News from Waikiki

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February March 08

Walking In Waikiki, With Cloudia Charters, LIVING TREASURES, Mar. 29, 2008

We in Hawaii are lucky to have neighbors who are 'living treasures' some officially recognized, and some who embody and share cultural riches within their families, ohana, or neighborhood. Then there are special people who are 'treasures that will live forever.'

We lost two of them this month: Aunty Genoa Keawe and slack key master/ teacher Ray Kane. Both of them were more than musicians. They were amazing and genuine humans beings. Their music was a rich part of our environment, but their role in keeping humane and technical traditions alive in a time of great change (when much was being lost) remains their true gift.

Like Diamond Head, like the green Ko`olau mountains, they had seemingly always been around – most of us never knew a time without their guidance, without the consolation of their song. Each of them shared their mastery freely, and they each left disciples to carry on. But we will miss their personalities, their presence, just BE-ing around them.

I enjoyed seeing Aunty sing many times, and her heavenly countenance never dimmed. Even with me, a nobody, she found time to share a smile or a little

warm-hearted joke. They lived amazing long lives, and they left us much more than technique and deathless recordings. They left us with examples that define our way of life here in Hawaii. Even as we celebrate their lives and masterwork, we feel shock and pain suffused with deep gratitude. This passing of giants, of a golden age, reminds us to appreciate each and every day. And to let each person we love know that they irreplaceable 'living treasure' to us. . .

The phone rang at midnight – you can imagine how I felt! Too early even for an east coast caller forgetting the time difference. The voice on the other end said: "I'm calling about a cat." A cat?! Is this a joke? "Someone found a slightly injured orange tom wandering on Diamond Head. His microchip has your phone number. I'm calling from the SPCA."

My eyes shot open. Could this be our 2000 adoptee who jumped ship after just a week with our household? We'd taken to referring to him as 'Houdini' for his disappearing act. "Yes, 2000. That's right. What shall we do with him?" By now I had located the prodigal's 'sister' Miss Kitty (adopted that same day) peacefully sleeping on a pile of (formerly) clean laundry. The prospect of dragooning the escapee back to our boat in chains (or a cat carrier) didn't sit right. "Well. . . Um. . ." I said.

"That's OK. The guy who found him wants to adopt him. Whew! These days we enjoy imagining Houdini's wanderings among the low bushes and back streets of Waikiki. We marvel at his 8 years of survival and his amazing luck in finding a friend just in time to retire (mostly) indoors. We like to think of him in his new pal's lap, remembering his many adventures and enjoying a warm hand on his head. . .

Speaking of Diamond Head cats: Berani, the 245 pound male Sumatran tiger at the Honolulu Zoo (at the foot of DH) strolled casually out of his un-latched enclosure the other morning for a walk. Luckily it was hours before the zoo opens, especially since his next-door neighbor is the children's petting zoo/playground, usually SWARMING with (presumably) delicious youngsters and their unarmed grown-ups. In true laid back isle style Berani (described as the "friendliest" of the Sumatrans) took a quick glance around, yawned, and then casually slinked back home again.

City officials were less relaxed about the whole thing, immediately installing new auto-latching devices and several more yards of fencing. I can't help wondering what advice Houdini might have given Berani about survival in Beach Town as they rummaged the dumpsters of Lemon Road. . .

And Speaking of the Zoo: elephants are intelligent. Hey, that rhymes! And it sure is true. Local Indian elephants Mari and Vaigai immediately fixed their expressive dark eyes on us and approached as close as practicable when I pulled out my bamboo flute and played some simple rhythmic toots for them the other day. I managed to continue playing gently even as they swayed side to side and my mind screamed: "Are you SEEING this!" Both elephants answered with deep subtle vocalizations. Chicken skin moment!

Hey, visitors and locals alike seem to be using those new freestanding sidewalk "Explore Waikiki" maps. Good idea! And mahalo plenty to the Honolulu Star-Bulletin's "Water Ways" columnist Ray Pendleton who kindly pointed out my writing "heron" when I meant "egret" in the last column. The man knows boating, AND birds. . .

Big Island Detour: Volcano goddess Pele, solemnly considered "Tutu" or grandmother by Big Island Hawaiians, is putting on quite a show as her lava flows into the sea. Just this week saw a rare explosion (the first since 1924) spewing rocks and ash over 75 acres. A much larger area had to be closed because of toxic, acidic gasses issuing from the pit. But a viewing trail for visitors remains open, just please heed local advice and precautions!

Perhaps you caught the Travel Channel's Tony Bourdain on his recent Hawaii episode. If you did, you saw Tony having a meal with the last hold-out in Royal Gardens Subdivision. That lonely house has at last been reclaimed by Pele. Great timing, Tony! A safer alternative is to visit the web site of one of our local media outlets for thrilling video on your desktop. (kgmb, kitv, khnl, khon or local press!) No lava-walking for me, though. I'm too busy enjoying the beauty right here. . . Walking in Waikiki. . . ALOHA!

Be sure to check out Cloudia's Hawaii novel: "Aloha Where You Like Go?" at Amazon.com, local bookstores, or the Hawaii State Library. One reviewer called it "More informative than a guidebook, more personal than a diary!"

Walking in Waikiki, No Tourists in Town! With Cloudia Charters 2.29.08

That's right. We call them "visitors" as in Hawaii Visitors Bureau. I've always liked that old fashioned way of thinking about folks from elsewhere. It speaks of our local pride, identification with our island home, our traditional spirit of welcome. They all manage to hang on somehow – even in our topsy-turvy day.

The real Waikiki, the genuine Hawaii, they still exist. Some visitors are fooled by our modern tempo and amenities, but for those with a heart to see beyond the "attractions" there is authenticity. The key is to bring some of your own along with you. . .

Usually a construction fence conceals only the fascinating activities of competent people inside, but when such a fence blocks ones daily view of Diamond Head, well, that's real deprivation.

I'm happy to report that the opening of the Duke Kahanamoku Lagoon with its fresh springs and beautiful landscaping has also restored the famous view from Ala Wai Harbor. A dirty obstacle to daily walks up the beach has emerged as an oasis. . .

I have to admit that it's been a bit rainy in Waikiki this winter. Rainy perhaps, but in a beautiful tropical WARM way! Pictures of blizzards and tornados from the "continent" sure put a little sweet rain into perspective. And when the skies do clear, WOW!

Today driving into Kailua I saw a city worker mowing the grassy median, followed by an assistant: a tall white egret looking for stirred-up snacks. Ah the smell of fresh-cut grass! Especially sweet in February. . .

Pushing my cart out of Safeway on Beretania Street I heard a familiar and thrilling sound: gongs, cymbals and drums announced that a traditional Chinese Lion Dance was blessing Queen Ka`ahumanu Elementary School across the street for Chinese New Year. Even five lanes of traffic can't block out that magical music. Kung Hee Fat Choy everybody!

My ears are still ringing from Saturday's "Night in Chinatown" with my favorite husband and our new pals George and Joey Cattermole of the San Gregorio (California) General Store. Memories of his Iolani school days lured George (a retired Stanford University Philosophy professor) back to our beach town for a spell and we're glad to know him.

The general store has sold more copies of my novel: "Aloha Where You Like Go?" than any bookstore in Hawaii, and Dr. Cattermole has even nominated my story for a coveted William Saroyan literary award! You can see why I was very happy to buy these visitors a quick drink at Duc's Bistro on Maunakea Street before showing them around the New Years wonderland of America's oldest Chinatown. Every year is better than the last! See YOU for the next? (Check your calendar and travel agent). .

DVD tip: Ever seen the excellent film, "Picture Bride?" It tells the story of the people who created our Hawaii of today, the plantation workers. A beautiful, beautiful film that is like a visit to a cherished place. Check it out, and perhaps you'll understand why I'm tearing up just TELLING you about it! Actually, the lion dance blessing that is closest to my home is the annual blessing of Ala Moana Shopping Center. To see 12 lions and their accompanying musicians riding up and down the escalators, going in and out of Armani, Macy's, Longs Drugs, and the food court where I walk several times a week on mundane errands turns the every day into a magical reality. . .

And speaking of Ala Moana we MUST observe the passing of Patti's Chinese Kitchen after 40 years! This family was the first to provide our town with take-away, plate lunch style, LOCAL style Chinese food, including baked goods. Longtime fans (like me!) will be making the journey out to Pearl Ridge Shopping Center where the Chun family will continue to operate this local culinary treasure. And, yes, there is a Patti! For that we are grateful, among the many other gifts that go along with walking in Waikiki. . . Aloha! (Great to be back!)

In Columbus' footsteps, Papa Al, Feb. 11, 2008

I did it. I sailed the Atlantic. Flew to Oakland, then Chicago, to Dublin (Aer Lingus was the cheapest to Europe), London, on the Eurostar to Paris, back to London, fly to Teneriffe in the Canary Islands, get on a 53 foot long sailboat and sail 2700 miles to the Caribbean, landed at Martinique, worked our way up the Windwards to Dominica, Les Saintes, Guadaloupe, and finally to Antigua. Fly home.

Took six weeks. Seventeen days at sea.

This is my best picture. It's at Petit Anse d'Arlet on Martinique. Look it up. Crystal clear water. Sand bottom. Tiny, quaint little town with a church steeple, They speak French in Martinique.

I'll take you through it step by step. First, the flight over. About 36 hours of travel time, 12 hours layover in Chicago. For a Hawaii boy, getting out of an airport and catching a subway is daunting. I did a lot of research on the web. Caught the El to the Loop and got off downtown. Everything went according to plan. I found Millennium park, there was snow on the ground, it had stormed the weekend before. Checked my hand carry bag at the Hard Rock Hotel on Michigan Avenue. You don't want to lug it all over town.

Walked to the John Hancock Center, the 2nd tallest building in Chicago, the Sears Tower is the tallest, but Michigan Avenue is THE street in Chicago. It's got all the shops and the bustle. Chicago does not pull any punches with their Christmas decorations. Bought a pair of gloves from Sears on sale for $10. It was cold. But I lost one hand immediately.

This is the Chicago Bean

Then back to flying. Short stop at Dublin. And a four hour layover in London before catching a train. I took a quick ride on the Tube to Buckingham Palace. The maps available free on the internet are amazing. Caught the Victoria-Blue line to Green Park, no problem. Took some pictures and back to St. Pancras station. Just like an oldtimer.

I amaze myself. Got into Gare de Nord in Paris, got on the metro two stops, changed line, followed signs, one more stop to Grands Boulevard, pick the right exit, 50 feet to Passage Jouffrey, and at the end of a long alley way, my hotel, like a pro!

In three nights, I saw every famous spot in Paris. I walked, rode the bus, and caught the metro to the Folies Bergere, Galleries Lafayette, the Opera, Arc du Triumphe, Eifel Tower, Orsay Musee, Latin Quarter, Notre Dame, the Louvre, Sacre Couer, and Champs Elysee. I caught a French pop rock act in a bistro, found a live jazz group in a tiny club just north of the Seine, and had a regular breakfast of fresh squeezed orange juice and a croissant at my favorite street cafe, watching Paris go by.

Back to London. In a day, I visited Trafalgar Square, Soho, Picadilly Circus, Tower of London and Convent Garden. I rode a double decker bus. And spent Christmas with my cousin in Yoxford, Suffolk County, about two hours northeast of London. Our river cruise was cancelled due to heavy fog. We went fishing on the North Sea in absolutely ridiculous cold.

Then I flew to Tenerife in the Canary Islands, caught a ferry to La Gomera and began the sailing portion of my trip. We enjoyed New Year's Eve in La Gomera Spanish style. The band came in at 8:30 a.m. to begin setting up. They were still doing sound checks at 6 p.m. I asked when they were going to actually play. The party starts at midnight. That's how they do it there. They dance from midnight to 8 a.m. The women are dressed in formal gowns, strapless and some backless in about 40 degree cold. Anything to look good. The guys have on tuxedos.

Sailing is a kind of lifestyle experience. Everyday is pretty much the same. You stand watch. You try to catch up on your sleep. And you eat. Eating is the high point of your day. The motion is constant, and we lost weight, just trying to hang on, rocking the pounds away.

We had a great sail, from an overall point of view. No storms. Not even big rain. Steady wind. It could be a little frightening at time, but you get used to it. If the boat hasn't sunk in a few hours of wind, it's not going to sink, right?

You don't think much about, "This is how Columbus did it, right?" Because you know, it isn't. Columbus didn't have hot water everyday. He didn't have a freezer and fridge. He couldn't eat fresh tomatos 10 days out. I don't think his crew took a bath everyday. And they sure didn't watch their progress on the computer as plotted with a GPS satellite gizmo.

Also we don't have to steer. We have auto pilot. This is a huge thing. Steering across the entire ocean would be a tremendous strain.

Brrr, it was cold to start

So the days piled up. It also counted down. We knew how much time we had to go before seeing land again, something Columbus did not enjoy. At least, not the first time.

Finally....

Land ho!

We landed on the island of Martinique.

The first stop was Marin, a huge sailing center in the Caribbean, hundreds of boats, lots of them huge boats owned by apparently millionaires. We spent a few days doing the essentials, like laundry, eating ice cream, looking around. Then we began a leisurely exploration north, looking for quaint anchorages in beautiful spots.

Our first, looking back, was the best, Petit Anse d'Arlet. This is the first picture above. It came the closest to my vision of the Caribbean. Most of the Caribben is quite built up, very many nice houses, very steep and rugged, volcanic, not many white sand coral beaches.

Next was Fort-de-France. I liked it. It was a city of about 350,000. The downtown is mostly 3-4 stories. Lots of clothes stores. They must really like to dress. And the women are stunning. They are mostly black, very slender, and sexy looking. Plus, they speak French, that adds to the allure.

Going north, we enjoyed St. Pierre. This town used to be the Paris of the Caribbean, until 1903 when a huge eruption killed every resident except two. The governor at the time kept postponing an evacuation because he knew it would be economically devastating. Then suddenly what had been a mostly tame eruption exploded with hot, heavy gases rolling down the mountain to engulf the town in seconds. One of the two survivors was a prisoner who was being held in solitary behind yards of stone in the dungeon.

Next was Dominica. We were approached by Eric Spaghetti, who makes his living trying to help yachts with fruits or local anchoring knowledge or tours, whatever you need. Then to the Saintes, which are a little known group of tiny islands about five miles south of Guadaloupe. The Saintes were very nice, we had a great anchorage at Pain de Sucre or Sugar Loaf, but it was a cruise liner town and everything was expensive. It cost us 20 euros for lunch, beef carpaccio, soda and ice cream. That's $30 US.

Finally, Antigua. This island was a major British stronghold for years. The major yachting harbor is called English Harbor, and it contains an old fort now called Nelson's Dockyard. Lord Nelson was once garrisoned there. Now, it's part of an Antiguan national park.

Antigua is now one of the centers in the Caribbean for mega yachts. The airport has a special hangar for private jets, complete with its own customs and immigration officers. Nearby is a private pier for the speedboats that serve as tenders to the mega yachts of the rich and powerful. Also, Eric Clapton owns a house on Antigua. I asked several people if they knew Eric. They all answered, "Eric who?"

I caught a bus instead of a private yacht to St. John's, the capitol. It was a quaint kind of city. Low rise, kind of backwards and slightly dirty. There were two very large cruise liners at the dock and two huge dockside malls that catered to the cruisers. In Honolulu, the dockside shops that face the ocean are usually restaurants. At St. John's, the dockside shops were diamond shops. The restaurants were further in.

We found a tiny restaurant without a name. The sign simply said restaurant. We went up a stairs and there was a barber shop. We turned to leave, but the man said, no, stay, eat, have a hair cut. My friend and skipper, Denny, decided to get a haircut. I went to sit on one of two tables, and it was in what looked like an apartment kitchen, home sized refrigerator, four burner stove, kitchen sink. Lila, the owner, assured me it was a restaurant. She said many people found her place because people on the boat talked. She said some crews regularly ate at her place whenever they were in St. John's. We had stew pork, rice and salad. Not bad. Sort of like a plate lunch here. Seven euros, about $10 US. Cheaper than the carpaccio.

Well, that's about it. Flew back to Hawaii. Trying now to get back into the grove.

Alvin Koo, aka Papa Al, has been a writer and public relations practitioner in Hawai‘i for 30 years. His book “Stuff Nobody Told Me” can be found at http://papaalhawaii.htohananet.com/stuff.htm and his private tours of Oahu are at http://papaalhawaii.htohananet.com/papa3.htm

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