There are mornings like this: waking up and looking out over a pristine beach and a slightly roiled ocean.  Slathering on suntan lotion, hopping out of the camper, piling the critter in the backpack and just starting to walk down the beach.

The entrance to the Cathedral Cove hike (about 2 hours, moderate walk) begins at the Hahei campground beach.  Along the path, there are deep shady places watched over by giant ferns.  There are spots where the trail crests above the tree line and you can see the ocean and the islands that track the shore. There are dolphins out there somewhere.  The trail is well maintained, though we keep expecting to get "there" and we don't, not just yet.

We trade off with the baby backpack and the other backpack that carries all of the baby gear.  We put on more sunscreen.  She falls asleep as we walk.  We are with family and we talk quietly about family things.

The trail comes to an end at a steep staircase, and we can see a sliver of beach through the trees.  She wakes up as we reach the bottom of the stairs, and we lift her out to run around on the sand.  It's a nice beach.  Pretty. 

Then we turn and notice the sea cave that another hiker is walking through.  It drums with the waves.  We put her back in the pack and head to the cave.  Which isn't a cave - it's a tunnel.  On the other side, a completely different, hidden beach.  Whiter sand.  Mammoth rocks rising out of the deep blue ocean.  A spot that feels entirely separate from the world.

We barely notice the other people there.  We sit and watch her play on the sand.  Dip her toes in the water.  Promise never to tell anyone about this place.  Promise to come back as soon as possible.