“Get ready to run,” I said to my wife as we watched a muscular swell gain momentum shortly after noon Monday at Hanakapi‘ai Beach. Like the 40 or so people at the beach, we’d hiked the first two miles of the Kalalau Trail on a brilliant sunny day, watching towering waves crash into the Napali bluffs.
We’d read the warning signs and cautiously chose our lunch spot, on the volcanic rocks far above the beach. The strongest waves neared the top of the beach, but we had at least 30 feet of buffer, or so we thought. We ate our hard-boiled eggs and blue-corn chips, fueling up for the challenging hike to Hanakapa‘ai Falls.
A family of eight went down to the beach to take a photo, which, given the size of the swells made me nervous. I half-joked to my wife: “the final family portrait.” She took a photo of them just as a frighteningly forceful wave gained steam. Before the wave hit the beach I said, “Get ready to run.”
A second later the water was up to our ankles, then instantly above our knees, higher than our waist. Then we were under water, entirely submerged, being knocked around by the sandy rogue wave. We were propelled away from the beach, scraping over the glass-sharp rocks on which we’d been sitting.
As a whitewater raft guide, I’m not unfamiliar with the power of moving water, but I’d never felt anything like this. We were absolutely helpless against the strength of this wave that just kept coming. And coming. For a moment, I didn’t know which way was up and didn’t know if we’d be carried out to sea with the wave. Perhaps the craggy rocks saved us.
It felt like getting shot out of an underwater cannon as we zoomed over the sharp volcanic rocks. I’ve swum Class IV-V rapids but this was more frightening as we didn’t know when it would end or if it would pull us out to sea, where there waves were 15-20 feet high and crashing into the cliffs. I’m not sure that if we’d been standing the water would have been over our heads, but the sudden intense force of it made it impossible to stand so we’ll never know. What I do know is that we were swept 20-plus feet from where we were sitting after getting pinballed through the rocks.
When the water receded, I was about 15 to 20 feet higher up the bank and for a couple of seconds didn’t see my wife. I screamed her name: “Jackie!” then heard her voice – she was another 10 to 15 feet up the rocks. I found her bleeding on both knees, left hip, and left arm, but she was clear-eyed and fortunately hadn’t hit her head too hard. She showed no concussion signs.
Our friend Alex was shaking, bleeding from her legs, arms and head, with a golf-ball size contusion next to her left eye. Alex is also a river guide and anticipated that we’d go straight into concussion protocol, so she told us her name and that she lives in Sacramento, showing us her mind was working.
After the rogue wave hit, the surf receded dramatically, hundreds of feet out to sea. I had one thought: This is what happens in a tsunami; we had to get to higher ground. But people around us were crying and looking for loved ones. A woman couldn’t find her son and headed into the water, searching for him. I repeatedly screamed at her, “Get out now!” She wouldn’t listen. About a minute later, the boy, who someone told me later is autistic, was found high on the rocks and his mother ran up the beach and over the rocks to meet him.
A girl right next to us, perhaps 12 to 14 years old, was moaning in pain. Her ankle appeared broken and she was unable to stand. Hiking back later we met a fireman from Southern California who’d been at the beach and had splinted her ankle before she was taken out by a Medevac helicopter from the landing pad near Hanakapi‘ai Beach. I heard a second helicopter had come to take out others who were too injured to hike back.
I still feared a second rogue wave but didn’t see one coming so we collected what gear we could. My sunglasses were gone, even though I’d had a retention cord on them, but miraculously Jackie found her phone on the ground near where she landed. Jackie lost her sun hat and FitBit, a small price to pay. Alex found my shoes – I’d crossed Hanakapi‘ai Stream barefoot and hadn’t put them back on, but I’d tied them together which may have kept them from being washed away. And Jackie’s wedding ring was still on her finger.
It appeared everyone was accounted for — no one was missing a friend or family member. I still wondered: what if a couple or someone who’d come alone had been swept out and no one knew they were missing? But at that point we didn’t think there was anything we could do to help so we re-crossed Hanakapi‘ai Stream and started climbing out.
By chance we hiked with several of the other “survivors,” retreating battered and bleeding, like a defeated army. We saw a young Asian-American couple who’d taken our photo on the hike in; she was hiking back with one shoe; he had no shoes but said his feet didn’t hurt; it was his finger that was painful. He appeared to have broken it. (We saw them again that evening at Makana North Shore Urgent Care facility in Princeville and his finger was broken. The family of the girl with the broken ankle was there too.)
I had somewhat deep cuts on my right knee and shin and on my left elbow, but what caused me the most discomfort was a deep bruise on the top of my right foot; it was painful to put my full weight on it. Thankfully we ran into a couple from Spain who gave us ibuprofen – that made the hike bearable.
When we ran into the firefighter on the trail he was wearing mismatched shoes. He could only find one of his so used a shoe from one of the injured people who’d been helicoptered out. Later we met another hiker; a man who appeared to be in his late 50s. He had a satellite phone and had been the one to call for help as there’s no cell service at Hanakapi‘ai Beach.
On the hike back we could see looks of surprise and concern on the faces of those we met. But one woman looked at us and said, “Oh my God!” Then in a weak humor attempt said, “Did you guys try to take a shortcut?” Most people just asked if we were OK. Jackie and I tended to say yes; Alex more honestly said no. Mainly we just warned people not to get near Hanakapi‘ai Beach.
After hiking for about an hour, we hit the half-mile viewpoint; Alex, who by now had two black eyes, said it felt faster hiking back.
“Time flies when you’re in shock,” I said.
Then we descended the final half mile and were back down to the trailhead near Ke‘e Beach. As we had at the beginning of the hike, we took photos in front of the Kalalau Trail and NaPali Coast State Wilderness Park signs, to have a before-and-after set of images to remember the day.
We still had open wounds and bulbous blue-black contusions, but we’d made it out. And the wave of love and gratitude that broke over us when we realized how close we’d come to serious injury or death felt even stronger than the rogue wave that pounded us into the volcanic rocks above Hanakapi‘ai Beach.
•••
Michael Shapiro is a freelance writer, editor and photographer. He is a contributor to National Geographic Traveler, American Way, The Sun, Virtuoso Traveler, Alaska Beyond, San Francisco Chronicle and Washington Post. His new book is The Creative Spark: How musicians, writers, explorers, and other artists found their inner fire and followed their dreams. For more info, excerpts and links to buy the book, click: CreativeSparkBook.com
Hanakapiai is one of the beautiful and deadly beaches of Hawaii. People constantly underestimate it. One year when a buddy and I hiked in, a helicopter brought in the body of a pilot who had been caught in a rip tide and had a heart attack trying to get back to shore. We had crossed his devastated family when we hiked in.
I’ve hiked in to the falls four or five times, but the last time my wife slipped and injured herself, so that was the last time.
Beware the beauty of Hanakapiai.
Close the trail, close the beach, close down access to tourist, they are not safe and unaware of the natural danger and put our life guards, first responders in danger. They are not listening to the warnings because they think it will not happen to them, but it does and it does often. Close access to tourist, they should be cited for trespassing. Do not allow this to continually happen.
I totally agree. I’ve visited Kauai about 15 times and am well aware of these unfortunate incidents. Way too much danger along the trails. Mahalo.
HAHAHA -yeah, because only tourists make mistakes and have accidents.
Just so you know….Visitors are drowning at roughly nine times the rate of local residents, according to Health Department data
People like you are the reason why you have to get cavity searched to fly on a plane. Reactionary “solutions” which do nothing. In case you haven’t noticed we live on an island. Surrounded by water. People drown everywhere. You can only do so much to help. Cost of doing business. Or lets just close every beach on the island because you could drown. Better walk everywhere too so you don’t crash. In fact don’t leave the house, its dangerous out there
As kauai resident and local who moved to the island 6 months ago, i fully agree with original poster. We must restrict access to all the trails and beaches to tourists for safety sake. I did not buy a house with hedge fund money and paid big time just to deal with tourists! Its ridiculous.
You being here 6 months doesn’t make you local LOL
thats some good advise
I didn’t see any actual locals in the picture…Oh wait,.. that’s because we’re not idiots!!!
We were on the *rocks* well above the beach and yes there were locals there. In fact one of the locals was a woman and her son – dad had gone to hike to the falls and they were on the rocks with us. The local woman said she’d lived on Kauai for 30 years and had often visited this beach but had never seen a wave like this. When she told her husband where we were — high on the rocks well above the tide line — he couldn’t believe we were swept away by the wave.
When we vacationed on the North Shore of Kauai 2 years ago, people were repeatedly warned to stay away from the surf, yet 2 tourists who didn’t heed the warnings drowned. I’m not sure what else the local authorities can do—other than perhaps make this article required reading on flights to the Garden Isle.
Typically, the dry rocks indicate you’re in a safe spot, but not this time. Of course, people who weren’t there are all going to chime in with righteous criticism, but accidents happen. In cars. On the beach. Everywhere. Clearly, a lot of folks were caught off guard, and they can’t all be careless. The most experienced pilots die in plane crashes. The most experienced volcano experts die in eruptions. The best animal experts get killed by animals. It’s life. Just be glad this time everyone is okay, and hold back on the blame game.
YEs, they all can be careless. On a day when the advice for every lifeguarded beach on the islands was “stay out of the water” they went past the permanent signs saying an area is dangerous. Bad things happen there when we aren’t in the midst of a major winter swell, going there during a major water isn’t a great idea.
Thanks for your compassionate and insightful comment. It’s true, we saw the signs and thought we were being cautious. On the beach was a mix of locals and visitors. I agree that those on the beach were taking a foolish risk but those of us well up on the rocks felt we were being respectful of the conditions and in a safe place.
Great story on why you should always listen to the folks at ocean safety instead of being stupid (especially the part about taking the picture on the beach, classic).
We thought we were being cautious. We were on the *rocks* well above the beach and yes there were locals there. In fact one of the locals was a woman and her son – dad had gone to hike to the falls and they were on the rocks with us. The local woman said she’d lived on Kauai for 30 years and had often visited this beach but had never seen a wave like this. When she told her husband where we were — high on the rocks well above the tide line — he couldn’t believe we were swept away by the wave.
Waste of time, I don’t see any rogue wave only the shirt of some by standers.
The article says nothing about the trash (shoes, glasses, etc.) swept away, more plastic crap in the ocean…and what were those yokels not thinking ? What can the lifeguards say, and how about the 2 new park rangers?? enuf already, make em pay for the ride out
yeah, make everyone who gets into accidents pay for first responders’ services. oh wait, we all do, via taxes.
not like these people were trespassing at Queens Bath. accidents happen, get used to it.
Good article but incorrect use of the term “rogue wave” and shame on him and TGI for using that term In the headline while making it sound like this event at Hanakapia is rare. Rogue waves are by definition “unusually large waves for a given sea state.” Hawai’i was seeing a monster swell and the conditions that they encountered were not unusual, although I’m sure all the visitors would disagree.
They’re called sneaker waves: They are impossible to predict, appearing with little or no warning, and often surge high up on the beach with deadly force. A ‘rogue wave’ is a term generally used at sea, for a wave that’s at least twice as big as other waves.
Everyone should read Earthling’s post about drownings. Local or tourist, the ocean always wins.
Some commenters suggest that drownings only happen to irresponsible and clueless tourists, not wise locals. Read the 2011 study, “Drowning Deaths in the Nearshore Marine Waters of the Island of Kauai, Hawaii 1970-2009” published in the International Journal of Aquatic Research and Education.
Over a 40-year period (1970–2009) a total of 392 drowning deaths were recorded on Kauai. More than three-fourths (300) were due to nonboating incidents occurring at the ocean shoreline. The others occurred inland in rivers, lakes, swimming pools, and at private residences. Of those 300 shoreline drownings, 220 were visitors and 80 were Kauai residents.
Drownings are tragic and they can happen to anyone. Let’s be thankful that this particular incident did not end in tragedy. Everyone be safe out there.
Full drowning study available to read here:
https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/8ec5/e9f3746c07178d0880119e24d39e4ecb6dbb.pdf
Hi, I don’t normally post things but the unnecessary and unfounded blame-game here is dangerous.
I was there, and tossed brutally by the wave. As many have noted, there is signage and warnings throughout the run up to and at the beach, to be careful. These warnings NEVER mention the possibility of “sneaker” waves. They mention the possibility of flash floods via the river. They mention the dangers of swimming. They mention the slippery conditions. They mention not going near the ocean. But while there were some people who certainly went too close to the high-water line, the large majority of us were well up on the rocks, with at least 50 feet between us and wet sand.
During the shuttle service (which was still operating the day of and two days after) that brings you to this trail head, we were given 20minutes of warnings about what to watch out for. But nothing about such a swell. A Kauaian resident who has jogged the trail 4x per week for over a year was sitting amongst the rocks, thrashed like all of us, and had never seen anything like it in his 200+ visits to the beach.
Later, when describing the incident to people living in Kauai, they said there normally isn’t such a large stretch of sand (“beach”) between the rocks and the surf. So those of you who have been there may think we were sitting on the rocks with the surf lapping at our feet…not the case.
Just to say that most of us WERE being cautious and respectful of the power of the ocean especially in winter. Heeding the warnings we were given. And still suffered significant injuries. t’s called Hanakapiai Beach not Hanakapiai Overlook…
Not sure what’s the right solution. But think you should be discussing based on the facts of this situation.