hot pockets

Kehena Black Sand Beach

The first time I went to a nude/topless optional beach was in Greece when my friend and I were meeting a B-school classmate in his home country. Unfamiliar with the local customs, we didn't find out until later that it is legal to go topless at all beaches in Greece, and while a conservative country with its religious affiliations, naturism has popped up at unofficial spots throughout the country and surrounding islands.

Typical American women in our 20s, we were fascinated by the Europeans' 'joie de vivre'. We spent countless minutes debating on whether we should or should not, especially since we were thousands of miles away from anyone we would know (other than our friend who was joining us later). Ultimately, we talked ourselves out of it. 

Soon thereafter, an elderly women laid her belongings near us and started to disrobe. Most likely, she was a bronzed goddess in her day and it was clear that she came from a time where SPF was not a factor in the fountain of youth. While buxom, gravity had taken its toll. In silence, we looked at each other and almost in synchrony reached back to untie our respective bikini tops. Later, in recounting the experience, we both realized that the woman had something that our womanhood craved...an air of confidence that nobody could ever touch.

After swimming in the ocean and feeling the movement of the water against my sensitive nipples, I felt such a sense of liberation and perhaps for the first time, the possibilities of where my body would take me if I let it. Unfortunately, our 'prudish upbringing' had us covering up before our friend joined us. While I have been on clothing-optional beaches since then, I stayed in conformity with my fellow companions.

The Pahoa area is a bit of the Wild West where people live off grid and seemingly no rules. At the top of the cliff are ad hoc food vendors, offering fruit and some grilled meats off the back of the trucks, a front for a side business offering herbal and plant medicine.

coconut refreshment

Unlike other clothing optional beaches I have gone to over the years, Kehena Beach was the first one where it seemed completely judgement free, regardless of whether one chose naturism, fully clothed and all variations in between. Children and pets, including chickens, were welcomed, and although there was no trash repositories anywhere, everyone embraced the Burning Man principle of 'leaving no trace' (rub-a-dub-dub). 

On Sundays, there is an amazing improv drum circle that resonates primitive sacral beats against the roaring of the surf. The energy of the place (a likely combination of Mother Nature and the inhabitants) felt different from saudade (part 2), perhaps laced with that air the Greek woman exuded. It was still there today even without the frivolity of the drum circle.

My first time a few weeks ago, I once again found myself falling into stride with my companion. Perhaps in rebellion of her judgments against women in alternative lifestyles and/or perhaps entranced by the primal movements of an African man with a body of Adonis, I felt the siren song of the elderly Greek woman from decades before. Although out of politeness, I asked my companion a few weeks ago and my companion today if they would be uncomfortable, it was more a gesture of formality. 

The last few years of exploration has gotten me more comfortable in my own skin. As I embraced that air that is untouchable today, I find myself wondering how the Greek woman's story unfolded and how her journey got her to place where her aura touched two strangers, and left a mark on at least one.

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Lava a few stories deep

Along the road to Kehena Beach is a juxtaposition of the dense forest and the barren black, a souvenir from the last eruption at Kīlauea's east rift zone in 2018. At the east side of Pohoiki Bay is where the new meets the old as the lava was halted by the coolness of the ocean waters, about 200 yards from the Isaac Hale Beach Park parking lot. Now cut off from Kapoho Bay and Leilani Estates, this part of the world is a bit remote but a little persistence and a beautiful surprise awaits amongst the lava rocks.

Unlike other hot springs on the mainland, the hot ponds at Pohoiki is clear and is trapped by the surrounding black sand or lava rocks created from the ocean currents inundating the bay with sediment from past eruptions. The water is heated underground by the active volcano and is released in various vents. The pond furthest from the ocean is the hottest and has registered temperatures as hot as 106 degrees, rising since 2020, which some believe are due to the brackish salt-water that has changed the water table underground, elevating the fresh-water to higher temperatures. The tides also seem to influence the temperatures throughout the day.

While not quite the texture of pumice stones, the lava rocks provided a decent alternative to exfoliation, and an impromptu soak in the hot ponds provided by Pele with the minerals from Papa or Ka-luahine was a beautiful way to end the day. We also met a lovely blue heeler named Kiko who amazingly was not deterred by the heated ponds, playing catch with me while her master floated in the pond.

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Perhaps supercharged from the vibrations of the Earth, an inexplicable incident occurred as we stepped into the Thai restaurant in Pāhoa that evening. Another patron and my friend recognized each other from the hot ponds. I didn't quite connect the gentleman but maybe he was the person I clambered passed as we got to the smaller but hotter pond amongst the trees. I only saw his back as he was sitting, gathering his things. 

He was seated facing the windows while reading his book, waiting for his order. As the night progressed, I felt this pull on the left side of my body, which was facing him although he was not in my line of sight. I'm not sure when I made the recognition that it may have been attributed to him, but as my friend chatted with him on the way back from the restroom, I started to clean out my inbox on my phone, when I came across the word from a listing from the Redfin email at the same time he named the town he was staying in on the island...Pepeekeo. The first time I had seen or heard it, a mere five minutes from our rental.

Hesitant to voice it but driven to acknowledge it, I mentioned the strange feeling in my body and the simultaneous visual and auditory echoing of his town. Even as I put words to it, my throat started to constrict. I don't know when he left but I felt it as my body slowly released the tension. It was as if there is a knowing of his energy, perchance from another life or a foreboding or sanguinity yet to be fulfilled. I knew it was not the last time I would see Matt.