Savoring Molokai’s Slower Pace

Moments after the ferry pulls away from its dock in Lahaina, three Hawaiian brothers snap open the lid of their behemoth cooler and begin to hand icy-cold cans of beer to any of the handful of passengers who will take them. “It’s a two-hour ride to Molokai,” one says, as I accept his gift. A few passengers move inside to avoid the ocean breeze and occasional salty spray in the Pailolo Channel between Maui and Molokai, but eight of us perch on tables and benches in the back of the ferry, pointing out breaching whales as the light fades to sunset orange and pink. When he hands me a second beer, the same brother offers advice, thinking we’d stumbled onto the ferry believing it was the one way to get to Molokai. Back across the channel, I spy the bright lights of Maui’s multistory resorts, beachfront restaurants and shops in Kaanapali. [...] I can count a couple dozen lights along the waterfront near the Molokai harbor, and several of them are waiting cars, to pick up relatives from the ferry trip. On the more populated Hawaiian islands, you can always find a spot to get away from it all. There are no huge hotels, traffic jams, T-shirt shops, barkers or themed events. From the edge of the rock wall that divides the Pacific Ocean from the Ali'i Fishpond, I turn my back to the sea to gaze at the deep furrows carved into Molokai’s mountain slopes, the tops of which are shrouded in mist. “You have to be pono,” says Mervin Dudoit, as he describes how Hawaiian ancestors hand-carried rocks from the mountain 10 miles away to form the 2,700-foot-long wall on which we’re standing — one of about 60 stone fishponds that once existed on the southern shore of Molokai. Born and raised on Molokai, Uncle Merv is on the Kapuna (wise elder) Council of local nonprofit Ka Honua Momona, an organization that aims to be a model of sustainability from mauka a makai (mountains to sea). Over the years, many of these examples of aquaculture have become choked with mangrove, which have trapped sediment and blocked the sluice gates in the ponds. “People come here and go straight to ride the mules at Kalaupapa, thinking the former leper colony is the only history here,” says Uncle Merv. Instead of catching a dive boat later that day, I drive along the road from the largest town, Kaunakakai, to Molokai’s quiet “top end.” Some front yards sport anti-GMO messages involving Monsanto, which has established test farms on the island. Minding the “Watch out, coconuts may fall” sign, I walk a wide path around the towering coconut trees that stand guard on the beach between the two fishing ponds. “When I was in school, we got in trouble for speaking Hawaiian,” says Uncle Merv, who smiles as he watches the boys pass by. Local stories and history occupy my ears, and the slow accumulation of Molokai life seeps in, like the nearly invisible salt spray on my skin. “You know when I said the only travelers on the boat are locals?” he asked. Alternatively, fly from San Francisco to Maui and take the ferry, which leaves twice a day from Lahaina Harbor. Hotel Molokai: 1300 Kamehameha V Highway, Kaunakakai. Guest rooms with ocean and garden views are strategically placed east to west to allow the trade winds to filter through this South Seas-style resort. Room rates start at $179. Room rates start at $100. While it’s open for breakfast and plate lunches, the reason to come here is for the hot bread, sold at night from the back door of the restaurant. Relaxed local spot serves breakfast, lunch and dinner, with specialties ranging from chicken katsu to macadamia nut pancakes to loco moco. Community workdays allow visitors to help out, learn Hawaiian history and tradition, and share a potluck lunch. Take your time perusing the outdoor market for picnic items. Get a free tour of the only macadamia farm on Molokai, and a small gift shop allows you to bring home some local mac nut sweets.