The Yin and Yang of O'ahu: Travel Guide To Hawaii's Most Populous Isle

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I first glimpsed the storied North Shore of Oahu through the scratched window of a city bus. Not a tour bus, not a rental car, but a $2.50 ride out of Honolulu and into something real.

Many visitors view the island through plush coaches and air-conditioned vans, swept along from lookout to lookout before returning to Waikiki by dinnertime. My bus had ripped vinyl seats and a quiet local driver who wasn’t there to narrate, just to get to the next stop on schedule. Armed with a backpack, a cell phone, and a tendency to integrate with locals, public transit has always been my preferred way to travel.

Town to Country, Fast

The shift from city to coast on Oahu is abrupt. One minute, you’re surrounded by concrete on the H1 Freeway; then you pass through Wahiawa and the Dole pineapple plantation, and suddenly the ocean opens up and the North Shore comes into view.

Between Haleiwa and Sunset Beach lies the “Seven Mile Miracle,” a stretch of coastline with over three dozen surf breaks. Even if you don’t consider yourself a surfer, you can’t help but sit in awe of the waves. They are born from storms hundreds, even thousands of miles away, marching toward the reef with power and precision until they explode in dramatic fashion.

The bus route passed Waimea Bay first. With childlike wonder I exited and stepped onto the sand, beginning what would become a long and evolving love affair with the island.

Waimea Bay: Natural Amphitheater of the Pacific

Of all the beaches I’ve visited in Hawaii, Waimea Bay has a unique quality. It feels like an amphitheater to the Pacific Ocean. The sloped bottom eventually drops off into the deep blue, where the water turns from friendly to infinite. In winter, people swimming underwater can often hear the songs of humpback whales echoing through the bay. Years later, when I would live on the island, I spent countless hours suspended below the surface, letting the rhythm of the waves overhead and the whale song in the distance remind me how deeply connected we are to the natural world.

The same underwater topography that creates this serenity also gives rise to some of the biggest, most powerful waves on Earth. And at the edge of the parking lot stands a tribute to Eddie Aikau—a legendary lifeguard and big wave surfer who gave his life at sea while trying to rescue crewmates from the capsized Hokulea sailing canoe. Today, “The Eddie” surf contest is held in his honor, but only when the waves reach a certain size. In over 40 years, it’s only run 11 times. As they say, “The Bay calls the day.”

When the Bay Called the Day

Fast forward more than a decade, and I’m back—this time with my family in tow. The Bay had called. “The Eddie” was on. More than 50,000 people descended on Waimea with just 48 hours' notice.

The peaceful quiet I’d experienced years earlier was replaced by the buzz of a major sporting event. By sheer luck, I happened to be driving past the bay just as the contest was given the green light, and had a Soli shade canopy in the back of the car. I staked out a spot above the shore, securing enough space for my two small children and a clear view of the action. On a scorching day with no shade, that made all the difference.

From our perch, we watched some of the best surfers in the world attempt to ride some of the biggest waves ever ridden at Waimea. It was a stark contrast to the tranquility I remembered, yet both experiences struck my heart in their own right.

A Place of Contrast

Contrast, really, is the theme of this island. I usually avoid the “something for everyone” cliché, but Oahu truly does straddle opposites. The North Shore offers beaches both inviting and dangerous, depending on the day. The laid-back island vibe of the locals coexists with the presence of military jets in the sky and navy ships offshore. And no contrast is more striking than going from the raw beauty of the North Shore to the high-rise hum of Waikiki.

That’s not to say Waikiki isn’t welcoming. The Aloha spirit shines here, too. Once home to Hawaiian royalty and the birthplace of surfing, it’s now a modern hub of hotels, shops, and nightlife. Yet it still holds its charm, especially if you know where to look.

Waikiki, Family Style

These days, with two small children, hopping on a bus with a backpack and no plan isn’t as feasible. So we checked into the Twin Fin Hotel, a recently renovated high-rise on the south end of Waikiki. Its prime location offered something I hadn’t expected to value so much: calm water.

Right in front of the hotel is a protected lagoon where no waves come in. It was here my two-year-old daughter fell in love with the beach. The North Shore is wild and awe-inspiring, but for a toddler, it can be overwhelming. In contrast, these shallow, peaceful waters welcomed her to play without fear.

Another surprise highlight was the Honolulu Zoo, just next door. I’m not a big zoo person, but compared to others I’ve visited, Honolulu’s is up there. Maybe it’s the warm climate, but the broad selection of animals captivated my daughter, who had only ever seen them in books. The look on her face said it all: wonder, disbelief, joy.

And of course, Waikiki offers another major benefit to parents: food delivery. Our kids don’t have the patience for long restaurant meals yet, so being able to order takeout to the room was a game-changer. It’s not the most culturally immersive thing we’ve done in Hawaii, but sometimes practicality wins. My former self might have rolled his eyes at pizza delivery on vacation—but travel evolves with life.

Oahu Meets You Where You Are

Whatever stage of life you’re in, Oahu meets you there. Maybe we all carry both the wild and the cosmopolitan within us, and this island gives us space to experience both. Whether you’re here as a backpacker, a family traveler, a wave-chaser, or a nature-seeker, Oahu finds a way to offer something personal.

As a new father, I look forward to the day when my children venture beyond the calm lagoon and into the wild sea. But for now, I’m content watching them fall in love with the water, just like I did, only from the safety of the shallows. The North Shore will still be there the next time we pass the pineapple fields.

You can read more from Steve Andrews at excellentfamilyadventures.com and see his creative work at steveandrews.media.