Arizona

Friday morning we got up nice and early and made our way to the USS Arizona Memorial over at Pearl Harbor. Brandon and Amy met us there. The Memorial, which is part of the National Park Service, opened at 7:30. At that time, there was a nice long line stretching around the courtyard. Basically what happens is the line moves quickly and you get a specific time to board the boat to head out to the Memorial. In the mean time, you can wait in line for food (which does move slower than HersheyPark lines) check out the gift shop or walk around and read all about Pearl Harbor.
 
The Memorial is out in the Harbor, so you take the boat, hop off and walk in. It's not a large memorial, as it simply straddles the sunken hull of the USS Arizona. There are names of those who died during the attack and a handy chart explaining what exactly you're looking at sticking above the water under the Memorial.
  
 
 
 
One of the exposed parts of the USS Arizona.
 

 
Things weren't too warm early in the morning, and the light was much better. There is (as seen by the flag) always a breeze blowing, which helps take the edge off.
 

 
  Because of President Reagan's death, the flag was at half staff that day. Which made it very easy to photograph. Like many places on Oahu, we were able to see a rainbow while on the Memorial, although I didn't get a picture of it.


 
Brandon: "Well, I took a bunch of photos when we were driving over here, so I thought, if I play them all backward, I'll be able to find my way back home. Honey, you didn't delete those, did you? Oh, crap."
 

 
 

 
  The boat over to the Memorial had a simple requirement. That everyone be seated for the trip. Since the boat was completely full on the way over, I, along with the others, naturally thought that it would be packed on the way back. So why are people standing in line to go back? "Hurry up and start relaxing." Turns out that there was a group of annoying girls (in yellow t-shirts) who took up too many seats on the boat. Brandon, Amy, Nelms and Emily all had to wait for the next boat, since we were the last ones in line.


 
All the names. There is also a short video presentation that we viewed before getting on the boat. A veteran of Pearl Harbor gave us an introduction and talked to us about, among other things,  the many brothers who died together. They were easy to spot on the wall at the Memorial.
 

 
 

 
  They had an audio tour available, although Adam discovered that it wasn't really working.

Fire

So before we get into the trip to the USS Arizona Memorial on Friday, let's jump to Saturday morning. We're sitting up at Quizno's (it was on the second floor of a building, very close to the hotels) and what do we see across the street but some honest-to-goodness Dumpster fireage. The kid on the left was rather curious and would often walk to the smoldering flame to look in, essentially fanning it and giving it a good dose of life. And, of course, it eventually got to be about 10 feet tall, so he decided to step back a bit. We, as per psychology class, joined the many others who witnessed the fire but didn't do anything. By the time we thought 'well, maybe now it's a bit out of hand,' the Quiznoartist had already called the fire brigade.

They showed up after a few minutes and drowned the Dumpster something fierce. We took video of this entire event, thank-you-very-much. And photos later that night of the roast.
 
 

Brandon's Old House

Saturday we decided that we had had enough of the beaches in Waikiki and perhaps there were better, less crowded ones on the island. Brandon came through, telling us that we should come up to Kailua to visit him, see his apartment and his old place as well. We went to a little festival near Brandon's apartment in Kailua and then he showed us the former bachelor pad. Some of his friends were still living there, hence the access. The house was nice, although you could certainly tell it was being rented.

But none of that was the point. It was house, backyard, beach. And that was very impressive. We swam around in the ocean for a while before heading back home, convinced that we needed to find someone who was really rich who had a place like that we could use anytime.

Brandon, acting as a tourguide. If you know Brandon, you'll realize why that's scarier than driving with me.



Walking back from the little festival in Kailua. Things were wrapping up when we got there, which basically meant we got free water-ice type stuff (although Brandon managed to sneak a couple bucks to the Boy Scout troop trying to raise money.) Good job Brandon. Just about made up for getting lost on the 5-block walk back to the apartment.



The view from the beach at Brandon's old house. The one of the right is off-limits, although you can kayak and/or ambitiously swim to the one of the left.



Let's see, wake up, walk downstairs, pour some orange juice, walk out to backyard in barefeet. Not a bad deal.

Forget about the order

I've decided, what the heck, I'll just post photos and you can kind of figure out the sequence of the trip. Here's certainly a few from the start, including Walz, below, on the fun hike up to Diamond Head. The sky is always that blue, the grass always that green, and the water (in other photos) always that warm and inviting.



The first trip to the beach was through the little bar in the Royal Hawaiian, a huge pink hotel. Like most of the other hotels on the beach, it had no doors at all. Just walk in, walk through. The store fronts are available to the elements, which basically consist of warm breezes and sporadic drizzles. We later found a more elegant way to the beach (instead of cutting through people eating dinner) but we used this particular path a good two days before that bit of sense hit us.



Walz, Erinn and Emily act all nonchalant right before grabbing Adam and hauling him headfirst into the ocean.



Waikiki beachfront. As the afternoon wears on, the tourists begin to head home. The weather doesn't change too much, though, so it doesn't really matter. And really, would being in the ocean during the sunset be such a bad thing? Uh, no.



As we waited in line for the Cheesecake factory on the first evening, Adam struck a pose with one of the local flowers.



Just like NYC and Philly, there are plenty of street acts. The man dressed in newspapers is no exception. However, he didn't seem to be the type who lashed out at you if you say, took his picture and then didn't give him money. I took two, actually. There was also a newspaper dog, but after repeated kicking, we determined that it was fake. Come to think of it, this guy would be really screwed if you threw your cigarette in his general direction.