By Don Chapman
Kevin McAfee pointed into the blue. I followed.
Just ahead, twenty feet below the surface, safely wedged out of harm's way between two rocks and apparently napping, lay a small sea turtle, 20-24 inches across. Kevin scratched a thin growth of green and brown algae off its shell with his fingernails. Rather timidly at first, I petted its shell and then began to scratch at the algae. The turtle's eyes slid open. It craned its neck around to look at us, blinked once, twice, and turned away. I rubbed its flippers. They were surprisngly soft. The turtle closed its eyes again.
Even before petting my first green sea turtle, not to mention first endangered species, this kayak-scuba dive outing had already been elevated to my personal pantheon of favorite travel experiences.
It started on the beach at Kapalua. Talk about auspicious beginnings. Kapalua, located on the northwest corner of Maui, was named "America's Best Beach" by the University of Maryland's Coastal Research Laboratory. While judging beaches in Hawaii alone is rather like trying to decide which Rockette has the best legs, Kapalua really is a special place. It's long been my favorite swimming beach in all Hawaii.
Kapalua Bay is framed by two long, spindly black arms of lava from an ancient flow that in its younger days had steamed down to the sea and taken hold. In fact, Kapalua translates to "arms embracing the sea." Eroded by time and waves, the lava arms are about 150 yards apart and reach 200 yards from the crescent of the white sand beach into the ocean, gradually sloping down and finally disappearing, then bobbing back again with the wash of waves and froth. Alternating coral and sand form a patchwork of blues on the bay floor.
After sending me out to get the the feel of an eight-foot Ocean Kayak Scrambler, Kevin, PADI Master Instructor and president of the Kapalua Dive Company, mapped out three possible dive sites and paddling routes up the Kapalua coast. Because the trade winds were picking up in the Pailolo Channel between Maui and Molokai and because of the chance to see turtles, we opted for a site requiring an intermediate paddle.
"The Kayak Scuba Dive program has been a great success," Kevin said. "We started it because guests wanted to see more than just this bay. It's a small bay, a fragile. But within a few minutes this coastline offers some of the best diving on Maui. To my knowledge, we're the only company in Hawaii offering a kayak dive program.
"The great thing about the kayaks, apart from just being fun to paddle and adding another element to the adventure, is that you can get to dive sites that bigger boats can't reach and you don't burn any fossil fuels getting there. Which also means there's no noise pollution. And our small anchor won't do the damage that a bigger boat's anchor can inflict on the reef. We're in there and out of there without leaving anything more than the wake of the kayaks."
Following a detailed paddle and dive briefing, we loaded up the boats, with tanks strapped to the back of the kayaks and fins, masks and weightbelts to the front. This a new development in both Scuba diving and kayaking -- Ocean Kayak are built with space for air tanks molded into the hard plastic. Kevin led the way as we paddled out of the bay and turned north, pointing the nose of the little boats into small but persistent waves.
Gusty trade winds, as the local weather reports say, whipped up white caps out in the channel. "Stay close to the rocks," Kevin called. "The wind won't affect us as much."
He was right. Hugging the rocks, breathing the salt spray launched by countless collisons of sea and shore, we stroked up the coast 15 minutes against the wind and then into the lee and the calm of a black lava cove. We were surrounded on three sides by dark cliffs 20 feet high. The everblue water was 30 feet deep and so clear you could see the bottom.
Kevin dropped a small anchor on the sandy sea floor, tied the two kayaks together and we pulled on masks, fins and weight belts. He then demonstrated how to inflate the air tank's vest, flop it over into the water, get out of the kayak without flipping it, and get into the floating vest without flipping yourself. His system is remarkably simple and efficient.
And then down, down, down we went into the wild blue under.
Even if you know that Hawaii's islands started as small volcanoes on the ocean floor that rose through the ages and the sea and finally pierced the surface and eons later reached into the sky, most of us fixed in the usual land-locked position tend to see this Earth ending at the water line. But now as we descended past those same cliffs and ridges I saw the Earth in a new way. There is a continuity to this land, from the top of the West Maui Mountains (5,788 ft.) down through Kapalua and into the sea, all one grand piece of work.
And like the land above the sea, a dazzling array of plant and animal life thrives off the land below the sea. Coral -- living things, green and white and purplish, some that grow like mushrooms and some like fingers, and a golden lace coral as dainty as a doily -- clings to the rocky bottom. Algae, sea weed and a sea lichen as orange as a neon pumpkin have taken root in the rock. So many fish -- trigger fish, trumpet fish, puffer fish, Moorish idols, manini, surgeonfish, yellow tang and butterflyfish -- cruised the reef and the rocks looking for a free lunch that Kevin spent a lot of time pointing at names of fish printed on a plastic board to identify the creatures swimming around us.
He spotted a small octopus and scooped it up. The octopus squirted thick, black "ink" like a smoke screen that swirled through the water as the octopus hurried away and buried itself again in the sand.
And then he spotted that turtle. We also saw two larger turtles. One swam away as we approached and we stopped -- to continue after it would constitute harrassment for a federally protected species -- another that was three feet across and swam with us at 30 feet before it surfaced for air. We saw a lot of other colorful fish and rock and lava formations that were breath-taking (not an easy thing while hooked up to a Scuba tank). Surfacing after 45 minutes below was like most vacations, filled with mixed emotions -- glad to be be back home again and sorry to leave that other wondrous world behind.
Removing the dive gear and loading it (and us) back on the kayaks was as simple as unloading it and soon we were paddling out of the rocky cove. With the friendly shove of a following sea, we practically surfed past the lava coast and quickly arrived back at Kapalua Bay.
The experience had lasted over three hours, but seemed like minutes. That's a good working definition of a "fun," isn't it?
A few travel-technical notes: We got down to 35 feet, but Kapalua Divers can tailor a Kayak Scuba Dive for anyone from experienced divers to novices. A nearby site, for instance, goes to 60 feet. If you do not have dive experience, Kevin also offers instruction for beginners starting in the swimming pool. The sit-on-top Scrambler kayaks, designed by former U.S. kayak Coach Tim Niemer, are stable, very maneuverable and unsinkable. Nice little boats. Kevin's dive equipment and wet suits were first class and in top condition. His advice was concise and accurate and his manner friendly. And we saw some really neat stuff. That's all you can ask of a guide.
Kapalua Divers operates out of the Kapalua Bay Hotel's beach concession stand, but the Kayak Scuba Dive program is open to the public. The cost is $89 and reservations are advised. For more information, phone 800-367-8000 or 669-5656 on Maui.
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