Underbelly Of Paradise

While searching the internet for beach pictures of Oahu’s west side (the picture above was a hit), I ran across this 2010 comment concerning the closing of Keaau beach. Based on my 1973 west side experience of the island, I’d have to say that the more things change the more they stay the same. Here’s the quote:

“The west side just isn't safe anymore PERIOD. Most that don't live there know to leave that side before it gets dark... I don't bother to surf on that side, as I don't want my car broken into, or to get into a fight with someone that has nothing better to do all day than be a punk. It's very sad that most of the more pure blooded Hawaiians live on the west side, and this is how they are perceived, as chronic, violent, under educated, homeless savages. This coming from a Hawaiian, it's very sad!”

Beach Scum
June 6 `73
Keaau, Beach

I have just experienced one of the disadvantages of living on the
beach. Last night two mokes tried to rape the Olympia, Washington
girls who had come to Hawaii and were camping next to Eddy. I can't
say that I was surprised. On a number of occasions, the "locals" had
beaten-up and/or molested "haulies" (me and other whites'). It started
with Ralf and his friend. They got mugged and robbed at gunpoint.
Fortunately, Ralf's girlfriend wasn't with him at the time. They were
the only Michigan beach people I had met. After the incident, they
moved off the beach and into a house. At the grocery store not long
ago, I ran into Ralf, and he told me moving off the beach wasn't the
answer. He woke up one morning and found his two dogs, Keoki and Toad
(two of the cutest mutts imaginable) dead on his front lawn. They had
their throats slit.

Bud, a friend of mine, was beaten up too. He was a skinny, blond
haired artist from Houston. He could paint anything, and he did it
very quickly. He worked part time at a small art gallery in Makaha.
For looking after the gallery he got to paint and sell his paintings,
compliments of the guy who owned the place. He was doing pretty well,
too. In fact, I figured he was only a month or two away from making it
big time when he got mugged and robbed. Two of his fingers were
deliberately broken. His income pretty much dried up after that. He
went back to Texas.

The incidents with Ralf and Bud happened away from the beach. When
Bob and Mime got robbed just thirty yards down the beach from where
Carol Sue and I were camping, I grew a bit more apprehensive. Then
John and Jo, the couple camping right next to us, were robbed at
gunpoint. One of the robbers wanted to rape Jo, but was called off by
the guy holding the gun. Just before Carol Sue left the island for
home, someone stole her camera and my jacket from out of our tent.
Obviously, C.S. and I got off lightly!