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A Valley Isle reportage. Shoot first, write later.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Little Beach Unplugged
























Did you know that the Uhu - or "parrotfish" in Hawaiian - is responsible for up to 70% of the sand found on Hawaii's beaches?  The little uhus munch on coral,  digest it, and defecate sand.  Pictured above is Big Beach in Makena on the south shore of Maui.  It's one of the longest and most scenic stretches of uhu shit I've ever seen.  I parked my truck at the first entrance of Big Beach and find someone metal detecting.  I'm here for morning light and I try to catch some shots during "Golden Hour."

I'm facing roughly north and over that little lava hill you see in the background lies a quaint, quite stunning, crescent-shaped piece of sandy oceanfront aptly named Little Beach.  For those of you who don't already know, Little Beach is the clothing optional beach, and that's all we tell the visitors.  On a nice sunny day, you will find all manner of people of both sexes partially or totally de-robed playing paddleball in the surf, lounging around reading a book, or swimming.  On Sunday nights, LB is known for hosting weekly fire dancing and drum circles.
























We sometimes motor by Little Beach on our snorkel tours and let our passengers gawk.  It's all part of the nickel tour (notice the lack of actual nude pics).

Assuming you don't have a boat and can't swim in, you can access LB by walking over that little red volcanic mound in the right side of the above photo from BB.   You will see this sign, and yes, please don't get hit by falling rocks or try to climb that cliff face.

Once you reach the acme of the petit hill, you may start getting excited in anticipation of seeing droves of naked young vixens prancing in the surf slathered in Hawaiian Tropic SPF 5.







I assure you that you WON'T.



You see a path in the sand.  Where is the beach?  Turn left.  There it is.  Notice all the footprints.  Where are the people?  Well, on this day, I was there early, so I saw only two people.

One of them - a middle-aged Causcasian male wearing nothing but sunglasses - started to stroll back and forth along the beach near the water's edge.  What's he doing?  It looks as if he's trolling for Marlin.

There's nobody else here, he can't possibly see me, I'm in the kiawe bushes behind the sand trying to make my way to the far side of the beach to access the tide pools (these tide pools on the right side of LB  just invite you to jump in, and you'll typically never know they're there unless you go to LB).


What else is on the right (north) side of LB?  Remember that earlier pic of the path in the sand wandering through the kiawe, well, if I face the tide pools and turn right, I find more paths leading seemingly nowhere.  Snaking through a mix of sandy dirt, piles of volanic rock, and rough patches of kiawe, the area seems like the least inviting place on the island.  I need to investigate.  So I venture farther in, and what do I see scattered randomly on the ground:










I take it all in and decide to leave.

As I make my way back across the sand to the main entrance of LB, I spot another middle-aged, nude Caucasian male who has arrived in the meantime, and who, when he observes the Nikon DSLR slung around my neck, promptly puts his pants back on.

Don't worry dude, I won't shoot.



How symbolic of our time - two beaches next to each other, one grand, out in the open for all to see, and another more hidden refuge, with covered paths and secret enclaves.  Big and Little Beaches - mirrors of our larger society, it's all there.

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