HAWAII BLUE: laugh till you cry till you laugh

From the air the Big Island of Hawaii looks like a lush tropical paradise inviting you to live a life of luxury. But when the plane lands in Kona on the west coast you see only black lava with a few scattered grasses growing from the cracks. It's as uninviting as you can imagine. This is the contrast that the island throws at you; this is the cause of frustration that Wayne Stier writes in his novel, Hawaii Blue.

It's like a good news bad new joke that continues to swing to good news bad news good news. Take for instance the dive into the azure waters of Kealakekua Bay, the place where Captain Cook was killed. Wayne writes of the freedom and beauty of the fish--"and the fish they don't pay taxes and wear ballroom gowns for fins. " But then when he tries to come to shore he times his exit badly, grabs on to a ledge and get sea urchin quills in his fingers. He is in desperate need of disinfectant but there is none around. One thing will work, urine, but he just relieved himself in the ocean. Fortunately for him his friend needs to pee. Fortunately? His priorities are getting twisted. Then he needs to scramble up a hillside for two long hot miles without water. Feeling faint and looking like death, he would never be able to hitch a ride at the top. The pain in his finger is throbbing. He can't bend his little finger when he hitches, fortunately, for he by accident is giving the shaka sign. Because of this he gets the ride.

What do make of a place where all the rules are changed? If you don't like the weather just take a short drive: this one island has fifteen of the seventeen climates on the planet. The land under the lush green is rock, lava rock. Much of it is glass that cuts deep if there is an unlucky fall. The waves that look so graceful can slam you around like you are in a washing machine. "Who the hell called this ocean Pacific?"

The truth is many people are thrown off the island after a short stay; they are unable to adjust to the many changes demanded of them, or fearful of the violence of a volcanic eruption happening simultaneous to their tropical idle on the beach, simultaneous to snow falling on top of the mountain. Humor, it has been said, is based on sadness and there can be no sadness in heaven. There is plenty to cry about, to laugh about in this place rich in the aloha mystique.

If you ever dreamed of moving to Hawaii to find your paradise, if you ever visited or wish to visit the Big Island this book is essential. If you ever want to watch the sun "dance on the horizon behind a line of cancan clouds, then jazz sax solos into dusk," allow this book to open your eyes to the wonders, the madness of the beguiling Big Island of Hawaii.

Anton Richards