This idyllic place holds a grim reminder of nature’s fury. On April 1, 1946, a tsunami swept across the schoolhouse that once stood on this lava-leaf (that’s what laupahoehoe means) peninsula and claimed the lives of 24 students and teachers, who had at first not known what to make of the receding waves that returned each time with more power. Their names are engraved on a stone memorial in this pretty little beach park, while a separate display holds newspaper stories on the tragedy. The land here ends in black sea stacks that resemble tombstones; when high surf crashes on them, it’s positively spooky (and dangerous if you stand too close). The unprotected shoreline is not a place for swimming, but the views are spectacular. Facilities include restrooms, picnic tables, and drinking water.