Where are Shawn and Chris?

Mum's Visit: Around the Big Island by Land

2012-01-30T10:09:00.000-08:00

Maps of the Big Island of Hawai'i’s 9 districts and 5 volcanoes for orientation of our recent adventures

2012 cameroaring in and January got busy quickly when Judy, Shawn’s Mum, landed in Kona on January5th for a week-long visit. It was her first trip to Hawaii and it was veryspecial for us that she made the journey half way around the world. While she was here, wepacked in a ton of visiting and touring in order to catch up and introduce her to theBig Island. We greeted her at the airport with a real flower lei (Shawn hadpolled the few people she could find that knew about their Hawaiian meaning and the oneshe had chosen meant “good luck”) as Hawaiian welcome, picked up her rental car, andgot her settled into a recently renovated room at the Kona Islander Inn. TheInn was great but had a lack of parking so for the week we became a 2-carfamily, and Shawn the rental car chauffer. We started off slowly the next morning going outto brunch and then back to Tao to determine if Judy’s new hip would allow her toclimb aboard while Med-tied. After finding that she had little problem clamberingaboard, we hiked to the nearby Kaloko-Honokohau State Park in search of turtles and petroglyphs and what we found was our first Nene, the worlds rarest goose (sorry no pictures).

Saturdaymorning we went out for a bittersweet sail; it was Tao’s first outing of 2012, the firsttime Judy had been out on Tao and the last time for all of us before ourJanuary 19th planned haul-out, and possibly Grizzly’s last sail on Tao. It was a typicalday on the Kona coast, light breeze under 10-knots and sunny with haze covering most of Hualalai Volcano, towering above Kona but usually hidden in vog from faraway Kilauea. The sail was mellowand idyllic; Mum chased the spots of sun around the cockpit as we changedpoints of sail, and we had a smooth entry back into the dock just in time tocatch a beautiful vog-induced red sunset. Sunday morning Shawn taught a doubleat Bikram Yoga Kona, so Judy explored the bustling market on her own. That afternoon we allthree drove down to the South Kona District to Hookena Beach- our first time via land. Though wewere hoping that it might be mellow and were imagining swimming and snorkeling,it turned out to be one of the busy days- the last day of Holiday break before kids headed backto school. So instead, we enjoyed people watching as families swarmed the beach and skim-boarding youth covered the waves crashing onto the shore. After enjoying lunch in the sun and stoppingby to say hello to our friends at Hale Kai, we continued back toward Kona,stopping at Honaunau, a national park known historically as a “place of refuge.” With no patch of sand large enoughfor Tao to anchor in its bay, this was a site that we had not previously explored and once there, it was easy to imagine the area filled with bustling life of the Ancient Hawaiians.

Monday was abig day of touring and the weather held beautifully. We started early to drivearound the south point of the island, and spent all morning in the southeastern Ka'u District. First we stopped in Na’alehu for breakfast at a diner called Hana Hou and found great food in the middle of nowhere- we highly recommendthe Dragon’s Brew coffee and a stop here for some local flavor. Next stop was the Punalu’u Black Sand Beach, one of the few truly black sand beachesaround and though the water looked cold and uninviting for a swim, it was filledwith not-so-elusive green sea turtles. We continued on to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park and first, watched Kilauea from the Jaggar Museum overlook, then, took a hike through ThurstonLava Tube which culminated with views of the Kilauea Iki Crater, and finally, we stopped at the Volcano Art Museum. Onward still, we continued north along the eastern side ofthe island to Lava Tree State Park in the Puna District of the island where wesaw very obvious vertical hollow lava tubes, the remnants of a fast moving lava flow that had covered a stand of wet 'Ohi'a trees (its red lehua blossoms are the official flower of the Big Island). From here we were quite close to Kalapana, the townthe Chain of Craters road connected to before being covered with lava in the early 1980's. To quench our interest, we visited Kalapana, the other side of the “recent” lava field where several structures had been spared by previous flows, and others were not so lucky… Finally, we made it to Hilo, but sunset was drawing near and we hoped toget back to Kona via the infamous Saddle Road. Therefore, we didn’t have time to see much morethan the amazing trees along Banyan Drive and Rainbow Falls. It wasworth hurrying, however, because the weather was so clear going over the Saddle Road, that we were able to see thesummits of both Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa as we crested the saddle at sunset. On our way back down the other side, after breaking through a nerve wracking half hour of fog, we were back in Konaand tired but happy after a very full day of sight-seeing.

OnTuesday we relaxed by enjoying the busy beaches near Kona, swimming in the Pacific Ocean, consuming a delicious dinner at Jackie Rey’s, and sharing a soak in the Islander Inn jacuzzi. Wednesday we motivated for anotherbig car tour, this time covering the north end of the island through the Hamakua, Kohala and North Kona Districts. We took hwy-190, the “high road” to Waimea, gaping at its impressive views of the Kawaihae Bay, Kohala Coast, and across the channel to Maui along the way. From Waimea, we continued on to the Hamakua District and the southernoverlook of Waipio Valley, where we happened upon a group of students chantingin Hawaiian while overlooking this amazing area. Listening to their rhythmic sounds was a surreal welcome to the location of the valley that housed the early Hawaiian royalty. After winding our way along the “old highway” back to Waimea, we drove up and over the Kohala Mountains, taking a very nice unplanned coffee stop at Toni and Ty’s old sugarplantation home. We continued on to view Waipio Valley again, this time from the northern overlook just outside of the little town of Hawi. Aftervisiting several artsy stores in the North Kohala District, we drove to the tiny Upolu Airport at the northernmost tip of the island and head of theAlenuihaha Channel (we always listen for NOAA weather data from here). While overlooking the channel toward Maui, we were lucky to spot humpback whale tails flapping far below.Farther south we stopped at Nishimura Bay/Mahukona, then Kawaihae Harbor, and finallyAnaehoomalu Bay (called A-Bay even by locals) to watch yet another beautiful sunset.

Overall, wedrove more than 650-miles through all 9 districts of the Big Island and enjoyed beautiful sunny conditions for viewing all sorts of natural wonders including each of the 5 volcanoes in their differing geologic stages. It was alot of car time, but it was fun to have Chris in the back seat playing tour guide by reading interesting information aloud from our “Big Island Revealed” book and we got toshare a lot of time together in the beautiful Big Island setting. The nextafternoon we saw Mum off on a tiny Go Mukelele! flight that afforded heramazing vistas of the north end of the Big Island and the windward side of Maui(her next destination) from the air, and we reset for the next busy week to comebefore hauling out.

Looking for Lava on Kilauea Volcano and Glimpsing Pele's Glow

2012-01-24T15:05:00.000-08:00

Pele and her sister, Namaka
O Kaha'i, goddess of the sea
(painting by Herb Kane)

Pele, goddess of fire, wind and volcanoes in Hawaiian mythology, became active inside the Pu'u'O'o Vent of Kilauea Volcano once again at the end of September, just beforewe left the Big Island to explore more of the HawaiianIsland chain by boat. By the time we were crossing the Alenuihaha Channel on September 25th, lava was overflowing fromthe west gap of the crater. Nearly 3-months later, on Wednesday December 14th, we returned to the Big Island and putour anchor down in Kiholo Bay. That same day, popular press reported that Volcanoes National Park was providing access to lava viewing as it was now flowing inside the park boundary for the first time since 2007. Molten rock was actively flowing through a new fissure in Pu'u'O'o’s east flank and draining overland to finally reach the ocean at a site that scientists dubbed the West Ka'ili'ili Ocean Entry. Our excitement about visiting the volcanowas again reignited, especially for the geologist in Chris. Our first priority was that we hadto get Tao into a safe spot, recover from several months of sailing, andreconnect with family for the holidays.

The drive before dropping into VNP

On Fridaynight December 30th, we snuggled down early at 7pm to grab 3 hours ofrest before the 10pm alarm awoke us for our most recentadventure. By 11pm the quarter moon had set and we were underway inTruck-Truck, the wonderful local-style vehicle that was lent to us by generous Bikram Yoga friends, headed toward Volcanoes National Park via South Point.Truck-Truck’s fuel gage doesn’t work under ¼ tank, so we stuffed another gallon in at the “last” open stationjust south of Kealakekua and hoped that it would be enough to take us all the way to the town of Volcano and then down the Chainof Craters Road and back (150-miles).In the darkness we hurtled down the windy road along the western flanksof Mauna Loa and finally over the ridge that dropped us once again onto the easternside of the Big Island, the first time since we rounded the northern tip in Tao from Hilo back in July.

Around 2am, now New Year's Eve, we entered the national park and decided to first visit the Kilauea Overlook of the active Halema'uma'u Crater viewed from the Jaggar Museum.Usually packed with drive-up tourists, we were the only ones there. In the eerie silence, we watchedthe massive crater continually pump out ash to the glow of its lava lake below. It wasmesmerizing, like watching a bon fire and its smoldering coals. Feeling a bitof time pressure with a large unknown night hike ahead of us, we continued onand drove the 23-mile Chain of Craters road to its current terminus. We organizedour gear and prepared for the arduous 5-mile hike (one way) in the dark over uneven,jagged, very sharp older lava flows to the current activity. We planned to dothis in the dark with hopes of seeing the glow of flowing lava. In the charged stillness of the expansive land concealed by darkness, with stars twinkling above,we each hefted our water filled pack, shock absorbinghiking pole, a bright headlamp, and we started moving quickly over pavedroad away from our parked truck.

Lava flows of Kilauea's Pu'u O'o Vent from 1983 to today

Soon we came to a darker patch, which turned out to be where lava had previously covered and closed the road. Lengthened in 1959 to connect to the town of Kalapana, the next 8-miles of this road was covered by flows from thePu'u'O'o Vent between 1986-1991. “No walkingand gawking” was stressed by the informative ranger that we spoke to regardingthis hike. So, after climbing up onto the flow, we stood still and looked around toget our bearings, noting our first beacon- a flashing light in the appropriatedirection. Slowly, we made way toward the beacon, always focusing our headlampbeam and our eyes on our next step. Now getting comfortable with the terrainand moving relatively quickly,Chris’footing slid between the 2nd and 3rd beacon, and he grazed his hand on surrounding lava rock- no problem,except that it is so sharp that his hand was immediately cut. Out came thefirst aid kit and after a patch up first aid session, we donned thework gloves we had been strongly encouraged to bring, and continued on. Eachstep was upon glittering rock and we continually had to adjust our route awayfrom precipitous drop offs through the old pahoehoe flows.

After nearly5-miles and the seventh and last blinking beacon, we stopped to decide on our next steps over our thermosof tea, while watching the slight glow coming from the direction of the Pu'u'O'o Vent. Our “directions” went no further than this and we still could not see any obvious flowinglava. Nearing 6am we were about to lose our lava-viewing-from-darkness vantage. Though lava had been flowing at the surface quite close to this spot a mere twodays previous, it appeared we were not going to win what the ranger had aptly described as the “lava lottery” today. Still, having come this far, we decided to continue on. As the sun rose,the previously cloaked scene became clear. The steep eastern flank of the Pu'u'O'o Vent was obviously darkened with still-smokingsections from the recent hillside flows down to the relatively flat land, upon which westood, which gently sloped eastward toward the ocean. Along this “flat land” section we could see steam exiting certain spots and “mirages” caused by areas of super heatedgases escaping through fissures in the rock. Always the explorer, Chris excitedly moved aroundcollecting temperature data at each new point with our laser gauge (used on Tao to determine enginetemperatures).

Although onthis morning we did not see overland flow, lava was flowing in a lava tube directlybelow us! Through several cracks, we could glimpse the glow. Keeping a safe distance away (i.e. our feet were not hot), we followed theobvious steam and mirages along this underground tube SE toward the ocean, until we reached a view point of the ocean entry.Although in the sunlight it did not appear bright orange as imagined, we were ableto see the newly formed bench of land (now looking whitish-grey) and steam plumes asthe ocean waves crashed and sizzled along the newly formed shore. A more “normal” hour now (7amor so), we began to hear the hum of helicopters and power boats carryingtourists to view the scene from above and from sea to witness new land beingcreated. Looking around, we marveled at different flows with varying levels of minerals and cooling conditions, eachappearing distinct; some as solid gold and all containing shiny substances that had sparkled so in the light of our headlamps. After collecting more temperature data, and probably getting closer tothe lava tube entrance than necessary (since the laser gauge topped its peak of 450F), at about 9am we prepared for the grueling return hike to the truck. Three and ahalf hours later we once again reached the terminus at the Chain of Craters road, in the daylight, marked by a beautiful sea arch.

West Ka'ili'ili Ocean Entry 12/31/2011

Pele's hair = volcanic glass

Quite tired,we enjoyed several accessible view points as we drove out of the park and stopped in the littletown of Punalu'u to fuel up the truck and buy some famous Hawaiian sweet breadfor the ride back to Honokohau. We got back to Tao just as the sun was setting on the last day of 2011 and celebrated with Grizzly by taking a nice long nap andwaking up to a bright and sunny 2012. Now that we have a better understanding of what the scale is and the capricious nature of the lava flow, we will be able to make decisions to get there more quickly next time we hear of a flow happening this close to us. We were tired but happy to have glimpsed the last of Pele before she went into hiding again. As of January 4th 2012, the ocean entry is officially in “a state of pause.”

Happy Holidays 2011

2011-12-26T22:38:00.000-08:00

Celebrating Hawaiian Style

On Christmas Eve, as a gale raged with 18-ft seas in the Alenuihaha Channel, we were safely moored in Honokohau Harbor decorating our Charlie Brown Christmas tree, listening to the breathing sounds of endangered Hawaiian Green Sea Turtle (Honu) just outside Tao's cockpit, while sipping Jack Frost tea under a star-filled moonless sky. Christmas morning, Shawn taught and Chris took an 8 am class at Bikram Yoga Kona. Just before Final Savasana at the end of the packed class, one of the students proposed to his girlfriend; so much love! Back on the boat we gorged on sushi and our favorite Hawaiian style poke then worked it off with a first try of stand up paddleboarding (SUP) and a sunset hike. Maybe not the traditional celebration (at these moments family does seem very far away), but we very much enjoyed a sunny, warm, ocean-filled Hawaiian Christmas together! To herald in the new year, we plan to go to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park in search of flowing lava and hope to catch a glimpse of Pele's glow. We'll let you know how that goes. Happiest of Holidays to everyone, wherever you are!!

Unstable Winter Weather Passages

2011-12-17T21:53:00.001-08:00

Sunrise inLahaina on the 10th of December brought moist, windy, and rainbow filled conditions.We constantly monitored the 6-hourly updated NOAA weather reports surrounding the unstable atmosphere and watched the rapidly changing conditions trying to make a plan. In an afternoon lull in the wind, we managed toget to shore in time for the Saturday market in Banyan Tree Park. While ashore we visited the Lahaina Yacht Club to check in, then went to the grocery to buy our favorite Hawaiianstyle poke and sushi snacks, and finally we scoped out areas to leave Fatty and park a rental car. We were hopingto spend a few days on the mooring, rent a car and tour some of eastern Mauithat we have not yet seen (Haleakela and Hana). Unfortunately, that night we had another poor night of sleep. The strong currents (reminiscent of La Paz, Mexico) heldus as strange angles to the wind and waves, allowing our roll stabilizer totangle with the mooring. When we awoke to hear that the motor boat next to usbroke free of its mooring and damaged a nearby cruising catamaran, we decided that itwas time for us to move on.

Holiday Banyan Tree

One of these dinghys doesn't look like the others.
We love Fatty!!

Aftervisiting new friends on Quixotic (whose catamaran had sustained damage from theerrant powerboat), we prepped Tao to sail. The fickle winds vanished just as we were about to sail off themooring, but with our minds set on moving to a morecomfortable sleeping anchorage, we fired up Yannie and headed east. Newdestination: Sugar Beach at Kihei, with back up of McGregor’s Landing if Maalaea Bay was toorough to cross (there were 20 knot winds forecast for the day). With our fullmain and 80% jib, we sailed on the inconsistent shifting winds in the lee ofthe Maui West Mountains. We passed Awalua Beach anchorage, where we had spentour 10-yr anniversary, and continued on around the point and past Olowalu. Itwas at this spot on our way west that winds had screamed down the valley prompting our decision not to anchor here. This time, however, we were more prepared and dropped the full mainbefore reaching the slot in the mountains while sailing by. The weather felt electric. Ahead toward Maalaea Bay, conditions did not look good with the tops being blown off frothy white caps. But still determined, we continued on. However, we were quickly overpowered when we reached the gap winds. It was indeed as rough as it lookedfrom afar. These were not the predicted 20-knot winds, closer to 40-knots! Upon Shawn’s pleas andknowing that we were indeed overpowered with our current configuration, Chrisjibed us and we headed back toward the safety of Awalua Beach. Unwilling tobelieve that we were unable to even reach McGregor’s Landing, stubbornly Chris beggedShawn to let us try again. With longing glances over his shoulder, he claimed itlooked like conditions were mellowing again and maybe we had just seen the leadingedge. A second attempt, however, had us quickly running back to safer conditions.

We reachedAwalua Beach just in time for the winds rushing down the 4K-ft mountains toreach there as well. Yannie chugging away and sails down, we headed for ourprevious anchor point where we knew there were expansive sandy conditions. Overthe howling winds Chris yelled “Drop the hook!” And Rocky was immediately onthe job setting without the engine. For good measure we did back down on theanchor as we observed what the astonishingly strong winds did to Tao at anchor. Flying dust made it difficult to look into the wind, water was being blownoff the wave tops, whirlpools of water were being sucked off the surface, and waves were already kicked up by the time they reachedTao only 350-yds off shore. And then suddenly, it would mellow to 20-knots, only to come raging backagain clocked up to 40-knots with our anemometer. We let out nearly 7:1 allchain scope to handle the sudden extreme gusts which continued consistentlylate into the night. The NOAA forecast showed the next morning would be clearto move, but when we awoke, the gale warning that had finally been issued wasextended and there were still lingering gusts. So we stayed put and used it asa recovery day even though the conditions appeared to be waning. Shawn cookedand rowed Chris into shore where he hitched a ride into town to grab a few morefood items. Tired from several nights of poor sleep, we went down with the beautiful setting sun and slept for a solid 11-hrs.

Recovery setup below decks

We awokeearly Tuesday the 13th, and were underway by 0900. Surrounding conditions weremuch improved and NOAA forecasts were still looking favorable (SW winds 10-15) for a Wednesday Alenuihaha Channel crossing. Slight breezes filled inand we slowly sailed toward La Perouse, our planned jump-off anchorage on the SW edge ofMaui. It was a whale watching extravaganza. As far as we could see eachdirection, there were spouts, humped backs and whale tails diving. The whaleswere apparently on the move and it was magical. We made it across Maalaea Bayby 1300 where the winds disappeared. Drifting on the currents, we turned onYannie to move the final few miles to La Perouse and checked the weather again.Not surprisingly, the forecast had changed. NOAA was obviously having difficultyforecasting with the unstable air masses aloft. The updated forecast predicted that conditionswould hold through the day (now E 15-20) and then Wednesday deteriorate to solid20-25-knots. We could see heavy storm clouds hanging over Haleakela promisingrain, and feared that the window was closing for making comfortable safe passageacross the Alenuihaha Channel.

Clouds menacing over Maui

Decisionpoint, do we stay or do we go? We decided to conservatively poke our nose outinto the edge of the channel where we figured the late afternoon winds would beat their maximum. If it was too much, we’d turn around and happily enjoy moretime on Maui. As we left the protection of Maui around 1400, winds filled insolidly from the E at 15-knots with seas to 4-ft. Flying along under 80% jibalone, Shawn lobbied to turn back, pull into La Perouse and get the boat moreprepared for the crossing, then leave before the sun set. Chris lobbied tocontinue on and prepare underway to make miles across the channel while the sunwas shining. Together we decided to go for it. Chris bravely went ondeck to set the jack lines and detatched the anchor in order to put the teakplug into our haus pipe. Feeling uncomfortable, without options to reduce sail, Shawnquickly talked Chris into a heads’l change. We dropped the jib and spent 20uncomfortable, very wet minutes on the foredeck attaching the storms’l andremoving the 80% as we floated side to the swell. Up went the storm jib, and weneeded a little more area, so a triple-reefed mains’l quickly followed. We wantedto point toward the north end of the Big Island (120-deg magnetic), but instead, we settledfor the southern point (150-deg magnetic) which was as highas we could point in semi-comfort. We were being set by a strong current and itwas apparent that we were ferrying across a massive river of water squeezed betweenMaui and the Big Island. By 1530, the winds were gusting to 25-knots withseas building to 5-ft and an ominously cloudy sky. By 1700 we had lost some windspeed, and by the time we saw the last rays of sun, seas had increased to an uncomfortable 8-ft. Five hours after entering the channel we were half way across whenthe winds and seas abruptly decreased and the clouds began to break, lettingstars peek through. We raised the full main and sailed another half hour inless than 10-knots of wind and 4-ft seas when it finally became obvious thatwe weren’t really sailing, but drifting due south with the currents.Chris voiced the option of waiting for the wind and Shawn,still feeling exposed, barely half way across the channel, voted for the iron genoa.

Yannie tothe rescue, again. It wasn’t until the winds reduced to nothing and thenswitched to the SE that we finally believed that, although still 20-nm out, wewere once again in the lee of the Big Island. We both felt that we werebeing welcomed home into the safe embrace of the Big Island’s shadow. With theengine on we were able to motor sail another 6-hrs in mostly calm conditionswith stars ablaze and phosphorescence in our wake. We watched on the AIS andsubsequently searched for lights of not one but two cargo ships barreling downthe Alenuihaha Channel at 14-knots of speed and one tug-towing-barge north of usleaving Kawaihae Harbor at 8-knots for points west where we had been shortly before. Thequarter moon finally rose brightly but was quickly obscured by a squall thatbrought a half hour heavy downpour and complete freshwater rinse for Tao. As weapproached our waypoint for Kiholo Bay we were greeted by the sweet scent offreshly rained upon land. Although we don’t like to come into anchorages atnight, we were confident with our previous exploration and luckily dropped theanchor right into the large patch of sand just before 0200 early Wednesday the14th.

Our eastward journey across the Alenuihaha Channel was 50-nm, 20-nm longer than our westwardcrossing much higher in the channel. If you add another 18-nm from Awalua Beach to the edge of Maui, we traveled 68-nm over 17-hrs. We are grateful to have made another safe passageacross the deservedly infamous Alenuihaha Channel, and would not like to see it in conditions anystronger than those we saw. Although the weather window did stay open throughout the nextday, it has since slammed shut and there are currently gale conditions(>35-knots with 17-ft seas) in the channel which are not forecast to let up until justbefore the New Year. In the safety of the Big Island leeward waters, we reveled in the land of black sand and red sunsets. We spenttwo gorgeous days at anchor in Kiholo Bay listening to whale blows and songs,watching huge manta rays swimming, sailing over reefs in Fatty and exploring ashore, all the while discussingour next options. When a space came open in Honokohau Harbor on the 16th, wequickly made our way there to secure moorage in safe harbor for the holidaysduring the dangerous Kona-wind season. As we motorsailed south along the coast,we watched whales and dolphins blow and dive. Once in the harbor, after topping our fuel andtalking to the DLNR office, we were welcomed by Tim of Midnight Blue (who we last saw in Punta de Mita) on his new paddleboard as we made our way to our current home, slipJ-28.

Lovely Lana'i

2011-12-12T09:52:00.001-08:00

Tao in Nanahoa anchorage, western Lana'i

Lana'i from Moloka'i

As December rolled in, the winds were finally forecast to decrease. Just before 1000 Thursday morning the 1st, we sailed south off the anchor, directly downwind out of Kaunakakai Harbor en route toward Lana’i. As we poked our nose out into the Kalohi Channel, the light winds began to veer easterly (the tail of Pailolo Channel winds dominate here) and then continued to veer to the south so we put full sail up for an upwind sail. A check on the AIS alerted us to an eastbound tug-towing-barge that had already passed ahead. A half hour later, another glimpse at the AIS showed a second eastbound tug-towing-barge, this one headed toward Tao. At first this raised our anxiety level, but they were far enough away that we were able to eventually sail out of their path and they passed to our stern. Clear of traffic, we then noted a squall over Moloka’i to the NW. We could see white caps and a sheet of moisture headed our way, so we completely dropped the main just in time for the wind to shift and increase. An hour later the squall had dissipated and we were again under full sail rounding the NW edge of Lana’i for 5-nm of gorgeous sailing in 12-knots of wind with calm seas in its lee. As we neared the island, winds vanished, we dropped sail and motored in to check out our hoped for anchorage: Nanahoa, named after the male fertility god of Hawaiian legend.

Chart showing the channels between islands

Nanahoa pinnacle

Nanahoa anchorage, also known as Five Pinnacles, is a leeward island anchorage along steep cliffs of western Lana’i, tucked in just north of several sea stacks jutting out of the water. It was a bit disconcerting to be anchoring as a small swell rolled in creating a massive blowhole just ashore. However, after diving on the anchor to check it was solidly buried in sand and deploying the roll stabilizer, the magic of this place was palpable as the setting sun lit up the cliffs and spires surrounding us. Although we surmise from guidebook descriptions that it is usually a bit calmer (there was a 14-ft NW swell rolling into Kauai only showing up at Lana’i as 2-4-ft because of the protection of all the older islands to the NW), it was indeed gorgeous! The next morning we had fun exploring the area where water meets land from Fatty.

Sunset at Kalama Nui

With a few more anchorages that we wanted to explore on Lana’i during this lull in the winds, we decided to move on to the next anchorage that afternoon. We quickly motored in the calm conditions to Kalama Nui anchorage, less than 2-nm away. This little secluded cove is located at the base of one of the few deep valleys in cliffy western Lana’i. It is tucked between walls of layered lava and known to have flat, clear waters. Though beautiful and safe, the conditions when we were there were not welcoming for swimming. This was intensified when out for a row in Fatty, Chris sited a 12-14-inch tiger shark fin in the cove a mere 300-ft away. So, instead, we sailed Fatty less than 1-nm south to Kaumalapau Harbor, the only commercial barge harbor on Lana’i. We had planned to anchor there one night, but as the harbor was quite small with another sailboat already at anchor, we decided to keep Tao in the protected waters of Kalama Nui a second night.

Kalama Nui anchorage

Kaumalapau Harbor

Tao sailing away from Kalama Nui

On Saturday the 4th, we sailed out of Kalama Nui along stark 1600-ft cliffs called the Kaholo Pali toward Palaoa Point, the SW tip of the island. Just before rounding the point is a sacred cove, commonly known as Shark's Fin Cove after a large lava rock protruding the water surface. It was a favorite fishing ground of King Kamehameha I, with the site of the ancient Kaunolu Village above, and also the site of Kehekili's Leap where warriors demonstrate bravery by leaping off the 80-ft cliff, out 15-ft past a rocky base into the cove in only 20-ft of water. Two sources told us that there was a pull mooring among these towering cliffs that we could use overnight if no one else was on it. After a bit of searching, we discovered the submerged float in a surreal spot that we could never have anchored. Through the extremely clear water, we could see a beautiful rocky coral ground 50-ft below. With our flopper stopper working overtime, we were grateful to be able to watch the sunset from the cove and early the following morning, we sailed off the mooring to slowly make our way 6-nm along the coast to Manele Bay small boat harbor on the SE edge of Lana’i.

Tao in Manele Bay harbor

Manele Bay, the only all weather harbor on Lana’i, was indeed small and we were lucky to find space at a dock, for 4-nights of nice flat calm sleep. Soon after we tied up, the clouds opened for an unexpected 10-min downpour, which we learned it rarely does there. We considered it a good omen. This tiny harbor was peacefully relaxed with brief busy periods throughout the day when boatloads of people arrived and left via the Lahaina to Lana’i ferry. A quick stroll from the boat took us to Hulopo’e Bay with a large sugary white sand beach flanked by lava bed reef tidal pools, and a secluded eroded volcanic cone with another offshore sea stack called Sweetheart Rock, Pu'upehe Islet of Hawiian legend. Early one morning, we caught a shuttle up to Lana’i City, the islands only town, where all 3K residents of the island live. The town has a distinctly Pacific northwestern feel with Cook Island Pines lining the ridges catching fog-drip to provide critical water resources for this otherwise arid island. We enjoyed talking to people at the Lana'i Culture and Heritage Center and learned a bit about the islands rich, well documented history. Although known as “The Pineapple Isle,” after a time when Dole owned most of the island, pineapples are no longer grown here. Instead, it is now nearly all owned by one entity (Castle & Cooke) and the dominant industry is tourism with two mega resorts run by Four Seasons who lease the land. Back in the harbor we met Norm and Lori from cruising catamaran, Falcor, recently arrived from Queen Charlotte Islands Canada. We decided to stay an extra night to enjoy Manele Bay more and celebrate Lori’s birthday with “appetizers” which turned out to be an amazing 5-course meal with the finale being a chocolate cake with lemon icing that we managed to make in the pressure cooker (since our oven needs some replacement tubing). We thoroughly enjoyed our time visiting this island and would love to explore more- though to get around anywhere else, it is either necessary to do some rigorous hiking or have access to a 4WD vehicle.

Lahaina, Maui rainbow

With the NOAA forecast calling for an increase in the trade winds, we decided to make haste out of Manele early December 9th moving to leeward Maui to await a weather window for jumping back across the Alenuihaha Channel to the Big Island. Between Lana’i and Maui was a frustrating sail that turned into a motor as we crossed the Auau Channel. Winds piped up early and gave us enough boost to reef down our main, but when we tacked back into the lee of Maui West Mountains, winds disappeared leaving uncomfortable mixed seas. Having seen a few whale tails off shore from Lana’i, during the 14-nm trip we searched in vain for a close up glimpse of the humpback whales that come here every season to mate and give birth. When we reached Lahaina mid-afternoon, we decided to take advantage of the gracious offer of the Lahaina Yacht Club to use its moorings for free for up to 2-weeks. After Chris dove on it and seized an open shackle, we were greeted by spinner dolphins, rainbows, strong winds and strong currents. After watching the sun set followed by full moon rise, we set our alarms for 4am HST and awoke to see the full lunar eclipse. These moments, when we feel so close to nature witnessing its grandeur, are one of the sustaining factors in our cruising adventures.

More Moloka’i

2011-12-01T11:35:00.000-08:00

Kaunakakai is a state run commercial and small boat harbor in the center of the south coast of Moloka’i. It is easy to be grateful when safely anchored in 11-ft of flat calm water at the end of the large natural channel through the reef now used as a barge turning basin, as the winds howl and the lumpy Pailolo Channel waves and gale force winds roll by just outside the harbor entrance marks. We hadn’t expected to make it back to Moloka’i at all, so gladly took this chance to hide from fresh trade winds and experience other parts of this special island.

Our first morning we awoke to the sunrise and two tugs towing a large barge. It was fascinating to watch the professional captains working together to bring the gigantic barge in and docking it without mishap. We were hanging ever so slightly into the channel and it was surreal to see the barge headed directly toward us so close (maybe 100-ft!), only at the last moment to be redirected by the two tugs. It was enough for us to pull up the anchor and move from our comfortable 18-ft depth closer to shore, settling for a location in 11-ft but certainly out of the way. Now anchored in shallower waters with an obvious reef a mere 300-ft W, Chris took Fatty and our lead-line to manually depth sound around Tao and scope out possible places to leave Fatty while we explored ashore. He met a very welcoming local man on the beach at the N end of the harbor who assured us it was fine to leave our dinghy under the shade of a tree among the canoe club’s outriggers.

Kaunakakai, the most populous place on all of Molaka’i, is a one street town without even a stoplight. The 1,900-ft long pier is always teeming with people, and besides serving as the island's only barge depot, it seems to be a place that locals come to get away from the island. With approximately 6K permanent residents on the island, everyone knows everyone else and therefore everyone knew that we were visitors. Most folks we met were extraordinarily welcoming, which is possibly where Molokai's title as “The Friendly Isle” comes from. In this little town, there are still two groceries, a few restaurants, a bakery, a baseball field, a community center and the only two gas stations on the island. Refreshingly, there were none of the “every town” stores like CostCo, McDonalds, or Starbucks. We caught the free MEO bus (subsidized by Maui County) to the airport where we picked up a rental car from noon Monday to noon Tuesday. We managed to drive 130-miles of the paved roads on this approximately 36-mile long and 6-mile wide island.

Monday highlights included (1) the Kalaupapa Overlook on the N-center of the island, where wet windward weather whipped over the island, and through the moist haze we could see the spot we had previously anchored downwind of the peninsula (2) a short hike to the island’s sacred Phallic Rock (3) scrumptious plate lunch in the center of the island at the Kualapu’u Cookhouse (4) Maunaloa Town, a small plantation village at the W end in the hills above the coast (from which a 4WD road leads down to Hale-O-Lono Harbor), where we checked out the Big Wind Kite Factory, and finally our favorite (5) Papohaku Beach, located just two miles south of where we had previously anchored behind Ilio Point on W Moloka’i. We walked the deserted 3-mile long beach and had fun taking yoga pictures as the sun set and waves slammed into the coast.

Tuesday morning we took the only paved road along the south and east edge of Moloka’i. We stopped frequently at scenic vistas and points of interest along the way, until the road’s terminus in Halawa Valley, where two stunning waterfalls run year round. Each point we stopped at had its own charm and perspective, with spectacular views of Lanai, Maui, and Halawa Valley from afar. There is definitely much more to the island of Moloka’i; hiking trails, 4WD roads, high mountains, amazing surfing and snorkeling along Hawaii’s longest continuous coral reef which follows Molokai’s southern shore for 28 miles. But, we are appreciative to have gotten to tour as much as we did.

While here we had the extraordinary opportunity to witness firsthand, a stark line being drawn between two distinct factions among the islands residents; those who would welcome change and those who would like to keep Moloka’i as it is. Our first encounter involved the debate over whether to allow a charter yacht, the Safari Explorer, to arrive and tie up to the large pier at Kaunakakai Harbor and allow her nearly 40 guests to disembark and tour the island. Early Saturday morning, November 26th, we witnessed the Safari Explorer attempting to enter the outer channel at Kaunakakai immediately following the large barge and two tugs. After the barge had been secured, two small trailerable motor vessels packed with protesters, each flying huge flags, zipped by us out the entrance channel toward the Safari Explorer and literally chased them off (later we learned that the vessel visited Lanai that day instead). Late that night we were awakened by the noise and lights of the Safari Explorer as it finally made a successful bid to dock at the pier. The next morning we awoke to a large group of people loudly protesting the yacht's presence, yelling “Go Home!” and “No Cruise Ships!” At the same time, we saw a group of supporters waving signs saying, “Welcome to Molokai!” while the Safari Explorer’s guests passed by in vans heading onshore to see the sites. As far as we can tell, there exists both fierce support and opposition to this change, and a lot of misunderstanding between everyone.

Our second experience was a bit closer to home. We witnessed what we assume was a deep-set expression of frustration and anger when one particular islander decided he had a bone to pick with the captain of the sailboat moored next to us (who has been living aboard in the water's of Moloka’i for years). He screamed from the pier next to his small pickup truck (likely in a drug induced state) about his woes and how this “haole” had messed with the wrong Hawaiian. He ranted consistently from just after midnight until dawn interspersing threats to our neighbor sailboat that made us quite uncomfortable. We witnessed the police come twice to speak to him and both times he took up again after they disappeared. Although his ire was not specifically directed at us, we felt threatened and unwelcome none-the-less. (NOTE we did learn something from getting Seahor stolen as we solidly chose not to confront someone obviously aggressive). It is a difficult situation because there are deep divides among today’s island residents. Most people have made us feel welcome in Hawaii. However, we admit to several times having felt the underlying assumption that we are welcome only as long as we are also leaving soon, and are often well aware that here we are malihini (newcomers). Hawaii became the 50th US state in 1959, and merely 50-yrs later, it is no surprise that there is still deep unrest running through the islands. All of that said, we do not presume to really understand at all...

What we do know is that overall we have had many more positive interactions than negative around the Hawaiian Islands and on Moloka’i in particular, so we choose not to let one experience dampen our special feelings for it. Instead, we feel lucky to have been close enough to witness the beauty of the island as well as some of the struggles faced by the people who live in Hawaii today. We stayed in Kaunakakai one more day, organized the boat to sail, bought a few freshies, and caught up on sleep the next night in preparation for a passage to the close neighbor island of Lanai.

Thanksgiving Passage: Eastward across the Kaiwi Channel

2011-11-26T13:06:00.001-08:00

Transitions are always difficult. Arriving to a fast-paced city from the wilderness of the ocean, we become acutely aware of where we spend our energy while cruising versus while trying to fit into society. It is similar for disentangling from land as well. But step-by-step we moved toward getting underway. Although we didn’t have any down time, we felt as prepared as we could be for untying and pushing away from the dock at 1830 on Thanksgiving as the last rays of sun reflected off the buildings of Honolulu.

We motored out of the harbor and found decent sailing conditions as the stars and city buildings twinkled to life in the moonless sky. Our plan was to get Tao to Makapu’u Point (the easternmost point of Oahu) and jump off from there to have a better sailing angle toward Lanai (to the SE in ENE winds). Since this means after a mere 3.5-nm we would round the Diamond Head buoy to head NE, directly into the wind, we decided to continue to motor. As we expected, seas got rougher after rounding the buoy; however, we did not predict that they would continue to intensify as we slowly made way upwind to gain northing. We surmised that it was due to the large tidal fluctuation during the New Moon that serendipitously reached its lowest point at 2030 while we were on the “shallows” (20-fathoms, or 120-ft) at the western edge of the Kaiwi Channel. We worked our way into deeper water (100-fathoms, or 600-ft) and the chaos of waves decreased. However, the seas became markedly more chaotic an hour later as we passed Koko Head (2-weeks previous from which we had watched a full moon rise), so we decided to fall off 2-nm short of the eastern point and start sailing toward Lanai.

Prepared for winds stronger than forecast (E to NE 20) we had removed our 80% jib and hanked on our storm jib which we quickly hoisted. Chris throttled Yannie down to neutral and took the helm from Captain Tilly (our auto helm) as we fell off and were immediately broadside to the seas. Chris powered Yannie down completely and closed the engine sea cock, while Shawn clipped into the jacklines and jumped on deck to set the 3rd reef in the mains'l while Chris hauled away. At this stage, Chris was finally gripped by horrible seasickness, after having fought it valiantly for the first several hours. Tao’s boat motion is nearly always better when under sail than power, and it was the same in this situation, though in general there was not enough wind (10 gusting to 20-knots) for the remnant seas, making the motion less-than-comfortable. With Shawn at the mast again, Chris struggled through his sickness to get the mains’l all the way up and Moni set on course, taking a moment to be sick overboard before he stumbled down below to try to sleep it off. By default Shawn got the graveyard shift. We could have used more sail area up forward (good argument for roller furling headsails), but we were definitely moving (albeit slowly) in the right direction and the sea state was finally becoming more regular.

At midnight, 8-nm later near the middle of the Kaiwi Channel, Shawn noted vessel lights straight ahead. She immediately raced down below to check the AIS which showed nothing. It must not be a large ship. Unfortunately, quite quickly it became obvious that it was indeed a large vessel. The white light turned into a green and red and white light; dead ahead and yet not showing up on the AIS. Still plenty far away, Shawn apologetically woke Chris for extra eyes on deck. Although he continued not to feel well, he was willing to do anything, but could not quite concentrate. With Chris ready to start the engine if neccesary, Shawn hailed the “tug-towing-a-barge-entering-the Kaiwi-Channel” on 16 to make contact. As she switched to 18 for discussion, the ship FINALLY popped up on the AIS a mere 2.5-nm away (turns out its signal had been blocked by our mast and sails). The Moana Holo tug captain, who had indeed seen us on his radar, was planning to momentarily turn more to port to head toward Honolulu (as opposed to starboard to go up the channel and then on to Kahului on windward Maui) leaving us plenty of space. Relief washed over us as the barge’s green starboard light slowly disappeared indicating their movement to port. Over the next half hour we watched as the merrily lighted tug with its tow passed 1-nm to our starboard.

Now 0100, we were crossing onto the dreaded Penguin Bank from 300 to 30-fathoms and experienced nearly immediate changes. Most notably and unexpectedly, the winds dropped, and we were being swept by current southward along the bank instead of our intended eastward progress. The weather window was small, Chris was sick, and so without much thought, Yannie was called back into service to motor sail. Chris took this opportunity to head back to the sea bunk. Only too quickly was he back up on deck again hanging over the side losing what was left of his dinner. He crawled back to his bunk and gratefully slept hard. After getting onto the bank, the seas thankfully became calmer and Shawn enjoyed the brilliant phosphorescence and twinkling stars with Orion watching over us for several more hours. Chris awoke at 0400 feeling much better and wanted to take watch to allow Shawn a rest. Together we took down the mainsail and Shawn made haste to the bunk leaving Chris to mull over the option of motoring either to Lanai as planned or to Kaunakakai Harbor on Moloka’i, usually too far upwind to sail from Oahu. Feeling astonishingly well, Chris enjoyed a few hours of slicing through the calm water watching shooting stars and the rising sun. Shawn awoke at 0730 as we neared the entrance to Kaunakakai Harbor.

Welcome back to Moloka’i! By 0800 we got the anchor down and set, had called the harbor master to relay our arrival, and dived into bed to rest as we gently swayed at anchor. After several hours of sleep, we (including Grizzly) awoke and enjoyed a Thanksgiving feast of thick sliced deli turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and homemade cranberry sauce topped by a fantastic sunset. Although the passage was tougher than we like, working through the struggles of our adventure always makes safe landfall in paradise that much sweeter. Overall, we are both very thankful to be where we are, together, and living our dreams.

Too much or not enough Oahu??

2011-11-23T15:39:00.001-08:00

Just in case you're wondering why everything seems to take us so long. This is what happens when Chris has breakfast duty… Needless to say, Shawn ended up making brunch around noon and now we have a nicely cleaned sink with all the old no longer functioning adhesive material completely removed.

We can’t decide if we’ve had too much time or not enough on Oahu. We really had all the intentions of being in Oahu for only 1-week. But at the end of that week, the forecast for crossing looked grim. No problem, we can always find fun ways to explore and spend time. Mellow is more our style anyway. So we continued to visit Chris’ grandmother frequently and added trips by bus to see interesting parts of Oahu. While APEC was in full swing, we tried to get away from the city to hike Diamond Head, but found that for safety of the dignitaries, the trail was closed early. So we hopped another bus and continued E to Hanauma Bay. Permanently off-limits to motorized vessels of any kind, this well known bay is where hoards of Honolulu tourists descend to snorkel the beautiful reef. Ironically it is also where Chris’ grandparents watched workmen dynamite a section of the coral in 1957 when the first Trans-Pacific undersea telephone cable was laid. From here we had a gorgeous view of Diamond Head at sunset to the W and Koko Head and the fullmoon rise to the E.

The next day we did an around-the-island bus trip stopping at a few points of interest. Our first stops were on the NE windward side of the island; Kaneohe Bay and Mokolii Island (locally known as Chinaman’s Hat), which might just have the most beautiful bus stop in the world. We caught another bus and got off again to explore Kawela and Turtle Bay on the NW windward side of the island. Again we boarded yet another bus and continued SW around the island, and near literally stepped off onto the the world renowned beaches of the “North Shore” where tons of surfers were shredding the small waves of Pipeline and Sunset. The energy of onlookers and surfers alike was abuzz in preparation for the imminent annual ASP Triple Crown surf competition.

Over 2-weeks in Honolulu-town and still, the weather was not mellowing. We negotiated a monthly rate with the Kewalo Basin folks and although there was a small weather break forecast for the end of the next week, we decided to buy a full November bus pass (an upgrade from the 4-day passes we’d been using until now). Also, our list of fun things to do kept growing. This extra time allowed us to visit Chris’ other uncle, Strat, show him Tao, and join Grandma and him for another trip to the Punchbowl for the year anniversary of Grandpa’s passing. On the 17th, we had to move Tao to the slip open on the other side of our dock as the owner of the one we’d been in was due home. Shawn taught a yoga class at Bikram Yoga Nimitz in Honolulu and Chris met with Dorothy Iams and sat in on a few science classes at Punahou School. We were surrounded by the hustle and bustle of humanity with stores constantly reminding us of the approaching holiday season. Since USPS was accessible here, we decided to do our Christmas shopping early. Among all of these tasks, we continued to visit Margi every couple of days, and the howling trade winds persisted. We are under the impression that winter weather in Hawaii includes more breaks in the trade winds than summer months- however this has not been our experience thus far. Pouring over the online weather models, we found a small 24-hr window starting Thanksgiving afternoon before stronger-than-normal trade winds would return late Friday, and decided to attempt an eastward crossing. Our focus immediately shifted to tying up loose ends in preparation to sail.

We mailed out boxes stuffed with holiday gifts, filled our tanks with diesel which required a half mile walk to the nearest fill station and back with a 5-gal jug twice (good job Chris and thanks to Kewalo Basin Harbor for lending us a dolly!) and water (always a tedious task was made more interesting by requiring carrying twelve 5-gal jugs from the water spout at the far end of the dock and then lowering them down to our boat at low tide because our drinking water hose was way too short for the distance). Finally, off to the grocery to provision for a couple of weeks as we make our way back to the Big Island via at least one several day stop at Lanai. Two back packs, 5 rip-stop nylon bags (one of the unsung heroes of our adventures) and $250 of groceries later and we caught a bus back toward the harbor and walked the final half mile to Tao where we cleaned up and stowed our purchases. The next morning we grabbed an early bus, poinsettia and Christmas present in hand, to visit Grandma for a nice Thanksgiving brunch (as well as the added bonus of a last load of laundry, hot freshwater shower, and frozen water bottles for our fridge). Even though there are many things we would still like to see and do on Oahu, we were able to experience much more than we ever expected, and most importantly, it was very special for us to be able to spend so much quality time visiting with Chris’ grandmother. Thank you, Margi!

A “quick” visit to the rainbow capital, Oahu??

2011-11-06T18:12:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, October 25th, and yet another channel crossing; this time the Kaiwi Channel with destination Honolulu, Oahu. In an attempt to balance making some miles before the winds got too strong and having enough wind to mostly sail, we set the alarm for 0330. At 0500 with no winds and in complete darkness, we exited Lono Harbor utilizing the GPS track we had collected when entering. As it was the day prior to a completely New Moon, a tiny sliver of moon rose above the horizon heralding the waking sun soon after exiting the harbor. We motored until almost 0800 until we were nearly off Penguin Bank, a shallow area running SW off the edge of Moloka’i, when a slight breeze filled in. Over the next two hours we encountered light winds everywhere from WSW to NW, and rolling uncomfortable seas caused by opposing currents rushing along the shallow bank (see map below). Finally, just after 1000 a squall passed over head bringing comfortable winds from the expected E direction.

Another hour later we started to pull reefs in the mains’l and by noon, as we approached the western edge of the channel, the winds were up to 20 knots and we had lashed the entire main down. Having heard motors all morning only to discover time and again that they were planes, we finally spotted our first real traffic- a cargo ship speeding down the channel toward Honolulu. Why wasn’t it up on the AIS yet? This was a good reminder that there is no substitute for standing watch and using your eyes. As it turns out, we (Shawn) had mixed up the early morning cable connections which left us without actually receiving signals (oops!). Many thanks to the ocean gods for allowing us safe crossing, as traffic is one of the big concerns over the nearly 40-nm crossing. Once in the protection of Makapu’u Point (the easternmost point of Oahu), the sea state suddenly settled and sailing conditions became very SF Bay-like. We had a beautiful hour of sailing during which we watched first Koko Head and then Diamond Head Crater come into focus. It was Shawn’s first time to Oahu and she was amazed at the huge quantity of houses clinging to the foothills. Whereas on the Big Island there were fresh-looking lava flows, here on Oahu, it looked like there were flows of houses covering any surface flat enough. Then we rounded Diamond Head, and Waikiki and Honolulu’s skyscrapers came into view. It was quite a culture shock to have left Moloka'i, the least populous of the main Hawaiian Islands, and arrive in Honolulu the largest city on Oahu, the most densely populated island of the archipelago.

Immediately we picked out all the normal big-city-on-the-water things; parasailers, submarine glass bottom tours, tourist filled catamarans, cruise ships, etc… We were able to sail directly to the entrance of Kewalo Basin Harbor, one of the few spaces we’d been able to find in our attempts to call/e-mail from Lono Harbor. We are grateful that the Kewalo Basin harbormaster, Charles Barclay, welcomes cruisers in spite of our transient schedules. Once Yannie was cranked up, we pulled down the sails, and Shawn ran around like crazy attaching lines and fenders. Chris steered us into the harbor channel, and watched surfers carving up waves both to port and starboard. We pulled alongside a tire-lined temporary dock to check in. After some slow paperwork, we made our way into slip “107” whose owner is absent until mid-November. Our first “dock” tie-up since Mexico, we both realized that each harbor experience in Hawaii has been unique. Honolulu is its own universe. Originally serving the fishing fleet of Honolulu, Kewalo Basin is now open for commercial and private use. Despite the change in use, no upgrades have been made to the docks; therefore, the fixed dock that we were assigned is more appropriate for a 100-ft vessel with much more freeboard than Tao. Still, we’ve made it home, tying dock lines from all four corners of Tao and adding chafe gear where necessary. We are especially grateful to have found space just days prior to the beginning of APEC (Asian-Pacific Economic Cooperation). This meeting of economic leaders from 21 Pacific Rim countries, including President Obama, will lock the city down with everyone on high alert and several maritime closures.

We hoped to accomplish only a few things while in Honolulu. At the top of the list was to visit Chris’ grandmother, Margie. Since here, we have been visiting her near daily at Arcadia, the retirement home that she and Chris’ grandfather moved to in 1997. As an added bonus, our surprise visit overlapped with Chris’ uncle Peter and his wife Andrea’s. We enjoyed visiting with them (tours of Punahou School, Manoa Valley, Lyon Arboretum, and the Outrigger Canoe Club), and with their help, we managed to get Grandma down to Kewalo Basin Harbor for a pleasant visit to Tao! Although we planned the visit for high tide, the distance from the dock to the boat and negotiating our life-lines required too much acrobatics for her 93-yr old body. Andrea cleverly found a 5-gal bucket for a seat on the thin dock finger and we supplied one of our Hilo-purchased umbrellas to ward off the alternatively beating sun and “liquid sunshine” that arrived in waves. Margie and John had been avid sailors over the years and it was very special to share the boat that we sailed across the Pacific to get here.

We also visited Chris’ grandfather a few times at the Punchbowl, a national cemetery and now the resting place for thousands that is an amazing memorial to the sacrifices of those who have served in the Pacific. In addition, family friend Lynden (Dave's best friend from Punahou School) and wife Jackie took us on a tour of some Honolulu sites including the windy and historically significant Nuuanu Pali (cliff) overlooking Kaneohe Bay on the north side of the island and out for a nice dinner. We have taken classes at all 3 recognized Bikram Yoga studios on the island of Oahu; Honolulu, Nimitz, and North Shore. The first two are about a half hour bus ride from our boat, though unfortunately neither of them honor Shawn’s teaching certification. Therefore, frequent yoga classes for both of us get quite expensive unless we’re here long enough to get on the teaching schedule. The third was a 2-hr bus ride through the center of the island to the North Shore, an area renowned for its legendary big-wave surfing. We also checked out SW Oahu by bus and Chris has only to hop to the other side of the Kewalo Basin Park to catch some surf.

Chris managed to catch a cold here in populated paradise and the trade wind pattern is conspiring to keep us here a bit longer- neither favorable for us to leave in a timely fashion as we had planned. Sometimes we wonder why we try to plan. Our island exploration and visiting activities halted for the past few days for Chris to get better and we are currently making new plans as we watch the weather. The strong trade wind activity is forecasted for at least the next week. APEC is here next week so Waikiki and Kahe Point (two of the three real anchorages on the south side of Oahu) are closed to vessel traffic. Although we had planned to make a “quick” trip to Oahu, we are a bit boxed in. We might attempt to brave our way around the E edge of Oahu and up to Kaneohe Bay, or alternatively spend a few more days here and then work our way along the protected SW edge of Oahu (a bit reminiscent of the Kona coast on the Big Island), or maybe just stay in this safe harbor until the weather is favorable for a comfortable eastward Kaiwi Channel crossing. We hope to at least round the island via the amazing bus system here, possibly teach some yoga, and definitely continue to visit Chris’ grandmother to name a few ideas. There is always plenty of interest to do, just don’t expect a straight or short answer when you ask us what our plans are.

(thanks for the nice photo Andrea!)

Magical Moloka'i and Big News

2011-10-29T01:59:00.000-07:00

Having prepared the boat for passage and celebrated with homemade pizzas the evening before, we woke at 0200 on Tuesday October 18 ready to cross the Pailolo Channel. After organizing and firing up the GPS/AIS we were about to weigh anchor when we noted 2 tugs with tow entering the south end of the Pailolo heading our way. We waited about a half hour to allow them plenty of time to pass ahead of us, then pulled Rocky aboard and were underway with Yannie by 0330. Not sure how wet this passage would be, Chris disconnected the anchor from the chain and put our teak plug in the haus pipe as Shawn steered us away from Honolua under the star-filled sky and quarter moon. Up went the storm jib followed by the double reefed mains’l and we were again plowing along quietly under sail. Across the approximately 10-nm of the head of the Pailolo channel we saw ENE winds 10-15 knots and seas from the NE about 5-ft. Overall, the winds were lighter and seas were rougher than our passage across the Alenuihaha Channel, albeit much shorter.

A mere 3-hrs later, we passed a little island, Mokuho’oniki and promptly rounded Cape Halawa, the NE edge of Moloka’i. As the sun rose lighting the stark steep 2K-ft vertical green cliffs of windward Moloka’i, out of the misty clouds shrouding the 4K-ft inland peaks, Papalaua Falls appeared raging from the top of the cliffs for 1K-ft freefall. Reminding us where the water comes from, a squall down-poured on us, but quickly passed leaving amazing rainbows in its wake. Once out of the channel completely, winds relaxed and we put up the full main. We could have used more sail area forward, but didn’t want to rush, instead preferred slowly jibing our way along this magnificent sun-dappled coastline with the camera working overtime. With these steep cliffs on the rough windward side of the island, nearly continually being barraged with NE tradewinds and seas, anchorage possibilities were few and mostly rocky and steep-to (from too deep to too shallow). After about 11-nm of stunning coastline, we did pull in behind Pahu Point in hopes of finding a safe spot to drop the hook in this dramatic setting. Though beautiful, it was not quite safe enough for us in the current conditions to stay for the night, so we gaped, took pictures, and even spied a running waterfall tucked amongst the steep rocky slopes and continued on the last couple miles to our intended anchorage.

Just before noon 2-nm later, we past between Mokapu and Okala Islands, skirted behind Okala to the base of Waikolu drainage, and anchored behind steep cliffs in 25-ft of revered sand. Safely settled in this awe-inspiring, almost surreal place at the base of steep green cliffs reported to have been filmed in the opening scene of the movie “Jurrasic Park,” we sat back to observe the winds, seas, clouds, and sun as the day continued on. After a much needed nap we swam ashore to explore the floodplain and found guavas growing wild and a freshwater spring that had obviously been harnessed for human use at some point long past. We took a walk along what we dubbed as “the cliffs of insanity” as they seemed endless and overhung forming this rugged coast line. Magnificent!

The next morning, Wednesday October 19th, after a relaxing cup-o-tea surrounded by prehistoric-looking cliffs shrouded in misty clouds, we decided on our day’s adventure. We launched Fatty and loaded up with sailing rig, snorkel gear, and food and water for a journey a couple miles back east up the coast to the waterfall we had spotted on the previous day's sail. As the clouds menaced, Chris happily rowed us the arduous miles upwind and into the swell until we reached the waterfall. After watching the ocean crash into the shore, we chose to anchor Fatty off shore and swam through the surf onto the large cobble beach where a 40-ft freshwater falls, fringed with plants clinging to the cliffs, plunged into a pool and then ran over the boulders into the ocean.

We spent all day enjoying the jet of fresh water (not too much to get under, but close) shooting out of a nook in the rocks to fall into the small pool of cold fresh water. Birds were nested in the steep surrounding cliffs, tropical fish abounded just off shore, edible kukui nuts (from the Hawaiian state tree are viewed as a symbol of enlightenment, protection, and peace) similar to Brazil nuts were even deposited at the base of the falls. The sun poked through the clouds all day and we chased its rays across the beach as they fell sparingly through the slot canyon above. Just gorgeous! Alone with each other and nature, we felt very remote and moved by the spectacular scene; two ecosystems colliding, where fresh water mixes with salty sea. It was in this mystical and romantic place that Chris surprised Shawn when he pulled out a diamond ring and proposed... Yes, after 10-years, we are ENGAGED!!! Afterward, we had a rowdy downwind sail in Fatty home to Tao (with winds gusting 10-12 and 5-ft seas!), and we shared the news with Grizzly who seemed pretty ho-hum about it. We celebrated talking for hours over a bottle of Mexican white wine, watching the sun set and stars come out unhindered by any human lights, and still can’t think of a more perfect place to have spent this special time than in the isolation and beauty of the windward side of Moloka’i.

Time keeps marching on and we had to keep moving westward to stay ahead of the weather. After having spent two blissful nights at the Okala Island anchorage, we weighed anchor around noon on the 20th and enjoyed a quick sail in NE 15+ winds and 3-ft seas around the Kalaupapa Peninsula. After first anchoring in what turned out to be rocky sand, we implemented a new technique: Chris swimming until he found a good size sandy patch and Shawn motoring to it, then marking the point and dropping Rocky while Chris watched the anchor fall to the ground and finally dig in as Shawn reversed to set it. Works well in warmish clear water! We enjoyed the views from Tao since prior permission is required to set foot on the Kalaupapa Peninsula. This isolated community, which has access to the rest of the world only via an extremely steep mule trail or plane, has an extraordinary and tragic history as a former leper colony of which a few patients remain today. It is from this secluded anchorage that we sent out a shipboard e-mail to family announcing our engagement.

The next morning we weighed anchor around 0915 as the first few puffs of wind made it over the peninsula and we set our 80% jib for a downwind sail. No sooner had we gotten underway when an angry looking squall caught up, surrounded us in cloud, and dumped rain over us. We set Moni on the helm, buttoned up the boat and hid in the dry below decks while Tao got a freshwater rinse. An hour later the normal tradewinds filled in and it felt just like another day on the crossing- the only difference, the windward side of beautiful Moloka’i always within view to port. A little after 1300 we rounded the NW edge of Moloka’i and entered the Papohaku Roadstead behind ‘Ilio Point. This western edge is still quite remote with only one well hidden resort in the middle. We decided to stay N in the bay and anchored in a medium sized strip of sand off a little beach called Kawakiu Iki (“little spy place”). A late afternoon row to shore in Fatty and we found it to be a gorgeous coarse white sand beach lined with Kaiwi trees above waterline, lava edges along each side, and an exquisite reef with exposed tidal pools at the north end of the little bay. It was a speedy downwind trip back to Tao with a backdrop of beautiful cumulus clouds and sunset mostly hiding the form of Oahu a mere 30-nm across the Kaiwi Channel.

Saturday morning the 22nd, we reached a decision point. Are we going to make the extra Channel crossings to get Tao to Oahu or start our circle back eastward? A large NW swell was predicted, so pushing off the decision for a couple of days, we decided to make our way to Lono Harbor at the SW end of Moloka’i in the calm before the swell. A quick 2.5-hr motorboat ride over extremely clear waters (6-nm S along the west end then 3-nm E along the southern coast) with only a moment of discomfort rounding La’au Point over Penguin Bank, we found ourselves along in the wondrous safety of Hale-o-Lono Harbor. Originally created for barges to move sand and gravel from Molokai to Oahu, this practice was banned in 1975. Since then the harbor is more peaceful for cruisers, but has fallen into disrepair. It felt like the tiny isolated harbor, with two long breakwall fingers had been created just for us. As predicted, the next morning the NW swell rolled in and wrapped around the corner of Moloka’i to make the entrance to Lono Harbor a little bit scary. We spent 3-days here, relaxing, baking, fixing the dinged surfboard, hiking to try to find a spot of cell service, talking about how we were going to share our exciting news with all our far away friends, and overall preparing for another crossing, this time Oahu-bound.

Maui's West Coast: Lahaina to Honolua

2011-10-21T21:53:00.000-07:00

We ended up spending 11-days in Lahaina Small Boat Harbor. Chris milked the S swell surf while it was there. We actually implemented a boat project (one of the first since crossing over) when we decided to utilize the days not using the anchor to protect our chain with a layer of rust proofing cold galvanization (basically spray painting several coats). We did a week straight of yoga at Bikram Yoga Lahaina, visited one of the owners, Jessica Tepora, whom Shawn went to teacher training with, and Shawn even taught a couple classes. We rode the bus around most of the island, amazingly only $2 for an unlimited ride daily pass! We made it a mission to get to the windward side of the island, home of the world famous surf break “Jaws” as well as Bikram Yoga Kahului another very welcoming studio. We traveled all the way to Haiku, and checked out the Kahului Harbor stopping long enough to watch rainbows pop over docked cruise ships on our way back to the bus and home to Lahaina. Another day we took the bus to its terminus along the west side of Maui, with a stop on the way home to provision at the local Safeway. We did not make it to the mountainous, Haleakela, or Hana side though we still have hope of possibly visiting when we next pass Maui.

Our time in Lahaina Small Boat Harbor drew to a close as the south swell had diminished and the boat that lives in our slip was returning. We untied the dock lines early October 14 and with no pre-dawn wind, motored out of the harbor and around the W end of Maui toward the windward side of the island. We watched a squall march down the Pailolo Channel toward us, bringing rain then culminating in a full rainbow connecting the islands of Moloka’i and Lanai. Our hoped for destination was Honolua Bay on the NW edge of Maui, just under 10-nm from Lahaina. With no wind still at this early hour, we continued to motor. Only 1-nm to go to reach the foretold protection of Honolua Bay when the seas jacked up and became rough as the currents of the Pailolo and Auau Channels collided around Hawea Point. We were prepared to turn back, though it would have been quite frustrating. Swell was up from the N and the anchorage waypoint we were ever-so-slowly making our way toward appeared from our perspective an open and exposed to predominant wind and seas. Still, we pushed on, and as we motored past the world class surf break, we finally reached the protected paradise that so many people had described. We were welcomed into the anchorage by a turtle, the first of many.

Honolua was the first time Shawn had ever seen 4 people riding 4 perfect waves at the same moment. “That’s a point break for you,” was all Chris said, though he was having trouble focusing on anchoring while drooling over set after perfect set rolling in. Luckily Chris hurried out into the surf because it was the best our first day there. This amazing bay has the world renowned point break on the northern point, a gorgeous reef from the north to the center of the bay, then a huge patch of sand on the southern half making anchorage perfect for safety and ease of paddling into the surf. One of the four days had no surf at all so we spent it snorkeling and watching the spinner dolphin shows, crowds of cars lining the cliff checking the surf, catamarans motoring in and out with their boatloads of snorkeling tourists, and the entrance to the lumpy-looking Pailolo Channel from our safe spot. Chris' final surf session was exciting when he was first visited by an endangered monk seal and soon after his leash snapped allowing his board to make its way to the rocky shore. A board in need of repairs and a lull in the winds/swell ushered us to the next leg in our journey. We grabbed the chance to cross the Pailolo and visit the rarely glimpsed windward side of Moloka’i.

South Maui: Anchorages and Weather

2011-10-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

With the mountainous lobes of Maui, Kaho'olawe, Lani, Molokini, and Molokai visible, views in every direction are each spectacular and distinct. We are surrounded by beautiful landscapes and ever-changing weather conditions as the light, clouds and winds change seemingly by the minute. Thus, it is no surprise that we have been closely observing the weather patterns since we arrived in Maui. Although the predominate winds are NE in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the land masses we're near create their own weather systems and since here in Maui, we have yet to sail in NE conditions. Winds appear to “bend” along land forms and have come from every direction sometimes suddenly and without warning.

Ignore this paragraph unless you want specific descriptions of winds... At the SE anchorages, winds were from the E and N as the NE was quite blocked by Haleakela. Through "the saddle", the low-lying connection between Haleakela and Maui’s western and older volcano Mauna Kahalawai, the NE trade-winds are funneled and accelerate, creating strong N winds each afternoon down Ma’alaea Bay directly into Molokini. On the SE side of Ma’alaea Bay the cindercone Pu’u Ola’i creates decent wind protection at Big Beach, though the wind and swells that travel down the bay bend around the cindercone during the afternoon making it a bit rolly (note that it does mellow out over night for comfortable sleeping). Just W of Ma’alaea, shadowed by the West Maui Mountains, winds are completely different. For the most part, we experienced W winds until far enough around Maui’s W side where N winds resume in the Pailolo Channel as the NE trades bend around the north end of Maui... Regardless, we've found several safe, comfortable and beautiful anchorages along the south side of Maui and we are indeed glad to have brought the flopper stopper (roll stabilizer at anchor).

La Perouse. We spent 3 nights here watching amazing stars, Jupiter and sunrises and sunsets. La Perouse Bay has Haleakela to its E, is surrounded by lava to the N and S, and has stunning views of Kaho'olawe to the W. We enjoyed crashing waves on black and white lava and coral studded beach, a’a lava plus columnar jointing on the cliffs providing us shelter, a hike to the lighthouse and the King’s Trail with goats, sailing Fatty at its limit (really just too gusty for comfort), and joining spinner dolphins at the other end of the bay in Nature Preserve.

Big Beach. Just around the corner from La Perouse, Oneloa, more commonly known as “Big Beach”, is just that: a huge white sand beach with the foothills of Haleakela looming overhead with rainbows and clouds. We enjoyed views of Molokini and Kaho'olawe and Chris stumbled upon a clothing optional enclave at the N end of the beach. We spent a whole day here meeting Bay Area friends Marie and Laura who were on the island visiting family. They whisked us inshore and shared a little bit of an otherwise inaccessible-to-us inland trip to the beautiful Iao Valley as well as a stop at their condo for ice cold drinks, fruit and boiling hot freshwater showers and a delightful Indian lunch. It was very special to cross paths with them all the way out here in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Molokini. A remnant crater a mere 2-nm from Big Beach, this world class snorkel and dive site, is a Marine Preserve to 180-ft and the island itself a bird sanctuary where frigates abound. On our first attempt to get there we sailed out of La Perouse on slight early morning winds and finally engaged Yannie for the final approach. After slowly motoring around the deep south edge of the island, we found one of the state provided first-come-first-serve moorings on the E side of the crescent moon shaped bay just before 1100. Luckily we hopped in quickly because a mere hour later, the perfectly flat calm sunny and boat filled crater had been vacated by all the commercial charter boats and filled with swells that had rolled down from Ma’alaela Bay from winds blowing through the saddle in Maui. This made the previously placid area not only uncomfortable, but dangerous, so we quickly made haste out of the crater. No wonder all of the commercial boats had mysteriously disappeared around the time we got there… Not deterred, we just decided to make a focused motor boat trip of it for a second attempt as the winds just don't fill in early enough to sail there before the afternoon pick up. On the first of October, not having been able to talk Marie and Laura into joining us, we were underway toward Molokini by 0645, moored on the W side of the crater and in the water by 0800. For the next hour and a half we marveled at the colorful coral forests and swam with schools of unafraid black trigger fish and innumerable other species. The highlight of this morning was snorkeling over the steep drop off outside edge of the crater to see larger pelagic fish and even a large ray. An underwater camera might have captured what words can not. Although we felt like we could stay there forever, knowing the winds would soon fill in from the direction we hoped to go, we got underway again to the west side of Maui.

McGregor Landing. 9-nm due N of Molokini and just west of the windy lane of Ma’alaela Bay is a protected little cove called McGregor Landing. The steep rocky cliffs that surround this anchorage and the green-brown land jutting up toward the West Maui Mountains are beautiful despite the 2-lane highway atop the cliffs filled at all hours with vehicles hurtling by and huge white wind generators further up the slope. We spent a comfortable night here and sailed off late morning to work our way NW along the coast. A nice light breeze filled in from the W and we did one big pleasant tack to our planned anchorage, Olowalu, surrounded by well developed reef. The moment we got there, however, winds suddenly began to howl menacingly through the mountains from the N creating quite a wind chop in addition to the forecast building S swell. With so much reef and no one big sandy patch, we decided to continue on along the coast. Another mile NW and we finally dropped the hook at a roadstead anchorage dubbed Awalua Beach that gratefully was filled with a sandy bottom. After an hour of setting the primary and stern anchors (bow into the forecast S swell) as well as the flopper stopper, we sat back to watch the sun set, the swell build and enjoy a fresh baked pizza for our 10-year anniversary dinner (has a decade really already flown by?!).

Lahaina. Monday October 3, we sailed the last 4-nm to Lahaina. When we arrived, there was fortuitously space available in the small boat harbor (anchoring is not recommended due to only a shallow layer of sand over bedrock) so we decided to take advantage of its protection for the swell instead of the available moorings just outside the surf. With surfers swarming breaking waves to our port and starboard, we made our way in through the small channel seeing depths drop alarmingly to 6-ft and a shipwrecked sailboat just to port before we made it inside the breakwall. After a quick stop in the luckily vacant Lahaina-Maui ferry side-tie to check into the harbor office, we capitalized on the momentary slack winds and squeezed our way into the open space that somehow fits a powerboat larger than us. Once safely Med-tied (Tahiti-style) with our stern to the dock we watched how the continuous surge moved Tao and her sailboat neighbors and hung every fender we had. Since then, the S swell, one of the last of the summer seasons, has been breaking just outside the breakwall and has been loads of fun for Chris to surf. It is refreshing to find that here in Lahaina in the small boat harbor (as well as on the outer moorings and just north at Mala Wharf) there are several sailors. Though quite touristy, the main drag, Front Street, is close and most importantly, we can walk to Bikram Yoga Lahaina. We plan to spend a week here surging with the tidal changes in the harbor as the moon waxes toward full, enjoying the surf off our back porch and yoga just up the road, re-provision and then weather permitting, continue on up along Maui’s W coast.

Across the Alenuihaha

2011-09-29T09:49:00.000-07:00

After more than a month of respite and land life in Honokohau Harbor, it was a bit difficult to motivate to throw off the mooring lines again. But after a week of provisioning and monitoring the weather forecasts closely, early on Friday the 23rd we finally broke free. At the mouth of the harbor we again med-tied to top off our fuel tanks and after exiting the harbor were under sail again. Not too far out we were welcomed back to the swell. Around Keahole Point (Kona airport and the most western point on the Big Island) seas were quite mixed, short period and generally uncomfortable, but a few miles N, when we neared Makalawena, seas calmed a bit and from there we pleasantly jibed our way up the coast. A bit over 4-hrs and 17-nm later, we sailed into beautiful Kiholo Bay. Many thanks to Peter McCormick (m/v Hopena, our neighbor in Honokohau Harbor) for sharing his local knowledge about this gem of an anchorage. When we got there, we realized that our definition of good anchoring sand patch was indeed the same as Peter's, and we happily dropped the hook and watched the sun sink down below the horizon.

After a refreshing night on the hook- we awoke to another day in paradise. Sunny but no wind, over our morning cup-o-tea, we watched as the previously empty black sand beach began to fill with colorful canoes and paddle boards. Eager to get underway we prepped to sail as the small craft swarmed Tao. As a small onshore breeze filled in just before 1000, we sailed off the anchor just moments before nearly 100 standup (SUP) paddlers pushed off on an 8 mile paddle race along the coast. We raced them NE out of Kiholo Bay finally cutting across the front of them (possibly a little close) and aimed due N for Nishimura Bay. A pleasant steady 10-knot SW breeze filled in with no accompanying seas and we zoomed across the outer edge of Kawaihae Bay. It was reminiscent of oh-so-long-ago sails across Santa Monica Bay and Banderas Bay and we savored every moment as we knew the following days crossing would be nothing like this.

As we approached the northern edge of Kawaihae Bay and could see whitecaps rolling down the Alenuihaha Channel, we brought down both sails and fired up Yannie for the final approach. Just after tying up the 100% jib, we were greeted by 20-knot NE winds funneling over the north end of the island. We reached Nishimura nice and early and Rocky was set before 1500 providing us plenty of time for final preparations for the crossing. This included: engine check for air and oil, reducing the foresail, running jack lines and checking all on deck tie downs, testing the EPIRB battery and topping off abandon ship kit, creating a basic cruise track in Costal Explorer, another list of last moment morning tasks, food prep and get to bed to catch some zzz’s before our 0330 wake up call.

Sunday morning the 25th the forecast called for 10-kt E winds veering south in the afternoon, wind waves 3-ft in the morning then 2-ft or less, and N swell 4-ft. What we actually saw was sustained 15-knot winds from the NE gusting to 20+, with 4 to 5-ft seas at 4-seconds. After much debate, we ran with our triple reefed main and our storm jib (approximately 25% of the foretriangle area which we've now lovingly nicknamed knick-named “the potato chip”) and saw speeds between 4.7 and 6.3 knots throughout the 30-nm crossing. It felt a little like we were on passage to Hawaii again only we could actually see land. Before our trip, we had heard the full gamut of horror stories about crossing the Alenuihaha Channel; from mostly bad to downright ugly. Maybe it's because we planned carefully for a good window, maybe it's because we were conservatively rigged, or maybe it was just luck, but we are grateful to have had a spectacular crossing experience. Over the 6+ hour passage we watched: a sliver of a moon and Orion before fading into the sun rise over the northern edge of the Big Island (Upolo Point), the Big Island (Mauna Kea and the Kohola Mountains) receding, and Maui (Haleakela) becoming clearer and clearer.

In addition to the gift of safe passage weather from the gods, we were able to comfortably point high enough to make Nu'u Landing (an unbelievably gorgeous spot on the unpopulated SE edge of Maui) with winds a bit above the beam. Thus, we sailed a solid 30-degrees higher into the wind than we had originally planned. We cruised into the stunning little bite just before noon and decided to drop the hook and check it out. Though at first it seemed a bit small and quite close to the channel, the well placed lava flow had created a perfect fetch break and a place for an eddy to form which had filled with extremely fine black sand. Nestled at the base of the majestic volcano, Haleakela, with the channel winds still howling just outside our personal lava finger, we celebrated an amazing crossing. Although safe in relaxed trade winds, we still felt a bit exposed on the edge of the Alenuihaha, so planned to stay one night. With only a short time here, though we were tired, we motivated for a surreal swim into shore and a walk along the a’a lava and the cobble beach that formed our safe haven on Maui. Magnificent, if you ever have a chance to visit this anchorage, grab it!

The next day, Monday 26th forecast a slight increase in trade-winds so we continued on west and completely out of the channel. After a 14-mile downwind “sled” ride (reminiscent of one of our early cruising sails down the coast of Santa Cruz Island in which we first noted how impossible it would be to sail the other direction), we made it to La Perouse Bay on the SE side of Maui. Finally securely across and out of the Alenuihaha Channel completely, we'll recover here and figure out how we're going to spend the next several weeks sailing around islands other than the Big Island. As we move, we'll continue to update our cruise track position reports and we'll get more blog updates posted with pictures as we can.

Eddied out in Honokohau

2011-09-11T21:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the blog silence, we’ve been quite busy for the past several weeks. It’s more difficult than you might imagine living with one foot aboard and one foot ashore. The days and weeks fly by when dockside. Sunrises and sunsets pass by barely noticed. Priorities shift. Tied up to land in a safe harbor, no longer constantly vigilant, we relax and recover. And we enjoy things that come along with being attached to land; markets with fresh food (with names like star fruit, lilikoi, and dragon fruit), restaurants, laundry facilities, trips to multiple surf spots, and most repeatedly, yoga. Shawn has been teaching once a week and we have been enjoying Bikram Yoga Kona immensely having felt fully welcomed by its community.

As you may have surmised, we're still on the Big Island. Family friend Kanoa lent us his well loved Toyota truck to kick around in for a week. It was great, we felt like a local driving around in it and he’s lucky we’re on an island or Chris might have just driven off into the sunset with it. We explored a circle on shore from Kona along the ocean to Waikaloa, Puako, Kawaihae and up to Waimea in the mountains then back down to Kona via the high road. We’ve gotten eddied out a little bit imagining possibilities of transitioning to land and spending several years here (opening a yoga studio, getting certified to teach high school, etc…). Although we are still here and have plans to stay for the next week (how long have we been saying that?), we continue to hold onto the plan of throwing off the mooring lines during the next reduced trade wind window to cross the Alenuihaha Channel to Maui.

Since we’re moving so slowly, we decided a trip to Honolulu was in order to see Chris’ grandmother who has anxiously awaited our arrival since we landed in Hawaii in June. So Chris caught a flight (inter-island flights are a pretty normal occurrence here) from Kona to Oahu. It was an emotional 3-day visit in which they were able to have great discussions and also went to pay respects to Chris’ grandfather who passed away just under a year ago. It was very special to Chris to get to spend some quality time there and we both hope to visit her again soon whenever we finally sail to Oahu.

While we’ve been here in Honokohau Harbor a couple things have died. Most sadly, a huge turtle marked #116 (from years of observation) drowned after getting hooked in some fishing line. If you look closely in this photo, you can see some filament coming out of its mouth. Once we realized this, pictures stopped and closer inspection showed a hook trailing behind. As it is a federal offense to be closer than 20-ft to one of these turtles (Shawn stopped Chris from jumping in and cutting away fishing line), we immediately reported it to nearby Aquatic Resources Services. Unfortunately, the hook snagged onto one of the mooring chains on the harbor bottom before they were able to catch up to it and get it unentangled…

Most difficult for our daily sailing life, our NorCold refrigerator died. Another example of you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. After doing several tests that pointed to complete cooling unit failure and then getting the run around for a part number price it became obvious that a whole new refrigerator was more cost effective (insert grumble about our wasteful society here). Replacing with a new NorCold unit (which we purchased in 2005 for $490) is now a ridiculous $750. We momentarily thought about going back to cruising without refrigeration, but realized that we’ve gotten used to having minimal refrigeration and it would really reduce our basic daily enjoyment of life (mostly having cold soy milk in the morning cup of tea for Shawn) so quickly scratched that idea. From there we narrowed it down the requirements being a DC compatible unit and a cool space (we’ve never had a freezer). Our options ranged from the basic easy to install and also inefficient “Koolatron,” barely more than an ice chest at $120, to our dream system of a super efficient “Engel” at $1000 plus a much larger installation project. Since we’re currently in this possible-transition-to-land frame of mind, we chose the inexpensive easy basic option to hold us over for at least the next few months. We’ll let you know how it goes…

And to top it off, Chris' first night away to Oahu, our main shipboard computer got drenched via a midnight downpour dripping in through the closed but untightened porthole over the navigation station. Amid the visit with his grandmother, he also fielded frantic calls from Shawn trying to resuscitate it. Chris was very calm (though he might not have been had he seen water rushing out of the keyboard when it was first moved). After finally finding the small screwdrivers, Shawn removed the battery, then removed the panels she could from the bottom of the computer and placed it outside in the sun in hour long increments of heating and then cooling all throughout the day. The next day was rainy so she had a fan blowing on it throughout. That night when Chris returned home we attempted to start it up together and amazingly it fired right up and since we've found no obvious issues. We count ourselves very lucky and also are reminded to back everything up more frequently!!

Having stayed here longer than expected does have its benefits- yesterday our Hilo friends Amanda and Jeremy and their two boys happened by the harbor and by chance spotted us. We spent the rest of the day with them. First showing Jayden (7) and Mykah (5) the boat, which they immediately turned into a jungle gym (it would have been impossible to clean enough for their visit had we known they were coming as the boys wanted to look in all the cupboards, the bilges and even the engine, lol!!). We took a walk to the nearby park in search of more turtles and caught a spectacular sunset then had another amazingly cultural experience when we accompanied them to the Micronesian 1-year birthday party they had come to town for, which happened to be given at a space right next to the harbor (Jeremy hails from a small Micronesian island called Fais near Yap). It was very festive with large amounts of extended family present, the younger generation performed dances and music, while everyone else talked and consumed amazing traditional food.

Whenever we actually get underway again, over the next few weeks we’ll be making some big decisions, so send some good energy our way and we’ll keep you all posted as soon as any actual decisions have been made.

Sailing the Kona Coast

2011-08-20T18:15:00.000-07:00

Many sailors complain of not enough wind along the west side of the Big Island. However, we have enormously enjoyed the Kona Coast likely because Tao is a very responsive light air cruising sailboat and we have kept an open schedule (i.e. we're okay with moving slowly). No, there is not much wind, but the upside to that is that we are able to anchor in relatively open areas. And yes, we have had to use our engine more than ever before. Still, with patience we have thoroughly enjoyed slowly sailing down and back up this beautiful coastline over the past 3-weeks. Of course, we are not experts on the area, but what we observed was that south of Keahole Point (the Kona airport, or the beginning of the Kona Coast) currents and winds abruptly shifted. North of the airport, winds tended to be gusty and strong through the notch between Mauna Kea and the Kohala Mountains. From there, heading south along the island we tended to be sailing with light NW winds and a moderate current. During the evening winds would slacken and shift to light offshore until the sun came up and winds shifted back in a daily cycle. Coming back up the coast line, we tacked into the light winds and currents and with each tack toward shore were rewarded with up close (because depths were more than 400-ft a mere football field from the shore in many places) views of ancient lava flows that built this island. Yes, several days we were unable to make more than 10-nm, but relatively safe anchorages so close were welcome stops.

After slowly sailing off anchor in Honomolino Bay, we tacked our way up along the coast line for a relaxing 8-hr (just over 12-nm as the crow flies) light wind sail. As we drew closer to our goal, we were surprised to see another sailboat anchored in Kahuko Bay off Ho’okena. It turns out 'Uhane (Soul) is a trailerable 27-ft Vancouver and is being refitted at Honokohau Harbor. From sunset through dawn we enjoyed dark clouds and rainbow producing precipitation which was a nice change from the common hazy vog in this area and reminded us hurricane season in Hawaii is in full effect. In the morning we went for a hike along the cliffs above Tao and stumbled across an entrance to the lava tube we saw from the water. We feel fortunate that we were able to explore this incredible geological and cultural wonder.

Yet another small world story to report. While in Ho’okena we were returning to Tao from snorkeling, when two snorkelers appeared along side. After chatting a moment and inviting them aboard it turns out the woman, Mari, just finished a hatha yoga teacher training based in Ho’okena (Hale Kai) and the man, Daniel, was our yoga friend Elizabeth(who we visited in Kealakakua Bay)’s research advisor at CIIS. We also met the owner of Hale Kai, Deborah as she snorkeled past and finally her husband David when we made our way to their property when we were again anchored in Kahuko Bay on our way back up the coast. Deb, David and Mari kindly spent a whole afternoon with us showing us around their Bali-style, ocean front, off-the-grid property with open air circular yoga space in the middle surrounded by an abundance of fruiting and flowering trees. They generously invited us to stay for dinner and the next morning we offered them all the opportunity to sail with us 6-nm up the coast to Kealakakua Bay. We were pleasantly surprised when all 3 of them made space in their day to join us.

It turned out to be an amazingly perfect day. The three of them snorkeled out to Tao from the Ho’okena Beach and Chris ferried their gear in Fatty. The winds were quite light, but the 5 of us (and Griz of course) were all appreciative to be able to share such a beautiful day on the water. It was exciting for us to have crew aboard to share this adventure with. David, a lifelong outdoor adventure photographer, took some shots of us sailing off anchor (we’re excited to see them), Deb valiantly fighting motion sickness showed us all sorts of yoga poses we could do on deck, and Mari, a natural sailor, spent much time at the helm learning and also managed to make pizzas from dough Shawn had started early in the sail. As the sun set, we sailed onto the hook in now semi-familiar Kealakakua Bay. We turned on Yannie to set the stern anchor to keep us safe from damaging any coral and enjoyed Mari’s pizzas by candlelight as the sun dipped below the horizon and stars and phosphorescence came out.

We passed the next day relaxing in the sunny, clear (you can see coral 30-ft below us clearly through the water) and much calmer Kealakakua Bay and again visited our friend Elizabeth for a yummy lunch after which Chris performed the manly task of hanging several things in her newly painted space. The following day we felt it was time to continue north and ever so slowly made our way up the coast. When we called to check in, Honokohau Harbor informed us that there were no available spaces. This deflated both of us as we had been looking forward to some relaxation in a safe harbor, but grateful that alternative safe (though admittedly less comfortable) anchorage was reachable, we set our course for Kailua Bay. Just before we reached it, we tried the harbor one more time to check for availability and by miracle a space had opened up, so we high tailed it the extra 3-nm and Chris did more amazing acrobatic feats with Tao and Yannie to get us safely med-tied once again. With a sigh of relief at the lack of motion, we took ourselves out for dinner at the harbor restaurant and then slept hard. We plan to be here for another week or so, recovering, doing yoga, surfing (Chris has already gone out once with the folks from Hale Kai) and re-organizing for making the committing jump across the Alenuihaha Channel; portal to the rest of the Hawaiian Islands.

Big Island Bliss: Ho'okena, Honomolino, Okoe

2011-08-13T16:27:00.000-07:00

After leaving Kealakekua Bay, we had a relatively slow sail in light winds. We decided to check into Honaunau (aka Two Step), a well known snorkeling venue and home to the now historical park of the restored “City of Refuge,” sanctuary for Hawaiians in trouble since the 16th century. Although it looked beautiful, tons of people swarmed the beaches and waters. As we found only the tiniest spot of sand for an anchor, we decided to continue south. 3-nm later in Kauhako Bay and the town of Ho’okena, we were greeted by spinner dolphins (who use the large sandy area as a resting ground) jumping in welcome. The biggest sandy area yet, we happily set both our bow and stern anchor with bow heading west toward the incoming swell and our stern facing the protective cliffs. After the sun set we enjoyed the “air conditioning” as the offshore breezes funneled right into our boat throughout each night.

This small fishing town with no electricity was the main shipping port until WWII when the road connecting the Kona Coast to Hilo was completed. Now, the beach park is crowded with families during the day and permitted campers at night. We spent several days here mostly in the water with sunny days and clear water creating amazing snorkeling visibility (100-ft!). Ho’okena, which means “to satisfy thirst” was interesting snorkeling with fresh and salt water mixing plus sand, coral, lava, rays, fish of every variety and size, and even a lava tube high up on the surrounding cliff, visible from the water. We also spent one day, termed “Apacolypto” by Chris, relaxing aboard as Chris fought a stomach bug.

Still seeking isolated anchorage, we continued south another 12.3-nm to Honomolino Bay (approximately 25-nm north of South Point). Paradise found. Nearly deserted, reef-protected, palm tree filled bay with a big sandy area for anchoring in the center, clear water filled around the edges with forests of coral, and stark lava at the shoreline creating natural bridges dotted with a few mostly boarded up vacation homes. Snorkeling between coral heads we even met the resident white-tipped-reef-shark who was just as scared to see us as we were to see him. That drove us (mostly by Shawn’s urges) out of the water for a bit and we sailed Fatty a mile or so up the coast to just off the little town of Miloli’i, supposedly the last remaining traditional fishing village in Hawaii. We spent another entire day sailing approximately 2-nm down the coast along an amazing Aa lava flow to neighboring Okoe Bay. Both Honomolino and Okoe are fine grey-black sand beaches and were heavily impacted by the Japan tsunami this past spring. Honomolino’s coconut lined beach was stripped of much sand and the forest reorganized, while the solitary home at the north end of Okoe Bay was completely pulled from its supports. As everywhere else, the clean up efforts have left manmade debris nearly impossible to find, but the substantial natural changes are still obvious.

Initially we were drawn to the south end of the bay by an interesting black and white beach of coral and lava. Tying up the sail and pulling out the oars, we rowed past a breaking wave into 360-degree lava protection for Fatty. Turns out we literally stumbled into a historical wilderness area. On shore we found stands of coconut trees heavy with ripe coconuts. Following what looked like a road in the lava-coral beach we past an intact Ancient Hawaiian sled run, then further on water sources and stone work and finally a trail system through the unforgiving lava fields. As we wound back, we noted even more trails, some of them “cobbled” with large coral stepping stones. It was a very spiritual, magical, enchanting area, and upon returning to internet, quite difficult to find information on.

As the afternoon was getting late, we sailed back to the north end of Okoe Bay and tied up for a few moments to a tiny underwater mooring we found so we could snorkel a bit around the bay. We walked on the beautiful black sand beach and marveled at the lack of what was obviously a home prior to the tsunami. Back in Fatty, with storm clouds menacing, we headed back toward Honomolino and Tao. Unfortunately, the threatening clouds actually followed through bringing an unexpected downpour and a slacking to no accompanying winds. We kept warm by rowing the rest of the way home, getting there just before sunset, we were pleasantly surprised that very little water had actually gotten in through our wide open hatches.

This gorgeous isolated area was food for our hungry souls and we recharged luxuriating in the sheer beauty of it all. We saw a relatively small number of people on the beach each day, hiked around the lava caves and did more snorkeling among the lava statues and through underwater bridges. Always the adventurer, Chris got some especially amazing views and also a little kiss from the coral on his calf which will keep him out of the water for several days to allow healing. Although we feel like we could stay here forever, we are excited also to see the rest of the islands, so with no more known welcoming anchorages to the south, we've started our northward movement.

Kailua-Kona and Kealakakua Bay

2011-08-03T22:45:00.000-07:00

As always, we’re slowly adventuring along. After getting another chance to practice tying up med-style at the fuel dock amid the billfish tournament fish weighing, we quietly made our way out of Honokohau Harbor. Although it was only a few miles to our destination, Kailua-Kona, once out of the harbor, we put up the 80% jib in the light breeze and slowly made our way downwind in the right direction. As anchoring in Kailua Bay is a bit contentious, when we were close enough, we fired up Yannie to go in search of a suitable sand patch. Using the meager information gleaned from our guidebooks and the DLNR, we finally settled on the sandiest spot that we (Chris) could dive to and dropped the hook. As we were setting it, over speeds a power boat. Mark (who rents jetskis from a floating island in the middle of the bay) nicely (which we very much appreciated) informed us that we were in the “channel”. Not marked by any bouys, it is just common knowledge that the only nice strip of sand just outside of the reef was also off limits... However, he pointed us toward a spot we could anchor just barely outside of the cordoned swim lane (this is where the famous Kona Ironman Triathlon swim happens) and mentioned that possibly the parasail folks wouldn’t mind if we used their recently serviced mooring ball, one of the closest to the pier.

As we were pulling the anchor back aboard Chris waved the parasail boat, just heading out for a late afternoon session with customers, over. Jesse stopped by and was happy to let us use their mooring for the night (we’d read many of the mooring holders will happily let you use their moorings if not in use in order to protect the coral below). Usually we would much rather just set our anchor, but after perusing the available spot we’d been pointed toward and taking a GPS point of the best possible patch of sand, we decided to go with the mooring. Chris dove on it and found that all the shackles were in stellar condition so we set the flopper stopper and sat back to watch the bustling bay around us. People were everywhere; swimming, paddling outrigger canoes, aboard what must have been nearly the entire fleet of powerboats involved in the billfish tournament, and there was even a submarine there (we never got the story on that)! Happy with the mooring in the mild conditions, and so close to the pier we decided to go ashore for one last dinner out before the less inhabited southern Kona coast anchorages. We rowed Fatty ashore and tied him up using Jack’s Dive Shop’s nearly drowned dinghy’s mooring (on a previous trip to the pier from land we’d gotten the okay from one of their employees to tie up there). After a fruitless search for one of the several sushi restaurants in town, we watched the sun set and decided on a Chinese place as our hunger would wait no longer. Once back aboard, in the darkness the bright lights and loud music along Kona’s shoreline reminded us of several anchorages in Mexico. And when the wind vanished that night we experienced why many people don’t like this bay as we rolled around uncomfortably side to the incoming swell.

Not wanting to overstay our welcome on the mooring, after changing to our 100% jib for the light wind conditions in this area, late the next morning we sailed off the mooring and away from the busy city. The beautiful 11-nm light wind sail down the coast to Kealakakua Bay (aka Captain Cook’s Bay) took us several hours during which we watched motorized traffic zipping by all around us. In addition to catamarans power-sailing in and out of the bay we were headed for, we had to evasively maneuver to avoid a tiny power vessel waving frantically at us to go away but with no radio contact. We could only assume that in addition to their very poor boatmanship skills (as they did not respond to our repeated hails on the VHF trying to determine what their needs were) they had a fish on and were restricted in ability to maneuver. It looked like rain was imminent as we sailed into the picturesque bay with sheer cliffs on one side that we had hiked down 7-yrs ago and dreamed of sailing to. We were quite happy to find a huge patch of sand in the SE portion of the bay just off shore next to a moored outrigger canoe.

We have quite enjoyed this beautiful bay that Captain Cook found so many years ago and where he met his fateful end. It is off a tiny little town called Napo’opo’o apparently dominated by tourism. Each day hoards of tourists come to see the remains of the Hikiau Heiau (where human sacrifices were made) and rent sit-on-top kayaks to paddle (by our anchored boat) the mile across the bay to Ka’awaloa Cove, a Marine Conservation District at the NW end of the bay that houses Captain Cooks monument and world class snorkeling. Hoping to avoid what we thought might just be weekend crowds we decided to go for a sail in Fatty the other direction toward what we thought might be a surf break as we noticed the swell was picking up. Indeed a swell from the Tasman sea was coming in and by the time we got back to her, Tao was getting tossed around even with the flopper stopper and waves were more and more frequently exploding on the shore a mere 500-ft behind us. We discussed trying to find a spot to anchor further away from shore to avoid the waves refracted off the cliffs, but the sediment was kicked up and visibility so reduced we couldn’t even see the bottom below us any more. After listening to the weather radio and determining the swell was not forecast to increase much more, we decided to put out a stern anchor to keep us bow into the swell and be ready to leave if necessary.

That night our sleep was fitful, punctuated by exploding sets of waves reaching shore. Gratefully, the next morning the swell started to decrease as forecast. Still, it was a day full of exploding water and we noted several surf spots had materialized (including right off our port) and witnessed a double kayak flip and subsequent yard sale. We decided to spend the morning sailing over to the monument and enjoying the snorkeling, hoping there would be less traffic since it was no longer a weekend. We got there early enough to use one of the concrete slabs with a chain to tie Fatty to and enjoyed some amazing snorkeling with tons of fish swimming among thriving coral communities clinging to the steep underwater walls. However, when we got back to Fatty, we were quite overwhelmed by the number of tourists that kayaked in or were brought by motorized vessel for twice daily tours. We left much more quickly than we otherwise might have after Fairwinds (the motorized catamaran we had seen previously) grabbed the mooring ball next to us and all of its passengers (at least 100 person capacity) disembarked filling the already tourist-filled bay until it looked like little more than a community swimming pool.

It seems to be sunny here in the morning and then the clouds fill in falling from the steep cliffs each afternoon so we have been snorkeling from the boat each morning. Several times near Tao we have met a huge school of medium sized fish that travel in a large sphere (previously we’d only seen this animal behavior on one of the Blue Ocean DVD’s). We snorkeled to shore one day and hiked to the Keei surf break that we had previously sailed to in Fatty, and spent another day ashore visiting Elizabeth, a fellow Bikram yoga student that is living just inshore of Manini Beach on the S end of this bay (where 4 homes were washed away by a refraction wave off the cliffs caused by the Japan tsunami earlier this year). On shore there is much rebuilding happening and several cordoned crushed vehicles. When snorkeling the bright and varied coral reefs just off shore of this area, we noted several things likely deposited during the tsunami- most notably a double car seat! Though clouds tend to cover the sky for the afternoons, the sun has repeatedly broken through for gorgeous blood red (caused by the VOG escaping from the volcano) sunsets each night. Big thumbs up for this bay, it is comforting to know we can come back if no other sand patches are forthcoming as we continue south.

Honokohau and Yoga

2011-07-27T15:25:00.000-07:00

Honokohau Harbor, just 4 miles north of the well known Kailua-Kona, is a nice respite. Blasted out of solid rock, it is known as the safest place on the Big Island in heavy weather and also has the only haul out facility. Though created for commercial and fishing boats and lacking cruising amenities (no power hook up or showers and no permanent living aboard), it is wonderful that we can be here living aboard legally for 90-days per calendar year for super cheap (though we don’t yet know the exact price as they’re in a transition to an online system).

Our first day here we wandered around familiarizing ourselves with the immediate area. We asked lots of questions of Daniel, the DLNR Honokohau Harbor Master (it is not completely clear about regulations in certain areas, and everyone we talk seems to provide conflicting information, i.e. anchoring in Kawaihae…), the DAR (Department of Aquatic Resources), and Gentry Marine regarding hauling out and dry storage possibilities (there are currently 2 spaces available for a 33-ft boat). In search of a booklet the DLNR mentioned providing coordinates and information regarding the 175 free day use moorings around the islands (installed to reduce destruction of fragile coral) we found the marine hardware store and a surf shop that told us about a surf break within walking distance.

We meandered toward the surf break and stumbled into the Kaloko-Honokohau National Park (one of 3 on this side of the island). This park preserves the costal sections of two traditional ahupua’s (land divisions), each with sufficient resources to support its historical residents. Originally each division ran from the forested upper slopes of the volcano down through the lava flats all the way into the ocean and included ingeniously engineered fish traps, fish ponds, raised beds for crops and hand dug or natural anchialine ponds for drinking water. We walked a long loop starting at a beach just north of the harbor breakwall that had innumerable huge green sea turtles feeding placidly at the edge of the water then continued on along the coast past the surf break and finally to the recently restored Kaloko fishpond. The wall that separates the ocean and brackish water pond is amazing and the artistic masonry work, without the aid of cement, was described as “listening to where the rock wants to be”. From here we headed inland and walked a restored portion of The Kings Highway to the Visitor’s Center. We continued onward to close the loop home and stumbled on a boardwalk with a self tour booklet describing a multitude of enchanting petroglyphs and made it back to the beach we started from in time to watch the sunset over the turtles.

(Can you see the two figures in the left picture?)

Originally, we had planned to spend a few days in this area by taking a mooring in Kona Bay, but have been told they are all now privately owned and the DLNR manager of that bay to ask about availability is on vacation until next week. On the upside, Daniel told us we are indeed allowed to anchor there and not required to take a mooring as we had thought. So, our second day we decided to find our way into Kona to scope out the scene (although there is no bus here, we’ve found it relatively easy to hitch a ride from here into town and a bit more difficult to find a ride back). Kona feels a bit bigger than Hilo and in our wanders we found several grocery options (including our preferred KTA with good poke selection) and made our way to the pier, off which we plan to anchor. The cruise ship that is in port in Hilo on Tuesdays apparently makes it way to anchor off Kona on Wednesdays, which it happened to be, and the pier and waterfront were filled with tourists so we wonder what it looks like the rest of the week. Since we were in town, we searched out Bikram Yoga Kona, the only Bikram studio on the Big Island and took a 5pm class, our first in 8 months! It felt incredible; both of us have been missing exercise aboard and we are searching for a way to practice more yoga in this cruising mode. One of our (or at least Shawn’s) goals during our exploration of the Hawaiian Islands is to visit as many Bikram studios as possible from the boat. We hope to take at least one class from each of the 3 Bikram yoga teachers at the Kona studio over the next few days and Shawn is excited to guest teach.

Another small world story (the last being after having just met another young cruiser, Brian, in Hilo also recently sailed to the islands from mainland, we were pointed to look for “Brian of Kainani Sails” by Chris' grandmother who happens to live on the same floor as Brian's grandmother in Oahu. Turns out Brian and his father were also the contractors that constructed the addition on Chris' sister's house in Oregon a couple years back). Anyway, a couple days ago a guy walking by our boat stopped to chat. After a few moments we determined that he owned one of the sailboats we had seen while anchored in Puako and after a few more we realized he was basically family. We had been told to look for him by river guide friend Ariana's mom who had a close friend that had been cruising in Hawaii for over 25 years... We spent a nice couple hours of chatting with Michael during which we learned a lot about cruising around the islands and were then surrounded by the glow of “small world encounters” for the rest of the day.

Our current plan is to enjoy the mellow Honokohau, yoga, turtles, and maybe even some surf while we're here and then make the short hop out to the Kona anchorage to poise for another push south along this beautiful coast. Although it is warm, some days the clouds blanket the sky here most of each day and our solar system does not quite keep up, but luckily others the sun blazes through all day long and our battery banks fill up early. We look forward to resupplying with a few jerry cans of diesel, another load of fresh food and getting back out onto the hook again soon.

First anchoring adventures on the Big Island

2011-07-22T13:19:00.000-07:00

In our estimation, cruising in Hawaii is completely different from sailing in Mexico. We aren’t familiar with the weather patterns and there isn’t the well informed cruiser base of information we had in the Sea of Cortez. Still, we have much information to go with (Mehaffy cruising guide, Soggy Paws compendium, and NOAA weather radio) and are learning the patterns by observation with every day we are out. Since there is currently no lava flowing into the water around the very windy and exposed southern route, we chose to head north around the Big Island. To find safe anchorage, it is necessary to get around the northern point into the lee of the island which requires skirting the edge of the infamous Alenuihaha Channel where winds crossing the Pacific are funneled between the islands of Hawaii and Maui causing extremely increased wind and wave conditions.

Since 74-nm is a long way for us during daylight hours and we were hoping to avoid the afternoon winds in the Alenuihaha Channel, we decided to leave very early and make miles motoring until the winds filled in- expectedly around sun rise. Our alarms went off at midnight Thursday July 14th and we slowly organized to head out of Hilo Bay. As we pulled Rocky aboard around 0130, the sky opened for a wet send off. As usual, the rains passed quickly and we motored out of the harbor under the full moon. We were barely past the breakwall when Shawn spotted the first tug-towing-barge on its way toward the harbor. Smack in the middle of the shipping lanes, we set a course offshore to avoid and had barely relaxed after passing safely when Chris spotted a second round. This time, past Peepeekeo Point, we chose to pass on the island side of the tug and its barge so set course now toward shore. Once safely past, Chris took a sleeping shift and Shawn oogled the full moon, moonbows (yes, rainbows created by moonlight), the moon set and rainbows as the sunrise shone upon Mauna Kea.

By 0800 the trade winds had filled in with a solid 10 knots and up went the sails for an amazing sailing tour along the uninhabited and rarely visited northeast coast filled with extreme valleys. Shawn awoke from her cat nap to views of magnificent valleys cut into the island including Waipio Valley on the left, a wall of 11 (yes, eleven!!) waterfalls tumbling thousands of feet to the ocean and Waimanu Valley to the right. It was so beautiful that we just stared and kept trying to capture it with pictures as we enjoyed our downwind sail. Finally we spotted the ‘Upolo overlook we had stood at just over two weeks previous and quickly after we were passing the wind farm marking the north end of the island.

Of course did not manage to avoid the afternoon winds, so as we entered the channel and winds started to increase, we downsized sail area by dropping the main. We were lucky (and wouldn’t have done the passage if it had been forecast otherwise) to have only moderate tradewinds as when we rounded the island at about 1500 we saw solid 25 knot winds gusting to 30 with Tao flying under 80% jib alone. Then just as suddenly as the winds filled in, we were in the lee of Hawaii and had no wind at all. We chose to drop sail and motor in for ease of selecting an appropriate anchoring spot in these new-to-us anchoring conditions (finding large enough sand patches while avoiding commonplace lava, coral, and boulders). Nishimura Bay is amazing with a beautiful football sized patch of sand easy to anchor in. We set the hook in very light on-shore winds and watched the strange winds and swells over the next hour before the winds shifted 180-degrees to strongly off-shore. For the next two days conditions were the same, 15-knots gusting to 25+. Good to know that this is what this area sees with moderate tradewinds blowing.

We spent three nights and two days enjoying this amazing anchorage and had no idea how good these anchoring conditions actually were. Though it was windy, the set was solidly in the sand in a comfortable 35-ft of depth. It was crazy to look offshore to see the lumpy seas in the channel behind us and to realize how tenuous our hold to this island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is and how much open water lay behind us. We enjoyed wonderful views of Maui across the channel in the clouds, a reconstructed heiau (“religious temple” this one dedicated as a navigational aid used by the early Polynesians) on a cliff to the north of us, dramatic dark clouds sliding down the foothills of Maunu Kea creating rainbows each afternoon but no moisture ever reaching us in the anchorage, increased southerly swells and spectacular sunsets. Everything felt new here in conditions we were not familiar with, and we realize that Fatty and how the dinghy will perform under sail and rowing in different conditions is still relatively new to us (it was a bit awe-inspiring to think about the possibility of being swept out to sea in it). The first day Chris bravely explored rowing Fatty in the windy conditions and of course we found that Fatty’s hard bottom and keel allows so much less sideslip than Eeyore that rowing was easy in the conditions we had. He proceeded to scout possible landing areas for us to scramble ashore while Shawn baked bread and got more comfortable with each gust that didn’t budge Rocky’s hold in the sand below. The next day we spent exploring the area together first rowing a half mile to the neighboring Mahukona Harbor, filled with weekend revelers, for a snorkel and then gratefully back to Nishimura (which felt like our personal anchorage), to anchor Fatty, snorkel in and scramble ashore between swells. We spent several hours hiking along what was an old sugar cane plantation railway and other 4WD trails in the as-of-yet undeveloped open lands with million dollar water views.

Itching to find what we had understood as the “light wind” side of the island out of the wind tunnel we surely were still in, the next morning we sailed off the hook and headed south on the strong winds. After a mere hour of heavy winds and gusty sailing we passed a wind line and were becalmed. Good thing we had only planned to go a few miles so we had time to wait it out and see how the winds would fill in. We ate a nice egg and sausage brunch and an hour later onshore winds filled in and we had a beautiful sail south past Kawaihae Harbor (that apparently no longer allows anything but commercial traffic inside its breakwalls). Making such good time, we thought maybe we could make Honokohau by sunset, but as the land headed more westerly toward Keahole Point, it became apparent that it would be an upwind battle. So instead, we turned around and sailed into Puako Bay, at the base of Mauna Kea, which we had heard was a possible anchorage. We had also noted 4 anchored masts from offshore, so figured there must be a good spot.

Wanting to check out the entire area for a safe anchor spot we dropped sails, fired up Yannie, and slowly approached the reefs off Puako Bay toward the other anchored vessels. The water here is so clear you can see the bottom 50-ft away and the features appear to be near the surface. Ever so slowly we approached, Shawn watching off the bow and Chris watching the depth sounder, and crossed over the first dark area of rock with plenty of depth (30-ft). However, to get to the boats anchored in what looked like beautiful sandy bottom required repeatedly crossing over rocks and boulders that were getting shallower and shallower. It didn’t look like there was much room on the sand patch anyway and uncomfortable with the rapidly shallowing depths (13-ft below water line, that’s a mere 7-ft below our keel, was the shallowest we saw) we turned around and went back out to find our own nice sand patch in depths we were more comfortable with. After a bit of searching we found a good sized strip of sand where our anchor chain could lay completely on sand in the onshore winds. We dropped and set remarkably easily. Chris got his fins and snorkel and dove to check the set. All was well so we made ready for an evening in a roadstead anchorage putting out the flopper stopper to combat the roll. Abruptly the wind shifted to offshore and was immediately blowing 10 gusting to 15+ knots. As Tao turned around 180-degrees, our anchor chain snagged on the edge of one lone rock. Although frustrating we were grateful that the sun was still out and Chris was able to dive the 35-ft down to easily move the chain over the rock back into our private strip of sand. For the first time ever we were in a situation where more chain wasn’t necessarily better and we decided to pull some in so instead of our normal 5:1, only 4:1 (often quoted as recommended) scope. There was great star watching until the moon came up and the rest of the night winds were consistently strong offshore.

Although Rocky held solidly and our flopper stopper did its job well, it was an uncomfortable enough night on the hook that the next morning we were both ready to continue our southward trek in lieu of exploring the area. Sailing off the hook, we rode the strong offshore winds right out of any wind. We waited an hour drifting in the swells using little breezes that would come this way and that before we finally turned on the engine and motored toward shore where the winds finally filled in; unfortunately from the direction we were headed. All afternoon we enjoyably tacked southwest along the coast until we realized we didn’t have enough wind to get us to our goal before sunset. We decided to motor sail the rest of the way to Honokahau to ensure a good night of sleep and watched planes take off and land from the lava landing strip as we passed Keahole Point.

We reached Honokohau Harbor just before sunset Monday July 18th and did several passes searching for a possible sandy area outside the harbor where we had heard it was possible to anchor. Slim pickings, but we found one and dropped Rocky smack in the middle of it. As the sun set we were backing down to ensure the set and... it dragged! Another first, the sand layer must have been very thin. As the sun had now set we would no longer be able to dive to check our anchor set and since we had the option, we decided to motor into the harbor (we had phoned earlier just in case). It was a bit less-than-ideal to be coming in quite so late, but plenty of lights blazed and Chris had gratefully received good directions to an open mooring. We found ourselves in a tight basin and needed to back past the mooring for our bow into a 15-ft wide space between two small fishing boats. Thankfully the wind was calm, and after some tactical discussion while floating, Chris impressively managed to get us in first try. We did use the railing on one of the power boats to hold onto while Chris jumped off Moni to the dock to tie our two stern lines and Shawn grabbed the mooring with a boat hook to attach it to our bow. It was challenging but med-tied again we had a refreshingly calm night of sleep.

Mahalo Hilo and Majestic Mauna Kea

2011-07-13T14:13:00.000-07:00

A comedy of errors regarding getting our new smart phone... All went well buying it off Ebay, but after 6 days (including 4th of July holiday) of attempting to implement patience and hoping for our phone, still "out for delivery" according to tracking, to be delivered to Amanda's house, Chris contacted the USPS. There it was at the Hilo post office (and had been for 7-days) awaiting a pick up. Apparently they had attempted delivery and because no one was home had left a note that it required pickup and the little note was lost. Thankfully, we did manage to call the day before it would have been shipped back to mainland. The mystery was solved, so we picked up the phone, though unfortunately the story does not end there. From the post office, Chris took the phone directly to Verizon to start our new data package plan, and that day (?!?!) they had changed their offered pricing structure. No more unlimited data packages, which confuses all of our careful planning regarding finances and having phone and internet access... Frustrating as it is, here we are, so we'll see how one month of it goes and make decisions from there.

We were waylaid once again from leaving Radio Bay by David and Elizabeth, on neighboring Canadian boat Demelza, who offered us to accompany them in their little Toyota rental car up to the summit of Mauna Kea. We have been wondering how to make this journey happen so jumped at the opportunity and enjoyed both their company and the adventure. After a quick stop at the visitor center at 9K feet, we started the slow drive up the $1million/paved mile road. We had only minor mishap when at 13K feet after losing all power, we had to pull over and wait for the car to recalibrate before the final climb. We're guessing the rapid altitude change was too drastic for the fuel injection system in this modern "smart" car to keep up the appropriate fuel to air ratio.

We made it up through the clouds to the summit in plenty of time to watch the entirety of the sun set. Mauna Kea is a massive shield volcano, taller than Everest when measured from the ocean floor to its 13, 796-ft above sea level peak. It is a sacred mountain in Hawaiian mythology and one of the best sights of astronomical observation in the world (due to height, dry and stable climate) with 13 enormous telescopes resting on its summit. Dressed in all of our layers in the just above freezing temperatures at the overlook, it felt like being in a plane above the clouds. We were able to see below us clouds all around, to the south the Mauna Loa peak (Kiluea which we visited is on its flank, but with a different source of magma, geologically considered a different volcano), and to the west all the way through the clouds to the ocean far below and even Maui Islands distant outline. After watching the epic sunset, we were ushered by park employees back down the mountain (and reminded that our 2WD breaks were likely to fail on the descent...). We had a fine slow journey back down through the clouds to the visitor center which had hot chocolate and telescopes focused on the moon and saturn awaiting for all interested, which we were.

We had set up a Saturday departure with the Radio Bay harbor master, but missed it to see Mauna Kea and were not legally able to leave Radio Bay on Sunday, so we did yoga and relaxed. Monday was spent scrubbing Tao down inside and out and cleaning Fatty's bottom in preparation for departure. But Iain and Alyson, a fun couple on their custom built aluminum boat Loon III, had landed and we decided to stick around yet one more evening for interesting happy hour conversation with them. Finally Tuesday morning we managed to break free our mooring lines. Once the USCG was notified that we were leaving past the cruise ship in port, we had an uneventful motor out of Radio Bay, past security for the last time into Hilo Bay and onto anchor (out of the shipping channel and clear of the rocky reefs) inside the breakwall.

It feels wonderful to be back at anchor. The motion of the boat reminds us that we are indeed cruising and not living ashore. Once satisfied with our anchor set and placement, we rowed Fatty ashore to the Hilo Bayfront beach and made haste to our favorite sushi spot before they closed for the afternoon. Then one more stop in the KTA for some final provisions and we wandered through the Farmer's Market before rowing back across the channel to Tao bobbing happily at anchor. We made it back just before the several passing clouds started to shed rain in the sunny afternoon and noting that the current was holding us side to the wind looked up the tides and realized that it is nearly a fully moon. We listened to the weather and downloaded a GRIB file in preparation of sailing out of the bay, watched the cruise ship navigate out of the harbor at sunset and a barge under tow be brought in under bright moonlight. It felt so good to be disconnected from shore and hence reconnected to offshore that we were loathe to leave that midnight so we decided to stay for one more relaxing day at anchor here in Hilo Bay. Our current plan is to leave tonight around midnight under the full moon for a 74-nm passage north around the Big Island to put the hook down on the sunny west side in Nishimura Bay (hopefully before the channel winds pick up too much tomorrow afternoon). We have much enjoyed our in depth adventures around the Big Island from Radio Bay, and now it feels great to be under way again...

More Hilo and Cruising Plans

2011-07-11T18:43:00.000-07:00

Volcano National Park is completely worth getting up at 0345 (wasn't even early enough) to call the Radio Bay escort, meet a reserved taxi, and catch a 0520 bus (free, apparently meant for VNP workers, though we were the only ones on it that rainy morning). We were inside the park by 0630 giving us a truly full day to explore the park on foot. It was raining, but we kept positive attitudes- at least it wasn’t raining quite as hard as the last time we were here and hiked through the Kilauea Iki Crater. We hiked all morning through many different ecological habitats in the misting rain, captivated by the flora dominated by huge unfurling forest ferns and even caught sight of some Kalij pheasant foraging near the trail. A geological highlight was definitely walking underground through the lighted and improved and then the pitch black and wet unimproved Na’Huku lava tubes.

Because the Halema'uma'u Crater is off-gassing, the western portion of the rim trail around the entire Kileauea Caldera has been closed for safety. So we looped back via the Desolation trail and a wonderful view of the off-gassing vent. We even dropped down into the eastern edge of the caldera and saw Pele’s hair (very thin long pieces of volcanic glass) sparkling in the sun strewn about everywhere in the lavascape. Back on the rim, the Art Gallery had been highly recommended to us and did not let us down- with amazing works in all mediums focused around life in VNP and on Hawaii. The afternoon had cleared to a blazing sunny day, so we enjoyed a nice picnic lunch and then hiked along the steaming bluff of the caldera the rest of the way to the Jaggar Museum for Chris to fill his geology mind with yet more information. It was more hiking than we’ve done in ages (can’t move around so much aboard a tiny sailboat) and we fortuitously bumped into Amanda and her son Mykah at the museum and rode back to Hilo with them, pleasantly worn out after an awe-inspiring day.

Early the next day we met Amanda and her son Jayden for a hike to a surprise destination. The trailhead started near the town of Waimea and after hiking through pastureland, stands of bamboo, and following along a flume of water, we ended up with stunning views of steep volcanic waterfalls at the head of Wai’pio Valley. Chris found another cave to explore and Shawn couldn’t stop snapping pictures even though the magnitude and magnificence of the place could not be captured. Back in town we joined the Amanda for a poke sushi roll dinner (she gave us great tips on rolling) and a soak in their backyard hot tub as the night jasmine wafted to us and the cooling rain fell.

During the following week, we spent 2 days and a night at the north end of the island in Kohala with Chris’ family friends and sailors Toni and Tye (Toni went to high school with Chris’ father). Having extensively cruised the South Pacific, we enjoyed hearing their stories while at their old sugar cane plantation home with fruit, flower, and nut trees flourishing around the yard. They also drove us to see ‘Upolo Valley on the NE tip of the island where we saw an ‘Io (Hawaiian Hawk) floating oh so close. And the next day to Nashimura Bay (which will likely be our first stop after leaving Hilo Bay) with marvelous views across the channel to Maui, on the NW tip of the island.

The Homemade Icecream/Hilo Tropical Gardens Hostel just up the road from the port rented us cruiser bikes for 3-days ($5/day each and free wifi a welcome added bonus!). We used them well to get around town at our leisure even did an entire shop at the local KTA market (quite a feat for Shawn, though Chris loves riding like a pack mule). Most exciting, though, we spent a day snorkeling at Richardson Park (just a bit south of Radio Bay). We spent an astounding hour on a coast littered with huge rounded lava rocks watching the waves breaking on shore with 10 or so large turtles feeding on the rocks below the breaking waves. We first noticed their round heads poking above the water between the breakers. Once closer, as the waves jacked up and the sun shone through them, we were able to see their full bodies swimming through the waves (more graceful than any surfer) to keep off the rocks. It was magical.

We have continued to take several sunny day opportunities to sail Fatty out of Radio Bay into the larger Hilo Bay to explore the river mouths, moored boats, Coconut Island and the Hilo Bayfront. With 4th of July came USCG vessel Kiska home to its dock here in Radio Bay- which meant that we had to move in from our tie on the end of the wall to make space for them to dock. That night fireworks were shot from Coconut Island just outside of Radio Bay. There was a large warehouse and the pier with cargo being loaded on a barge in the way so we rowed Fatty out past them to enjoy the show- only in the few moments it took us to row there, the quick show was already over. Back at Tao we celebrated appropriately anyway with yummy grilled burgers.

We are stalling here a bit awaiting the delivery of Chris’ new-to-us smart phone. Apparently everything takes longer than expected for delivery in Hawaii. We are working on our patience… This has provided us plenty of time to discuss our upcoming cruising plans. The main options that we’ve been discussing include:

(1) sailing NE back to the mainland west coast this September,

(2) sailing south through the Line Islands this Decemberish and then this coming spring continuing SW through the South Pacific (this option has the variability of instead heading first to Micronesia then south toward Australia), or

(3) spending until early next year in the Hawaiian Islands (including the possibility of land-life for a few months) and then implementing option (2) or later in 2012 option (1).

Although we haven’t come up with any long-term answers, we have been reminded that our MO has been to move slowly and see areas, so placing time restrictions and implementing the pressure to “hurry up” is not preferable (and maybe not even possible) for either of us. This pretty much knocks out option (1) for this year because we need about a month to prepare Tao for another cross-oceanic voyage which would in turn mean getting to Honolulu ASAP. So, for now, we are continuing at our preferred slow pace enjoying every day and getting prepped to get back underway.

Sunrises and Sunsets across the Pacific

2011-07-04T16:54:00.000-07:00

This post is an attempt to share a select few of our favorite beautiful pictures and some of the notable highlights of our journey across the Pacific. Our goal was to share one sunrise and one sunset picture per day, the following is what we ended up with...

DAY 1

This first was only a half day (i.e. not awake for the sunrise) therefore, this is actually the full moon rise and sunset as we sailed out of Banderas Bay after the random wave found its way in our forward hatch (our fault for having it open) onto our carefully dried fruits and veggies... We managed to keep this celery alive and crisp for two weeks by placing them in fresh water like a floral arrangement.

DAY 2

Seasickness sucks, but Mexican sunrises and sets are gorgeous. We decided we must have been crossing a shipping lane between Central, South, and North America this day as several large cargo ships passed within our view.

DAY 3

Already noting that the sun is setting and rising later, we're moving west!

DAY 4

Continued upwind sailing and moved litter box to entice Grizzly inside (this didn't work and we finally moved it back into its normal spot, just removed the swinging door).

DAY 5

This was the long night (madrugada to be more specific, there is no word for the wee hours of the night in English) that we stood off Isla Soccoro waiting for the light of sunrise to allow us to approach the shore and anchor. The first image actually depicts the sunset as we approached the island the evening previous before we made the decision to stay. The second was our morning approach toward safe haven and naval base complete with war ships (the third image).

DAY 6

During our sleeping marathon, Shawn awoke to snap a shot of the sunrise and then immediately went back to bed. Underway again, we re-ran our jib downhaul and at sunset attempted to take a picture of a bird with the sky background.

DAY 7

No pictures of the sun rise or set on day-7, most likely because it was a sheet of overcast gray with no exciting colorful changes. However, we did have excitement- Chris bypassed the solenoid, the yogurt exploded out of the fridge, a pod of dolphin played around our boat, and flying fish launched themselves onto our deck.

DAY 8

This was the day of our nerve-wracking pilot whale encounter- unfortunately no pictures...

DAY 9

Boobie hitchhikers. As the sun came up, soon after this photo shoot, they all took flight and magically we managed to avoid any need for deck cleaning (or maybe the waves washing over the deck took care of it for us)... This night we passed a vessel fishing the seamounts of the Soccoro Islands and in the morning watched a finback whale cross our path.

DAY 10

This deceptively calm looking day was the day of the epic epicurean adventure with the extra salty and tossed tomato salad...

DAY 11

Really, did we actually wait this long before our first full cockpit shower?!

DAY 12

Moni's steering control line nearly chafed through- easy fix.

DAY 13

Finally found the North Pacific High (i.e. winds veering in our favor).

DAY 14

No sunrise shot this am, but instead showing Shawn as she spent much time- washing dishes... The evening shot was taken as our first squall approached. After we witnessed the effect (only 10-15-knot increase in winds and downpour of rain), we doused our 100% and downsized to our 80% for comfortable sailing throughout the night.

DAY 15

Halfway pizza party 1,405-nm from our outbound and inbound destinations!

DAY 16

Wrapped and ripped the drifter. Pilot whales peacefully surrounded us during this repair.

DAY 17

Close encounter with the cargo ship headed for NZ (<1-nm CPA). Once the sun rose, the sleigh ride toward Hawaii began.

DAY 18

Biggest mileage day (135-nm).

DAY 19

LOG!!! Tie for the biggest mileage day (gratefully we were not surfing down a wave when we met the log). Also initiated e-mail contact with veterinarian and State of HI to make appointments for Grizzly's projected arrival.

DAY 20

Some days have too many pretty pictures to choose just one... Idyllic drifter day #1.

DAY 21

Idyllic drifter day #2. After pulling down the drifter together and replacing it with the 80% for the night, Shawn put sail tape over a new tear (likely from pulling and shaking so many reefs) in the mains'l.

DAY 22

Another cargo ship (this time headed for Japan) and a hot pink sunset.

DAY 23

Jibed to port tack for the afternoon (80% and triple reefed mains'l). Also a glimpse of what it looks like down below underway viewed from our companionway. Note Chris sleeping in the port berth, Grizzly sleeping on the table (blue canvas cover provides protection for the table and something for her claws to sink into), our starboard berth is our garage, the V-berth up front is packed with food and gear held up there with a sail cloth...

DAY 24

Human-gimbal rolly polly continues. The moon is finally growing to light each night.

DAY 25

Another afternoon on port tack and e-mailed customs regarding our projected weekend arrival.

DAY 26

All remaining vegetables (with no plans for use before landfall) overboard and even a rainbow (though quite light in the picture). That's Shawn about to use a heart shaped jicama.

DAY 27

Also a short day of sailing (actually only 53-min in final calculations), this shows the squalls at sunrise and a glimpse of land with the rainbow over Hilo welcoming us to Hawaii.

Hilo; first 2 weeks on the Big Island

2011-06-24T15:42:00.000-07:00

Our first 2 weeks in Hilo have been quite busy. We made landfall on a Saturday, and after we checked in with Customs, we re-activated our cell phones (which were at the end of their possible 6 month/yr hold anyway) so that we could make a required call to set up an appointment with the state veterinarian. As previously arranged, Dr. Pease from All Pets Mobile came down to do a “boat-call” early Monday morning and fill out a current certificate of good health (required by Hawaii State Department of Agriculture). While awaiting the state veterinarian for their examination of Griz, Chris dove to check Tao’s bottom for log damage. Amazingly he found none! A call from the state vet the next morning woke us up and we met her 20 minutes later at a nearby picnic table to check Griz’s microchip number, that she wasn’t carrying any critters, and to fill out a mountain of paperwork. All of a sudden we were free, all three of us checked in to the islands.

We hopped on of one of the Tuesday cruise ships shuttles (a cruise ship seems to dock at the pier every Tuesday) to a nearby mall and were overwhelmed by all of the big stores you see in every American city. With no internet available via our Bad Boy wifi device at the port, we started our research for how to get some internet. We chose to try out a USB mobile broadband modem from Mobi, a local Hawaiian Islands service, for their 14-day trial period. We spent the next few days aboard drying out the boat (between rain squalls), generally observing the daily changes here (which included the entry of 7 traditional Polynesian sailing canoes making landfall from New Zealand), making a dream list of all the activities we might like to do around the Big Island, and frequently sailing Fatty out to explore the bigger Hilo Bay.

Radio Bay is located within the working Port of Hilo and is therefore a high security site. It is very calm weather-wise (no roll!), but there is a near constant noise of large cranes and loaders and multiple axle trucks moving cargo through the port. There is a nice bathroom with hot shower (for a refundable $50 key deposit) and for us to get to town we are required to be escorted through the port (laden with semi-truck trailers) by very friendly and accessible (as long as you have a phone to call) 24-hr gate security. By Thursday, we finally motivated to do laundry. Carrying all of our clothes and bedding from the passage, we managed to miss the free hourly bus and instead had a rainy day adventure of hitchhiking (which we hear is legal in Hawaii) and walking some of the longest blocks ever (under our newly purchased umbrellas) to find a self-serve laundry several miles away in the town of Hilo. All fresh and clean, we celebrated our crossing with a dinner on Comocean, who had been just behind us throughout much of our crossing.

Saturday was as sunny as Friday had been rainy. All of the plants here appear to be on some kind of growth enhancing drug (lots of rainwater!) and fragrant flowering trees litter the sidewalks with their blossoms. We walked to Rainbow Falls just outside of Hilo, through jungle vegetation and banyan trees, to perch atop the waterfall on a rock basking in the sun. Then returned to town to purchase succulent vegetables at the twice weekly market and catch the last bus home where we met Amanda, a friend from graduate school. Since CSU, we had visited her once before when we were on the Big Island for Chris’ family reunion, though were surprised to realize that it had been 7-years! We quickly caught up over frozen Hawaiian style margaritas and then picked up dinner which we enjoyed outside (to the smell of night blooming jasmine) at Amanda’s beautifully grown up house with Jeremy and their two boys.

The next morning Amanda took us on an adventure to the South Point (Ka Lae) of the Big Island, claimed to be the most southern point in the United States, and showed us all the good spots along the way. Our tour included sandwich markets in Hilo, up to a pumpkin bread stop near the volcano, down to South Point and several beaches and view points along the way. We stopped at the Black Sand beach (Punalu'u) and hiked along the extremely windy SE tip of the island to a beautiful green sand beach. The black sand is made of basalt and the green sand, olivine (if you look closely, you can see flecks of the green sand in the handful of black sand here). On the way back to Hilo, we stopped into Volcanoes National Park to see bright yellow sulfur beds and then the overlook of the Kilauea Caldera to see rays of sunset wash over the volcanic gases exiting a newly formed vent.

On week 2 of our stay here, we got more serious about trying to plan out our adventures. We made our way to the bus station to gather information for different routes around the island. While downtown, we visited the Hilo Bay front museums including an aquarium and extreme lava art displays and finally filled our craving for sushi (thumbs up for Ocean Sushi). An enjoyably memorable day was spent learning about Hawaiian culture and Mauna Kea astronomy at the ‘Imiloa Astronomy center, 3D planetarium, and native gardens. And there is still a long list of exciting things to do and see while safely anchored here in Radio Bay...

A portion of each day has been spent trying to decide how to be affordably connected while we’re cruising in the States. After much debate, we have decided to drop Chris’ phone line and the Mobi service and share (yes, the dark ages) one smart phone for our time cruising the Hawaiian Islands. We’ll keep you posted on how that goes. Also, we’ve still got lots of pictures and processing of our crossing to catch up on and we’ve been trying to figure out how to continue updating the blog now that our lives aren’t exciting enough for a daily update... We're waiting for some fast internet to upload lots of pictures. Please keep in touch and keep checking back for updates.