Category Archives: Activities

Game bird guzzler

On a recent hike, I came across this contraption. What I liked most about it was its name – Game Bird Guzzler. It’s basically a device for providing a source of water for game birds. The way it works is that when rain hits the roof of this structure, it’s collected in a gutter and piped into the back into the tank. This water is then fed, through the white pipe, into the small basin at the front. There’s a flap in the basin so that when a game bird such as a turkey takes a drink, its head will push the flap and release more water into the basin.

When I was there, I didn’t see any turkeys or other game birds, but my approach prompted great activity and squawking as a good number of assorted finches and African silverbills took to the surrounding trees. They sat there, refusing to return to the water but not leaving either. The area surrounding the guzzler was alive with bird calls in an area otherwise not noticeably populated.

Eventually I gave up waiting for a bird to take a drink and moved on. No doubt, within a few minutes the guzzler was again crowded with small birds.

Truck stuck

While I always prefer to take smaller, winding roads, such roads taken are not without pitfalls.

The last mile of the journey to Mo’okini Heiau in North Kohala is an uneven dirt road studded with rocks. When the road is dry it can be navigated by almost all vehicles (I saw a smart car there once!). However, care is needed, particularly regarding clearance. Almost every time I walk the road, I see fresh scrapes on the rocks. With rainy weather, the road becomes the territory of 4-wheel drives and jacked-up suspensions.

On this day, the puddles that often form on the road had become lakes. This truck had passed me earlier and when I saw it returning I ducked behind a bank to do a little whale watching and avoid the wave of spray that would surely accompany anything driving through the lake. A few minutes passed. I realized I hadn’t registered the truck passing. It had gone very quiet. So I wandered out to the road again and saw the truck marooned. They’d made it through on the way out, but weren’t so lucky on the way back.

The truck was a 4×4 but not with extra clearance. I think their problem was that the lake was deeper at the far end (in the photo). On the way out, they’d no doubt barreled into the water and their momentum had carried them to shallower waters and out. On the way back, the same approach would have propelled them toward the deep end. I suspect a bow wave built up, slowed them, and allowed water to penetrate parts of the truck that responded unfavorably.

The two young local men seemed quite cheerful. They waded through the muddy water, tried to coax life into the truck. One was on the phone (a miracle to have service there). After they insisted they had everything under control, I walked past on the high bank alongside the road, then turned and took this photo. When I returned a half hour or more later, the truck and its occupants were gone.

Going to the flow

I posted here about the current flow from Kilauea Volcano entering the sea, in a dramatic, firehose-like outpouring. In that post, I mentioned that the day after my visit, a cliff collapse caused the firehose to disappear from view. Things have settled down again and the firehose is once more visible, though another large crack not far back from the cliff is expected to cause another collapse soon.

From the Kalapana side, it’s about four miles to the viewing area and a thriving trade in bike rentals has sprung up. When I was down that way last July there were a few bikes available for rent. Now there are maybe 200 or 300 available from a large number of vendors in the parking lot. At the viewing area, bikes were piled alongside the road, and locked in clumps.

I preferred to walk, seeing the towering column of smoke and steam getting gradually larger on the way out, and enjoying a star-studded night sky on my return.

For more information about Kilauea Volcano and it current eruption, go to hvo.wr.usgs.gov/activity/kilaueastatus.php.

The bench overlooking Honokane Nui Valley

At the end of the highway in North Kohala is the Pololū Valley overlook. This is where most people park their cars (if they can find a space), snap a photo or three, and then climb back in and attempt to turn around and head back.

Quite a few people head down the steep, third-of-a-mile trail to the valley and beach below. Some walk the half-mile-long beach. Very few continue up the trail on the other side. There are good reasons for this. The trail is somewhat hidden. If it’s been raining, it can be even muddier and more treacherous than the trail down to the valley. If conditions are right, it can be alive with bugs. But for those that do press on for another a mile or so, this is the spot they will reach.

Overlooking Honokane Nui Valley, this bench is the perfect spot to experience some welcome solitude. Chances are it will be unoccupied. Chances are no one else will even pass by. I like to sit on the bench (rickety though it is currently) and enjoy the ocean stretching away on one side and the tropical jungle climbing the side of the Kohala Mountains on the other.

For more information about the trail go to bigislandhikes.com/pololu-valley/.

Kilauea Volcano’s firehose of lava

I’ve posted before (here, here, here and here) about trips I’ve made to see the current lava flow from Kilauea Volcano’s Pu’u O’o vent. Lava first reached the coast on July 26, 2016 and has been pouring into the ocean ever since. However, on New Year’s Eve, much of the newly formed delta collapsed into the ocean taking with it a chunk of the older cliff. As a result, the lava tube carrying the active flow was suddenly left exposed and lava gushed out into the ocean as if from a firehose.

I was aware this was going on, but hadn’t really appreciated what it meant until this past Wednesday. Then, I read a report about the phenomenon, saw some photos, and realized this was something I had to see. Since the weather was favorable and it was early enough, I set out the same day.

After a three-hour drive and brisk hike I got to the viewing area, from the Kalapana side, around 5 p.m. These photos are from that trip. The top photo shows the firehose, lava gushing into the ocean in a constant, unwavering stream. When it hit the water, it generated a series of explosive reactions. The second photo shows the Lava Ocean tour boat nudging in toward the action as one of these explosions occurred. Below is a closer look at the stream with chunks of hot lava being hurled out into the water.

I stuck around until it got dark and then headed home – another hour-long hike and long drive – but it was so worth the effort. This was emphasized when, the next day, another cliff collapse caused the firehose to disappear from view. It might return, since the whole area is unstable, but it might also be gone for good.

I guess timing really is everything and I feel very fortunate that I was able to experience this phenomenon before it was gone.

For more information about Kilauea Volcano and it current eruption, go to hvo.wr.usgs.gov/activity/kilaueastatus.php.

Akaka Falls

Akaka Falls State Park is on the wet side of the island. There’s a short loop walk through the park that showcases the abundant vegetation and the falls themselves, which have a more than 400 feet drop.

Hawaiian Upland damselfly

The Hawaiian Upland damselfly (Megalagrion hawaiiense) is endemic to the state. Hawaiians called dragonflies pinao and damselflies pinao ‘ula. I’ve never been sure what the difference between the two is but I have learned that, among other things, damselflies tend to be smaller, have eyes on the side of the head that are clearly separate, and can fold their wings behind them.

This one was on the Kaumana Trail off Saddle Road (officially the Daniel K. Inouye Highway) at an elevation just over 5,000 feet.

Coastal manta ray

Not the greatest photo – swell had churned up the water – but I post it for two reasons.

One is, it’s the first manta ray I’ve seen outside of a tour where they set up lights and an unruly mob of people hung onto floats while the manta’s fed off plankton attracted by the lights. The manta’s were fabulous; the rest of the experience was weird, bordering on unpleasant. To top it off, I didn’t get any photos.

The second reason is how I came to spot this manta in the first place. A group of three women was swimming about 100 feet ahead of me. They had masks and snorkels but not fins. I happened to pop my head above water and heard a scream from one of the women, followed by a huge froth of whitewater in their vicinity. They’d obviously seen something dramatic and my first response was to find out what it was, never mind that a scream and churning water might be a strong indicator of a shark attack.

As I swam forward, this great creature came into view, angling across my path. At first it wasn’t clear what it was, but then the two distinctive cephalic flaps became clear. Manta’s use these to funnel water into their mouths when feeding. Manta’s are plankton feeders and harmless. Many rays have stingers in the tail area, but manta’s don’t. John Hoover says an 8 to 12 foot wingspan is most common for manta’s in these waters and this one certainly fell in that range.

With little effort, it glided past me toward deeper water. As it did so I saw a second manta join the first, then they disappeared into the murk.

A few minutes later I talked to one of the women who’d been in the group ahead. She said she’d screamed because she was startled by the sudden, unexpected appearance of this huge creature. I sympathized. I’ve had a similar response when unexpectedly meeting sharks and eagle rays at close quarters. But at the same time, such chance encounters are magical and memorable and I am grateful for them.

In my attempts to identify what I see in the water, I use John P. Hoover’s book The Ultimate Guide to Hawaiian Reef Fishes, Sea Turtles, Dolphins, Whales, and Seals. His website is hawaiisfishes.com.

Graham's Island

Life on the Big Island of Hawaii