Ka Puana: My Island

By Rocky Sherwood

I came to the Kona Coast in search of contentment. What I have learned is how to manifest it from the simple beauty of the earth.

Chameleons hang like jewelry in the trees. Doves coo a constant question, “Are you listening? Do you hear?” Roosters crow at a distance and wild hens cluck softly to their chicks as they scratch under the hedge for bugs that skitter in the leaves. Moss grows without making a sound; creeping its green velvet over my shaded concrete path, and fern fronds unfold ever so slowly, reaching toward the light. If I look west from my sanctuary, I see the blue expanse of ocean that does not end until it washes up against China. Up east lies the long slope of green mountain that protects me from the wind and cradles the fire of volcanic magma which formed this entire island. I cannot imagine a more peaceful or more violent place to be.

There is a pool at my favorite beach that I call the Toilet Bowl, because the sea flushes in and out of it, with foaming violence. The narrow inlet, between jagged lava spires, increases the water pressure like a natural valve. The pool fills with an incoming wave and suctions nearly dry as the sea pulls back. No one, sane, would ever venture to set foot in this roiling rocky hole of sharp stone and tenacious urchins. But when the tide is very low and the swells are small and slow, it becomes my personal thrill ride.

A careful climb into the bowl finds a gentle sandy bottom about four feet down. When a filling swell approaches, I tuck my knees up to my chest and roll with the punch. I am tossed one way and sucked another; floating freely in the warm womb of my tropical ocean. I stretch full length on my back and sluice swiftly toward the outer wall of the basin and then tuck, once more, and roll back toward the ragged edge of land. The rough, volcanic fingers hold me safely within the pool and I shriek with pure delight as I am thrown and heaved about; unscathed and swirling in an endless whirlpool of play.

Despite the fact that this point of land requires a walk across sharp, uneven rubble of coral and stone, a tourist will occasionally wander by. I think I see a gleam of envy in their eyes when they spot me riding in this treacherous, churning hole. My discovery of the sand beneath the waves and my trusting of the current put me in my bliss. There is no fear or anger on my island; only peace. There is an acceptance of fate allowing a freedom that is quite different from anything I have experienced before. This place seethes beneath the rocky soil; steaming and heaving with the heated passion that creates both life and death. New land is formed by lava flows and tropical forests often burn. The earth is constantly changing and reminding me to remain awake to every moment of my day. When I am sitting still in the garden or floating in the sea, I know that I have no control and I have evolved into acceptance. Have I found my ultimate contentment? When I am awash with joy, I realize that I will never know, and that, too, is just fine. ❖