Story Nadine Owen
Photos by Nadine Owen, Debi Lyle and Trina Takasato
May 3, 2026
What a glorious day at Makai Pier—one of those “this is going to be amazing” mornings that slowly turns into “this is going to be a story we tell forever… because we survived it.”
Miraculously, everyone showed up on time (already suspicious), and Stan orchestrated the carpool like a logistics wizard who definitely missed his calling at NASA. Once on the water, we formed what I can only describe as an elite kayak security system: Stan up front, Sandy guarding the flank, and Debi bringing up the rear—basically a human triangle of protection shielding the rest of us, who were far too excited (and underqualified) to notice minor details like fishing lines, shallow reefs, swimmers… you know, hazards.
The wind started out as our best friend—gently pushing us along like, “You got this!”—and we were cruising toward Waimanalo and the Mokes feeling like absolute champions. And then, about 15 minutes in, the wind flipped personalities. Suddenly it was in our faces like, “Actually… no.” Every paddle stroke became a negotiation.
Still, the aquamarine water of Waimanalo was so ridiculously beautiful it almost felt rude to complain, so we kept going… and going… and going. At some point—3 hours? 4 hours? a lifetime?—time lost all meaning. I was too tired to check my phone, and the wind had upgraded to aggressively exfoliating my eyeballs.
But then—land! Sweet, glorious sand at Moku Nui!
My friends Trina and Lila were beyond stoked since it was their first time stepping onto the island, and honestly, we all felt like we’d just completed an expedition worthy of a documentary. I showed them the mini Queen’s Bath tidepool, where we celebrated with a dip and approximately 400 selfies (for survival documentation, obviously). Then we wandered the trail, stumbled upon a stunning bloom of fragrant ‘ilima flowers, and spotted shearwater birds tucked into their little nesting holes.
And yes… we also witnessed two birds enthusiastically continuing their lineage in a way that made us all suddenly very interested in looking elsewhere. Nature is beautiful. Nature is also…bold.
After snacks, water, and Stan taking what can only be described as a heroic nap, we set out again—this time toward Kailua. Somehow, we made it back to shore. Total paddle time: about 7 hours. Emotional time: 3–5 business days.
Then came the final boss battle: dragging and lifting kayaks back to the cars for another 2 hours. Because apparently, the ocean wasn’t done with us yet.
I made it home just in time for dinner… and immediately lost the will to eat it. But shoutout to my $200 used massage chair, which stepped up like an MVP. I melted into that thing for what felt like 7… maybe 9… possibly 12 hours.
All in all: slightly chaotic, mildly traumatic, absolutely unforgettable. Would I do it again?…ask me after my arms stop hurting.
[Editor’s note: The author recovered quickly enough to put together this awesome video the day after.]