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More posts with lots more details and photos to follow…eventually…

After a final flurry of boat projects and purchases and a lovely sail off Waikiki with Kathy, we left Ala Wai Harbor on Sunday May 13th. We had a glorious sail to Lono Harbor on Moloka’i and spent two nights there, exploring the abandoned harbor both in and out of the water. On Tuesday, we motored (into the wind) over to Honolua Bay at the north end of West Maui. We anchored there for three nights and enjoyed some of the most spectacular snorkeling in the Islands. We watched two manta rays circling slowly while small cleaner wrasse attended them, we floated in one area with eight large green turtles around us, and we saw at least 90 species of fish and who knows how many types of coral…just amazing.

On Friday we sailed west and south around the corner to pick up a mooring at the Lahaina Yacht Club.  Given the absence of marina space, these moorings are convenient but rather rolly.  For the last two days we have rented a car and driven around West Maui and to Hana Bay (southeast Maui); both trips with very narrow, twisting but highly scenic coastal roads.

Our plan is to sail to La Perouse Bay at the southwest corner of Maui tomorrow (Monday) then try to go snorkeling at Molokini, a tiny island a couple of miles offshore of Maui, where conditions are supposed to be superb. We have to indulge in as much snorkeling as we can because once we set off for Alaska it could be a year or more before we can do it again…at least comfortably. From Molokini we plan to return to Ala Wai just to get fuel and then sail on to Kaua’i where we hope to catch-up with ‘Cayenne’ and ‘Seatime’ and we will wait for suitable weather for the passage to Alaska.

I should be able to catch up with the blog once we have finished our rather rushed explorations of Maui…

During our final couple of weeks at Ala Wai Harbor, we mostly continued the flurry of boat chores and provisioning (thankfully borrowing Kathy’s car for the biggest loads).  However, we also had a short wish-list of touristy things that we wanted to do in Honolulu that seemed foolish to postpone.  So on Saturday morning (April 28^th), we rode our bikes west through downtown, Chinatown, and beyond to spend the day at the Bishop Museum.  Unintentionally we had picked the HECO (Hawaiian Electric Company) “Grow Hawaiian Festival” (to celebrate Earth Day) when locals were able to enter for free.  At tents in the Museum grounds sustainable items were being sold (mostly plants and food) and activities associated with traditional Hawaiian culture were being demonstrated (e.g., pounding poi, carving instruments, and beating kapa – making a papery fabric from bark).  This made the place far more crowded than usual but everyone seemed to be having fun so it was a cheerful atmosphere.

We particularly enjoyed the two planetarium shows (“The sky tonight” and “Explorers of Polynesia”), the demonstration of molten lava, and the Hawaiian Hall Gallery.  The “Explorers” show gave us a very illuminating perspective of how the Polynesians navigated by the stars, inspiring me to resume my efforts to master celestial navigation using our sextant.  The three floors of the impressive Hawaiian Hall provided a beautiful summary, and additional surprising details, of the Hawaiian history that we had been assimilating over the last year, starting on the first floor with the pre-contact gods and legends in the “realm of the sea”.  The second floor dealt with the “realm of man” in the daily lives of ancient Hawaiians including the fascinating details of how almost every activity (especially farming and fishing) was assigned to specific days of the lunar cycle.  The third floor finished with the “heavenly realm” summarizing the reigns of Hawaiian rulers from King Kamehameha I to the overthrow of Queen Lili‘uokalani in 1893, and ending with an encouraging review of the Hawaiian renaissance of the 20^th century.

The Bishop Museum was founded in 1889 by Charles Reed Bishop as a memorial to his wife and as a place to preserve the many royal heirlooms that she left to him.  Princess Bernice Pauahi Bishop was the great-granddaughter and last surviving heir of King Kamehameha I and as a result her estate is the largest private landowner in Hawai‘i, accounting for about 9% of the state’s land area.  Revenues from this land support the Kamehameha Schools for native Hawaiian children which were established in 1887, according to the will of the Princess who died of breast cancer at age 52 in 1884.

We had visited the Hawaiian Hall for a reception on our work-related trip to Hawai‘i in 2004 and we could both vaguely remember the Museum’s grandeur and lay-out.  But we agreed that with a much better grasp of the general geography, history, and character of Hawai‘i, we found this visit to be much more meaningful and impressive. 

The scholarly tone of the day was not to be continued, however.  The evening found us walking into Waikiki to participate in the 10^th Annual SpamJam with about 20,000 other people.  Previously held elsewhere in Honolulu, this Waikiki event has become a good excuse to close part of the main street (Kalakaua Avenue), set-up two stages for various local bands (we arrived to see an Elvis impersonator surrounded by hula-girls), invite local vendors to sell stuff (including assorted Spam-related clothing items and toys), and encourage restaurants to offer their most tempting Spam-based dishes.  Oh, yes, if you brought cans of Spam with you, they were donated to the local foodbank.  Randall was fully prepared to enter the spirit of SpamJam and in doing so sampled Fried Spam wontons and Spam spring-rolls (his assessment of the former – OK, of the latter – rather tired).  After shunning the popular strawberry-and-Spam-ice-cream popsicles, I managed to find a tasty, three-item dessert-sampler that had slyly broken the Spam-must-be-included rule…or so it seemed.

We stayed to hear Henry Kapono perform a set with a couple of harmonica players.  One was Pat-the-Hat whom we recognized from Henry’s regular band, and the other was a wacked-out Californian member of the “Blues Hall of Fame” whose name we both instantly forgot.  Henry’s music was popular (we recognized several “fans” from when we had seen him play before) and the street was comfortably crowded so it was a fun event.  When we returned to the boat we felt compelled to conduct some research on the local popularity of Spam.

Spam (the name derived from ‘spiced ham’) was developed by Hormel Foods in 1937 and was spread throughout the Pacific Islands during the WW II period of US military occupation.  It became far more popular in the islands than it is on the mainland, where it is typically regarded as a low-income food.  On Guam, for example, every person on average consumes 16 cans a year and almost 7 million cans are eaten per year in Hawai‘i.  The so-called “Hawaiian steak” appears on many menus not only in local restaurants but also in national chains such as McDonalds.  Kathy and Dan told us that during the 2011 tsunami panic, signs in supermarkets limited customers to two cases of cans of Spam per person (24 cans per case)!  Although canned meats are not a regular item on Tregoning’s menus, we do stock some cans of tuna, chicken chunks, and turkey Spam when we are provisioning for a long passage. Lacking a large freezer and if we are not successful in catching fish, some of these cans start to look a bit more appetizing when at sea for several weeks…

Another Hawai‘i-associated item that we investigated in Honolulu was the ukulele (pronounced in Hawaiian as ooo-coo-lay-lay with no ‘you’-sound at the beginning).  A friend in Florida, Dwight, had suggested that we visit the Honolulu ukulele museum but unable to find one we decided to join a tour of the small Kamaka ukulele factory.  Our first surprise was to be joined by eight other people at 10:30 am on the daily tour and the second unexpected aspect was that the tour lasted for 90 minutes, more than twice as long as advertised.  The reason was because we were honored to be led by Fred Kamaka Sr. whose father, Samuel, had started the factory 96 years ago, and Fred had plenty to tell us.  Much of it was about ukuleles, their history and manufacture but he was also very fond of telling family stories interspersed with the evolution of the company’s philosophy.  Fred had worked in some capacity in the factory since 1930 when he was just five years old.  He and his brother had taken over from their father and now their sons had introduced computerized wood-cutting techniques and were ready to expand to a larger facility.

The bodies of Kamaka ukuleles are made from the Hawaiian endemic, koa wood while the necks are made of mahogany and the fret-boards are made of rosewood or ebony.  These are not the cheap-and-cheerful instruments that are sold to tourists in Walmart. Even the standard models of Kamaka ukuleles, which come in four sizes, are beautiful examples of craftsmanship and the lowest-priced instrument cost more than $800.  Ukuleles with custom-designed features, such as inlaid patterns of wood along the edge of the sound-box, cost several thousand dollars. 

Ukuleles were developed in the 1880s based on two small guitar-like instruments that were brought to Hawai‘i by Portuguese immigrants.  Samuel Kamaka developed the first instruments that differed from the miniature-guitar shape and these were dubbed ‘pineapple ukuleles’. There has been a resurgence of ukulele playing in recent years (thanks in part to the revival of Hawaiian heritage and to their use by famous musicians such as George Harrison).  Although there are now many more ukulele manufacturers around the world than during Fred’s youth, the Kamaka Company has maintained a profitable business by producing high-quality instruments that, sadly, were beyond the budget that Randall had intended to invest in one so we left the tour informed but empty-handed.

Having written-off the day (Friday, May 4^th) with regard to practical, boat-related activities we continued into downtown Honolulu and spent much of the afternoon on a self-guided tour of the ‘Iolani Palace.  Having cycled past and around this impressive building on many occasions, we decided that it would be ridiculous to leave Honolulu without visiting the only official royal residence (or palace) in the USA.  Modest in size and adornment by comparison to the palaces in London or Versailles, ‘Iolani Palace has been restored as an elegant and historically significant reminder of the independent nation that Hawai‘i used to be.

Built to replace an older, more rustic, royal residence, the ‘Iolani palace was opened during the reign of King David Kalakaua (a.k.a. the “Merrie Monarch”) in 1882 to demonstrate Hawai‘i’s status as a modern kingdom.  In addition to its stately layout and regal architecture, the palace boasted some of the first indoor plumbing, first electrical lights, and first (internal use) of the telephone not only in the Pacific but in the world.  After circumnavigating the world in 1881 and being the first king to visit the USA, King Kalakaua lived in the palace with his wife, Queen Kapi‘olani and his sister.  King Kalakaua was determined to show that his was a thriving, modern nation capable of participating in world affairs even from its remote location.

Somewhat surprisingly, King Kalakaua had claimed the monarchy in 1874 by election. The last monarch of the Kamehameha dynasty, King Kamehameha V had died in 1872 without naming an heir.  The following January, another member of the ali‘i class (chiefs), William Lunalilo was elected over David Kalakaua.  However, when Lunalilo died just over a year later, Kalakaua was elected monarch instead of Queen Emma, the widow of King Kamehameha IV who had been particularly popular with the native Hawaiians.

King Kalakaua’s own popularity increased when he began his reign with a tour of the Hawaiian Islands. Sadly, he died in 1891 in California where his doctor had sent him to try to improve his health but the first that the Queen and Hawaiians knew of this was when his returning ship was seen rounding Diamond Head with black garlands and flags flying at half-mast.  The festive decorations intended for his joyous return were rapidly ripped down and the welcoming party was converted to a stately and mournful funeral with his wife wailing from the palace balcony as his coffin was slowly marched home.

Having no children, King Kalakaua had named his sister to succeed him and she became Queen Lili‘uokalani.  She was distrustful of some of the foreign businessmen who had become very influential in Honolulu and she soon made it clear that she intended to revise the Hawaiian Constitution to reverse changes that has been forced upon her brother in 1887 in the so-called Bayonet Constitution. For example, the new constitution was intended to restore veto power to the monarchy and voting rights to economically disenfranchised native Hawaiians and Asians. 

By 1883, foreign businessmen and residents claimed that her failure to support the 1887 Constitution amounted to a virtual abdication.  Her actions were seen to be threatening to the influence, business, and strategic value of the islands to the USA and so Queen Lili‘uokalani was overthrown while a Provisional Government backed by the USA assumed power.  Although she vehemently opposed this action, she refused to be responsible for blood-shed during the overthrow and so agreed in writing to yield her authority to the US Government (significantly not the Provisional Government) while still expressing her anger and disgust at the situation.  Two years later after an uprising had been suppressed and despite her denials of involvement, she was convicted of aiding the rebels and was sentenced to a $5,000 fine and five years of hard-labor.  Instead, she was imprisoned with one maid in a room of the palace for nine months, she was forced to abdicate, and she then spent a further year under house-arrest.

After the Queen’s overthrow, the palace was converted to offices and meeting rooms for the Provisional Government and most of the royal furniture was sold.  Luckily, everything was documented before being dispersed around the world and gradually historians have been able to track down, return, and restore some of the original furnishings.  So although the rooms now appear rather empty compared to photos of the King’s cluttered bedroom and office, at least most of the furnishings are authentic items from the decade or so of royal use.

There were various interesting exhibits in the basement of the ‘Iolani Palace including the crown jewels and documentation about Father Damien and the Hansen’s disease (leper) colony at Kalaupapa on Moloka‘i.  It was in the Palace basement, that we read about the Congressional Resolution that President Clinton signed in 1993 which is informally known as the “Apology Resolution”.  This acknowledges the involvement of United States citizens and agents in the overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaii and that the Native Hawaiian people never directly relinquished to the US their claims to their “inherent sovereignty as a people over their national lands”.  Since this was the first time we had heard of this “apology” during our year’s stay in Hawai‘i, it appears that this belated and largely ceremonial act does not get much publicity in the Islands.

We finished our Hawaiian education for the day with a brief visit to the Hawai‘i State Art Museum which, given the “museum” name, surprised us by being very much focused on modern art.  We then met Kathy for dinner at a restaurant near her office and spent the night at her house.  The next morning Kathy drove us along Tantalus Drive, a scenic road around the rim of the next valley to the east from Kathy’s house, which has spectacular vistas of Honolulu.  It was impressive to look down into the Punchbowl National Cemetery, to see Diamond Head look relatively small and isolated, and to view the University of Hawai‘i campus spread out in the neighboring Manoa Valley.  The latter view from the Pu‘u ‘Ualaka‘a State Park was especially breathtaking and we were very pleased that we had taken the time to visit this last attraction on our “to do” list.  Since Kathy had not made this loop before, it was particularly pleasing that we had enjoyed it together.

Planning to actually leave Honolulu later in the week, perhaps on Thursday, we spent the rest of Saturday returning to the boat the items that Kathy and Dan had kindly stored for us (spare sails, drogue, extra blankets, etc.), completing our provisioning, and, reluctantly, returning Dan’s surfboard.  We enjoyed a tasty Mexican themed dinner (for Cinco de Mayo) and spent our last night at Kathy’s before saying our “provisional” good-byes and cycling back to Ala Wai.  Our plan was to leave Honolulu at the end of the week, spend a few days snorkeling in Moloka‘i and Maui, and then sail to Kauai to await departure to Alaska.  The timing of all this was, of course, going to be dependent upon the weather.

If April 2011 was a month at sea on our passage between The Galapagos and Hawai‘i, April 2012 has been a month of boat projects in preparation for going to sea again.  Some are routine activities like the inevitable cleaning and testing of equipment but others were one-off projects that almost always took longer than expected and for which we were glad to be staying in a city with access to a variety of hardware and boating-supply stores.  While Randall had to deal with the brunt of these types of projects (thank goodness for the great talents for home-improvement that he can muster, especially electrical wiring and plumbing), my role was mostly as “go-fer”, often cycling across town on successive days to get exactly the right part.

Perhaps the most arduous of these projects was the installation of a diesel-fueled heater, which started in earnest at the beginning of the month. While we waited for the fuel pump to arrive from the mainland, the major tasks were to mount the heater and thermally-protective ceramic tiles on the wooden bulkhead (wall) and thread all the fuel and electrical lines forward from the engine room.  But by April 16^th when Kathy called us to say that our package had arrived, the heater was ready.  Of course, we were a bit surprised after we had cycled downtown to Kathy’s office and opened the box to find that it actually contained four jars of mango chutney!  This was a kind gift from Bill and Mary in Hilo, sent after Randall had expressed to them how much he had enjoyed the first jar that they gave us.

Luckily the pump arrived the next day and once fitted, the final task was to drill, and then seal the edges of, a large hole for the chimney.  This was not an insignificant job because unfortunately Randall’s saw ran into a large block of hard resin in the gap between the deck and cabin roof but perseverance paid-off and on Monday, April 23^rd we finally, and successfully, tested the heater.  Sitting in the harbor in Honolulu, it was rather hard to imagine needing the heat but with the arrival of a lovely package of goodies from Jan and Michael that included several guidebooks for Alaska, we soon found ourselves looking forward to visiting the higher latitudes and cruising near glaciers.

Another “mission-critical” project was to replace the cable to the radar.  After several trips up the mast and much grunting and groaning as we pulled out the old cable and hauled in the new one, Randall made the final connections and…  Well, we had solved one problem but apparently created another and so still could not see any return-signals on the screen (despite being surrounded by hundreds of boats, not to mention a large island that should have shown-up).  Disappointed and frustrated, we called in an expert fearing that another part of the system would need to be replaced, undoubtedly having to come from the mainland at great expense.  However, after much testing Brian found that there was a problem with part of the new cable that we had installed, probably caused by our over-zealous hauling on it to get it in place.  Very luckily, it was the shorter, less-difficult-to-install piece (i.e., not up the mast) and the equivalent part of the old cable was not damaged.  So after re-replacing that part of the replacement cable all was well and the radar worked perfectly.

The final must-get-done task was to get the outboard running smoothly because we would likely be anchoring quite a bit more in Alaska than we had in Hawai‘i.  Despite getting a new gas tank (there was a suspicious dark grunge in the bottom of the old one), clean fuel, and cleaning fuel additives, the problem was not solved and so we again resorted to the experts.  After considerable internal cleaning and replacement of filters, impellors, and spark-plugs, the motor now runs smoothly and reliably so it was a pity that we had not realized the extent of the problem and fixed it before Mike’s visit.

Randall has had an assortment of other wiring, plumbing, and fixing projects, while I have been cleaning (making the most of the abundant supplies of water and sunshine) and keeping the sewing machine busy patching canvas and making a cover for when our new dinghy is on deck.  Steadily the long list of tasks has subsided and this is particularly satisfying as some of the projects have been on the list for quite a while.

It has not been all work, however.  Kathy joined us onboard for lunch and chocolate-treats (or in her case salty-treats) on Easter Day.  I surprised Randall with a “mystery date” one Saturday afternoon to see Henry Kapono and his band playing Hawaiian folk music (with some Jimmy Buffett-style dance songs thrown-in) in the Tropics Restaurant, just beyond the lagoon at the Hawaiian Hilton Village.  Although his music was new to me, we danced and had a great time while Randall reminisced about first hearing the spectacular harmonies of “Cecilio and Kapono” in 1976. 

A couple of times a week we went surfing.  Our spirits were willing to go everyday but projects and aches from our shoulders that were unaccustomed to paddling Dan’s big board out to the reef kept our ambitions modest.  Actually, we developed a pretty efficient system.  Randall carried Dan’s surfboard down our long dock to the beach as it was too wide to fit under my arm.  We then traded so that I paddled the surfboard out and tried catching some waves on the inner reef while Randall used the boogie board and fins.  We swapped equipment twice more so that I would paddle back into shore when we were exhausted and Randall carried the board back to the boat. 

We generally tried to surf in the mid-morning or mid-afternoon when it was least crowded but inevitably the better the waves the more crowded it became especially on the outer reef.   I managed to improve enough to get some fairly reliable and long rides standing-up and could see how addictive it could become as you got more used to the varying conditions and became a little bit better each time.  After a 40 year hiatus, Randall loved being back on a board (although, oddly, paddling was not as easy as it had been in his youth) and he was very happy that he caught several waves and stood-up while I was nearby and watching.

Once we had started surfing ourselves, it made sitting in our cockpit at mealtimes watching the local surfers even more enjoyable.  We had a much greater appreciation of the wave conditions and the skills on display.  One weekend, we were treated to a series of competitions (boys, girls, men, and women) at the Ala Moana Bowls, the surf break beyond the breakwater immediately off Tregoning’s bow.  For this world-class view and some spectacular sunsets, the 800-dock at Ala Wai is hard to beat.

We also cycled over to Ala Moana Park one afternoon and snorkeled off Magic Island. We picked a day with relatively little swell so that it was easy to get in and out of the gaps in the breakwater but there was still a fairly strong along-shore current to content with.  There were a good number of familiar species of fish especially in the turbulent water near the breakwater and we saw our first snowflake moray which is a very attractive and distinctly patterned eel.  We also picked up a weight from a diving-belt and several lead fishing weights, the latter Randall hopes to put to good use for fishing for halibut in Alaska.  On the subject of snorkeling treasure, the diamond ring I found at Hanauma Bay did not match any of their records of items reported missing.  So I sold it, sending half the money to the Friends of Hanauma Bay and using some of the rest to replace the snorkel I had lost there.

Although we have not seen any particularly unusual tropical fish in Ala Wai Harbor, I have noted at least 22 species (listed below) in the shallow waters between our dock and the breakwater.  This diversity seems impressive considering that the water is not pristine (thanks to all the harbor’s boats and all the junk that is carried down the Ala Wai Canal) and that, despite signs to the contrary, several local people spear fish from the dock every day.  The other extraordinary things that we have seen during our extensive walks along the dock are sea cucumbers.  Not just your regular 8 inch long by 3 inch diameter boring species (20 by 7 cm) but also some long, thin ones that look more like fancy, crimson curtain-ties than green prickly logs.  Misunderstanding the name that our neighbor Charles initially told me (assuming that it was some complicated Hawaiian word beginning with K), I finally discovered online that he had actually been saying “conspicuous sea cucumber”, a species that is not uncommon in sandy bays in Hawaii and which can extend to longer than 3ft (1 m).  Having failed to notice these nocturnal creatures before, I counted 11 of them the next day on my early morning pilgrimage to the marina bathrooms.  So much for being a trained observer of nature…

We also sailed once more on a Friday evening with Donna and friends on Urban Renewal, this time under very calm, relaxing conditions.  A couple of weeks later, we waved good-bye to Donna and Richard as they departed for Tahiti on his Valient 40 “Surf ride”.  On a glorious day, they had a good send-off from their Waikiki Yacht Club friends and we have followed their progress south on Donna’s blog.  All of this made us start to feel quite restless about getting-going ourselves and this sensation was further enhanced by the departure from Ala Wai of Hannes and Sabine on Cayenne.  They only went around the island to anchor in Kane‘ohe Bay and we hope to see them again in Kaua‘i before they set-off for Vancouver but, unlike us, they had managed to escape the beguiling grasp of Honolulu and were ready to sail away.  On with projects and provisioning!

 It was hard to believe that we had been in Hawai‘i for almost a year and I had yet to stand-up on a surf board.  So I decided that I should look into getting a surfing lesson so that I could use a suitable board, learn about the local conditions, and get some useful tips on how to get up for the first time.  The names of a couple of instructors were recommended to me but it was going to take a bit of research to find out how to contact them.

In the meantime, it was the spring-break holiday for Hawai‘i Pacific University so on Tuesday (March 27^th) Kathy and I decided to go up the Manoa Valley.  Rainy weather had put us off our original plan to hike on the Maunawili Trail, on the windward side of the Ko‘olau Range but we were exceptionally lucky that the showers stopped and the sun even emerged during our strolls around the Lyon Arboretum and up to Manoa Falls.  The Arboretum is run by the University of Hawai‘i, whose attractive main campus is further down the valley, and once we had finally found our way onto the trails (the exit from the visitor’s center was surprisingly challenging for us world-travelers) we enjoyed the views and the steady hike to the modest ‘Aihualama Falls at the upper end of the gardens.

For a while we were a bit mystified by the loud, pterodactyl-like squawks (or at least what we imagine pterodactyls sounded like) coming from the tree-tops.  Eventually we saw some of the large white-parrot-like birds that were responsible and after cursing my decision not to bring the binoculars we concluded that maybe they were cockatoos.  If I had read the map a bit more carefully, I would have immediately known that in the arboretum there are indeed wild populations of salmon-crested, umbrella, and Goffin cockatoos from Indonesia.  We had to wonder who thought that introducing such raucous birds would be a good idea.

The trail to Manoa Falls was much busier than the arboretum paths and being wet from recent rain was extremely muddy.  This made me glad to be wearing my hiking boots although in comparison to most other people on the trail, my feet looked rather over-dressed.  The almost-free-falling 100 ft (30 m) drop of Manoa Falls was rather more impressive than the smaller cascading falls in the arboretum.   We were astonished by how many people blatantly ignored the cable-fence and various “keep-out” signs by the pool at the foot of the falls.  A large warning sign explained that in 2002 a major landslide dropped 30 tons (27 metric tons) of material into the pool from 600 ft above (183 m).   Luckily, no one was injured but perhaps explaining that good fortune has made some subsequent visitors complacent about ignoring the warning.

As we returned from our invigorating hikes, I was telling Kathy about my plan to take a surfing lesson when she described the bad experience she had endured when she took one of the six lessons that Dan had given to her.  She went with a sister and her two kids on a day when the waves and associated currents were really too much for beginners.  The kids had fun but Kathy and her sister struggled in the current, did not get to catch any waves, and feeling abandoned by the instructors were definitely not pleased.  Consequently, Kathy seemed happy to offer the two remaining lessons to me.

So on Thursday morning I set-off to “In-between Beach” (the popular surfing launch-point right next to the Ala Wai 800-dock) with some trepidation.  After all, Kathy’s experience was not a good recommendation for these instructors but it did look as though I was going to enjoy some much better conditions.  As it turned out, I was really lucky.  The waves were a perfect size, there was little current, and the class was small enough that as the only first-timer I was assigned my own instructor, Izumi.  We started on our boards on the beach and Izumi gave me clear and simple instructions.  I looked good crouching on the board on the beach but previous unsuccessful attempts to stand had made me skeptical about how easy this would be in the water.

I should not have worried.  Surf instructors have figured out that happy students are the ones for whom it is made easy to stand at the first opportunity.  The benign conditions (1 – 2 ft waves, < 1 m) meant that my long-board did not need too many pushes from Izumi as we paddled out (the most exhausting part of the whole activity) and I could easily cope with plowing through broken waves.  Once she had me positioned correctly for a suitable wave, Izumi gave my board a good shove at the appropriate moment and all I had to do was concentrate on hoisting myself up onto one knee and then standing with knees bent and back straight.  Yes, all of that (well, almost a straight back) and quite a long ride on my very first wave.  We had not discussed dismounting yet, so that part was rather inelegant but I was jubilant.

The waves are breaking because of the shallow reef and where I ended up was only about waist deep so it was important not to dive- or fall-off too deeply.   There is little living coral on the reef in this popular area but sea urchins can be a problem for the incautious so I had been kitted-out with hard-soled reef shoes.  I also wore a tight shirt and shorts to protect me from chafing myself on the board, so I hardly looked like the “little surfer girl” that the Beach Boys sang about but I had fulfilled my ambition to stand on a surf-board and that was what mattered.

We stayed out for at least an hour and I rode many waves without too many wipe-outs.  By the end, I had graduated to catching my own waves without any push from Izumi, I could finish the ride by sitting- rather than falling-down, and I could sit-up on the board to watch and turn for suitable waves.  I was not standing very tall and steering was still very rudimentary but overall the years of watching my friends surf in Cornwall and the balance I had developed skiing seemed to have been useful and both Izumi and I were very pleased.  I was exhausted from all the paddling and, predictably, my shoulders ached for the next few days but I had done it.  The memories of trying to stand on a short-board in rough, freezing, Cornish conditions, with no one to help me get started were finally unimportant and I could dwell on my wonderful Waikiki experience for a long time.

To aid my recollections and to show Randall what I had accomplished (he had lost sight of me once we paddled away from the beach), I succumbed to the soft sales-pitch from Kenny and bought a CD with a dozen or so photos of me during my lesson.  Surfer Kenny helped the instructors when necessary but he made his money by photographing students and selling CDs of their pictures for $30.  Not cheap but how else could you get in-water pictures?  Knowing that waves always look smaller in photographs (as we had discovered from Tregoning’s heaving decks), Kenny had worked out that taking pictures at an angle made the waves look more impressive.   He had a van in the parking-lot by the beach and after quickly downloading and organizing his photos he could show them on a monitor in the van so that each student could decide whether to purchase a CD.  Not a bad job.

I was incredibly grateful to Kathy for giving me the lesson and the incentive to fulfill a life-long ambition.  I was grateful to Izumi and the “Girls Who Surf” team for making it easy for me to succeed, and I was very thankful for the perfect, sunny conditions at Waikiki.  We have borrowed Dan’s long-board and when the conditions look good and we are not too immersed in boat projects, both Randall and I will paddle out and while one uses the boogie-board, the other will surf (in my case on the inside break, while Randall will go outside where the waves are a bit larger)…at least that is the plan.

We have borrowed Dan’s board again because for April and May he is working in Fairbanks, Alaska.  His two-month assignment as acting Refuge Manager for the Yukon Flats National Wildlife Refuge is part of his Leadership Training Program and sounds very interesting.  Kathy will visit him towards the end of his assignment and we may or may not see him in Honolulu again before we set-sail for Alaska in June (or so).  With this in mind, despite having a million things to organize before he left on Sunday, Dan and Kathy took us hiking with them on Saturday.

To stay dry, they selected the ‘Aiea Loop Trail on the leeward side of the Ko‘olau Range.  The drive there afforded an excellent view across Pearl Harbor from its northeast corner.  The trail was fairly busy but we did not complete the loop, part of which Dan considered rather disappointing.  Instead we walked up one side of the loop and then beyond it part of the way along the ‘Aiea Ridge Trail, returning the same way.  The narrow and much less-traveled ridge trail is appropriately named with steep slopes falling away on either side.  It can be followed up to the Ko‘olau Ridge where there would be views over to Kane‘ohe Bay but this would have made a 15 mile round-trip (24 km) which was a bit more than we needed.  As it was, we had lovely views into the Kalauao Valley to the north  and the Halawa Valley to the south, the latter being dominated by the H3 interstate highway which disappeared into the Ko‘olau Ridge through the Tetsuo Harano Tunnel.

Dan was sure that because he did not have his camera (already shipped to Alaska) we would see plenty of rare birds including the endangered O‘ahu ‘elepaio.  This bird eluded us although several Japanese white-eyes got us prematurely excited.  However, as we were finishing our lunch Dan saw something swift-like whistle past.  Eventually we all saw the Mariana swiftlet, a species that was introduced to Oahu from Guam in 1962.  Although non-native to Hawai‘i this population may become globally important because the species is endangered in Guam as a result of predation by the invasive, brown tree-snake.  According to our bird books, the O‘ahu population of Mariana swiftlets are only known in the Halawa Valley, are most commonly seen on the ‘Aiea ridge, and are thought to nest in an irrigation tunnel or small caves.

In addition to this rare bird, Dan also identified two endemic species of plants that are only found in the Ko‘olau mountains, a species of Hawaiian bidens and wooly ‘ohi‘a (Metrosideros rugosa).  He also showed us some spindly sandalwood trees.  Sandalwood used to be common in the forests of the Hawaiian Islands but after foreigners discovered it there in about 1810, the aromatic wood became very popular for the manufacture of furniture and incense in Asia.  It was exported in huge quantities until the over-exploited forests were devoid of the precious commodity.  It is now an endangered species.

Some authors (e.g., Alan Ziegler in “Hawaiian Natural History, Ecology, and Evolution”) suggest that the exploitation of sandalwood “was a major early factor in the breakup of the traditional Hawaiian way of life”.  Hawaiian chiefs found that “they could personally gain vast stores of foreign good” in exchange for sandalwood so they “relentlessly forced their subjects to collect vast amounts of this material.”  As the accessible populations were annihilated, commoners were compelled to travel far upland and consequently had to “largely neglect their usual agricultural and other subsistence activities”.  Old social systems “began to disintegrate, starvation became commonplace, and eventually the faith of the formerly loyal subjects in their rulers was all but lost.”  By the time the sandalwood bonanza had ended in 1830, whaling had become an important industry in the Pacific and many Hawaiians turned their energies to providing the stores that whaling ships needed.  Many men left their villages to work in the whaling towns of Lahaina (Maui) and Honolulu, thus eroding the traditional social structure even further.

Thus, it was an enjoyable and educational hike, followed by a relaxing evening at Dan and Kathy’s house.  Bidding Dan farewell until we know not when, we were returned to Tregoning the next morning.  Life has continued much as usual on the 800 dock with the occasional threatened fist-fight, wafts of marijuana, and loud, profane, drunken arguments.  When one of the latter included our neighbor and an ex-boyfriend we were not thrilled, especially when we heard another neighbor ask whether the ex- was armed before encouraging him to leave.  But we received an apology later and generally everyone has continued to be friendly to us.  Other cruisers have joined us further out on the 800 dock which may have helped calm things down a little.

Not long after I returned from my waterfall hikes with Kathy, we were hailed by Deb and Terry who had just arrived from Panama on their boat “Wings”.  They had met our former companions, Dan and Kathy on Sea Star, in the Bahamas (they are now on their way back to Jamaica) and so had been looking out for us.  We were amazed that Deb and Terry had enough energy to find us after their 30 day passage but they are on the final leg of their global circumnavigation, returning to Seattle in July, so perhaps they are relatively used to long crossings.  It reminded us that we were at sea for all of last April.

Deb and Terry came over to Tregoning on Thursday evening where we were joined by Hannes and Sabine from “Cayenne”.  We had a fun time exchanging cruising tales and discovering that the others had been in the same marina in Spain for several weeks in 2009/10 and knew several cruising couples in common.  It also turned out that Hannes and Sabine had been good friends with a man who was murdered and his wife attacked under bizarre circumstances (he was invited on a supposed pig hunt but his remains were found in a fire) in Papua New Guinea.  We had heard the story on the cruiser grape-vine but had previously been a bit uncertain about its authenticity.  We also heard how Hannes, a retired Austrian policeman, had been badly shot by a bank robber in a stolen car.   The extraordinary story made us especially impressed that someone with an injured hand and only one lung was successfully cruising around the world.

Bob and Becky, friends of Deb and Terry also on their way back to the Pacific Northwest after a circumnavigation, arrived a few days later on “Stardust”.  Finally, Peter and Margarita arrived on “Sea Time”.  They had been our neighbors in Honokohau and after waiting to get their furling jib repaired had stopped in Maui to pick-up his son and girlfriend, Ollie and Connie, who were on a two-week vacation from Germany.  They were staying at the Waikiki Yacht Club and overall the Ala Wai Harbor was getting pretty full.  At Randall’s suggestion, we all got together to enjoy an evening at La Mariana Restaurant on Thursday (April 5^th) and we had good fun.  Both the food and music were better than on our previous two visits with Dan and Kathy (first when Carl was carted out on a stretcher and then with Mike).  Along with the Austrians and Germans, Randall and I had arrived at the restaurant by bus but for the return journey, Becky was a good sport and crammed all 12 of us in the SUV that they had borrowed and drove us back to the harbor.  A little worried about being stopped by the police (what is the maximum capacity of a Chev Tahoe?), it was not until we stopped that Becky learned from Peter that she had been carrying two retired-policemen (him and Hannes) who were both impressed with her steady driving.

We had been looking forward to being joined on Tuesday (April 10^th) by good friends from Florida, Sue and Jerry.  Sadly, one of their cats became ill and they decided that they could not leave her as a responsibility for their neighbors and still enjoy their trip.  We hope that they will still be able to join us if not in Hawai‘i maybe in Alaska and that Anna recovers soon.  If we do not go elsewhere in the meantime, we can stay in Ala Wai until June 7^th when our 120-day annual allowance for a temporary mooring is used up and we will have to go to another harbor.  We have plenty of boat projects to keep us busy until we leave for Alaska.  The heater installation alone is taking considerably longer than anticipate because of difficulties securing the ceramic tiles that provide thermal insulation for the wooden bulkhead where the heater will be mounted.  We also had thought that the heater’s fuel could be gravity-fed from our diesel tank in the engine room but to do so the bottom of the heater would have to extend below the floor level.   So now we have to wait for a suitable fuel pump to arrive from the mainland.

Still, we are slowly making progress towards being Alaska-ready and even if we are not joined by Sue and Jerry, we hope to revisit Maui and Moloka‘i briefly before turning north towards our departure point on Kaua‘i.  We also keep our eyes on the surf and both Randall and his “little surfer girl” hope to be hitting the Waikiki waves a few times between projects.

As has been mentioned before, there is often a dilemma for sailors trying to make a passage into the wind.  Light winds and small waves make motoring a comfortable option but sailing is slow, not only because of low forward speed but because tacking angles have to be wider as it is not possible to point as closely to the wind.  As the wind speed increases, sailing becomes more viable as it is possible to point a bit more directly toward the upwind destination but the wind-generated waves are not only larger but are more likely to slow the boat is it plows headlong into them.

Such was our quandary as we sat in Nawiliwili Harbor on Kaua‘i watching the weather forecasts looking for a window to go southeast to O‘ahu.  In the end, we had little choice as the easterly winds showed little likelihood of abating enough for comfortable motoring and there was only going to a brief window when the oceans swells would be reduced enough for the predicted waves to be less than 8 ft (2.5 m) in height.  So with Mike swallowing some anti-seasickness pills and the mainsail double-reefed, we cast-off from the dock just after 7 am on Wednesday (March 14^th) expecting a rather lumpy, slow crossing.

It certainly was bumpy in the 7 ft seas (2 m) and we heeled sharply in the occasional 20 knot gusts but with generally steady 15 knot northeast winds we flew along all day between 6 and 7 knots, a very respectable speed for Tregoning.  The pitching and heeling motions kept our muscles well exercised as we had to brace ourselves constantly when seated in the cockpit or staggering through the cabin but Randall and I were both able to get some sleep between watches in the reliable and reassuring embrace of the lee-cloth in the central, main cabin.  Mike’s cabin in the bow was not quite as restful, not only because of the periodic, juddering slams into large waves but because two of the three dreaded plastic file-boxes, which Randall thought he had adequately secured on their shelves, finally leaped loose and rudely forced their heavy, angular company on Mike in his berth.  Somewhat predictably, he decided to sit up in the cockpit for most of the rest of the passage and we must find a better way to secure the books and boxes.

Our exceptional speed put us considerably ahead of schedule so that we reached the lee side of O‘ahu by 6 pm, at which time the wind suddenly and almost completely disappeared.  Within just a few minutes, from cruising along steadily at more than 7 knots we found ourselves looping in a circle at less than 3 knots while the wind faded and its direction floundered.  Without a reliable wind we had to abandon our plan to sail south of the island then tack back towards Waikiki.  Instead we fired-up the engine and pointed directly to Barber’s Point (SW corner of O‘ahu) and then turned east towards Ala Wai.  Although the wind did recover again after an hour or so of motoring, the “horse was heading to the barn” and there was little enthusiasm among the crew to start tacking directly into the wind.  Instead we motored along steadily admiring the south-shore lights and pondering the odd behavior of the helicopter that kept flying over us and then south towards a ship (not seen on the AIS so possibly US Navy or Coast Guard) whose lights kept appearing and disappearing even though they were well within our horizon.

We arrived at the Ala Wai Harbor channel just before 1 am and having never entered it in the dark we approached with some caution.  With so many lights on shore and reflected in the water, it is easy to become disoriented in the channel especially on the eastern side where the steep-sided canal cuts through the shallow reef.   I watched the red lights of the range-markers and shone a flashlight on the unlit channel posts while Randall at the helm put his faith in the chartplotter (which we knew from previous daytime entrances was very accurate).  At least no other vessels were moving and once safely into the wide turning basin we were able to tie-up ahead of a large catamaran on the fuel dock, sleeping there for the rest of the night and moving to slip 839 before the refueling business commenced in the morning.

To Ala Wai Harbor users who have made many after-dark entrances, we might have seemed unnecessarily anxious but visions of the boat that had been lost on the reef just a few weeks before were seared on our memories.  Just a few days later and again in the dark, we found ourselves sailing rapidly into the channel, heeling sharply in the strong and variable gusts and having to pay attention to other sailboats dropping sails just ahead of us.  This time, however, both Randall and I thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of it, secure that any risk was to someone else’s boat and that a very experienced, confident, local sailor was at the helm. 

We were on “Urban Renewal” the J35 sailboat that our friend Donna co-owns with some other Waikiki Yacht Club members.  We had joined them for a Friday evening sail (March 23^rd) and conditions were spectacular for such a fast boat.  Even with two reefs in the mainsail and only a partial jib, the steady 15 to 20 knot winds with gusts possibly over 30 knots (no one was reading any gauges) made for several exciting tacks as we raced ourselves around Mamala Bay.  We saw a spectacular rainbow arcing out of the rainbow towers at the Hilton Hawaiian Village, we were honored by the close proximity of at least two humpback whales, we watched the steady approach of the huge radar dome on the floating rig being towed towards Pearl Harbor, and we oohed and ahhed at the Friday night fireworks.  These were a little more distant than intended as the westward, downwind run had taken us all the way past the airport. However, after going about (fairly promptly as we approached the breaking waves of a reef-surf-break), Captain Cory found ways to eke every extra knot of speed and degree of angle into the wind out of the frisky racing boat.  When winching the jib sheet tight inside the starboard shrouds resulted in a block breaking free from its track (luckily the expensive block was saved only a cheap pin was lost), it was somehow refreshing not to angst over the potential cost or what else might fail.  It was not our responsibility and we had total confidence in Cory and Donna to get us all safely home. 

Donna’s cousin, Naomi had joined us for her first ever sailing trip.  Many novices would have been seasick or jabbering in the dark, wild conditions but she remained remarkably calm and expressed her complete faith in her hosts and their boat.  Having made a generous contribution to the evening’s entertainments of tasty dim sum, everyone was relieved that Naomi had been such a good sport and trusting passenger.  We were particularly impressed with Donna’s fearless agility on the bucking decks and her determined strength to hold the downwind course when the tiller was heaving with the large swells.  Honed by such regular Friday-evening excursions, her skills will be important in mid-April when she sails to Tahiti on her friend Richard’s Valient.  Listening to them discuss their preparations reignited our excitement about preparing for our passage to Alaska.

Between these two nighttime entrances to Ala Wai Harbor we resumed life on the 800-dock which seemed to be relatively peaceful.  Although the weather remained rather variable with gusty winds and showers, it was much better than it had been during our stay on Kaua‘i.  Mike and I made two more trips to snorkel at Hanauma Bay.  For the first of these on Friday (March 16^th) we rode the crowded bus from Waikiki, luckily securing seats both ways and discovering that for $2.50 each our admission to the park was unaffected by whether the parking-lot was full.  On the outgoing bus we chatted with an energetic woman, who after climbing Diamond Head was going to snorkel at the Bay and then catch another bus through Kailua before returning to her cruise-ship.  Living on Catalina Island, off the coast near Los Angeles, Victoria gave me her phone number in case we wanted to stop by when we were sailing south in California.  I warned her that we were developing a habit of actually taking people up on such generous offers…as Eric and Ellen could testify in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

By the time we returned to Hanauama Bay in Kathy’s car the late following Monday morning, the parking lot was full so Randall dropped Mike and me at the entrance while he enjoyed a few quiet hours of shopping and reading.  During our various visits, Mike and I explored all sections of the bay inside the reef including the end further from the entrance which was shallower and only comfortable for snorkeling at high tide.  However, with fewer visitors there were more living corals, roving schools of larger fish (including my first sighting of the colorful lagoon triggerfish), and, it turns out, some unclaimed treasure.  Cruising along, I noticed an unnaturally perfect circle on the reef and reached down to pick-up a jewel-encrusted ring.  It had algal encrustations as well so it had probably been there for a while but I left a description of it with the Park Staff in the hope that someone had reported the loss and could be reunited with their wedding or engagement ring.

Continuing the theme of utilizing Kathy’s generous loan of her car and getting ourselves wet, we drove Mike out to O‘ahu’s west coast on Saturday hoping to enjoy our boogie board in the small swells.  Disappointingly, the only decent waves were at Makaha Beach which appeared to be the site of a surfing competition.  We drove all the way up to Ka‘ena Point State Park, where we were able to admire a breaching whale for several minutes but everywhere the water was too murky for snorkeling.  Instead, Mike and Randall immersed themselves in the warm sheltered waters of Poka‘i Bay while I wandered out through the throngs of feasting families to Kane‘ilio Point.  Sadly, none of Randall’s loud comments complimenting the luscious aromas of barbecuing food resulted in any offers to sample it.

The next day we sought suitable surfing waves around the southeastern side of the island.  Frustratingly, the large waves were dumping onshore with little possibility of a decent ride at Sandy Beach and Makapu‘u Beach Parks so we had to settle with splashing around at the south end of Kailua Beach.  Since the surf was not peeling-off, we had to content ourselves with riding broken waves the short distance until we were unceremoniously beached on the sand. It was not stylish but it was worth getting the boogie board wet.

Between these aquatic excursions we ate well.  On Friday we met Kathy to receive her car and eat at the cook-your-meat-yourself Shorebird Restaurant.  The next evening we were joined on Tregoning to enjoy a spread of various poke (raw fish) appetizers and other tasty pupus by Bonnie and Charlie. In mid-May they are leaving Ala Wai and permanently moving to their house in Coverack.  Not far from where Mike and I grew-up, it was fun to see their photos of the small Cornish fishing village with the few small boats all beached on the mud at low tide.  On Sunday evening, Mike treated us to a meal at the busy Tsukiji Restaurant in the Ala Moana Mall, an all-you-can-eat fish- buffet.  It is not certain that I ate my full $32 per-person-worth but I enjoyed all the sushi, tempura, cooked fish, vegetables, and desserts that I did have.  Mike and Randall certainly did get their value-for-money and we all waddled back to the boat agreeing that such gluttony is best enjoyed infrequently.  However, the next evening we were treated to copious quantities of barbecued chicken, shrimp, peppers, and squash by Dan and Kathy.  I had made a chocolate and raspberry cake for Dan’s birthday (the previous day) but the poor fellow seemed to be so tired from his long-weekend’s deployment with the US Coast Guard Reserves that it took him several puffs to blow-out the candles.

In a final effort to work off some of the excess food and to make Mike suitably restful for his 24-hour journey home, we drove up to Diamond Head on Tuesday morning and hiked up to the top where the views were spectacular.  It was busy but nothing like as densely crowded as when I had made the ascent with Shev and Matt, and having secured a parking space this time, Randall was able to join us.  We talked Mike into having one of the favorite Hawaiian snacks, a shave-ice, at the end of the warm morning of which he declared the pineapple flavoring was tolerable but, like us, he would rather have an ice-cream.

By the time we dropped Mike at the airport on Tuesday evening, he had seen all parts of O‘ahu and most of Kaua‘i, he had experienced the vagaries of the Hawaiian winter weather, and he had survived a chaotic anchorage and two rough channel crossings. He enjoyed plenty of Hawaiian hospitality and was also reminded of the typical ups-and-downs of boat life, the downs including the failure of our macerator, the breakdown of the fridge, and the blockage of the freshwater pump during our return passage. Randall skillfully and nobly fixed all of these while Mike and I enjoyed being tourists. The water pump had been blocked by calcium carbonate crystals that had been stirred-up from the bottom of the tank during the rough crossing so after cleaning the pump, Randall inserted an upstream water filter to try to avoid any future repetitions.

Although we were sad to say good-bye, Mike’s departure did not leave us lonely for long.  A couple of evenings later we were invited over to “Cayenne” where we enjoyed delicious food and lively conversation with Sabine and Hannes, the Austrian couple we had met briefly in Honokohau. Then on Sunday morning we were joined on Tregoning by Randall’s cousin Irv, his wife Coralie, her sister Lori, and her husband Jack.  They were passengers, with the rest of Coralie’s family, on the Star Princess ship which was on a 15 day cruise out of San Francisco.  After a rainy day in Hilo they were spending a day in Honolulu to be followed by a day each in Kaua‘i and Maui.  It was fun to meet Lori and Jack and to catch-up with Irv and Coralie.  At lunchtime we were joined by their friends from a previous cruise in South Africa, Linda and Tom who have retired to Honolulu.  By the time they left, we had been quite enlightened about the intricacies of various cruise-lines and African safari options.  Although I do not think that we had convinced any of them to join us for a long-distance cruise aboard Tregoning, we suspect that our ability to stay for prolonged periods in any port we visited was quite envied.

Being the volunteer who walked or bicycled the four-mile (6 km) round-trip each day to get ice for the non-functioning fridge, it was quite a relief to me when we took the bus to collect a rental car from Kaua‘i airport on Thursday morning (March 8^th).  Anxious for Mike to see something of Kaua‘i other than Lihue and uncertain about the weather for the days ahead, we set off immediately for Waimea Canyon.  Given that we started at Waimea in sunshine, we debated our lookout-stopping strategy, finally deciding to drive straight to see the Na Pali coast before the clouds gathered and spread west from the mountain summits.  However, we could not quite make ourselves drive the length of the canyon without stopping once and at the Waimea Canyon Lookout we realized that compared to our previous visits, there were numerous additional waterfalls draining the deluge of the last few days.

When we first walked out to the Kalalau Lookout we found ourselves laughing at the apparent futility of it all because the Na Pali coast was completely hidden by a giant grey shroud.  At least Randall and I knew what the view was supposed to be but most people were just taking photos of the nearby vegetation and recalcitrant cloud.   Patience paid-off, however, and soon white blobs started to appear…surf crashing on the distant beach.  This was the prelude to thinning and rising of the clouds until the dramatic cliffs and ridges of the Kalalau Valley were revealed, to the amazement of any persistent viewers.  The strong winds blowing across the valley top sucked twisting columns of clouds up the steep sides as if draining a pond of milky water where gravity was working in reverse.

At the Pu‘u o Kila Lookout at the end of the road, given the possibility of further rain and the slippery, saturated condition of the muddy ground, we decided not to go along the Pihea Trail to explore the boardwalk into the Alaka‘i swamp as had been recommended by Kathy and Dan.

Instead we returned down to Waimea stopping at various places to admire the canyon and to look over to Ni‘ihau Island and consoled ourselves with large helpings of tasty pizza.  We then examined the Salt Ponds near Hanapepe (convincing ourselves that the water was too murky to make our wet exposure to the brisk wind worthwhile) and visited the ruins of the Russian Fort Elizabeth.

A disappointingly overgrown landmark, this fort was built in 1817 under the supervision of Georg Scheffer, a Russian doctor.  The previous year he had entered into an alliance with Kaumuali‘i, the frustrated king of Kaua‘i who had reluctantly agreed that his island should become part of King Kamehameha I’s kingdom when all Hawai‘i was “united” in 1810.  Planning to use Russian guns and ships while Kaua‘i provided the men and food, Kaumuali‘i wanted to conquer the islands to which he had ancestral claims but the scheme failed leaving only the star-shaped Fort Elizabeth on the banks of the Waimea River.  Across the river was the beach where Captain Cook had first stepped ashore on the land he called the Sandwich Islands in 1778.  

On our way home we stopped in Hanapepe to walk over the swinging bridge and showed Mike where we had surged so uncomfortably in Port Allen Harbor.  We planned to return the next evening for the Hanapepe Friday-night arts, music, and food event but rain all day in Lihue deterred us.  The rain had resumed in earnest in the early hours of Thursday when it woke us in time to hear the howling wind and beating hail, and see the lightning that was flashing at one-second intervals.  We were thankful not only that we were secure in the marina but that the lightning mostly seemed to be staying up in the clouds.  The next morning we did not venture out on the roads for a while as there were many reports on the local radio of flooding, landslides, and bridge collapses.  With golf-ball-sized hail and a tornado reported on O‘ahu the band of severe weather was perhaps even worse there.  (The tornado passed over the house of an employee of Kathy’s but amazingly did very little damage.)  

The heavy rain did, however, promise to fill the islands’ waterfalls so Mike and I (and many of the other bored tourists) drove over to the see the 80 foot-high (24 m) Wailua Falls just north of Lihue.  These thunderous falls were particularly spectacular because the lookout point was so close to the lip.  Looking at the crushed vegetation downstream of the pool, it was apparent that the recent flow had been even greater than the impressive mass of water that we witnessed.  We also visited the overlook for the ‘Opaeka‘a Falls, just west of Wailua town.  Although only half the height of the Wailua Falls and viewed from a greater distance, it was still obvious that the falls were swollen well beyond their usual capacity.

The following morning we all drove north to Hanalei but it was still windy, grey, and showery.  Low clouds hid the mountain peaks but waterfalls were visible all along the cliffs and the taro fields in the lush valley were awash with water.  Landslides and downed power-lines prevented us from driving to the end of the road at Ha‘ena State Park but the coastal trails were probably closed anyway due to the mud and dangerous streams.  Earlier in the week, a hiker had been washed away while trying to cross the Hanakapi‘ai Stream, her body being found out at sea several days later. 

With the muddy water and grey skies, even Hanalei Bay itself did not have the sparkle that we had enjoyed previously and that captured in the recent film “The Descendents”.   We did not bother to go into the Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge because in the pouring rain the lighthouse was not even visible from the overlook.  Only the plodding nene geese seemed to be content with the conditions. 

The rather dreary day was redeemed by a late and rather interesting Indian buffet lunch in Wailua and by the actions of a stranger.  In my haste to get out of the car for lunch, I must have dropped an envelope that I needed to mail containing a check to pay our house insurance premium.  While eating lunch the phone rang and a young man called to tell me that he had found the check in the parking lot.  He was at a restaurant nearby so I went over to get it.  I should have bought his lunch but by the time I figured this out he had already paid for it, so I gave him a modest cash reward.  It was very kind of him to call (the number was on the check) as it would have been very frustrating to have lost the check and forgotten about it until the insurance was overdue.  At such times, helpful people and cellphones are really wonderful things.

The wind and rain continued the next day when Mike and I left Randall to fix our non-functioning macerator (luckily, there was a fairly simple solution).  We drove west past Waimea to the end of the paved road at Mama Point.  We could not take the rental car on the rough, dirt road to Barking Sand and Polihale State Park so we had to content ourselves with driving back past the extensive Pacific Missile Range Facility to the Kekaha Beach Park.  The wind-driven sand and brown waves did not tempt us into the water but we sat for a while and enjoyed the absence of rain.  Our subsequent explorations to Po‘ipu in the southernmost part of the island were considerably wetter and reminded Mike and me of childhood vacations of driving around peering at scenic vistas through the rain. 

The blow-hole at Spounting Horn Park was suitably dramatic and our experience there was much enhanced when Mike and I noticed a Hawaiian monk seal bobbing around in the surf nearby (judging by the absence of comments, we doubt that anyone else much saw or recognized it).  Being on the drier side of the island and with numerous condos, hotels, fancy shops, and a couple of golf courses Po‘ipu is a popular tourist destination on Kaua‘i.  However, the sea and weather conditions were not particularly flattering that day so Mike and I did not linger for long.

Needless to say, the refrigerator part for which we had been waiting for five days (rather than the intended “2-day shipping” since there are no deliveries in Hawai‘i during weekends) arrived at the UPS store not long after we had returned the rental car on Monday morning.  I made the 4 mile round-trip (6 km) on my bike to get it and with much relief the compressor sputtered into life and we had no further need to buy big bags of ice.  Much of Tuesday was spent preparing for our passage back to Honolulu including scrubbing mud off the bottom and sides of the dinghy.  We were ready to leave Kaua‘i and had decided not to risk getting Mike stranded on another island by bad weather.

We had left the dinghy in the water during our stay in Nawiliwili because Randall had offered to help Craig attach a tire and chain to the post at the corner of the slip in which we were staying.  This was to be Craig’s slip but he had not been ready to move until he installed this tire and so we had benefitted from his delay.  Unfortunately they could not complete the project as the neighbor or previous slip-user had piled too much carpet over the post and Craig could not reach the bolts onto which his chain should have attached.  Despite the failure of this effort, on Tuesday evening Craig still took us all to his lovely house in Wailua Homesteads (inland of ‘Opaeka‘a Falls and the Sleeping Giant hill) where his wife Pattie treated us to a huge and delicious dinner.  It was very kind of them to be so hospitable (especially as Craig had to drive us back to the harbor again) when we were already beneficiaries of their kindness in letting us use their slip. 

Craig was keen to talk about the cruising life-style because he was looking forward to retiring and taking his 50 foot (15 m) Hunter sailboat to the South Pacific.  Pattie had not been sailing before so she was understandably somewhat hesitant about the prospect although bold enough to agree to join him for up to five years despite a tendency towards sea-sickness.  We tried to tell reassuring stories and make helpful suggestions based on our cruising adventures but in the end, nothing can adequately substitute for gaining first-hand experience and confidence at sea.  We hope that by the time we return to Kaua‘i on our way to Alaska they will have moved “Sabbatical” to their new slip and will have been able to enjoy day-sailing under good conditions. We hope too that Pattie will be able to get some dinghy-sailing lessons to give her confidence and understanding of the language and simple mechanics of sailing. She is courageous to consider such a new commitment in life so we really hope that all of her initial sailing experiences are good and imbue her with the same level of enthusiasm that obviously motivates Craig.  Many thanks for your hospitality, Pattie, good luck and calm seas!

After a week in O‘ahu, Mike was keen to visit another islands and Kaua‘i was his selection.  We carefully watched the weather forecasts focusing on suitable conditions to make the northwest, downwind passage and on Thursday (March 1^st) things looked ideal.  Had we known what the weather would be like during the following week, maybe we would have turned south instead.

As it was, we left Ala Wai Harbor at noon and although it was rather lumpy with 6 – 8 ft waves (2 – 3 m) coming at us from at least two directions, the wind started off at a steady 15 knots from the east and we made good progress just using the jib.  We did not notice any albatrosses as we sailed along the west coast of O‘ahu but we saw red-footed- and brown-boobies and we did see a few humpback whales surfacing and tail-slapping.

By nighttime the wind had dropped to 10 knots directly behind us so we reduced the size of the jib, hauled it in tightly (but left it up to try to reduce our roll in the waves), and ran the engine at low RPM.  Mike shared the two-hour watches and admiring the stars we had an uneventful night. I had a radio conversation with a tow-boat that was pulling a barge from Honolulu to the same destination as us and who wanted to cross behind us from our starboard side to pass us on the port side because his barge was being pushed to port by the current.  He called to make sure that we were not going to alter our course to port.  We did not want to risk getting between and tow-boat and its barge so I temporarily adjusted our course a few degrees to starboard to make sure that we did not drift into his direction as he passed.

We arrived at Nawiliwili in the early afternoon and received permission from the US Coast Guard to enter the harbor despite the presence of the “Pride of America” (probably not absolutely necessary but these days the security is so tight around cruise ships that is best to be cautious).  Although there was plenty of anchoring room outside the large turning-basin, there were enough moored and anchored boats scatted through the area that it took us a while to select a suitable place.  We set our anchor near the edge of the designated anchorage having looked at the direction of the neighboring boats and the prevailing NE wind but rather disappointingly found ourselves swinging with the out-going tide and river current rather than with the wind so that our stern was creeping into the turning-basin.  Before we had time to decide whether to move, the Pride of America began to leave its dock and by the time it had swung its stern around towards us and clearly was still at a safe distance, we decided not to try moving again.  We were tired, wanted to get to the harbor-master’s office before 4 pm, and expected the winds to swing us back to a better position most of the time.  Otherwise, if there were objections from the harbormaster or Coast Guard, we could move the next day…or so we thought.

We lowered the dinghy and leaving Mike on Tregoning in case there were any concerns about our position, Randall and I headed to shore.  It took quite a while to get the outboard started and it sputtered quite a bit during our short trip to the loading dock.  We had not used it in several months so we were not too concerned but we knew that it would need a good run before we could assume that it was fully reliable.  Sadly, the trip was wasted because the harbormaster’s office (a new building since our last visit) had closed at 3:30 pm, just 10 minutes before we got to it.  Still, the sputtering outboard got us all to the dinghy-dock the next morning and we walked around the north side of the cargo and cruise-ship port to the group of small tourist shops at Anchor Cove, next to Kalapaki Beach.  Due to recent rains, the surf at the beach was an unappealing muddy brown but that did not deter a few hardy souls who were riding paddle boards and swimming in the surf. 

Being a Saturday, in Nawiliwili Park there were several local families setting-up barbecues, including one friendly group who were roasting a whole pig on a spit for a first-birthday party.  In traditional Hawaiian culture, the birth of a baby was celebrated by gift-giving within the family and with rites that often included burying the umbilical cord (piko) in a sacred place.  Big community lu‘aus, were saved for the baby’s first-birthday because the child’s prospects were much better if it had survived the first year.  First-birthday parties are a still a popular custom and on the Big Island we had met a young Hawaiian woman whose piko had been buried on Mauna Kea.  Although Randall and Mike were disappointed not to be invited to return and sample the roast pig, we had lunch at the “Burger Shack” which seemed to satisfy immediate demands.

The weather forecast for the next few days looked a bit unsettled as a cold front stalled over the islands so we decided to postpone renting a car for a few days.  This turned out to be a smart move.  That evening, when were about a third of the way through watching the movie “Saving Private Ryan”, a thunderstorm developed over us and some of the strikes were closed enough that we felt sure that at least one boat in the bay must have been hit.  We shut down the DVD player, unplugged all the electronics that we could, and shoved cell-phones, computers, and hand-held instruments into the oven (hoping it protected them as a Faraday cage).  We subsequently learned that the mast of a sailboat in the marina was struck and a small hole was blown out in the hull by the exiting bolt of lightning.

The deluge of rain and lightning continued on and off all night and by 5 am I got up to sit in the cockpit.  The rain was washing all sorts of logs and debris down the Hule‘ia Stream which dumped into Nawiliwili Bay right through the anchorage.  I had been kept awake not only by the rainfall but by the gentle thumping of logs bouncing down the hull and it was a relief to see in the beam of a flashlight that nothing at the surface had caught on our anchor chain.  As dawn slowly washed the scene from black to grey, I could see that another anchored cruising boat had not been so lucky and “Jazz” had a positive forest of logs and branches caught on its anchor-chain and at its stern.

I watched a tow-boat and large barge enter the harbor against the strong outflow of muddy river water and debris before tying up to the cruise-ship dock.  Just as another tow boat started to move out, I heard some thuds and shouts and looked into the main part of the anchorage to see a 35 ft (11 m) sailboat drifting downstream past Jazz and bouncing off a nearby ketch.  It then drifted towards the breakwater that protects the harbor.  I called the US Coast Guard on the VHF radio to alert them to the problem and after some discussion they asked that we phone their office to provide further details which Randall did while I stayed on the radio.  During this time the boat had passed the breakwater and was being carried out of the harbor in the main channel.  We also noticed four more, smaller sailboats had broken off their anchors or moorings and were drifting slowly towards the breakwater. 

With so much river current and debris in the anchorage we were not inclined to lower the dinghy which, luckily, we had hoisted out of the water for the night.  Even with a fully reliable outboard it was unlikely that we could have done much to stop any of the drifting boats but the idea of trying to go out and then having to drift or row to safety should the outboard fail was not acceptable. Meanwhile, the departing tow-boat was calling the US Coast Guard to report that the first sailboat boat was beyond the breakwater, drifting in the entrance channel blocking the way of the cruise-ship Oosterdam that the tow-boat was going to escort into the harbor. Eventually the tow-boat must have managed to push the sailboat aside because we were soon watching the cruise-ship cautiously make the series of right-angle turns that were needed to get past the breakwater and the long pier at the end of its dock.

As the cruise-ship and escorting tow-boat came into the harbor, one of the two medium-sized (45 ft or 14 m) Coast Guard response-boats stationed at Nawiliwili started to exit the harbor and soon returned with the errant, and apparently undamaged, sailboat in tow.  In the meantime, three of the boats drifting along the breakwater had become entangled with the hull of a huge trimaran that has been moored in the harbor in its unfinished state for many years.  We were afraid that the whole collection would break loose as they appeared to be dragging closer to the end of the breakwater but amazingly they did not.  The fourth boat drifted across the entrance channel and stopped in front of the Kalapaki Beach, presumably because its anchor had snagged or it ran aground on a reef.

In the middle of all this action, we noticed that a large tree trunk had become stuck directly upstream of us.  We were pretty sure that this had not been there the day before and our concern was not only that it might become dislodged and drag down onto us but that in doing so it might bring with it the three moored boats between us.  Needless to say, we found ourselves staring at this tree at frequent intervals trying to gauge whether it was getting any closer to the upstream boat.  We also found ourselves watching Richard (who had introduced himself to us the day before) on his boat Jazz, trying to dislodge the branches on his anchor-chain.  We felt helpless watching him as he tried to pull or cut the debris with a small saw but again we feared that trying to use our unreliable dinghy to help might just add to the chaos.  What did become apparent, however, was that even though we were being swung by the current out into the edge of the turning-basin, we had picked a good spot to anchor because unlike Jazz, Tregoning was outside the fastest and most debris-laden part of the river outflow. 

While the US Coast Guard was towing the first sailboat into the harbor, the Fire and Rescue Service launched their small boat.  They helped move the sailboat to the loading dock and then aided the USCG in rescuing the boat that was stuck off Kalapaki Beach.  They also helped Richard move one particularly large log off his anchor-chain and after that he was able to drag the rest of the debris free himself.  He eventually pulled up his anchor and motored into the inner harbor and tied-up to the loading dock.  About the same time, another sailboat entered the channel and anchored just behind us.  We were not sure if this was an inhabited boat from the harbor that has dragged its anchor or a boat that had newly arrived through the unpleasant and increasingly rough seas but with all the other activity, neither the Coast Guard nor the staff on the recently launched harbormaster’s boat seemed to be too concerned that he was anchored right in the turning-basin.

Throughout this period, the USCG was providing regular “Pan-Pan” reports (which were downgraded to “Securité” once it was established that no-one was aboard the drifting vessels) over VHF channel 16, warning of the dangerous flows and debris in Nawiliwili Harbor and recommending boaters to avoid transiting the area.   We noticed that numerous new waterfall had sprouted all over the cliffs of Kalanipu‘u hill on the south side of the harbor and around 9 am the SW winds swung around and strengthened from the NE.  With the wind direction opposing the current, small standing waves developed in the harbor adding to the general state of confusion and our certainty that launching our dinghy to go ashore would be a bad idea.

So we spent the day aboard Tregoning watching as several dinghies and the harbormaster’s boat went out to examine the three sailboats trapped by the catamaran.  Gradually, the boats were disentangled and only one seemed to have sustained damage with a crushed bow rail.  All except one of the boats were towed to the now-crowded loading dock.  Strangely, the other boat was re-anchored not far from shore, right back in the worst of the outflow of Hule‘ia Stream.  The flow had seemed to be receding slightly but by the late afternoon the rain became heavier again.

Earlier in the afternoon than usual (probably because there was nothing very appealing for the passengers to do ashore in the rain), the Oosterdam left port.  On returning from escorting the ship out of the harbor, the US Coast Guard response-boat returned to its station via the edge of the turning basin.  They told the boat anchored behind us to move into the anchorage and they came over to require us to do the same because at the time our stern was in the basin.  In perhaps a rather frustrated tone, I asked them where exactly they would recommend us to move to given the chaos that the river outflow and debris had already caused in the rest of the anchorage.  Unable to give us a good suggestion they decided to let us stay where we were but told us to “be aware”, presumably that we were encroaching into the turning basin.

We finally settled-down to try to watch the end of “Saving Private Ryan” but before we could finish it a strong wind started to blow from the NE.  By itself this would not have been a problem, in fact, it blew us nicely forward on our anchor out of the turning-basin but we found our bow sailing uncomfortably close to a moored catamaran.  Between the opposing effects of the wind and the river current, the catamaran was describing wild circles around and across its mooring.  So instead of both boats lying well separated and in the same direction they were swinging (us) and circling (the catamaran) in patterns that frequently brought us very close to colliding.  Not that the impact would have been particularly hard but if anything became entangled on the boats something would undoubtedly be scratched or broken.

Given the unpleasant conditions and without any obviously better place to anchor, we really did not want to try moving so we established two hour anchor watches and throughout the night one of the three of us was sitting in the cockpit keeping a lookout for the catamaran or any large debris.  The hard rain continued all night so we were still afraid that the upstream tree and/or boats might yet drag down upon us.

By dawn on Monday, although the wind and rain had calmed down, the flow of water and debris around us was still rapid so we called the harbormaster’s office to ask if they had any slips available only to be told that the marina was full.   Richard on Jazz had been able to secure the last vacant slip.  So we did not rush to the office but at 9:30 am Randall and I cruised in to pay the nominal fee for anchoring.  Surprisingly, when I walked into the office and said which boat I was from and that we only wanted to stay for a week or so, there was much flurry and discussion and the next thing I knew was that we were going to be able to use slip 112.  This slip was available to us until the current permit-holder, Craig, was ready to move his boat there from another, less satisfactory slip.  While I was completing the paperwork for our stay (and kindly we were excused paying for our miserable three nights in the anchorage), Randall met Craig and we were able to profusely thank him for his delay in moving.

When we returned to Tregoning, Mike was also very pleased because he had not looked forward to feeling trapped on the boat or having to trust the dodgy outboard to keep shuttling us to shore.  We quickly pulled up the anchor and in relatively pleasant conditions I eased us into the slip where we firmly secured Tregoning.  It was extremely fortunate that we moved when we did because a few hours later the rain had returned and the wind started howling again from the NW.  If we had still been in the anchorage, we would have undoubtedly been doing the tango with the catamaran again…or worse.

By mid-afternoon, the winds were a steady 25 knots with reported gusts of 30 to 35 knots and we were so thankful to be just buffeted around within the safe confines our slip.  Out in the bay, however, I noticed that the sailboat that had been re-anchored the previous day after it was rescued from the embrace of the trimaran, was now dangerously close to the rocks along the southern shore of the anchorage.  I ran through the rain to alert the staff in the harbormaster’s office while Randall called the US Coast Guard.  The latter issued warnings on VHF channel 16 about a drifting boat in Nawiliwili harbor but we were surprised to see that once it was established that no-one was aboard and in peril no aid was sent out to rescue the boat before it smashed on the rocks.  We were subsequently told that the area was too shallow for the Coast Guard response-boats but we wondered by the smaller inflatable had not been launched.

By Tuesday morning, when we finally saw some sunshine, the sailboat was hard on the rocks but remarkably, since it had been rolled all night by the wind and waves, it was still upright and the hull appeared to be intact.  Making the most of the fine weather, we walked to Anchor Cove and caught a bus into Lihu‘e.  We were particularly lucky to have hit a promotional period when the usual $2 bus fare was being waived for a week.  Mike and I visited the Kaua‘i Museum while Randall investigated whether he could exchange a broken fishing rod at Walmart despite not having the receipt (yes, but only if they had the same model in stock which they did not).  We then walked along a road that crossed the Nawiliwili Stream next to the ruins of a huge sugar mill and visited the supermarket in the Kukui Grove shopping center.

After catching the bus back to Anchor Cove we started to walk back to the small-boat harbor along the road next to the commercial port.  We soon discovered that the road was closed to traffic because a tree-and-landslide off the face of the adjacent cliff had knocked down a couple of power-poles.  Needless to say, being at the end of the line, there was no power in the marina but with fully charged batteries this did not bother us.  What was a problem was that we discovered that our refrigerator had stopped working.  It was unlikely that this had anything to do with the local power-outage because the fridge ran off the 12 volt batteries.  After Randall unsuccessfully tried to fix it, I set-off to find some ice and small car-fuses.  In the end, I walked and jogged to an auto-parts shop near the supermarket and between the two stores I got what I needed.   With 20 lbs (9 kg) of ice in my back-pack, I could not jog on the 2 mile (3 km) return trip but at least the last part was downhill.  Sadly, the fuses did not solve the problem with the fridge.  However, the power was restored later that evening and it was amazing how quickly the utility company had been able to replace the two broken poles.

While in town, we had bought a couple of newspapers and learned that during the 24 hour period starting at 5 pm on Sunday, more than 6 inches of rain (18 cm) had fallen in Lihu‘e. Hanalei, at the north end of the island, received more than a staggering 17 inches (44 cm) of rain during 27 hours so it was not surprising that the headlines referred to the Garden Isle (Kaua‘i) being under water.  As we had heard on the local radio, many other landslides had occurred all over the island and combined with flooded roads and washed-out bridges, many schools and businesses were closed for several days while a state of emergency was declared to facilitate funding for repairs.

The following morning, Mike and I decided that the Hule‘ia Stream had calmed down enough that we could take a ride up it in the dinghy while leaving poor Randall to work out what needed to be replaced in the fridge.  Unfortunately, we could never get the outboard running smoothly enough consider it trustworthy for the expedition and instead we had just added another project to Randall’s expanding list.  We suspected that the gasoline was contaminated by water and various oily deposits.  The subsequent addition of a fuel treatment did nothing to resolve the problem so we concluded that we would have to get a clean fuel-tank and new gasoline in Honolulu, where we could clean the carburetor and spark-plugs.

So ignoring a few light showers, Mike and I walked along the road west of the harbor to the overlook for the ‘Alekoko Fishpond.  This was the ancient Hawaiian fishpond that Randall and I had explored by kayak on our previous visit to Kaua‘i and which was supposedly built overnight by the Menehune or “little people”.  When we returned, Randall had worked out that he needed to order a new control panel for the fridge which we requested to have express shipped to us from the mainland.  We also saw that the effort to rescue the sailboat on the rocks had sadly ended in failure.  The keel of the upright boat had been tightly wedged between two rocks and when the owner had tried to pull it out using another vessel the sailboat ended up on its side and was half-submerged.  Although not obvious whether this was a consequence of holes ground into the hull or some other misfortune, the net result was that the boat could not be salvaged for repair and all of the equipment and belongings aboard were lost. It was a sad conclusion to the chaos that had enveloped Nawiliwili harbor for the five preceding days.  While we were very relieved that Tregoning had come through the debacle without sustaining any damage, we really hoped that the weather would finally improve so that Mike would have an opportunity to see the beauty of Kaua‘i rather than feel constrained by the vagaries of what winter can offer in Hawai‘i.

Seeing a crashed car makes me very concerned about what happened to the occupants but the wreckage of the car itself does not elicit a strong sense of sadness in me.  Perhaps this is partly due to the desensitizing frequency at which ruined cars are seen and partly due to the typical absence of personalized details about most cars when observed from afar.  I cannot say that I feel the same way about sailboats, at least not recently damaged ones.  When seen from your own cockpit, there is a decidedly gloomy feel to the sight of a severely canted boat stranded on the rocks and I find myself feeling particularly sympathetic to the distressed owner.  Especially for frequently used vessels such as cruising and live-aboard boats, perhaps a better comparison is with the tragic sight of a storm-ravaged or fire-razed home.

On Friday evening, (Feb 24^th) just before we expected to be watching with the Hilton Hawaiian Village fireworks (our plans that this should be a pleasant surprise for Mike having already been ruined by an overly chatty neighbor), we were distracted by the drama of a sailboat that had gone aground just beyond the breakwater by the 800 dock.  We had seen the usual cluster of 30 or so yachts going out for a Friday-evening sail but we did not see this particular 24 ft (7 m), yellow-hulled boat veer from the channel and get caught on the reef.  We were only alerted to the mishap after it was fully dark and we saw the flashing lights on the attending small US Coast Guard boat and the Fire and Rescue truck in the Ala Moana Park.  We learned from the discussions on the VHF radio that two women had been rescued by another sailboat and the captain was staying onboard his stranded vessel.  Sadly, the tide was falling from a spring high-tide so it did not appear that the boat would be able to float loose before morning.  The vessel was rolling and yawing a bit with the small swell but fortunately the waves hitting it were not breaking, at least at not at that state of the tide.  We still enjoyed the fireworks but before we went to bed we found ourselves checking again for the dim, wobbling lights of the boat stranded less than 100 yards (30 m) from us.

At dawn the boat was still sitting up on the reef but it was tilted at a bit of an angle. A man in a dinghy (presumably the owner) was examining it and perhaps removing what he could from the deck.  However, as the tide peaked within the hour, the hull disappeared under the water surface and only the rails, mast, and man in the dinghy remained upright and visible.  We wondered how long the wreck would be sitting next to the harbor entrance, imparting its salutary lesson to other users of the narrow channel.  But by the time we returned from that day’s activities, the boat had gone.  Our next question, about whether the boat had been salvageable, was answered the next morning when we saw it, still upside-down, in a disused slip.  One side of the hull had been ripped open and by Monday afternoon the hull had been unceremonially smashed into a dumpster.  The latter sight was so pathetic that I could not bring myself to take a photo.  As I have said, there was something far more heartrending to me about seeing this distinctive, yellow-hulled boat wasted, than seeing a totaled car being towed away for scrap.

We have no idea why the boat ended up on the reef.  Luckily, the reef in the area is mostly dead, coral-rock so the damage to the habitat was probably minimal.  We will probably never know whether the motor failed and the boat drifted helplessly out of the steep-sided channel or whether there was “pilot error” (Mike noted some rather incriminating empty beer cans floating in the open hull when we saw it upside-down in the slip).  When I fished for further information from the employees at the fuel dock, their rather weary response was that boats ran aground there two or three times a year.  Although throwing no further light on the cause of this specific calamity, this did explain how the vessel was removed so quickly.  The ominous skeletons of larger grounded boats have greeted us at various other ports on our travels and they are not cheerful signs of welcome.

Prior to this Friday night drama, we had been getting Tregoning ready for Mike’s arrival and finishing a few tasks before our month’s “vacation” with him.  One of these activities was for Randall to complete the paperwork for renewing his Captain’s License which included having a physical and a drug-test.  After a morning of working in the engine room and then cycling to the medical center without drinking enough water, he failed the first step of the drug test by being unable to produce a sufficiently large sample of urine.  Rather than have to reschedule the whole exam again, we had to wait at the office for three hours as they fed him a glass of water every 30 minutes until he was appropriately hydrated.  Conversely, the more worrying color-blindness test was a cinch.  As usual, he could not see the correct numbers within the circles of colored spots but he could easily distinguish sheets of brightly colored paper that were held up and this was considered adequate.  Interesting!

Mike arrived from Britain (via Los Angeles) late on Wednesday night (January 2^nd).  After an enjoyable evening at Dan and Kathy’s house, they very kindly loaned us Kathy’s car so we met Mike and took him straight back to Ala Wai.  On the whole things were a bit more normal on the 800 dock for the next few days but sitting in the cockpit Mike made a good target for our neighbors on either side to talk to at some length.  After several days, a loud and obnoxious domestic argument erupted at dinner-time on the 700 dock behind us.  No less than three police cars responded but, as thankfully seems typical for the harbor, nobody actually seemed to come to any harm.

Allowing Mike an opportunity to get caught-up on sleep and start adjusting to the 10 hour time difference between home and Hawai‘i, we started him with a slow morning on the boat followed by a drive around Honolulu including a visit to the peace and glorious panorama of the Punchbowl National Cemetery.   At Dan’s suggestion, we spent the evening with Dan and Kathy eating pu‘pus (appetizers) at La Mariana Restaurant while being entertained by the retired, floor-show singers from Waikiki.  This was the place where on our previous visit, Dan had provided assistance when a chap named Carl had lost consciousness and eventually had been wheeled out on a stretcher while the singers subscribed to the philosophy that the “show must go on”.  Nothing quite as dramatic occurred this time but Mike (who is not a great fan of musical acts) was suitably intrigued by the tiki-hut ambiance and the enthusiasm of the elderly singers.

On Friday we snorkeled at Hanauma Bay and then enjoyed a pleasant drive around the southeastern tip of O‘ahu.  Conditions for snorkeling were not ideal as the waves had made the water rather cloudy and there was a fairly strong current to overcome when swimming back from outside the inner reef.  But subsequently watching paragliders, sighting many whales, consuming shrimp lunches, visiting the two-mile long (3.2 km), sandy Kailua Beach, and admiring the spectacular views from Nu‘uanu Pali made up for any short-falls on the snorkeling experience. 

The following day we donned our walking shoes and met Kathy and Dan for the hike out to Ka‘ena Point.  Kept somewhat cool by the clouds and showers, we were rewarded for our efforts by numerous whale sightings, observation of several albatrosses including a large, well camouflaged chick, and the presence of a large Hawaiian Monk seal flopped in a somnolent posture on the rocks.  Dan also showed us an endemic Hawaiian plant that has eight subspecies of which this federally protected one, Ka‘ena Akoko, is now only found on Ka‘ena Point.  The effort involved in seeing all these wonders included having to trudge back to the cars with boot soles so caked with sticky mud that they became surprisingly difficult to lift.

Dan also explained more of the disputes that surrounded the construction of the large fence that protects the Point from mammals that harm the nesting birds (rats, mice, mongooses, dogs, etc).  On our previous visit we had been told that the fence was highly controversial but we assumed that this was because of the million dollar price tag and/or its prison-like appearance.  We were unaware of its impact on traditional Hawaiian culture.

Each Hawaiian island has at least one sacred place at which the spirits of the dead can enter the sea to continue their journey northwest along the island chain.  On O‘ahu this was believed to occur at Ka‘ena Point where the spirits came down off the mountains to launch themselves from ‘Spirit rock’ into the sea.  Since the sacred rock was within the headland sanctuary and was to be separated from the mountains by the fence, there was considerable concern that their route would be unacceptably interrupted.  After some negotiation a solution was found.  In addition to the gates through the fence that were built on each of the two trails entering the Natural Area Preserve, a third gate was aligned with the Spirit Rock and end of the mountains.  Giving the spirits a passageway through the fence that also acknowledged their intellect in understanding how correctly to open and close the pair of doors of the pest-proof gate seemed to satisfy everyone and the project was completed.

On Sunday afternoon, after Mike and I had enjoyed walking the full, 2 mile length (3.2 km) of Waikiki Beach, we were happy to entertain David and Linda on Tregoning.  They are retired friends from Palatka, Florida, who were nearing the end of their vacation in Hawai‘i and who had sent us an email to find out where we were.  We had not seen them for several years so it was fun to get caught-up with their news.  The next day we drove around the island starting at the North Shore.  We had tried to go there after our hike at Ka‘ena Point but had been forced to abandon the effort when we saw the density of Saturday afternoon traffic.  It was much easier on a Monday afternoon and we were even able to find a parking space that allowed us to spend quite a while admiring the perfectly formed Banzai Pipeline waves (quite a bit smaller than we had seen in November but impressive nonetheless).  The waves on the northeastern coast of O‘ahu were jumbled and much less majestic but the background views were dramatic enough to warrant admiration.

Having established that there were no cruise ships in port on Tuesday, we made an early morning sortie to Pearl Harbor.  Even though this was a third visit for Randall and me, there are so many details and nuances to absorb at the Visitor Center and on the tour to the USS Arizona that we were still not bored but continued to be captivated by the dignity and complexity of the WWII story that unfolds there.

On our way back from Pearl Harbor we stopped for lunch in Chinatown and appreciatively returned Kathy’s car to her.  We had originally intended to sail to Kaua‘i the following day (Wednesday) but by that time the forecasts looked better for Thursday so we postponed our departure by a day which allowed Mike and I time to wander around Ala Moana Park.  Mike was more interested in visiting Kaua‘i with its spectacular scenery than the volcanoes on the Big Island so our plan was to sail downwind to the harbor at Nawiliwili.  If the weather subsequently allowed us to sail or motor to the southeast, we would then go to Maui, Moloka‘i, or straight back to O‘ahu. If, however, winter finally decided to impose some unpleasant wind and wave conditions, Mike could always fly back to Honolulu from Kaua‘i to catch his flight home in late March.  Or so we hoped.

On Monday (February 13^th), we had to return to Hilo for the fourth time in two weeks so that the doctor could remove my stitches and check the motion in my thumb.  Since I have been easily removing the stitches from Randall’s skin-cancer head-wounds, we thought that we might be able to do it ourselves but the doctor insisted that we return.  This was just as well as it took both the nurse and doctor quite a bit of uncomfortable pulling to complete the procedure.  He was pleased however by the movement that I had already regained once the bandages had been removed three days after surgery.  He assured me that within a couple of months all should be back to normal and, most significantly, I could now get my hand wet.  I enjoyed the first opportunity to thoroughly wash my hands…a simple pleasure restored.

We had driven to Hilo via Saddle Road after Randall had made an early and satisfactory visit to the dentist.  With some time to spare before my appointment, we had stopped briefly to check-out the cabins at the Mauna Kea State Recreation Area.  Looking up from this area on the southwestern side of Mauna Kea, the observatories on the summit were hidden from view by cinder cones and the moraines left by glaciers that had formed part of the ice caps that covered this dormant volcano during various ice-ages, most recently 13,000 years ago.  To the east of the deep, dark scar of Pohakula Gulch, we could see the Mauna Kea Ice Age Natural Area Reserve which is topped by Lake Wai‘au, the third-highest lake in the USA.  Although there has been some snow on Mauna Kea during our stay in Hawai‘i, it was still difficult to imagine that the shape of the summit had been carved by glaciers and ice caps as well as the cinder cones that were formed as recently at 4,400 years ago.

We then had the idea to drive up to the Visitor Information Station for the Onizuka Center for International Astronomy (managed by the Office of Muana Kea Management part of the University of Hawai‘i at Hilo).  The 6 mile (10 km) drive off Saddle Road rises to the station at 9,200 ft (2,804 m) and we had been rewarded with another clear and sunny day.  There were not many other cars on the road but, remarkably, we passed a bicyclist slogging his way up.  We subsequently met him at the Visitor Center where he refueled himself after cycling the 30 miles (48 km) from Hilo and before riding the same distance (mostly downhill) to Waikoloa.  Amazing!

Neither of us felt any particular effects of the altitude but there were plenty of notices warning visitors of the symptoms.  If you go on up to Mauna Kea’s summit at 13,796 ft (4,205 m) you are encouraged to stop at the Visitor Center for at least 30 minutes to start getting acclimatized but even then quite a few people feel ill.  We did not have the warm clothes, four-wheel-drive vehicle, or time necessary to make the full ascent that day but after watching the interesting series of videos at the Visitor Center, we decided that sometime we would like to go up to see the summit with its 12 observatories.  There is also something appealing about going to the highest point in the central Pacific Ocean (there are higher peaks in Indonesia and Papua New Guinea).   

I had hoped that we would be able to stay in Hilo on Monday night so that on Tuesday we could visit the ‘Imi Loa Astronomy Center on the UH Hilo campus.  We could then return to Kona via the southern route, a with stop to snorkel at Honaunau (“two step”), a highly rated dive-site 20 miles (32 km) south of Honokohau.  Instead, we will have to save those excitements for another visit because a narrow weather window to sail to Honolulu was opening on Tuesday and we needed to get back to meet my brother, Mike.  So having returned over Saddle Road on Monday afternoon, we scurried around on Tuesday morning, dropping off the car and cycling back from the airport, and then preparing to cast-off.  The latter process took quite a long time as we carefully fed a line out to a cleat on the dock while pulling ourselves back on the mooring lines, removed our lines from the permanent mooring lines, and then threw the latter up onto the frame on the mooring ball so that Lurline or the next user of the slip could pick them up easily.  At least neither of us had to go into the water.  We did all this under the watchful eyes of Cheryl and Steve who had come to wave us off, and Peter and Margarita on Seatime who were probably itching to get in their dinghy and help us speed-up the laborious process.

Still, it was good to get Tregoning back out to sea and we enjoyed several hours of beautiful sailing through the early afternoon.  Gradually the wind decreased and veered towards our bow so we soon found ourselves motoring.  We ended up motoring the rest of the way to O‘ahu with periods of assistance from the jib but the anticipated east winds that would have allowed us to sail again never materialized.  The seas were not too rough so in all it was a fairly easy overnight passage with plenty of stars, a satisfactory supply of Valentine’s Day chocolate, and the glorious sights of humpback whales while we crossed Penguin Bank (off the west end of Moloka‘i).

We arrived at Ala Wai Harbor in Honolulu during the mid-afternoon and we quickly located the slip that had been assigned to us on the 800 dock.  The gap between neighboring boats looked very narrow and with the stern mooring ball in the middle, it all looked a bit intimidating.  But we had a sure-fire plan so we were confident that neither of us would be swimming this time.  The first part of the plan went well and I was able to drop a loop on a long line over the mooring ball.  In theory, it would then have been simple to continue forward into the slip as I walked the line back to the stern and up to a winch for Randall to control from the helm.  I would then scamper forward and toss the bow lines to a helpful neighbor who was already waiting on the dock.

As has become tediously predictable, things did not go according to plan.  I had difficulty getting the heavy stern line clear of all deck obstacles and back to Randall, during which time the strong cross wind swung the bow around faster than Randall could compensate, given his lack of bow-thruster and very limited room.  Eventually when we were no longer pointing at the dock and could not safely maneuver while continuing to hold the line on the mooring ball, I had to throw the latter in the water and we retreated to the fuel dock.  After abandoning the idea of swimming to retrieve the sunken line on the mooring ball, we realized that the wind had dropped so we were able to nose into the dock, tie-off the bow, and then lash Tregoning to the upwind, neighboring boat until we could get lines onto the mooring ball.  Given that our close neighbors prevented us from launching the dinghy, the latter operation inevitably required one of us to go swimming and I was glad that Randall was willing to volunteer.  So it was still not the flawless Tahiti-tie docking about which we had fantasized but we were finally secure and had not hit anything.

The next few days were spent getting checked-in, tidying-up the boat, accomplishing a few chores (e.g., Randall repainted the cockpit’s binnacle while I worked on the blog), and resting while trying to ignore my head- and various body-aches and Randall’s new cough.  Although we were determined not to succumb to colds, if we had to be sick it would be better to get it over with before Mike arrived on Wednesday night (Feb 22^nd).  We also assumed that we would be exploring O‘ahu again once Mike arrived, so quietly minding our own business on the boat seemed like a good idea especially given the very gusty, cloudy, and occasionally showery weather.  Sadly, Dan and Kathy’s rental house had been broken-into for the second time so they were understandably preoccupied with all the repercussions from that.

As much as we enjoyed the view of the surf and setting sun at the Ala Wai 800 dock (the most seaward dock), we found that compared to our previous stay in October, the melodrama seemed to have increased.  While it did not directly affect us, one of our neighbors seemed intent on keeping us up-to-date with the latest episodes of the local soap-opera and the presence of police to deal with domestic disputes on two of our first three days there at least caused us to pay some attention.  By chance, I walked out to the dock chatting with an officer on the second occasion and it seemed that everything revolved around several somewhat odd people (their erratic behavior being probably drug, drink, and/or mental-illness induced) who lived-on or visited some of the boats beyond ours on the 800 dock.  There seemed to be rotating alliances between the various characters which alternated between doing favors for each other and then calling for restraining orders. 

One of the central characters was a frail man staying on the small motor boat next to us who was recovering from pneumonia and rather pathetically repeated the exact same stories every time he saw us.  One morning, having had to listen to his stories yet again as I was getting off Tregoning, it dawned on me that he was talking at me while using the porta-potty on the stern swim-platform of the boat.  I was selfishly very thankful when he moved that night to a boat further away.  With friends coming to visit for breakfast the next morning, I had been desperately trying to think of a way to distract their attention had he been there to repeat his on-the-pot performance.

Instead, things actually seemed fairly normal by the time Maria and Beth arrived at the boat on Friday morning.  Friends from Gainesville, they had been spending their first trip to Hawai‘i staying in a hotel that overlooked the harbor.  It was great to see them and to catch-up on news from Gainesville and the University of Florida.  They were managing to cram plenty of activities into their week-long visit and we were glad that we had returned to Honolulu in time to catch them before their departure for Florida later that day.  At least they would be returning to fairly pleasant weather.  Mike, on the other hand, was going to be arriving late on Wednesday night after escaping the rotten winter weather that had its grip in Britain and much of Europe.  Talking to him on Monday, he was obviously very excited by this prospect and we were really looking forward to a month of showing him around the state of Hawai‘i.

On Saturday afternoon (February 4^th) when Randall and I went to the Kona International Airport to meet Jere and Nancy on their flight from Honolulu, we knew that we were about to begin an energetic week.  In Gainesville, Florida, they run The Adventure Club with almost limitless enthusiasm for outdoor activities and in recent years Nancy has been competing in sprint-triathlons and training for a half marathon.  They had never been to Hawai‘i before but had just spent a day and a half on O‘ahu where their friend had given them the grand-tour around the whole island, so we knew that they would be hungry to do as much as possible on the Big Island.

We eased into the activities fairly slowly on Sunday.  After a leisurely walk around the harbor and through the south end of Kaloko-Honokohau National Historical Park, we drove south through Kailua Kona to Kahalu‘u Beach Park.  It was very crowded but I because I was not snorkeling (keeping my stitches dry) I was able to stay in the car until a space was vacated in the small parking-lot while the others laid claim to a small patch of unoccupied sand.  Despite waves that would have made snorkeling at “our” harbor beach rather uncomfortable, the conditions at Kahalu‘u were ideal because the bay was protected by a line of rocks at the outer edge of the shallow reef.

By the end of the day, after Jere and Randall had watched the Super Bowl at the Bite-Me Restaurant and after much debate about what activities to organize, we had a plan for the first part of the campaign.  The only potential spanner-in-the-works was the mid-week forecast for large northwesterly swells.  This would not only preclude comfortable boating and snorkeling but given the surges that would be affecting the outer harbor, it made us a bit nervous about leaving Tregoning unattended.  Thus, while conditions were still fairly calm on Monday and after I had shown Nancy a running loop up to the highway and back through the Kaloko-Honokohau Park, we piled in the car and drove over Saddle Road to Hilo.  After a quick lunch at Ken’s House of Pancakes, Randall and Jere dropped Nancy and I at the airport where we were going on a Blue Hawaiian Helicopter Tour.  Nancy was very generously sponsoring this “Circle of fire plus waterfalls” tour for herself and another person, and Jere (who had had his fill of helicopters in Vietnam) kindly allowed me to be the lucky partner.  The seating for the six passengers was pre-assigned (based on weight distribution) so I felt rather guilty when I got the window seat and Nancy was in a mid-seat next to me.  However, she assured afterwards that this worked out well because she left me the responsibility of taking photos for both of us while she could focus on enjoying the dramatic scenery and not feeling motion-sick.  It was the first significant helicopter trip that she had made so she was very excited as we swooped forward on becoming airborne.  I love being in the air, and looking down on places that were familiar from the ground was particularly thrilling.

The 50 minute flight took us south of Hilo over the eastern point of the island to the eastern edge of Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park where we circled several times over the glowing and steaming vent of Pu‘u O‘o, the most active area on the eastern flank of Kilauea, which has been erupting since 1983.  We learned from our very informative pilot, Zach, that the intensity of the eruption varied almost daily and while there were sometimes dramatic “lava fountains” or rivers of glowing, molten lava flowing down to enter the sea with explosive clouds of steam, most of the time the process of land creation was quieter and more gradual.  We day that we had chosen had the latter conditions but we were lucky that the few clouds were high and the gases from the Pu‘u O‘o vent were such that we could swing low over the cinder cone and briefly peer into the open vent. 

We then flew seaward from the vent and although we could not see red flows, Zach pointed out the hot, shiny, grey pahoehoe lava with occasional steam plumes under which was an extensive lava tube from the end of which magma was gradually extruding.  We saw trees at the edge of the lava that showed signs of recent fire damage and we were shown the remnants of the Royal Gardens subdivision where a few patches of woods, sections of road, and a single house survive defiantly in a frozen river of grey lava that cascades around them and over the gradual curve of the overrun pali.  The owner of the remaining house used a cross-country motor-bike to reach his property and for a while had even run it as a unique, extreme, guest-house with visitors and supplies brought in and out by helicopter.

Since 1983, the Pu‘u O‘o eruption has produced over 2 billion cubic yards of lava (1.53 billion cubic meters).  This have created more than 300 acres of new land (121 ha), destroyed 200 houses, resurfaced at least 7 miles of roads (11 km), and buried both ancient Hawaiian archaeological sites and a National Park visitor center.  

At the coast, famous black sand beaches have been covered and due to an unfortunate left-hand turn of a branch of the lava flow, the community of Kalapana was smothered.  Not only would there be no insurance coverage for volcanic activity in these areas but depending upon estimated threat, most home-builders in potentially susceptible areas would not be able to get loans or mortgages.  So it was with some surprise that we saw roads ground out of the new lava and several houses that had been boldly erected amid the sea of black.  Apparently some of the people who owned land in the resurfaced area could afford to rebuild and were not going to let their stark, tenuous surroundings put them off living there.  Their attachment to almost valueless land must be more resolute than I think that I could muster.

Once we started to fly back inland, I expected that our “circle of fire” tour would also take us over the main Kilauea Caldera but instead we headed due north to the inland side of Hilo.  In retrospect, I do not remember seeing helicopters flying low over Kilauea so perhaps the area is off-limits to commercial flights.  Instead we flew over the Hawai‘i Falls on the Wailuku River, part of the water-supply for Hilo.  Since the Big Island was suffering from a winter drought (the governor had recently declared parts of the state disaster areas), there was not much water in the streams and pools between the diminished falls.  While this part of the tour was a bit anti-climactic, there was a special treat awaiting us in the final approach to the airport over Hilo Bay.

Zach had no sooner suggested that we look for whales, than cries went up from either side of the cabin as two groups of humpbacks were spotted just below the water surface.  We had to stay up high as we tightly circled in each direction so as not to disturb the whales.  This made it difficult to get good photos but we had some marvelous views of adults and calves surfacing to breathe and diving deep.  In the clear blue ocean outside the bay’s breakwater, the long, white pectoral fins of the adult whales could be clearly seen.  It was an extended and magical end to our thrilling flight and Nancy and I were abuzz with our tales when Randall and Jere picked us up for ice-creams and the drive back to Honokohau.

We decided to drive back around the northern end of the island, stopping on the way at Akaka Falls State Park and the Waipi‘o Valley Lookout.  Although the drought must have reduced flow, the 442 feet high (135 m) Akaka Falls were still impressive as they dropped from the lush green lip over the cliff straight down into the dark pool of the Kolekole Stream.  There was another tall waterfall downstream in the park, Kahuna Falls, but in addition being more distant and partly obscured by vegetation it was not quite as dramatic being a cascading- rather than free-falling waterfall.  Akaka Falls are twice the height of Niagara Falls but the latter are obviously much more impressive when it comes to overall volume of water.  According to a park sign, the world’s highest free-falling waterfall is Angel Falls in Venezuela with a height of 3,212 ft (979 m).

The highest waterfall in the USA (and one of the highest in the world) is the Waihilau Falls with a sheer drop of 2,600 feet (792 m) into the Waimanu Valley on the eastern flank of the Big Island’s Kohala Volcano.  Although we were not very far away from this valley when we stopped at the Waipi‘o Valley Lookout it is not obvious that the whole fall could be visible from any trails and it might require a helicopter tour to see this dramatic feature in the area that is considered to be the spiritual heartland of ancient Hawai‘i.  Ancient Hawaiian villages thrived in the Waipi‘o Valley until they were destroyed and the agricultural fields and ponds were contaminated by salt during the two large tsunamis in the early and mid-20^th century.  We declined the opportunity to take a guided tour in a four-wheel drive vehicle down the steep roads into the privately owned valley.

The Waipi‘o Valley is at the south end of the 12 to 13 mile wide (19 – 21 km) scar where the massive Pololu Landslide 250,000 years ago sent debris 80 miles (130 km) into the ocean.  The following day, Nancy and I drove to the north end of the area to hike down to the beach at Pololu Valley.  The steep zig-zag path and beach were surprisingly busy but it was another gloriously sunny day with the blue ocean and receding series of cliffs shown-off to dramatic effect.  The southwesterly wind picked-up during the morning and after it threated to snatch away the sandwiches that we were eating at an out-door café in Hawi, we started to view it with some concern on the drive back to Honokohau.

Particularly where the wind was whistling into the Waimea valley, between Kohala and Muana Kea, the sea appeared to be whipped into a white-streaked frenzy which made us a bit anxious about the comfort of Randall and Jere who had chosen that morning to go out on a commercial sport-fishing boat before the swells became too high.  As it happened, we returned to Honokohau just as their “Bite-Me” charter boat had pulled-up to the dock and started to unload their catch. 

Randall and Jere had been all excited about this expedition (neither Nancy nor I had much interest and I could do little with my bandaged thumb) and they had sensibly both taken anti-sea-sickness pills so were in good spirits despite the rough conditions.  There had been six passengers on the charter (three other men and one woman), a captain (Chad), and deck-hand (the captain’s dad).  There were five numbered reels and every half-hour the passengers rotated who was responsible for which reel and who had a period off.  By this method it was complete chance as to who got to reel-in any fish.

Randall and Jere were keen to learn all about the charter business and local fishing techniques so the first three of the four-hours of the charter passed fairly quickly.  Fishing primarily for blue marlin, they trolled their lines about 4 miles (7 km) off-shore where the water depth was 6,000 ft (1,830 m).   After seeing little activity other than the other milling charter boats, they eventually spotted some seabirds and dolphins which are often indicators of schools of feeding tuna.  Almost immediately two reels started to scream and although the bite on one was only temporary, the other was a good hook-up and Bernie was called to be strapped into the fighting chair.  It took him about 20 minutes to reel-in in the fish and once the heavy-duty leader was at the boat’s stern, Chad and his dad both gaffed it and hauled the large yellow-fin tuna aboard.

Although Jere was initially disappointed that only one person had been able to work the reel, once it became apparent that Bernie was willing to share the catch and they could easily have returned with no bites at all, he soon cheered up.  By the time Nancy and I arrived, the fish had been hung up at the Bite-Me Restaurant and it weighed at a respectable 117 lbs (53 kg).  Numerous photos were taken of the fish and charter participants and we then got to request how much fish we wanted.  Since there were four of us and we were not staying in a hotel, we asked for the most, 10 lbs (4.5 kg) which was available in two full zip-loc bags an hour later.  Because Bernie could not take the fish home, he was having the restaurant cook up his share into a meal and what the passengers did not take was added to the restaurant’s menu or was sold in their fish-shop.  With ahi selling there for $19 per lb, we were very satisfied with our share and we ate delicious raw and cooked tuna for most of the rest of the week.  It was a real treat and even though the pepper-encrusted, pan seared tuna steaks that Jere cooked the first night were so peppery that the rest of us had to evacuate  the cabin due to the choking fumes from the frying pan, they tasted spectacular not only for dinner but sliced on salad for lunch the next day.

As predicted the swell was quite impressive by Wednesday with surf crashing ashore on “our” beach and occasional waves almost breaking all the way across the narrow harbor entrance.  Although the harbor was not closed-out (as happens when swells are big enough to break all the way in or might ground a boat between crests) only a few hardy dive-boats left that day and virtually no fishing boats.  The US Army Corps of Engineers apparently constructed the harbor entrance fairly well because the waves did not directly pass the double right-angle bends into the inner harbor.  Some surge did penetrate the first bend to reach us in the outer harbor so using the jib-sheet winches we hauled Tregoning back away from the dock towards the stern mooring-ball.  We had also attached to our bow the chains and heavy dock lines that Lurline had left onshore and these were heavy enough to smooth out much of the surging motion. 

Despite these precautions, Randall decided to stay onboard while the rest of us went to explore some local sights.  Nancy was keen to tour a coffee plantation but irritatingly the first place that we visited in the town of Captain Cook was not offering tours despite their online advertising.  Instead, we did a bit of shopping in Kailua Kona and Nancy soon found herself deep in conversation with a couple of salespeople about the Kona Ironman, a brutal triathlon that is held in mid-October.  Although Nancy had no aspirations about completing an Ironman (the Kona is: 2.4 miles swim – 3.86 km; 112 miles bicycling – 180 km; 26.2 miles marathon run – 42.2 km) she was fascinated by the event and quickly formulated a new goal for her bucket-list (things to do before you die) to swim, cycle, and run on parts of the Kona Ironman course.  Jere then discovered that we could rent an out-rigger canoe and be taken on an historical tour of Kailua Kona Bay and our plans for Friday were soon formulated.

We returned to Tregoning for lunch, just in time to see that while she was all right the chain had broken connecting the mooring lines to the stern ball of the neighboring cruising yacht, Seatime.  Randall heard the crew of the nearby diving boat exclaim when they saw the yacht’s stern suddenly swing towards the large motor cruiser on the other side from Tregoning.  The divers were very conscientious and in addition to holding Seatime off its neighbor, they figured out what had happened and with one person in the water they rigged up some new mooring lines to attach to the ball.  It was very encouraging to see fellow harbor-users quickly taking care of an unoccupied boat. 

Meanwhile someone had called Peter and Margarita, the German owners of Seatime, and they arrived back from town on their bicycles just as the divers had finished.  They were very grateful and spent the rest of the afternoon checking and retying lines.  Compared to ours, their slip was poorly maintained on shore and their boat had to jerk around in the surge without the benefit of the chained lines that we had at our bow.  Still, it was not very reassuring that part of the mooring chain broke so we were very glad that Randall had been willing to stay on Tregoning during the worst of the surging.

Once this excitement was over, Jere, Nancy, and I drove inland, up the flanks of Hualalai Volcano, to the Mountain Thunder coffee plantation at 3,200 ft (975 m).  Here we watched a series of videos (including an episode from the TV show “Dirty Jobs”) about the coffee plantation and then went on a complimentary tour which was pretty interesting even for a non-coffee drinker like me.  We learned about: the organic fertilization; hand-picking techniques used in Kona; sorting of the cherries (name for the red, ripe fruit); seed extraction (usually two seeds per fruit but if there is only one they are called “peas” and are sought for more concentrated flavor); seed drying in the sun; removal of the “paper” skin surrounding the seeds; grading the seeds on vibrating, gravity-based sorting-boards; and finally roasting the seeds to perfection.  All the employees we saw had bulging biceps from hauling the sacks of beans and our otherwise slender guide was no exception.  She was also drinking black coffee (adding milk or cream is considered sacrilegious) and her highly animated state with, as Jere learned, little tolerance for interruption of her discourse by questions, was perhaps a good illustration of the effects of caffeine.  Actually, Kona coffee is supposed to have only half the amount of caffeine that is found in other coffees, at least assuming it is 100% Kona coffee.  Blends with at least 10% Kona beans can be marketed as Kona coffee (although the percentage must be noted) but our guide was suitably disparaging of the quality of such impostors.

Needless to say, the tour ended in the gift shop and Jere did his duty by buying some expensive organic coffee and some chocolate-covered coffee beans.  By odd coincidence, while we were waiting for our tour to begin a private tour was ending and I noticed that the participants were wearing name-badges for the Weed Science Society of America conference which was taking place at the Hilton Waikoloa Village Hotel.  Not only did Randall and I occasionally to go to these conferences but for three years I was on the society’s board of directors.  Initially I did not recognize anyone on this particular field-trip but just before they left I saw an old friend from Europe on their bus.  I decided not to complicate matters by trying to catch Marija’s eye but it was a bit surreal to see someone from my professional past during a chance path-crossing at a coffee plantation in the middle of the Pacific.

By Thursday the swell and surges had diminished sufficiently that Randall felt comfortable joining us for a day at Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park.  We were treated to splendid weather and although it was fairly cool at 4,078 feet (1,243 m) we all enjoyed views of the steaming Kilauea Caldera, the Jagger Museum, the main Visitor Center, and Jere, Nancy and I had a good stroll along the Steaming Bluff.  After a quick lunch in Volcano Village we drove down the Chain of Craters Road to the Holei Sea Arch and lava-covered end of the road.  We stopped to peer into a couple of craters on the return drive as well join the parade through the popular Thurston lava tunnel.  The “natural” park experience was somewhat modified by the presence of machines laying new road surfaces at several locations but the work has to be done sometime and the delays, noise, and dust were kept to a minimum.  We were glad at the end of the 100 mile (160 km) return drive around the south end of the island to find that the swell had further decreased and all was well with Tregoning and Seatime.

While most people would have felt fairly worn-out by this busy schedule, Jere and particularly Nancy were full of vigor on Friday morning with the prospect of paddling an out-rigger canoe and swimming on part of the Kona Ironman course.  Randall joined the paddling team while I got to ride along with my right hand strapped in a plastic glove.  Our canoe and organizing team were ready and waiting for us by the King Kamehmeha Hotel at 9 am but our guide, the 80-year old Jesse, thought that we were going out at 10 am.  After a rather late start, however, he cheerfully greeted us and steered us around the bay, pausing at regular intervals to talk about the history of the island and local community.  With Jesse at the stern it was not always easy for Jere and I in the front two seats to hear him, especially when we floated near a noisy blowhole on the rocky shoreline.  But as if to compensate for this problem, we were almost immediately distracted by humpback whales (an adult and a calf) that spent half an hour or so surfacing and diving just a few hundred yards off-shore. Some paddle-boarders were taking photos nearby and many people were enjoying the view from the town dock so there was something particularly tender about all of us focusing so passively on these massive mammals.

The sea and wind that had been so uninviting when we had booked the tour on Wednesday, had calmed down beautifully and Kailua Kona with its Hulihe‘e Palace and early missionary church looked particularly attractive from the sea.  While the others had to concentrate on their paddling, I was able to gaze overboard at the reef-fish and coral clearly visible beneath us.  At the end of our tour when we returned to the small Ahu‘ena Heiau on the point of land just in front of the King Kamehameha Hotel, Jesse explained that he was a direct descendant of the King.  We felt privileged to have been paddling with someone who had such close connections to the history of this area, where the King had once lived.

 While I watched their bags, the other three set off to swim varying distances along the Ironman course.  There were a just few other people swimming and snorkeling in the marked area, off the small beach just south of the town dock, so it was difficult to imagine the chaos that must accompany the start of the Kona Ironman when about 1,800 competitors try to take-off all at once.  Not only do life-guards watch from the surface to check that no one gets into trouble but scuba-divers sit at the bottom during the start to make sure that no one is knocked-out or pushed-under by the mob.

On Saturday morning, to complete her personal homage to the Ironman, Nancy and I cycled for half an hour and then ran for half an hour from the harbor and out onto the Queen Ka‘ahumanu Highway, along which both the cycling and marathon courses pass.  This accomplished, Nancy then joined Jere and Randall for a final snorkel at “our” beach.  This completed their action-packed week in Kona and after lunch at the Harbor House Restaurant we dropped them off at the airport for their return flights to Honolulu and then on to Gainesville.  It had been a fun week and Jere and Nancy were almost delirious about all the things that they had accomplished including several items from their bucket-lists.  Their generosity and enthusiasm had also encouraged us to do some things that we would not have otherwise undertaken so we felt rewarded…and not a little exhausted.  We did not do much for the rest of Saturday and were very thankful on Sunday when Steve and Cheryl invited us over for the afternoon and dinner at the mansion where they were house-sitting.  In addition to spending an enjoyably relaxing time with them, we ran several loads of laundry, sparing me a long trip to the Laundromat.  Ah, the simple pleasures of life on land.