'Ahihi Kina'u

The journey was excruciatingly long, approximately a forty-five minute drive. I had never been to this locale before, so I was expecting a longer, more hesitant trip. Luckily, I was fairly familiar with the surroundings before the entrance of this small park. It was the never-ending search for parking that took a little longer than expected. 'Ahihi Bay majestically sprawled out before us as my tourist car rounded the narrow strip of dirt road and we found ourselves face to face with black lava rocks and gently splashing crystal blue water. Tall stone walls encased the east and west entrances of the bay, sheltering million dollar homes on private property with gorgeous beachfront views. One wall in particular, a ten foot tall edifice covered with tangled green and purplish vines, was the background of my parking spot. My car pulled to a smooth stop. Gerred and I disembarked from the inside, pulling the snorkeling fins and masks from the trunk. I have had one snorkeling experience in my entire life of living in Hawaii and it was not a pleasant event, so I was quite tentative to step out into the water here. I needed enormous amounts of coercion to get me back in the open water.

Gerred and I dragged the small bag of equipment to the shore and stopped to admire the beautiful scenery. The water stretched on for as far as the eye could see, to the milky white horizon and beyond. The clouds were gradually rolling in off the ocean, so the sea became a little darker, a little murkier, giving the underwater surroundings a downcast feel. This was 'Ahihi-Kina'u Natural Reserve, one of the best snorkeling spots found on the island of Maui. The bay is relatively shallow, less than ten feet closer to the shore and about one hundred feet deep further out in the distance. Off to the left of the bay stand magnificent coral reef structures that housed several varieties of fishes, including yellow tangs, Moorish idols, and Hawaii's state fish, the Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, better known as the clown trigger fish. Off to the right is a more shallow snorkeling area with giant Ulua, traveling in schools of fish reaching sizes of near two feet long.

We found a small rocky spot under a leafless tree mangled by the sea winds and began preparing for the water entrance. Rather, my friend pulled on his flippers while I pulled on my mask of fear. Gerred enjoyed the underwater sea life. The entire three weeks he and his cousin stayed with me at my house there on Maui, all he talked about was snorkeling and how I needed to find some good spots before he left. So there we were, the day before he was to return to the mainland and we were sitting on the lava rocks, strapping on our brightly colored fins and matching snorkels. Gerred jumped in first, dipping his head underwater and snapping a quick picture of the giant yellow tang that was scavenging near my rested feet. I was still uncertain, sticking to my smooth seat of coral and lava rock, waiting for an ounce of courage to dive head first. I decided I wanted to stay close to the shore and not explore beyond the massive coral mounds. I did not care what I missed further out, all I cared about was staying safe. The only reason I had joined Gerred at this snorkeling spot was so he was not out in a foreign place by himself, up against the odds of the strong currents and unpredictable weather. Gerred stuck to my side, telling me to get in the water with him, urging me to waddle out onto the closest rock and take that first jump.

I cautiously stepped onto a rock a step below me and plunged forward, slipping on the algae covered perch, getting a quick glance at the fish speeding past me as I created a small shock wave from hitting the surface. The view was outstanding. There were fish galore just swimming around and even approaching the two of us to investigate what these new strange creatures being introduced into their environment were. Gerred grasped my hand and pulled me out past some of the coral cliffs and that is where I saw them: a giant school of Ulua swimming in an orderly fashion, almost calming my fear of these oversize creatures attacking. All of the silver and gray-streaked bodies had to be at least two feet long and almost frightening to be near. But they were harmless and really wanted to swim with us. We spent the next hour taking pictures of all the various species out in the water.

Suddenly, I had lost sight of Gerred and felt an unnerving tugging at my arm. I egg-beated my way around in a circle with my arms and legs and found Gerred pointing to a large black fish with fins that were almost skirt-like. I watched as it slowly floated on its side toward the surface and thrashed in the water wildly. This was a black trigger and it was becoming aggressive because we were in its territory. Gerred pulled me away quickly. I watched the fish shrink in size as we swam further away from its belligerent behavior . Triggers are carnivorous fish and can take chunks of skin off in one bite. Had Gerred not been there, I probably would have been fish bait.

After this close call, I pulled myself out of the water and removed the fins, wanting to take a little breathing break. Gerred double-checked to make sure I was all right and departed for the deeper portions of the water. He was gone for about a half an hour and I sat and dried in the little sunshine that existed behind the clouds. I retrieved my towel from under the tree and wrapped my upper body in the cheap Wal-Mart cloth. I kept my toes dipped in the water, soothing my aching fear, letting the fish around me "sniff" at my feet. Within a few minutes of my subsiding terror of the open water, I saw the familiar yellow snorkel bobbing back toward me. As Gerred quickly pulled himself from the water, I saw a look of distraught spread across his face. I asked him what was wrong and he began to describe the many things he explored out in the deep. One of these items was a cavernous area that was pitch dark inside, and fearing a shark might be lurking within, he high-tailed it out of there, only to run into a school of giant trigger fish. He said there was a cloud of smoky water surrounding them, looking as if they had just finished feeding moments before. I was glad I did not make my way out there with him, but was happy he got to see these things before he had to journey back home.

From 'Ahihi Kina'u, I decided to show Gerred the astounding tide pools near the Maui Prince Hotel Beach Resort. Since he was a big ocean fanatic, I figured he would be one of the few people to actually appreciate the small things Maui had to offer. The ride was very short, about ten minutes, and as we climbed from the car once more to adventure further beyond the hotels golf course, we grabbed a few rolls of film in case we spotted something truly interesting. The parking lot led to a small beach whose view was much like every other beach on the island. The sand was warm and beige and the water was a deep shade of blue. Older couples were snorkeling here and Gerred mentioned something about taking out the equipment to try our picture taking skills once more. I told him if we found the tide pools and there was nothing of interest, we could snorkel a little longer.

There stood a tall cliff to our left and beyond it was the hotel golf course and a bright orange mesh fence kept us from taking the short route to the small fish habitat. I noticed some steady rocks in the distance and from there, we were set on climbing to the top and making our way around the fence onto the elongated peninsula. As we reached the top of the mound, Gerred stopped in his tracks, pointed, then gasped. "Oh my God, we found it!" I had no clue what he was referring to, considering the tide pools were nowhere to be seen.

"What? What do you see?" I asked, but Gerred was too far off in the distance by this time to hear my question, let alone answer it. I squinted against the afternoon sunshine to see what he had spotted. And there they were: two beautiful green sea turtles, floating together, side by side near some stranded lava rocks. Gerred had positioned himself on top of the rocks and motioned for me to join him. I climbed cautiously toward the scene and was surprised by the insurmountable beauty these two creatures posed as they just majestically floated in the deep blue water. Occasionally, the larger turtle of the two would swim lower than the surface and perform a headstand as the current pushed one way and it pushed in the other direction. The smaller turtle decided it wanted nothing to do with us humans, so it swam off toward the large coral reef in the background.

The bigger turtle stayed near us, peeking up over the water and gasping for air. As it scavenged for food at the base of our seat, its hind legs and tail flopped in the open air and we both reached forward and caressed the bumpy skin. I marveled at the occasion. Never in my life had I experienced something as incredible as this. The only time I was ever face to face with the native green sea turtles was at the Maui Ocean Center aquarium that I visited quite often. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to touch those turtles, for they tend to bite, and when they bite, they take off fingers. But this was different. It was captivating. There was no less danger in what we were doing, but it was the best feeling in the world to just watch this beautiful beast glance at us once in awhile and stay near us, never leaving our side. We knew it was time to go, with the sun setting and warming our faces and the turtle seemingly saying its goodbyes with a flick of its stubby green tail. It disappeared beneath the surface for good and we found ourselves scaling the rock piles in the light of dusk.