I was oddly calm. This day was to be like no other, yet here I was panic-free and perfectly content. I stepped out from the shade of my cabin in to the intense heat of the Hawaiian sun and inhaled deeply, the air smelling deliciously of frangipani. Three Tables Beach was thirty seconds away from my front door. Haleiwa, on the island of Oahu, had been a wise choice.
Hawaii is a place where the senses can play. My feet sank in to the searing hot sand, the large grains smooth and sun-baked bronze. I sprinted in to the ocean and with a splash I was engulfed in the sparkling surf. Rather than enjoying the gentle swim I had anticipated, the waves tossed me about like a beach ball. All dignity lost and bikini only just intact, I swiftly rejoined my new friends on dry land. Jake was visibly nervous, his hands dancing by his sides. Lucky was feeling, well…lucky I suppose. This had all been his idea in the first place.
We decided to hitchhike. Our destination wasn’t too far away and it is common practice on the North Shore. Only yesterday a lovely lady had picked us up on her way home from work, giving us a local tour all the way, even stopping to show us the local celebrity sea turtle who was basking in the evening sun, beautiful and gentle and wise. The people here emanate a certain wisdom too – one that comes from living in such a rich and violently alive landscape – as well as a profound respect for the ocean, which has such an esteemed role to play in this land of surfers.
Thumbs out and two minutes later we tumbled in to the back of a pick-up truck, a mom, dad and baby girl tucked together in the front. The wind buffeted our smiling faces as we wound along the glittering coastline. This felt like freedom. Once the ordeal was over, we had plans to hotfoot it to Matsumoto’s, where the traditional Hawaiian shave ices are divine, a rainbow of flavour perfectly thirst-quenching on a sizzling hot day.
The rich history of these Polynesian islands is apparent everywhere; in every well-preserved sacred site and every step performed by the elegant hula dancers who grace Waikiki’s shore with their talents. The Gods are showing off here, having flexed their celestial muscles to shape and sculpt the powerfully impressive landscape. The Goddesses have also clearly had their say, balancing the masculine strength of the volcanic earth with delicate sprinklings of white, yellow, pink and orange flowers, all oozing a heady, heavenly scent.
We arrived at Dillingham airfield. As I jumped down from the truck to express my thanks I realised my knee caps had liquefied and my heart was beating twice its usual pace. Was this really happening? The glare of the sun bounced off the aeroplane’s propellers. In a blank daze and under the influence of adrenaline and temporary loss of sanity, the three of us boarded, along with our fellow thrill-seekers.
The din of the engine hammered my eardrums, but not once did it silence the quivering voice in my mind; ‘It’s going to be OK…I think. The guy strapped to your back seems nice, if not a little crazy…just-keep-breathing…’ We broke through a ceiling of cloud. Jake and I exchanged wide-eyed looks and I laughed, invigorated and bestowed with a sudden urge to leap in to the welcoming arms of Oahu. Lucky threw himself in to the sky, yelling incoherent words of joy and exhilaration. I was next. One last breath. ‘Here we go’.
And just like that, I jumped…
30 January, 2012 9:01 am
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