University of Hawaii Manoa

     I was accepted at the University with the loss of many, credits from WWSU and UNO.   These losses was mitigated by being able to stay in the system an extra two years in the best place on earth: Hawaii.  

      It seems as though I was being followed. The President of WWU showed up as the President of the University of Hawaii I was attending.Mortimer was no stranger to me. When I saw his name, I knew he jumped over to keep an eye on my whereabouts. I guess it empowers him with the feds who control the purse strings of higher education equation.

     When I was at WWSU, they built a new radio station around me.They were using me to finance something more ambitious like the new building which turned into the premier computer laboratory of the Pacific.   I only started putting things together after I graduated with Honors with the coveted Golden Key National Honor Society Membership. The Golden Key is really nothing to be proud of since it means you get to pay dues to the dudes who were first.  The Japanese were always on my case for unknown reasons.  The even taunted me as I made my way to the stage to receive the Golden Key Honor Society Certificate and my diploma.   I bailed and went to work in the hospitals. Follow me now Mort.

   C  It was a pretty sweet thing to be at University.  Go play in the surf before class. Eat at the cafeteria and swim at the Olympic pool.  The only thing wrong was that you would be forced to pay back every cent at a whopping 7% interest which increases with each passing month.  It took me years to pay off that debt. I am still broke as a swayback mule. That was very.hard work but I paid back every penny.

   I finally moved off campus. This was because of the rampant drug problems on campus. The University is the place to go for an education...in drug use.    I started working as an informant again with a Navy Seal trying to protect students from the crazy drug abuse around campus. There were many casualties. Someone jumped to their death because the drugs made them think they could fly. 

      I worked for the Suicide Prevention hotline helping to develop a strategy for intervention.  Those algorithms are still used to this day. I am not saying I developed them but I certainly had a hand in that.  There was nothing before.  We used the campus radio, the newspapers and other mediums to get the word out.   I  was big on condom distribution. We handed out condoms to students in a bid to prevent STDs. At the same time, I was working at night at Straub Hospital and Suites as an orderly with no pay..No sex for me during my time at the University of Hawaii Manoa.

      I was the lab runner taking specimens from the ER to the lab as well as being a CNA.  At least I was staying in shape. I was biking to work at night. There were many near misses with death that are legendary.  God protects fools.
      Hawaii is filled with beautiful girls.  All of them are taken at an early age and frequently abused by brothers, cousins and family friends.  Tacos de Ojos or eye candy for the rest of us.  The drugs in those days were very powerful and the users regularly interfered with my sleep. There was no escape from these meth driven idiots who would mix and match smoking cannabis (pakalolo) and cocaine in search of the prefect high. No matter where you project to...you will always be called back to your body until you die.     Sometimes that comes in the form of a drunken overdose on the bathroom floor. I could tell these were troubled students when I moved into the Y across the street from Campus. The room I got was sprinkled with stardust and glitter all over the walls and ceiling.  Only stoners would decorate like that.      

   I'd lead the sweet Japanese girls on biking expeditions to the beach. Sometimes, this was the first they had ever been allowed to go anywhere with a male.  I felt privileged but never loved fully by any of them.   I had my favorites but they were simply unobtainable.  An empty gift box that led to Nowhere Soon.
.   Some of the most beautiful and intelligent people are hybrids of mixed race people.  The full Chop Suey as the Hawaiians are apt to say.   Some where breathtaking and some were homey but all were super smart and well taught.  Luck of the genes.
   I heard about the Bon Dance taking place in one of those back parking lots many storefronts have.  This is the most charming of circular dances I've ever witnessed.  The story is a son pledged to feed his mother even after her death to make her transition easier.  This dance is based upon the joy a parent feels when the child returns and assumes his role in the family. 

     Everyone is dressed in traditional garments.  There are women passing out treats. Tables set up to distribute meals to everyone for free.  The next day, all go to the graveyard to clean and place fresh flowers on the gravestones. Tears are freely flowing as this ritual is repeated annually.
   The Tongans take this a step further.  They actually dig up their ancestors and carefully clean each and every bone of every speck of dirt.  This is an all day event.  They then wrap the bones in their finest tapa.  The ritual is completed with the reburial.   Again, the sobbing and loss is evident.  This is how Tongans feel about their ancestors.  They are that close to family members.   

     These people represent some of the oldest civilizations known.  The true age of these islanders is well documented in legends passed down from father to son.  I spent many days on the narrow beach which is all that is left of most shores of Honolulu trying to get my daily dose of Vitamin D. The houses are built as close to the ocean as humanly possible since land is at a premium there, usually costing way more than the house. Some of the most beautiful dwellings you will ever see are on Oahu. 

      My trick was to buy a used bicycle whenever I landed in a new place. It didn't matter what it looked like as long as I could make it to the grocery store.    Many of these bikes I bought were stolen by the desperate.. A beach bike is worth its weight in gold.

       I camped most of my life,  It was a rare thing to have a room or some semblance of home life. I thought I could be alright if I managed to graduate and find a job.  I did, but the reality is the price of housing in the USA. I was paying a great deal of money each month for the privilege of indoor plumbing.   If, for any reason, you must go to a new scene then expect your bank account to slowly disappear.  They will find a way to steal your money.  

       Usually, the landlord won't even give back the deposit.  They figure you won't ever take them to court because small claims court is their racket.  They simply call you a loser and start looking for a new victim. Rental housing is the American scam.
     The islands had been good to me over the years.  It took a long time with much effort to get back in school.  You must keep applying for as much financial aid as possible simply because there are huge scholarships available to floundering students. The Black Family donated a vast sum to the University of Hawaii.  There are many other similar scholarships like the Pell Grant which really makes higher education possible for poor students.  We all are poor at first, until we realize there is no one out there who will help us.  No one at all. 

 Marriage is a deal you invest in. When that ends, you will have to start over with a broken spirit and those old clothes you squirreled away for that rainy day.  Seems like it is raining every day now.  This is why I don't pay much attention to the media or the news. It is all bad.  Just a hook to lead you to somewhere you didn't want to go.  Life is a struggle.  Yes, you can fool yourself into thinking that things are alright but remember, that grim reaper guy is just a few decades away.  You can't take it with you.

     I had a good job after I graduated. It was super hard to even get the job at Queens Hospital. I had to present every piece of evidence of my dedication to patients. These included extra learning modules that are hospital driven.  Every opportunity to work, I took advantage of. Whether it was counseling younger students in career choices or getting all the certifications you need to continue to work in a hospital doing some chore that is needed at that moment.

    When you are working, someone always wants to trick you out of the money you have.  Stay healthy and stay alert for a better job.  Doing something you like is the way to go. Day after day in a lab is hard.  Day after day sitting at desk doing someone else's bidding is troubling. Never be afraid to ask questions about what a job pays.  Be smart. Do the calculations on paper.  You must realize money is the object for your survival.

       There are many unknowns out there waiting to ensnare you. Being frugal is respected by most working people.  Remember too, your working life can abruptly change in a heartbeat. Good luck  Stay healthy.  Be available. 

Cobalt Blue Seas

    Tonga was a dream come true. Leaving the Melanesians of Fiji for the Polynesians of Tonga was truly life changing.  Straight hair ruled now. The kinky hair of the Oceanic Negro replaced by the long black hair of Polynesia.This is the demarcation between these people. Tonga with the charming beauty of the South Pacific replaces service to the outer islands and homesteads decorating the many coves around Neiafu. We made a deal. 

     He would give me the antibiotics, if I would fix his backdoor stairs. It was a lot of work. I managed to stack blocks and cement them together in a suitable arrangement that neither pleased the monk or the personnel he had working for him. This was a stairway to heaven. Not a beautiful stairway but completely functional.  On to another project and thank you for the antibiotics.
     The days passed in beautiful sunsets and evening walks with young ladies who were interested in the sailing life.The work was taking its toll on me.  Hazardous ladder sets in the huge open pavillion required a safety officer.  One day a skipper and crew showed up at the Hotel to watch this circus of painters. These Swiss saulors kept saying loudly, "he's gonna fall, he's gonna fall" to anyone in earshot. I slowly climbed down and sauntered over to the table and asked very politely..... "Why are you throwing such negativity at me as if you know me?  Shut your damn pie hole."

     In the next few minutes, I discovered new friends who were sailing the next day for Nuku'Alofa where the King of Tonga ruled his Kingdom. The King was in the midst of his 25th anniversary. That evening I packed my few belongings in a sail bag and made my way down to this aluminum, twin finned wonder of a sailboat.

      This ship was a salvage job. She was grounded on a reef by the German skipper who abandoned her. Along comes these pirates from Switzerland who seize this as an opportunity and stole the boat as salvage. You can do this on the high seas without legal reprocussions.     

      They jumped from one ship to another like a hermit crab that outgrows his shell. These pirates simply took over this new ship and refloated her on the full moon. You can do salvage at sea if you study the law and tide charts.   The German owner probably got his money back by filing an insurance claim.

   This painting gig was doing nothing for my attitude.  I bought a hibiscus Lava Lava at the gift shop which is about all the clothing one needs in the South Pacific. It becomes your towel, sunshade and seat all rolled into this magical piece of cloth. I was off again to the briny blue of the cobalt blue waters that encircled these enchanted islands. Only one catch. No food aboard this ship of fools.

       Everyone was emptying their guts at the swim platform. When someone gets sick then nearly everyone succumbs to Mal de Mer. There were seven souls aboard this aluminum twin finned swifty. 

    As an aside, never bring copper on an aluminum sailboat. If you drop a penny, the copper will react and eventually eat a hole through the hull. The wonders of galvanic action are always a huge concern for mariners.
     I had prepared well by tying great streaming flies on hooks. They were ferocious looking things with bloodied streamers and yellow guts looking just like a wounded fish trying to swim away.  The Swiss captain fixed an outrigger from an old sailboard mast he had scavenged.  The mast was completed with a plastic clothes pin at the end.

      There was a lot riding on this venture. We were all hungry.  All seven of us were intently expecting success.  I  tied a fly onto a spool of fishing line I brought complete with a leader.   I hooked the line in the clothespin and we extended the outrigger.   With a sliding lead weight positioned about ten feet ahead of the lure kept it down to the proper depth.  We sailed on, hungry and looking for an easy mark. 

    Suddenly, a 6 foot Dorado jumped in pursuit of the lure. We slowed the boat by turning so the fish could keep up. That made the lure even more enticing since slowing means weakness. He struck and was hooked well snapping the line from the clothespin. The skipper dumped the wind by luffing into the breeze.  

     Excitement reigned at this capture. We were all jubilant. The 6' dorado was a mere youngster who had been fooled and paid for his mistake with his life. We hauled him up on the swim platform.  Everyone was visibly struck by the beautiful colors of this living rainbow. As he perished, his colors went from rainbow to weather grey in the briefest of moments.

    It was not long for this crew to prepare a feast. The fish stew was being cooked below by the Creole wife of the skipper. The baby on board was the first to taste this marvelous dinner.  It took the combined skill of everyone.  The life given is a life shared. We were satisfied for the moment.
       We finally saw the outlines of Nuku'Alofa having spent the last few days listening to people arguing about nothing of importance. It was time to get off this floating nightmare   I went for a beer and a goodbye with this fateful crew.

       One of the crew was involved in a project that rendered coconut shells into pure carbon which is valuable to the medical community. It is the perfect filter for kidney dialysis as well as other medical uses that are too numerous to mention in one breath.  Money was going to be made by this Canadian entrepreneur..

      It starts with  a retort oven which burns the shells at a high temperature. Once cooled the shells are ground up into carbon and is the absolute best filter with many applications including water purification. The idea is simple and has immediate rewards for a man with the plan. 

     I wandered into a Peace Corps meeting in town one searing morning looking for shade and a drink of water. I was glad to find Americans in Tonga who shared the same language.  The Tongans dictionary is huge and convaluted. I bought one and kept it for many years before it was stolen 

      I sat in the meeting with them. They were all dressed in white ahirts and ties.  The conversations were about logistics.  These folks dispensed knowledge about how to build things.  Since most of them are volunteers, there is no real motivation to produce anything except more mouths to feed.

      I was a fresh water specialist. Every island sits stop a freshwater lens captured over the eons of passing storms. I was there to set up a drilling operation that would tap in to this valuable resource.   It had been a dream of mine to join the Peace Corps. They lost my application in Washington D.C.  That settled that pursuit to the trash heap. Bah humbug  Back to coconuts.

     The King of Tonga was told that this year was his 25th anniversary of his Coronation.   That news came by way of the New Zealand Consulate. That's the nature of the Tongans. It is always Tonga time here with no thought of the future or the past.  The town became abuzz with activity. Street decorations of palm fronds and gads of tapa cloth being unfurled. The colors all came out in abundance. When the Klaxon sounds you sit down.  The King is passing.
   A Tongan Feast is laid out on a continuous cloth of color with huge stacks of fried fish and an endless variety of coconut creme. This is made for different dishes.  The traditional roast suckling pig wrapped in banana leaves complete with banana leaf plates is roasting in the underground Umu. Don't look for the silverware. Just wash your hands.  This is the Tongan way. You eat with your fingers. Every kind of fruit is available. Huge papayas, passion fruit, bananas of endless variety, sliced and diced to be served by the servants of the King.

     The visiting tourists were summoned to come and be well wishers for the King. I got in the queue and soon was shaking hands with the King. The King even told me he would give me an island if I stayed to open a clinic sponsored by the government.                            

       Grabbing that gold ring is harder than you think. It started me thinking that way though.  Upon returning to Seattle I went to many hospitals asking for used medical equipment to ship to Tonga. They just laughed at me. The logistics are terrible and the shipping is costly.

    My  heart is still in Tonga. I am still sailing in the South Pacific singing sea shanties in the breeze.  Watching the startling sunsets, I am always thinking of returning to these enchanting golden hued islands. You can't relive a dream. You can never go back and find the same kindness you found the first time. You can never go home. Be damned though, I am gonna try.            

      The Peace Corps had an office in Nuku'alofa with about 10 members plus the coordinator. I had applied to the Peace Corps long before in New Orleans to prevent my induction into the armed forces. I had chosen the South Pacific as the region I most desired to work in.  They lost my application in the vast Federal bureaucracy.  Now I was standing before them in the place of my dreams listening to the diatribe of parliamentary procedures of this overbearing bureaucratic organization. It became apparent this would have been a disaster if I was accepted. I was my own Peace Corps. It is called basic human kindness.
    Talikai and Valu hosted me in their little bungalow which also housed 5 children of varying ages that told me that this was a normal family and not one that's ready made.

       Talikai is a Tongan cop. Every night, when he came home announcing, "Everything is OK in Tonga" each night without fail. I was to help Talikai build a second story on the cement building that he owned. This was not an easy project.  All the distractions and other projects Talikai had in mind, quickly exhausted me.   

       At first, I put my efforts into obtaining a shipment of toilet paper for the Church people of Nuku'alofa. This was no easy matter in those days. I found the corporate address. I convinced them to send a shipping container of toilet paper all the way to Tonga. It was done by the Grace of God who likes his people clean and ready to worship.

        One day, I spotted a female Diplomat from England wearing a flimsy see through dress.  She was stunningly beautiful. Roughly 30 years old having the time of her life she was riding a scooter with her dress blowing up. You could not help but stare at her beautiful form. I could smell her pussy as she passed me by onto her next sexual escapade. I was drooling for her.  I would have mounted her dozens of times in my dreams. Alsa she has other blokes on her list. Money and power rule the diplomats. I went back to Talakai and Valu to spy on the young girls while bathing. They never said anything although they were aware of my lusty nature.

    I needed a vacation from this vacation. I started visiting the caves that are little known by visitors.  These caves are astounding when you do find one. The cave I found was an ancient affair.  The roof had caved in many years ago.   A profound event that left just a few curves of the chamber complete with stalactites and a few stalagmites for me to examine and deduce the age of this cave. 

      Life was overwhelming me.. The giant fruit bats inhabited this area. Such a primordial scene, I was waiting for a dinosaur to appear beyond the entrance.  

     Back in the day, these caves were a source of guano from the centuries of roosting bats. This is a substance which is full of phosphorus and potassium as well as other elements essential for the fruiting trees. The Europeans came in droves to collect these ancient piles of bat shit.  Being called bat shit crazy comes from this endeavor. Who knew?
      The Tongan boys are very clever. They build things out of the vegetation using osage oranges for wheels on a toy car. They towed it along trekking to the cave as guides..  

       The ferry to Ewa Island was in the afternoon. I planned to be on it  I was meeting family friends for a picnic on the South Shore of Ewa. How incredibly beautiful were those moments in the bright sun with nothing between you and Antarctica.  Just a stretch of solid cobalt blue waters filled with Blue Whales and Giant Squid.

       We witnessed a sacred ceremony. This involves unearthing of graves of the old people who had come to Ewa for that final rest.   The digging up the bones, cleaning every speck of dirt from them with much wailing, sobbing and gnashing of teeth was a gut wrenching torture of the soul for all the family members.  These last remains were carefully wrapped in a beautiful tapa tied with a ribbon. The family member is returned gently and interred into the ground until the next round of cleansing during Easter Week.

     Standing on the beach and witnessing the double plumes as the blue whales spouted and frolicked before diving deep into the Tonga Trench for food is truly a once in a lifetime occurrence. The green sea turtles were just beginning to emerge from the ocean at dusk to lay clutches of eggs. This has been happening in the same way for eons. 

      The airs were still now. The full moon was rising and the phosphorescence was cresting on the beach in the silvery light. Nothing is so beautiful or as meaningful as a moment in time embossed upon one's memory.
    Ewa is known for the burgundy breasted green parrot. It is theorized that a pair escaped from some passing pirate ship and found refuge here on this tiny Pacific speck. 

        The boys found a pony for me to ride to the other side where the green burgundy parrots gathered to nest.The cliff they came to held an unfinished mansion started by a rich German who escaped the WWII prosecution of Nazis, only to be defeated by old age and disease. 

    I found a young German couple raising families of Burgundy parrots. The cage was huge with over 50 parrots of varying ages, clamoring for attention and food. You can tell the young parrots by the eye color which is yellow and the adults by the brown iris eyes.
    One fine bright afternoon, I made my way to the shore which consisted of a lava wall some twenty feet above the ocean. There is no other way in but to jump feet first into the tumultuous ocean and hope for the best.  Never lead, always follow someone elses' plunge. You are instantly immersed in living artworks of huge proportions. The colors, the fish, the coral, the giant clams clinging to the lava wall are all too beautiful for words.            

     Suddenly you realize you need air and struggle to the surface for a breath. You adjust to this reality.  You begin enjoying the refreshing few minutes before getting nervous about predators.  Real or not, you have alarmed yourself to the point of scrambling onto a wave washed outcropping. You are looking to climb away from this fictitious danger. Your friends are calmly investigating this natural wonderland for anything edible.

     There is one daily ferry to the Island of Ewa.  It is the furthest south one can go before the Antarctica.  The boat ride was filled with many people getting seasick.  You have never really lived until you are on a boat with seasickness.  The stench is horrendous.  Over the bounding Main we plowed on most of the day arriving at the island in the afternoon.  My hosts met the boat. I was greatly relieved.            

        Being welcomed as a family member is quite something in Tonga.  Ewa is the land of the burgundy breasted parrot.  Seamen of old used to sail here to capture these birds.  These birds are some of the most intelligent parrots living one hundred years or more.
     The next day we rounded up the horses and started inland to where the cliffs fall straight into the ocean.  Along the way we passed an abandoned project of a German millionaire escaping the persecution of the Nazis after WW ll.  It has a wonderful view of the ocean.  I heard about a German bakery back in Nuku'alofa. It was managed by ex Nazis trying to live a normal life in Tonga.  I  wondered where these people came from. What was their history during those holocaust years of the Jewish roundup.  Typical of these folks to run and hide. 
      I came across a young German family that had taken it upon themselves to raise these parrots in a huge cage.  The parrots seemed happy.  I am sure they continually thought of flying away though.  I was glad to be there in Tonga and more so, now on the Island of Ewa studying the environment.  It was some of the most peaceful moments I have ever had.   I was away from civilization for over a year in the South Pacific.  

       The way to do this is don't overstay your 3 month visa.  Jump to another country when its time.  I did this from New Zealand to Fiji to Tonga, and finally American Samoa.  Flying back to Seattle in the freezing cold with only the wrinkle free Hawaiian shirt to protect me was harsh.  I  had to find the Love Family and the Front Door Inn. They had invited me to visit Seattle in Hilo.  It was beginning to look like home.

     There is a broad beach that is a Tongan resort of sorts for many people on the south side of Ewa. It is the best beach in Tonga. I met some friends who worked in Hawaii on Waikiki beach. I had been helping to build a pre assembled home for these Tongans.            

     They traveled all the way to Ewa just to see me for one last time. They packed a huge picnic and shared much of their life in Tonga. She worked for a hotel chain in Honolulu and was looking forward to the day she finally come home to her house we built for her. This was her way of thanking me for my help.

    Spending the night one last time on Ewa was interesting. One of the boys brought a .22 rifle. I showed off my marksmanship. This boy took offense and pointed the rifle at me. That was enough.  I was on a plane back to Hawaii having been threatened before by kids.   I certainly did not want this outcome but it was forced upon me by the idiot with the rifle.   It goes to show that when things start to go badly, it is time to get the hell out and do so quickly.  Don't look back.

 

Fijian Waters

       Don and Linda signed me on for the passage to Tonga as the third hand. They would feed me and allow me to stand the third watch. This is misery at its best.  As we were leaving Fiji we had to duck into one of those inlets also called fjords in the north, that serve as a hurricane shelter for yachts like us.  The thing passed north but the seas were tumultuous and unsettled for the last part of the trip.        

     The nights were long and lonely on deck with just the stars to keep one company. You can see the edge of the Milky Way coming up from the ocean provided you get clear nights. It is tilted on its side as we spin in its midsts. You will never get grounded looking at the heavens of because the stars are your guide to safe waters.  Everything is moving away from you in the cosmos. Astronomical theory gets to be overwhelming.

    I witnessed another cruiser reefed down, sailing upwind under the full moon.   She was weathering hard and bucking the giant waves. Her jib was shredded at the edges but she appeared to be surviving alright. There was nothing we could do for her anyway. We had our own problems looming ahead of us.  

     One night, I saw a light rising from the horizon. It climbed higher and higher looking just like a masthead light on a container ship. I got nervous and needed a second opinion so I jumped down and woke Don.  He scrambled up on deck to take a look.  He smiled and said it was Venus rising and went back to the warm rack with Linda by his side. They said the next morning; 'better safe than sorry' and laughed.  I felt inexperienced again.         

     I was amazed at Linda. When she took the helm she really took command of the helm. Steering with her foot and carefully watching through those power sunglasses she always had on. Her seamanship was perfect in every way. She had a good teacher in Don. We trusted each other immensely.
     I always seem to find ferrocement home builds in the blue waters of the world.  These ships are built to withstand almost anything. They are heavy and push back the boarding waves.  For a first ship, ferrocement is a fine choice until something happens you are not prepared for. 

      The only drawback is the sails must always be new.   Blown sails are the worst.   They provide no drive to get you out of tough situations like a grounding. It is easy for sails to develop a blown look and are somewhat concerning to a ships master.   

     Harbors are hard because simply touching another boat means damage. Carry plenty of liability insurance. The best day of your life is when you buy your first boat. The second best day is when you sell it.  Remember sailing is an expensive addiction but worth every penny..
       When I flew into Nandi on the Fijian Island of Viti Levu, I stayed in Ba Town with friends I had met in Canada.  This is an Indian family with deep roots all over the world. They opened their humble house to me and fed me rice and curry each day I was there. I wound up eating a lot of dried peas which is the unique snack food of Fiji. 

    The thing is, nearly everyone will cheat you..... the sword sellers, the taxi drivers, the food stalls-everyone  cheats for a living. 

     There is not a lot to do in these situations except do what everyone else does, drink kava.  Its effect is like Valium. This drink is made from the black pepper plant using the dried roots. The roots are pounded into powder and mixed with plain water until the liquid turns a tawny brown. 

      The kava bowl is a ceremonial vessel on three legs. You generally drink from a halved shell of a coconut. The ritual involves slapping the inner thigh in kind of a clapping sound. This is done three times before the cup is passed to you.

       Daily kava drinkers get the itch on the lower abdomen.  One can scratch himself bloody if not distracted. Kava is kind of like Valium as I said before. It diffuses angry confrontations and enhances social skills, It is welcomed as a peaceful sort of occupation.
        Fijians tend to be hotheads anyway. Guess they learned that from their ancestry. It was not that long ago Fiji was known for cannibalism. The old image of the missionary in the cooking pot comes from Fiji. There are giant forks that were used to eat human flesh. Now these are highly valued as kitchen decorations and conversation pieces.

      Suva is a bustling hub of people with shops on top of shops always open 24/7 just waiting for the big spenders to show up.  I was not one of them, though. I was a half hearted devotee in those days. Wearing Tulasi beads but unable to keep the prerequisites of devotion in place. 

       The wheelbarrow jockeys were muscular and fierce in their approach to work.  In the afternoons when it got really uncomfortable, fights would break out with these fellas.  These were not the usual city scuffles but a fight for the other guys throat.  Vicious and bloody.  Many fellas went home with new cuts and bruises each day. 

    I left Ba town and caught the ferry to Vanua Levu which is the larger island.  The northern coast is astoundingly beautiful in that tropical charming way.  I stayed in the seaside village of Matani Wai outside of Lambasa.  So many things happened to me while there. The most memorable was spearfishing on the reef with the fellas.  

      They all look dangerous and threatening until you befriend them. I did this by offering them the use of my collection of swim googles. Unless you have eye protection the salt water makes opening your eyes underwater painful.  They were thrilled by this new toy of good eye sight.            

      Instant friendship is hard to come by so I made the best of it.  I would go out to the reef with them but I stayed in the boat.  There was a small island called Sou Sou nearby so I started for it hoping to find coconuts or papayas.  I came upon the perfect scene of a papaya growing beneath coconut palms...there was even a pole to knock down the fruit.  The shallow pit was covered in palm leaves.  Not really paying attention, I stepped onto these fronds.  I felt something moving beside my foot.  Rather than debate what it was I leapt out of this situation.  

      I had been standing on a pit of vipers.  The deadly black and white sea snakes were in this pit.  It seems  the snakes crawl out of the ocean during the day to rest for their night forays in the sea.  These snakes have tiny mouths so unless they bite you on the small toe you are generally safe. I did not hang around Sou Sou any longer.  I made it back to the boat and waited for the fellas.  They soon showed up with a magnificent string of surgeon fish.  

   Astonished, I asked how they did this.  Seems that the had spotted this school running to hide in the hollow center of a coral head.   They simply surrounded it and shot their spears through the little holes.  The sea turned red.  Soon sharks appeared. After collecting their fish they left a few for the sharks.  Fish soup was delicious that evening.

    In the mornings, I'd line up the injured children treating each wound as best as I could.  They enjoyed the attention and the care I gave them.

      There was a 3 year old girl  riddled with staph.   I made a special trip to the Chemist also known as the pharmacist.  I bought a tube of triple antibiotic for 7 dollars.  Her grandfather was holding her while I dabbled the ointment on her trembling little body.  She cried and whimpered. Really scared of this white man touching her.  When done, I told them to put her to bed and let her sleep. Amazing how fast those sores healed on a young body. Just a few hours rest and she awoke with no pain. The sores were gone.  I became the miracle healer.  

      They brought a baby to me.  His legs were covered with infected mosquito bites..  All I had was Hydrogen Peroxide which did not go far enough.  I made them get on the bus to the hospital in town. These rural hospitals are always filled to the max. I finally cornered a doctor and introduced the baby to her.  Her face immediately whitened. Infection moves through the body rapidly.  There was no time to lose.  She immediately started an IV drip of antibiotics.  A few hours later she came out of her office and thanked me for saving this baby.

     Those happy moments didn't last long though. Someone stole the $50 dollar bill from my passport as I slept. I always keep emergency escape money just in case of trouble. It was time to move on anyway.   The chief of the village also had staph on his feet.  I made him go to the hospital since Fijians get free healthcare.

        I said goodbye then and there. That's when I met this woman wearing a scarf on her hand except there was no hand.  I asked about how she lost it.  She said her husband attacked her in a drunken rage . After the hand, the next blow was directed to her skull. She raised her other hand and ght the blade of the machete which slashed the palm . He broke off the attack and fell asleep. She saved herself by finding someone who would help her in the dark. Domestic violence is everywhere. We just don't see it.
        Another  young woman I met who was interested in my interests in all things South Pacific took me to the outer islands where the people still live in the old style with nothing modern. These villagers still communicate with the slit drum to call town meetings. Now it it used for church services instead of the bell. This memory has stayed with me intact. 

       The native approaches the hollow log. He then begins hammering out the syncopated rhythms first to wake the village and secondly to call everyone to the church meeting.   Everyone is Methodist in Fiji. You will fit right in. The singing was spot on and so moving because everyone is taught to vocalize at an early age.
      My goal was the Yasawa Islands that never happened because I was running out of time. My three month visa was nearly up. These islands are the most beautiful in the world so missing the Yasawas was a poignant moment for me.   

    I also toured the village of Nag which means cobra. There is a Hindi temple that worships a stone emerging from the ground shaped like a cobra.  At night, they scrape the soil away to reveal more and more of this stone. All of these temples function on donations so anything to enhance the legend might bring in more money. 

    The other legend is a tunnel that runs all the way from India to the Fijian islands.  I got the feeling there was a lie being told by someone. It was another preposterous story to be disproved or embraced by the followers.
       I was hiking around in the harsh keawe brush when I was approached by a warrior looking guy with the giant bushy Afro and a spear. He told me he did not know whether to run me through or offer me a cup of tea. I am glad he choose the latter. 

      He took me to a few caves in the area which was quite the adventure. Lighted by a torch, we made our way down into the earth to see some old images painted eons ago. The torch died and we made our way back by groping along in the pitch black.

       In my travels in Fiji, I went to the land of the floating earth. It is remarkable to walk on the spongy surface of these floating islands.  I stayed a night with some blokes in a cabin. Funny how masterbation helps them to sleep. You sleep on the dirt floor and do your daily business in the woods. I felt right at home.
   I went back to Suva and the largest public swimming pool in the South Pacific.  This became my passion for the rest of my stay.  Suddenly, I got word there was a coup de tat under way in the capital of Suva. Things changed rapidly.   

      There were Fijian soldiers cruising the streets in jeeps now.  The Fijians had had enough from the Indians taking over the government. I was still making my way to the pool daily to swim in that huge public tank. I was seeing fewer and fewer white tourists. One never imagines being in the middle of a government takeover but that was exactly what was taking place.         

      Thank God it was a bloodless one. Please recall that all Fijians are Methodists and most Indians are Hindu. Fijians descended from the Oceanic Negroes long ago.They are called Melanesians who possess the distinctive features of African blacks including the kinky hair and large facial features. They tend to be huge individuals. This is the English calling the black native something other than black. Melanin is the skin pigment that turns the skin brown after a sunburn.          

      Fijians are pleasant for the most part, until pushed. Many times, I witnessed bloody fistfights at the docks where the wheelbarrow is still used to transport goods to the warehouse by muscular boys. The heat of the day brings out the worst in these overworked young guys. 

      The dividing line is apparently Tonga that seperates the Melanesians and the Polynesians.  Having kinky hair in Tonga is a social disgrace.
    I actually saw Brian's ship at the loading dock. Lori and I quit that boat in American Samoa some months ago. Here he was again like a bad penny you just never can lose that always returns to haunt you.  I was glad to see that he made it to safer waters. Too much testosterone is what is wrong with Brian. One must get that poison out periodically.
    It was soon time to fly away. I came back to the International Airport at Nandi a day before, just to make sure I showed up at the right place at the right time. I was flying on a non refundable ticket. 

    I had to camp for the night so I chose the uninhabited beach.  Like the big cat that I am, I strung my hammock in the highest branches of the African Tulip tree. My gear was hung close by. It looked funny as it twisted in the breeze. This was the best of the best because I was above the deadly hoards of mosquitoes.  

   Always travel with a mosquito net in the tropics. Dengue Fever is a very real thing with no cure. The sunsets were the best I've ever seen.   It is only comparable to Tonga in its color intensity. It is something you never forget no matter what latitude you hail from.
    My last memory before boarding the jet was having lunch at the airport. It is a simple food the people of the South Pacific eat. It is called manioc or cassava by some. It is a tuber and very fast to grow. It is full of iron so it rebuilds the blood especially during the women's time. You will see it served in the homes and villages all over the world.

     If you don't get enough iron, you begin to itch very badly. The same is true with Iodine. So eat your fish and red meat. Plenty of fruits and vegetables will help you defeat any illness. Travel while you are young. 

Life on Palmyra Atoll

      Upon leaving the the sanctuary of Keehi lagoon we ventured into the mighty Pacific on board a sail driven vessel with no name. Due south was the course for Palmyra Atoll. 180 degrees for three weeks was almost tolerable.

     Not long after leaving Keehi Lagoon, we thought we could relax a little. That however, was not the case. I saw it first. It was just a smudge on the horizon. The image was coming on fast. It was a nuclear sub.  Brian delayed changing course saying we had the right of way. Not in this case. It suddenly was on us. We just barely missed a swamping in its wake. Welcome to the open Pacific.     

    The problem was the engine would not start. Brian was baffled.  I said it is usually the electrical connections. He jiggled the wires to the battery and sure enough, the engine sprang to life. Laurie put the helm over in the nick of time. We were nearly swamped by the tremendous wake this vessel threw up. 

      All I could see in the aftermath of this event, were the dead fish that could not get out of the way. The skipper of the sub gave us one of those WTF looks as he raged on with no clear destination with the skippers hat pulled down to his ears.   You might remember the Japanese fishing vessel that was struck by a sub practicing rapid surfacing. Quite a few kids drowned that day. It was our lucky day not to drown.

        Palmyra Atoll was our first stop on the magnificent tour of the South Pacific. Just keep 'er pointed 180 degrees due south said the drunken skipper. After 21 days at sea we traveled the thousand miles making landfall at dusk. Our rate of travel was sometimes, 200 miles per day at 7 knots. Sometimes it was slower, especially crossing the Horse Latitudes which left us becalmed for days. We motored for a few hours each day in these latitudes looking for that squall to drive us a few more minutes south.

     Finally, we were overtaken. The squall slowly approached the ship.  Imagine the glassy waters instantly turning into a frothing monster with huge, pelting raindrops pounding you into submission.    The rain marched up to us in a distinct wall of water. We gathered our wits and got the soap out. We instantly lathered up for this unique cold shower which took days to plan.     

     After proper positioning of the sails to refill our water tanks at the goose neck, we motored on. We were finally able to clear these doldrums and continue on to Palmyra with the mercy of heaven and favorable winds. This was the first of three events that enthralled us.
      The second being at the absolute deepest point of the Pacific except for the Marianas Trench and the Tonga Trench, this happened....   In his haste to hoist the mainsail after the doldrums the skipper left his homemade winch handle in the winch. It shook loose as the vessel rocked to and fro. It fell overboard after striking the deck one time thus setting it to wildly vibrate. As it entered the water it threw up those tiny vibration splashes. As it plummeted to the bottom of the briny deep roughly 5 miles down. In a daze Brian realized his mistake.  Stopping to reflect on this great distance I remarked that it probably was still vibrating when it finally landed in the soft sands of the Pacific Ocean.  Davy Jone's locker just got heavier.  Luckily, we had a spare.

       The third amazing thing that happened while standing watch at 3 am was an unusual boarding. The ship was plowing through heavy seas. Out of the darkness there appeared a fleet of projectiles headed directly for the vessel barely visible under the spreader lights. Increasingly larger they sailed over the deck right in front of my face. Flying fish as big as mackerels in a school of air born frenzy  swarming the ship. These fish were wild eyed and sparkly as their great orbs peered into the mine. For just a few seconds the amazement of both parties was palpable as the fish hung in the air. The ones that were tangled up in the rigging turned into breakfast for the crew. 

       We were refreshed and ready now for Palmyra. At first, the islands appeared as a dark smudge on the horizon that continually grew larger.  I sang out land ho and pointed. The ecstasy was nice.  However, Lorie was not ready to give sex to the crew.

     Darkness caused us to anchor for the night outside the channel that was created during World War II. With the island rangefinder still intact we waited until the sun was high and behind us to begin the treacherous navigation of the coral filled channel to the safety of the inner lagoon.  I was at the bow on the lookout for gigantic coral heads as big as houses.  This is like flying blind with about a 90% chance of making it without a grounding.  We lined up the range finder as best we could and began motoring in. After a few nautical miles of this we arrived at the anchorage and were surprised by the number of vessels already there.

        We threw the hook over and launched the dinghy for a row around the lagoon showing our friendly selves to the locals. The first thing to happen was the shark following the dinghy. I was leaning back with my hands on the transom close to the water when Brian said 'better pull your hands in' and laughed that laugh of a diabolical joke. I could have lost my hand or worse.                      Welcome to Palmyra and glad to be free of the tumultuous Pacific. We relaxed at the thought of three weeks here.  Afterwards, we landed at the boat launch that was created by the Seabees Construction Brigade. We met the old salts who had been at this particular spot for some time. 'Palmyra Yacht Club' was stocked with enough powdered Margarita Mix to open a bar. Some sailor left it here for all to use. Sailors are such optimists. The shark jaws hanging in this hut were huge. They become larger as you drink.
  Thats when I saw my first coconut crab. These critters are as big as the legend. Their claws are huge. The actually climb the coconut tree and cut the stalks with these giant pincers. They move at night so you can't really see them during the day. If you use your flashlight it will reflect off their retinas. Don't be too afraid of them. They are eaten for protein and are scarce now.

     These sailing sojourners had just gathered mussels for dinner. These mussels had been growing a long time for they were as big as dinner plates.  Along with other sea creatures that were caught made for a delightful stew of huge proportions. The beach barbecue was a Palmyra tradition. One of these fantastic mornings,  I chose to launch myself off the ship's spreaders.  It was a spontaneous thing and somewhat idiotic. I climbed up to the spreaders to survey the island. Rather than climbing down I chose to step into oblivion with a swan dive. However I failed to plan well by using the 6 p's for any venture.                 Thinking back, I should have rocked the boat before launching myself.  I pushed off with sufficient force. The boat gave way and I was headed for a close brush with the side of the ship. I missed the hull by mere inches. All's well that ends well.
  I threw out my line with a hand tied fly hoping to catch an edible species. Something grabbed my lure and I was dragged around the lagoon until the hook straightened and let go with a surge that almost threw me overboard. This is why man fishes. It is the possibility of catching an unseen monster. I was probably a shark of some size. I was actually very glad to have lost this fish.

        Our drunken skipper offered everyone a chance to go spearfishing with him since he had scuba gear.  Many took him up on this.  He actually brought in a huge parrot fish which was subsequently barbecued on the beach.  I declined to go simply because I was still recovering from seasickness which makes you dehydrated. Lucky thing too, because everyone at the barbecue came down with cigutaria which is caused by a poisoned reef fish which the Parrot fish is. Over the eons the coral had developed this protection for itself from these fish by emitting poison which does not actually deter these fish but builds up in their tissue. Such is the fate of the unstudied forager. It takes about three days of bed rest and plenty of fresh water to overcome the malaise of poisoning. It really hurts because your whole nervous system is effected. I became the nurse maid for everyone who ate from this fish. I was secretly smiling though.
    By now, we had gathered information about the fresh water tank which is why Palmyra is such a haven for yachtsmen. This is a huge catchment of millions gallons.  Always full and constantly leaking this reservoir is the temple for all South Pacific sailors. Fresh water showers are one of the most valued moments for sailors. We immediately plunged into the hard work of filling our water tanks on board the 64' sloop. You never know when you will drink your last drop. We were down to our last gallon of rusty drinking water when we spied our landfall even after filling the tanks in the squalls. The joy is overwhelming to find water in abundance when you are at sea.
  Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.The 6 P's of sailing were seldom followed by this skipper. On the first night we were awakened by the tink tink tink of the hull striking the coral wall. We had dragged anchor. Instead of diving on the hook to check the set as all good seamen do when in a new anchorage we neglected this. Brian did not attend to his duties.  The South Pacific can be kind at times. This was one of them. On a subsequent night one of the skippers came roaring up in his zodiac with news of a significant earthquake in Alaska. Tsunami warning!  It turned out to be a false alarm. There was definitely a shortage of excitement on Palmyra so any news or paranoia must be shared.

       The Frenchmen came limping in at sunset. Their sails were blown by boarding seas and most of their gear was spoiled. They were in bad shape. They also had on board a wine cellar with some of the best wines from Marseilles. After hearing of this, finding a sewing machine was easy and enough manpower to overhaul their yacht were found ready and willing to apply skill to the problem.
     Soon after another ship appeared outside the channel calling for a dinghy to lead them in.   It seems that they allowed the sole chart to blow overboard while the 6 crewmen were all standing around it with nothing in their hand or heads either we were soon to find out. The skipper was a Korean War hero who managed to kill 7 North Koreans with a camp shovel. This was amazing in itself. The rest of the crew had different stories. None of which turned out to be true. These men were mostly criminals escaping to the new wonder of Australia. 

      If you don't know Australia was created as a prison colony back in the daya of colonization. The ills of this crew were ulcers and boils that all needed medical attention. The next ship in was skippered by an French MD, his wife and kids all crammed into a 27' Cheoy Lee.  His services were badly needed by everyone.

     There was another French couple that were just married in Paris and sought the warmth of the South Pacific as a way to set themselves up in life. After all a good travel story is the source of the party in France. I asked for and got a haircut from this beautiful Parisian girl.  Her husband was never a few steps away though.

     The lagoon is filled with black and white tipped sharks which made for hazardous swimming. During the heat of the day they migrate to the bottom of the lagoon. The big bulls are outside of this lagoon.  Lorie found out the hard way one day diving with the sailors on the disabled yacht from Marseilles. It is a pretty funny story...as they came flying up from the bottom with the bull chasing them.   Less than 3 mm of rubber between you and certain death.   It is a long way from home to have the sails blow out. These guys were lucky to have limped in for repairs. Lorie was the only single girl for thousands of miles. Her dance card was full.  Such is the charmed life of a world class gypsy.

     Taking a hike around the island brought breathtaking vistas both above and below the surface of the waters. Standing on the bank of the channel and looking underwater with a face mask was quite astonishing.  Herds of Buffalo fish were charging through the vast underwater valleys of coral. Great Whites were cruising for scraps of food. They were lazily picking and choosing as if at a gigantic buffet table. The Tangs were like a subway crowd moving in unison and making way for the larger species.  The colors are extraordinary hues of pastels of yellows, greens and reds all sunlit and beamed with streaks of light. You find yourself participating in this web of life simply as a momentary witness of the sanctity.  Suddenly the bull shark saw me and made a charge. I stepped back from this attack.  He was out of his element.

     Army and Navy are two dogs stranded by sailors on Palmyra Atoll. The adaptation of  these dogs is astounding. The sailor dogs hunted juvenile sharks by standing in the clear shallows using those skinny dog leg to attract the juveniles then waiting until they got close enough to bite the dorsal and throw the victim onshore. Opening coconuts with their teeth was another skill of adaption that amazed us. Their teeth are worn down and sorely in need of dentistry.  The coconut crabs are huge with the carapace being over a foot long. The bonefish in the central lagoon are the biggest I have ever seen and are easily hooked. Thus the need is to protect these islands by the Nature Conservancy. They bought the islands and have set up a sanctuary for all the inhabitants. You need special permission to visit these days. I heard that the State of Hawaii now oversees them and the coast guard patrols regularly to keep the odd seaman off its shores.

       On the beaches one sees the huge piles of plastic garbage mercifully deteriorating in the bright ultraviolet light. The fairy terns are always hovering overhead.  Never having seen anything like you before one can reach up and the tiny thing will land on your finger. Further down the beach and on the north side of the island is the great history of the war years memorialized in the pillboxes and wrecked planes slowly being reclaimed by nature.

There is a troubling dark side to the history of Palmyra. You can read about it in the old newspapers of Honolulu. It is a murder story of some consequence.  I won't go into detail here.

     As is the pastime of South Sea sailors retiring to the shaded cockpit for a Mai Tai or something more dramatic is something everyone relishes. As if on cue a ten foot Manta explodes into the air right off the stern either seeking to engorge himself on bait or simply shake off some parasites. With a great whoosh  he plunges into the slowly darkening depths.  Either way it felt good to see these creatures at play getting ready for the long night ahead when the krill start making their way to the surface. Let the feedings begin.
   As with every sunset in the South Pacific, if you don't find a seat facing west then you've lost the most entertaining part of your day. Your mind will rebel and your eyes won't work if you miss the one exciting moment of nature's finest display.

        The days of glorious, fiery sunsets will forever be imprinted in your noggin for you to enjoy for a long time to come. We were once at a lecture in Arcata California about delivering boats to their new owners with a hired crew. Refitting the vessel at sea while under way is challenging and death defying for a delivery crew. The remarkable thing about this slide show was after the first couple of slides about the ship and crew all the rest were increasingly picture perfect sunsets that were masterfully artistic visions of warmth comforting to everyone who were so enthralled. Being bound by the cold grip of winter this was the most refreshing thing any skipper could have done for his audience.

The Horse Latitudes

      As we crossed into the region known as the Horse Latitudes we watched the thunderheads rising high in the quickly heating atmosphere way above the 30 thousand feet of the normal thunderheads over land. The clouds tumbled upward until reaching the colder climes of the upper airs whereupon these beasts would anvil out in a show of royal beauty. 

        It was not long before the chilling air reached down the cloud causing the whole side of this spectacular mass to collapse with the sides collapsing first showing us the elegance of nature in the form of huge raindrops that gathered speed as they fell towards the ocean. The release of energy rivals any other weather formation. When hit by these massive drops of water you really get stung by the size and coldness of these massive spheres.
    We crossed these latitudes using the iron sail.  Looking out over the bright sea towards our destination, I spied a native carrying a telescope as if he were guiding us or simply watching out for us. These images in the clouds are a constant occurrence for me. To see this image was a reassurance and increased my confidence in my travel southward.  There were others who came to see the Golden One as we closed with the islands.   A young chieftain with with feathers in his hair made an appearance in my mind. Who knows who he was?  A stoner perhaps. A Tahitian prince by the way he dressed.
     Nothing pleases a skipper more than fair winds. We were becalmed until the winds began again.  It took many days to cross this sea.  We had food but water was disappearing.        

     The Spanish named this region the Horse Latitudes.  When food and water ran low the horses died were eaten or pitched overboard.  God bless the horses.

     Plan well if you dare to cross this region.  We were finally on our way again.  The breeze picking up and everyone is relaxed again.

       For most of the journey, I had the third watch which means I had to sleep during the day.   I arose an hour or so before my shift to feed the needs of the body.  Gone were the hot showers of the shore.   After three days you start to stink so saltwater baths on the fore deck were the norm. Brian hated to bathe in salt water and hated my fastidiousness. He stayed drunk most of the time when he was off duty.  Lori and him would start drinking Popov vodka until they fell asleep. I was alone with the ocean and the sky for my friend.
       One becomes a cloud watcher. These amazing weather formations are the most spectacular on earth. There is nothing but the sea and atmosphere to generate the most beautiful of all creation. Then, as if by magic they become pastel as the sun sets. These riots of color explode in your eyes with each one being better than the last.     I once saw a slide show in Arcata California. It was nothing but South Pacific sunsets.  I believe this is what subconsciously made me want to trip to the South Pacific.                 There are many reasons to go there. Getting away from society is the popular reason for many sailors.  The Brits always thought of the sea as home where you are welcome to survive.  You must love the ocean.

       Each evening, in the sweltering heat the sun plunged into the sea in a fiery show of pastels and flame.  These sunset moments have special meaning for the crew of any sailboat. The impending darkness is relentless.  Preparing the ship for night was something to be enjoyed.

     The night brings interesting heavenly things. Each and every star that make an appearance is important to notice for it reassures you of your direction on the vast ocean.   Once you see them it becomes so wonderful. Many times passing clouds obscure the sky. There is always one or two that remain visible unless there is a storm brewing. You simply wait for it to pass before continuing on your merry way.  Yes you will survive and be the better for it.  The most amazing sight is the Milky Way tilted on edge.  One can see the whole thing on clear nights.
           Many a seaman has been swept overboard by boarding seas while taking a piss off the taff rail. The higher the deck from the water the less chance for this to ever happen. The ship must be well planned. Tested and tested again for seaworthiness assures safety. Every thing is important to notice and check.   Rotten through hull fittings are oftentimes the problem for many ship sinkings at sea. The head is particularly dangerous.  If someone forgets to close the valve the vessel will fill up with water.  Rust never sleeps and corrosion happens where it should not. Galvanic action is usually the culprit.

     The lesson is to keep your zincs in good standing as these sacrificial anodes keep the ship safe from galvanic action which is the scientific term for corrosion.
     As darkness reigns the sea comes alive.  The small fry rise to the surface to feed on plankton.  In turn, the predators come to feed on the fry.   The flying fish take to the air to confuse predators which is one of the most remarkable evolutionary adaptations ever to develop.  These bullet headed bombs of the night come streaming over the rails attracted by the spreader lights, wide eyed and wildly menacing in every aspect.  Some are over three feet in length.   If they ever strike you there will be serious damage. Many crash land on deck.  They make a wonderful addition to breakfast.
    The winds pick up and the ocean becomes a riot of countering seas with huge peaks and valleys especially during knarly squalls. The slap of the waves on the side of the ship moves her slightly. This is why the helm must be tended most of the time because things will happen. 

    The wind vane is a good thing until it goes out of sync and needs adjusting.  Murphy's law has yet to be repealed. If you snooze you lose so take frequent naps.    Don't become too comfortable at sea. She is a mighty mistress and a deadly lover.

      When you cross into these latitudes it's like entering another country. The differences are profound and sometimes troubling. You are now relying on the engine. The quiet of sailing is replaced with the sickening smells of diesel and raucous sounds of the mechanical engine.

      Even that scarcely compares with the heat that the engine generates.  Venturing down below in this heat is astounding and never pleasant.  I resorted to sleeping, eating and relaxing on the fore deck in the shade of the mainsail. 

      The tantalizing puffs of air only made you long for the end to this torture.  Many times I wanted to stop and swim.   Brian would have none of it. He was so paranoid because when he left Canadian waters he ran into a storm. For three days the storm ravaged the boat. He lashed the helm and turned donuts in the sea until he was finally released from this ordeal.  It takes a long time to get over the troubles in sailing.

The Monolithic Pacific

    The sun glimmers on the ocean as she fastens the leash to her ankle. Looking out over the vast blue, her eyes lock on to the swells breaking on the reef offshore. Without hesitation she steps off the twenty feet of lava outcropping into the warm surrender of ocean spirits.            

        Completely immersed in this revelry, she begins the long paddle to the breakers. Glancing around she notices the water droplets catching the sunlight turning into micro rainbows as she digs deeper into the vast blue of the moment.
    Her shoulders ripple with the years of effortless swimming.  She shows no fatigue. The fins of friends slash on by. The dolphin family has once again joined her at their favorite play spot. They circle the island monthly in search of the watery playgrounds yet to be discovered.

       Our Lady of the Ocean is now content as she waits for the pulse to become stronger until she is lifted unrelentingly to begin the downward slide. Breathlessly, she breathes in. She steps forward to control her descent and jockeys for the best possible position as the curl creates an umbrella that momentarily blocks the sun as it caresses her form.

        The dolphins shadow her trail for they love a beautiful creature doing beautiful things as much as anyone. She surrenders once again to complete immersion as the ride ends in the backward fall, her eyes never leaving her board.

    Effortlessly, she turns to face the next wave and submerges into the briny blue few know. With a casual flick of her head she throws a rainbow of light as her hair falls onto her back.  The merciful Ocean has once again become tranquil as Our Lady begins to paddle into the oncoming surf.  

Goin' South

         The best move anyone in North America can make is to go South.  It doesn't take a scientist to realize the tropics are the most survivable region of the world.  One problem though. Everyone has the same idea. The tropics are crowded so finding a place to chill can be difficult. It is important to do basic research before making this leap of faiith. I just don't understand why people cling to their northern latitudes for their whole lives.
   My trick was to prowl the transit docks and marinas looking for a ship that needs crew. You can always post a note on the free bulletin boards asking for passage. The lonesome skippers read these things.  Your deal will be passage for work aboard the ship.  No one rides for free unless you are pretty.   Even that does not win your passage.        You could pay your way on board but once you bring money to the table, things get dicey unless you have chosen a Christian skipper who does not drink. You will lose most of your money to the skipper. Work at sea is hardly work. Be prepared for a great, boring time. Find a good novel to keep you company. No one else will.

     Living on the ship is like camping on your roof. You are subject to every change in barometric pressure. Always be wary of a falling barometer. It is the first indication you are entering troubled waters. A rising barometer means higher atmospheric pressure thus fair weather. 

      There are other telltale signs you already know."Red sky at night sailors delight, Red sky in morning sailors take warning.'  If you really want the truth, stick your head out the main hatch and have a look. No torture lasts forever. I can think, I can fast, I can wait. Gautama said that....
   I showed up in Honolulu in the dead of winter.  Fortunately, I am flexible enough in my beliefs about God to attempt to live with the Devotees.  Never easy to have someone waiting to be initiated eating the food and taking up bathroom time.  

    I was heading south.  I learned to sail on the sunset cruises of the Jaladuta.  I honed my skills with the crew waiting for that fateful phone call. 

    It was Brian the Canadian asking me to show up at the transit docks to see if I 'qualify' to sail with him. Ke'ehi lagoon is about the worst anchorage in the world.  You are at the end of the runway of the International Airport where the carbon from the jet fuel falls like snow upon the decks of these ships waiting for Spring.  

     The filth is incredible. This is all very depressing for these blue water men.  They go ashore to eat and get drunk so they can sleep while on board. There is a beach called Sandal Beach. There are huge mounds of flip flops piled high that float in from everywhere. Colorful but trashy much like the girls on Hotel St.
     Honolulu is crowded to begin with. You must be able to dodge the derelicts who haunt downtown and move with determination to survive. Standing on the curb with your shoulder purse is asking for trouble.  There are thieves on scooters who whiz by and hook the shoulder strap. Just hope it breaks or you will be dragged to your death or at the very least bruised and battered.  The cops? None to be found. You are lucky if someone even helps you up.
        They finally drained the Ala Moana Canal so the dozer could push all that debris to the end where it could be loaded into dump trucks for the land fill.  This canal has a huge history as a dump for murder weapons. I wonder if they even thought about solving crimes with all those guns they found.  Knowing Hawaii, probably not.  

        Divers found a huge dump of barrels full of bottom paint.  This stuff is so toxic it could have changed the ecology of Hawaii. Gratefully, none of them were broken. Burning only releases mercury to fall on the ocean and kill more wildlife.  The lead based paint indicates how those war years changed the planet.   

     Lead in paint effects people.  Children growing up moving into old rentals that needed painting..  It fell to the young to paint the kitchens with lead based paint. It affects the nervous system and made one short tempered. They found a way to Chelate it out of the system.... It takes years to recover.    

      Nature is still erasing that legacy. Speaking of Mercury, I heard this story about soldiers pouring the stuff down the tarmac drains just to hide it from the Japs. After the war, salvagers went back and discovered a treasure trove of this metal. There are still pockets of mercury under these staging areas.
       The Grey Goose was built from the money from this Mercury when they dismantled those areas.  It was sold for a very low price. Mercury was used in bombs as part of the trigger mechanism. Mercury is still used in light switches in homes. 
      There are vast deserts on the Ocean.  For many days, we did not see anything living or dead.  No seaweed, no fish, no sharks nothing...A desert like this should have a story about how it formed.  The only one that made any sense is volcanic activity releasing huge plumes of CO2 through the water thus stripping the oxygen dissolved in the ocean that sea life needs to survive.        

      Man has a great impact on the 7 seas.  Over fishing is just one of them. There might be other things that formed these ocean deserts. More research is needed. More ocean chemistry done in the interest of science.  The mystery continues to Nowhere Soon.