Chapter 9
Switching Hotels
The seat belt sign was flashing when the voice of the stewardess jolted me back to reality – we were landing in Honolulu. After showing our hotel accommodation slips to the attendant at the airport she assigned us to various buses. My bus was already full, so I sat with the driver. Don introduced himself as we drove away from the airport, and we were immediately engaged in conversation. I told him that the only booking to be had from the Australian Tourist Bureau was at the Reef Hotel, and instead of staying eight days I could only afford to stay three days.
“Would you like to find another hotel - one you can afford?”
“Oh! That would be wonderful. How close to the beach would it be?”
“One block away, and it will cost you only $6 a day,” Don assured me with a big smile.
This obliging driver and I were meant to meet! I knew I no longer needed to worry about that expensive accommodation at The Reef, at $39 a day! I stayed in the bus until all the passengers had been deposited at their hotels, after which Don drove me back to the Reef Hotel to redeem my deposit. He assured me that there would be no problems, as his cousin worked at the reception desk. Don went with me.
At the Islander Hotel Don introduced me to the proprietors - Don’s daughter and son-in-law - who welcomed me like a member of the family. The hotel was just what I was looking for. I kept saying over and over, “$6 a day! It sure pays to know the right people.” This wonderful happening made me shiver with anticipation!
The hotel was an L-shaped, six-storey building with a large pool. Several people were dining around the pool but nobody was swimming. I always hated to see a pool go to waste! As soon as the newly arrived guests were shown to their rooms Don’s second daughter Lisa, took me across the street from the main hotel, to the bungalows. She explained that the bungalows were much cheaper and I still had the use of all the hotel’s facilities.
My unit, set amongst exotic tropical gardens, comprised a bedroom, a bathroom and, in the corner of the bedroom, a desk/dressing-table where I could write. All this for $6 a day! I had now become financially secure again.
After unpacking, I went looking for Waikiki beach, but failed to find a path leading to the ocean. All the expensive hotels were lined up along the main thoroughfare right on the beachfront. I decided to look around and take a shortcut through the Reef hotel, pretending I was still a guest. As I hurried through to the foyer, wondering if anyone suspected that I didn’t belong there, I thought how terrible it was to have a conscience. Passing the barbershop, I bumped into a gentleman coming out of the door.
“Yes, I’m OK, thank you. Oh! Hi Mr. Benny.” (I sounded like Rochester! Wait till my family hears about this)!
The sight of Waikiki beach caused me to pause in wonderment. It was just as it looked in the movies and travel pictures. For a man-made beach it ran a close fourth to any Australian beaches I’d seen.
Someone was trying to catch my attention. Standing in front of me was a waiter from the hotel, ringing a tiny brass bell and reminding me that it was almost noon, and suggesting that I may care to retire to the lounge. I was puzzled - what did he mean? Most of the guests who were sunbathing got up from their lounge chairs and headed for the foyer and elevators. I thought I’d stick around - something was going on, but I didn’t dare ask! The beachfront was becoming deserted. I waved, pretending I saw some friends, and headed down toward the beach, then, with that same guilty conscience, sneaked back to the street through the next hotel, The Beachcomber.
A market stall on the main street displayed packaged fingers of mouth-watering fresh pineapple and fruit salad in sealed plastic bags. I bought two days’ supply and went back to my hotel, had a swim, then sat by the pool and ate the luscious, tropical fruit while writing postcards. Two days’ supply lasted only one day. After another swim I took a nap. What a life!
I changed the date of my departure in order to stay eight days. I almost decided to stick to the original three days, as I was suffering pangs of homesickness, missing Bill and the children, wishing they could enjoy all this with me. Then I thought of the most recent letters from Bill that I’d received in Australia, about the worst blizzard in 40 years and a temperature of 23 degrees below zero.
Snow in |
That cured any homesickness! After I saw Waikiki beach, I knew an opportunity to swim and surf there may not come again in my lifetime. Once I returned to Iowa, in the middle of the United States, and settled back to being a housewife and mother, chances were I might not see the ocean again for a very long time!
The following day saw me swimming in the pool at 5.00am, eating bacon and eggs beside the pool at 7.00am, and walking to the post office shortly after that. The postal clerk was most obliging, and was interested in all the cards I was sending and where they were going. He introduced himself as Sammy Yamamoto, and to find my name, glanced at the return home address on my letter to Australia.
“Very happy to meet you, Mrs. Frost. How long are you staying with us in Hawaii?” We talked for about an hour, as business was slow early in the morning. He asked where I was staying and if I was happy with my accommodation.
“Don’t tell me, Sammy! You have a relative that runs a very nice hotel. Are all the people related to each other in Hawaii? All the ones I have met are members of the same family. The bus driver, Don; the Reef Hotel desk clerk; Jeanie and her husband at the Islander.”
Sammy was laughing. “Yes, but aren’t we all related, really? They are not my blood relatives but I know them all very well, like my family.” He suggested I try the Palms restaurant that evening, at the corner of my street. The proprietor, Joe, an ex-cop from New York, introduced me around to the other eight couples seated at separate tables. Each couple invited me to join them. Was it the slower pace of the tropics, or was it because people on vacation enjoy a new freedom that allows their conservative lives to take on a relaxed attitude? Whatever the reason, I enjoyed being the centre of attention and hadn’t even considered it a drawback to be travelling alone.
“Why not all sit together?” I suggested. “Would you mind, Joe, if we pushed some tables together?” We all joined in and rearranged the tables, finishing up with a real party atmosphere. After our main course had been served I was told that someone was asking for me at the desk. Everyone seemed very impressed, knowing I had been in Hawaii for only one day.
“Mrs. Frost - or should I call you Frosty?” the gentleman at the desk asked with a big smile.
“My friends call me Frosty.”
“I’m John, Jeanie’s brother. Lisa asked me to come see if you would be interested in going with a group of us to The Barefoot Bar tonight. They have a great floor show there and she thought you might enjoy it.” I agreed to go with them at 11.30pm - an ungodly hour, but I was on holidays and anything goes!
After meeting more members of Don’s family back in the lobby of the Islander Hotel, I joined them in a big bus that took us to the nightclub. “We are all in the transportation business, too,” Jeanie said with a laugh. “None of us own a private car. A few of the younger boys have motor cycles - fast for small deliveries.”
What a night! The food was plentiful - too bad I’d already eaten and wasn’t hungry. Three hours later, one of Jeanie’s daughters brought me a foil parcel of prawns to eat afterwards. Prawns for breakfast with my bacon and eggs beside the pool – a delightful new experience!
Every one of my dance partners was a great dancer. There was so much laughter and good fun that I adored that caring and loving family. Two of Jeanie’s daughters were professional dancers in the floorshow, and they were spectacular. After getting to bed at 3.00am, I thought I would probably sleep late, but I was up at 6, had a swim, ordered breakfast of bacon and eggs and ate my gift of prawns, too. There was such a racket from the early risers leaning over the balconies calling me ‘the mermaid’, that they were waking the rest of the guests. To avoid disturbing anyone when I arrived at the pool the next morning, I slid quietly into the water instead of diving and making a splash; the acoustics seemed to amplify every sound.
Going to the beach early might have been a better idea, but Jeanie said I needn’t worry; they were trying to get more people to use the pool anyway, and I could be the one to encourage them to do it.
I felt very much a part of this family of Don’s. We went out dancing several nights in a row, usually with anywhere from twelve to twenty-five in our group. For the members of this family the tourist business was their way of life. They worked hard and played hard!
One morning after the nightclub we all went swimming down at the beach. The men undressed down to their underpants (which were really swimming trunks), but the women went in fully clothed. The men considered a sundress and underpants to be over-dressed for water sports, and the women had no imagination when it came to being ready for any emergency!
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