The Napali Coast Trail
Sunday, September 07, 2003
The Napali Coast Journal michaelmalloy,lcsw
I am on my second day of jet lag after a five-hour differential. If what the experts say is true, I won’t be in my real mind until Wednesday night. So considering that reality, these thoughts are not coming from my usually well-defended mind.
Last Tuesday and Wednesday night were spent in the Hanakoa Valley of the Napali Coast on Kauai, Hawaii. The Hanakoa Valley is in the middle of the northern shore of Kauai---reachable only by sea or the Kalalau Trail that traverses 11 miles of the Napali Coast line---leaving yet several miles without any trail.
Hanakoa in Hawaiian is hana meaning either work or bay, and koa referring to either the koa tree or to warriors; translated meaning either “bay of the koa tree” or “bay of warriors”. After being there for a couple of nights, I would also consider “work of warriors” as a translation after seeing what those who lived there years ago were up against in daily living.
Napali Coast Trail Kauai
In an 1835 census there were 50 Hawaiians living in Hanakoa where there was abundant water from two streams. The Hawaiians had ample fruit---guava were everywhere, limes, mangos---and much more. They farmed taro from which they made poi, a staple in their diet. Most of us who have attended a luau have had the opportunity to taste poi---more as a sauce not to be eaten alone, at least according to my palette. They also brought in coffee as a crop and now coffee “trees” with long shiny leaves surround you as you hike and camp. Hanakoa is a hanging valley---one that does not drop down to the sea with a beach. Instead, it meets the sea at a cliff that drops off a couple of hundred feet where natives would toss their crop of coffee beans down to boats below to be transported to a mill. (Way more trusting than I would be..the ocean is really deep at the cliff).
Kayakers 300 feet below the trail
Time at Hanakoa allows one the think about questions such as how much have we “improved” our lives from those days 170 years ago. I am not complaining about the many conveniences I enjoy but I am reflecting about the simplicity and beauty of what I saw and experienced. The Napali Coast has been ranked by some as one of the 10 most spectacular spots for hiking on the globe (one of the reasons when I first saw it I decided I wanted to go). The “napali” or cliffs rise 4000 feet above the pacific blue ocean as you weave in and out and up and down through one valley to another. The trail is almost never level and although there are spots on the first two miles that seem like a boulevard compared to the most often less than foot wide path from Hanakāpī ’ai Beach to Hanakoa, it is not a trail you do much day-dreaming on. It requires attention to your footing.
The previous week Jeannie and I had taken the catamaran, Lucky Lady, around to the Napali coast. We were able to see sections of the trail from the boat particularly one section that traversed the barren slope of the Manono Ridge. From the sea, it looked treacherous as hikers inched along the narrow path on the cliff a couple of hundred feet above the ocean at times meeting another hiker going the opposite direction having to hug each other as they passed. That brought on some real anxiety for me---particularly when I knew it would not only be me, but me with a 40-45 pound pack on my back. But as I worked with my fears I wondered about the lives of those earlier Hawaiians. They dealt with fear too many times centered on the natural elements of land and weather. They interpreted disasters as angry gods (i.e. Joe and the Volcano, the Tom Hanks movie I am sure was so well researched). When disaster came or to prevent future ones, as a part of their religious beliefs, a sacrifice was required to appease an angry god. Often the sacrifice was a princess or similar---not one of the benefits of being royalty in those days. But their practices did make me realize that here on the other side of the globe on a remote pacific island were a people that instinctively believed a sacrifice was required. How different is that from our own Judeo/Christian beliefs of the Old Testament? I was struck with how similar we are as peoples in dealing with our fears and anxieties. Some peoples read the stars---like the shepherds of old supposedly did---stars that were in massive numbers in the Hanakoa valley. Others attributed deity status to much of what was unexplainable such as earth, wind and fire. On a remote volcanic island, Pele, the goddess of fire, was at the top of the god chain. When you lived on an island that was periodically burping up lava, it was an easy jump to think about someone being angry.
As I sang “God of wonders beyond our galaxy” this morning I thought of the God of wonders beyond my little borders---as I said, well defended psychologically from anything foreign that threatens my way of life. It is so good to get out of where we always are, physically and in our heads. To have to boil every drop of water you use for three days, to eat either what you carry on your back (all of those dried meals tasted like Teriyaki Chicken even thought they had other enticing names) or eat the fruit of the land and to sleep with the wild goats and chickens (what is it about all the wild chickens in Kauai?)—all of which transport me a long ways from where I typically live. Yes, I and my hiking buddies all fantasized of a cold, iced Dr. Pepper or such as we battled the heat exhaustion---another aspect I had not experienced before having never hiked in the tropics. The discomfort I experienced I did not attribute to the devil as they have been historically by some. Yet I would say that never being without has the tendency to make me begin to think in pretty self sufficient terms. But for most of us, all it takes is a 9/11, cancer, a pandemic or other personal “volcano” to move us back to God center. Although we often initially go looking for someone to sacrifice---or blame for our calamity, we can recall that God knows all about sacrifices. I came home grateful for yet another lesson in living.
To live more simply and at peace with my world as the Hawaiians I met these last two weeks and as I suspect, the Hawaiians of old. To relish the sacrifice of God even a bit more so that I had when I left, and to realize that my fears and anxieties are not always enemies. Scripture says that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. I know that this fear translates better as “awe” rather than terror before Him where our angst can ultimately take us.
Even Solomon, the purveyor of wisdom in the Bible, was taken off track later in life by the wealth that God had allowed him. I returned with a better understanding that there is no nirvana we reach as Christians. No place assured to be THE place in the shadow of His wing. This is a journey for sure. One that I have confidence that as long as it continues here on this earth, He will continually offer me experiences to ‘see’ Him more clearly. Sometimes, often times, those experiences are laced with fear. But our fears are covered, they too are taken under wing. Maybe God offers us these experiences for an eternity, who of us knows? But if that is the case, this thing called eternity will not be about sitting around with a flute or harp. It will continue to be on the contrary, a continuance of the great adventure, a fullness of Being to a greater and greater degree.
What a hike! Here are a few of photos….
Original Sept 7, 2003
Edit 3/2021