurant with an Hawaiian twist. I order the Gyoza pork dumplings and steamed yuzu pork buns Japanese style filled with lime marinated braised pork, delicious!
Time to drive back to Waimea and down the hill to our shared home. We are back just a short while when out of the blue, loud alarms go off on all our phones in unison, tsunami alert. Tsunami ‘s in my world happen in some far off exotic places, not right here around me, so it is with some anxiety and disbelief that we tune into the local TV where breaking news is reporting of a substantial earthquake registering 8.7 off the coast of eastern Russia near the Kamchatka peninsula. The predicted effects of this event would see analyst suggest that waves up to 10 feet could be expected to hit the Hawaiian islands. Not only that but there would be a wrap around effect that could cause the waves to hit all of the various islands low lying areas. Of course this means tourist resort areas and beaches. A quick check and a confirmation call from our property manager is all we need to know that we are indeed in the evacuation zone. Do we stay or do we go? That is the question, we decide to wait it out for a while to see how the situation develops. The TV presenters are pushing the seriousness of the situation, one going as far as to say have no doubt, this is the real deal. Further calls with our property manager have us realising that we need to start packing an overnight case including passports, valuables etc. next question where to go? Amanda’s brother Gary and sister in law Tracey are isolating from Covid up in their home town of Waimea. Since we have no where else to go, Gary and Tracey graciously allow us to camp on their spacious front porch. The tension is mounting as we load the rental car with our overnight bags and anything that maybe useful, like toilet paper and beach towels and head back to the elevated town of Waimea.
The roads out of the Mauna Lani and Mauna Kea resort region are streaming with traffic, long lines snaking up the hills towards Waimea. The trip taking far longer than it usually would. Once there we settle in on Gary and Tracey’s spacious front porch, to await information on the tsunami as it comes in on the local TV news feed. In the process we drink a little of his wine and order Thai food from a local restaurant. All the restaurants and hotels are full this evening, resulting in a long wait for food. The tsunami is due to hit at 7.00pm, an anxious wait ensues. By 8.00pm we are still waiting and by 9.30pm the warning is downgraded to advisory. We attempt to make a run for it after being advised by our property manager that the roads are now open. They are not and we are turned back by the boys in blue. Once again back at Gary & Tracey’s we are this time preparing to spend the night. For the next couple of hours we watch the news waiting for the break through that never comes. The new programs leave us hanging at advisory, no definitive “You can go home now” then they go dark. We search for any advice we can on line but to no avail. At 11.30pm we call it a day, it’s time to go home. Jimmy had earlier curled up in the back of the car, as our nominated driver I wake him, groggily he awakes and we load the car again. Say our goodbyes and head off into the pitch black night down the hill to our Mauna Lani home. This time there are few vehicles on the road, police and emergency service vehicles pass us in the opposite direction but there are no roadblocks or a police presence to stop us from our intended destination. As we drive into the Mauna Lani resort area we are relieved that the whole event is over. Soon the refugees are back in their own comfortable beds, snoring loudly. It’s not until 10.00 am the next morning that the emergency alert sounds on all our phones in sync giving us the all clear.
