Of diamond heads and ottoman silks

I wait for copies of the requisite birth certificates--mine and my dad's, and can think of no better place to be in a holding pattern than Diamond Head. Walking through a kilometer of sere landscape plus 216 steps through the tufa cone,  I arrive with a flood of other day trippers  to peer over the crater's edge at the remnants of the 1909-built Rutger's Fort. Far below, Waikiki tumbles at the turquoise water edge like so much volcanic spew. I recall walking feeling the still warm lava under my sneakers at Kilauea on the Big Island--and the rolling sensation of the land creating itself. Whether it's surfing the bone crunching 20-foot waves at Waimea, watching the earth open its fiery heart, or the calm lianas vines relentlessly claiming human habitations, Hawaii forces us to give up the illusion of control. Did Florence clamber up here for perspective on the ground changing beneath her? Was Oahu her blue haven?

Later, I visit another long-time single woman's Eden at the foot of Diamond Head-- Doris Duke's Shangri-La. One of the wealthiest women of her time, this heiress to the tobacco tycoon, James B. Duke, swept Islamic treasures from around the world into the walls, ceilings and floors of her Honolulu home. She was reclusive, eccentric and had exquisite design sensibilities. Fortunately for her, there weren't restrictions on exporting ancient art in the 1930s--and she collected 2,500 rare objects, many of which are now considered priceless--riad tile walls, a First century gold urn, Mughal dynasty carved doors. What she couldn't buy, she had made--by 400 Agra villagers*. Enhancements to Shangri La continued until Duke's passing. Her butler and friend reports that she worked long hours, rarely taking a day off, to maintain her treasures--even climbing a ladder to defend the filigree against salt-air corrosion with a toothbrush.

*http://www.shangrilahawaii.org/PageFiles/390/Thalia%20Kennedy%20FINAL%2012%200725.pdf

The people of Hawaii have a historic claim to the shoreline based on rock-solid laws. Through a land swap with the city,  Doris finagled the building of this private cove.

 Hawaii.  The perfect place to disappear.