Vacation Tsunami

Before we left on this vacation, I was kidded for having a mental plan of what to do in case of an earthquake or a volcano eruption on the two Hawiian islands we planned on visiting.  Always the 'safety officer' of the family, but never a boy scout, we are safely perched about 1200 ft. above sea level in a Safeway parking lot, awaiting the tsunami that supposed to hit here in about 4 hours.

I had a diet coke about 8 p.m. and found myself wide awake, working on the computer, when the local broadcast broke into Olympic coverage to announce the 8.8 earthquake in Chile and the subsequent tsunami watch that Hawaii was under.  That watch turned to a warning by 1:30 a.m.  I packed up and went to sleep from 2-4 a.m.  Kathy and I left our sea level hotel by 4:15 a.m.

Everyone's been orderly and polite, as we have about 3.5 hours until the tsunami is to hit South Point.  (See previous blog about South Point.)  Since we're slightly north and west of that point, in Kaulea-Kona, we might see it arrive about 10-15 minutes later.  Last time I heard, a 12 foot wave or higher might pound the coast for 6 hours.

We're supposed to fly out tomorrow, back to Honolulu and then onto Maui, for Kathy's ER meeting.  In the meantime, we're meeting other visitors and snow birds that have evacuated the low-lying bay.  We found an outlet on the outside of the building and one gentleman is setting up a phone charging station with his power strip.  Coffee and donuts are wafting in the air and other computer users are setting up a cue.  It's time to cede my outlet and wireless connection that Safeway's provided.  More later.

Two Worlds Within 25 Miles

On the Big Island of Hawaii, there is a huge variety of biodiversity.  Volcanoes National Park, with the active Kilouea Crater sits 20 miles from Hilo, where 100 inches of rain falls each year.  I now find myself on the drier side, Kailua-Kona, where desert ferrets, wild goats and donkeys live amongst the brittle, dark, lava, and magnificent beaches dot the western coastline.

Yesterday I found myself at the most southern point in the United States.  South Point.  I know it's a tricky name but remember this little factoid if you're ever on Jeopardy!  South Point reminded me of Torres del Paine National Park in southern Chile.  The wind at South Point was probably at least 30 mph and the tiny banyan trees are permanently stooped over from the wind, like the elderly misshapen by osteoporosis.  In Chile, the wind whipped soup out of our bowls and actually made us catch our balance.  At least the wind is warmer at South Point!

It was at South Point that I saw both new and old wind farms, as well as cattle and horses grazing in the incessant wind.  I saw this image of the watering trough in the middle of an old corral area.  I loved the blowing grasses, the color and texture of the watering trough, and the contrast to the new technology of wind power.  Nikon D300 with 24-70mm on a steady Gitzo, Carbon fiber tripod with the Really Right Stuff ball head.

About 25 miles back, we spent time at Panulu'u Black Sand Beach.  It was purported to be a place for turtles but I immediately saw this young man, waiting patiently with his net to catch fish.  In 45 minutes, he never threw the net and I photographed him with a variety of angles/positions and lenses.  I choose this image because it tells a story.  A story of place, purpose, weather and light.  Again the 24-70mm f2.8 lens was used and it was hand-held.  As he moved for a better angle, so did I.  He was catching fish and I was catching him.