Priest’s Confessions: Paradise: it’s all in how you define it | Columnists | Summerville Journal Scene

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Priest’s Confessions: Paradise: it’s all in how you define it

Published Tuesday, July 14, 2009 12:40 PM

By Ellen Priest
Summerville Journal Scene ®

Hemahema is Hawaiian for clumsy.

That’s me. And I proved it on a recent family trip.

We began our Hawaiian vacation by hiking to Volcanoes National Park to see the lava flow in the darkness of early evening.

I twisted my knee, forcing us to turn back … so we ended up taking a five-hour hike – half of it in the dark – and not seeing any lava.

We decided to tackle the water next.

We rented kayaks, and paddled a mile to get to an island containing Captain Cook’s monument. After landing the kayaks with much difficulty, my husband and I tried to enter the water for snorkeling.

Then a wave hit. A big wave.

I hit the rocks so hard it took my breath away … after I finally surfaced, that is. I was bleeding profusely from about 10 different places.

We regrouped and entered the water in a different area.

My bleeding wounds were making it difficult to enjoy snorkeling, so my daughter suggested climbing up near the monument to re-check the injuries.

When I got close, another big wave hit and I got rolled again. This time I hit the side of my body that was not wounded the first time.

When she finally helped me to shore, I looked like I’d been through a war.

I was already starting to bruise. A Good Samaritan brought me some gauze to stanch the bleeding.

We got ready to head back in the kayaks. Launching them would be difficult in the surf.

We managed to get my daughter’s off. My husband and son got ours in position and told me to climb in.

Then – yep - another big wave. I’m now sitting in a kayak that is on its side, hanging on for my life.

And then the mother of all waves hit, catapulting me headfirst out of the kayak into a tree growing amongst the lava rocks.

Yes, a tree. I got launched from a kayak headfirst into a tree.

I crawled around to retrieve the paddles and back to shore. And I was still not in the stupid kayak and on my way back.

Okay, maybe we would try dry land again.

The next day we went on an 11-mile hike along the Na’Pali coastline. Did I mention that my husband is insane?

This was not an easy hike. There were many inclines, often at about 45 degrees.

I limped through 11 miles over eight hours. At one point we were hugging a cliff – you know those cartoons where the characters are hiking while hugging a cliff? That was us.

I was wearing a knee brace but the pain was so bad, I still had to get assistance on the bad parts.

Back to me being clumsy: We were walking along and paused for a moment and I tripped on … nothing. I just tripped and fell into the brush.

Got a couple of abrasions to add to my wounds.

A few minutes later, we were hiking in loose red clay with gravel on an incline. And I went down again.

A minute later, I went down again! Got a few good bleeding cuts that time.

My husband was laughing so hard it took him a while to help me up. In his defense, I was laughing pretty hard myself.

He says I fell three times in a tenth of a mile.

It’s amazing I ever get through a day intact, isn’t it?

When the kids suggested taking surfing lessons, you can see why I hesitated.

But after checking to see that my life insurance was paid in full, we did, and I survived with only one small injury: I managed to get the ankle tether cord wrapped around my upper arm. I now have a ring of nasty bruises in that spot as a souvenir.

But I did get up on that surfboard.

My wounds are healing, and my bruises are starting to fade. What will not fade are the memories we created.

We snorkeled, boogie boarded, surfed, hiked, and spent two solid weeks together.

I hadn’t spent two consecutive weeks with my husband or my son in over two years ...

Now that’s paradise.

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