Editor’s note: This story originally ran in May 2023 before a series of wild fires broke out a few months later in August in the state of Hawaii, predominantly causing devastation in Maui. It has been edited to reflect, among other things, that one of the best restaurants on the island, Lahaina Grill, on Front Street in Lahaina, burned to the ground. Tourism is a huge part of the local economy and the reasons to make the journey to Hawaii still ring true.
I signed up for a sunrise canoe trip. It turned out to be so much more.
We paddled across crystalline waters, and I broke a sweat as the beaming sun rose over Mauna Kea on the Big Island. But the 12 of us – the others strangers to me before we met at the surf shack at Auberge Resorts Mauna Lani – who boarded the double-hulled canoe in the blue hour had no idea of the spiritual embrace we were about to experience. Our leader for this adventure called himself Uncle George, and he stood at the front of the boat and spoke to me in a way few people ever have.
“Everybody thought this was a boat ride, right?” he said even before we made our first stroke. “Never think that you were going to really get in touch with yourself. We’re going to help you folks get in touch with yourself, listening not with this ear but with the inner ear that touches the heart that makes you feel like you’re in the belly.
“We’re going out in the ocean and we’re at the mercy of the ocean. We ask the ocean to invite us in, and now we can take these cuffs and shed them off and work on that word, vulnerability, and be open to everything that we’re exposed to – the moon, the sun, the sky, the water. What a wonderful way to start the day, guys. We didn’t even go in the ocean yet. Everybody put a hand on the canoe. Let’s see where she takes us.”
Maui
Getting to the most remote island group in the world – the Hawaiian Islands are separated from the U.S. mainland by more than 2,000 miles – was a big ask for my nearly 2-year-old daughter, but she feasted on snacks and watched her favorite show, CoComelon, and handled the nine-hour direct flight with Mama and me from Atlanta to Maui on Christmas Day 2022 like a champ.
The sacred lands of Ka’anapali were once called home to the Royal Chiefs of Maui. The home of our week-long family vacation was built on the West Maui Mountains at the westernmost point of the island along nearly three miles of sun-kissed beach. At the Hyatt Regency Maui Resort and Spa, we were greeted with leis of purple vandal orchids around our necks, and my daughter squealed with glee at the sight of the exotic parrots and South African penguins in the palatial open-air lobby.
Sitting at breakfast the next morning, my wife leaned over and said the setting was “enchanting.” I couldn’t have agreed with her more. Add in the fact that we checked out from the world for a bit, sipping drinks at the swim-up Grotto Bar, lounging in hammocks and eating decadent desserts such as Hula pie, we might say life was good. We usually detest being charged resort fees but these were actually worth it, with all the amenities included such as towel service and the complimentary pineapple delivered to our cabana. You can’t buy Maui Gold pineapples in the U.S. anymore, so eat up and consider bringing a box back with you. For much of these days, our daughter was living her best life at the kiddie pool, and it often took bribing her with homemade tropical flavors from a poolside outpost of Ululani’s Hawaiian Shave Ice to get her to take a break.
There are several delicious restaurants on property – Japengo, which hangs over the pool, wins for sushi and setting – but our favorite meal was at Drums of the Pacific, the on-site luau, a tasty way to experience a time-honored island tradition. The performers tell the story of Polynesian culture and history through music, song and dance. Samoan slap dances, Tahitian drum dances and the closing fire-knife dance are all presented in an informative and spell-binding narrative at an amphitheater beneath the stars while guests feast on a sumptuous buffet. Months later, my daughter instinctively dances the hula whenever we mention Hawaii and loves to rewatch videos from the performance.
While travelers come for the sunshine, turquoise water and endless golden sandy beaches, their golf clubs come, too. I only slipped away for one dew-sweeping round while the family was in tow. Royal Ka’anapali was the first golf course on Maui, a Robert Trent Jones Sr. design that opened in 1962 with Bing Crosby playing in the inaugural foursome. Short by today’s standards, it has an abundance of wide bunkers, and the large, fearsome greens built into the contours of the land along with tricky trade winds have ensured it stands the test of time. The wind doesn’t discriminate but tends to kick up in the afternoon when you’re better off hitting it knee-high to a snake. The Royal Ka’anapali Course takes you oceanside, then brings you into the West Maui Mountain foothills, where the views are equally spectacular.
The par-4 fifth hole is a 474-yard dogleg-left from the tips. The approach calls for a mid- to long iron, with three bunkers protecting the green. Although there is a narrow runway between all of that sand, beware of the biggest bunker of all: May’s Beach. To the right of the green, you come upon a spectacular view of the ocean and Black Rock, a sheltered cove with clear water that’s popular for snorkeling amid scores of colorful fish as well as green sea turtles, manta rays and monk seals. By day, I watched tourists do backflips from the rock’s summit. The nearby Sheraton Hotel bids the sun farewell in a cliff-lighting ceremony at sunset on a nightly basis. I was more comfortable standing at the water’s edge and watching as a diver climbed the rocks and lit torches before tossing a lei into the water and diving in after it.
The par-5 ninth marks the highest elevation on the course and is a great place during whale season (Dec. 1–May 15) to see humpbacks, those giant mammals of the sea, breaching in the ocean, while the par-4 18th is one of Hawaii’s best finishing holes. A more forgiving option at Ka’anapali is the shorter Kai Course, also designed by Jones.
Ka’anapali’s 19th hole is the internationally renowned Roy’s, a Maui fixture for 30 years featuring celebrated chef Roy Yamaguchi. Here my wife and I chowed down on a Hawaiian specialty, Loco Moco, a heaping plate of sunny-side-up eggs served over a hamburger patty and rice, all doused in brown gravy.
Hawaii is home to people from all corners of the planet. They’ve brought their rich cultural histories and time-honored family recipes to create what’s known as local cuisine. Chef Joey Macadangdang has been on Maui for more than 20 years and was the head corporate chef for Roy’s before opening his own restaurant, Joey’s Kitchen, at Whaler’s Village in Ka’anapali Beach. As Chef Joey likes to say, Hawaii is a melting pot and in that pot several unique styles of food synthesize and simmer. The result? A richly diverse plethora of food derived from Japanese, Portuguese, Filipino and Chinese influences.
While on the subject of food, I practically ate my weight in poke, finely diced raw tuna, one of the staples of the Hawaiian culinary tradition (pronounced poh-kay, not poh-kee). Kris Strauss, an executive with Troon Golf who was born and raised on Oahu, drafted an email that served as my travel guide, including the suggestion to go to Tamura’s Fine Wine and Liquors store, not so much for alcohol but to buy poke. “The store sells poke and alcohol,” he wrote. “How good is that?”
It was really good, and even better once we took our bowls and beers and lounged at Kapalua Bay.
Combined, I spent close to two weeks on Maui, returning for a second stint during the week of the PGA Tour’s Sentry Tournament of Champions, setting up shop at the Ritz-Carlton – aka tournament central – perched on a knoll above D.T. Fleming Beach. The lobby opens to an expansive lanai with sweeping views of a three-tier pool and Honokahua Bay. A $100-million renovation was completed in late 2022, and my room received a refresh along with its own fire pit on the patio.
In the mid-1970’s, Kapalua underwent a transformation from a working pineapple plantation to a luxury resort destination. When I returned to Maui for the PGA Tour event, there was only one way I’d get a chance to play the course during my visit – in the pro-am, and what a treat that was alongside Honda Classic winner Sepp Straka. Not even two squalls during our round, the only liquid sunshine I experienced on my trip, could dampen my mood, and the rainbow over Kapalua made it worth it.
Locals call the Plantation Course the Planet, and it is an otherworldly experience. Architects Ben Crenshaw and Bill Coore found the par-5 18th, a hole that nature herself modeled, and built the rest of the course around it. The Plantation Course plays fast and firm, with little rough. The fairways are as wide as football fields are long, and its large dramatic greens slope from front to back. It’s one of the windiest courses you’ll ever play.
If watching the pros play here every January hasn’t already placed this course on your bucket list, you need to get your head checked. It’s as good as advertised, ranked No. 2 in Hawaii on Golfweek’s Best ranking of public-access courses in each state. It also ranks No. 40 among all modern courses in the U.S.
Lahaina retains its late 19th- and early 20th-century architectural charm. This was once the whaling capital of the Pacific and the cultural center of the Hawaiian Islands. It has long been the quintessential beach tourist town, brimming with bars, restaurants, galleries and souvenir shops along Front Street, which was overtaken by the wildfires. The center of activity was huddled near a century-old Banyan tree stretching several blocks, not far from the harbor, and this area will need to be rebuilt.
Arnold Palmer designed Kapalua’s first course, The Bay Course, in 1975, which is more forgiving than the Plantation. From the third hole I looked out at the water and could see whales in the distance. At the par-3 15th, make sure to take a picture at the green with the ocean in the background; it could be your next holiday card or new Facebook profile pic. Either way, your friends will be jealous. Say your prayers at No. 17, one of five par 3s, which demands a carry over Oneloa Bay. It’s where land, water and nerve converge. Come for the Plantation, but the Bay may be the real charmer – it was for me.
Kauai
When my wife and daughter headed home on New Year’s Eve, I began my island-hopping golf adventure with a short flight to the oldest isle of the chain, branded the Garden Isle, and known in Hawaiian lore as the birthplace of the rainbow.
The lush landscape of Kauai, which was created by a single massive volcano rising three miles from the ocean floor, is striking and is noted as the most beautiful of all the Hawaiian Islands.
I spent two enjoyable nights at the Royal Sonesta Kaua’i Resort Lihue, conveniently located a par 5 away from the airport – make three lefts and you’re checking in. This former Marriott property is set above a quarter-mile stretch of Kalapaki Beach with an assortment of pools, and I rang in the New Year with a delicious dinner at the hotel’s signature restaurant, Duke’s Canoe Club, named for Duke Kahanamoku, the father of Hawaiian surfing.
The next morning I took a scenic 40-minute drive to my tee time, passing Heelia Beach in Kealia. Located along Kauai’s North Shore, Princeville Makai Golf Club – ranked No. 4 among public-access courses in Hawaii – opened in 1971 as the first solo effort of course architect Robert Trent Jones Jr. At the time it was very avant-garde to build on an old lava flow. RTJ II keeps a second home there and calls Kauai “the Phoenix by the ocean,” for its predictable weather. In 2009 and 2010, the course was completely renovated by Jones Jr., introducing new Seashore Paspalum turf grass on all fairways and greens. I was paired with a father and his teenage son from Northern California, who thought it was the most scenic course they’d ever seen.
I was smitten, too, especially when we arrived at the third hole, a drop-down par 3 to a jungle lagoon, which looked like a scene out of Jurassic Park. Four holes later, the stunning view of mountains and the bay from the tee was next level. Several of the back-nine holes are played along Anini Reef, the second-longest active reef in the world. Nos. 12 and 13 are exceptional in their own right but the 14th, the reef hole, is a drivable par 4 if you can cross the bunkers to the green sitting on the edge of a cliff. There is a legend that a mermaid swims about the inlet, and if you find the water she will retrieve your ball and return it to you. No need for me, as I smashed a beauty onto the putting surface. We won’t talk about my three-putt but nevertheless, this may be my new favorite drivable par 4 I’ve ever played.
I was advised to have dinner at Hanalei Dolphin Restaurant located below the Hanalei River before driving back to my hotel, but I forgot to consult my notes until later that night and settled for a burger at the pool bar. But put it on your to-do list. You also would be wise to explore the Na Pali Coast, which stretches 16 miles along the northwest side of Kauai.
The next morning I made the short walk to the Ocean Course at Hokuala, which translates to Rising Star. You may remember it by its former name – Kauai Lagoons – as I do from the previous time I played it. I met Tom Freestone, the course’s director of operations, who moved to Kauai from Alaska after graduating from school. What once was 36 holes was down to nine for a stretch as the resort suffered through tough times. It has reemerged stronger as 18 holes and should be in good hands with Freestone in charge. He did a traditional Hawaiian blessing ceremony at the 14th hole, promising to be a good steward when he assumed leadership of the course, and he has embraced the Hawaiian traditions. “I tell everyone I meet, come as Hawaii’s guest and you will get the secrets of this place; come as Hawaii’s customer and you’ll get an ordinary experience.”
Hokuala’s incoming nine is worth crossing an ocean to play, as is the marlin sandwich at the turn. The par-3 14th sits on a clifftop perch, the waves lashing the rocks. Below the green is a black sand beach littered with golf balls, including one of mine. The 16th captures both the strategic challenge and the aesthetics of the property to the fullest. Golfers tee off from an ocean cliff to a blind fairway, then down to a triangular-shaped tide-pool green flanked by a lava promontory and a lighthouse on the left. It is 330 yards from the tips, but Nawiliwili Harbor to the left and a steep hillside to the right make this a fun risk-reward hole.
I ate both lunch and dinner at Hualani’s, a canoe-to-farm-to-table restaurant – the 13th hole on the sister course has been converted to a farm. According to the menu, a fisherman named Shannon Planas had caught the octopus in Kealia that was grilled to perfection and worthy of a chef’s kiss.
After lunch, I made the short drive to Kukuiolono Park & Golf Course, which is home to one of the most scenic driving ranges in golf. It’s otherwise your scruffy nine-hole muni with lots of character and firm push-up greens. I joined a local husband-wife twosome mid-round, and they told me that it cost $200 for a year-long pass. They played enough that they figured it cost them 67 cents per round in 2022. Golf needs more places like this.
Lanai
Hawaii’s most secluded island once was the state’s largest pineapple plantation until the 1990s, when it reinvented itself as a tourist destination. Oracle co-founder and billionaire Larry Ellison bought Lanai in 2012 and has pumped big bucks into high-end upgrades, such as opening a Nobu restaurant that features Japanese fusion comparable to Roy’s.
During the second round of the Tournament of Champions, I played hooky and took a ferry to Lanai – I counted at least a half dozen whale spouts on the 40-minute ride – with a single purpose: to play the much-ballyhooed Four Seasons Resort Lanai Manele Golf Course, located on the cliffs above Hulopo’e and ranked as the No. 1 public-access layout in Hawaii as well as tied for No. 33 among all modern courses in the U.S. The view from the clubhouse at the Jack Nicklaus design might be the worst you see all day – and it’s spectacular. Beware of the beauty lulling you into making bogeys. It’s an ongoing joke that first-timers are blown away by the front nine and can’t believe that the back is even better – but it is. The 10th isn’t going to be the one that takes your breath away, but it starts with a blind tee shot that my playing companion made me feel better about by saying, “You can land a jumbo jet in this fairway.” When Brad Ford, a low-handicap golfer from Utah and a course rater with another golf magazine who joined my group, tugged his drive, he cursed his shot and said, “I hope that 747 is extra wide.” When his ball was nowhere to be found, he proclaimed it was “Free Drop Friday,” which is definitely going to be a new local rule of mine and may make Friday my new favorite golf day.
But the real eye candy was still to come. The 12th is a par 3 with a tee shot over cliffs and pounding surf below, and No. 16, a par 4 sweeping right with a fairway seemingly as wide as a slice of bacon and cliffs of doom lurking to ensure any slice suffers a watery grave.
Arrange for a tee time that allows you to enjoy lunch at Views, the club’s restaurant. The name is apropos, as it is not lacking in the views department.
Big Island
After Jon Rahm rallied to win at Kapalua, I continued my island hopping, jetting to Ellison Onizuka Kona International Airport in Keahole, the Big Island’s westernmost point, where the runway is surrounded by licorice-black lava and golden fountain grass. The Big Island is the youngest and largest of the 1,500-mile-long Hawaiian archipelago and built from five shield volcanoes – Mauna Loa, Kohala, Mauna Kea, Hualalai and Kilauea, including the only two active volcanoes among the Hawaiian Islands (Mauna Loa and Kilauea). I immediately noticed the sky was hazy due to what the locals call vog, a smog made of volcanic gas and smoke that is present whenever there’s an active eruption. Mauna Loa’s crater had just erupted again.
A friend flew in from San Francisco to join me on my remaining golf adventures, which continued at the Four Seasons Resort Hualalai on the Kona Coast. Surrounded by silky white sand and sapphire blue waters, the resort is home to a Jack Nicklaus design that is a longtime host to the Mitsubishi Electric Championship on PGA Tour Champions. The Hualalai course, ranked No. 5 among public-access layouts in Hawaii, is open to members and resort guests and is one of the most user-friendly Nicklaus courses I’ve experienced. Carved from black lava, it won’t beat you up and there are several postcard-worthy holes, including the par-3 17th, and the fast pace of play is tough to beat.
The Four Seasons is an unobtrusive oasis of low-rise town houses – think Hawaiian plantation-chic with outdoor lava-rock showers – clustered around seven oceanside swimming pools. One of the top highlights of the trip and reason alone to stay at this Four Seasons is King’s Pond, a 1.8-million-gallon outdoor aquarium stocked with more than a thousand tropical fish, and guests can snorkel among them. Damselfish hovered close to their favorite coral head while parrot fish in green, yellow and orange darted in and out. It was like an underwater psychedelic dream.
At Ulu Ocean Grill that night, we enjoyed sashimi, nigiri and poke and overshot the expense account, but it was well worth it. My friend and I agreed that one day wasn’t enough to experience all that Hualalai had to offer.
I rose early the next day and drove to the Kohala Coast and checked in to the Mauna Lani Auberge Resorts Collection. In days past, warrior kings came to these parts to rest and recuperate. Today, the resort’s luxurious bungalows, suites and gathering spaces set the stage for a transformative experience. After a $200-million renovation and more than a year’s closure, the 30-acre reimagined oceanfront resort debuted in 2020. A sophisticated blend of Hawaiian culture and subtle, modern designs include a bamboo forest, wooden platforms and Hawaiian-inspired murals that add charm to the stunning view of the open-air living room of a lobby overlooking an oceanfront pool.
Architect Robin Nelson took Mauna Lani’s original 18 and added nine holes to each, creating the North (No. 7 among public-access courses in Hawaii) and the South (No. 12). I played the South, which hosted the Senior Skins Game and snakes through the stark, rugged prehistoric Kaniku lava, offering panoramic views. When I mentioned some of the drop-dead gorgeous par 3s I already played on my trip, Ross Birch, the affable director of golf at Mauna Lani, said, “Wait until you see our par 3 over here.” The seventh didn’t disappoint, and when I told him I was duly impressed, he responded, “That’s not even our scenic par 3.”
Indeed, the 15th framed by palm trees and sand plays over a cove of Iliilinaehehe Bay. It is one of the most photographed over-the-water holes in the world.
That night we dined at beachfront CanoeHouse, which offered decadent Japanese-inspired dishes such as Wagyu warayaki torched at the table.
Oahu
Oahu is known as the “gathering spot” for good reason – it’s the home of the state government, the financial and business center and nearly three-quarters of the state population. It isn’t exactly known for its golf. There’s Turtle Bay Resort, a Robert Trent Jones Jr. design on the North Shore, and Ko Olina Golf Club, a Ted Robinson design that has hosted the LPGA in the past. But I couldn’t squeeze those in while covering the PGA Tour’s Sony Open in Hawaii at Waialae Country Club, a private Seth Raynor gem that would be worth calling in a favor for a tee time.
I finished my trip in Waikiki, located in the southeastern quarter of the city and one of the most famous destinations in the world. I stayed at the Royal Hawaiian, the Pink Palace of the Pacific, in the heart of Waikiki Beach, a narrow, 1½-mile-long crescent of sand at the foot of a string of high-rise hotels, shops, restaurants and endless entertainment. During the day the beaches are awash in aquatic activities as surfers paddle between catamarans, canoes paddle around snorkelers and swimmers jostle into each other. The 562-room Royal Hawaiian opened in 1927, and even if you stay elsewhere make sure to hit up the Mai Tai Bar, just feet from the sand.
With my flight home looming, I met a friend for malasadas, a pastry dough fried until the crust is golden brown while the inside remains fluffy and light. Long ago the descendants of Portuguese laborers brought them to work in Hawaii’s sugarcane fields. For these hole-less doughnuts rolled in sugar, you’ve got to go to Leonard’s Bakery, an institution in Waikiki dating to 1952. Leonard’s is known for its sweet-toasted flavor, both crunchy and chewy.
Finding parking can be a chore and we bought way too many – original, cinnamon and Li Hing, which is sweet and sour – to sample. I devoured a fresh one on the ride back to the hotel and offered a few to the hotel staff as I departed, but we still had a dozen left for the ride. We took a slow, zig-zagging scenic drive on Kamehameha Highway along the coast, stopping at Sunset Beach, a surfing mecca, to watch the pipeline’s big waves rush in. We even found takers for the remaining malasadas. When we parked, my friend held the box in his hand as the driver that parked next to us got out of his car and shut his door. “Whoa, you went to Leonard’s? Those are the best,” he said.
We became BFF’s when we passed on our goodies to the driver and his passengers. That’s part of the aloha spirit.
Aloha is all-encompassing and so foundational to the Hawaiian way of thinking that it’s hard to put into words. It can be used as a verb, a noun, an adjective and everything in between. Most people think it means hello and goodbye, but it’s much deeper than that. Those words come from the mouth, but aloha comes from the heart. It’s an emotion, a way of being, a spiritual principle with deep cultural roots. It’s rooted in love and an integral part of the daily fabric of Hawaiian life.
Back on the boat with Uncle George
The sunrise during my canoeing adventure was spectacular – orange and pinkish rays of color broke through the cloud cover and Mauna Kea, the tallest sea mountain in the world, loomed large in the distance.
“What a sight to see,” Uncle George said.
We paddled hard as he illuminated to us how Hawaii’s history and culture are rife with grounding lessons that have helped Hawaiians live more fulfilling lives for thousands of years. Aloha, he said, was the coordination of mind and heart within each person. He called it Hawaii’s gift to the world. Aloha is your sixth sense, he said, it is in there in everyone – “you just need to tap into yours,” he added. You feel it in the warmth of the sun, in the trade winds caressing your skin, in the sand between your toes, in the fragrance of a plumeria lei.
“Now, let’s take it nice and easy, we’ll get to our destination,” he said. “Remember, it’s a journey we’re on. Let’s enjoy the journey. You folks watch the sky change while I chant, ‘He Mu Oia.’ When I say, ‘He Mu,’ let it go, whatever you have. The stuff that weighs you down? Let the ocean have it.”
The sky brightened and we turned the canoe back to shore as Uncle George preached that the land is chief; people are its servants. If we take care of the land, the land will take care of us. The canoe drifted into an area he described as a spiritual vortex.
“What a wonderful way to start the day, don’t you think?” Uncle George said. “Grab the water, wash your cheeks, taste the salt. Let the salt solidify what we’ve done in this ceremony and let us all be well seasoned.”
Uncle George breathed deeply into a conch shell. The haunting drone pierced the air. He turned to me and said, “How do you feel, brother?”
“I feel very relaxed,” I said. “Very reflective. Peaceful.”
Uncle George said his work here was done. “You’re full to the belly with the spiritual stuff,” he said with a smile, not knowing that I was supping on all the dishes Hawaii’s restaurants offer.
It was a final reminder that Hawaii is so much more than a beautiful paradise. Uncle George’s parting words to me were a favorite Hawaiian saying that I had to look up but that sum up my feeling about island-hopping around the Hawaiian Islands: A hui hou … until the next time we meet.
