Day 11 - Monday 14th October 2019
All too quickly, the last full day in Kona arrived. We’d make the most of it…
All too quickly, the last full day in Kona arrived. We’d make the most of it…
Starting with –
finally – some loco moco. A “traditional” Hawaiian breakfast. Not really an
“Ironman” breakfast, but the Ironman was over now. It consisted of rice, a
hamburger patty, fried eggs and gravy, all piled up on a plate. Superb. Even
more superb when it’s 30 degrees and you eat with a view of the ocean at an
open air restaurant.
It didn’t
disappoint. The place we went to served it up with shredded beef instead of a
hamburger patty. It was amazing. Almost worth the trip alone. I ate and ate and
ate, and then ate everything that the others couldn’t finish eating.
Magnificent. And this magnificent meal was paid for by a running friend back in West Cork named Geraldine, who we all know. It was a magnificent gesture from a very brilliant person.
What a pair
Great shirt
The aquatic life
treated us to another great show, with the spinner dolphins doing their thing.
Swimming along just offshore in a big group, their fins breaking the surface,
and from time to time, they’d jump up, completely out of the water, and spin
while they did it. Apparently they simply do this for fun. And why not?!
The photos don't do it justice
We had a short
wander about. Sarah Crowley (a top female pro) was obviously nearby as her bike
was sitting just outside. I’m sure her bike was worth ten thousand dollars. It
had a lock on it, but it looked like you could chew through it. Kona is
obviously quite an honest place. Deirdre and I had arrived a couple of days before Steve and Natalie, and we had seen Kona before the Ironman circus had really kicked off. Natalie and Steve were only now seeing it "without" the Ironman, and Kona is undeniably a nice, laid-back place, with a massive global event taking over for about 10 days every October.
On a boardwalk wall, there
was a big poster entitled “the world’s most dangerous sharks”, with images of
big fearsome-looking beasts. I’m sure sharks aren’t unknown in Kona and Hawaii.
To date I hadn’t seen a single thing in the water that caused me any concern. I
didn’t see any jellyfish, manta rays, sharks, big fish, or anything. It was
only the small, colourful, benign ones. With one last day in the water today, I
hoped it would stay that way!
Actually, one thing
did give me concern in the water – Steve’s lack of swimming ability the first
time he was in the water. A lot of the trip would revolve around being in the
water so I was very glad when a bodyboard and a flotation aid solved the
problem!
We headed for
Maniniowali beach – the bodyboarding beach with the dumping waves where Deirdre
and I had been bodyboarding before Steve and Natalie arrived. It’s a great
spot. We drove out along the Queen K, with bodyboards and snacks loaded into
the back of the car. It was as if the Ironman had never happened. The traffic
lights were back on, the roads were all open, there was traffic again, the aid
stations were all away. There were only a couple of cyclists out for one last
spin to shake out their legs before leaving the island.
Maniniowali beach
was hot. And scenic. I was getting used to the black lava, blue sky and heat
and clear sparkling water by now. But the colour contrasts at Maniniowali were
something else. It looked brilliant. We got suncreamed up again and went to
play in the water, like the spinner dolphins. It was great fun. Steve was now
confident enough in the water to properly do some bodyboarding. Natalie
described this as a Hawaiian miracle. So he did well…
It was good fun,
trying to catch a few waves and riding them to shore. I’ve never surfed, but I
can imagine it is absolutely exhilarating. Bodyboarding is a much easier
proposition, but still along the same lines as surfing. You’re out in the
water, in the elements, feeling the force of nature through the waves, trying
to read the patterns and trying to decide which waves look like they are worth
trying to catch, then trying to time your paddle so that the wave will catch
you just as it is breaking… If you get it right it’s brilliant – you’re zooming
effortlessly to shore, carried by the wave. Then you have to work to get back
out beyond the breakers, to try and catch another one. It’s really good fun.
Like a boss of the waves
Waiting to catch a wave... like meercats
It says "Great Success" then the waves washed it away
I suppose it’s
comparable to working and working to climb a mountain on the bike and then
getting the downhill “reward”, or climbing a mountain on foot and getting the
views. There’s something really rewarding about using human power. That’s why,
I guess, we do things like Ironman triathlons. In 2005 when I worked in France,
I didn’t understand the people who drove their camper vans up the Alpine
mountains, parked their vans 200 metres from the summit of an Alpine col, took
their bikes out, set up their videos, filmed themselves “summiting” on their
bikes and then jumped back into the camper van to drive back down. Often they
were wearing yellow jerseys too…!
I could have spent
all day in the water but didn’t want to get too much sun and risk getting
burned. So we lay on the beach, in the shade under the parasols, and dried off
while eating snacks and drinking. We had also planned to go to a different
beach today – a more remote one, where you literally have to drive over a rough
track through a lava field, park up and then hike across a lava flow to reach
it. We had hoped to make it to this beach and then back to our condo before
sunset so that we could eat down by the waterfront at the condo complex as the
sun went down.
But things always
take longer than you think, and we decided not to rush. We could watch our last
sunset from the remote beach instead. It really was literally a drive over a
lava field. It wasn’t a road, it was a rocky, bumpy track, which you had to
negotiate by driving at walking pace. It went on for ages and ages and ages.
But it was unreal, driving over black lava, some of which looked like it was
still soft and molten. Other-worldly. Finally we reached a parking area.
There was a first
beach, (Mahai’ula beach) near the parking area, which you had to walk along
before reaching the trail which led to the second, more remote Makalawena
beach. The sun was starting to sink low in the sky off to the west. We ambled
along Mahai’ula beach, splashing our feet in the waves and clambering over some
rocks. In the evening light, it looked amazing. There were some palm trees,
under which was a turtle sleeping on the beach. Incredible. We wondered if it
was OK, if it needed water, if it was too hot. We met a few other people who
said it had been there all day, so we assumed it was happy enough resting
there. Occasionally it would wiggle a flipper or move its head. We sat and
watched this Hawaiian honu and listened to the waves.
The "19" is the Queen K highway. You can see the track through the lava field to the beach, and then you can just about see the lava path running north-east to the remote beach
Views from the car on the lava track
The remote beach was
maybe a 20-minute hike away, over a rough rocky path through a lava field. We
started to wander along this path. Flip-flops and sandals weren’t really ideal
footwear for this, and there was no light of any description if it got dark on
the way back. We realised that we didn’t have time and that the going was too
tough for those in flip-flops, so we headed back to where the turtle was
resting. The remote beach was north-facing anyway, so we wouldn’t have seen the
sunset.
Oh Hawaii.
There were some
original old fishing cabins behind the beach. There were some goats behind the cabins. I didn't expect to see goats on the lava. What must have inspired people – centuries
ago – to travel across the Pacific, into the unknown, to find these islands,
and to decide to stay and make their homes and their living in what must have
been a very harsh, hot, barren environment…?
...Probably the same thing which
inspires people to do Ironman races, to qualify for Kona, and to come here to
compete. A spirit of adventure, of seeing what’s possible, of seeing what’s
over the horizon, of pushing one’s limits, of moving forwards.
It was a short and
very dark walk back to the car, and a bumpy rollercoaster car drive back across
the lava fields. Steve was in his element driving, but I just wanted to be back
on flat roads. We headed back and made dinner. Or rather the others took charge
of it. I sorted out the beers. A range of bottled Kona Brewing Company beers,
no less. They looked fantastic. The same beers as the one I’d been presented
with at the awards ceremony at Ironman UK, when I found out I had
qualified for Kona. I still haven’t drank that one, and probably never will…
The dinner also
looked fantastic. We took it down to the oceanfront and got stuck in. It was
quite late and quite quiet, and the temperature was perfect. A great way to
spend the last night. The beers were superb. And cold. Most triathletes dream
about having a beer when they finish their race. It’s a reward. For many, it’s
a mental visualisation when the going gets tough in the marathon. I’ve never
had these visions and I’ve never had the stomach for post-race beers, but the
light Kona lager I had now was absolutely superb. Easy to drink, refreshing,
cold. I was less keen on the Kona ales, but I’ll remember my lager for a long
time… There was also prosecco - Deirdre had flown on Virgin Atlantic and one of the stewards was from near her hometown, and she got a free bottle of prosecco.
Then we had to plan
the packing and airport and eating and returning-the-rental-car operations for
tomorrow. Deirdre was on an earlier flight so she would have to go sooner. I’d
drop her out to the airport and then come back and pick Steve and Natalie up
(Steve still hadn’t done his shopping, talk about last-minute…) We’d then try
to get some food, load the car up and head off. I had a huge amount of stuff to
pack as I had picked up quite a few freebies, and quite a few other bits and
pieces too. I was a bit worried about weight limits, and even having enough
room in my luggage. And the bike had to be dismantled and packed too…
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