I informed Wayne and Murray that I was going to spend the morning touring downtown Hilo, and I invited them to join me afterwards on the 3:00 p.m. tour of Mauna Kea. They said they would probably see me then.
A friendly couple, also staying at Arnott's Lodge, offered to drive me to town, and I gladly took them up on it. Arriving in downtown Hilo, I was surprised by how small and quaint it was. I browsed around its dozen shops and grabbed a noodle salad at a health food store. After lunch, it took barely an hour to see the whole of Hilo -- not very exciting, truth be told. With the time remaining to me, I walked to the bus station, arranged plans for my trip to Kauai on Sunday and wrote in my journal (feverishly trying to catch up!). At 2:30, the Arnott shuttle picked me up.
Back at the lodge, Wayne and Murray were waiting for me, raring to go to Mauna Kea. Tony and his friend Chris rounded out our small party. The five of us soon set off. Mauna Kea means "White Mountain," and it is aptly named. A dormant volcano rising over 33,000 feet from the ocean floor, Mauna Kea is technically the tallest mountain in the world (though some 19,000 feet of it is submerged under water), and its peak is covered with snow in the winter. It sits directly across from Mauna Loa, another dormant volcano, which actually rises a bit higher into the atmosphere than Mauna Kea, but doesn't run as deep into the sea.
-------------------------------------Mauna Kea----------------------------------
Mauna Kea is currently the site of one of the world's most comprehensive astronomical observatories. At 14,000 feet above sea level, the mountain summit towers above virtually all cloud cover, offering one of the best unobstructed views of celestial scenery on the planet.
Our tour took us first to the mountain's base, where I took some photos. Then we shifted into low gear and exploited the van's engine for all it was worth as we fought our way up the slope. At approximately 11,000 feet, we turned off the main road and took a side path to a mountain lake . . . where Tony presented us with an interesting challenge. He informed us all that the lodge gives a free T-shirt (a $10 value) to anyone who swims in its frigid waters -- with one catch: you had to be naked. (As if the 45-degree water alone wasn't enough of a deterrent!) I pondered this offer as we walked towards the lake, and by the time we made it, I had psyched myself up and somehow convinced Murray to join me (Wayne thought we were nuts!). I tested the water -- which was a mistake -- and then stripped down to my birthday suit and jumped in anyway. Murray and I skinny-dipped just long enough for Wayne to snap a picture (waist up, of course), and then we high-tailed it back to shore and the warmth of our forsaken clothing.
---------Freezing Our Naked Butts Off For A Free T-Shirt----------
As we trudged along the half-mile trail back to the van, Wayne let out a strange, high-pitched "koo-wee!" sound, which echoed resoundingly off the surrounding mountainsides. Wayne and Murray went on to explain that this was a very Australian thing to do: when lost in the Outback, or just looking for some company, a well-executed "cooee!" would reward you with a similar response, eventually leading you to the location of your nearest neighbor. Murray tried a cooee next, but he sounded really pathetic (sort of like Peter Brady going through puberty when he sang that "Time To Change" song). Truthfully, I had been somewhat reluctant to attempt the call, figuring my American throat would embarrass me, but after Murray's miserable performance, I figured there was nothing to lose. I let out my sincerest cooee, and though I detected only the faintest of echoes, I thought it wasn't half bad for my first shot. The Aussies said it was "okay," and let me in on the secret of the expert cooee (basically, a long, drawn out "koo" and a short, sharp "wee" allow for the strongest echo). I tried several more calls, each time improving considerably. For reasons I can't adequately explain, nailing a solid cooee felt quite good.
Wayne and Murray soon adopted me as an honorary Australian (though mocking me that I'd have to let up a bit on being such a photo-happy "tourist" for the title to stick), and taught me some of their vernacular. I learned Australian slang such as "chewy" (gum), "swimmers" (bathing suit), "Sheila" (woman) and "pissed" (drunk). They laughed at some of my words for things, especially bathing suit ("ya sound like a Sheila") and power nap (although they thought "power kip" was perfectly normal).
We soon made it back to the van, and then it was time for the vehicle to crawl the last few thousand feet up the mountain. We eventually reached the end of the road, and Tony informed us that if we wanted to tackle the true zenith, we would have to hoof it. My new found Aussie friends and I gladly accepted the challenge. We climbed a short, steep slope, and we reached the apex out of breath, but otherwise intact. The first thing we noticed was a sizable patch of snow on the far side of the mountaintop (proving that the sheer height of Mauna Kea was more than enough to compensate for the tropical heat of Hawaii's summertime sun). Stretching out before us was a white carpet of a different sort -- not snow, but clouds. I felt like the king of the sky, standing on my island castle, floating in a foamy sea. The only discernible landmark peaking out of the pale monotony was another far-off mountain (I later learned that this "mountain" was really the island of Maui).
-----------------------------------Atop Mauna Kea-----------------------------
We arrived at the summit just as the sun was beginning to set. Already, a pallet of colors was streaming across the sky. The shadow of Mauna Kea was projected upon the screen of clouds, and beams of multi-hued light burst around it. I truly had the view (if not the power) of Zeus atop Mount Olympus.
I took a few photographs (much to the continued amusement of "Wayne and Garth" [as I had dubbed them -- in my head at least]), and we trekked across to another peak.
------Wayne And Murray Suggest Which Way To Go Next---------
When we reunited with Tony and Chris, the former pointed out the group of multi-million dollar telescopes housed nearby. Then we watched in awe as the sun finished its dive and sank below the clouds.
With the last pink rays of sunlight came the last hint of warmth. My comfort level set with the sun. Soon my jeans and sweatshirt weren't enough to combat the cold, and not forewarned of the temperature drop before leaving the lodge, I had nothing else to wear. Tony gave me a jacket, but it did precious little to insulate me. We were anxiously awaiting twilight's end in order to spy the starscape (the much ballyhooed mountaintop nighttime view was the reason we started the trip so late in the day), but long before the first star winked on we went back in the van to warm up. Thus shielded from the 37-degree cold, we waited out nightfall from the comfort of our cloth seats.
Slowly, the stars began to reveal themselves . . . one . . . a dozen . . . a hundred . . . a thousand . . . a galaxy. As soon as the sky filled, we universally cursed the cold and stepped back outside. The height of Mauna Kea, combined with the absence of artificial light, set the stage for an impressive show -- I've never seen so many stars in all my life! We all layed down on the mountaintop and gazed up at the heavens. It was truly breathtaking! For a moment, I shut out all distractions and floated through infinite space. . .
. . . but then it just got too damned chilly, and I crash-landed back on Earth.
As one, we stood up and piled back into the van. We headed down to the Mona Kea Museum, where they had two public telescopes stationed (along with two knowledgeable astronomers). I viewed the Milky Way, several star clusters, the "double star" of Alpha Centari, the Scorpio Constellation (not visible in my native Long Island sky) and the planet Jupiter, along with 4 of its moons. Viewing Jupiter led to a lengthy discussion about what may happen on July 16th, when a massive comet is predicted to bash its surface. Some scientists speculate that the impact may destroy the planet or knock it out of orbit; others say the gases will combine to create a new sun; and still others predict almost no effects at all. (I'm certainly routing for the latter theory, but we'll just have to wait and see).
Finally, it was time to go. I snoozed most of the ride back, made a quick turkey sandwich on Hawaiian Sweet Bread when I returned to the lodge, and hit the hay.
2 comments:
Koo-wee? Oh my, maybe that should be taught here in the states. There is a spot here in PA where people are lost frequently. (Heart's Content) Perhaps that would have done them some good.
Oh, how magical! I would love to see the stars so clearly!
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