Our final adventure on Kauai was a river trip, not quite so wild and more organized than some of our earlier excursions. But I wanted to be sure to get on a Hawaiian river so I could add another entry to my “states I’ve paddled rivers in” life-list— up to 25 at this point.
At 8:45 am we met Gabe, our guide, at an outfitter shop with ten others at the Coconut Market Place shopping center not far from where we are staying. Lots of westerners on the trip— Utah, Oregon, Colorado. One couple was from Philly. Our guide Gabe was a great guy—tall, gregarious and originally from England by way of Ohio. He said he’s been in Hawaii three years. Before we left he gave a trip talk, let us choose a couple of snacks and waters, and then we loaded the van for the short drive to the Wailua River put-in at a marina near the mouth of the river where the Kuhio Highway crosses. It was all familiar to me—the trip talk, the jokes, the van ride, the unloading of boats. The rituals of river eco-tourism are the same the world over and I have always sought them out.
This would be a hybrid trip— 2 miles of paddling, beach the boats, and then a mile walk up the north fork of the river to the 100-foot Uluwehi Falls. On most rivers the outfitter drives you and your boat to a put-in upstream, drops you in the water, and you float back downstream. As Gabe explained though, the Wailua is more like a lake, with little current. So it would be up and back.
Betsy and I soon launched our yellow double kayak. We slipped on the water, left the harbor, and paddled over to the right side of river (big green flat-bottomed tour boats go up and down river left) and our group spread out pretty fast based on ability to steer the double kayaks Gabe had reminded us in the trip talk that tandems can be known as “divorce boats.” There was a sea breeze and I knew it would be in our faces on the way home, and there would be a few couples disputes to resolve over happy hour.
The river is broad and blue at its mouth where we launched. Soon the highway was far away. Gabe poked his boat into thick vegetation lining both banks and plucked off hao flowers for anyone who wanted one— yellow edible flowers that turn pink and fade after only a day. Also called sea hibiscus, Gabe explained the hao was brought to Hawaii by the ancient Polynesians, one of the 37 canoe plants. They used the tough, light wood to make canoe outriggers, fishnet floats, and fire starters. The young bark was used for cordage. The bark and other plant parts were used for medicinal purposes too. It was a great example of getting much you need from a single plant which is now everywhere.
I kept thinking as we paddled upstream about how central this river must have been to early culture— it provided food, beauty, and even religion. Wailua-nui-a-ho-'ano, Great-sacred-Wailua, was settled by voyagers from the Marquesas Islands. These early settlers built temples here. The banks of the lower Wailua River have always been considered sacred grounds and they were the home of the high chiefs of Kaua'i. Wailua's legends reflect a thousand years of history about the place. We’d stopped at several of the sacred sites at the mouth on our first day in Kapa’a and I had read plenty about life and culture here. Here was a chance to see and feel it from another angle.
In a half hour or so we reached the landing beach and it become clear why the outfitters use double kayaks— the sheer volume of river adventurers. There must have been fifty kayaks pulled on on the sand and gravel. It was quite chaotic as boats came and went. Uluwehi Falls is nicknamed “Secret Falls” by locals, but all the boats on the beach was, as one of the blogs I’d read claimed, that it is one of Kauai’s most popular secrets.
This is a good place to say a word about industrial eco-tourism, by which I mean tours created to visit popular natural sites. I call this tourism “industrial” because the experiences are manufactured and repeated over and over— the gear, the routes, the guides, the narration. I am entirely in favor of eco-tourism and have both worked in it and participated in its tours. I have been a guide. Eco-tourism offers a way to get people out in the world, and if done well, it can even protect larger less sublime areas by channeling crowds safely to popular spots and allowing other sports to be left alone.
Unfortunately, when done poorly industrial eco-tourism quickly shows— overcrowding, trash, dangerous spots. The Secret Falls Tour is a good one. Obviously the tourist pressure is extreme and there maybe needs to be some control asserted on the outfitters to make the experience a little better— maybe a permit system with fixed launch times could be attempted? I don’t think this sort of regulation system would fly though. There are at least five or six outfitters running trips to the waterfall at $100 a person and there seems to be someone renting individual boats as well. As we paddled out at 3:30 there were still groups headed upriver.
We began our walk. The Wailua River turns shallow and rocky soon after the landing beach. Gabe kept us moving and the trip interesting. Working our way through grasslands along the river and upriver he kept our attention on the landscape by pointing out many plants— the sensitive briar planted, according to legend, to discourage Hawaiians from going barefoot, and the small purple flower that “tastes like portobello mushroom”(porter weed or rat’s tail), and the vine that “makes a great shampoo” (awapuhi ginger) keeping our attention away from the frequent pods of eco-tourists headed back past us to the landing beach.
We encountered a good example of forward-thinking in adventure travel along the middle of the river trail. We’d been told the outfitters had pooled some of their Covid money and built an elevated bog bridge for maybe a quarter mile and we reached it. The elevated path offers nice footing and it cuts down on much of the mud and wear on the trail. There was at least one place it had been compromised though and I wondered if there was any plan in place to maintain it.
We soon passed a really beautiful “offering stone” and I left a fern there with my prayer for continued good health. Just past the stone Gabe pointed out extensive hog damage along the trail and said there are three times as many hogs as people on the island.
As we walked I talked with another tourist, a rancher from Utah— he was pretty innovative in capturing snow melt with swales and growing grass hydroponically to mix with hay.
Soon we approached the area up near the waterfall and an idyllic mood descended— huge trees, old terrace walls for agriculture, and a deep sense of habitation. Gabe told us about the Kalalau Valley up on the Na Poli coast where all the hippies hide out and said they’ve restored some of these old Hawaiian agricultural systems. Gabe admired the place. He said he stayed in there three weeks once—walking around naked.
A little further along where the Uluwehi stream empties into the river there are the remains of an extensive stone bath. Pretty wonderful place. Gabe said it’s where the queens bathed in the old days. There are worked fitted stones still there and a nice pool. Near the baths Gabe dug up earthworms to feed a perky bird, a white-rumped shama, he has trained to entertain the eco-tourists. There was something very magical about that moment, even though it’s just become another part of the show.
Soon we scrambled up and into the Stream and along a rope fixed for crossing. Here had happened eco-tourism’s worse nightmare. In 2016 a flash flood washed two women off the rope while crossing the little stream. One drowned and the other was rescued below in the main river channel. For us there was just a little water in the stream, so there wasn’t even a shadow of the tragedy.
A hundred yards upstream we approached the waterfall under the arch of a downed log washed over the falls once in a flash flood. It’s a quite dramatic view. It’s 100 foot falls with a large pool at the bottom spotted with many bathers. Roosters crowed and foraged for lunch scraps. There was the silent circling of tropic birds drifting above.
We stayed a half hour at the falls and watched the tourists frolicking in Instagram moments. I watched the honeymooning couple in our group take a 10 minute video with the selfie stick passing back and forth under the waterfall.
I sat and watched, slightly out of the mainstream. I didn’t want I think too much about water chemistry. It’s not my idea of paradise to swim in a contained pool where hundreds of others have been swimming and wading all day.
The walk back seemed much shorter. The tourists helicopters showed up though, buzzing the waterfall from above. Once we’d pushed off the crowded beach the paddle back was great and offered the most freedom of the day, though there was wind which slowed down several in our group. On the way I added a final island bird to my trip list— a snowy egret!
—John Lane