Going with the Flow

On Sunday we picked up our granddaughter and her friend to drive to the other side of the island for a Keiki Ukulele Competition, the final event of a week-long celebration of Koloa Town Plantation Days. There seems to be some sort of festival or celebration every week on Kauai.

We thought it would be fun for the kids to watch and maybe even participate in the children's ukulele event. Our two Keiki each brought their own uke with them. Such a useful, portable instrument. Ukulele virtuoso Jake Shimabukuro calls it the "instrument of peace."

Kauai basically has one two-lane highway around the island, although it does not complete the circle due to the magnificent Na Pali coast mountains. Only a couple of miles before reaching our destination we were forced to stop. The traffic was not moving. Nobody was going anywhere, except the few who chose to make a "y-turn" and head back. There is no alternative route to Poipu where we were headed.

We opened our windows and made ourselves comfortable. Lush green overgrowth on both sides of the road hemmed us in, although a break in the flora opened up a pasture where a beautiful chestnut  horse galloped up to the fence and looked straight over at the girls. The horse seemed responsive to the kids' voices. He was frisky and the girls loved it.

The big question was, What is causing this traffic jam, as more vehicles continued to arrive and the string of cars, vans and trucks became longer behind us.

Some got out of their vehicles and walked to the front to find out the problem. No radio reports yet. One guy returned and reported an accident and subsequent investigation that would take another hour and a-half. It was nearly noon. Luckily we had packed sandwiches.

Soon people were wandering around the parked cars, many like us had food and were even sharing with others, an impromptu lunch party.

This kind of delay, or interruption, is common on the small island with few roads. And people tend to make the best of it.

I remember my Hawaiian music instructor telling me, "Mainlanders have a hard time when plans change. They need to learn how to go with the flow."

We hung for more than an hour then decided to turn around. We were going to miss the Keiki ukulele competition which would soon be over. Instead we were making up rhymes and talking story.

We turned around and found the old road back to Lihue which was like driving on the island 50 years ago. The foliage was so green and thick and tall it nearly engulfed us. "Isn't this beautiful," I kept saying.  From the backseat a small voice noted a line of red dirt going up a nearby mountain. "Can we hike that trail?"

We passed the Menehune Pond some 100 feet below us. "We can't see the Menehune because they will turn to stone," another backseat voice informed us.

Keiki's paddling out at Lydgate sea water pond.

We flowed onward with popular Lydgate Park in mind where we knew we would find a large outdoor playground Every Kauai Keiki has spent time climbing the elaborate wooden structures, crossing the bridges here.

Upon arrival I stepped out of the car, grabbed one of the kid's ukuleles from the trunk and broke into a couple of Hawaiian vamps. Sometimes I'll see an ukulele and I cannot help myself. It's part of my flow.

Five minutes on the playground and these girls were ready for the beach and a jump into the rock pond at Lydgate. There are two ponds, both protected from the roiling surf by a half-moon shape of boulders that waves splash against but rarely cross. The smaller pond is for little Keiki and the larger one attracts all ages of swimmers, snorkelers and waders.

Our girls had boogie boards and were riding tiny waves at the shore of the larger pond in a flash. Watching their smiles and total involvement in the moment was as pure and bright as the yellow sun.

There were shade trees above the beach and a cool easterly breeze drenched our warm bodies that were soon aching to dive in. Schools of luminous reef fish swam among us, evoking shouts of fun and wonder. "I saw a long blue fish!" "I saw a whole bunch of them!"

Kids see everything whether we know it or not. Their glistening bodies are in perpetual motion, human fish,  little mermaids and mermen.

Grandma and grandpa unabashedly joined the frolic unable to hold still under the alluring and refreshing conditions, going forward, finding the enigmatic flow.

On our way home we heard the radio report of the accident that had changed our plans, and the plans of many others, including a 27-year-old woman who had lost control of her SUV and crashed. She had been medevacced to the Wilcox Medial Center and then to Queens in Honolulu. There were no other injuries. Her status is unknown.

A Moment's Pause for Our Hero

Tiger and his kids, Charlie and Sam.

Let's take a moment to pause from contentious politics following this past weekend's most memorable event that had people around the world on the edge of their seats.

Consider the history, the media coverage given one person, the scandals and now the nearly complete, full redemption of arguably the most well-known man in the world.

Tiger Woods.

The name echoes across oceans. Fans and curiosity seekers far and wide flock to get a glimpse, whether they are in his presence on the golf course -- as many were the past four days on the eastern coast of Scotland -- or fortunate enough to see his visage on a TV screen at the top of the leaderboard of the oldest organized tournament on our planet: the 158th British Open

Astonishment. Forgiveness. Congratulations.

Locked in embrace with his 11-year-old daughter, Sam, with his 9-year-old son, Charlie, at his side, Tiger found comfort after four grueling days of golf that saw him emerge, and for one brief moment, rise to the lead on the final day.

"Hopefully you're proud of your pops for trying as hard as I did," Tiger told the eager press afterward. That's what  I told my kids, he said. That's what he wanted to talk about. They had never seen their father at the top of his game. They have only witnessed the pain and heartache of a fallen hero.

He tied for sixth place, his best finish in a Major golf tournament in five years. At one point it looked as though he was going to win, do the unthinkable yet expected of a great American hero: Charge victorious to the finish line.

Ironically, his playing partner that day, Fancesco Molinari from Italy, emerged the victor, playing steadily while all the attention was on Tiger.

We hunger for a hero. We have his back. We want to see him come back. But what has he given to the world that makes him so popular and so loved?

Try hope. Pride. Invincibility when he was at the top of his game. Then the fall. Personal issues. Indiscretions. Injuries. And now redemption.

Yesterday Tiger rose from the ashes and proved that he is not a quitter. He still shows signs of greatness. He showed humility among his peers and toward the press, qualities that were missing when he was dominating the game.

Simply ask anyone who watched the ancient game this past weekend that had grown men whacking a little white ball across a barren, windblown coastline -- many who wouldn't have paid attention otherwise. They wanted to see Tiger succeed.