Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea

And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honalee.                                      Peter Yarrow and Leonard Lipton

The origin of the “land called Honalee” remains a mystery today, but many, including the saleswoman who sold me the book, believe it is Hanalei, Kauai, a magical land in its own right. From Hanalei Beach, the profile of a sleeping dragon is unmistakeable, as my ironic photo (with shark alert) shows below.

At the time I took the photo I was more preoccupied with sharks than dragons, so you can barely make out the resting head of the dragon to the left of the sign. You’ll have to believe me that when you stand in the right place, the entire profile of a reclining dragon is evident.

The actual author of the “land called Honalee” lyrics, Leonard Lipton, says this about their inspiration:

I was once on the island of Kauai with my family and friends and we came across a gigantic lava cave on the edge of Hanalei Bay. My friend asked me how I came to set “Puff the Magic Dragon” here and I told him the truth: I had never heard of Hanlei and I had no idea it had a cave fit for a dragon. I can’t explain it, and like so much of life, this is another mystery to accept and enjoy. (“From the Authors” of Puff the Magic Dragon)

The saleswoman who sold me the book claims she spoke directly to Peter Yarrow, who assured her the connection to Hanalei was genuine. She seemed like a very sincere person, who happened to have fifteen or so copies of Puff on her bookshelves.

I’ll admit I bought the book Puff the Magic Dragon out of the wistful hope that Hanalei was the magical home of the magical dragon, because it was a magical home to us for five days.  It is a small, tourist town with single-lane bridges at either end of it to keep it secluded from the heavy tourist populations of Princeville and Kapaa. It has a classic wharf,  long beaches, good surf and terrific seafood, which attract a controlled tourist flow.

From our east windows on A’awa Street we could see the sun pierce the clouds on Mount Mamalahoa every morning, even the rainy ones. Every morning was punctuated by the strident call of the rooster, who had answering comrades in near and distant yards most of the night. So what if I didn’t sleep through any night, I still enjoyed the roosters’ relentless demand for attention throughout the day. They surrounded our yard and most of the restaurants in Hanalei.

The beach was hardly a quarter mile from our driveway, so we walked there as we walked to every attraction in Hanalei. At the corner of Aku Street (which joins with A’awa) and Kuhio Highway– two of Hanalei’s best low-brow restaurants– Kalypso and Tahiti Nui. Sunday brunch at Kalypso was a delight of local cuisine, and every night Tahiti Nui was the watering hole for local entertainment. We spent our last night in Hanalei at the front table in Tahiti Nui, where we appreciated the full volume of a four-piece blues band, whose name escapes me, but you can see them through the refractions of my beer below. The pineapple pizza at Tahiti Nui was fantastic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two other culinary prizes, The Dolphin for seafood, if you can get in, and The Bread Company for breakfast, especially the peanut-butter toast. The Bread Company has a long line in the morning, but after 10 a.m. the traffic dies down. Postcards deserves mention as an elegant, but  pricey restaurant. We had appetizers there, my first taste of blue marlin cerviche. Loved it!

Hanalei has no sidewalks, but the traffic is respectful of lines of pedestrians tip-toeing on either side of the road.  Cars always stop at the crosswalks, and I have never heard one honk to push the traffic along. It is a town ruled by the foot traffic; serenity prevails.

Plenty of shops where local artisans display, some reasonably priced. Not a chain-store in sight. So “quaint” and “unspoiled” are words that come to mind, when you consider the commercial scene.

All this comes with the surrounding majestic mountains coming down to the sea and lush foliage that characterizes Kauai, as “The Garden Island.” Probably the most gorgeous intersection of mountains and beach is the most inaccessible, the Na Pali coast I mentioned in a previous blog. We saw it from the helicopter tour by Fred Harter.

 

If  you  drive west to  the end of  the Kuhio Highway to Haena Beach, you arrive at a permit-only park, which leads to Makana Mountain, where only durable hikers can venture. In South Pacific Makana was shot as the mystical island of Bali Hai.

So Hanalei is a tiny village bounded by a single-lane bridge on the east, several single lane bridges on the west and ultimately a nearly impassable mountain on the west. The seclusion and  beauty of the town seem indefinitely secure.

I did not set out to write a travelogue, but more like an ode to Hanalei. Maybe when the poetic soul of Puff the Magic Dragon or South Pacific emerges from me I’ll give a more lyric tribute.