Molokai: Boil Before Drinking

Annie (my fellow Marine Corps Hawaii spouse girlfriend) & I flew to our next door neighbor Hawaiian island, Molokai. Let me take you along our noteworthy mini expedition.

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We flew (front row seat) in a Cessna grand caravan, with 8 total passengers, where we watched our pilot clear the runway, flick through those various switches, & ascend us up into the morning sunrise. See you later tonight, HNL (Honolulu International Airport).

Twenty minutes later, we hopped off the plane at MKK, with our dreams & tank tops. The entire island of Molokai has a people population of 7,400. Little old town of Montoursville, PA alone (my home town) has a people population of 4,450. We knew we were headed for the noiseless / city-less land, but did not foresee an actual (almost) deserted island, where only one gas station resided. To give you a better idea, this (pictured below) was one of their designated highways, where warning signs every quarter mile read: Falling Rocks. There are not mountains made of (falling) rocks at this below pictured location, but believe me when I say Annie & I drove as if we were stationed in Japan (left side drivers) when we couldn't dodge the basketball sized debris on our side, not that there was a left or right side, because the "highway" was a kid-you-not, one-lane. We had to hold our breath a handful of times while deciding if the oncoming cars were going to ride into the off-road plant life, or if it would be us. It was us.

Molokai has a leeward (dry) & windward (wet) side, just as O'ahu does (Annie & I live on the windward side of Oahu). Let's start with the Leeward side (pictured below).

As we approached this trail, I had a flashback to Montoursville's neck of the woods. Annie's hometown is in Henderson, NC, so her expression was identical. We didn't even have to close our eyes & imagine that we weren't in the middle of the Hawaiian ocean anymore, because here we stood, seeming thousands of miles away from our brink-of-a-heat-stroke tropical Kailua norm, & both arm-hair-raised & shivering from the "chill" of the woodsy air. I put that word in quotations because 98% of readers would choke on their own spit at the actual mild temperature.

Kumu Farm (pictured below): where papaya trees grew by the dozens, kale by the bunches, & coffee by the beans.

My interpretation of a "farm" (again, good ol' former central PA livin') is contrasting to Kumu's. Theirs, to me, would be a nursery, but who am I to judge.

Up next is Purdy's Macadamia Nut Farm (pictured below), where we learned the history of the macadamia tree (that produces its "crop" 365 days of the year), how to crack the shell, & test tasted the nut in its raw, untouched form.

OK, this handy dandy little cracking station had us feeling more farm-like vibes.

The inside of a picturesque macadamia nut - look at that artistic interior design. God, yet again, how innovative you are. Mom, if you are reading this, I thought of you when I opened one for the first time, knowing you would gasp & say the same about God's creative inclinations.

Mac nut trees also produce the tastiest flavor of honey. Pictured below, we scooped up the raw honey from the hollowed out half coconut shell of "bowl" #1, with the coconut chips (as a spoon) from "bowl" #2, & drizzled that liquid sugar onto our fresh cracked mac nuts from "bowl" #3.

Pictured below is Kapuaiwa Coconut Grove, where "no trespassing without a permit" signs were posted, followed by warnings of "falling coconuts." So we didn't explore any farther, & decided to let the paid permitters risk (let's be honest, probably extremely rare) coconut concussions.

Let's drive to the windward side, where it feels less uninhabited, all the while gas is $5.17 per gallon. I guess one can do that when you are the only source of fuel for all 7,400 individuals. While driving the coast, Annie saw a cluster of ropes we had to stop at because, I mean we (ok mainly I) get told (and very frequently) we look 15-16 years of age, so minds well play like it too, yeah?

{Pictured above is Annie}

The mountains (pictured below) of each Hawaiian island have their own distinctive terrain. I describe Molokai's as rolling hills, while ours of O'ahu are jagged highland towers. The beach life in Molokai is seemingly nonexistent; the brown sand tones & dry shoreline felt quite eerie.

Turn your head directly to the right though, & you'll see this. Rocks galore, no clouds. I was not the slightest stunned by the bipolar skies, because that's just Hawaii in general. To give a frequent realistic example, I am writing this on my hammock where my legs are currently getting a sprinkle shower, while my hair is taking a sunbath.

We haven't seen a bathroom anywhere since arriving on island, but I thought I remembered seeing what looked like one on the way in through the mountains, so we sped back along in hopes there was at least toilet paper, too. It's OK though, because if not, I packed paper towels. If any sign or symbol could perfectly sum up the vibe & culture Molokai offers to the world, this below picture would win first prize at the Kumu Farm fair, if they ever had one.

In case you cannot read the sign, it says to boil Molokai's water before drinking, folks.

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What an experience! We learned how Hawaii lives, without security or any ID check at their one outdoor sized room airport, without tourism, without Hilton hotels, without choice of grocery stores or gas stations, without shopping centers of any kind, without two/three/four lane highways, without Toyota Tacoma's, without clean water. We flew off the island looking at each other in all-embracing awe, saying, "wow, just wow. What a life that would be to live; What a culture shock within our own island hopping vicinity; Oh how much we love our O'ahu." How remarkable it truly felt to have the privilege to fly away, looking back through the airplane window knowing I only went there for a one day expansion of cultural viewpoints. Luke 12:23 says that life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Molokai put that verse into perspective & practice for me, again, as the last physical time I had that opportunity was in 2013 while in Guatemala. Just as God created the heavens, he created minute, remote Molokai.

When ya'll think of Hawaii now, maybe you'll think of Molokai, too.