HAMAKUA HIGH POINTS DIAMONDS GLIMMER IN THE ROUGH ON THE EAST COAST OF HAWAII'S BIG ISLAND.

Byline: Story and photos by Eric Noland Travel Editor

HILO, Hawaii - Sunbathers and golfers settle in comfortably on the arid Kona and Kohala coasts of Hawaii's Big Island, but they generally don't have much use for the other side of the island - the Hamakua Coast, where weather stations record measurable rainfall an average of 279 days per year.

Neither is the town of Hilo a conventional tourist lure. The rolling waves and black-sand beaches of its waterfront were ruined long ago by commercial interests - the construction of a port and a sugar cane railroad - and it is little more than a scruffy, workaday town today, badly in need of paint, Rustoleum and weed killer.

Sometimes, however, travelers find themselves on this eastern side of the island, seeking out its assets. This is the most convenient base of operations for a thorough exploration of nearby Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, for example, and cruise ships regularly dock here.

What many of them find are assorted gems of discovery: a verdant rain forest choked with blossoms, tumbling waterfalls, a fabulous public market, tiny former plantation towns, a heartbreaking chronicle of nature's tsunami havoc.

And, sometimes, even a storyteller.

That's what we encountered on a drive up the Hamakua Coast, after detouring onto the four-mile Pepeekeo Scenic Drive to get a look at the beautiful cobalt waters of Onomea Bay.

Keoni Mersberg, a local with skin weathered to leather, was sitting on a lava-rock wall, weaving coconut palm fronds into baskets. This far from the resort enclaves of Kona, the tourist trade on the little road was paltry: We were it. And he seemed to welcome the company.

``In the back days, this whole coastline was sugar cane,'' Keoni said at one point, ``and before trucks, they took the sugar cane back to the mill with donkeys. When the donkeys got old, they took them out there to the edge of the bay and dropped them in. They figured, rather than put them in the ground, let them do some good for someone else. And after a while, that bay was completely infested with sharks.

``There was a man, Waikii, who lived here then, and his aumakua was the shark.'' (In Hawaiian lore, an aumakua is a lesser god that protects a certain family.) ``He had a little girl, and when she was 6 years old she would swim across the bay, and the sharks would leave her alone.

``I just met her. Her name's Kahalii. She's 60 years old now. And I'll tell you this: I have never seen anybody else swimming in this bay.''

The yarn - true or not, we didn't care - served as a fitting prologue to an exploration of the Hamakua Coast. After leaving Keoni to his weaving, we headed up Highway 19 (also called the Belt Road) toward the northern tip of the Big Island.

It's an enchanting drive along the eastern flank of the Mauna Kea volcano. The road follows a route that once bore a sugar cane train from the north side of the island down to Hilo. It was devastated when 30-foot tsunami waves pounded the coast in 1946, but while the rail line was abandoned, a salvage operation was at least able to make it passable for cars.

Some 39 rivers and streams flow down the mountainside between Hilo and the Waipio Valley in the north, and at many points the road crosses them on towering bridge spans that provide glimpses into an unimaginably lush landscape. At other places, the road penetrates deep into gulches to follow the mountain contours. Stay alert and you'll spot numerous waterfalls deep in the mountain clefts, cascading over black lava rock.

For a more unhurried impression, be sure to make a short detour up the mountainside to Akaka Falls State Park. Two paved trails wind through the dense rain forest to overlooks of Kahuna Falls and Akaka Falls - the latter, at 422 feet, the tallest in the Hawaiian Islands.

The easy one-mile trail that takes in the falls is a treat in itself because the vegetation of the park is so diverse and prolific. Orchids grow wild along the path, banana trees have leaves as big as surfboards, and vines engulf entire tree trunks. You'll also find heliconia, ginger, bamboo, ferns, philodendrons, azaleas and birds of paradise.

On this gentle walk, it's amusing to come across 20-foot waterfalls that don't even have names. Put these cascades in Yosemite and they'd warrant parking areas and postcards.

We continued on up the coast highway, noticing that guava trees grow wild along the shoulder, dropping bushels of the juicy fruit onto the road to be squished by pickup trucks.

On the north side of Mauna Kea, it's advisable to angle off on Highway 240 through the appealing plantation town of Honokaa, with its frontier storefronts and plank sidewalks, for a run out to the Waipio Lookout. We picked up bento boxes and drinks from a market in Honokaa - a good tip at midday, since there are no food services at the end of the road.

The Waipio Valley, far below the overlook, is time-capsule Hawaii, a settlement of taro farmers and recluses in a richly fertile expanse fronted by a gray-sand beach. It was prime real estate for the early Hawaiians (Kamehameha I was born here), and at one time may have supported 7,500 inhabitants.

Tour vans will whine down a road of 25 percent grade to carry you to the valley floor, or you can walk the road - but only if you're hardy; the climb out is punishing.

On the return drive along the Hamakua Coast, we swung down a side road to the coastal settlement of Laupahoehoe. It sits on a lava shelf below the cliffs and has provided a valuable outlet to the sea for centuries, but the geography proved to be a curse in 1946. That's when a tsunami slammed into the coast and engulfed a school at the tip of the point. A memorial commemorates the 24 victims - 20 of whom were under age 18.

The same storm blasted Hilo, and a similar one delivered a second punch in 1960. But by then the city's prospects as a tourist destination had already been undermined. In the heyday of sugar cane, a breakwater was constructed to make the bay more favorable for landing ships, and a seawall was built to accommodate a rail line along the water's edge.

The shoreline's remaining sand was washed away, and the breakers ceased to roll in. Later, when tourists turned their noses up at the town's average annual rainfall of 130 inches, it was almost as if Hilo ceased trying to attract them.

Today, many of the city's buildings are vacant, its storefronts shabby. Sidewalks are cracked and planters are choked with weeds (a sure sign of neglect in a place where flowering shrubs will flourish without the least attention).

And while most Hawaiian coastal towns celebrate their beach frontage with pedestrian walks, barefoot bars and the like, Hilo Bay is rimmed by a high-speed thoroughfare for cars. There are few crosswalks protected by lights, and pedestrians seem to be the object of some kind of sport.

Even Mooheau Park, which lies between downtown and the bay, has an unbroken 4-foot fence of chain link deterring any visitors from wandering down to the water's edge.

Faced with these obstacles to enjoyment, you shrug your shoulders and try to seek out Hilo's best. It's at this point that it tosses you a few pleasant surprises.

Chief among them is the Hilo Bay Market, convened downtown at 8 a.m. every Wednesday and Saturday. This is no tourist bazaar. It is a working farmers market for the people who live here, and features the wares of more than 100 local farmers and crafts people.

You'll quickly conclude that the bounty of the island's well-watered east coast is astounding. Flowers are dizzying in their array and intoxicating in their scent: anthuriums, ginger, beautiful leis. Produce includes papaya, mango, lettuce, taro roots, macadamia nuts. A woman with bags of mixed lettuce sold out by 10 a.m.

The fishermen bring their catch here, too, posting signs - ``Fresh Hook'' - that indicate it was just pulled from the ocean. You'll encounter varieties you've never seen on the menus at the resorts on the other side of the island: taape, akule, moana kali, kumu. We wished we were staying in a place with a kitchen or barbecue grill just to try some of them.

Meanwhile, the prepared foods reflect the rich ethnic mix that stems from the importation of labor for the cane fields: Japanese musubi, Korean-style saba, Peruvian tamales, Spanish rolls.

Beyond the market, you can wade into a sea of orchids and anthuriums at Orchids of Hawaii. This isn't a botanical garden charging admission but rather a working nursery seeking customers - but no one minds if you wander among the blossoms and gawk.

Visitors can marvel at nature's force at the Pacific Tsunami Museum, which chronicles the two-punch assault Hilo suffered in the last half- century. Or at the Lyman Museum, they can peruse artifacts of ancient Hawaiian culture: bamboo printing, wooden bowls and sculpture, kapa cloth, feather crafts, petroglyphs. The collection, housed in a former missionary residence, is of Bishop Museum caliber.

There are indications of a semblance of renaissance in Hilo.

At the vintage Palace Theater, a slack-key guitar concert was headed by one of the famed Pahinui brothers, Cyril.

The shopping was first-rate at Dreams of Paradise (art gallery), Dragon Mama (quilting fabric) and Nana Hou (baskets, hats). Basically Books stocked some rare volumes, including a 1913 Hawaii guidebook written by a member of a missionary family, plus such kitschy Hawaiiana items as hula girl ash trays and hibiscus salt-and-pepper shakers. In Hilo you won't find a single Starbucks, Gap or Sam Goody, and there is some comfort in that.

A delicious lunch can be found at the casual Canoes Cafe. Come evening, a culinary oasis was discovered at Cafe Pesto, where Hawaiian regional dishes were excellent, including gourmet pizzas from an ohia-wood-fired oven. Four Big Island microbrews were available, including Hilo Tsunami Lager.

But short of a major infusion of urban-renewal dollars, Hilo will probably have to rely heavily on the natural wonders that surround it to get travelers to take notice.

Early one morning, we headed up Waianuenue Avenue to an overlook of Rainbow Falls, barely a mile from the city center. The low rays of the sun behind us lit up the mists at its base and, voila, the waterfall's namesake was manifest.

Maybe all that rain has its selling points after all.

IF YOU GO

HILO HIGH POINTS:

-- Hilo Bay Market: Held every Wednesday and Saturday beginning at 8 a.m. at the corner of Mamo Street and Kamehameha Avenue. Information: www.hilofarmersmarket.com.

-- Lyman Museum: 276 Haili St. Open Mondays through Saturdays from 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Admission is $7 for adults, $5 for seniors (age 60 and up), $3 for students (ages 6 to 17). Information: [phone]; www.lymanmuseum.org.

-- Historical Walking Tour. Self-guided. Pick up a brochure at the tourist information kiosk or the police substation in Mooheau Park.

-- Noteworthy shops: Basically Books, 76 Kamehameha Ave.; Dreams of Paradise, 308 Kamehameha Ave., Suite 106; Hana Hou, 164 Kamehameha Ave.; Dragon Mama, 266 Kamehameha Ave.

-- Palace Theatre: 38 Haili St. [phone] or [phone]; www.hilopalace.com.

-- Orchids of Hawaii: 2801 Kilauea Ave. [phone]. Open Mondays through Fridays 7 a.m. to 4 p.m.

OFF THE SHELF: A comprehensive guidebook to the Hamakua Coast is ``The Rough Guide to Hawaii'' (Rough Guides; $20.95).

LODGING: Avoiding the high-rise hotels, we opted for the Bay House Bed & Breakfast and were pleased with its charm and immaculate cleanliness. It sits right on the water at the north end of Hilo Bay, catching the ocean breezes, and at night you can fall asleep to the sound of the water lapping at the shore. An outdoor spa tub is positioned to overlook the bay. Town is within walking distance, but don't try it - absent a sidewalk or pathway, you have to walk much of the way on the shoulder, and that's too treacherous on the busy highway into Hilo. 42 Pukihae St. Rooms from $105 per night. Information: [phone] or [phone]; www.bayhousehawaii.com.

DINING: Canoes Cafe is an excellent - and casual - option for lunch, with inventive sandwiches and salads. 14 Furneaux St. [phone]; www.canoescafe.com. The best dinner in Hilo can be had at Cafe Pesto (and second place isn't in sight). Proprietor David Palmer opened a pizzeria here in 1988 and has gradually upgraded it to a delightful dining room, with rattan furniture and high ceilings. The menu features pastas, risottos, calzones and gourmet pizzas (as you might conclude from the name), but also what the house calls ``creative island cuisine'' - grilled local fish with soy-mustard vinaigrette, mango-glazed chicken, etc. 308 Kamehameha Ave. [phone]; www.cafepesto.com.

INFORMATION: Big Island Visitors Bureau: [phone] or [phone]; www.bigisland.org.

CAPTION(S):

8 photos, box, map

Photo:

(1 -- 2 -- color) Rainbow Fall, one of numerous cascades on the rain- drenched Hamakua Coast of Hawaii's Big Island, is just outside the town of Hilo. One of the spectacular viewpoints on the coast is the Waipio Valley Overlook, top.

(3 -- color) Keoni Mersberg weaves baskets and tells stories on a remote road above Onomea Bay.

(4) At the Hilo Bay Market, held Wednesdays and Saturdays, the selection of produce, flowers and ``fresh hook'' fish astonishes.

(5) Slack-key guitarists play the Palace Theatre in Hilo.

(6) Historic storefronts give Hilo a distinctive look, but one finds the city a bit down at the heels. The blight should not deter visitors from hunting down Hilo's scattered charms.

(7) Akaka Falls - at 422 feet the tallest in the Hawaiian Islands - is a popular stop for visitors to the Humakua Coast.

(8) Orchids of Hawaii displays a huge array of local flora.

Eric Noland/Travel Editor

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IF YOU GO (see text)

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HAWAII'S HAMAKUA COAST