"I need a whole day of snorkeling," I told Dave. "I absolutely need it." On October 25, 2016, we took a five-hour snorkeling tour down the Kona coast. We made three stops, including Kealakekua Bay, the spot where Captain Cook was killed by native Hawaiians in 1794 (or so).
Our boat was a low-slung rubber raft with a big motor, fast enough to zip down the coast, but shallow-hulled and low enough to fit into sea caves, and to be easy for snorkelers to climb in and out of.
Our skipper was a charming fellow who lived for boating. He had piloted a sailboat to Fiji, and he traded boating stories with a couple from Seattle, who went sailing in the San Juans.
Boats cannot dock in Kaleakekua Bay, but we snorkeled on the reef near the Captain Cook Monument, with the boat anchored offshore.
Part of the fun was hanging on for dear life as the boat careened, at top speed, to our snorkeling spots. (The photos below are thanks to Google. You will search in vain for me in my swimsuit.)
There are sea caves all along the coast, and our skipper maneuvered us into several of them.
We followed turtles as they swam, purposefully, along the reefs.
The fish were bright and prolific at Kealakekua Bay and our other snorkeling spots.
Dave and I planned to sightsee all afternoon, but we were so tired when we got back to our condo, that we took long naps, instead. We thought we had slathered ourselves adequately with sunscreen, but we ended up with lobster backs, anyway, worn proudly as evidence of our extra-fun adventure. We snorkeled on the Kona coast thirty years ago. If we wait another thirty years to return, will we still be able to snorkel? I do hope so.
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