No Regrets!

Another morning workout, another chia pudding parfait and banana for breakfast with a backdrop of swinging palm trees and crashing waves. Life could be worse. Sitting at our breezy breakfast table with the boys, I told them my Claire Danes story, probably the best story I have about myself, one about building character, seizing opportunities, and living life with no regrets.

We spent most of the day sitting poolside, with gentle Hawaiian music strumming from speakers in the distance. Scott and I liberally applied the resort’s thick and cakey sunblock to our faces and bodies until Dave joked we looked ghost-like and ephemeral. We lack the thick, leathery hide commonly found on Floridians. For lunch, I devoured a delicious grilled shrimp caesar salad and then had fun with AI filters on some of our photos. It’s crazy what you can do with AI now.

We got cleaned up and met in the lobby for our Audubon Society-sponsored bird-watching safari. Scott had been told the tour is fantastic, but Dave and I were skeptical because we couldn’t care less about birds unless we’re eating them.

In the lobby, I saw a woman sitting alone and reading a magazine, looking a lot like she was waiting for something. I asked her if she was waiting for the bird tour at a volume that was appropriate for the distance between us, and she completely ignored me. Our guide overheard me from the other side of the lobby and hopped over to introduce himself. Our guide, also named Scott, had a bit of a Billy Corgan vibe.

Turns out that we were the only three people who booked the tour. Fitting. It boggles our mind how asocial this resort, island, and dare I say entire state is. Everyone on vacation here really is coupled up or part of a family. I wish Nick Allen was able to join us on this tour, but it was not to be.

After getting into our golf cart, he gave each of us color-coded finger clickers to count specific species of birds, both to keep us engaged but also for science, as our data would be logged in his eBird app for local wildlife organizations. Dave suggested a clicker to count the number of times he cleared is throat, seemingly necessary between every sentence.

By golf cart, we enjoyed a refreshing tour of Turtle Bay Resort’s enormous property, golf course, and surrounding rainforest. We ended up counting hundreds of different birds comprising 25 different species, many from Polynesia, India, and Africa, and a few of them critically endangered. Most impressive was the albatross, and one of them had a crush on Scott.

It occurred to me that we haven’t seen any seagulls in Hawaii. Our guide explained that this is because seagulls prefer cooler waters. ChatGPT goes on to say that gulls prefer regions with consistent food sources such as large fish markets, busy harbors filled with discarded food, and garbage dumps that offer scavenging opportunities, none of which are readily available in isolated islands like Hawaii. Native Hawaiian seabirds have adapted to the environment and dominate the ecological niches that might otherwise be available to gulls.

As a bonus, we also stopped at Kawela Bay (site of our photo shoot) to see some green sea turtles popping their heads out of the water and an impressive banyan tree featured in many films shot in the area. The wildlife safari ended up being a pretty fun experience. Our guide definitely knew his stuff.

He also happened to mention that our resort is only about 30% full, which matches estimates Dave and I made. A lot of people don’t come up this time of year, preferring to come during the summer when the seas are calmer and during the holiday season.

Back in the hotel lobby, I found the perfect spot to watch the setting sun: the left side of the lobby bar, where the sun perfectly bisects two silhouetted palm trees. As waves crashed in the distance, I was mesmerized by the white spray beautifully kicked off the top of waves by the wind. Turns out there is a fancy word for this spray: spindrift. We were treated to what might have been the best sunset of many great sunsets on this trip.

Dinner was back at Alaia, a restaurant at this resort that we have already enjoyed a couple of times. Scott and Dave propped up their phones at the table so that we could enjoy the Jake Paul-Mike Tyson fight as we ate. Scott and I shared a tomahawk steak, an enormous and delicious cut served with a beautiful reduction and fancy Hawaiian sea salts. When the main event started, we were so into it that a guy from another table who looked like Willie Nelson’s cancer-riddled younger brother came over to tell us to keep it down. The fight itself ended up being a disappointment, with Jake Paul and our childhood hero Mike Tyson putting on a performance that was almost certainly driven by money. Tyson lost my decision.

Defeated by a day in the sun, a caveman portion of red meat, and perhaps demoralized by Tyson’s loss, Scott headed up to the room to regroup while Dave and I hit the lobby bar for more drinks. Next to the bar was perhaps the worst guitarist of the many we’ve seen at the resort. This guy had a guitar hanging around his neck with his hands folded in front of him and an iPhone playing karaoke backing tracks. He sang Tom Petty songs even worse than Tom Petty.

Then back to Dave’s balcony to finish the night off with more music and drinks, with stars in the sky above and waves crashing below. It was 80’s night, so I could keep up with these guys with my own song selections.

This morning, another workout and chia pudding for me. Scott went next level and left for a run on one of the trails along the coast. I would have joined him, if not for my left buttcheek hurting so much. He returned triumphant, with stories of majestic views and fresh air and the sounds of nature but admitted that he tripped over a tree root and ate shit.

Now at the pool. In response to my continued refusal to bake in the sun, Dave treated us to a fancy poolside cabana. I can’t imagine a more perfect blogging setup: a shaded cabana with couches, a view of palm trees and waves, gentle Hawaiian music in the air, tropical drinks, lunch on the way, good wifi, electrical outlets, and two friends laying in the sun next to me (one brown and leathery and the other more ghost-like). The only thing hanging over my head is the 24-hour check-in email notification from Delta, which is almost certainly coming soon and always marks the depressing end of a wonderful vacation.

We’ve hastily planned our last day on the island, which includes a driving tour of Oahu’s east coast, a short hike, and one final beach stop before heading to the airport and saying goodbye to Hawaii.