Up a Royal River

There are any number of ways to head up Kauai’s Wailua River. You can board a flat riverboat which, for a fare of about $15, makes the trip upriver in style, complete with narration on the outbound leg and Hawaiian musical entertainment on the return. You can rent a small craft with an outboard motor. You can water-ski your way up from the river’s mouth, which lies just a few miles south of the small town of Kapaa. We even saw one hardy, but seemingly battered soul hanging on for dear life in an inner tube as he was dragged skitteringly against the current by a speedboat.

My wife and I, however, chose the watery road less followed. Whether it was those American Assn. of Retired Persons membership cards that arrived without invitation a few days before our trip, or simply a desire to explore Kauai’s natural wonders peacefully, we opted to rent a two-person kayak and negotiate the river under our own power.

Our first visit to Hawaii was drawing to a close, and we were eager to extend our modest list of new experiences.

We chose to spend our final three days on Kauai. Known as the Garden Isle for its lush vegetation, the island was awash in spectacular natural sights including the Na Pali Coast, Waimea Canyon (“the Grand Canyon of the Pacific”) and the Spouting Horn, a saltwater geyser that jets water as high as 50 feet. But it was the gently flowing Wailua River--just a few miles from our hotel, the Kauai Outrigger--with which we decided to become better acquainted.

The Wailua, one of Hawaii’s few navigable rivers, figures prominently in Hawaiian history and tourism. The first migratory Polynesians reputedly landed at the mouth of the river on the island’s east side. Endowed with a regal climate, a superb beach and a stately river that wound through a luxuriant tropical forest hiding grottoes and waterfalls, the region became the home of Hawaiian royalty, the alii. The remains of seven sacred temples, or heiaus, stretch from the mouth of the Wailua to the top of Mt. Waialeale, the volcano that about 8 million years ago broke the ocean’s surface to give birth to Kauai. Caves in the bluffs above the river were the burial grounds of the aliis.

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About 1,500 years after the arrival of the first Hawaiians, more than half a million tourists annually cruise up the river especially to see the Fern Grotto, the island’s most popular tourist attraction. The grotto, an enormous fern-draped cave under gentle waterfalls, reportedly has been the site of more weddings than anywhere else on the islands.

In truth, my wife and I were not so much interested in legends or incontestably beautiful natural landmarks--as captivating as they sounded--as we were in another attribute of the river: the aerial rope swing. There, at long last, in a thoroughly authentic jungle habitat, I could play Tarzan to my wife’s Jane.

We had arranged our rental through Wailua River Kayak Adventures in Kapaa. Other companies had similar rates and would mount a car rack for carrying the kayak for free. But we picked Kayak Adventures, which gave us directions to a location near the mouth of the river and asked what time we’d like to start. They would rendezvous with us there, supplying the kayak, a cooler for the lunch we brought along and dry packs to protect our valuables. It couldn’t have been any more convenient.

Although the sun blazed in a blue sky punctuated with marshmallow clouds as we drove to the designated meeting place, the car radio advised of possible thunderstorms and a flash-flood watch. Having read that Mt. Waialeale, the source of the Wailua River, is the wettest spot on Earth--with yearly rainfall averaging more than 440 inches--we couldn’t imagine what a flash flood would be like here.

We met our guides, David and Tiane Cleveland, the owners of Kayak Adventures. I said, “Hi, I’m Steve, this is my wife Debbie. They’re talking flash floods; we’ve never kayaked and we’re more than a little worried that we’ll be swept halfway to Bora Bora.”

Tiane smiled, told us not to worry, and said we should get ready for one of the best days of our lives. She explained that the river would be safe, but that we should not stray off the main branch into tributaries where the danger from floods lay. And she warned that, although there was a trail to some wonderful waterfalls, we should refrain from hiking given the weather report.

Tiane spent a few minutes lecturing us in Kayaking 101. “If you want to go left, paddle on the right. If you want to go right, paddle on the left. Don’t worry about being in sync; it’s not likely you’ll hit each other’s paddle more than a couple of times.”

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Graduates of the short course, we edged the kayak into the river and climbed aboard, my wife in the front, me behind. We estimated an hour’s gentle stroking would be required to make the two-mile trip upstream from the river’s mouth. Passing between riverbanks laden with hau (jungle trees with hibiscus-like flowers), pandanus and pili grass that was once used for Hawaiian houses, we fell into silent contemplation.

But only 15 minutes later, fatigue set in. I knew this because my wife’s head no longer blocked my view upriver. I looked down to find her completely supine.

“Aren’t your shoulders killing you?” she asked.

“What shoulders?” I replied.

“I overheard the receptionist at our hotel say that Janet Jackson is on the island.”

“I bet she’s not kayaking.”

“Maybe she is, she seems very concerned about her body.”

“I’m concerned about my body too. I’m concerned that my muscles are numb and that my exposed skin feels as if it’s undergoing laser surgery.”

“Did you know that Buffy Sainte-Marie lives on Kauai?”

“No.”

Following this bout of sparkling conversation, we felt rejuvenated and resumed a steady, if not meteoric pace. Avid moviegoers, we turned our attention from the flora to motion pictures that were filmed on Kauai. Though an early segment in “Raiders of the Lost Ark” was actually filmed a few miles away on the Huleia River, there were several turns in the Wailua where I found it easy to imagine Indiana Jones bursting through the trees.

Farther along, we encountered an aquatic cul-de-sac on our right, beyond which an old Hawaiian village sat on a secluded plain. The village, which was featured in the opening sequence of the Dustin Hoffman film “Outbreak,” was actually burned to the ground to contain a deadly virus. As we’d been forewarned, the deserted site, restored by the movie makers, is called a historic spot, and a groundskeeper would not allow us to debark.

Continuing on, we came to the landing for the Fern Grotto and tied up at the far right side of the pier, well away from where any river barges would dock. (There has been some question about solo kayakers going to the Fern Grotto. It would be best to check with local kayak companies to determine if a visit to the grotto is permissible.)

A short trail led us and a troop of newly arrived riverboaters through dense jungle growth to the grotto. The barge operators politely asked us not to enter the grotto until their private tour was completed. When the tour departed, we found ourselves alone in the grotto, which was surrounded by green vegetation.

We recommenced our journey, taking only several more minutes of paddling to reach our prime objective: a deep, warm-water pool with two rope swings. The lower one, evidently for photojournalists, their spouses and acrophobes, hung about 10 to 15 feet over the water. The second rope dangled nearly 20 feet high.

We pulled our kayak onto the shore and joined a group of about 10 people already frolicking in and above the pool. As I, the Libra, studied the rope swings, evaluating trajectory angles, speeds and techniques for letting go, my wife scampered along the cliff ledge to take her place in line. It became clear that the desirable instant to let go was when you reached a point 180 degrees from the jump origin: This would assure the most height, distance and flight time, and the closest opportunity I’d come in this lifetime to emulating Michael Jordan.

When her turn arrived and the rope was placed in her hands, my wife concentrated her attention with an intensity I’d rarely seen. She worked the rope in her grip much as a baseball slugger would the handle of his bat. With the onlookers shouting encouragement, Debbie launched into her maiden aerial swing.

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The flight was much briefer than anyone anticipated. Debbie released as she neared the bottom of her swing, entering the water like a bullet at terminal velocity. I held my breath, wondering if she would exit the water shorter than when she entered. Thankfully, the pool was every bit as deep and safe as advertised. Debbie surfaced laughing, claiming for all to hear that she had lost her grip.

My swings, of course, seemed like perfection to me, though they apparently evoked consternation in others. Wanting to optimize my flight time, I attempted to hit that 180-degree mark. As I swung forward, I heard my wife yelling, “Let go, let go, let go,” a mantra that was taken up by other spectators. I remember thinking, with some indignation, “Do these people seriously believe I’m going to make a round-trip and plaster myself against that cliff face?”

Having swung to our hearts’ content, we hopped back in the kayak to begin the long trip home. Though the rowing should have been easier going downstream, the wind, as is wont along this river, was in our faces. Nevertheless, with soaring spirits we cheerfully returned to base, our paddles clacking into each other in an awesome, and admittedly comical, display of nonsynchronicity.

That night, our last in Hawaii, we dined at Brennecke’s Beach Broiler in Poipu Beach. The steak, seafood and service were outstanding.

Leaving the restaurant, we fell in behind young honeymooners and heard them agree to endure a time-share pitch to obtain a half-price fare on a helicopter ride. My wife whispered an idea to me. Catching up with the couple, we offered them a book with coupons that might allow them a similar fare without the sales spiel. They excitedly accepted.

We wistfully relinquished our Entertainment Discount Book for Hawaii. “After the helicopter ride, see if you can’t find a coupon for kayaking,” we told them. “There are some good memories waiting for you on the Wailua.”

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GUIDEBOOK

Kayaking Kauai

Getting there: There’s connecting service only from Los Angeles to Lihue, Kauai, changing planes in Honolulu. Fly Hawaiian Airlines all the way, or take any other nonstop service to Honolulu, connecting to Hawaiian or Aloha Airlines. Round-trip fares begin at about $410, including taxes.

Kayak rentals: Most kayak rental companies in Kauai have a daily rate of $45 to $55 for a two-person kayak and $25 to $35 for a single. Generally, the charge includes the kayak, life jackets, paddles and car-rack setup. If not included in the price, coolers and dry packs (to protect cameras and other valuables) are available for a small fee.

We rented from Wailua River Kayak Adventures (310 Kihapai St., Kapaa; telephone [808] 822-5795, fax [808] 822-2148) primarily because they delivered the kayak, fully outfitted, to the Wailua River. The daily rate was $50.

Among other companies that have kayak rentals: Outfitters Kauai, 2827 A Poipu Road, Poipu Plaza, Koloa; tel. (808) 742-9667. Kayak Kauai, 1340 Kuhio Highway, Kapaa, and 5070 Kuhio Highway, Hanelei; tel. (808) 826-9844 or (800) 437-3507. Chris the Fun Lady, 4-746 Kuhio Highway, Kapaa; tel. (808) 822-7759. Pedal ‘n Paddle, Ching Young Village, Kuhio Highway, Hanelei; tel. (808) 826-9069. Paradise River Rentals, Highway 50, Puhi; tel. (800) 66-BOATS.

What to take: Sunscreen, swimsuit, suitable footwear (such as Aqua Socks), hat, sunglasses, towels, food.

For more information: Hawaii Visitors Bureau, 3016 Umi St., Suite 207, Lihue, HI 96766; tel. (808) 245-3971.