Cruising the Hawaiian Isles

Yachting

Story and pidwes by SALLY ANDREWS

While a Kona storm bat tered the state, we hunkered down inside

Lanai’s protected

Black Maneke Harbour - doubling our docklines against the surge and keeping an eye on our fenders.

In the middle of the maelstrom, we hiked to a vantage point on the cliffhead in our foul-weather gear to stare at the awesome sea. Big swells completely close out the tiny harbour, breaking angrily across the entrance. We had been extremely lucky to get inside before the storm hit. Savage winds had denuded trees, surf ripped up the beach, rain drenched the island.

After the storm blew itself out, fresh palm fronds littered the beach and road.

Thanks to Hawaii’s fantastic inter-island library system I learned the technicalities of weaving palm fronds. But I hadn’t fig ured out how to climb a tree to get the requisite palm fronds to put this book knowledge to the test!

Now was my chance. I succeeded in weaving over half a dozen hats and bas

kets. We sailed from Lanai to Honolulu.

Though I’d hoped for some musical enter tainment and traditional dancing, Hono’s Talking Island Festival was just that - a pleasant afternoon of talk and recollec tions.

A Hawaiian musician regaled us with tales if his life as an entertainer back in 1927. He had travelled all over the world, met both Hitler and Gandhi, and was full of funny anecdotes.

He still remembered how rich he felt, touring and making $2 a day when his uncle had only been able to pay him 25 cents a week.

Honolulu is a great place to hang out and the Hawaii Yacht Club provides good facilities, a fantastic restaurant, friendly members. Many South Pacific cruisers, returning from a season of long ocean passages, succumb to the charm and con venience. Once tied up in the state-run Ala Wai marina next to Waikiki Beach, they never leave again!

We forced ourselves to move on before falling victim to the comforts, even if it was to an anchorage only a few miles west.

At busy Keehi Lagoon, noisy airport

runways and too many tourists on jet skis spoiled the pleasure of staying on the hook for too terribly long, and we soon sailed to Pokai Bay, on Oahu’s west coast, sheltering behind a man made breakwater in a shallow anchor age of less than 10 feet!

At night Pokai Bay smelled of local stock yards but in the daytime, with the onshore breeze it was fine. The small breakwater protects the dreadful little anchorage which is sand-bottomed and skirted with a great swimming beach!

We hung out until the weather looked good to sail across the channel to Kauai, then left before the sun rose.

With a steady breeze blowing about 16 to 17 knots - perfect trade winds and not much in the way of ocean swell

until we closed Nawiliwili - we were blessed with exemplary sailing condi tions.

The Kauaians were friendly folk and the state-run marina seemed a good place to leave Fellowship while touring the island. By phone, I arranged a cheap noon-to noon rental car.

Fifteen minutes later we were on our way by road, to the North Shore.

Highlights included stops in Hanalei Bay, Princeville and Lumahai Beach.

We walked out to the Kilauea Lighthouse and wildlife refuge, poked our noses into the Maniniholo Dry cave a couple of '"’wet” ones. At Key Beach we found a heiau (temple platform) and made the traditional offering of a stone wrapped in a ti leaf. The Na’paii coast was stun ning. I wished we had time to hike the long and arduous trail - but its attraction lay in its ruggedness and inaccessibility.

Next morning, we went land cruising again, driving in the opposite direction west along Kauai’s south coast towards Waimea Canyon State Park.

Cane field (burned first then harvested

by yellow bulldozers) predominated the

landscape.

This agricultural burn-off made the

View of Honolulu from Diamond Head

coastal air dry and hazy.

We decided then and there that we wouldn’t take Fellowship to Port Allen - if the blowing red earth didn’t stain the boat then the black fallout from burning sugar cane

surely would.

No far from Waimea is Fort Elizabeth, site of Captain Cook’s first Hawaiian landfall. Standing in front of the Captain Cook monu ment, we overheard four mainlan ders debate: “Was Captain Cook American?” I didn’t dare to look at Foster but sensed his brow furrow as his eyes slid upwards. We head ed off in search of more Slurpies and Shave Ice, the best way to stay cool in Hawaii. All too quickly our 24 hours “with wheels” ended and we returned the car. We moved from the dock to the anchorage and waited, planning to go across the channel, back to Pokai Bay. The channels between the islands have a reputation for being fierce but we

motored most of the way due to a lack of wind.

The swell was not comfortable, though, with several tall, steep swells

from the north, which lay us on our beam ends. To celebrate another successful crossing, we opened a bottle of Californian wine, a gift from a friend. At

Thanksgiving, we returned to the Hawaii Yacht Club (Honolulu) to catch up with friends.

Our arrival back was well-timed and the abundance of cruisers (mostly American) dictated a boisterous potluck affair. As penance, we walked to the top of Honolulu’s most famous landmark.

Diamond Head.

It was just what the doctor ordered.

After overindulging at thanksgiving’s feast, the exercise burned off calories and WOW - what a fantastic view from the top.

Then the rains started - interminable and wet. It felt more like the Pacific Northwest than Hawaii.

We used the time productively and tackled the massive task of organising our charts, using the dry floor space in the clubhouse, the hours passed quickly as other cruisers stopped to tell tales of this port and that.

Naturally, though we had charts for seemingly every harbour and cruising ground in the entire South Pacific, we were missing the one we needed most; the chart for our next port of call. ■

Thanks to the storm I had plenty of palm fronds for hat making

Hawaii Yacht Club