Big River, Mendocino, California, USA. August 2026

If you are lucky enough to get a sunny day on the Mendocino Coast at anytime of the year, it is something to be admired. Savored. Relished. Take it when you can get it. This summer, in honor of my dad turning 70 years old and my niece celebrating her 16th birthday, our family spent the weekend in the Fort Bragg/Mendocino area. On this weekend, the sun smiled upon us for our entire visit.
Aside from an overpriced, rundown hotel and losing a monster fish while fishing off the rocks (still haunted by that one), the weekend was all we could have asked for. In the afternoon of our last day, we packed up and headed to Big River beach area, a popular spot where the Pacific Ocean merges into Big River. Seals, kayakers, and paddle boarders head up the river often and fallen trees from the wooded side of the river create natural play structures in the water. The soft sand and serene view make it an ideal spot every visit to the coast. Truthfully, it was a perfect day to be there.
Me, my wife, and our daughters arrived there before the rest of the family so we parked in the gravel lot, hauled out some camping chairs, and planted on the beach not far from the water. A cool breeze mixed with the vibrant sun. There we sat or laid out on the sand as I sipped on a bottle of Old Stock Ale from North Coast Brewing. Living on Big Island the last several years, it didn’t feel right to sit at the beach without music. Walking down any beach in Hawai’i, the coalescing melodies of island vibes drift from every campsite or group, creating an endless wave of music. For better or for worse.
Naturally, I pressed play on a list of Hawaiian artists and songs on my Apple Music. Songs played at ohana gatherings and car rides while living on island. ‘Hawaiian Hammah’, Hapa, ‘Henehene Kou ‘Aka’, ‘Oiwi E’, High Watah. The list of artists and songs is majah. So here I sat, playing my Hawaiian songs and enjoying the pristine beach weather and a delicious golden ale. Everything should have been fine.
By the time ‘Piukeona’ came on, I had no idea what had been creeping up inside of me. I tried to sing along with Weldon Kekauoha’s iconic voice, but something snatched the melody out of my throat. A gut punch perhaps. I simply couldn’t sing as the pressure built behind my eyes.
The loss of home had found me.
Kua Bay took my voice and released it into its blue waters. The crashing waves at Wawaloli Beach Park drowned out the melody with each roar. My lanai and the symphony of mynas, parrots, cardinals, sang the melody I could not. The jagged a’a I once stood on fishing for ulua and the many scrapes it etched into my skin. Ulu and mango trees outside my door. Malasadas at Tex. Open sunroofs driving down Mud Lane. Moa crowing at all hours. Nano’s lau lau and Z’s butter mochi. Jacob’s coffee flan.
‘Piukeona’ became the laughter of the Saavedra keiki and sports talk with Travi-Trav, Ivan, and Easton. Doing gainers off the pier with young guys and messing our bodies up. Pau hana at night with laser tag chaos on the mauna. New Year’s Eve got nutz. Molkky with the Moore’s. A place where people know what mauka and makai mean. Slippah piles so big you couldn’t get through the door. Kanani dancing hula to ‘Pua Kiele’ and teaching my daughters the spirit of hula. The interwoven melody of the people and the aina I can’t remove from my soul.
Once the tears dried and the beer was finished, the melody returned to me and I could sing again.

 

Stereo Story 898

 

aina – the land
a’a – rough jagged lava rock
lanai – patio or porch
majah – Hawaiian pidgin for “major”
mauna – mountain
ohana gatherings -family gatherings
pau hana – finished or done with work, usually referring to relaxing with others at the end of the day

 

N.T. McQueen lived in Hawaii for several years before recently returning to California. “My heart,” he says, “is in Hawaii.”

N.T. McQueen is a writer and professor in California. He earned his MA in Fiction from CSU-Sacramento and his writing has been featured in issues of the North American Review, Stonecoast Review, Entropy, Sunlight Press, Spillwords, Camas: Nature of the West, Stereo Stories, and others. His novels include the award winning Never Hide from the Devil (Cynren), Faces in the Flames (Silent Clamor Press), The Cry of Dry Bones, and Between Lions and Lambs. He enjoys writing, fishing, and traveling with his wife and daughters.