Notes from the Sandwich Islands

The trip to Hawaii was too short---only eight days long. In retrospect it was good that I returned when I did, because the trans-Atlantic terrorist plot was revealed on the very next day. I didn’t have to turn in my toothpaste and eyedrops, and I had the luxury of arriving at Honolulu airport only eighty minutes before departure. One day later and the wait time could easily have doubled.

The "Olive Bar" at Star Supermarket.

The variety of Hawaiian food continues to amaze. The selection is wider than can be found in California; every foodstuff available to Californians can be and is imported to the Islands, but local fruits and vegetables aren’t exported in order to prevent Mainland crops from being infested by tropical insects. The fear of fruit flies is the reason we X-ray every piece of baggage going to the Mainland, and the line for the agricultural inspection scanner was longer than the security and ticket lines.

One expects niche marketing by the local grocers but even the warehouse outlets, such as Costco and Sam’s Club, cater to Hawaiian tastes. I marveled at the variety, quantities, and low prices available to the consumer. One could easily put together a luau for 50 people on one trip to Costco, with only microwave reheating required. Dad picked up some macadamia nuts--canned and roasted, which easily passes the ag-inspection--for me to take back to the Mainland while I bought some tuna poke (POH-kee) with limu (seaweed) at $10 a pound.

The Honolulu Costco has surfboards.

I was apprehensive about picking up a golf club after a two-year layoff, but I couldn’t say no to my brother. We went to Olomana on a cloudy Sunday afternoon, long after the hard-core golfers had already finished eighteen holes. With Big Bertha woods borrowed from an uncle, it felt like I was swatting at the golf ball with an oar. I hit a few good shots but too often I was in the trees and marshes. As for my short game, calling it “abominable” would be too kind. Well, at least I communed with nature more than I would have if I spent all my time on the fairway.

On the back nine of the Olomana golf course.

After a long afternoon of flailing and hacking, we replenished our depleted stores by dining at the Hungry Lion Coffee Shop in the Nuuanu area of Honolulu. The Hungry Lion is known for its generous portions and the tree growing in the center of the restaurant. The tree rises far above the roof and is completely walled off from the diners’ view, a shrewd business decision in light of the tropical flora and fauna growing in its leaves and branches.

The $12 dinner special consisted of chicken, mahi-mahi, and shrimp. Once again I had to let the belt out after a meal.

I left Hawaii with a light tan, souvenirs, and over a hundred digital photos, mainly of the family reunion. As I said last year,

I knew our vacation was a good one because I was reluctant to get on the plane. The two weeks that had appeared so plentiful at the start seemed inadequate at the end (a metaphor for life!)

© 2006 Stephen Yuen