So I present various vignettes of how one might live if they make the
Cost to set that tent up in the first picture at the above location: $0
I went snooping around the site of the old church and found that all that remained was the graveyard. Many of the graves were marked with piles of rocks, which I am guessing pre-date missionary times.
If you look closely at this gravestone you can see Japanese or Chinese writing.
There were many unknowns that had been removed for some reason.
One morning on a coffee stroll around the point....
Teri decided to give the bathroom a pass, but on a follow up visit, Kerry tries it out, not without some concerns, reservations and advice.
Especially about/to our knowledgeable tour guide, Ava on the left, who was well schooled in the nuances of hippie jungle life. Kerry was worried that Ava might fall in that giant toilet and no one might notice for a day or so.
In the beginning of today's post I stated that my income last year was $5500. I am able to do all of these cool things because my effective income is much higher. In exchange for "volunteering" at an educational yoga retreat center as a chef three times a week I am given the stipend, room and board, classes, laundry, one week vacation every three months, one hell of a social life and so on. I rarely carry a wallet.
So the trade off from where I work and Cinderland? Kalani has three great meals a day, including fresh ahi tuna twice a week, rainwater pool, sauna, laundry and so on and so forth, but it is not a flophouse and you have to work. At Cinderland, work and rules seem much less stringent, but offers no running water, a little off grid solar or maybe no electricity, sporadic prepared meals, (when we stopped in, some very bleary eyed major dudes were cooking breadfruit on an open fire because as we learned, the propane had run out). Even in the day, I liked my creature comforts too much...like icy cold Kona Brewing Company Beer after an arduous day of adventuring to make the trade. Kalani camping is as close to the Earth as I am going to go. Cinderland does have Taco Tuesday every week, a bring your own clean plate (yup, it's that basic) social affair. The day Teri and I stopped in, one of the bleary eyed cooks said it was going to be boiled breadfruit instead of tacos this week.
When on adventures with people, I always stop at Malama flats where the wave action makes photo ops infinite.
In 1955 these series of vents opened up on the eastern fault line of Kilauea volcano. These are rows of splatter cones that are made up of airborne cemented blobs of ash, cinder and splatter (called tephra) next to the the fissure that fed the eruption.
In the 1960 episode, other vents again spewed out enormous amounts of lava and buried all but two subdivisions of the town of Kapoho. At the old site of the town there are some old mailboxes and a steel gate closing off the area. Every time I have driven by this area the gate was locked except one day when Teri and I were driving around. I suggested that we drive out on the lava fields and poke around. We found these buildings but not much more. As we headed back to the road and the gate was locked. Who friggin locked us in?
Teri and I looked at each other as if to say "oh no, two years after the last ghostly encounter and now some spirit thingamajig done gone and locked the gate".
We returned to the building above and eventually encountered a pretty little hippie girl sitting at a table, enjoying some serious bliss time. She seemed nonchalant at best, that we two had just appeared at her table in a shack on a deserted lava field from what should have appeared to her, as out of nowhere.
We explained our predicament and she calmly and kindly told us the key was in the old mailbox.
And sure enough there it was. Who in the fuck locked that gate remains a mystery because we never saw another living soul.
Another day we went to Volcano NP and almost went to the top of Mauna Ulu above. Mauna Ulu was also a flank eruption of Kilauea that erupted massively from 1969-1974. This short hike is not for the easily frightened or the faint at heart.
There are several steamy areas where thin, shelly lava breaks beneath your feet. You may only drop an inch or two but your adrenaline tells you otherwise. The edge of the rim of the crater above is even less stable, is nearly straight down, steaming and crumbling all the time. If you get too close, the edge might break off, you may fall in and then you are *really* out of luck.
It was getting dark and rainy and considering our ghostly encounters together, Teri and I decided to adjourn and agreed to fight the good fight another time.
As Pele would have it, PeopleFlow provided me with major Chicago Cubs fan Kerry, shown here as we summit the crater a month later. Notice those cracks on the rim behind her? To stand on the other side of those cracks to get a selfie of the maw that is getting deeper everyday, is to seriously risk becoming *really* out of luck.
Another shot of Kerry on the crumbly rim looking down into the crater of Mauna Ulu. I was getting vertigo just watching her up there, images of the big fall racing through my head and what exactly I would do about it in this isolated spot, as, well, I had brung her. But she didn't break both legs and spine and we retired to the bar at the Volcano House, where we actually could not sit at the bar because there was a Mets fan there hooting it up at the outcome of the game and this poor child couldn't bear that.
When I want to do nothing somewhere different I usually head out to the Pahoa library or hang out with all the other home free characters at The Tin Shack Bakery The Punatic PeopleFlow stumble in and out from their jungle abodes which makes for great people watching. The great food, drinks and WIFI make for a pleasant morning's diversion. Here Jade from Rotorua, NZ and of Maori descent, joins me for one or their specialities: Eggs Benedict.
Above is the Seaview "subdivision" lawn, that acts as a park of sorts on Red Road. It was a day that a hurricane was passing by a few hundred miles away. Hawaii is such a small target in the huge Pacific that the odds are infinitesimal against a direct hit. Fun doing nothing watching the surf though.
This is the Hawaiian Kingdom flag that you seeing being flown by a certain type of person, not unlike the certain type of person that flies the Confederate flag. Racism works both ways. When these certain types are gathered around either of these flags, both insisting it is a cultural pride thing, I usually go sit somewhere else.
The shots above are of typical small business ahi tuna fishermen that call Pohoiki Park homebase.They are short and stout rigs with lots or horsepower. These fishermen catch the tuna the old fashioned way, with rod and reel.
In August I attended the one week "Tuning into Source" workshop. These workshops are offered to volunteers at a steep discount. An expensive as it is to leave the gates of "the bubble", and expensive as it is for mainlanders to attend these workshops, it behooves me to sometimes make my vacations staycations and stay on property and just chill out. Hangin' out while becoming enlightened at da crib.
That would be Maxwell Starkhouse on the left and Toby Gant on the right, the facilitators of the Source workshop. Our group included guests from Japan, Switzerland and various Western US states. There is a huge market for these workshops folks.
Excepting Jackie, from the not so exotic Shawnee Mission, Kansas. Jacky works hard so she can go to places like Esalen, Omega and Kalani and do the shit she really wants to do in life, but alas, she is trapped on the treadmill. She went on a adventure with Allison and me and got an earful about the differences between being a one week guest and a long term volunteer. Ears musta been a burning of the
Maxwell, Mike from Boulder and Toby relax after lunch and before afternoon classes. Maxwell was the Yin and Toby was the Yang. One afternoon, Toby's Yoga class was so intense, I had to leave because I thought my soul would be better served by reading by the pool. I also puzzled Toby one day by pondering why there is no device to measure the energy flow of chakras. We can measure the wiggling of an electron light years away, we already have such things as electrocardiograms and EKG's to measure all sorts of energies, but why not one for chakras?
The week's activities included Ecstatic Dance, different kinds of Yoga, Sanskrit chanting, pretty much a sampler of every new age concept that is offered in these parts.
Meet Allison from Beaufort SC, a hospitality student and intern in the kitchen with me. We were the two volunteers in the group. Our price for the week was $90.
Mike supports me in the Watsu pool while a beam of pure Hawaiian sunlight (of course) helps facilitate a deep state of relaxation. Watsu was developed at Harbin Hot Springs which sadly burnt to the ground during the recent California wildfires. Many habitues of Kalani frequented Harbin as well. Good luck on the re-building effort there people.
Mike keeps me afloat in the natal/primal broth.
Our group from all over the world. We all left a little more "aligned and balanced".
I could go on about the things I can do on $5500 a year, but I will wrap it up with a camping trip to Hilina Pali, also in VNP. This little shelter is at the end of a nine mile road to the center of VNP, and faces a huge earthquake caused cliff (pali) and is infrequently visited. Asim, Kiwi Lucie and Jon rounded out the team.
When we made it the top of the falls sequence I thought: $5500 a year and we are the only fucking people up here except for two Hawaiian girls gathering some type of tuber or water plant on a goddamned raft? The cost to us was a potentially dangerous jungle walk...fucking free in my book.