Read 4 Kaua'i Me a River for Free Online Page A

on a few inches on vacation, take
heart. You’ll be wearing this baby around your waist for the entire flight
today. When the ride’s over and you take it off you’re gonna feel so skinny
you’ll feel like ordering both the mac salad and rice with your lunch.”  
    The briefing went on like that
for about ten minutes. Then we trooped out to the van and the guy drove us to a
helipad at the edge of the Lihue airport tarmac. I looked up and hoped the
helicopter pilot was as mindful of the planes swooping by overhead as I was.
    The briefing guy gave us each a
number so we could be seated according to weight. Back at the tour office a potential
female passenger who my Auntie Mana would’ve described as an ‘ ali’i -sized
girl’ had expressed dismay at being asked to step on a scale.
    “No worries,” said the equally ali’i -sized
gal working behind the desk. “See? There’s no numbers on the scale.”
    She was right. The read-out was
discretely positioned so only the gal behind the desk could see how much each
person weighed. She’d assigned the seats accordingly and now we were taking our
positions alongside the helicopter.
    I got number five and Hatch was
six. I figured that meant we’d be in the back since the helicopter only held six
passengers. But as they loaded everyone in, it soon became clear we’d be
sitting in front. I was positioned next to the pilot. The large bubble window
gave me a perfect one-eighty view.
    “Welcome aboard,” the pilot said
as we got in and put on our headsets. I slipped into my shoulder harness and
clipped on my seat belt.
    “Hey,” I said. “Good to be
here.” But then I realized no one could hear me. Only the pilot had a mic on
his headset. The passenger voices were lost in the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of the slowly turning rotors.
    When the bird lifted off, I
remembered how effortless flying in a helicopter felt. The pilot said it would
feel like riding a magic carpet. I thought that sounded a little too cute, but
kept it to myself. He said if we had questions to use the handheld mics in
front of us. There was one in the front and one in the back. We flew up and over
the resorts of Poipu. The pilot asked each couple where they were staying and
he pointed out each resort from the air.
    We flew into brilliant green
canyons cut deep with sheer cliffs on all sides. As we shot up the cliff sides
to get into the next canyon I found myself lifting my toes to help the
helicopter clear the treetops.
    Waterfalls and rainbows popped
into view as we glided in and out of the canyons. Even though I’d scoffed at
the pilot’s ‘magic carpet’ remark, I was starting to agree.
    We approached the North Shore
and I peered down at the beach bordered by deep green jungle and tried to find
a recognizable landmark. I picked up the handheld mic and pushed the ‘talk’
button.
    “Have you ever heard of Taylor
Camp?” I said.
    “Sure,” said the pilot. “It’s
pretty much gone now, but back in the seventies a bunch of hippies lived up
there. They built amazing tree houses. The guy who owned the land, Howard
Taylor, was the brother of actress Elizabeth Taylor.”
    “Isn’t it around here
somewhere?” I said into the mic.
    “Yep, hold on.”
    He pulled the joystick back and
left and the helicopter wheeled into a tight turn. Even with my headset on and
the rotors roaring I could hear the people in the back go, “Whoa” as my stomach
lurched with the turn.
    “It’s right down there. Do you
see that stretch of sand? That’s Ke’e Beach Park. Taylor’s Camp was around
there somewhere. I think if you want to see it, the trail’s still visible. But I’m
not sure. I’ve never been up there.”
    We swooped over a cluster of
buildings and homes set along a wide bay. “That’s the little town of Hanalei
down there,” said the pilot. “Anybody know what Hanalei’s known for?”
    I let someone else get credit
for knowing about “Puff the Magic Dragon.”
    The pilot nodded. “Yeah,