A Love Letter to Kapoho
- Brooke
- May 25, 2016
- 6 min read
I'm standing on the edge of the world.
Well, not exactly. I am, however, standing on the shores of the easternmost part of my island - Kapoho on Hawaii's Big Island. It is here that the Hawaiian islands end and the next closest landmark you'd hit if you drew a line across the vast Pacific Ocean would get you pretty close to Mexico's Puerto Vallerta. Yet, this is also where the islands begin, as Kilauea and her numerous hot spots constantly redraw the map, adding shoreline to once existing coasts, building new real estate on an island that's already got more than all the other Hawaiian islands combined.
It is here that I breathe in the air, inhaling some of the world's freshest breezes, as they blow thousands of miles across the sea. The air is so much different than my home in Kailua-Kona, where a blanket of vog, or a blend of sulfur dioxide and other gasses emitted from Kilauea, combine into a hazy veil that sits over my home on an almost daily basis. Whereas at home, I am amazed when we have a clear, vog-free day, it is here in Kapoho that I can breathe easy, enjoying the clear horizons, the fresh, rain scented air that only this area of the island can provide.
I could live here, I begin to think.
Deep down, I know that is my heart talking. My heart loves this quiet corner of the Big Island, with its abundance of greenery everywhere, with trees assisting vines in their efforts to reach the highest heights, to catch the same breezes I'm currently inhaling. All day, the sun will play peek-a-boo with me, with bright, sunny blue skies darkened by the occasional downpour, only to be followed by the same bright, sunny blue skies. It is as if Kapoho wants to apologize for the interruption of rain by showing off with this brilliant weather.
And yet, the rain doesn't bother me - without it, how else could this place be so green and smell so alive?
Without the rain, how could I be one minute sunning myself in a tide pool, and the next having the skies open up and dump water above my head? My heart dreams of living in a house with one of these tide pools for a backyard, where I can take a dip in its magma heated water whenever I please. After struggling with managing a traditional pool for a few months, I am attracted to the idea of letting Mother Nature manage this on her own. I admire the houses here with their bright red bridges crossing over these little natural pools, or the artificial lazy rivers carved into people's front yards. I dream of what it would be like to live in the house that is essentially an island, with its front sidewalk dipping right into a pond, its backyard already completely submerged by the high tide.
This is a special place, my heart whispers. You should live here.
Yet, my brain knows better. It doesn't take much for my head to interrupt my heart, especially as I look around. Over there, just beyond my perch on the corner of Champagne Pond, a gloriously peaceful heated tide pool on the edge of the world, is the evidence of a recent lava flow. My head reminds me of the 1960 eruption that wiped most of the town of Kapoho off the map. This little corner, these special tide pools, were nearly wiped off as well, until Madame Pele, sensing just how special this place was, decided she had done enough work for the time being.
But for how long, my brain asks? Yes, it's been nearly 60 years since she last visited this place, but she could, theoretically, come back to pay a visit any day. Just ask those who live in Kapalana, where Madame Pele visited in 1990-1991 and destroyed the beautiful black sand beach of Kaimu, along with countless homes and cherished memories - buried forever under tons of hardened lava. Or those in Pahoa, the main town in this remote district, where Madame Pele visited a transfer station before stalling again, but not after threatening to close off the district's main lifeline - Highway 130.
And, my brain says, what about the hurricanes that are likely to strike this area? Don't you remember Hurricane Iselle that hit this area of the Big Island in the summer of 2014 - the one your flight home from the mainland nearly cancelled and where you had to camp out at Ben's hotel for the evening, preparing for the worst? Lucky for those of us in Kailua-Kona, not much happened, but those over here in Puna felt the brunt of the storm, with severe power outages, downed trees, and other damage.
Or what about earthquakes, my brain wonders? With such proximity to the world's most active volcano, it's not improbable that a large earthquake or landslide could take place. Could this shelf one day fall into the ocean? How prepared are you to be cut off from civilization, my head challenges? Not very - I know. I know.
But my heart continues to whisper, you should live here. Despite the risks, or even because of them, this place remains special. Each day you are forced to appreciate what you have as you cannot be sure that next year, next week, or even tomorrow this place will remain. You are challenged to wake up each day and greet its uniqueness, to be thankful that this place exists, and that you are able to see it with your own eyes, to feel the weight of this place on your soul.
You should live here, my heart tells me.
And maybe, if I'm really lucky, someday I will.
Kapoho Details
Our house: I had planned on providing the information about the house we rented via VRBO, but after an email exchange with the owner left me with a bad taste in my mouth, I am simply leaving that information out. It is possible you may be able to tell which house we stayed in by looking at the pictures, but upon reflection, though the house was beautiful and extremely convenient, I feel that this owner has little understanding of the term "hospitality."
The exchange happened due to us leaving a small electronic device behind, and after emailing her saying we were wondering if they could check on its location in the house, we would happily pay her to mail it back to us. Her rely was a long rant about the inconvenience of having to schlep alllllll the way to Pahoa town (8 miles away) and then wait in line at the Post Office (though she could surely pick the time and day when she suspected the lines would be shortest, but I digress). Either we are the first people to EVER leave something at this lady's house, or the simple task of driving to the MAIN TOWN of the area at a day of her choosing is going ABOVE AND BEYOND for her guests. Yes, it was our fault that we left the device behind, but she would not be out any money for this action, and we did not specify that we needed it in a timely manner. This transaction, coupled with the copious passive aggressive notes sprinkled throughout the house blaming you for actions of past guests, I feel I might be doing others a disservice if I recommended this house.
In related news, we stayed at this house back in October 2015, and had a wonderful time. The owner/caretaker seemed to truly care about their guests' stay - the little note left on the kitchen counter welcoming you upon arrival had a totally different feel than the laminated passive aggressive notes at the house mentioned above. We feel certain that had we left something behind, they would have helped us. If you are a couple looking for a quiet retreat, you can't beat Hula Cove.
And, with a view like this from your lanai, you really won't be disappointed.
Remember to follow me on Instagram and Snapchat: @brookehawaii
Have you visited Kapoho or the Puna District? Dream of living in the danger zone? Tell me about it in the comments!
Until next time - a hui hou.
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