As the song goes, “They say that Maui nō ka ‘oi, and I agree.” Once upon a time, when he didn’t have to fight the snaking line of tourist buses choking Hana Highway, he’d have agreed wholeheartedly. Now, well, maybe not so much.
It was a simpler time back then, he thought as he waited for a line of cars to clear. The sun was sinking faster than he’d anticipated, and he wasn’t sure now if he could make it to Hana, then negotiate the tricky highway back to Kahului in the dark.
He and his father had fished the area around the Hana Beach Park when he was a kid. That memory had spurred him to go back to the place where they’d shared one of those special times. A day trip. The urge to get back had just come upon him last night.
The vehicles ahead of him were pulling over to let an especially large tour bus come through from the opposite direction. What a mess, he thought.
Not just the traffic. The whole timing problem.
He looked at his watch. So many people interested in seeing Hana. Maybe they would make their special connections now, the way he’d made his so many years ago.
The exit sign to Ke‘anae loomed ahead. The sun slipped lower. It was a moment of decision.
Poor planning, he thought. Every time.
Sighing, he took the road down toward the ocean. I’ll fly over earlier in the day next time, he thought. Drive out here at sunrise. Beat the traffic.
The parking lot at the Ke‘anae beach park was jammed. Unbelievable. He circled the lot, slowly, round and round.
Finally a tour van pulled out. Parking, he eased himself out, his legs cramped from the endurance drive. He limped a little going toward the rocks.
Old age. What a mess.
Off in the distance, he could make out the approximate location of the Hana beach park. Nearing the seaside, he began to ease himself over the boulders to get closer to the water.
“Careful,” came a voice from behind him.
He turned to look back. An old man, fishing pole and net in one hand and a bucket in the other was making his way toward the water as well.
No hands, he thought. This guy does this a lot.
“Yeah, careful is right,” he said. “I’m getting a little old to climb over all these rocks.
The man laughed, sitting down beside him. “Old. Eh, I bet I more old than you.”
He examined the man’s face. This was probably true.
“You local?” the old man asked. “You not just one tourist, huh?”
He laughed. “Well, kind of. It’s been a long time since I came to Maui. I was driving out from Kahului to see Hana. My dad and I used to fish there. Small kid time, you know? I was trying to go back and see the place.”
“That’s good,” said the old man. “Good you go there, remember your dad.”
“Well, I can’t do it now,” he said. “It’s too late. I canna handle the drive back in the dark on the highway.”
“Ah,” the old man said. “So try again tomorrow.”
“I’m only here for the day,” he said.
“Oh,” said the old man, nodding.
“Please,” he said, “Can you take a picture of me?”
“Yeah, sure, sure.”
He handed the old man his phone.
“Can you catch me with Hana behind me?”
Maneuvering carefully over the rocks so he could stand at the water’s edge, he turned to face the old man. “Okay,” he called.
The old man gave a thumbs up. “Got it,” he called.
He eased himself back and looked at the photo. “That’s perfect,” he said. “Thank you for doing that.”
“No problem. Eh, for now the picture good enough, yeah? But next time, you make it to Hana for your dad.”
Lanning Lee 