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And use it wisely we do. Ransom charters a passenger van for us and we take in the sights as he drives us through the lush terrain with the ocean to our right looking as blue as the sky.
I’ve had quite a few adventures on Kauai during cruises past. The entire lot of us attended a luau down in Poipu, and that sort of ended with Nettie in a vat of chocolate—or was it a vat of kalua pork?
Nevertheless, it was a delicious disaster.
Then Wes took me kayaking up the Wailua River and we stopped off at the glorious Fern Grotto. After that, he whisked me away to the Wailua Falls. That’s where the opening shots to Fantasy Island were filmed way back when.
I used to love watching that show as a part of my Saturday night lineup when I was a kid. And here I am, living my own fantasy, teaching art classes on a cruise ship and sailing the ocean blue with the hottest man on the planet by my side.
Okay, fine. Two of the hottest men on the planet by my side. I’m counting Wes in that equation.
After lobbing around a few activities, we settle on kayaking up the Hanalei River. The river is spread over sixteen miles, stemming from the northern hillside until it reaches the sea.
Bess and Nettie team up—with Sparky, of course. Ransom and I team up as well, and Wes takes out a single-seater. The landscape morphs from verdant pastures to a rainforest before our very eyes and we even see a few cows along the hillside as we paddle along.
The river is so calm it hardly requires any manpower to get our kayaks cruising through the waters. And just as we’re rounding out our trip, a light rainfall refreshes us.
Once we’re through, we hop back into the van—hungry and determined to get that food tour underway.
We spot an entire army of food trucks parked in front of Hanalei Bay, so we park, load up on seemingly one of everything from every single one of them, and hunt for a decent place on the beach to sit and indulge.
“Look at that,” Bess says, pointing to a giant orange banner strung across the entry to the bay. “There’s a sand sculpture competition taking place this afternoon.”
“I bet we’re in for a real treat,” I say.
“Let’s hit it.” Ransom wraps an arm around me as we trek that way and the entire lot of us settles on the sand on one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever been to.
At approximately two miles in length, Hanalei Bay is surrounded by dramatic jungle-strewn cliffsides. Children run in and out of the relatively calm waves and a handful of paddle boarders dot the surface of the water in the distance.
And as the sign said, today we’re lucky enough to be treated to over a dozen mammoth displays created out of nothing but the dust of the earth. One of the sand sculptures is a giant rendition of the word Aloha, with each letter at least seven feet tall and cut to perfection. There’s a sculpture of a whale that I’m pretty sure is life-size. There’s a giant serpentine dragon that looks less than friendly but awe-inspiring nonetheless, and there’s even a giant castle that looks as if you could step right into it.
It’s magnificence upon magnificence.
Hanalei Bay just keeps on giving.
We spread out over a beach blanket and hit our culinary offerings hard. Ramen with more flavor than noodles should ever be allowed to have, grilled cheese sandwiches that have more cheese and butter than you could buy at the grocery store, and a mini luau in a box for each of us—kalua pork and lomi salmon with a side of haupia pudding. We can’t forget the shrimp tacos that are already on my must-have-again list, and last but never least, a poke bowl for each of us—diced fresh tuna over a bed of rice with seaweed. It’s an acquired taste, but once you’ve acquired it, you never want to go back.
“Don’t tell the chefs back on the ship”—Wes starts—“but this is some of the best food I’ve ever eaten.”
“I agree,” Ransom says.
Bess chuckles. “And to think, they never agree on anything.”
“Well, I agree with them, too,” I say. “But don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge fan of everything there is to eat on the Emerald Queen.”
“You’re in for a treat,” Ransom says. “Whenever the ship changes locations, the chefs switch things up in the kitchen. It just gets better and better.”
“That’s right,” Bess says. “We haven’t been to Alaska in ages. I can’t wait to get back there. Aside from the stunning glaciers we’ll get to view, there are so many fun activities once we get on land. We’re going to have a blast.”
Nettie nods. “And as an artist, you’re going to thrive. In fact, since the heat won’t kill us, you can host some of your art classes out on the deck.”
“You can paint glaciers,” Bess suggests. “I’ll be the first one to sign up for that class.”
“About that.” Wes sighs. “There’s something I have to tell you. You might want to brace yourself.”
“Brace herself?” Ransom shakes his head at the captain. “Do you really want to rain on Trixie’s parade while we’re sitting in paradise?”
“What were you going to say?” I ask Wes as my curiosity begins to piqué.
