A few weeks into my stay at Hawaii, I took a hike over a mile or so of rough lava terrain toward the coast. There’s a small patch of jungle south of where I stayed and if you can find your way over the lava and through the foliage, a beautiful tree stands alone on the cliffs in a small green clearing. It’s a great place to sit, read, meditate, or exercise. On this particular day I decided to try something new, and get some full-body tanning done. What better place to be alone than a remote coastal location hidden behind lava and jungle?

So naturally, several minutes into my tanning I heard voices.

Two young men and a young woman came from the opposite approach I’d taken around the jungle patch, meaning they’d hiked through the longer and thicker part side of the coast. It was absurdly unlikely, there was nothing in particular to see in this area and few people living nearby. I scrambled to get myself half-covered, although in retrospect nudity wouldn’t have shocked them in this part of Hawaii. It’s pretty common.

They had stopped at a formation of lava jutting out into the ocean and I decided to go see what they were up to. They were well equipped with heavy hiking gear, machetes, radio gear, the works. Turns out they were a Hawaiian survey team seeking out non-indigenous plant species for eradication. They really were among the few people who’d have any reason to be on this part of the island. Two of them were even born on the island, the first native Hawaiians I had met among a host of hippie pretenders.

The survey team had stopped for a little fun. There was a part of this cliff where one of them could climb down to a lower rock formation on the level of the waves. His friend spotted the water as he climbed, calling to him to return when a large swell was coming. The cliffs are a dangerous place where the water hits the rock. With bad timing, he would be swept off the rock and slammed into the cliff edge. There’s no swimming away from that.

But these seasoned Hawaiians had a method and a purpose. The edges of those lower wet rocks were lined with a kind of shellfish common on the cliffs, and the guy was prying them off to take back up. To eat.

My initial impression was they would collect and cook the mussels up later. Nope. When they had enough, they took out their knives, popped out that slimy fleshly lump and sucked it right down. At least two of them did, one of the guys was new to this cuisine and had to spit his out. But the other two enjoyed it well enough.

They offered me one. “No thanks,” I said, “I like sashimi but I require that it be dead first.”