Dreaming of the perfect home away from Home? You're in luck! In our annual everything-you-need-to-know guide to villas rentals, Consumer News Editor Wendy Perrin shares foolproof strategies for scoring amazing villas at amazing prices (she found hers on Hawaii's Big Island) and reveals the 46 top rental agents who hold the keys to prime properties all over the globe

It wasn't our villa's secluded black sand beach, where we watched mother and baby whales frolic and leap out of the water. It wasn't the primeval black-lava flow on which the villa—called Shimmering Lagoon—lay hidden from civilization. It wasn't the coconut tree-fringed lagoon itself, a spring-fed oasis filled with the clearest water I've ever snorkeled in and exotic flora in every shade of green. No, the thing that convinced me that I had found "the real Hawaii"—the ancient, mystical Big Island that too many travelers sealed off at beach resorts miss—was the mo'owahine, the water spirit living in our lagoon.

A mo'owahine (moe-oh-wah-HEE-neh) is a mythical creature—like a mermaid, only with the bottom half of a lizard—that is the spiritual guardian of certain historic Hawaiian sites, including the Kohala Coast fishpond that gives Shimmering Lagoon its name and used to be a rest stop for Hawaiian royalty as they canoed up and down the shoreline. (The lagoon is more commonly known by its Hawaiian name, but in order to avoid trespassers, the owner asked that I not reveal it here.) Legend has it that the mo'owahine can be spotted sitting on the rocks by her pond at night, combing her long black hair and singing her hypnotic siren's song. My six-year-old swears he saw her. I failed to catch a glimpse, although, after hearing all about her from locals who believe that spirits dwell in their land and plants and mist, I half expected to. The lagoon is just that magical, the lava flow just that otherworldly. When the locals instructed us to ask the mo'owahine's permission before entering her pond and not to pollute it in any way, you can bet we fell in line.

Our lagoon even played a role in the rise to power of Kamehameha the Great, the man who unified the Hawaiian Islands. In 1791, Kamehameha and his cousin Keoua, a rival chief, were battling for control of the Big Island. Kamehameha built a mighty war temple, Pu'ukohola Heiau—now a National Historic Site up the coast from Shimmering Lagoon—and invited Keoua to its dedication ceremony. Sensing that he had an appointment with death, Keoua decided to foil Kamehameha's plans for the perfect sacrifice: He cut off his manhood—at our lagoon. He then continued paddling up the coast to the temple, where he was indeed slain. With Keoua's death, Kamehameha became king of Hawaii and went on to consolidate the islands. I didn't share this story with the kids, though: I was happier to have my six- and seven-year-old snorkelers searching the pond for a mo'owahine than for Keoua's manhood.

How on earth had I ended up on sacred land, amid a nature reserve along the Ala Kahakai National Historic Trail, in a sprawling 3,900-square-foot beach house that almost nobody knows is there? Anne Pawsat-Dressler, that's how. Pawsat-Dressler, of Hawaii Hideaways, is one of the experts on our fifth annual list of the world's best villa rental agents (click here for "Perrin's People," turn the page). My mission, I had told her, was to find the real Hawaii, and to do so affordably. She had suggested the Big Island because it is relatively undeveloped and because, unlike Maui—where the local government has declared many vacation homes illegal to rent—it has no such regulations, nor are any anticipated. She recommended Shimmering Lagoon because, for a four-bedroom beachfront Kohala Coast home whose closest neighbors are palaces owned by pacemaker inventor Earl Bakken and hair care guru John Paul DeJoria, it's relatively affordable at $8,000 per week, including the 12.4 percent tax. Fill Shimmering Lagoon with the ten people it can sleep and the cost is $114 per person per night. Use only two of the bedrooms, as my family of four did, and you'll pay $5,875 per week—$420 per bedroom per night. You get your own beach (which is public—like all Hawaiian beaches—though rarely used by others), lagoon, almost-floor-to-ceiling windows framing million-dollar ocean views, palatial wraparound lanai, hammock, outdoor grill, and even water toys (kayaks, bodyboards, snorkel gear). Not to mention a magical mo'owahine.