Molokai by mule

  • Story and photos by Sue Frause / Special to The Herald
  • Friday, April 9, 2004 9:00pm
  • LifeGo-See-Do

The green and white bumper sticker glared at me: "Wouldn’t you rather be riding a mule on Molokai?"

I don’t usually respond to stickers, but I blurted out, "No!"

Why would I want to go for a mule ride when I could be sipping mai tais on the beach? More importantly, the idea of riding a mule down a 1,700-foot cliff was totally terrifying.

First off, I’m not a horse lover. But here I was at the mule barn mingling with nine other rookie riders in the cool Molokai uplands, preparing to descend some of the highest sea cliffs in the world.

"I can’t do this," I said to my husband.

"You’ll be fine," he said reassuringly.

Ironically, while flying from the island of Lanai to Molokai the day before, I was seated next to Buzzy Sproat, co-owner of the Molokai Mule Ride. The ruggedly handsome paniolo (Hawaiian for cowboy), laughed when I told him about my fear of riding a mule.

"You’ll be fine," said the Kenny Rogers look-alike.

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Our destination was a three-mile descent to Kalaupapa National Historical Park, the historic Hansen’s disease settlements of Kalaupapa and Kalawao.

Ever since I had written a report on leprosy in seventh grade, I’d had a fascination with the disease and the colony on Molokai. Today, the only access to the park and its settlements is via mule, on foot by way of the Molokai Mule Ride or small plane.

Once we had all signed the necessary paperwork, three young muleskinners (guides) rounded up our mules and Sproat gave us an overview of the trip and then assigned us to our long eared friends.

"What’s his name?" I asked Sproat, as I met my mule for the first time.

"Cliff Jumper!" he said.

Everybody laughed, I groaned and soon I was in the saddle with Buster Brown.

For the next 90 minutes I gripped Buster’s reins as we made the steep descent down the cliff, which includes 26 switchbacks and precarious peeks at the Pacific Ocean ("Buster, do you have to get so close to the edge?").

Finally, we’re on flat land, but I’m already fretting about the return trip ("Don’t worry, it’s a lot easier and faster than going down," says one of the muleskinners).

We spend the next several hours bouncing around on the dirt roads in a funky old blue Damien Tours bus (we were joined by people who had arrived by plane). Our guide is Richard Marks, a 75-year-old leprosy survivor who still lives in Kalaupapa. He explains the two tragedies that occurred here on the north shore of Molokai: the removal of indigenous people in 1865 and 1895 and the forced isolation of sick people to this remote place from 1866 to 1969.

Today, Kalaupapa is home to many of the surviving Hansen’s disease patients, and we pass by the infirmary, patients’ housing and stop at a memorial to Father Damien (known as the "Martyr of Molokai," he succumbed to leprosy in 1889 at the age of 49).

Our picnic lunch is in Kalawao, overlooking a cove where portions of the movies "Hawaii" and "Jurassic Park III" were filmed. Now a ghost town, Kalawao is the site of St. Philomena Church (Father Damien’s church) and his grave.

Surrounding us are the North Shore pali, sea cliffs that vault straight up for 3,000 feet, the tallest on earth.

As we clamber back onto the bus, I’m relieved to be returning on a mule rather than making the three-mile trek on foot (five on our tour are hiking instead of riding). And my muleskinner was right; the ascent was much quicker (60 minutes) and easier than going down. Buster and I did just fine and I was rewarded with one of those green and white bumper stickers (it’s going on the family pickup) and a certificate of accomplishment (it’s going on my wall).

Molokai is the fifth largest island in the Hawaiian chain, located between Oahu and Maui. With only 6,700 people, it’s a laid-back place where you’ll be greeted at the airport with the sign: "Slow Down, This is Molokai." And be forewarned, many places are closed on Sundays.

Kaunakakai is the largest town, home to Kanemitsu Bakery, famous for its okole bread, a sweet Hawaiian bread. To get it fresh out of the oven show up in the alley after 10:30 p.m. and knock on the back door.

Kamoi Snack and Go features Dave’s Ice Cream, with such exotic flavors as lychee, green tea and coconut. Molokai Drugs, a family drugstore since 1935, has the best selection of Hawaiian books on the island. Molokai Fish &Dive carries cool custom T-shirts designed by owner Jim Brocker. There’s a farmers market on Saturdays across the street from the library and May 15 is the 13th Annual Molokai Ka Hula Piko Festival (Molokai is the home of the hula).

Two miles out of town is the retro Hotel Molokai, a Polynesian-style waterfront hotel (good choice for dinner) that features local musicians and hula dancers at 4 p.m. every Friday. Enjoy puu puus (appetizers) in the outdoor bar during the "pau hana" (happy hour).

We decided to do the camping routine on Molokai … well, sort of camping.

The Lodge and Beach Village at Molokai Ranch is in Maunaloa on west Molokai. The 64,000-acre Molokai Ranch, the second-largest working ranch in Hawaii, was formerly owned by King Kamahameha V as well as a number of pineapple companies.

Today, the 22-room lodge and beach village are part of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World (www.slh.com) collection, and our tent was definitely on the luxurious side.

Nestled among swaying palms on Kaupoa Beach are 40 two-bedroom canvas bungalows (called tentalows) on platform decks. Each unit has two separate bedrooms with either a queen or twin beds. There is an open-air bathroom with sink, composting toilet and shower (solar power provides hot water and lights in the evening). Lounge chairs and a covered picnic table are on the deck and daily maid service means you don’t have to make your bed.

Meals are served in the oceanfront and open-air Kaupoa Dining Pavilion (bring your own wine), and a camp host can arrange for a variety of activities including snorkeling, ocean kayaking or cultural hiking.

Sorry, Buster Brown. I’d rather be watching a sunset on Molokai.

Sue Frause is a Whidbey Island freelance writer and photographer. She may be reached at skfrause@whidbey.com.

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