This column is about colorful local characters on the Big Island. Their stories are usually set outside, and involve some sort of a wild animal. Golf doesn’t qualify. There are a lot of golfers here, but I don’t cover golf. When golf balls run wild and become ferocious, maybe.
I’m writing today about a new type of “local” character popping up around here. I say new in that they are new to me, but it is entirely possible that I have just been oblivious. These characters may have been around as far back as Capt. Cook, hired on as crewman. There certainly were some in the crew of Capt. Bligh.
I’m talking about people who are so taken by Kona that they call it “home” but don’t actually live here. After each visit, members of this particular group just up and fly away, and go back … well, wherever they go.
Originally that last sentence closed by saying that they “go back home,” but if they think home is here — but don’t actually live here — then where are they going ?
Confusing, isn’t it? This dichotomy is what caught my attention.
To someone who has generations of family here — or — to one who has gone though all the trials and tribulations that accompany life while physically and mentally establishing a home, this may seem odd. Paying local taxes also came up. Volunteer work. Stuff like that.
I was curious if any of these folks would actually live here if they could no longer fish, dive or golf, activities that often draw people here for starters. Many who live here do not. Lots of locals do fish, dive and hunt though. Sure, it’s great fun, but it’s more a way of life than lifestyle. Another reason golf doesn’t count.
Reminds me of an old bluesman who faced an empty audience and said, “Let’s just play the blues boys. It’s what we do.” At home, you just do what you do. No one has to be watching.
But it’s not that simple.
The topic of what is home has been pondered ad infinitum, and never solved concisely. Homecoming was a central theme of Homer. No, not Homer down at the feed store. I’m talking about that dead Greek dude Homer who was waxing poetically about stuff like this way back in the 8th century BC. Whereas a bluesman can simply say “I play the blues. I am a bluesman,” defining home is not so easy, even after more than 2,800 years of gabbing about it.
Jason “Tiny” Walcott is one person I’ve heard say a number of times “I’m home in Kona.” It seemed reasonable to start with him because he comes “home” for tournament season, and then digs out.
I caught up with him out fishing on the charter boat “Sapo” with owner Paul Dolinoy, Capt. Chris Choy and his dad Chef Sam Choy. This wasn’t a fishing charter though, this was just some buddies out fishing, doing what they do.
Ah HAH! This was going to be easy I thought. Why had this taken 2,800 years?
Yet again, it did not prove to be that simple. “I actually did live here from 2003 to 2007. I was commuting to jobs all over the world because it’s hard to make a living fishing here. I only left for family reasons. I’m actually an 8th generation Jamaican. My mom told me that she thinks I love the Big Island because it is everything Jamaica isn’t.”
That sounded like Steinbeck’s driving directions, “Take the twisty road til you see the overpass but don’t take it.” So I said, “Okay, but those family issues are solved, you do come back but still live in Florida. How is Kona home?”
I was confused but Tiny’s mind was clear on this. “I feel more at home here than anywhere else. It’s spiritual, actually. Plus, I have a lot of friends here. I plan to retire and live here and not have to leave. But I’m still working and fishing is what I do. I can’t afford to make a living charter fishing Kona. Everything is expensive here except charter fishing. Kona charter prices are the cheapest in the world. A good captain here will get paid about as much as bad mate on the east coast. But yeah, if I couldn’t fish I could still live here and be happy.” That made one in a row — a yes.
Sam Spinello has been coming and going in Kona since 1967 — every year for 52 years.
“We looked at buying a home here a number of times. I golfed with a lot of locals over the years and everyone’s been wonderful. We always felt at home in Kona. I started fishing with Capt. George Parker back in 1968. It was very relaxing but we also became friends. The social scene at the HIBT was fantastic. But when everyone left and we stayed, it got real quiet real quick. I was flat out with my business in Malibu. The decision not to buy a Kona home seemed to be made for us, whereas buying one in Palm Springs sort of happened naturally. So, we retired in the desert but we continued to travel to Kona until Covid.” A bit quiet for the Spinello’s — a no.
On the other end of the spectrum, Nick Durham and wife Alex relocated to Kona from their native Australia. They were coming up every year for fishing, always researching a move. A young family moving internationally has many considerations to work through. “We love it here. The people are super nice to us. Locals seem to like Aussies. The climate is unbeatable and even though it has grown, Kona is still really laid back.”
“For me though,” Nick said, “I can go to work fishing and then just get off the boat and go home. I don’t know of anywhere on earth you can do that and have giant marlin just offshore.”
Yeah, OK but the question was what if you couldn’t…..oh, never mind.
Check back in 2,800 years. We’ll have a concise answer by then. G’arans.
