Port Allen Airport (PAK), Kauai, Hawaii

Updated on 24 December 2025. Birds in Paradise is no longer in operation. Details below reflect the experience at the time of my flight.

I didn’t get much sleep the night before, thinking about the next day’s scheduled activity. A few days ago, at the suggestion of a friend, I reserved an early morning sightseeing and instruction flight in a powered glider. Also known as a flex-wing glider, and legally known as a weight-shift control aircraft, this class of aircraft has very few aerodynamic controls. Moving the control bar left and right, up and down, allows the pilot to navigate in three dimensions by flexing the wing, similar to the wing warping in Orville and Wilbur Wright’s first powered aircraft. I didn’t know it then, but I would soon learn that it would take me a bit to get used to, as the control operation is exactly opposite to the yoke or joystick control in a powered plane.

The other half of our flight of two was taxiing for takeoff at sunrise

We arrived at the airport before sunrise. Moments after we arrived, two powered gliders from ‘Birds in Paradise Fly Kauai’ taxied into view. After signing the obligatory liability release, I was fitted with a helmet, gloves, a headset, and a flight suit. The flight suit would provide warm covering as we proceeded over and around Waimea Canyon. Known as the Grand Canyon of the Pacific, the canyon’s rugged and rocky walls reach an elevation of around 4000 feet. We would need to be safely above that for our flight training maneuvers. The air above the canyon is noticeably cooler than the surface, and I would soon be glad to have the extra clothing.

Gerry, my instructor, prepares the nose camera before our flight while I hold the wing control down so Gerry can reach the end of the boom

Preparation for flight included the usual seat belt and life vest safety briefing, and Gerry Charlebois, my instructor pilot, installed the rear-facing camera that would record an image every 30 seconds of our flight. The one-hour flight is legal flight instruction, and at the conclusion of the flight, documentation is provided to insert in a pilot’s logbook, validating the training toward any future rating. While I was getting ready, another flight student arrived. He was scheduled to depart on the second aircraft.

Gerry takes a “selfie” with the DSLR just before take off

We left Port Allen Airport as a flight of two, but shortly after takeoff, our two aircraft went their separate ways.

Shortly after departure, we are flying along the coastline. Port Allen Airport is behind us at the tip, and the large white building on the pier is at the commercial seaport

With the airport, we departed on my flight lesson and sightseeing tour. We headed north up Hanapepe Canyon, then west toward Waimea Canyon. Every 30 seconds, the camera mounted on a boom at the wing’s apex snapped another photo.

A 360-degree turn over the canyon

Over the heart of Waimea Canyon, Gerry demonstrated a 360-degree turn and asked me to try one. I made it around, but needed some help getting back on our original heading. I went past 360 a little bit as we came around because I hadn’t exerted enough pressure in the opposite direction to stop our rotation. Even though there was flight training going on, I couldn’t help but admire the scenery below.

Over the ocean but always within gliding distance from the shore

We explored the canyon, and Gerry gave me a bird’s eye view of the observation area where we stood to view the canyon six years ago on our last trip to Kauai. From there, we headed west, and Gerry contacted the controller at the Navy’s Pacific Missile Range Facility, asking permission to transit their airspace along the west and south shores of the island.

Flying along the beach, I believe we are at Kekaha

Permission was granted, and we were soon rocketing along the beach at around 95 knots (about 110 mph or 175 kph). Gerry also kept his eyes toward the sea, hoping to spot a whale. There have been recent sightings, but it’s early yet, and Gerry hasn’t yet seen one this season. He did, however, spot a pod of dolphins frolicking near the shore. Moments later, we were circling the pod, with Gerry snapping away with his DSLR.

One of several shots of the pod of dolphins

All too soon, it was time to return to the airport and end this magical flight. I had been given the option of a 90-minute lesson, and with the rivers flowing deep in the canyons, the smooth, sandy beaches, and the deep blue Pacific Ocean all making tempting excuses to extend the flight for another thirty minutes; I resisted the temptation, knowing people were waiting for us on the ground, and we had other plans for the day.

Notice in this image, the propeller is stopped; at this point, we are less than five minutes from landing 

Gerry had one more treat in mind for me as we prepared for landing. About four minutes from touchdown, the engine went silent. Gerry had shut it down and, with his capable hands at the control bar, he guided us into an abbreviated traffic pattern, landed on the runway, and taxied to the ramp without engine power.

Almost all the photos for this post were taken by Gerry or captured by the nose‑mounted camera. Thank you, Gerry, for allowing me to share them. Because these flights were considered flight training, passengers weren’t permitted to bring cameras—you wouldn’t have had the time or free hands, and dropping gear in an open cockpit wasn’t a risk worth taking. At the time of my flight, Birds in Paradise offered a set of in‑flight photos for purchase after landing.

For this private pilot, rated for both land and seaplanes, this powered‑gliding experience remains one of the highlights of my aviation life. The bird’s‑eye view of Kauaʻi was an E‑ticket ride in every sense. His company, Birds in Paradise, is no longer operating following the tragic loss of my instructor, Gerry Charlebois, only a few months after my flight with him. I remain grateful for the experience he shared.

John Steiner