The day started with me in the mood to plummet off something tall. No, I wasn’t depressed or anything, the 11th floor of my hotel over looking concrete Kalakaua Avenue would have sufficed for any such ambition. True, the weather that day could be seen not only in the skies but also on the faces of the tourists that came to Oahu for sunshine and 80 degree weather. Instead, what they got for their $1000, 7 day & 7 night package was grey and hovering around 67 degrees. I personally didn’t mind, and figured I’d take advantage of the fact that traffic would be kept at bay along Kamehameha Highway towards the town of Laie, on the northeastern portion of the island.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall is a part of my Hollywood Movies Based in Hawaii collection, along with 50 First Dates, The Perfect Getaway, and Blue Crush (So what??). In the film, the main character follows the queue from Mila Kunis and takes a plunge off the rock and shrub encrusted Laie Point and into the ocean, followed by a proverbial romantic kiss. In all my years back and forth through Oahu I had never bothered to take the turn off the highway to Laie Point, usually b-lining for my favorite place in the world – the North Shore. But this time I was in the mood for a little cliff jumping adventure and turned up Anemoku Street and kept going right until I reached the point.
With its sharp and treacherous volcanic landscape, Laie Point is more of a beast than a natural attraction. In fact, it has history to back up this assertion. Laei Point is most recognized by a rocky outcropping a few meters across the water from land that has a gaping hole in the middle as if it was blown out by a cannon ball. The aperture appears so purposeful that it’s existence, and that of the other four tiny rock islands surrounding Laie Point, is accompanied by Hawaiian legend. Tale is told that the five islands seen from Laei Point are the petrified remnants of a monstrous lizard – Mo’o – that once terrorized the land and waters of the North Pacific. Kana– a Hawaiian warrior seeking to avenge an attack on his mother by the giant lizard set out to kill the beast and in battle, severed its head into five pieces. These amputations sit transfixed in the ocean surrounding Laie, for our viewing pleasure. The heroic yet ominous tale is stamped into a plaque and stone fronting the entrance of Laie Point to the delight of shuttled sightseers and perhaps to serve as a warning to others, like myself, that came here for adventure.
Tell me the surface doesn’t look like scales!?
The weather that day scared off the tour crowd so I was left on my own – refreshing at first then a little unnerving should my plunge into ocean meet with consequence with no one around to call in the town paramedics. I scaled the scaled surface of Laie Point and came across a feature that further reinforced the legend. Sprouting out towards the horizon was the perfect shape of a lizard, complete with a moss covered back that gave it the appearance of life, a long neck, a forehead, an eye, and an open mouth of teeth. This thirty foot long growth appeared to the the Mo’o in the midst of rebirth. It was so specific that I wonder why it had yet to be mentioned in any guidebook.
The Mo’o reborn, stretching out to the sea
The winds picked up and rain began to pelt my brow as I slipper shuffled the now slippery layer of Laie Point looking for the best place to leap – a prospect I now began to question. I found the concrete platform that someone had probably created as a fishing perch, with “Laie Point’ scribbled into it. The clouds darkened the water’s surface and waves began to slap the sides of the point, spraying in the air and testing the limits of the water resistant camera tied to my wrist. There was not one discernible place for anyone in the water below to climb back up. The sides were not just vertical, they formed a 40 foot tall jagged V around the base of the point. Scaling the beast after a cliff dive would be impossible. The distant shore, on a calm day, was a swim for only the most confident of swimmers – a description I like to think I fit. But today, as the waves swelled to eight feet, with no purposeful direction, I decided that Kana, or perhaps even the Mo’o itself was giving me a warning.
Back down Anemoku Street I hung my head a little low, defeated by something that Jackie from That 70’s Show was able to accomplish, yet soon found solace in the fact that Leonard’s Malasadas Food Truck was parked in front of the Laie Village Center. To think I almost let bravado take me away from ever again enjoying a Haupia – Coconut Creme – filled Malasada. That really puts things into perspective.
Wish You Were Here
Marcus
marcusmaraih 