Hiking Mo'ore'a, French Polynesia, Most Beautiful Island in the World

One of the best views in the world, from Belvedere Overlook looking north from the very heart of heart-shaped Mo'ore'a. I could stare at this photo all day. I went back there three times and this is the best shot by far.

Here's a quote from Arthur Frommer, founder and owner of Frommer's, and the author of best selling travel guides for fifty years: "I think Moorea is the most beautiful island in the world. Nothing compares with its sawtooth ridges and the dark-green hulk of Mount Rotui separating Cook's and Opunohu bays [photo above]. The view from Tahiti of Moorea's skyline is unforgettable. [next photo]"

The nearby island of Bora Bora is far more well-known around the world.  I had time to visit only one; and for me Mo'ore'a was the better choice because of the scenery and hiking trails.

"Mo'ore'a" means "yellow lizard".  Why name it that? I have heard two versions.  Either it is just the name of a family of chiefs, or it's an ancient legend about a magical egg. When it hatched, a yellow lizard came out. The couple who found it called it Moorea and raised it until it got big. It became immense and its parents were afraid and decided to give it up and abandoned it on a canoe that drifted to the East of Tahiti.

It was formed 1.5 to 2.5 million years ago from a volcanic hot spot, just like Hawaii, and was populated by Polynesians 1000 years ago or so, just a bit before Hawaii was.

Today it is a world class vacation destination, especially for honeymooners.  Here's the view from near the Island map shown above, overlooking the Sofitel, rated 9th in this list of the Twenty Best Overwater Bungalow Resorts in the world.

From one of those bungalows one may be treated to stunning sunrises over Tahiti Island.

Looking down, there are the crystal-blue tropical waters at your feet,

And turning the other direction, as a shower passes through, come the most vivid rainbows.

Mo'ore'a has a first-rate trails system in the middle area of the island.  The map shows the entire system with dark lines, with the red lines marking the sections I had a chance to hike, between Three Coconuts Col/Pass and Three Pines Overlook.

From Three Coconuts Pass, here's the view of Opunohu Bay, the left of the two bays in the headline photo, and often frequented by Cruise Ships. 

Turning to the left and craning your neck upward one has a close-up view of Mou'a Roa, such a sharp spire that I'm not sure it's ever been climbed. There is no info on it at 'Summit Post' which is my go-to authority on mountaineering destinations and one of the most comprehensive lists of peaks I know about.

Here's another look at Mou'a Roa from down lower and further north.

At the other end of my hiking exploits, from Three Pines viewpoint, one has a superb look at Cook's Bay, the right estuary in the headline photo, with the town of Paopao at the head of the bay.

Three Coconuts Col actually has more than three coconut trees, surely planted.  Three Pines viewpoint, on the other hand, is exactly as advertised.

Even the chickens on Mo'ore'a are beautiful.  Here's a rooster hanging around Three Pines looking for a handout.

One of the truly unique features of Mo'ore'a is Mou'a Puta, the 'pierced mountain'.

The hole is visible from the Ferry Harbor in the east, and from Cooks Bay in the west.  I did not climb it, but there is a steep, slippery trail to the summit, and here Summit Post does have a report, as does Wikiloc, where I found this stunning view back down to the Harbor:

My hikes were short ones.  Other than the Three Coconuts and Three Pines walk, which were both based at Belvedere Overlook, I also strolled the long beach at the Sofitel.  Half of it is the hotel's private beach, the other half is a long strand of public beach.

Bucket list item ticked off--a paradise destination that I did not want to die before seeing, because the experience is unquestionably one "to die for" :-)

Best kept secret on the Big Island's Coastal National Historic Trail

Remote, apparently seldom visited dual blowholes at 19.76653, -156.04914

This is the last report on the longest continuously hike-able section of Hawaii's Ala Kahakai National Historic Trail, and the section I recommend as Hawaii's contribution to the nationwide Fifty Trail.  The entire segment is 41.2 miles in length.  Here's an overview map. 

This post only covers the southern 7 or 8 miles of that.  Parts of it pass through an 1801 lava flow, so the historic old Polynesian-built footpath is lost here, but what is there is some well-marked modern trail.

The southern end of the long hike is at Honokohau Harbor, and on the way north through Kaloko-Honokau National Historic Park (before you reach the 1801 lava field) there are some nice beaches with ancient fish traps, restored dwellings, fish ponds, and interesting petroglyphs.

But then you strike out into the lava.  The world-class blowhole shown in the headline is in the middle of this stretch, a mile and a quarter from the nearest public access point, and not often visited.  I could find no photos or information about it, yet when I was there a whole line of spectators were lined up watching it.

These little 'a'ama crabs (Grapsus tenuicrustatus, also known as the thin-shelled black crab, rock crab, or natal lightfoot crab) are so wary and so lightning-quick and nimble that I've been unable to get close enough to get a good photo of them until now.  Here their attention was on the surging surf in the blowhole and not on me.  They're on the flat in the foreground in this shot, which came a second too late for full gush of pressurized water.

The new Kona Airport is also situated in this 1801 lava flow,

As is the Hawaii Ocean Sciences and Technology Park (note the landing airplane near the top of the photo)

In the middle of the lava flow is one tiny little coastal oasis with a few trees and a modern 'shrine'

And at the north end is some more modern coral art.  Behind the art below is the airport control tower and Hualalai Volcano.

So with that, I bid you adieu from

Pu'u Ahumoa - the Spiral Hike

On the slopes of Mauna Kea, on the dry west side, stands a thousand-foot-high cinder cone with a gently sloped spiral trail to its summit.  It's called Pu'u Ahumoa.

The summit is 7000 feet in elevation.  It is nicely symmetrical, but looks rather ordinary on approach.  But it has turned out to be one of my favorite Big Island Hikes.

Why?  Well, Ahumoa is strategically situated such that on a clear day, one can view five major volcano summits--every volcano on the Big Island except Kilauea, plus Haleakala on the neighboring island of Maui.

Unfortunately, the day I hiked was far from perfectly clear.  Off to the west, in the Saddle between Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, a thunderstorm was brewing.

The view of Hualalai was a peek-a-boo view.

The gap between Hualalai and Mauna Loa offers views of a nicely symmetric cinder cone.

Mauna Kea itself was covered by towering clouds, here viewed with Ahumoa's crater in the foreground.

The dry side of the island has been greening up since the deluge of rain brought by Hurricane Lane a couple weeks ago.  So there were plants providing color that normally lie dormant.

The first mile of the access route to Pu'u Ahumoa is part of a 36 mile multi-use trail that circles the flanks of Mauna Kea.  It's an overnight hike that I chose not to do on this trip, in order to fly without checking baggage, and because it's open to vehicles.

Maybe another time.  My focus for this trip is the 175 mile coastal trail, the Ala Kahakai National Historic Trail, which I'm designating as Hawaii's contribution to the Fifty Trail.   My next report, coming soon, covers more of that amazingly diverse route.

The Wrath of Hurricane Florence

High resolution view of the eye of Hurricane Florence, courtesy of NASA, taken from the International Space Station on September 12th while it was still out at sea.

My hiking exploits in Hawaii have been on hold as my attention was riveted on Hurricane Florence as it rampaged toward the North Carolina Coast, then stalled and lingered there.  My interest was very personal.  As you've seen from my numerous beach hike/sunrise images, I spend much of my non-travel time right where Florence had its worst impact.  The right front quadrant, where the onshore winds and storm surge are greatest, hit my area square on.

The result was that a big swath of shoreline on Topsail Island, where I own a condo, and where the North Carolina State Trail, the Mountains-to-Sea Trail, follows the beach for eight miles, was hit with major dune breaches.  Two of the worst places are shown below.

Helicopter view of the pavilion at Onslow County beach park where the east-bound Mountains-to-Sea Trail route leaves the beach to head northeast toward the Outer Banks

It was a mean storm, and the impact is ongoing even as I write this, yet it could have been much, much worse.  After the NASA image above was taken, the storm began to weaken.  This wasn't forecast, but it was a blessing.  By the time it made landfall at Wrightsville Beach, its wind impact was down.  The eye hit head-on at the fishing pier at Wrightsville beach, where there is an automated weather station, yet the wind gusts recorded there barely got to Hurricane force.  The effect of the eye is the brief, sharp downward spike in wind speeds right in the midst of the strongest gusts.

What is more notable about Florence is that it was battering the area for five days, moving at walking pace.  This caused rainfall totals to reach catastrophic levels.  Here is a Fayetteville Police Department image sequence of the Cape Fear River looking downstream from Person Street, Fayetteville, NC.

And here is the river gauge record for the nearby Northeast Cape Fear River showing that flooding from Florence exceeded all previous records.

I'm not showing tons of photos of the flooding and devastation.  They've saturated the media over the past week (and I was looking at them all).  I'm just posting the highlights here to say that during the storm I was unable to tear myself away from my TV and computer screens during the Florence rampage, with but one exception.

I took a quiet hike into a secret deep rainforest jungle off the 19th century Kaumana Trail at 5000 feet elevation, and just soaked in the peace.  The trail I hiked was an informal track, fairly easy to follow for a mile or so before it faded away.  Here is a GPS Track and a few photos.

The east-west portion of this hike was on the Kaumana Trail, an important Polynesian and early colonial commerce route that has been restored for hiking use.  The north-south portion is the ad-hoc trail, marked with bits of flag tape (see next photo), which plunges deep into a cool high-altitude rain forest.

Now that Florence is gone, I'm still following the reports of those who are returning to the island to assess the damage.  It's a week after the storm and much of my island still expects to have to wait several more days for electricity, water, and sewer service to be restored.

But I'm back out hiking, and will be posting next about another gem of a hike up on the Saddle area between Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa.  Stay tuned.