Leaving the beach behind

Two kids courting colds can't go near the water, but Oahu's charms save the day and three generations enjoy some family togetherness.

By Brenda Wong | Times Staff Writer

April 11, 2004

Bailey and Samantha work off some pent-up energy in the pineapple garden maze, with its 11,400 native plants, at the Dole plantation. (Jack Wong / For The Times)

We had every reason not to take a family vacation to Oahu last Thanksgiving. The kids would miss school. We hadn't cared much for Waikiki after our honeymoon a decade ago. It was the busiest time of year to travel. And my parents — ever lovable but occasionally trying — would be with us.

So of course we took the trip.

On Thanksgiving Day, eight of us — my husband, Jack, my children Bailey, 7, and Samantha, 4, my parents, my brother and sister-in-law and me — flew to Honolulu for six days.

I feared we'd be sorry — and I feared it even more when both kids developed mild coughs that meant no beach and no pool, leading a disappointed Samantha to say, "When I grow up and become a mommy, I'm going to Hawaii and going swimming."

So we put away the swimsuits and pulled out the maps, traveling to nearly all parts of the island. To our surprise, we had a great time.

"I don't want to be ridiculous," Bailey said that first morning at breakfast at Duke's Canoe Club as he licked the coconut syrup off his lips, "but I wish I could live here."

Brain teaser

Off to a good start, we drove 40 minutes north of Waikiki to the Dole plantation, whose pineapple garden maze is said to be the world's largest permanent puzzle. The kids enjoy doing mazes on paper, and I thought the botanical brain teaser would give them a chance to run around after being cooped up in planes and cars the day before. Good choice. They ran and skipped after Jack, our designated navigator, through the 11,400 native plants, which included bromeliads, hibiscus, panax and crotons.

Although the path is just a little more than a mile and a half, it felt much longer, especially for those of us (read: me) who lacked good walking shoes and had forgotten to bring water. The gravel surface made walking tricky, and a hat and a good sense of direction would have helped too. After an eternity (OK, only 30 minutes), we exited the maze. "Hurray, we made it!" Bailey shouted.

We continued north to Waimea Bay on the North Shore, stopping at Sunset Beach to watch the waves pound the sand; a sign warned beachgoers of strong currents that could sweep away the unwary. For the entire trip, this was as close as we got to the beach.

Jack is a foodie, so naturally we stopped at the Macadamia Nut Farm Outlet of Tropical Farms. We relaxed in the easy atmosphere of a family-owned business (founded by Chrissy and Stephen Paterson nearly 19 years ago) and sampled its free Kona coffee and macadamia nuts. But what really took our breaths away was the sheer beauty and lushness of the landscape, all part of the Kualoa Ranch, Oahu's largest. We wanted to take the garden tour, to see more, but the sun was setting, so we vowed to return another day.

We continued on our circular tour of the island, driving through the town of Kailua. Somehow we got lost looking for the Pali Highway, which would lead us back to Waikiki. Apparently we weren't the first.

"A lot of people end up here," said the friendly woman we asked for directions. "This is Lanikai. It's a special place," she said. The spacious homes, the ocean views and the scads of runners and walkers attested to that.

My parents were glad we got lost because we got to see a part of Oahu most tourists don't. When I was a child, my dad would say "We're sightseeing" whenever we got off track. While we were in Lanikai, I heard myself saying the same thing. As they would throughout the trip, my parents thoroughly enjoyed themselves. They were along for the ride and didn't bother with maps, directions or itineraries. Wherever we went was fine with them, as long as someone else was driving. It worked out well for everyone, including my brother and sister-in-law, who spent the days by themselves and joined us for dinner.

Chocolate scores

The next day, we took the kids to the Bishop Museum, Hawaii's largest, commemorating 2,000 years of Polynesian history and culture. Aside from the 6,000-pound sperm whale skeleton — which frightened Bailey but left Sam in "I'm-not-afraid" mode — the museum held little interest for them. They perked up, however, as we strolled through the chocolate exhibit, a traveling display from Chicago's Field Museum.

Appetites stimulated, we stopped at nearby KC Drive Inn. Dayton Asato, whose grandfather bought the restaurant in 1934, greeted and seated us, telling us milkshakes and "waffle dogs" were the restaurant's specialties.

Booths fill the restaurant, and the kitchen serves the dining room and a takeout window. (Despite the word "drive," you need to get out of the car to place and get your order.) The interior didn't appear to have changed much since the '70s, but it was technologically up to date: It had free Internet access, so Jack took the opportunity to read his e-mail.

As for the food, Samantha tried a waffle dog (a hot dog wrapped in a pancake-like waffle) but was more interested in her strawberry milkshake. Bailey had no trouble wolfing down his cheeseburger. I enjoyed my wonton noodles but relished more Jack's hamburger steak, which he declared the best he'd ever eaten.