First stop today is Pulalou Beach. It's a State Park -- we could have camped had a) we known it and b) we'd fought for a permit -- with some simple facilities and a black sand beach surrounded by sharp black lava coastline. The reason to be here is the turtles, green turtles mooching around and, on other occaisions, hawksbill turtles nesting. The turtles are initially hard to spot but ater a few minutes you notice unusual eddys in the water behind a wave often followed by a fin, a head or a turtle butt. They like the algae/moss that grows on the rocks here and merrily sway in the surf munching on their favoutite snack.
Being expert swimmers and being able to hold their breath for up to two hours (whilst sleeping) they aren't for the impatient. We've dived a dozen times and found one or two turtles. Here they were mucking about in groups of up to four. All around the beach, too. Great! Not many people are snorkelling so we're not enthused to join in. The waves make the bay look a bit rough. Besides, we can't spend all day looking at turtles when there's lava to be looked at.
More importantly, though, we have an appointment with the laundrette. Our bags are somewhat emptier without this collection of stinky clothes. We try the cafe round the corner for a change for lunch but it's a poor greasy spoon affair. It's the only alternative to the Lava Rock Cafe as the restaurant next door is undergoing refurbishment. Clothes washed and dried we head off into the park mid-afternoon.
We check with the woman on the gate who says we're OK to pick up a new ticket tomorrow. The campsite is already full, well, the three official pitches are already in use. Some geezer seems to think I'm British Special Forces. Get a grip. We pitch in a cleaned up bit of scrub by the path and head back out and into Hilo to get more provisions. There's a WalMart on the main road so we pile in and emerge sometime later with US$75 worth of films, CDs, chocolate covered raisins and US$0.58 worth of drinking water [a gallon]. Oops. Seeing our budget go up in flames we try to remedy the situation with US$8 worth of McDonalds, sadly, all too soon after lunch to `enjoy.'
We roll around Hilo for a bit to let the sky get dark and hopefully to allow most punters to have left the lava thus ensuring a) some peace and quiet and b) a parking space close to the start. Half eight is not late enough and I think we're parked further away then before. Never mind. We press on towards the red stuff. For the first time we see a dim red glow on the shoreline, where the lava meets the sea. Too far to walk, though -- in the local store we were told the man who took many of the great photographs of the lava entering the sea has had a trachaeotomy . I guess we're meant to believe that's due to the poisonous gases and glass particles [in the steam plume] rather than, say, chain smoking.
The lava is in mixed form tonight, it looks as though it's filled the local `bowl' and is looking for somewhere else to escape to but there's enough action to keep us amused. We overhear a couple making arrangements to stay the night (uh?) and there's some geologists extracting lumps of fresh lava with a hooked tool for some unspecified purpose. Somebody shouts What's that tools you're using?
A pipe.
He admits to much amusement before, in faux seriousness, A certified lava dipping tool.
Again we're quite lucky and there's only a couple of brief showers but after an hour and a half it's time to go. 
Halfway back, in a hotspot we'd felt earlier, Helen stops to point out a large lump of lava that had been split in two, both halves neatly held up in the subsequent flow. I pointed out how it too had been split before Helen exclaimed That's why it's so hot!
Eighteen inches down the inner crack was glowing red hot. So the official trail leads us right over an active lava tube. Oooh err. We're not convinced it's safe though we have presumed that almost all of the lave we walk on is criss-crossed with lava tubes, intact or collapsed. This however is a bit too close for comfort. We spot another couple of glowing cracks too close to the path and skip lightly back towards cold land nervously checking cracks as we go.
We zip back up to the campground for close on midnight which is overflowing. There's at least six vehicles squeezed in with someone pitched on the gravel of the car park. They can't have been impressed with my non-handiwork trying to get the Chevy's lights to go out -- one of those, the lights stay on for a while after you've locked, safety features. Not to worry, our tent's still there and looks dry.
Kulanaokuaiki Camp, Volcanoes National Park, Big Island N19.34411 W155.27383 Elev. 988m
[Actually, we were on the other side of the camp!]
Copyright 2003 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.