Email Elizabethwinter vacation 2014
You’re Never Too Old to Learn to Snorkel in Vanuatu
The Havannah Resort grounds
An amazing thing happened yesterday when I discovered that I am indeed able to snorkel in Vanuatu. I had no idea it was possible. This was a revelation. My Aussie friends from the Eratap Resort encouraged me to at least put on a mask and stick my head in the water to see what I was missing. But I argued that I cannot snorkel, not in Vanuatu, not anywhere.
Beach at The Havannah
It is not like I haven’t tried to snorkel in the past. I bought snorkel gear when I decided to learn to SCUBA in the late 1980s. To get certified in California back then, one needed to take a US Coast Guard-approved course, which meant the first few weeks were spent in class. By the time we got to the water, we were put through simple drills such as falling backward into the water with our flippers on, followed by diving directly to the bottom of the pool, twirling as we rose to the top.
In less than 10-feet of water, I punctured my eardrum by diving too quickly to the bottom. To be fair, my eardrum was already perforated by the time my eight-year-old self for unknown reasons thought it would be fun to stick a soda straw into my ear. But the dive made it much worse. I was in so much pain, but I tried like a fool to continue with the class. At one point, I was on the deck of the pool, curled up in a ball and crying.
Harbor view from The Havannah
To make matters worse, I went home and put eardrops into my ear, thinking I had blockage in my ear. I fell to the ground faster than if I was shot in the chest. Just collapsed. This all happened just days before I was to leave for Cancun for my honeymoon with husband #4. Needless to say, even with Silly Puddy planted in my ear and a plastic cap, I could not perform even the simplest of functions of snorkeling. Eventually, I gave away my snorkel gear to my landlocked niece Laura, in Minneapolis, who probably swapped it for a pair of earrings.
I tried to snorkel when my present and last husband, Adam, and I traveled to the Inside Passage in Alaska at Hobart Bay. I made an attempt to snorkel a few years earlier in Tahiti and Rangiroa, and every single time I would inhale water either through my nose or into my mouth. Eventually, I gave up.
But yesterday was different. I picked up my snorkel gear at The Havannah. Brought it back to my room. I tried on the mask and examined how the snorkel was attached. I practiced in the mirror by inserting the suction part into my mouth, after washing it repeatedly in the sink to remove the stuck-on sand. Played with moving the snorkel high behind my head. OK, I would give it a try.
I ventured into the water wearing my reef shoes, cautiously and slowly. To not snorkel in Vanuatu would indeed be a crime. Once I had walked in about waist high, I put my face into the water. Wow, I could see stuff: fish, coral, sand. I moved my face out of the water and took a few more steps. Face back in, this time I tried to breathe through my mouth. It worked. I didn’t swallow any water. I kept my face in the water until I felt comfortable enough to let my feet leave the sand and float.
For a few minutes, I floated in the water, breathing through the tube. Still good. I moved my hands in an outward motion and began to swim. I swam and stopped every few minutes to lift my head from the water. Still good. Face down and off I went. Fear conquered. Minutes later I was faced with a giant cluster of Bellus Angel Fish. They were gathered together in a mound, 10-feet long and four- feet wide and high, just sitting in a tight group, not swimming one way or the other.
My first thought was how cool would it be to swim right through them, right into the middle of the cluster? But at the time I didn’t know what they were or whether their slimy little fish bodies would inflict pain or if they would bite. I thought it was better for me to check it out first with authorities on land. I swam all around them in circles. They are mostly white, oblong about 8 inches with a big yellow streak lengthwise on the top edge and in the middle. This is the most exciting thing that has happened to me since getting short sale approval on a Nationstar auction sale in Elk Grove.
Moving into my 60s, I have learned it is never to late to learn how to snorkel in Vanuatu. I have overcome that fear of snorkeling. That’s an accomplishment.
Things that Tap Windows at Night on Efate Island, Vanuatu
Eratap bungalow back yard, Efate Island
Asking questions can sometimes lead to receiving answers one might prefer not to know. For example, I am attempting to set up a deep sea fishing expedition off Efate Island for Tuesday morning. Why deep sea? Because I can eat the fish that I catch. If I fish off the island in shallow waters I must catch and release or else give the fish away to the boat captain and, let’s face it, the better fish hang around in deeper waters out to sea. Fish like mahi-mahi or wahoo or yellowfin tuna.
Question: Am I allowed to eat everything I catch?
Answer: You can eat any fish except the type with the worms because the cook won’t allow that kind of fish in her kitchen.
Or, maybe a more simple thing might be to find out what it is that wakes me up several times during the night. It’s not the singing birds or the sound of waves crashing the shore, or even the rain that can fall so hard it sounds like I’m in the center of an underwater sewer in Atlantis. It’s the rapping on the window. Clearly a knock, a slight tap, in succession, maybe 4 or 5 times.
Beach lounging at Eratap, Efate Island
It could be a bird drinking out of the water bowl with lilies, I reckoned. Maybe its beak hits the side of the bowl, creating an echo. But no, upon recollection, it was definitely on the glass window, probably the doors on my bedroom deck. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Surely, I am not the only guest at Eratap to hear this sound, so I wandered to the front desk where the helpful staff always have the answers at hand.
This is also a good time to point out the dinner menu explanation in the resort book has a section titled lobster and bugs. I could see there is spiny lobster offered which, for some reason, they want to cover in mayonnaise, but I could not find the bugs. Not that I would eat a bug. Not on purpose. I suppose that when I sleep with my mouth open a bug could fly inside but they would say to themselves, whoa, all this crap is not teeth and leave.
Not really wanting to know the answer, I asked the question anyway about what could be rapping on my window in the middle of the night.
Oh. Must be the geckos.
Of course. Their little tails, slap, slap, slap, slap, saying: lemme in, lemme in, so I can quickly prance across your half-naked body with my sloppy fat wet toes.
I did not need to know that. So, I am NOT asking about the bugs.
Goodbye Waikiki Designer Stores and Honolulu Zoo
I’ve always said if I was ever going to Australia from California, I would stop over in Hawaii, and that’s almost the case here when I say goodbye to Waikiki and hello to Australia. The only difference is I am turning right around and flying out of Australia, heading for the country of Vanuatu. Van-ooo-where to, you might ask? Hey, it’s an easy question.
Honolulu has been interesting. I finally located a superb restaurant, thanks to a tip from one of my sellers in Sacramento who suggested Halekulani and I found La Mer. A thousand times better than my experience a few nights ago at Moana Surfrider. It’s like a private jet vs. a Disneyland tram. If the manager had only revealed that I needed to move a few doors down, I would have been happier with his response about why I couldn’t have what I wanted. I asked if I could pay for a better table and food, and the answer was no. No, Jose. He didn’t suggest go to Halekulani and you’ll be happy. Like he should have.
Giraffe at Honolulu Zoo
The Big Island has it really wrapped up when it comes to the demand for authentic shellfish. My husband and I discovered that secret during our last trip. They have a huge 200-foot underwater sea thing going on where they raise Maine Lobster and abalone. So I didn’t feel like I was endangering any species when I ordered it for dinner at La Mer. Best of all worlds, La Mer carries Kistler Chardonnay. I was so astonished. Granted, it’s the 2011 and not the 2013, but I’m not about to quibble after being forced to have dinner at Mauna Surfrider. Although, there is a stark difference. Just sayin’.
Black Handed Spider Monkey at Honolulu Zoo
I’ve got to admit the biggest problem in getting to La Mer from Moana Surfrider is walking past 1) all the portals in Ingress that need attacking and 2) all the designer stores. Speaking strictly about #2, I feel like a starved and thirsty desert crawler residing in Sacramento sans stores. You’ve got every designer in the world in Honolulu and all within a few blocks of my hotel: Ferragamo, Jimmy Choo, Hermes, Harry Winston, Tory Burch, Rolex; it’s enough to make my heart pound.
Designer stores Waikiki
When I told the guy at Jimmy Choo, after his shoes didn’t fit my delicate size 37-foot, that I couldn’t decide if I should go to the Honolulu Zoo or back to shopping, he opted for shopping. He said — no surprise — there are no animals at the zoo, it’s a waste of time, and I’be happier shopping. So, I went to the Honolulu Zoo.
You won’t hear from me for a day or so. I am losing a day as I travel to Australia, and then, with any luck, on to Vanuatu.
I hope you will still check back in on the adventures of Elizabeth Weintraub during her crazy solo trip to the South Pacific from Sacramento.
The Orchid Greenhouse in Lanai at The Lodge
Orchid Greenhouse at The Lodge, Lanai
It’s often a little sad to leave the islands in Hawaii but I depart today a happier person for having visited the orchid greenhouse at The Lodge. It’s a different way to see Lanai, Hawaii, to spend time at the Four Seasons Lodge instead of its sister property on the beach in Manele Bay. It’s like you are suddenly transported to the Rocky Mountains in Colorado, and summer weather is replaced by a fall rainshower. Lots of wood used in this resort and it sports a giant stone fireplace in the lobby, exerting a warm ambiance.
There is a sweeping golf course, a large pond loaded with koi fish that poke their noses out of the water when they see you approaching, a pergola, fountains, lush vegetation and flowers. It reminded me a little bit of our trip to Sonoma, California, without the wineries.
I had stopped briefly at The Lodge the day before on my way back to Manele Bay after running around Lanai City, and I had missed the orchid greenhouse because I didn’t know it was there. Which meant I had to go back before I left the island. First on my list was submitting Sweetheart Rock to Ingress as a suggested portal, which I finished early yesterday morning in the midst of strong winds blowing sand into every nook and cranny of exposed skin. The afternoon was reserved for a manicure and pedicure, which left a small window of opportunity to grab the shuttle without a reservation — which the shuttle guys don’t like very much, you must make a reservation — and head up to the orchid greenhouse at The Lodge.
Roasted tomato soup, without the cream, called out to me for lunch. A rainy day is a perfect day for tomato soup. It wasn’t cold outside, just wet and windy. The breeze was so strong it whipped my newspaper off the table during lunch when somebody opened a side door to the grounds. After shooting photos of the orchids and sitting in the greenhouse a while, admiring the beautiful orchids, which included a view of the turkeys frolicking about on the perfectly manicured lawn, I headed back to the lobby for lunch.
I don’t believe I have ever seen an ugly orchid. All orchids are inherently gorgeous. They are a perfect flower. Striking. Alluring. Original. Exciting. Creative. My sister says orchids need a scent to be a perfect flower but they create a fragrance inside your head, so you don’t need to experience it with your nose. I hope you enjoy the photographs.
Hulopo’e Beach Park to Manele Harbor in Lanai, Hawaii
Strolling through Hulopo’e Beach Park, my phone rang, sporting a familiar name of a Sacramento real estate agent popping up on the screen. I was just about to shoot a photograph of the tree you see here, the Gardenia Taitensis, which is the flower of Tahiti, when my phone vibrated in my hand. The reason I was carrying my cellphone in my hand — which might strike some of you odd as you say to yourselves, what kind of nut job carries her cell in Lanai, Hawaii? Who wants to stare at a cell when she can stare at the ocean rolling in and sharks jumping about — well, it is because I spotted an uncaptured portal in Ingress.
There are advantages to playing a cellphone game like Ingress. It can lead you to explore and walk to places you might not otherwise walk to. You could be lying on the beach and reading Judgment of Paris, which I haven’t yet cracked the first chapter, but no, you are up on two feet and walking off that filet mignon from the night before. The journey also led me to another spot that I would not have known was there except for Ingress.
Down the road about 350 meters from the beach is the Manele Bay small boat harbor. It looks like this is where the ferry from Maui 
pulls in to disembark / embark passengers. Gray skies rolled in, raindrops sprayed my face, but I shot a few photos of the boats, docks, framed by a large protective hill in the distance. When it rained a little bit harder, enough to put my electronic equipment in danger, I walked up to the vacant harbor house on the hill and shot a photo of the mailbox in the shape of a fish. On the front it read “fan mail only.” I don’t think the post office comes here, but I could be wrong.
And yes, there was a portal at Manele Bay. I upgraded a few resonators for the owner and created a mind control field. Mostly, though, I sat on a bench and admired the mailbox and the view of the harbor while the skies deployed a little mist.
Back at Hulopo’e Beach Park, I dropped a portal key and hacked the portal. Sure enough, I gained another portal key, so I picked up my original key from the ground. Now I had 2 portal keys and I could probably use one of them back at Four Seasons to generate an even larger mind control field. At that point, I pulled out my Nikon from my camera bag to shoot the Gardenia Taitensis when I recognized the name on my Caller ID buzzing in my other hand. It was a long story about the buyer of a condo and whether the seller, who hasn’t lived there for years and resides out-of-state, would know the specifics of litigation filed against the builder.
Isn’t every condo project in litigation these days or coming out of litigation, I asked? This is a cash transaction. I don’t personally have any information about the HOA — as a Sacramento REALTOR who covers four counties I don’t specialize in units in this particular complex — but I let the agent know that I would be happy to call the seller to see what I could find out. I don’t mind. I’m walking barefoot in the sand at Hulopo’e Beach Park. I’m shooting videos of sharks jumping out of the ocean to do backflips. I’ll do whatever I can to help. No problem.
Guess I threw the buyer’s agent for a loop because he didn’t expect cooperation. Especially not when I told him I’m in Hawaii, but just because I’m in Lanai doesn’t mean I don’t care about my transactions. This is when traveling solo pays off because I can do whatever I want. I don’t have a husband or friend tapping toes, rolling eyes because I’m talking to another agent during vacation. I’m not inconveniencing anybody. I’m enjoying the zen of this trip.
