Lana'i of the Tiger (The Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) (14 page)

The restrooms at Hulopo’e Beach
Park seemed dark after the blinding sunlight but my eyes quickly adjusted. I
went into a stall and slipped off my shorts, underwear and tee-shirt and
wiggled into my two-piece suit. The bottom part fit okay but the top seemed a
bit roomy. Had I lost weight while in hiding?

I cinched the halter strap a bit
tighter and went out to try and make out my reflection in the scratched metal
mirror. It was hard to see, but from what I could make out, I looked
presentable. Not whoo-hoo hot, but not ‘please put your clothes back on’ bad.

I picked my way back toward the
beach. Ono waved at me from the shoreline. When I got down there, he looked me
up and down. “Jeez, woman, you look like you just got off the red-eye from
Pittsburgh. Don’t you
ever
get out?”

I looked down. He was right. My legs
sported a bluish tinge that looked like I’d spent the last few weeks in the
hospital.

“It’s been a while since I’ve
gotten any sun,” I said.

“You want to go for a sail?” He
pointed to his catamaran, the
Maui Happy Returns.
It was bobbing in the
clear water out beyond the swimming area. “I can get a guy from the hotel to
dinghy us out there. We could circle the island and you could soak up a few
rays.”

“What about your golf people?
When are you supposed to meet up with them?”

“They won’t be done until after
four. Then they’ll spend a couple of hours at the bar reliving every hole. We
have plenty of time. Lana’i isn’t a very big island.”

 “Sounds great. Truth is, after
being stuck over here I’ll probably
never
want to come back. It’d be
nice to get a good look at it before I go.”

We picked up our things and
stashed them back in the Jeep. We drove the short distance to the Manele Bay
Hotel and Ono pulled up in front.

The property was breathtaking,
with a profusion of tropical plants and trees bursting from the circular garden
alongside the entranceway. The Four Seasons Manele Bay looked just as tidy and
luxurious as the Lodge at Koele up in Lana’i City, but with an entirely
different vibe. Manele Bay Hotel was beach posh; the Lodge at Koele was country
chic.

“Are you going to valet the car?
You think that’s okay?” I said.

“Trust me. I may not be
kama‘aina
,
but I’m getting wise to how things work around here.”

A valet hustled over and opened
my door while another opened Ono’s. Ono handed over the keys and, after
assuring the attendant we didn’t have any luggage, the Jeep was whisked away.

Ono walked over to the bell
captain’s podium and leaned in to talk to the bellman. The guy looked like he modeled
for O’Neil Surf Gear. He was taut and tanned, with a George Clooney-esque grin
and a hard-to-pin-down ethnicity. He glanced around as Ono talked to him, his
eyes darting from the door to the guests and other bellmen standing around. Then
he called to one of the other guys to come take over the podium. He said he’d
be back in half an hour. We walked twenty yards before he said anything.

“I’ll meet you down at the
beach, left side. Watch for me and then come out. I can’t bring the dinghy up onto
the sand.” 

Ono nodded.  We broke off to the
left and took the stairs to the beach while the bellman went right.

“Where’s he headed?” I said.

“I think they keep the dinghy over
by the private pier.”

We made it to the beach in less
than five minutes. After about ten more minutes a sleek white speedboat came
into sight, heading straight toward where we were standing. The boat did an
abrupt ninety-degree turn, sending a wave of foaming water crashing toward us.
The guy at the wheel waved and I realized it was the bellman.

“
That’s
the dinghy?” I
said.

“Yep. You ready to wade out
there?”

“You bet.”

Ono took my hand and we stepped
into the surf. The dinghy captain had lowered a short metal ladder off one side
of the boat and we had to swim to get to it. “Sorry you had to get wet,” he
said as he helped me aboard. “For registered guests we use the dinghy dock. But
I didn’t want my supervisor asking questions.”

“No worries, man,” said Ono. “We
appreciate the lift.”

The dinghy was as tidy and plush
as the hotel. The bellman handed me a fluffy white towel and I folded it into a
square and put it down on the Hawaiian-print upholstered bench before sitting
down. I was dripping wet but the sun felt good on my skin. Ono draped his towel
around his neck and stood in front with the driver.

A few minutes later we were alongside
the
Maui Happy Returns
. As I climbed aboard the catamaran, I turned and
saw Ono slip something into the bellman’s hand. The guy stuffed it into his
shirt pocket without even looking at it. Then he clapped Ono on the shoulder
and shot him a
shaka
before he roared away leaving us bobbing in his wake.

“How do you get someone to do
that?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“To break the rules and risk his
job to help you out.”

“Ha!” he said. “And you claim to
be the
kama’aina
around here? This is Hawaii. Actually, this is Lana’i, which
is like fifty-years-ago Hawaii. You need something done, you ask. Simple as
that. And then you offer your
mahalos
in the way the person wants to be
thanked.”

“But the guy could get fired.”

“Hardly. It’s hard to find guys
like him over here. They’d never fire him.”

I was about to ask what ‘guys
like him’ were, but decided to drop it. Besides, Ono was already taking up the anchor.
We were about to set sail.

CHAPTER
18

It’s reassuring to see things from
a distance. I guess that’s why they call it ‘getting perspective’ when you
finally figure something out. A month earlier I’d been able to see West Maui
from a helicopter for the first time, and it was spectacular.  In much the same
way, circumnavigating Lana’i gave me a totally different outlook on the place.
I’d been living in Lana’i City almost the entire time I’d been there, so I’d
figured most of the island was covered in tall pine trees. But once we got out
on the water, I realized how dry and barren most of it really was.

We sailed in a clockwise
direction, which meant once we left Hulopo’e Bay we headed west and then turned
north for the first hour or so. I sat on the back deck to be close to Ono while
he steered from the aft bridge. The deep swells kept me clinging to the rail,
so I didn’t move around much. Occasionally, it would get calm enough to talk.

“How far is it around Lana’i?” I
said.

“The island’s got less than
fifty miles of coastline. At this speed it should take us less than three hours,”
he said. “Sometimes you run into heavy chop and it takes longer, but I’m not
expecting much of that today.”

I looked at the sheer rocky
cliffs along the leeward side and realized why this island had always been
sparsely populated. The place looked forbidding, nothing but rocks and cliffs.
There was no vegetation to speak of. I could imagine ancient seafaring people
cruising by and saying,
No thanks
,
we’ll hold out for a few blades of
grass
.

 “It sure looks inhospitable,” I
said as we sailed past the cliffs north of Kaumalapau Harbor.

“Yeah, this part of the island
gets hardly any rainfall. Just up there is an area the locals call
Keahikawelo
,
the Garden of the Gods. I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen pictures,” he said.
“Believe me, it’s no garden. It’s a desolate stretch of dark red dirt with big
rocks in crazy formations carved by the wind.”

“Huh. I sometimes run on the
Garden of the Gods Road,” I said. “But I’ve never made it all the way out
there.”

We sailed for another half hour
before the wind slacked off enough that we could talk without shouting.

“See those black rocks up
ahead?” Ono pointed to an outcropping of tall lava rock formations jutting out
from the sea. “They’re called ‘The Five Sisters.’ This is where the coastline
starts changing from cliffs to beach. In a little while we’ll be passing
Polihua Beach, the longest beach on the island. Hardcore types come out here to
camp and pretend they’re on ‘Survivor’.”

Sure enough, before long we were
in sight of a wide beach boasting silvery sand and brilliant aquamarine water.
The abrupt shift from steep gray cliffs to magnificent sandy beach was
startling.

“It’s almost like it’s not the
same island,” I said.

“Yeah. Wait ‘til we make the
turn at the top. The difference between the leeward and windward sides is even
more incredible.”

“What’s that?” I pointed to a
huge brown shape in the water dead ahead.

“Oh, that’s an old ship. This
beach is called Shipwreck Beach. Ships have been cracking up here in the Kalohi
Channel for centuries.”

“So that’s a shipwreck?”

“Not technically. The navy ran that
ship aground on purpose. It’s an old oiler from World War Two, one of the many
‘liberty ships’ they used to refuel the Pacific Fleet. It’s made of concrete,
with iron cladding. The iron is all rusted, that’s why it’s brown. When the war
was over, the U.S. Navy dumped the liberty ships in places like this to make
habitat for marine life.”

“It’s spooky,” I said. “It looks
like a ghost ship.”

“Yeah, but it serves two
purposes. It warns sailors these waters are dangerous, and it acts like a coral
reef. This is a popular spot for divers and snorkelers.”

We glided toward the rusting
hulk of the ship.

“Okay, this is where it’s gonna
start rocking and rolling,” Ono said. “We’re heading into the Pailolo Channel.
The winds here create a venturi-effect. It’s got circular winds as strong as a
wind tunnel. It’s gonna get crazy, but once we make the turn and head south
it’ll calm down.”

He wasn’t kidding. Like someone
had turned a switch, the wind started howling. The catamaran jumped like it had
been goosed, but Ono managed to keep us on course. Before long, we cut across
the chop and turned so the land was now on our right, or starboard, side.

“That was the worst of it,” he
said. “See how much greener it is over here?”

The windward side of the Lana’i—the
side that faces Maui—was a bit greener than the leeward side. I hadn’t noticed until
Ono pointed it out because I’d been staring at the jagged mountains of West
Maui.

“Is home looking good to you?”
Ono said.

“Better than ever.”

We dropped anchor back at
Hulopo’e Bay at about four-thirty. It had been a great sail, but I was eager to
get back to dry land.

“Got any plans for tonight?” Ono
said.

“Nothing fun.  I’m going to clean
up the White Orchid for Darryl and Ewa’s homecoming tomorrow morning.”

“It already looked pretty clean
to me.”

I didn’t say anything. I was
really going to be packing for my own trip home, but I wasn’t about to tell
that to Ono.

“What would it take to talk you
into leaving the B & B in ‘good enough’ condition and spending the night
with me here on the boat?” He’d moved in close and put an arm around my waist.

I turned and wiggled away from
his embrace. I shot him a smile and rubbed my hands up and down my arms as if I
were cold.

“What’s going on?” he said.
“What’s the deal? I got
kim chee
breath or something?”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just
feeling a bit torn.”

“About…?”

“I got a card from Hatch. And it
made me realize how much I miss him. Actually, I miss all of them. Farrah, my
roommate Steve, Sifu Doug. Everybody.”

Ono looked out to sea and
cranked the wheel around as we made our final approach into Hulopo’e Bay. “I
hate to break it to you, Pali, but from the looks of things, some of them have moved
on without you.”

I shot him a quizzical look.
“What do you mean?”

“Let me set the anchor and we’ll
talk.”

After he’d lowered the anchor
and the boat was softly rocking in the calm waters of the bay, he sat down on
the bench seat and patted the cushion next to him. I plopped down.

“I didn’t say anything to you earlier
because I didn’t want to come off sounding like a snitch,” he said.

We both caught the irony of that
remark and we smiled at the same time.

“Anyway,” he went on. “Farrah
and Hatch are living together now. I guess they must’ve bonded over you going away.”

“Where’d you hear that?” My
voice had the shrill tone of a mother being told her kid had been caught
selling drugs at school.

“I didn’t just hear it, I saw
it. Hatch called and asked me to help him move some of Farrrah’s stuff out of her
apartment. I helped him carry a sofa down the stairs—.”

“But that doesn’t mean anything.
She had to get out of there. She could have moved anywhere.”

“—and then I helped him move it
into his house in Sprecklesville.”

“But—”

“No buts. She wasn’t there when
we got back, but she’d made us lunch. And when she finally got back to working
at the store again, he started working with her. He’s always with her. Word
around town is you never see her without him. He still works his shifts at the
firehouse but that’s about the only time they’re apart.”

I put my head in my hands. This
was something I never could have seen coming.

“I’m sorry to be the one telling
you this,” he said. “But I thought you’d want to know.”

I stared out at the beach.
Should I go ahead and go home, or was the universe giving me a kick in the rear
so I’d stick around and do the right thing by Tyler?

“I need to get back to the White
Orchid.”

“I guess that means ‘no’ on
staying out here on the boat tonight?”

“I’ve had a great time today,
Ono. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

***

Ono called for the dinghy and
this time the guy who answered asked if Ono was a registered guest at the
hotel.