Prompt: Describe your most memorable vacation.

When I think about memorable vacations, Hawaii in 2017 shoots straight to the top. Not just because of the island views, warm breezes, and spam-for-breakfast kind of charm — but because this trip had everything: family, beauty, history… and a stomach bug that nearly took us down.

The plan was simple: head to Hawaii for my brother Jeff’s Navy retirement and turn it into a bit of a family reunion. My wife, Daryl, our daughter Lizzi, and I flew out to meet my parents and other relatives for what we figured would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Spoiler: it definitely was. Just… not always for the reasons we expected.

We flew in just after New Year’s, and that first glimpse of the islands from the plane was incredible. Our home base was the Navy Lodge on Ford Island, smack in the middle of Pearl Harbor. It’s one thing to visit a historic site; it’s another thing entirely to stay in one. Bullet holes from the attack are still visible in places. It felt like we were walking through a living piece of history.

Things took a turn before we even landed — Lizzi got sick on the plane. She bounced back pretty quickly, but it turned out she was the opening act. The 24-hour stomach bug made itself known just after I wrapped up a round of golf. Daryl got it first and spent the next day in bed. Then, just as she was recovering, it hit me — hard. I was mid-tour on the U.S.S. Missouri when it all went south. I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say… that historic battleship saw a second battle that day, and I lost.

I somehow pulled myself together enough to make it to Jeff’s ceremony that afternoon (because nothing says “respect for your brother’s 20-year Navy career” like standing very still and trying not to barf). I made it through — but crashed immediately afterward and missed the entire party. It was brutal. At that point, we were wondering if this trip was cursed.

But Saturday came, and like magic, we were all finally healthy again. That day felt like pure joy. We kept it low-key—wandered the giant swap meet at Aloha Stadium, ate some surprisingly amazing Chinese food, and tracked down Liliha Bakery for their famous Coco Puffs (yes, the ones we saw on Hawaii Five-0). After the last 48 hours, just being upright and able to eat was enough to make it one of the best days ever.

Once we were back on our feet, we really dove into the rest of the trip. On Sunday, we found a local church to attend, then had lunch with my dad and stepmom at Nico’s Pier 38. Fresh fish, ocean breeze, great conversation—can’t beat it.

Monday might have been the most “Hawaii” day of them all. We started with a very local McDonald’s breakfast (Spam, eggs, and rice—don’t knock it until you try it), then took a scenic drive to the North Shore for shave ice at Matsumoto’s. It’s like eating sweet, tropical snow—absolutely worth the hype. From there, we cruised around the island’s east side and found a quiet beach to dip our toes in the Pacific and watch kids bouncing on a trampoline in the surf. That night, we went to the Polynesian Cultural Center, which is kind of like Epcot for island cultures. The luau there—complete with Kalua pork cooked underground all day—was out of this world.

And through it all, the history of where we were never left us. The U.S.S. Arizona Memorial was especially powerful. Seeing the oil still rising from the ship is haunting. And knowing the U.S.S. Missouri — where the Japanese formally surrendered — is anchored just a few hundred feet away? It’s a powerful thing to witness both the beginning and the end of a war in one place. That Jeff retired on the deck of the Missouri made it all feel so full-circle. It was bigger than just a family event. It was history meeting personal story most incredibly.

On our last day, we tried to squeeze in Waikiki Beach. Two quick lessons: the Pacific Ocean in January is way colder than it looks, and that soft-looking beach? Mostly coral. Still worth it, but not exactly relaxing. Our final meal before heading to the airport turned out to be a surprise highlight—some of the best sushi and sashimi we’ve ever had, tucked away in a random little airport spot. Go figure.

As our plane took off in the dark, we couldn’t see the islands below us anymore. But I didn’t need to. The memories from that week—some perfect, some chaotic, all unforgettable—were already burned into my brain.

It wasn’t a flawless vacation, but it was real. And it was ours. And honestly, that’s what made it perfect.

Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt