Tag Archives: Honolulu

Hawaiian Adventures – Nightclubs and partying


Since Waikiki is such a tourist town, there are dozens of nightclubs up and down the main street… much like Las Vegas or Atlantic City, but with beaches. The atmosphere itself isn’t honestly much different from what I got used to living in a freshmen dorm at college – as my friends and I walked down the street looking for dinner we heard parties raging all around us, and even got into a few shouted conversations with people leaning over hotel railings. It was spring-break all over again; fitting, since I believe that week actually is spring break for a few colleges, if the number of drunken frat / sorority members is any indication.

But nights on the town in Waikiki were quite good, even with the large number of drunkards around. You see… as Physics 101 taught me, “everything’s relative”. As in, if you’re the sober one, and blessed with just a wee bit of insanity, hanging around drunk people can be hysterical. And when a whole group of those drunk people are your Swedish friends, who used to be in the Swedish Military and are convinced that they can drink harder than anyone else in existence… well, lets just say that a night on the town can take a whole new meaning.

These guys were amazing party partners – We had already spent most of that night hanging out and trading stories, so by the time we headed out we all knew each other semi-well (Ed Note: It’s a unique thing about hostels, You know someone for 2 hours and suddenly you’re partying as if you’d known each other since pre-school). First up we checked out a burger joint right across the main street from our hostel – a rather iconic place called “Da Big Kahuna”.

Now, as anyone who’s seen Pulp Fiction knows, an extremely tasty burger is to be found at “Da Big Kahuna”… but what you may not realize is that this burger is actually named “Da Big Kahuna Burger”, and it’s a freaking massive stack of saturated fat and death… a massive stack that tastes like a rather well sized slice of heaven. And with this burger? Well, that’s where I remembered the best part about spring break – the insane discounts on alcohol. A Mai Tai for $2? Yes please! And I even tied the stem into a knot with my tongue… all the guys made fun of me until they realized that the women at the table were now all competing to see who could replicate my feat the fastest. Mmhmm… win.

For the rest of the night we wandered around, checking out the clubs and bars, the tiki lounges and the more relaxed joints. Of the night, I have to say that the best moment was hanging out in an old-school Irish bar, chatting with the only other New Englander in the entire place about how the bar was billed as an “authentic Irish baahh” complete with all the best furnishings, and yet the bartenders needed to be reminded what a Black & Tan is. The worst moment was about two hours later, when we’re hanging out a lounge with a huge number of well-dressed women… and then reading a flashing sign on the bar reading “Lo Jax! Honolulu’s #1 Tranny Bar 5 years in a row!” … Yeah. Was not happy with the girls who had brought us there. And seriously… worst Mai Tai’s ever. Horrid drinks.

The best side-story of the night comes from one of the ladies who was wandering around with us – it turns out that she was only 20, and had obtained a fake ID while still in Europe for just the occasion of drinking in the USA (FBI / CIA Operatives – I don’t know her name, and I don’t condone this action. Give me a call, maybe we can find this horrible person together… I get spy-gear, right? Right. Clearly). However, this ID was from a country that doesn’t exist: “the eastern republic of East Franzia” or something to that effect. The first bouncer at a place called “Senor Frogs” took one look at it, didn’t recognize the country, and pulled out his smart phone. After being unable to find the place on Google, he called her out and sent us all on our way. Seriously… that is one awesome bouncer. Annoying, but seriously a pretty boss guy to actually check to see if a country is legit.

Hawaiian Adventures – SCUBA Diving


On my second day in Waikiki, I had seen a sign advertising $100 SCUBA trips, and then again on the fourth day I saw a sign bragging about the best SCUBA tours on the island. I had been talking to my friend Kasia earlier that day, and she had been reminding me about some of her adventures SCUBA diving in New England, such as that one time that she got chased across the ocean floor by a 5lb (~1.kg) lobster. Thus, when I saw the second sign, I knew that it was a sign (hehe), and I had to schedule a dive.

I called the number up, called a second and a third number, and finally was directed to a dive shop that was running trips for beginners. The problem with all of the other ones was that they were based off of the North Coast, the coast that was currently being smashed by gigantic winter-wind-whipped-waves. Thus, they couldn’t take a boat out, much less send inexperienced divers over the side.

Thankfully there was a dive crew out of Waikiki, and soon enough I had a dive scheduled for the next day, when a shuttle would pick me up from the hotel just like the VIP that I clearly was. I quickly learned that the shuttle was more of a necessity than simply a courtesy – there was a lot that I had to learn about SCUBA before I was even allowed on the boat; there was honestly even a flip chart that I had to memorize, with the help of an amazing instructor named Mel. She went over all of the equipment with me, explained what not to do, and explained that she’d be diving right next to me the whole time, so that if anything went wrong she’d be there to fix whatever I had done wrong.

My first dive was one of the scariest things that I’ve done in my life, and if you’ve read this blog at all then you know some of the insane things that I’ve done. In all of my climbing or backpacking adventures though, I’ve always had the option of simply sitting down and waiting though – never before had I found myself in an environment that was utterly inhospitable to non-augmented human life. Without my respirator, I would last less than 5min in that ocean, and that single fact scared me, a lot. But once I got used to the idea that I could actually breath through this small hose, and that I would in fact be getting enough oxygen for my brain to work somewhat normally, I started to actually enjoy myself a lot.

The first dive started out with a quick “skills course”, where we stayed near to the boat and went over the basics of diving that Mel had taught me with the aid of the flip chart. First up was simply breathing, followed by clearing my mask of water if it somehow filled up, after which we actually dived underwater to go over the “how to get your respirator back if it comes loose” training, and reviewed the “never hold your breath” rule, along with how to equalize pressure in your ears and mask as we descended.

Once all of the basic skills were checked and clear, we followed the Mooring line downwards into the deeps. The first thing I noticed once I looked down (I had been steadfastly staring at Mel the entire time before we started down, for fear that I wouldn’t be able to see the bottom) was how clear the water was. I could, from the main mooring line, clearly see the bottom of the ocean 35 feet down and had no trouble spotting the many schools of fish that stayed nearby the boat as it crashed across the waves. That in itself was amazing to me – what a small boat looks like from underwater as it rides over the waves. What I thought was slow and graceful while I was on the boat turned out to be violent and thrashing from underwater.

As we descended into the deep I had to pop my ears nearly once every three feet, but we did finally make it to the ocean floor. I started out by just practicing swimming around – an interesting piece of information about SCUBA diving is that, while actually down there, you don’t use your hands to paddle. Instead, you keep them clasped in front and simply use your feet and fins to power you through the deeps. It took a bit to get used to this idea, but soon enough I was following Mel through the whole area, checking out the craters and coral. We even saw two Sea Turtles while down there, though I only got a good picture of one.

The first dive was short though, since we had spent so much time going over the basics near the surface, and so soon we were going back upwards, towards the violently crashing boat. The first thing I noticed about the surf was the coloration – for some reason it seemed to be made of millions of little crystals, instead of the waving sheets of glass that it had been made of when we descended. I realized why as soon as we reached the surface – it was raining. From the bottom we could see the ran pattering against the surf, and I’ll admit that it came close to taking my breath away… even with the breathing mask attached.

The other thing, aside from the rain patterns, was the cold. It was freezing near the surface, and when I got back onto the boat it wasn’t any better… in fact the cold made my previously minor sea-sickness even worse. I don’t know if it was the cold, the rougher surf, or a combination of those and the cold, but either way I was not doing well when I finally got myself up onto our wee little boat. I held myself together pretty well until we reached the second dive-site, but there I finally lost it and started puking over the side of the boat.

Now, I’m not one to get seasick or airsick or even carsick; I can actually read in the backseat of a car quite easily. But at that moment my stomach just didn’t care, and it was booking no thoughts other than “I am going to die now”. Thankfully the guides had some bottles of water on board, and thanks to that and a lot of staring at the horizon I was able to get myself right just in time for the second dive.

And this time, I had no problem dropping off the side of the boat into the ocean. Anything to get me off of that rocking hellscape, and since Mel and I had already gone over the basics we were down at the ocean floor in less than 5min of leaving the boat. The thing about the seafloor is that you can still feel the waves, but instead of moving up and down, the waves are moving towards and away from the shore. And side-to-side isn’t nearly as bad on my inner ear it seems, since I was quickly feeling up to charting my own course around the area. Mel stayed right next to me of course, and gave me the basic direction to go in, but I was able to stay behind for a bit to check out a pretty piece of coral, or shoot ahead over the flat bits to look into a small sea-cave off to the side. It was completely amazing, and I was loving every second of it.

One of my favorite moments of the second dive, or really of the entire trip, happened just at the lip of one of the “cliffs” that we were exploring. Mel and I were in a crater, and up on the edge I thought I saw someone sitting down… naturally I thought it was one of the members of the other group, and so I headed over hoping to see part of their open-water certification test. Getting closer I noticed a whole school of fish right around them, and thought to myself “Hey, how’d they get fish so close? Did someone throw up?” (Ed Note: Fish simply love puke. Right after Ben threw up over the side of the ship a massive school of… somethings… swam up right under the boat. Everyone thanked him for bringing them over… Ben of course didn’t notice at the time) As I got closer I finally saw the person for who they were: a statue. A large stone statue, carved in the likeness of an ancient Hawaiian warrior, had been sunk down into the dive area, and now had a small coral reef attached to it that the fish were feeding off of. I took a picture, which is still my favorite shot of the entire day.

The rest of the dive consisted of a ton of small reefs, a whole series of small canyons, maybe 1 or two meters (3-6 feet) deep, tons of fish, coral, and even a few more sea turtles. It was completely excellent, and I actually started to feel almost natural moving myself around with only my fins. Mel and I explored the whole area, though I’m sure she already knew it by heart, and I even kept my lunch together pretty well. Unfortunately I was starting to notice the cold of the ocean though, and so I’ll admit that I wasn’t completely sad to get out of the water when we were finished. In total we spent nearly 45min deep underwater on the second dive, compared to the 25min of the first dive, and by the time we got back to the boat I was definitely ready for my warm towel.

After the short trip back to the docks (yes, I held my stomach in check just fine, thank you very much) we unpacked the gear, put on normal clothes, and went through the dive books for the certified people. Then, we hit McDonald’s. Yep… there’re tons of McDonald’s in Honolulu too, unfortunately… but fortunately for my health and digestion I was still feeling much too sick to eat. In fact, it wasn’t until after a two hour nap and two bottles of ginger ale that I finally felt up for a hotdog, let alone of a full meal. But it was 100% worth it to learn the basics of SCUBA… and I promised myself that I’d be diving again soon. Or, just as soon as I could afford it again.

Hawaiian adventures – My Hostel, and Wandering Waikiki


Waikiki Backpackers hostel

My first goal after I had booked my plane ticket through Honolulu was to set up somewhere to sleep while I was there. Thankfully at this point I had gotten fairly good at searching for Hostels (thanks Nelson and Motueka!), and so I jumped online, and had found a cheap and highly rated backpackers within less than half an hour. I booked through for seven nights, set up a pickup at the airport, and went on my way without a worry.

Once I got to Honolulu and had dragged my pack through customs, I called up the shuttle service and let them know where I needed a pickup from. Meeting the shuttle went smooth, and before I knew it I was standing outside of a semi-swank hotel, wondering where exactly the hostel was. (Ed Note: Ben used “Hostel” and “Backpackers” interchangeably here – they do actually mean the same, its just that Backpackers seems to be a more Kiwi / Aussie term). I called them up, and found out that the Hotel WAS the hostel – they simply booked out the hotels spare rooms as needed, forming a rather impressive symbiotic relationship with the hotels in the area. Because of this, I found myself sleeping on a queen sized bed in a hotel in Hawaii, barely two blocks from the beach.

The main lounge of the Hostel was, unfortunately, in a hotel next to the one that my room was located in… meaning that I needed to find someone to sign me in every time I wanted to get up there. And I wanted to go to the Penthouse, as well called it, a lot – they had free breakfast every morning, free WiFi all the time, and on Tuesday and Saturday they had “free beer night”. Granted the beer wasn’t the fanciest stuff out there, but it was in fact beer, and it was in fact free. Those two traits caused it to be quite excellent, in the opinion of this traveler.

The best part about this backpackers though, even above the free beer, was the people. Immediately I was drawn to a small group in the lounge area – they just had this energy that meant that I couldn’t resist just walking up and introducing myself. These people ended up being my constant adventure partners, and are still amazing friends that I keep in touch with regularly. The backpackers here simply brought people together; people with similar energy and vibrancy – travelers who all share the same thirst for adventure and excitement.

Wandering Waikiki

My first few days in Hawaii were relaxed. After my long roadtrip of constant movement, with the looming threat of returning too late to catch my flight, I really appreciated the change of pace. And if you want someone to relax, Waikiki is the ultimate place to be. The stereotypical Hawaiian beaches are here, and pretty much any “touristy” activity can be found within a ten minute walk from the center of town.

I started my adventures the same way I start in any city that I’ve never been to – I walked. I took the advice of one of my Uncles, and picked a hotdog stand as my destination. The place was called “Hanks Haute Dogs”, and it had been rated one of the ultimate places to go on O’ahu, so I felt pretty safe choosing it as my first official lunch on the island. The walk was a bit more than 3 miles away, which gave me a long time to check out the feel of the city… and listen to a few tunes that I had gotten stuck in my head during the long New Zealand drives.

After devouring the second best hot dog I’ve ever eaten (Sorry Hanks, but Spikes is still clearly superior) I wandered around the area a bit more, and then turned back towards the main beach by my hostel. On the way though, I found myself watching a spray-artist working on a full-wall mural for a car dealership. The mural depicted the creation of the Hawaiian island chain, according to the mythology of the native Hawaiians. It was amazing, and even though it wasn’t 100% complete I could see the amazing skill that the artist was putting into the work – it honestly rivaled or exceeded many of the “professional arteests” that I’ve met in my travels. We chatted for a few minutes as he waited for one of the layers to dry, and he pointed me in the direction of a few other areas in Waikiki that had amazing “urban artwork”, which I of course went and photographed.

Overall I spent nearly two and a half days just wandering around Waikiki itself. I spent time sitting and reading on the beaches, watching volleyball matches, and staring gape-jawed as surfers carved waves bigger than any I’d ever seen (Ed Note: Heh. The biggest waves he’s seen SO FAR. See Ben’s post on the North Shore exploration for descriptions and pictures of “real” Hawaiian waves). The place was so laid back, and yet so hectic at the same time, that I found myself having trouble sitting still long enough to finish an entire chapter of my book at any one sitting… I guess its the danger of a nearly pure tourist city.

And that brings up the comments on the people that I met and saw while walking around this tourist city. The people here ranged from gaggles of Japanese middleschoolers to busloads of venerable Americans, all decked out in the latest “theft-proof” tourist gear. The sheer number of orange women I saw around was staggering, and honestly a bit confusing to me – I mean, if you’re coming to Hawaii, why go into a spray-tan booth ahead of time? Why not just wear a wee bit of sun screen and get a natural tan while your on one of the sunniest islands in the world? <shrug> I’ll never understand some people.

And of course, to contrast all of the tourists were the native Hawaiians, though by that I don’t necessarily mean the true “natives”… instead I simply mean “people who live in Hawaii”. These people were generally easily identifiable by their annoyance at the tourists getting in their way, the smooth way that they navigated the city, and by the impossible amount of ink that they had embedded in their skin. Not to make broad generalizations, but the amount of tattooing that I saw in this city was astounding to me – not often single large pieces like Kitty or Oliva have, but dozens of smaller pieces covering their bodies. The most prevelant piece of tattooing that I saw was the Hawaiian island chain in its complete glory – I guess its a mark of “islander pride” to have that inked onto your stomach.

The restaurants ran the same broad spectrum as the people, and I ate at more than a few very interesting places, that almost always seemed to have a mirroring “American” restaurant located right across the street. For every Da Big Kahuna or Hanks Haute Dogs local dig, there seemed to be at least one Dennys or Chile’s, and while I didn’t personally recognize them, I’m sure many of the other Asian restaurants that I saw were, in fact, chains from Japan or China.

But even with the number of “stupid tourists” and chain restaurants, I found Waikiki to be a stellarly relaxing city, and it was almost definitely the best way for me to ease my way back into an “American Lifestyle” in a real city, instead of the suburb of Christchurch.