South K-Bay Mangrove Mosey

Kāne‘ohe Bay Beach Park a short sandy shoreline with a view of Mōkapu peninsula (which is the site of Marine Corps Base Hawaii). In 2021, the city renamed this beach park at the end of Waikalua Road, “Nāoneala‘a a Kāne‘ohe”, which means “the sands of La‘amaikahiki.” La‘amaikahiki , in the “The sands of La‘amaikahiki,” is named after the chief La‘a who inherited Oahu. La‘a was born on Oahu in the 12th century AD, but left to become royalty in Tahiti. While in Tahiti, La‘a inherited the Hawaiian kingdom, so La‘a returned to the fertile land, the farmers and the keepers of fish in fish ponds, with great fanfare and the sound of drums, to this very spot.

In 1737 a peace accord was struck here by the chiefs of Oahu and Kauai, all wearing traditional attire and accompanied by wa‘a (canoes) that lined the shore of the bay from Mōkapu- Marine Corps Base to this park, Kāne‘ohe Bay Beach Park. High Chief Alapai and High Chief Peleioholani met on the shore, splendidly dressed in cloaks of Red bird feather and in helmet-shaped head coverings decorated with more feathers.¹

As we all arrived for our Sunday paddle, Katrina and Randy glided into shore on a yellow tandem kayak. They didn’t have to park a car and were set to go. It wasn’t the arrival of Polynesian Vikings, it was more like a quiet Seneca Nation of New York canoe. Our numbers were approaching 20. The plan was to paddle to the Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club and be the guests of a founding club member, Rusty Lillico. The marina stopover would be a halfway point, mid-paddle. Have brunch for an hour and half, then return. Some were leaving after brunch at the Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club and not making the return paddle to this shore. They parked their cars near the yacht club and climbed into the pickup to ride back to us at the park. We launched on a cloudy day, wind 10 to 15 over the water, with consistent wave and troughs. I wouldn’t call it choppy, but it was not calm.

Personally, this was the maiden voyage for my Ocean Kayak Prowler 15. I didn’t use the rudder since I needed to familiarize to the feel and topside areas of this kayak. A broken rudder mechanism would unnecessarily distract. My iPhone was plenty of an attention-getter already. The floating pocket case for my iPhone had the side effect of heating whatever was inside. The iPhone, which had an aluminum shell casing, was velcroed and tied securely between my legs. Most of the vinyl floating pocket skin was shaded, but not all of it. Upon arrival at the yacht club, the solitary darkened message said, “iPhone is too hot to operate”. This is not good for long battery life. From now on, I plan to be mindful of cool places on the kayak along with exposed skin on my body. Summary kayak comparison: the Prowler is superior to my old Scrambler because it goes easier into current and wind and has less bow slap. It worked well.

We first plowed into crest and trough, with the innumerable perturbations swiping and dimpling each surface to behold. The kayak control panel is really our presence, our witness in the quick succession of water, seafloor and lurking clouds. The ceaseless teasing clues for wherewithal in the volume of the water depth and our skin having the entire day prepped with just sun lotion. The fundamental forces of nature are understood by the predictable symmetries in their operation. In particle physics bosons are grouped by symmetry transformations, because the operations that change the system in some way leave certain properties unchanged, i.e., like rotating a square by 90 degrees leaves it looking the same. You get a sense paddling a kayak that we constantly detect changes in position that do not make a difference. We impose the idea of symmetry back into the noise of nature to navigate it. Each stroke with the paddle has the reevaluation of symmetry. Once I slowed and went to the back of the paddling group dealing with the unforeseen inside the cockpit. The issue was resolved as just scupper hole fascination with a fumbled iPhone. Call it copacetic symmetry.

Paul was talking to people watching us from the shore. Gina French, who was a first timer with the group, used a Oru folding kayak to good effect. We arrived at the Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club with the main boat docks on either side of us. The shore dock was nice, as we could disembark from our kayaks with a swimming pool ladder and four handed helpers. The food was good and the trophy case was a trip. The Kāne‘ohe Yacht Club has been at its present site since 1955. We watched a few WASZPs zip around the marina as we paddled around the rows of boats.

After the final stretch of the return paddle back to Kāne‘ohe Bay Beach Park, paddle leader Bill Murphy took the 5 remaining kayaks up the Kāne‘ohe Stream.² With the ocean rush into the mouth of the stream, we could have surfed the small but constant waves. We thought it would be difficult getting back out, but we all did it fast and deliberate. As we passed the kids fishing on the sides, the water became much calmer upstream. A little further, the Kāne‘ohe Bay View Golf Course appeared on our left. Surprisingly, the golf course had no bridge over the stream for the 5th hole. The 108 yard hole was no longer connected by any walkable means. This disappearing bridge happened sometime in the last 6 months, and fortunately, no part of that structure was evident in the stream. We just passed the concrete on the bank like it was another leftover from World War II. Past that point, the smooth current was now against us, going upstream toward jungle surroundings. Stan, Ben and Dylan ventured the furthest. Into the overgrowth, the overhang, the insect periphery, right on their way to the Bridge On The River Kwai. Bill thinks it was another 100 yard. We all rode the current back out and Kāne‘ohe Bay Beach Park was just a lazy left turn from the mouth of the stream. This paddle wasn’t an athletic endeavor as much as it was a tour of friends appreciating a small part of the spectacular Kāne‘ohe Bay.