Story by Amy Fujimoto
Photos as credited
January 16-19, 2026
By the time I finally rolled into Mālaekahana on the afternoon of January 17th, camp was already in full swing. The weather was a cool 75 degrees, strong winds, and an overcast sky that kept the sun’s harsh rays off us. It looked like rain might make an appearance, but luckily it never did—no soggy tents, no scrambling for tarps, just dry, comfortable camping the whole time.
Hui Waʻa was set up in Campsite B, which turned out to be a great choice. The area is nicely protected with plenty of tree coverage, the ground is mostly flat (a true gift when you’re sleeping in a tent), and every campsite has its own picnic table. Simple comforts, but they make a big difference.
The camping grounds themselves are really well maintained. Clean bathrooms—with full rolls of toilet paper!—and staff who came by a couple times a day to empty the trash cans. While it’s a bit of a trek from the car to the campsite and then down to the beach, as long as you’ve got wheels for your kayak, it’s totally manageable. Consider it part of the adventure.
One of the big hopes for the weekend was a paddle out to Goat Island, but Mother Nature had other plans. The wind was strong, and by Sunday morning the ocean was mostly white water—looking more like White Plains Beach on a very angry day. Bill, who had heroically brought three kayaks with him, made the call to cancel the trip early Sunday morning. Probably a wise choice, even if Goat Island looked beautiful from a distance with all those waves rolling through.
The true highlight of the weekend, though, was on Saturday night.
Eight of us gathered around a campfire in the dark, the kind of moment that makes camping feel special. Kelly and James played excellent hosts with their awesome little camp stove, keeping us warm as we talked story. Mia (Rob’s daughter) made the best decision by far and brought marshmallows and chocolate, which meant s’mores were officially on the menu. Tim and Bill entertained us with kayaking stories, and the newer folks—my mom, Hilary, and myself—were more than happy to listen, ask questions, and soak it all in.
That night we slept surprisingly well. The temperature dropped into the upper 50s, which meant the tent stayed cool and breezy—almost perfect.
Almost.
At approximately 4 a.m., the roosters of Mālaekahana decided it was time to announce the sunrise to the entire island. Loudly. Repeatedly. From everywhere all at once.
Helpful tip for next year’s campers: choose a campsite far away from the chickens.
Less helpful reality: you can hear them from everywhere.
Actual best advice: bring earplugs. Or learn to appreciate farm-style alarm clocks.
Even without the Goat Island paddle, it was a fantastic camping trip. I got to reconnect with familiar faces, meet new ones, and enjoy all the little moments that make these weekends so special. Huge thanks to everyone who made it such a fun time—I’m already looking forward to the next one this year. Hope to see you there!