Above the cloud line, the night air becomes cold and clear, with visibility no longer compromised by tiny droplets of water suspended in the air. This feature, along with Hawaii’s famously dark skies and low global latitude, makes for an ideal stargazing environment – quite possibly the brightest and clearest view of the heavens to be found anywhere in the United States. The grouping of massive telescopes at the mountain’s summit is a testament to this, with mind-boggling amounts of resources spent assembling these sci-fi looking domes in a wholly inhospitable environment of desolate, ancient high-altitude lavafield.

From the summit, a sea of clouds can be seen obscuring the lower flanks of the mountain, with occasional appearances of Mauna Kea’s neighboring volcano Mauna Loa across the great divide, making it seem as if two towering mountain tops were suspended in the sky. Far out on the horizon, it looks like the view from outside an airplane window – a carpet of puffy white clouds and stunningly blue sky and nothing else. The land at the summit is reddish gray and thoroughly weathered, with great rolling hills of cracked rock navigated by a road that loops up and down many switchbacks. It looks like a moonscape at first glance, only betrayed by the cluster of a dozen towering domed buildings seeming to spring out of the earth.

These are the telescopes – funded and maintained by eleven different nations – that have made Mauna Kea the global mecca of land-based astronomical research, with their facilities located within a more than 500-acre “special land use zone” comprising part of the much larger Mauna Kea Science Reserve. Incredibly, the grounds of the telescope complex are open to the public during daylight hours, although the buildings themselves are strictly off-limits to visitors. All mountain-goers have to do to reach this fascinating spot is check in at the Visitor’s Center and ensure that their vehicle is capable of four-wheel drive. 

The gravel road of steep switchbacks connecting the Visitor’s Center with the summit complex is less than nine miles long, but takes nearly half an hour to safely drive. Taking the time to make that extra drive up the hairpin turns above the shrub line is worth it in the end, though, as the full panorama of sky finally comes into view at the top, offering a spectacle that many visitors to Big Island don’t ever get to see.

The Visitor’s Center offers an impressive range of educational models and informational displays, airing videos about the history of the observatories and its myriad research programs. The geology, ecology and cultural importance of Mauna Kea are common topics of the exhibits, as well as more general info about astronomy, volcanology and the formation of the Hawaiian Islands. Unlike the summit area, the Center is open past sundown, which tends to be a busy time due to the several small telescopes – some up to 16 inches in diameter – that get deployed in its courtyard for visitors to use. Peering through the viewfinders on clear nights, first-time astronomers can see planets, star clusters, galaxies, nebulae and other other-worldly looking features of the night sky.

These impromptu nightly stargazing programs are usually run by a staff member or volunteer who walks gazers through a constellation tour, sometimes using a laser pointer to direct their attention to specific objects. This spot is also a popular haunt for amateur astronomers, who make the long drive up the mountain just before dark to set up their own telescopes in the same courtyard area and scan the sky for familiar sights.

Visitors to Mauna Kea who are planning on making the extra trip up to the summit should keep in mind that its strongly advisable to spent at least half an hour (or three to four hours to be even safer) at the Visitor Center’s halfway point in order to acclimatize to the high elevation. Altitude sickness is a real and potentially life-threatening hazard present on the mountain, and the risk is significantly heightened when planning to go higher than the Center. So, come prepared to take a rest stop before climbing the final section, and familiarize yourself with the symptoms of altitude sickness just in case you or someone in your party begins to feel sick.

Hawaiians’ Sacred Ground, Useful Rocks, And An Ecological Challenge

In the ancient Hawaiian religion, the summits of Big Island’s mountains are considered sacred. For generations, a law existed in old-time Hawaii that stipulated only high-ranking members of royalty may visit the top of Mauna Kea, as by being the tallest of the island’s five volcanoes, it was also seen as the holiest. They considered the summit area to be the “region of the gods”, and a place where benevolent spirits lived. In the Hawaiian language Mauna Kea is short for “Mauna a Wakea”, meaning “white mountain”, named so for its snow-covered summit in the wintertime.

Commoners lived on the flanks of the mountain and depended on its large swaths of forests for food, and on its deposits of hard volcanic basalt rock for tool production. Europeans began to arrive to the island in earnest by the late 18^th Century, who introduced cattle, sheep and game animals, many of which escaped their enclosures and became feral, causing significant damage over time to the mountain’s fragile ecological balance.

Nearly a millennia ago, ancient Hawaiians established quarries high up on the mountain to mine exceptionally hard basalt rock found in deposits in areas where red hot rock met glacial ice and quickly cooled. Volcanic glass was collected to make blades and fishing gear, and this industry was going strong until European and American-made steel tools began to replace them wholesale.

How To Get to Mauna Kea

Reaching Mauna Kea’s Visitor’s Center and summit telescope complex can be a bit tricky for first-time visitors to Big Island. Regardless of whether you are coming from Hilo or Kona, though, you will end up on the Daniel K. Inouye Highway, otherwise known as Saddle Road or Highway 200. 

Visitors coming from Kona-side will pass by the Pohakuloa Training Area and its extensive stretch of military troop housing and support buildings before reaching the left turn onto Mauna Kea Access Road. A few miles before the turn, drivers will pass the Gilbert Kahele Recreation Area with picnic areas, an outdoor jungle gym, modern restroom facilities and fantastic views of the mountain. 

After turning left onto Mauna Kea Access Road (right if coming from Hilo), follow it for roughly six miles keeping left at the fork and following signs for the Visitor’s Center, officially known as the Onizuka Center for International Astronomy, which is open seven days a week during business hours, and usually stays open for a few hours after sunset to accommodate its free stargazing program.

This is where the paved road ends, and beyond the Center the route to the summit is a winding stretch of gravel switchbacks that runs another roughly nine miles before ending at the telescope complex loop. It’s important to keep in mind that occasionally the summit road is closed beyond the Visitor’s Center due to bad weather, especially in the winter. So, it’s smart to check to see if the road is open prior to planning a trip to the summit to avoid a big disappointment. Also, those who do opt for a day trip to see the telescopes need to begin the descent back to the Visitor’s Center after sunset as nighttime at the summit is when the researchers work.

All of the buildings at the top are off-limits with the exception of the Subaru Telescope, which does offer pre-planned tours during the daytime on a limited availability basis. It’s also crucial to dress warmly if you plan on sticking around for sunset, since ambient temperatures can drop to as low as 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Most rental car companies on the island have their customers sign paperwork promising that they won’t drive their rentals beyond the Visitor’s Center due to the hazardous nature of the road and other liabilities. If you plan on renting a car on Big Island and taking it up Mauna Kea, make sure to read the fine print of your rental contract to see if there are similar restrictions. 

The beach is found within the much larger Hapuna Beach State Recreation Area, consisting of more than 60 acres of scraggly, windswept coastal land offering hiking and camping activities in addition to swimming, sunbathing, snorkeling, barbecuing and boogie boarding along the beachfront. Hapuna’s reputation on the island is legendary; locals and visitors alike consistently rank it as one of the best white sand beaches in West Hawaii, and compare it favorably to the white sands of islands like Kauai where the wide band of inviting-looking sand the color of raw sugar hugs the shore and seems to go on for miles in both directions.

Hapuna is about the closest thing to this travel brochure vista that Big Island has to offer, considering that more than half of its coastline is made up of unforgiving black lava cliffs crashed against by towering, angry waves. Its grounds are well-maintained and handsomely landscaped, with several square open-air gazebos crammed with picnic tables and positioned next to barbecue pits. The green-roofed structures are expansive; each one large enough to seat several different family groups at once. Gently curving concrete sidewalks running parallel to the beach link the gazebos with stands of public showers and shaded grassy areas ideal for unfurling a picnic blanket.

Like a handful of other popular Kona-side beaches, Hapuna is divided into a southern “public” side and a northern “private” side. The private end is mostly used by guests staying at the adjacent hotels and resorts, including the Hapuna Prince Hotel, The Westin Hapuna Beach Resort, and the Hapuna Beach Residences at Mauna Kea Resort. These are the sprawling multi-story white buildings jutting out onto the bluff which seem to make their way into many of the most iconic photos of the beach. 

These accommodations provide lounge chairs and parasols for their guests, which can usually be spotted set out on the sand in neat rows or bunched together for storage. “Public” side visitors to Hapuna can still explore any part of the beach they want as long as they respect the hotel facilities and keep in mind that the inland areas north of the State Recreation Area boundary is technically private property. There is no hard boundary between the two sections of the beach, though, and hotel guests regularly wander down to the southern end while swimmers and boogie boarders often set out in search of more ideal waves up north. 

Beach conditions at Hapuna change dramatically between summer and winter, where from October through April large waves coming from the northwest charge into the bay and crash on the beach in spectacular fashion, drawing hordes of surfers and boogie boarders eager to ride the swelling waves. This is also the time of year where the beach narrows significantly due to shifting sand, contrasting with the summer months where it grows to its maximum width in or around the month of September. Waves and rip currents are calmer in the summer, too, when it’s typical for the beach break at Hapuna to be little more than a gentle, soothing lapping. Still, lifeguards are on-duty at Hapuna every day of the year and have made many daring rescues during periods of high surf.

However, due to its immense length there are several blind spots along the formidable stretch of Kua Bay sand, especially at either end where rocky outcrops provide ideal snorkeling grounds. Snorkeling isn’t as popular at Hapuna as other world-renown Big Island underwater adventure spots like Two Step at Honaunau Bay, but mask and fin-clad swimmers can still by spotted on most days plying the waters just offshore of the rocky cliffs looking for colorful tropical fish, cities of delicate coral and the occasional Hawaiian green sea turtle. Water visibility can sometimes be poor right offshore due to suspended beach sand and a layer of freshwater supplied by nearby springs which floats on the surface of the seawater. So don’t be afraid to swim out a bit to get a better view, at the same time keeping in mind that lifeguards can’t easily monitor the beach’s two farthest flanks.

A-Frame Camping and Hiking The Ala Kahakai Trail

Set just a few hundred feet inland from Hapuna Beach is a sprawling campground of sturdily built A-Frame structures available for use by campers. They are fully enclosed with bug netting, include sleeping platforms and picnic tables, and feature outdoor cooking facilities and communal bathrooms with cold showers. Each A-Frame can accomodate four people relatively comfortably, and costs around $50 per night with reservations that must be made at least a week in advance. During high tourism season it’s not uncommon for every A-Frame to be booked weeks – if not months – in advance, so it’s smart to plan ahead for a camping trip at Hapuna. 

Another great aspect of the recreation area is its proximity to the Ala Kahakai hiking trail. This is a nearly 16-mile-long loop following ancient Hawaiian footpaths that lead along the rugged, parched old lavafields of Big Island’s Kohala Coast. It takes hikers past some of the most pristine shoreline on the island, although in some places it’s poorly marked and even more poorly maintained. It’s important to exercise extreme caution at certain places along the route where the path skirts perilously close to steep sea cliffs.

Food and drinks are available within Hapuna State Recreation Area at the Three Frogs Cafe, which is found a little ways up from the beach area and open from 10am to 4pm daily. It’s a good place to grab a light lunch or snack after a long morning of swimming and boogie boarding, and it even offers rental items like snorkeling gear, beach chairs and parasols.

The only downside of Hapuna is that it can get exceedingly crowded on holidays or weekends during high tourism season. If you happen to visit the beach on a very busy day and decide that you want to escape the crowds, just a few miles south of the popular half-mile stretch of white sand is Beach 69 – a secluded and rarely crowded swimming hole shaded by a string of giant kiawe trees growing in stands along the shore. This smaller and more tranquil spot is great for swimming, and offers arguably better snorkeling ground than Hapuna itself. Beach 69 is covered in-depth with its own dedicated article on this website.

How To Get to Kua Bay

Hapuna Beach State Recreation Area, Kua Bay, is easily accessed via Highway 19, otherwise known as Mamalahoa Highway, roughly 30 miles north of downtown Kona and 3 miles south of the tiny Big Island port town of Kawaihae. Coming from Kona, there will be a left turn lane and sign for Hapuna Beach Road at approximately Mile Marker 70. Turn onto Hapuna Beach Road and continue down the hill toward the ocean for less than half a mile until the road turns into the patchy and potholed Old Puako Road. In another hundred feet there will be a right-hand turn into a large parking lot and signs for Hapuna Beach. 

Right at the entrance to the parking lot is a manned gate station where state park rangers collect parking and entrance fees. In general, entrance fees are around $5 per person and $10 per vehicle. Hawaii residents with a valid State ID or driver’s license can enter and park for free. However, it’s not uncommon to see the guardhouse closed and the gate left open, letting visitors drive past without making contact with any park rangers or paying any fees. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to when the gate station is occupied or not, so it’s best to come prepared to pay and hope that simply no one’s there. Park at the top of the hill and walk down the wide paved road past the green-roofed pavilions and barbecue pits to get to the beach.

Open fires, consumption of alcohol, pets, use of drones, and harassing wildlife are banned at Hapuna, with a small army of four-wheeler-riding park rangers keen on enforcing the rules and keeping everyone safe. There’s also nighttime security patrols that make sure only registered campers remain at the park after dark. Hapuna Beach State Recreation Area is open from 7:00am to 6:45pm daily for day-use visitors.

For those not wanting to wholly depend on Three Frogs Cafe for snacks and picnic supplies while at the park, the nearby town of Kawaihae has a handful of humble grocery stores but no supermarket. The Foodland supermarket in the medium-size cowboy town of Waimea roughly 10 miles east of Kawaihae is the closest spot to pick up a broader variety of picnic foods, drinks and beach gear, with a great range of restaurants and coffeeshops found in the same commercial center as the supermarket

Lava Highway 132, Hawaii’s newest lava field is found on Big Island’s eastern flank, in its rural and agricultural Puna District, and is traversed by a gently curving highway that was opened just a few years ago: Lava Highway 132.

This is a pristine broad-shouldered, two-lane road built on top of the vast sea of black rock left in the wake of the 2018 Lower Puna Eruption. It snakes down downhill through patches of spared agricultural land and long stretches of cracked, brittle-looking hills of hardened lava, the road itself a patchwork of old and new segments with their joints clearly noticeable by the different color and texture of the asphalt. Houses that were somehow miraculously untouched by the flow sit by the roadside; what was once a home on a country block is now a solitary structure lying in an island of untouched land with an endless rocky moonscape stretching out to the horizon in all directions.

The views from along the highway are a truly shocking, tragic and astonishing collection of sights to behold; the rusted metal skeleton of a barn sticking halfway out of a lava drift, mindbogglingly huge piles of dead, dried-out trees slowly being eaten away by the elements, the long-since-hardened bank of what was once a ferocious, rushing river of molten rock measuring in the thousands of degrees Fahrenheit now eerily still and quiet. This river was how the billions of gallons of lava spewing from the monstrous Fissure 8, now known by the Hawaiian name Ahuailaau (AH-HOO-EYE-LAW-OW), in the inland neighborhood of Leilani Estates managed to make its way downhill and almost completely destroy the small coastal town of Kapoho and much of its adjacent farmland.

Visitors making their way down Highway 132 today will drive through cross-sections of this riverbed, with its massive walls of cracked, jet-black rock that appear nearly vertical. Several pull-offs along the road allow for closer observations of the strange, curious and sometimes eerie-looking rock formations. All the different textures of lava are on display here: flat sections of hard, smooth, ropey lava known in Hawaiian as “pahoehoe” (PAH-HOY-HOY), bordered by drifts of porous, brittle and exceptionally sharp rock called “a’a” (AH-AH). The texture of the riverbed itself is peculiar: shards of crumpled, rippled rock that catch the sunlight and seem to glitter within the morass, appearing almost like a valley of black broken glass.

Beyond the channel’s far bank is the bright green canopy of a forest of trees growing at the edge of the flow field, which has regrown its foliage after a thorough dose of sulfuric gasses stemming from the eruption left its branches bare. Above the greenery, a baby blue sky full of puffy, cotton-candy clouds completes the tropical volcanic island color scheme: black rock, green jungle, blue sky. 

Stunning views featuring all these colors, along with the wide belt of turquoise ocean on the horizon, can be found at many of the pull-offs along the Lava Highway, particularly near its western terminus less than a mile from Lava Tree State Park and Puna Geothermal Venture. From this vantage point, the road winds gently downhill through vast stretches of new, largely flat lavafield, which affords onlookers an unencumbered view for several miles. 

It can be tempting to trudge up the bank of mounded boulders beside the road at this point to get an even better view, but be extremely careful: much of the 2018 flow field beyond the rebuilt highway roadbed is still very unstable, and countless undersurface voids such as lava tubes and sinkholes have been encountered by geologists studying the area. These voids can be large enough to swallow a car, and can still be dangerously hot even half a decade since all surface lava has hardened. 

During East Hawaii’s rainy season, huge white billowing clouds of steam can still be spotted drifting over the lower stretches of Highway 132, indicating that even years later there’s still enough residual heat deep underground to boil rainwater. To this day, during particularly heavy rainstorms, County of Hawaii roadworkers sometimes have to close the highway completely due to low visibility from the billowing clouds drifting across the lanes.

The Meaning Of “Kipuka” 

In Hawaiian, the word “kipuka” (KEE-POO-KAH) refers to an island of untouched land surrounded by lavafield on every side. The 2018 Lower Puna Eruption created countless kipuka as pioneering lobes of lava coming from the two-dozen fissures cropping up in Leilani Estates criss-crossed each other, destroying miles of roads and creating an intricate checkerboard landscape of intact farmland and still-standing structures surrounded by lava drifts. The homes within these islands were inaccessible – some of them still isolated even several years after the eruption – due to road loss.

The largest of these kipuka to form was known as the “Highway 132 Kipuka,” which was comprised of approximately 56 properties and 70 residential structures that were spared from destruction. Much of this was agricultural land, with expansive fields of papayas stretching away from the highway in both directions and small groupings of homestead lots, most of which utilized off-grid solar electric and rain catchment water systems. Almost all of the farmland within the kipuka became overgrown during the year-and-a-half when road access was impossible to the cutoff but still-intact section of highway. 

The County of Hawaii government recognized the need to reopen the road and reestablish access to the dozens of surviving properties early on, making it a top priority during planning sessions of eruption recovery work. In early June, 2019, the first bulldozers began the task of clearing more than three miles of covered roadway on either side of the Highway 132 Kipuka. This was made up of two nearly identical-length sections: one from just beyond Lava Tree State Park to the kipuka’s western edge, and the other from its eastern edge down to the former town of Kapoho and the area once called “Four Corners”. 

Contractors building the road sections worked quickly, navigating hundred-foot-thick lava hills, lava tubes and other dangerous voids that threatened to gobble up machines and workers, and even pockets of astoundingly high heat. Some of the crews had to pause construction for a time after coming upon 800-degree rocks that would warp bucket blades and melt the machines’ hydraulic hoses. The road was finally opened in late-November 2019 to the relief of dozens of Puna District residents, who slowly trickled back to their former homes and began the often daunting task of reestablishing their lives. 

These East Hawaii residents are accustomed to living with a volcano in their backyard, and have time and again shown a palpable resilience, stubbornness and plain grit in the face of so much disaster. Visitors to the area notice this shared quality among the locals almost immediately, and it’s easy to spot while driving along the new highway; the clusters of young coconut palms, ti plants and ornamental shrubs planted by undaunted hands along the stretches of otherwise barren, monochrome landscape. 

How To Get There

Lower Puna District’s Lava Highway 132 can be accessed via the small hippie town of Pahoa roughly 10 miles south of Hilo, Big Island’s largest city and home to one of its two main airports, Hilo International Airport (ITO). From the town of Pahoa, continue straight through the traffic light at the far edge of town and follow along the windy, jungle-lined road past the neighborhood of Nanawale Estates, and past the painted wooden sign on the left for Lava Tree State Park and its collection of curious, naturally formed lava monuments. 

Less than a quarter-mile past the entrance to the park, the sides of the highway abruptly go from towering dark green jungle to swaths of cracked black rock. This is the beginning of the Lava Highway, which swoops downhill for several more miles before coming to a stop sign at the very bottom of the hill. The most interesting lava formations are arguably along the highway’s upper portion, but its lower lengths are where steam clouds are most prolific after rainstorms, and where heat can still be felt emanating from holes in the rock. 

At the far end of the highway, just beyond the stop sign, is a makeshift parking lot with some excellent views of the rocky, deserted coastline and far-off Kumukahi Lighthouse, which has been long-defunct. From this parking area, either continue back up the hill toward Lava Tree Park or take the left turn onto Government Beach Road – a route leading to the naturally formed tidal pools known as Mermaid Ponds. This jungly, sometimes narrow road goes on for roughly six miles until intersecting the neighborhood of Hawaiian Beaches, which is only a few miles down the main arterial Kahakai Boulevard from Pahoa, creating a full loop. 

These are known collectively as “Mermaid Ponds” by locals, and they serve as some of the last remaining swimming spots in the entire district after the immensely destructive 2018 Lower Puna Eruption took its toll. This most recent flow engulfed several historic and well-loved ocean destinations, such as the Kapoho Tidepools and Ahalanui Beach Park, and nearly destroyed Isaac Hale Beach Park after filling in Pohoiki Bay with sand. Mermaid Ponds is located only a mile or two up the coastal Highway 137, otherwise known as Government Beach Road or “Red Road”, from the northern edge of the 2018 lavafield, so its survival is considered somewhat miraculous.

With very few other swimming spots left along the north Puna District coastline, locals have found a new appreciation for the unassuming outcroppings of jet-black lava rocks that fill with water at high tide and form pools that absorb heat from the sun on clear East Hawaii afternoons. This tends to turn the ponds into warm, salty bathtubs of crystal-clear water, loaded with schools of darting, colorful fish that seem to come in with the waves and get trapped when the tide ebbs.

There is sea life everywhere, albeit no mermaids; tiny scuttling black crabs, sea stars, urchins, Hawaiian limpets (“opihi”) clinging to slippery algae-covered rocks, sea horses, eels – even the occasional Hawaiian Green Sea Turtle can be spotted frolicking in the rolling waves just beyond the ponds’ seawall. The pools have rocky bottoms littered with fragments of shells, and sometimes a lucky swimmer happens upon a fully intact cowrie or angel clam. Bits of coral from the patchwork of growing reefs beyond the surf break can also be found on the bottom. These break off of their main outcrops in heavy seas and get blown into shore by heaving waves, where their porous white branches become scattered among the lava rocks and pieces of shells.

The tidal pools are more or less in a straight line along the coast, with three main bodies of water where depths can get overhead. They are bordered on the inland side by towering green cliffs of stubby “hala” trees; a member of the mangrove family which features a writhing, knobby trunk and sword-shaped serrated leaves. These halas grow in dense forests bordering the shore, perennially dropping their leaves and covering the forest floor with mats of crunching, golden brown and exceptionally tough fibers. The still-green leaves in the canopy rustle in the steady onshore breeze, complementing the soothing sounds of birds singing and tumbling lava boulders tossed about by the unencumbered waves. 

A smaller, much shallower and very rocky side pool can be found at the northern end of the complex, large enough for just two or three people to lounge in at a time. This is usually used as a backup option when the other swimming spots get crowded. But this particular pool can be hard to enjoy at high tide on high surf days when big rollers coming in off the open ocean crash against its far wall and send sheets of water cascading down on loungers.

A Safe Visit To Mermaid Ponds Depends Upon The Tides

Somedays high tide can be a hazardous time even in the main pools, where much of the protective sea wall disappears underwater and the raw force of incoming waves is hardly tempered when it hits the coast. Locals will regale first time pond-goers with stories of rogue waves exploding over the banks and temporarily turning the ponds into whirlpools, slamming swimmers against the rocks and threatening to suck people back out to sea with their backwash. In short, safely being able to experience Mermaid Ponds is completely dependent upon ocean conditions, and it’s a good idea to check tide tables and weather forecasts before hand to make sure you choose a promising day.

Low tide is usually the best bet when planning a visit, but very low tide can pose its own set of problems. Seemingly several times a month, the water levels in the pools drop to the point that they’re nearly completely dry, and what water is left at the bottom is extremely salty and sometimes stagnant. So the ideal time to swim here seems to be a few hours after high tide on a sunny, calm day with little wind.

The three main tide pools have varying levels of protection from the onslaught of waves, and usually on days when the first and last pools are churning and swirling wildly, the middle pool is still relatively calm. This is because it’s set back from the seawall a bit more than the other two, and the more ground that waves have to cover, the weaker they are when they finally arrive. This makes it an ideal spot for children or inexperienced swimmers, with a relatively easy means of getting in and out of the water. A scattering of large, flat-topped rocks found at the edge of the middle pool are ideal for sunbathing, usually covered in beach towels, water bottles, backpack coolers and drying clothes. 

For some more adventurous swimmers, this wave pool-like effect isn’t so concerning, and groups of people can often be spotted on medium-surf days being tossed about gleefully by incoming waves that come over the sea wall like waterfalls of white foam. On days like this, the thrashing pools are almost like amusement park rides, with crowds cheering as the waves break and the clear, placid waters around them are churned up into violent whirlpools.

Every so often on a clear late-afternoon, the towering figure of Mauna Kea – Big Island’s most culturally and scientifically important mountain – can be spotted far in the distance while swimming in Mermaid Ponds. Its slopes appear as little more than a grey line cast against a changing sky, climbing higher and higher until it disappears into a ring of low-hanging clouds that cling to the summit, obscuring it for most of the day. 

At the right time of early evening, though, some sort of temperature inversion occurs and the clouds shrouding the top dissipate for a moment, showing the mountain in all of its glory. It is a spectacular sight to behold; the still, tranquil ocean pools reflecting back the reds and oranges of sunset, while the forests of shimmering green rustle in the breeze and the silhouette of a massive mountain somehow becomes clearer and clearer in the fading light. 

How To Get There

Mermaid Ponds can be accessed via the northern section of Highway 137, more commonly known as Government Beach Road or “Red Road”. From the town of Pahoa, continue straight at the stoplight at the far edge of town onto Highway 132. This road winds through forests of ohia trees and thick jungle, passing by Lava Tree State Park and its curious assortment of naturally formed lava sculptures. Less than half a mile past the turn for the park, the jungle falls away and the sides of the road become desolate, jet-black lavafield. This is the aftermath of the 2018 Lower Puna Eruption, which destroyed several miles of Highway 132 that were subsequently rebuilt just a few years ago. 

Follow along these new sections of highway until getting to the very bottom of the hill. The thin blue line of the ocean will be visible on the horizon, as well as the now-defunct Kumukahi Lighthouse. There’s a stop sign at the bottom of the hill, and only a left turn is possible. Take this left onto Government Beach Road, and continue for roughly four miles through giant old-growth mango trees lining the road and a stretch of extremely dense broad-leafed jungle. 

At the bottom of a steep hill, on the right-hand side of the road, drivers will come upon an abrupt S-curve in the road with a painted yellow gate and low mortared lava rock wall on the right. Park off of the pavement in a suitable spot along the S-curve and walk along the edge of the rock wall to bypass it. Follow this driveway for roughly a quarter-mile through a section of jungle and a subsequent open clearing.

After crossing the clearing, the forest of hala trees will come into view with a clearly visible trail paved with smooth stones marking the way. The trail becomes pretty steep at this point, and hopping from stone to stone down the bluff can be a bit difficult for those with mobility issues. After a few hundred feet the forest falls away and the collection of pools making up Mermaid Ponds can be spotted below.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Getting to Mermaid Ponds requires crossing private property. The owners of the land with the driveway linking to the coast have been exceptionally gracious in letting people walk on their land to get to the ocean. This policy could change in the future, and those who choose to park along the road should do so at their own risk and not leave valuables in the car. This particular parking area has had a history of break-ins, so exercise extreme caution. 

It’s a rugged, isolated and serenely beautiful forest of rustling trees, outcroppings of moss-covered black rock, well-hidden lava tubes and the badly eroded ruins of an ancient Hawaiian heiau (temple), with a web of hiking trails traversing it all. The surroundings are peaceful and still, only compromised by the occasional commotion created by sets of immense rolling waves coming in off the open ocean and smashing against the cliffs. Visitors coming to the park to experience its tranquility and raw natural landscape might be surprised to learn some of the details of its backstory, too: it boasts a mysterious past dating back more than a century and a half – a history rife with ghost stories, urban legends and claims of the supernatural. 

The 2018 Lower Puna Eruption severely reduces access to MacKenzie, and a few rogue lava lobes did even cover a few small portions of land at its northeastern boundary. These new patches of lava are easy to spot these days: drifts of sharp, jet-black rock spread atop and contrasting against the mossy, grayish-black and weathered-looking rock from previous flows. This covered land included a handful of short sections of Highway 137, known locally as “Red Road” which were bulldozed and graded again several months after the eruption subsided, reestablishing access to the cut-off Pohoiki Road, Isaac Hale Beach Park, and the newly formed Pohoiki Beach. To this day, the only access to these spots is via Highway 137 running right past the park, making it a great pit stop for hikers headed out to a beach day at Isaac Hale.

Hiking trails branch out from the park’s entrance heading in both directions along the cliffside, making for a roughly two-mile roundtrip trek on their longest route. The footpaths are soft and spongey underfoot from the carpet of ironwood needles perennially falling from the trees high above. The dry golden brown needles build up in immense mounds along the trail, covering the forest floor and choking out all other plant life attempting to sprout. The muffled crunching of footsteps is drowned out by the mingling tunes of the forest’s resident songbirds, whose sometimes shrill calls can be heard echoing through the trees on sunny days.

MacKenzie’s parking lot is found at the center of the park, which means hikers will have to backtrack a bit in order to complete both the shorter eastern portion and the longer western portion of its continuous coastal trail. The easiest-to-find lava tubes are located along the western portion roughly a quarter-mile from the trailhead, near the ruins of the ancient temple getting thoroughly swallowed by jungle. 

Trekkers will pass by a mortared lava rock pavilion of picnic tables near the entrance gate, with a handsomely crafted cinder block and tar-shingle-roof building at the far side of the parking lot housing the dry-toilet restrooms. Potable water isn’t available at the park, so be sure to bring all needed supplies for a moderately strenuous hike that can get hot and very humid during summer months. Much of the park’s cliffside trails are remnants of the ancient King’s Highway – a broad footpath dating back to the days of old time Hawaii which circled the entire island and was the primary means of moving goods and people.

The still-green needles clinging to the ironwoods’ furry-looking branches sway in the cool, interminable onshore breeze and make a distinctive “whoosh-ing” sound, which can only be accurately described as the low rumble of a far-off freeway. It’s a constant, somehow soothing rustling that ebbs and flows with the intensity of the wind, building to the point that it drowns out all the other typical forest sounds only to recede once again into the soundscape’s background. In some parts of the world, this peculiar trait has earned the tree the moniker “whistling pine”, although it is in-fact a type of oak. 

A Dangerous Beauty And A Curious, Sometimes-Spooky History

Beyond the cliffside, powerful white-tipped waves can be seen roiling the ocean below and crashing against the rocky bluffs in magnificent, earth-shaking explosions of white sea spray. The salty mist hangs over the park’s flanks, slowly dissipating and drifting uphill as it filters through the trees. It often gets caught in the bundles of ironwood needles and forms droplets, which catch errant sunbeams breaking through the canopy and making the whole surrounding forest sparkle as if imbued with diamonds.

These waves and their cascading walls of water can grow to be so big that they breach the top of the cliff, and have been known to blast away rocks and trees, sweeping them back over the edge as the water recedes again. This makes the cliffside areas at MacKenzie Park notoriously dangerous, as evidenced by the abundance of warning signs found scattered all along park’s ocean boundary cautioning visitors to keep a safe distance away from the cliffs. In the past there have been instances of hapless tourists and unlucky fishermen being swept away by this force and drowning – a fact that should be kept in mind by visitors, in addition to the park’s general isolation and lack of cell phone reception. 

In addition to the very real danger of being swept out to sea, the otherwise tranquil and welcoming vibe of MacKenzie Park is also tempered by its at-times sordid history. The park was built by convicts working on the plantations of Oahu, who were shipped to eastern Big Island in the late 1850s to clear away jungle and work at removing the endless piles of lava rocks to make the terrain navigable. This arduous work out in the tropical heat – with few amenities at all for the workers – led to several deaths during construction, and it’s likely that the bodies of the deceased laborers were buried in unmarked graves within the park. Albert J. MacKenzie was the park’s namesake – a Forest Ranger and the man responsible for planting most of the ironwood saplings that have grown up into the sprawling forest of whistling trees found there today.

Some locals also claim that “nightmarchers”, referring to the ghosts of ancient Hawaiian warriors, are known to roam stretches of the King’s Highway trail at night, preceded by a thick fog, the far-off glow of torches and the jangling of the weapons and armor they carry. Several compelling ghost stories can be found online recounting sightings of nightmarchers from the park’s modern era.

How To Get There

Getting to MacKenzie Park is a bit more difficult these days owing to the 2018 Lower Puna Eruption. Access to the park via Highway 137 north, otherwise known as Red Road, was cut off during the lava flow, creating a dead-end beyond Isaac Hale Beach Park and Pohoiki Road. So, today the only way to get there is via Highway 137 south, from the tiny fishing village of Opihikao with its landmark church.

To get to Opihikao from the main lower Puna District town of Pahoa, take Highway 130 and follow signs for the village of Kalapana. A few miles past Pahoa, a left-hand turn will appear for Kamaili Road. This is a steep and winding route snaking down the hill towards the coast, which narrows into a one-way for a section near the bottom, passing by livestock pasture, homestead farms and plots of towering jungle. It is a shortcut to MacKenzie Park and to Isaac Hale Beach Park beyond it, but can be a bit precarious and demands alert and cautious driving, especially in the rain.

Staying straight at the turn for Kamaili Road takes park-goers on a longer but easier route to the end of Highway 130, past the Star of the Sea Painted Church. A left-turn lane at the bottom of the hill leads to a fork in the road – right onto Highway 137 for Uncle Robert’s Awa Bar and Farmers’ Market, and left for a roughly 8-mile drive up the highway to MacKenzie Park. This longer option passes by Kehena Black Sand Beach and the small neighborhood of Seaview Estates before reaching Opihikao.

This entire stretch of Highway 137 is devoid of places to pick up hiking snacks and drinks, except for the small grocery store called Kaimu Corner located in the village of Kalapana across the parking lot from Uncle Robert’s Market. The prices here can be a bit of a shocker, though, so budget-minded travelers are wise to pick up supplies in Pahoa at its natural food store, Seven-Eleven or at the brand new Puna Kai Shopping Center with its anchor supermarket Malama Market.

Before the 2018 Lower Puna Eruption, the beach park was a popular yet isolated stretch of rainswept, rocky East Hawaii coastline that boasted the only surf breaks and County-maintained boat ramp for many miles in either direction, both found at the adjacent, picturesque Pohoiki Bay. This made Isaac Hale park a multipurpose catch-all haunt for a large community of ocean-going locals living in the area, from fishermen to tour boat operators, swimmers, snorkelers, surfers, boogie boarders and paddlers. The bay’s beauty was known throughout the islands; there were even ukulele songs, watercolor paintings and professional panoramic photos celebrating its crystal blue waters, shoreline of coconut groves and thick jungles of mangrove-like “lau hala” trees.

Camping was highly popular here back in the day, and it was common to see groupings of brightly colored tents scattered around the park’s extensive lawns on sunny weekend afternoons, many erected in the shade of small stubby trees and occupied by surfers taking siestas between their morning and afternoon sets. Then there were the dog walkers, cyclists, food trucks and joggers, along with occasional gaggles of school kids from the charter school up the road, who would often walk down to catch a few waves on their boogie boards during lunch breaks. There was a handsomely built public bathroom with modern amenities, and several stands of cold-water showers used frequently by surfers, swimmers and snorkelers.

All of this changed in 2018, when massive volcanic fissures began to crop up in the neighborhood of Leilani Estates, and then compounded and expanded for several nerve-wracking weeks before sending a river of molten rock cascading downhill toward the sleepy seaside town of Kapoho. Hundreds of homes were destroyed, miles of highway and countless driveways and side roads were covered, and thousands of Lower Puna residents were forced to evacuate, including many who surfed, fished and swam regularly at Isaac Hale Beach Park. 

The lava river met the ocean in Kapoho, exploding into trillions of tiny particles of brittle, glass-like rock and filling in entire bays and sections of rocky coastline with black sand. The flow worked its way south down the coast, destroying historic and well-loved snorkeling grounds and a county park featuring a large geothermal-heated pool known locally as “warm ponds”. The charter school was inundated, too, and for a time seemingly everyone in Lower Puna thought Isaac Hale park and Pohoiki Bay would see the same fate.

But by some miracle, the lava flow’s insidious creep stopped after covering only a minor section of the park, largely sparing its day-use grounds, parking lots and ocean access. However, the forging of so much new black sand nearly filled in Pohoiki Bay, creating a crescent-shaped coastline of large lava cinders mixed with patches of finely pulverized black sand that locals for the past several years have simply called “Pohoiki Beach”. The boat ramp now leads to a pool of brackish, algae-rich water completely cut off from the rest of the remaining bay by a massive berm of lava gravel.

As for the day-use and camping areas, the mindbogglingly destructive flow took out the park’s municipal water line rendering the showers stands and bathroom building inoperable. Besides portable toilets, there are few amenities at Isaac Hale Beach Park these days, and visitors should take this into account and make sure to bring all needed supplies.

A Dramatically Changed Landscape and An Enduring Beauty

Even with so much loss, though, the park is still a wonderful spot to experience; the same cool, salty onshore breeze blows across its spared land, the circular parking lot of towering, shady trees is still populated by friendly locals selling coconuts and stringing up fishing rods, and there’s still a crowd of people lounging on beach blankets and folding chairs at the water’s edge watching the waves roll in. In the day-use area, the lawns and trees are still well-manicured, with inviting swaths of mowed green grass connected by surviving lengths of wide concrete walkway that lead to picnic tables and barbecue pits.

This makes for possibly one of the most peculiar environments at the park: enjoying a delectable barbecue lunch spread out on a picnic table that’s about as close as it could physically be to the edge of an unforgiving-looking lavafield that stretches for miles out to meet the horizon. The scale of the endless sea of jagged rocks compared to how little more distance it would’ve had to travel to destroy the park in its entirety is dizzying. Just a few hundred feet down the road from the string of picnic areas is another classic Big Island volcano photo op: a two-lane striped asphalt road running straight into the lavafield, with the somewhat obvious “No Trespassing” sign posted at its dead-end.

A long line of hazard-yellow vehicle barricades denotes the border between the beach park’s main gravel parking lot and day-use area. Beyond this there are several stands of well-trimmed coconut palms, along with a hedgerow of broad-leafed ornamental trees leading to the closed bathroom facility. Past the trees are the several acres of maintained lawn punctuated with picnic areas, some of which are backed right up against the lava wall. 

Although it might seem tempting to leave the grassy area and climb around on the crunching gravel mounds, don’t do it! Lavafields like this are notoriously unstable and dangerous, with brittle, razor-sharp rocks that can lacerate feet, knees, hands and elbows. Keeping a solid footing while walking on this type of lava is nearly impossible, and these flow fields are rife with lava tubes and sinkholes, sometimes with undersurface voids known as “pukas” large enough to swallow up a whole human. So, even though it’s easy to get intimately close to this new, raw and rugged landscape at Isaac Hale Beach Park, experience it from a safe distance and stay off the lava!

How To Get There:

Prior to the 2018 eruption, reaching Isaac Hale Beach Park was very straightforward and simple, accessible from basically all directions. Since the flow took out large sections of Pohoiki Road and the northern stretches of Highway 137 (also known as Kalapana-Kapoho Road or colloquially “Red Road”), accessing the park is only possible these days via the southern portion of Highway 137 coming from the very small fishing village of Opihikao. This route takes visitors from Opihikao – which is easy to miss completely except for its Congregational Church – past MacKenzie State Recreation Area known locally as MacKenzie Park, and past the Malama Ki Forest Reserve. Drivers will climb up the flanks of three small sections of temporary road – places where lava crossed the highway and have since been bulldozed, graded and marked with safety cones. 

After crossing the three gravel patches, the road will return to asphalt for a few hundred feet more, before coming to a four-way stop. Turn right here, past the hand-carved wooden sign for Isaac Hale Beach Park, and either park in the large gravel parking lot adjacent to the day-use area, or continue until the road dead-ends at the beachfront loop.

To access Highway 137, take Highway 130 in the town of Pahoa (located roughly eleven miles south of Hilo), and follow the signs for Kalapana. A few miles past Pahoa will be a left-hand turn for Kamaili Road, which is a steep, winding and occasionally one-way paved route down to the coast through horse pastures, homestead farms and thick jungle. This is a shortcut to Isaac Hale Beach Park, but can be a bit precarious and demands cautious, concentrated driving. Staying straight at the turn for Kamaili Road will take drivers on a longer but much easier route to the end of Highway 130, past the historic Star Of The Sea Painted Church, with a left turn lane shortly after leading to the village of Kaimu and its world-famous Uncle Robert’s Awa Bar and Farmers’ Market.

Turning right at this next intersection leads to Uncle Robert’s, while heading left will take drivers on a roughly 10 mile serene coastal drive north to the beach park, passing Kehena Black Sand Beach on the right, and then the neighborhood of Seaview Estates soon after on the left. Keep heading up Highway 137 for a few miles past Seaview Estates and you’ll spot the church of Opihikao.

Kaimu Corner in Kalapana, right next to Uncle Robert’s bar and market, is the closest spot to pick up beach snacks and barbecue items when visiting Isaac Hale Beach Park and Pohoiki Beach. The prices here can be a bit of a shocker for visitors, though, so for budget-minded travelers, pick up supplies at the brand new Puna Kai Shopping Center located in Pahoa, with its anchor supermarket Malama Market.

The expansive coastline of rough, smooth black lava pebbles appears almost perfectly straight while standing at the shore, with the low-rise commercial buildings of the city’s downtown flanking the beach on one end, while the brackish waters of where Waiakea Pond meets Hilo Bay form the other boundary. To its south is Kamehameha Avenue – named after the legendary Hawaiian warrior-king who was the first to unite the island chain under one rule – which connects two of Big Island’s main highways; Highway 11 and Highway 19. This casts the beaches of Hilo Bayfront Park essentially in the center of town, and makes them hard to miss for anyone driving from one end of town to the other along the picturesque coast.

The beach park is a more than half-mile-long thin sliver of gently sloping land criss-crossed with concrete walking paths, groves of dizzyingly tall coconut palms and well-manicured ornamental shrubs, and seemingly endless racks of hand-paddled watercraft of every imaginable variety. There are traditional Hawaiian outrigger canoes; sleek hulls of raw wood complete with lacquered tree branches used as supports lashed down with white nylon rope, as well as more modern fiberglass rowing skiffs in an assortment of neon colors. Many are stored in simply built shelters set in a line roughly 100 feet up from the beach, while others are haphazardly scattered along the beach without cover, turned over to deflect rain and stacked atop chunks of beach wood. The Hawaiian names of the vessels are often painted in large white text just above their waterlines: “Moku Ola”, “Hemolele”, “Malanai”, and “Makai Aloha” to name just a few.

Most of the shelters are slapped with hand-painted wooden signs reading “Puna Canoe Club”, “Kamehameha Canoe Club”, “Hilo Paddlers Club” among others, put up by their respective sponsoring organization. “Paddling clubs” are a highly popular pastime on Big Island, and are a natural fit for Hilo Bay considering its several-mile-long breakwater which arcs out into the open ocean tempering the strength of incoming waves and making for a large open area of calm inshore water. For many native Hawaiians, engaging in these water sport past-times help them maintain a connection to the past and keep their millennia-old culture alive. Due to their popularity, paddling sports have supplanted many mainland typical U.S. past-times like baseball, football, basketball and hockey, evident in the fact that the state has no professional sports teams.

So, a visit to the park is a great place to get acquainted with arguably the most popular sport in Hawaii, and to get an up-close look at a truly remarkable variety of watercraft, often while they are in-use. Some are small, light and compact, seemingly built for solo paddles along the waters of Hilo Bay. Others, though, are giant boat-looking crafts with stations for a half-dozen paddlers that look like they must need to be carried across the beach overhead by teams of burly water men and women. This is perhaps the group that Hilo Bayfront Park is most popular with: paddlers, and the park’s flat, even shoreline and typically calm waters of Hilo Bay beyond it – along with a hard-to-beat location at the center of the city hustle and bustle – make it arguably the best spot for paddling on the entire island.

Canoeing, Kayaking, Surfing and Stand-Up Paddleboarding In The Heart Of Hilo Town

The park’s popularity is shared among stand-up paddle boarders as well, who are a relatively new sight on the island but still can be seen on most days plying the bay’s shallow waters and dodging the path of the occasional charging canoe. For visitors to Big Island who are new to the sport, Hilo Bay is a terrific place to learn: board rentals are affordable and plentiful in town, the expansive calm waters are rarely crowded, and depending on the time of year paddlers can take advantage of days-long stretches of cool, reliably sunny weather.

The park is not so great, however, for swimming and snorkeling, since from the beginning of the 20^th Century over-tourism and nearby industrial activity has badly eroded the coastline, with oftentimes murky water along its beaches that can become quite cold from mixing with the runoff of several nearby streams. This is unfortunate considering that, back in the old days, Hilo Bayfront beaches were considered some of the finest swimming spots on the island. Still, today some local Hilo snorkeling enthusiasts claim that there are patches of suitable snorkeling ground several hundred feet offshore that are worth the effort to see.

For those opting to remain on dry land, the park is a great spot for long, easy beach walks across the flat shore of uniformly coarse black sand. Its snaking concrete walking trail and adjacent green lawns set just up from the beach are also popular with picnickers, dog-walkers, joggers and cyclists, who can often be seen cruising along the thoroughfare on breezy Hilo afternoons in between the city’s frequent rain showers. Several picnic benches are strewn on either side of the footpath, often situated in patches of shade cast by the resident towering coconut palms. And visitors can rest easy: these trees are trimmed obsessively by city parks workers, so despite its impressive array of tall palms, “falling coconut” danger at the park is almost nonexistent.

Hilo Bayfront Park connects downtown Hilo with the popular tourist destinations located along Waiakea Peninsula, from its world-famous and history-rich boulevard of towering trees known as Banyan Drive, to the idyllic groves and stretching footbridge of Coconut Island, to the beautifully lush and colorful Liliuokalani Gardens. The park serves as the conduit for cyclists and walking tours making their way from the overloaded tables of delectable tropical fruit offered up daily at Hilo Farmers’ Market along the waterfront to see the sights on the other end of town. So, it’s a great halfway point for walkers and bikers, who can manage to find a vacant picnic table in the shade, enjoy their tropical bounties of fruit and fish, and look out over a bay of glimmering, placid water as a warm, humid breeze stirs up the palm fronds.

Other amenities at the park include multiple restroom and public shower facilities, as well as a large and easy to access parking lot that always seems to be mostly deserted. It’s important to keep in mind, though, that there is no lifeguard tower at Hilo Bayfront Park – most likely because swimming is so unpopular here – so visitors should get in the water at their own risk and keep an eye out for unsafe ocean conditions, which are infrequent yet not unheard of in Hilo Bay. Also important to note: the park is more of a local hangout than a tourist hotspot, so remember to be respectful of the locals while exploring and taking pictures, and make sure any trash created makes it into a bin. Nothing draws the ire of Hawaiians more than visitors who do not “malama aina” (respect the land).

How To Get There:

Hilo Bayfront Park is located along Kamehameha Avenue just three miles from Hilo International Airport and less than one mile from the city’s main downtown commercial strip. From Kamehameha Avenue, there are a handful of entrances to Bayfront Highway, from which the beach park’s sprawling parking lot can be accessed. Some of the narrow side-roads running along the parking lots are technically one-way, so it can be a little tricky navigating once you’ve turned off the main road. Keep an eye out for a heavily eroded hand-carved wooden sign with the park’s name emblazoned on it.

Restroom and shower facilities are located adjacent to the lot, while the primitive shelters housing the wide variety of canoes and other watercraft both ancient and modern are set slightly farther back from the road, along dirt footpaths leading down to the water’s edge. The park’s beaches are some of the only shore spots on the island with significant amounts of driftwood, which can be tossed around and spread out during high tides and heavy storms. So it’s best to bring a pair of sturdy shoes if planning to embark on a beach walk, and setting out on a cloudy winter day with a strong onshore breeze could call for a windbreaker to stay warm.

An afternoon spent exploring the park is sure to work up an appetite, and thankfully there are some exceptional restaurant options right down the road, including Hilo Bay Cafe, Ken’s House of Pancakes, Verna’s Drive-In, Ponds Hilo and the legendary Suisan Fish Market – arguably the best place for traditional Hawaiian plate lunch featuring the iconic staple poke (diced, seasoned raw local fish).

Repeat this process for years – centuries even – and enough sand will accumulate to fill in entire bays, blanketing the formerly rugged, rocky coastline with finely ground, freshly forged jet-black sand. These are East Hawaii’s legendary black sand beaches, which go in tandem with many other volcanic curiosities in the area: Kilauea Volcano’s interminably smoking Halemaumau Crater, Kaumana Lava Tube Caves found in the hills above Hilo, stretches of steaming, still-hot highway from the 2018 Lower Puna Eruption – even Papakolea Green Sand Beach, with its own uniquely colored sand and geological backstory.

Perhaps the greatest example of these beaches unique to East Hawaii is Punalu’u Black Sand Beach. It’s an isolated, windswept waterfront park full of raw beauty and amazing ocean vistas located roughly 10 miles past the small coffee-growing town of Na’alehu along the island’s southern coastal highway. There’s a crescent-shaped bay of black sand and deep blue water punctuated in places by outcroppings of porous lava rock, and just up from the shore is a forest of towering coconut palms stretching the entire length of the beach.

This is a great spot for sunbathing, picnicking, swimming and snorkeling, and on a calm day the ocean waves are little more than murmurs as they gently lap at the patches of sand and banks of stones revealed by the dropping tide. Visibility underwater drops off significantly at Punalu’u Beach as the ocean gets choppier, so snorkelers have their best luck on days when the bay is calmest. A variety of Hawaiian sea life has established themselves on the once-desolate nearshore rocky bottom, and groups of snorkelers can often be spotted plying the bay on cloudless days when the penetrating sunlight illuminates the nooks and crannies of the black rocks best. 

Entering the bay is easiest from its northeastern end due to there being fewer large rocks at water’s edge to scramble over. At high tide many of these rocky sections are submerged, creating an impressive and almost uninterrupted half-moon of inviting-looking sand that’s a perfect spot to take a nap on a beach blanket in between snorkeling sets. After awhile, first-time visitors will notice a twinkling in the corner of their eye; this is the wet black sand catching the sunlight – something white sand can hardly claim to do so strikingly – causing the beach to sparkle in a similar way to the crystal blue ocean water itself.

In Hawaiian, “Punalu’u” (pooh-nah-loo-oo) means “spring water dived for”, named after the array of freshwater springs feeding into the bay. The freshwater is colder than the seawater, but is also much less dense, causing it to nonetheless float on top and impart swimmers with the strange sensation that they are submerged in cold and warm water at the same time. As the old legends go, in times of drought the ancient Hawaiians living around the bay would free-dive below the surface, locate the springs and fill gourd vessels with fresh water before bringing them up to the surface.

Slippery Rocks and Strong Currents – Tips For Staying Safe At Punalu’u Beach

Punalu’u is very isolated; it’s more than an hour’s drive away from both of Big Island’s main cities, Kona and Hilo. And although there is a lifeguard on duty during the beach park’s open hours, it’s important for visitors to still keep safety in mind and consider some basic guidelines for avoiding some of the hazards present in such a rough, rugged and out-of-the-way place.

Many visitors opt to wear water shoes at Punalu’u; locals would likely say that foot protection isn’t necessary at the majority of Big Island’s well-frequented beaches, but would be in agreement that at this particular spot it is a good idea. Walking over slippery, uneven lava rocks in order to get in the water can range from uncomfortable to downright dangerous, so find the sandiest looking spot and don’t be shy about wearing those booties. 

Some swimmers opt to take advantage of the small boat ramp on the left side of the beach, which does make for a slightly more sure-footed entry than the beach itself. However, the ramp does face the open ocean and strong currents are often present here just offshore, so those choosing to use the ramp should be acutely aware of ocean conditions before getting in at this spot.

On high surf days, even locals recognize that Punalu’u can be dangerous and tend to stay out of the water and just enjoy the beach and coconut forest. There’s even a freshwater pond full of waterlilies located up from the beach that makes for a great recreation spot on days when the ocean is churning like a washing machine.

Turtles, Hawks, Seals, Dolphins and Whales

A striking variety of endangered Hawaiian marine species call the bay home – some for just part of the year – including the hawksbill turtle, green sea turtle, Hawaiian monk seal, spinner dolphin and humpback whale. Hawaiian hawks, known in the language as “’io”, can often be seen flying over the sandy shoreline or surrounding sea cliffs, going to and from the nests they build in the trees at Punalu’u. Other native birds make the journey everyday from their upland nesting grounds down to the coastline to hunt for food, flying over the beach area to the delight of day-tripping birdwatchers.

Some of these species are exceedingly rare; the hawksbill turtle, for example, is a federally listed endangered species, and marine biologists suggest that it is the rarest sea turtle in the entire Pacific Ocean. Some research has estimated that there are fewer than 100 of the turtles left in the Hawaiian Islands. The green turtle is also a threatened species, and one of the most easily spotted at the beach. They haul themselves up onto the rocky coastline at Punalu’u to rest in the warm sunshine when they aren’t plying the shallow waters below looking for seaweed to munch on.

State and federal laws require visitors to stay at least 20 feet away from sunbathing turtles (and sometimes more for other protected species), even though the turtles don’t seem to mind the presence of beach-goers and are not very easily spooked. 

How To Get There:

Punalu’u Black Sand Beach is easily accessed via Highway 11, otherwise known as Hawaii Belt Road or Mamalahoa Highway. It’s roughly 30 miles south of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, and about 10 miles north of the small coffee-growing town of Na’alehu (nah-ah-lay-hoo). From the highway, close to mile marker 55, turn onto Punalu’u Road or Ninole Loop Road. Both of these wind down to the coast and eventually intersect at the beach park’s parking lot roughly one mile after branching off from the highway. Ninole Loop Road is a more direct access to the campsites at the south end of the bay, as well as to the local 3-star hotel known as Sea Mountain found just up the road from the beach. Besides the hotel, there are very few lodging choices in the area, making Punalu’u Beach a day trip from Volcano or South Kona for most Big Island visitors. 

There’s a large wooden sign denoting the park, along with a complex of picnic pavilions, restroom and shower facilities, ample parking spots, lifeguard tower and campsites available by reservation. However pets, open fires and removing sand, rocks or plants from the area is prohibited. The park is very isolated, so be sure to stop off in a larger town along the way like Captain Cook, Ocean View or Volcano to pick up snacks, drinks, beach supplies and maybe even some picnic staples. For those heading to Punalu’u Black Sand Beach with a hankering for something sweet, the beach’s namesake – Punalu’u Bake Shop – is located in the town of Na’alehu just a few miles away, and offers up freshly baked pastries, sweet breads, homemade ice cream, locally grown coffee, Hawaiian plate lunches and much more.

Weather at the park can be unpredictable, and its bright green, leafy landscape suggests it sees more than its fair share of rainy days throughout the year. Also, the bay faces the open ocean and sometimes the onshore breeze can be quite powerful – enough to make some visitors chilly on cloudy days, especially in the wintertime. So, check the forecast before starting off and choose a beach day with promising conditions, and be sure to remember to bring sun protection, rain gear and good shoes for walking across lava rocks.

Also on that list of curiosities is Lava Tree State Park, formally known as Lava Tree State Monument; 17-acres of rocky fields, massive outcrops of weathered black lava rock, and towering walls of jungle outside the small town of Pahoa that feature some of the strangest geological sights to be seen on the island: lava trees. Centuries ago, a cascading lava flow swept through this forested part of Big Island’s lower Puna District, surrounding tree trunks and encasing them in molten rock.

The lava was unimaginably hot – upwards of 2000 degrees Fahrenheit – and it contacted the cool, wet trees, creating pockets of moisture trapped between bark and cooling lava that helped insulate the trunk and prevent its instant incineration. This insulation was so effective that even today, visitors can see the perfect imprint the tree bark left in the rock itself.

Still more lava filled the land, reaching a height of roughly 11 feet, before another fissure opened and all the still-liquid lava drained back into the earth. What had contacted the trees had already cooled and hardened by this point, leaving the ghostly molds intact.

Over the years, what remained of the trees has rotted away, leaving the structures visibly hollow in the center. To volcanologists these are informally known as “lava molds” – the remaining rock impression of the long-since-dead trees. They are scattered throughout the park’s main area, accessible via a curving concrete walkway which forms a complete 0.7-mile loop around the park and delves into dense forests of native ohia trees and highly invasive strawberry guava.

The true age of the lava monuments are clear to see: thick layers of bright green and gold moss blanket the structures, clinging to holes in the porous rock and giving the appearance of fuzzy towers. Some are straight and tall – well over head-height and tapering to a cone at the top. Others are short, stubby and broken, with small mounds of cast-off, weathered stones lying beside them. The lava trees located nearest to the park’s entrance are its prime specimens, while the monuments in the farther-out forested section are dilapidated and crumbling in many places. 

Even so, opting to venture father along the footpath reveals other curious sights not found in the park’s main area, like a young ohia tree with its striking red puffball flowers growing out of the hollow center of an old, broken lava tree. It turns out that as the black lava rock weathers, it breaks down into patches of fertile soil ideal for wind-blown seeds to land in and sprout. The variety of plant life making their homes in the hollow mounds of cracked rock is astounding: forest ferns, field grasses, moss, lichens, creeping vines, broad-leafed shrubs and even bona fide tree saplings grow out of the lava cracks, in some places threatening to cover the formations completely in a thick carpet of green.

Also in the forested section of the park are a handful of simple shelters built with handsomely hewn poles, with metal roofs and mortared lava rock entryways. These are for hikers who get caught out in the far reaches of the park during one of East Hawaii’s frequent torrential rainstorms and need a temporary shelter to duck into. There is a much larger shelter area nearest to Lava Tree State Park’s parking lot which has several picnic benches and a wide assortment of reader boards nearby explaining the history of the lava trees and much of the surrounding ecology.

Much of the grounds are well-manicured, with overgrown stands of colorful tropical flowering plants punctuating the footpath and vividly contrasting against the wall of dark green jungle. There are a few plantings of ornamental ginger found throughout the park, and the rich, dark hue of the red variety stands out most strikingly. For plant enthusiasts, it’s a great place to catch a glimpse of what a typical lower Puna forest looks like in modern times, with plenty of native plants and trees like ohias and ferns, but with an unfortunate helping of invasive species like strawberry guava and the large, star-leafed tree known as cecropia.

Bottomless Cracks in the Earth, and A Close Call

Next to the parking lot is a massive crack in the ground with a chain-link fence and guardrail preventing haphazard visitors from falling in. On a sunny afternoon, beams of light will illuminate the walls of the fissure, but can never pierce far enough to reach the bottom. This is just one of the stops on the circuit, and another testament to just how volcanically active this area of the island truly is. Then there’s the warning signs scattered throughout the park cautioning visitors about the hazards of noxious volcanic gasses, lava tube sinkholes and uneven terrain.

All of the stunning beauty of the park – from its lava trees to its impressive chunk of forest reserve to its resident bottomless pit – came very close being destroyed during the 2018 lava flow, clearly seen today in the very short walk that it takes to get from the park entrance to the edge of the new lavafield. The deep red tidal wave of molten rock bypassed Lava Tree Park that fateful summer, and instead steamrolled down the hill destroying hundreds of homes, engulfing thousands of acres of land and creating miles of new, desolate, inaccessible coastline. Thousands of Lower Puna residents had to evacuate their homes, and even several years later some houses are still standing but cutoff due to road loss.

But even in the face of all this destruction, somehow the monuments were spared, and after being closed for a time due to 20-foot-high lava walls blocking the highway, Lava Tree Park was reopened amidst a renewed interest in volcanism among visitors to the island and locals alike. This interest is helped along by the several stands of educational reader boards found in the park, with colorful illustrations of its geological and botanical history, along with a simple map of the forested footpath loop. Those who make the trek to Lower Puna to see the lava trees will breathe a sigh of relief knowing these 300-year-old testaments to the rich volcanic history of East Hawaii are still standing. And the realization that less than a mile down the road from the park is Big Island’s newest lavafield will really put things into perspective for the novice volcano-tourist.

How To Get There:

From the town of Pahoa located roughly 20 miles south of Hilo, continue along Highway 132 passing the entrance to the neighborhood of Nanawale Estates on the left-hand side of the road. Less than three miles south of Pahoa, a wooden sign will appear for Lava Tree State Park on the left and lead through a bright yellow-painted gate down to the parking lot.

The sections of Highway 132 destroyed during the 2018 eruption have since been rebuilt, and the highway is open leading to the former small town of Kapoho. So, it is possible to access the park coming from the other direction as well, where visitors will climb the hill from the ocean and pass through miles of new lavafield laid during 2018, and then will find the entrance to the park on the right-hand side of the road immediately after the entrance to Puna Geothermal Venture on the left.

Restrooms are available adjacent to the parking lot, but potable water is not. So, stock up on supplies for a picnic or a short bit of hiking at the newly built Malama Market supermarket in Pahoa’s Puna Kai Shopping Center, or at the locally renown natural food store in town known as Island Naturals or simply, “the natch”. The park gate is open daily from 7:00am to 6:45pm and entrance to the park is free. Entrance is restricted to daylight hours since there are no lights on the path, and activities like camping and mountain biking are prohibited. 

Although the concrete footpath looping around the park is largely well-maintained, there are a few places where tree roots have dislodged the pavement to a dangerous degree, so small children, elderly visitors and people with physical disabilities may need assistance to complete the loop. So, wear a good pair of hiking shoes, bring sun protection and some lightweight rain gear, stay on the path and be prepared for a few uneven and slippery spots if you’re keen on taking the hike. 

The gardens comprise a portion of the 24-acre county park jutting out into Hilo Bay, which seems to have a little something for everyone; placid fishponds where colorful tropical fish dart in and out of the murky depths, a series of brightly painted pagodas and ornate, curved stone bridges, innumerable plantings of vividly colored and strange-looking tropical shrubs, and a spiderweb of concrete footpaths connecting it all.

Stands of ironwood trees, coconut palms and Cook Pines border the ponds and face the ocean, creating a windbreak that tempers the gentle breeze of warm, wet air coming off the ocean. Inland there are even more trees planted, including a few massive Banyan trees with their mind-bogglingly complex array of aerial roots and twisted, writhing trunks. Then there’s the stands of bamboo with their spindly poles shooting up to the sky, whose leaves rustle and sway with the sea breeze. There are curious-looking varieties of palms, ornamental gingers, ferns, perfume-scented flowering shrubs and floating pond plants browsed by the park’s local gaggle of marauding ducks.

All of this shade puts Liliuokalani Gardens at the top of the list of ideal recreation spots in Hilo, with throngs of joggers, dog-walkers, cyclists and picnickers flocking everyday to the finely-mowed fields separated by tropical hedges. They avail themselves of the many benches that seem to be liberally strewn across the park, along with the groupings of picnic tables and two or three rain shelters put there for the inevitable sudden East Hawaii downpour.

On the sometimes-rare hot, sunny Hilo afternoon, sunbathers will set up on the gently sloping green, joggers will cool down on shaded benches and college kids will chase after frisbees in the open fields between the hedges. The intricate craftsmanship of a covered stone bridge – its handsome woodwork painted a bright orange – contrasts against the backdrop of swaying green branches and the dull grey of brackish pondwater.

If it’s a weekend or holiday, the benches inside the seaside pagodas will usually be occupied, since Liliuokalani Gardens is arguably the most popular park of its kind. But on an off-day, or after a rainy morning turns into a sunny afternoon, visitors can get lucky to have a pagoda all to themselves. It’s from this vantage point – sitting on a narrow outcrop of land above a reflecting pool of murky water – that visitors can get the best view of the park in its entirety, with swaying trees, jumping fish, rows of gently bending bamboo, scatterings of statues and rolling lawns all managing to be in the same frame. 

At sunset on a cloudless day, the cliffs of Big Island’s Hamakua Coast can be seen far off in the distance, standing out against the perfectly straight line of where blue ocean meets a changing red sky. Dusk seems to cast everything in the park in a warm golden glow, making sunset the ideal time to experience its full beauty. It’s not uncommon to see the arc of metal benches at the edge of the park facing out into the bay completely occupied around this time of day, full of spectators with cameras hoping to see the mountain, the coastal cliffs, the rolling waves and the line of colorful Bayfront shops at once while the sun sets behind it all.

Beside the ponds, fishermen and women, with their brightly colored parasols and lounge chairs set up shop, sporting rods, nets and sun hats, who seem to spend most of the day lounging and never appear to catch anything. But the fish are there, evidenced by the occasional “kerplunk” of a tail fin slapping the water with its ensuing ripple bounding across the glassy surface. With a closer look, it becomes obvious that tiny, brightly colored fish are making their rounds in the murky pools, especially when streaks of sunlight suddenly break through the clouds and shiny scaled becomes illuminated.

The park is also home to century-old Japanese gardens built in the “Edo” style. Many say that Liliuokalani boasts the largest such Edo-style Japanese garden found  anywhere outside of Japan, which says a lot about the size and historical legacy of Hilo’s legendary Japanese-American and Japanese-Hawaiian populations, who to this day remain highly represented in the city’s business and cultural communities.

So, it should come as no surprise that within the park can be found several “torii”, the iconic traditional Japanese overhead gate usually located at the entrance to Shinto shrines, which has become an instantly recognized symbol of Japan in the west. These are primarily found along the park’s borders, where its internal web of concrete paths meet the looping perimeter walkway. Walking underneath these to enter the gardens elicits a strange sensation in the visitor – a sort of perplexed feeling of not knowing exactly which continent they’re on anymore. 

A Rich – Sometimes Tragic — Past, and A Hilo Hub Today

Liliuokalani Park and Gardens is a serene and peaceful bayside green space, named after Hawaii’s last reigning monarch, Queen Liliuokalani, who died in 1917 – the year it was founded in her honor. Through its design, it was also built as a tribute to the first Japanese immigrants who came to the islands to work in the sugarcane fields of the burgeoning sugar industry.

It has survived a lot: a handful of devastating tsunamis in the mid-to-late 20^th century, beginning in 1946 when the 8.6-magnitude Aleutian Islands Earthquake sent a wall of water lurching across the Pacific Ocean, hitting Hilo approximately five hours later and washing away streets, homes and stores. In all, 173 Hilo residents died that day, with as many injured and almost 500 buildings destroyed with another 1,000 damaged.

But today, thanks to an early warning system and the 2-mile-long Hilo Breakwater of stacked boulders arcing out into Hilo Bay, few residents are concerned about tsunami danger. Still, the county government has opted to leave much of the low lying areas around Waiakea Peninsula as green space, partially to reduce the destruction if another massive tsunami hit Hilo. This is why there are so many recreational areas surrounding Liliuokalani Gardens, including Reeds Bay Park, Reeds Bay Beach Park, Coconut Island, Naniloa Golf Course and Banyan Drive.

There are still some shops and hotels in the area, though. In fact, Banyan Drive boasts the most luxurious (and most expensive) hotels Hilo has to offer, including the Grand Naniloa Hotel Hilo and the Hilo Hawaiian Hotel. Then there’s Suisan, a world-famous fish market right across the street from Liliuokalani Gardens which serves up arguably the best poke plate lunch in town, and offers an up-close look at many different types of whole tropical fish for sale. Hilo Bay Cafe is up the street from Suisan, and offers more upscale and familiar Continental cuisine as well as a few local favorites. Both places are excellent lunch destinations after a morning of swimming, birdwatching and plant tours at the gardens right next door. Just a short walk down Banyan Drive brings garden-goers to other locally famous Hilo restaurants, including Verna’s Drive-In, Ponds Hilo, Coconut Grill and Ken’s House of Pancakes.

HOW TO GET THERE:

Liliuokalani Park and Gardens can be easily found off of the looping, tree-lined Banyan Drive. The main entrance to Banyan Drive is at the intersection of Highway 11 (locally known as “Hawaii Belt Road”) and Kamehameha Avenue. Follow the drive along the peninsula past beach parks and hotels, until Lihiwai Street appears on the right. Turn right here and follow the one-lane road that borders the bay past the park’s fishponds on the left until the road widens again and a string of shady parallel parking spots appear on the left side of the road. From here, either backtrack along the concrete footpath to the fishponds or cross through the park to see much of the botanical gardens and the handful of Japanese torii. 

Important note about footpaths adjacent to fishponds: Although the perimeter path looping around Liliuokalani Gardens is well maintained, some of the walkways in the center of the park near the fishponds are in a sad state of disrepair. The concrete slabs skirting around the ponds can be uneven in some places, flooded by rain and high tide in others, and even covered in layers of slimy, slippery moss. Add to this the fact that there are no guardrails around the ponds preventing people from accidentally falling in. The ponds are very shallow so the risk of drowning is slight; however, the bottoms are clearly very muddy and an inadvertent dive into one would surely ruin a vacation. So, exercise caution while exploring the park’s internal network of paths, especially those around the ponds, mind your footing while taking photos, and wear good shoes with ankle support.