All Hawaii is abuzz with "the Eddie" — an extreme surfing event that only takes place when ocean swells reach at least 20 feet during the annual one-month holding period.The Eddie had run seven times before today.This is the 25th anniversary of the surfing event but it has been five years since it was held.The waves dictate the competition.
Human organizers watch for favorable conditions and then issue invitations to a short list of big-wave surfers from around the world.They all gathered in Hawaii in the past couple of days, hoping.This morning, just around sunrise, the word went out — the Eddie would be held.News crews who weren’t already in place rushed to the North Shore.Spectators who had spent the night on the beach on the off chance that this would be the year were richly rewarded. Traffic on the single highway encircling the island crawled to a stop as everyone who could headed for Waimea Bay.Those of us who couldn’t ditch work watched live video streams on computers, cheering both the waves and their reckless riders.
The surfing contest alone is legendary.But it commemorates the life of Eddie Aikau, also the stuff of legends.Apart from the surf contest in his memory, bumper stickers and tee shirts all over the islands proclaim "Eddie Would Go".It doesn’t just mean that Eddie would go surfing, although he surely would.Eddie was the first lifeguard at Waimea Bay, carrying on an ancestral obligation to care for the bay and the valley that feeds it.His interest in Hawaii’s history and his personal connection with it placed Eddie aboard the historic voyage of the Hokule’a, an authentic replica of the double-hulled canoes that first brought Polynesians to the Hawaiian Islands.
The first Hokule’a voyage encountered difficulties in the Moloka’i Channel and it appeared that all aboard would be lost.In the version of the story I was told, Eddie asked permission of the captain to take his surfboard and attempt to reach the island of Lana’i for help.Whether he insisted or was finally granted permission, Eddie set out on the last rescue mission of his life.A late airline flight and a lucky flair allowed those aboard the sinking Hokule’a to be rescued while no sign was ever found of Eddie or his board.
Eddie’s dedication to Waimea Bay, the safety of those under his charge, and joy of riding the big ones are celebrated whenever "the Eddie" is run.Today, his spirit mixed with the adrenalin of the surfers, the enthusiasm of the crowds and the sea spray of the waves in his beloved bay.Eddie did go and it was epic.
(While I worked today, Rick was able to make it to the North Shore, bringing back photos and memories.)
When Aloha Bruce asked me to join a group of bloggers, journalists and tech gurus on a journey to O’ahu’s North Shore for tour of its famous shrimp trucks on a recent Friday, it was pointless to try to conceal my enthusiasm. I love being on the North Shore, I love shrimp, and I’ll jump at any chance to ride around in a limousine. I didn’t think it necessary to disclose to Aloha Bruce that I’ve suffered from a mild allergy to shrimp and all creatures shelled since my teens. That was simply an aside, an irrelevant caveat to an otherwise plum gig.
A light drizzle was falling as we left Foodland in Kalihi after a quick stop for provisions. Plenty of water and a six pack of Budweiser American Ale to wash down a glut of delectable arthropods were in order. There were concerned rumblings about a rain-soaked afternoon among my fellow travelers, but they were quelled quickly when a large bottle of Skyy vodka was produced (I don’t think it was touched all day, but something about it being along seemed to vanquish any doubts about the potential of the afternoon).
On the way out to the country, everyone in the limo was tweeting furiously, updating followers on the progress of our unlikely assembly of shrimp-hungry correspondents. Everyone but me, that is. I realized quickly how useful social media are, and how addictive. Bruce began shaking and babbling incoherently when he realized that his “twitter phone” was in a bag in the trunk. I am way behind the times.
The tasting began in Haleiwa, at Macky’s Shrimp truck, the first you’ll encounter upon entering Haleiwa town. Macky, whom none of us had ever met, greeted us as we lumbered out of the limo, beaming under a woven safari hat. “Hello! Welcome to Macky’s!” he sung in a thick Taiwanese accent. “You come for some shrimp?”
Cameras were flashing and rolling as we approached the window. I ordered, predictably, the butter garlic shrimp. It was properly butterflied, as opposed to simply cleaned, which made room for a lot of flavor to soak into the flesh of the shrimp, and into mine. Messy is a foregone conclusion when discussing the experience of dining at a shrimp truck. The garlic shrimp was delicious, the spicy shrimp was appropriately incendiary and flavorful. But my favorite, not just at Macky’s, but at the end of the day, was the lemon pepper shrimp. The meat was yellowed with lemon essence and speckled with colorful pepper flakes. Our driver, Johnny, a chatty fellow behind Ray Ban sunglasses, was rendered mute by mouthfuls of caringly prepared sea goodness.
Our next stop was a sort of warren of lunch wagons settled into a grotto abutting the sugarcane field just beyond the tree line. Of four wagons, two were shrimp trucks. Giovanni’s is an icon among roadside feeding posts, and beside it sits Hono’s, staffed by two smiling ladies that are evidently shy about being photographed. The wait at Giovanni’s was longer than expected, but the shrimp offered was duly scrumptious. Someone ordered a pineapple preparation, and it was met with oohs and ahhs by those who sampled it. I tried Hon’s interpretation of “garlic and butter” and was enrapt by the savory goodness of the pile of minced garlic and pepper that topped the steaming mound of shrimp.
It was at this point in our Shrimp Truck Trek (say that three times fast) that the question of peeling facility came about. If the work involved in getting at what you’re eating exceeds the reward of eating it, it’s a problem. It didn’t happen, as all of the trucks we visited had their merits, but when you have a group of analytical minds assembled for the task of assessing something, not all of the input will be positive.
By the time we reached Aloha Chef on the outskirts of Kahuku it had become clear that each truck offers more or less the same fare. Aloha Chef offered a Salt and Pepper Shrimp that appealed to me in particular after so many flavor infused dishes (or paper plates, really). Aloha Chef keeps the heads on the shrimp, much to the delight of the kids covered in butter, garlic and whatever who were assembled at one of the picnic tables in front of the truck. I was amazed that the operation was operated by only one man, but not surprised that there was a bit of a wait. And the tables were wet with rain.
Fumi’s is only a stone’s throw down Kamehameha Highway towards Kahuku. Their setup is more accommodating, a place to hunker down over a plate of steaming crustaceans even during a downpour. Some of the more erudite foodies among us had salient comments about the preparation of the featured fare, but I was happy to have a clean sink for washing up.
We barked at our driver Johnny to stop at Famous Kahuku Shrimp, although none of us would have objected to pulling the plug and heading for Honolulu. It was a serious, published foodie who made it clear that this was a mission, and that tasting the flavors of the humble, roadside lunch wagon operations was the point. At that point, we were all doing our best to elucidate the relative merits of such establishments, but a gut-full of shrimp will quickly render even the most ardent food fanatic unable.
Our final stop was at the Shrimp Shack, a roadside attraction in Punalu’u somewhere between the Polynesian Cultural Center and Kahana Bay, that has garnered accolades from travel websites publications and television channels. I’ll say only that my contingent of gifted palates found the fare not only unremarkable, but disappointing. There’s no accounting for taste.
The most striking of our Shrimp Truck Trek, for me, was the fact that most of those trucks parked along the roadside in rural O’ahu are remarkably similar. All are covered with graffiti, all offer the same interpretations of the same dishes, and all are operated by people with accents not common to residents of the North Shore.
The point is that any stop at a shrimp truck on O’ahu’s North Shore is an endeavor worthy of photos, of blogging and of posterity. As a final bit of advice, I’ll suggest bringing your own roll of paper towels and some breath freshener.
This is the time of year surfers and surfing followers wait for. The Vans TripleCrown of Surfing Series is under way, beginning on Oahu’s north shore.
The Billabong Pro Maui women’s surfing competition — the third and final event of the women’s crown — is the only outer-island event of the world-championship Series. It’s held at Honolua Bay on Maui’s rugged north shore and will crown the women’s world champion. Competition will be held on the two biggest and best days of surf within the designated holding period: December seventh through twentieth.
Honolua Bay Beach is a seldom-visited area of Maui, but it’s worth the trip if you enjoy snorkeling, scuba diving or surfing. The beach is located in a marine life preserve, so the fish are plentiful and the coral formations are spectacular. The right side of the bay has the best snorkeling and diving scenery. Remember that you can’t fish or spear fish here because of its protected designation. Water conditions can vary dramatically in this area depending on ocean currents and rainfall. If you’d like to watch the competition and you are not a local, find a hotel or condo in Maui near the event.
Narrowing down your Hawaii vacation destination is even more difficult than it may seem to be at first. Most people try to decide which island – or islands – they think would appeal to them most.
The problem is that, except for little Molokai and Lanai, each of the islands actually has three or more distinctly different areas within their beaches.
On Oahu, Waikiki – on the south shore – is where the action is, and it’s close to most of the island’s other attractions. On the north shore, Turtle Bay is a full-blown resort near “Old Hawaii,” those humongous winter waves and the quaint little town of Haleiwa. Ko Olina is a newer, sprawling, self-contained resort area well west of Honolulu in leeward Oahu.
On the north shore of Kauai, the beautiful Hanalei and Princeville area is quiet and scenic with nice resorts. The south shore has Poipu and a whole bunch of ritzy resorts with all kinds of things to do. On the east shore, the town of Lihue is the island’s business and population center, with good accommodations that are convenient to most of Kauai’s spectacular attractions.
Maui is said to be two islands. West Maui has Lahaina, Kaanapali, Kapalua and those spectacular resorts. The island’s larger portion contains the rustic Upcountry, the mammoth Haleakala crater and the Waimea resort area. Way to the east, the fantastic Hana area is an isolated destination unto itself.
The Big Island is generally divided into the Hilo side – the east – and the Kona side – the west. But it’s far more than that. On the Kona side, the coast is lined with one spectacular resort after another, and farther inland is ranch country in the rural areas of Waimea and Kamuela, the majestic Mauna Kea and the world’s most powerful telescopes. The Hilo side is far less touristy, but that’s where you’ll find Volcanoes National Park and the amazing lava flows.
As you can see, there’s a lot to consider beyond a choice of islands. The best thing to do is pick an agent from our website and begin a relationship (No obligation, of course). Our agents all are experts in Hawaii – have lived here and can guide you with passion and professionalism. Or, if you prefer, call 1-800-843-8771.
The tasting began in Haleiwa, at Macky’s Shrimp truck, the first you’ll encounter upon entering Haleiwa town. Macky, whom none of us had ever met, greeted us as we lumbered out of the limo, beaming under a woven safari hat. “Hello! Welcome to Macky’s!” he sung in a thick Taiwanese accent. “You come for some shrimp?”
Our next stop was a sort of warren of lunch wagons settled into a grotto abutting the sugarcane field just beyond the tree line. Of four wagons, two were shrimp trucks. Giovanni’s is an icon among roadside feeding posts, and beside it sits Hono’s, staffed by two smiling ladies that are evidently shy about being photographed. The wait at Giovanni’s was longer than expected, but the shrimp offered was duly scrumptious. Someone ordered a pineapple preparation, and it was met with oohs and ahhs by those who sampled it. I tried Hon’s interpretation of “garlic and butter” and was enrapt by the savory goodness of the pile of minced garlic and pepper that topped the steaming mound of shrimp.
By the time we reached Aloha Chef on the outskirts of Kahuku it had become clear that each truck offers more or less the same fare. Aloha Chef offered a Salt and Pepper Shrimp that appealed to me in particular after so many flavor infused dishes (or paper plates, really). Aloha Chef keeps the heads on the shrimp, much to the delight of the kids covered in butter, garlic and whatever who were assembled at one of the picnic tables in front of the truck. I was amazed that the operation was operated by only one man, but not surprised that there was a bit of a wait. And the tables were wet with rain.
We barked at our driver Johnny to stop at Famous Kahuku Shrimp, although none of us would have objected to pulling the plug and heading for Honolulu. It was a serious, published foodie who made it clear that this was a mission, and that tasting the flavors of the humble, roadside lunch wagon operations was the point. At that point, we were all doing our best to elucidate the relative merits of such establishments, but a gut-full of shrimp will quickly render even the most ardent food fanatic unable.
