My husband, Dewitt, and I were frequent visitors to Maui a couple of decades ago. We were addicted to windsurfing, particularly in the glorious waters of the Hawai`ian islands. Though we had also visited Oahu, Kaua`i and Hawai`i island, we never seriously thought about living in the 50th state.
As luck would have it, our friends Rik and Bronwyn Cooke, invited us to their home on Moloka`i. After a week of sailing and sunburn, we made our way to the tiny commuter terminal at Maui’s Kahului airport. A big, smiling Hawai`ian man tagged our bags and weighed us preparatory for boarding the little Twin Otter prop plane.
“You ever been to Moloka`i?” he asked.
“No,” I answered. “This is my first time.”
He thought for a moment, then asked “Have you ever been to Hana?”
“Oh yes. I LOVE Hana!” I exclaimed, remembering the slow pace of the tiny rural village at the literal end of the road in Maui.
“Then you’re going to the right place. Moloka`i is a big Hana.” he beamed.
That made me smile!
Lynette, the jury is still out on whether you are a better writer than photographer — no, wait — I meant better photographer than writer. I suspect the jury may never come back.