Over time the wind, waves, and rain have sculpted the Na Pali coastline to create isolated beaches, hanging valleys and numerous sea caves. We maneuver into one of the sea caves, timing our approach with the surging seas to avoid colliding with one another or the rocky walls. The experience is no mere water park ride. Instead, its rather like being a toy boat in a washing machine: rising, falling and slopping back and forth with each twist of water.
Escaping the sea cave, we pass through a spectacular waterfall and notice its source a hundred feet up an impressive vertical cliff. The tallest on the coast is about 900 feet and ridges that lead to these cliffs can rise over 4,000 feet The impression from offshore is of a long line of giant, green-cloaked sentinels standing watch over this ancient area. It brings to mind what early natives might have thought as they navigated similar craft along the same shores.
The views are so spectacular and the sunlight dancing on the waves so hypnotic that it’s hard to settle into a productive paddling rhythm. Wave motion poses a challenge too, and some of our teammates succumb to seasickness despite preemptive doses of Dramamine or Bonine. The nausea and physical challenges of paddling take such a toll on one couple that our guides change boats to help them out. That puts Doug and me together, novices turned self-sufficient kayakers in the space of a few hours.
As Doug and I settle into a new rhythm and I become acquainted with the pedal-operated rudder, we notice the appearance of slick grey fins just ahead. Soon we’re in the midst of dashing dolphins, separated only by inches of plastic and a few fathoms of water. The magical encounter lasts just a few minutes, but the thrill lingers as we paddle on.
Soon however, the earlier giddiness of anticipated adventure has given way to a resigned routine aimed at conserving energy. It’s been five or six hours of hard slogging and we’re told our first stop is still a couple of hours away. Melissa updates our pick-up crew using her VHF radio. Meanwhile, my previously carefree image of skimming along the Hawaiian coast has been replaced with visions of Ben-Hur rowing aboard a slave ship.
