Sailor’s Quest

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Captain’s Log, sea date 082699, 0008 hours

          We are in the Trades, over 700 miles from land and bound for Hawaii. All that I have read and heard about the Trade Winds of the Pacific Ocean have not prepared me for the actual experience. Imagine a warm wind that blows from the same direction, at the same speed, for hundreds of miles over a vast, peaceful ocean. It’s a magical wind that purifies soul and connects one’s self to the entire universe.

          It is 70 degrees, the wind is coming out of the Northeast at 17 knots and we are sailing on a course of 228 degrees magnetic at a speed of 8 knots. Overhead a bright moon peeks through low broken clouds. Beneath us the sea gently rocks DONDI as if she were a cradle tended by Mother Earth.

          Before leaving Berkeley and starting this passage, we questioned several engaging people at U.C. Berkeley on the subject of Truth. During the video taping of Harsha Ram, a professor of Russian Literature, chills swept through my body as I watched through the view finder and listened to these words:

“There are two parts to all religions. There is a part that is the inner quest for Truth, and each religion provides you with some kind of a blueprint for that search. But because most people don’t have the capacity, or the time, or the inner ability to undertake that quest alone, religion also provides a kind of short cut. The short cut is a set of rules to follow for those of us who don’t have the inner spiritual freedom to go on a much more risky journey, which involves making mistakes. The problem is these rules are made for different people at different times and then become frozen and made into a kind of tablet of unshakable values. So we have to figure out if these rules are applicable in a universal way, and they tend not to be.”

          As we packed up the cameras, I looked at Sherrine and Gary and I could tell they were feeling the same excitement and wonder that I was. This quest has truly begun.

          We left Berkeley on August 21^st. One hour after passing under the Golden Gate Bridge, we were in seas of 15 to 20 feet with 25 to 30 knots of wind. Within three hours we were all sick and nearly incapacitated for three days. Rex Miller, a friend of Gary’s who has joined us, couldn’t sleep. Sherrine became so dehydrated and lethargic, I had to constantly encourage her to drink water even though it made her ill. Just when we were at the limits of our endurance, the Trade Winds rescued us and a day later everyone was well and eating heartily once again.

Captain’s Log, sea date 082999, 0552 hours

          The Trade Winds evaporated two days ago. Struggling to catch each wisp of wind, we finally passed the half way point between Berkeley and Hawaii yesterday afternoon. Sherrine, Gary and Rex celebrated by going swimming. I, on the other hand, was determined to catch a fish. After several hours of fanatical trolling, I finally landed an ahi tuna in time for dinner.

          Slowly, the wind is returning and we are now on a course of 224 degrees magnetic, going 5 knots with only 7 knots of wind behind us. It is 72 degrees with overcast skies. There is still 940 miles to go until Hawaii.

          Today is Sherrine’s thirtieth birthday. I had hoped to give her Hawaii and sun as a birthday present, but it was not to be. She is wonderfully kind and one of the hardest working individuals I have ever met. At this moment she is sleeping on deck, I hope, peacefully.

          Even though there are now four of us on board to share the work load, I’m getting tired. The burden of responsibility for the vessel and crew weighs on me. We have split into two teams with each team working eight hours. During Rex and Gary’s shift, I lie awake listening to every creak and sail flutter. Worry creeps in that I should be on deck to avert a fatal mistake. Then exhaustion sets in and I drift away.

          Yesterday evening, the wind suddenly changed direction and caught the mainsail from behind, creating a very dangerous situation. Rex and Gary turned to me in panic. I hesitated for precious seconds. Finally, the fog cleared from my mind and I gave the command to bring the mainsail to the centerline of the vessel. Gary eased out the mainsail preventer, which held, stopping the main boom from knocking out the backstay which could cause the mainmast to fall over. It was a close call and I know I must use all of my willpower to banish fear from my mind in order to sleep.

Captain’s Log, sea date 090299, 0530 hours

          The night before last, the wind backed again, caught the mainsail and this time the preventer’s padeye ripped out of the main boom. Because the main sheet traveler wasn’t cleated properly, when the sail jibed, the main boom swept across the deck. Fortunately, it missed the backstay, no one was hurt and the only damage was the loss of our brand new bikini top.

          It is 73 degrees, the wind is out of the East-Southeast at 14 knots and we are sailing at 6 knots on a course of 221 degrees magnetic. Even though the Trade Winds have returned, the weather is unstable. An incident yesterday afternoon changed the way we use our radar.

          Sherrine and I were four hours into our watch during the afternoon shift. Slowly, what looked like a fog bank began to approach off our starboard aft quarter. We were running with the wind stable and off our port aft quarter so it seemed a bit strange that a weather phenomenon could be approaching from the starboard side. I took the precaution of reefing down the mainsail fifty-percent. Just as I finished, the wind shifted to the starboard side and jibed the mainsail and the mizzen sail. The preventers held and DONDI swung around. Within moments we were broadside to the wind and waves and out of control. The fog was no fog, but a squall about to slam into us.

          Quickly, we started the main engine and threw it into gear. Using the thrust of the propeller, we forced DONDI back through the wind and ran before the squall full throttle. The wind rose to over thirty knots and enormous quantities of water poured out of the sky. Rex and Gary got out of their bunks to see what was going on. Half asleep, Gary hollered that rain was coming inside the boat. Sherrine and I shouted back to close all the hatches as a squall was upon us.

          Within twenty minutes, it was over, but life did not return to normal. Now we track the squalls with our radar and when one gets close, we alter course and run away without shame. As I am writing these words we are out running a squall using the engine. Unfortunately, still learning, we didn’t act quickly enough and the leading edge hit us. Oh well, time to get the towels.

Captain’s Log, land date 090699, 1045 hours

          Two days before we arrived in Hilo, Hawaii, Sherrine and I were on watch around 0300 hours in the morning when the sky lit up bright as day. We looked up to see a gigantic ball of green fire trailing smoke and flames hurtling towards us. Just before it reached the ocean off of our starboard side, it disintegrated into a shower of particles, flame and sparks. All was still and dark. We looked at each other with thoughts of Armageddon and wondered if any of the meteor had hit the ocean. If it had, a wave from the impact would wash over us in less than a minute. Time passed and we breathed a sigh of relief as the ocean surface remained stable.

          We arrived in Hilo on 090499 at 1900 hours. It was a smooth landfall and the harbor and channels are well marked. What is strange though is the lack of boating facilities here. This is the landfall for almost all boats headed west across the Pacific, yet there aren’t any slips, or even a fuel dock.

 Captain’s Log, sea date 090999, 1453 hours

          We are now on the West coast of the Island of Hawaii approaching Honokohau Bay near Kailua Kona. The wind is out of the Southwest at 17 knots and we are close hauled going just under eight knots. The coastline is barren and brown, nothing like the East side of the island around Hilo.

          One night, while eating dinner in a restaurant in Hilo, our waitress told us about the Night Marchers. According to her, down around Kalapana, there is an ancient Hawaiian procession that takes place at night composed of people from the “other side.“ This ceremonial procession marches along a trail beating drums as they go. She personally has spent the night there and heard the drums. We talked to more locals about the Night Marchers and everyone knew of them and some had actually heard the march. Sherrine and I both wanted to spend a night down there, but we decided to save it for later since we needed to get Gary and Rex to Honolulu for their flight back to the mainland.

          The next morning we drove down into the Kalapana area to try and see lava flowing into the ocean. A landscape of blackened waves of lava confronted us right out of a surreal Salvador Dali painting. After hiking for miles across this stuff, we arrived to see molten rock oozing into the sea. Ocean breakers slammed into glowing lava causing it to explode into shards of glass, missiles of hot rock and clouds of steam mixed with hydrochloric acid. The molten lava flows underneath a crust of hardened lava. Step in the wrong place and you fall through to be instantaneously crisped.

          Leaving Hilo, we sailed at night to Kawaihae. A cruising guide, published for the Hawaii area, said this little port catered mostly to commercial traffic. The guide went on to say the anchorage was protected from the Trade Winds and good for cruising boats. Upon entering the harbor, we noticed that all the boats there were tied to hefty looking mooring buoys. Just as we were picking our anchoring spot, a man approached in a zodiac. “Are you looking for a place to tie up?“ he asked

“Yes,” I replied. “We called the harbor master and nobody answered so we are going to anchor.“

“That’s not a good idea. There is only a little bit of mud covering up solid rock, and when the wind shifts tonight, you will drag onto the outer breakwater wall to be smashed to bits.”

“You’re kidding me!” I said.

“No, I’m not,” the man answered. “Do you know what Kawaihae means?”

“What does it mean?”

“It means crazy wind.”

          The zodiac was now alongside and the man reached up to grab the side of DONDI. He appeared to be thirties, quite tanned and in good shape.

          “Tonight, the wind is going to shift 180 degrees.“ He pointed toward a valley between two mountains. “It’s going to come through that slot and pick up to around forty knots. If you are not securely moored, you’ll be destroyed. My name’s Kawika, what’s yours?“

          I hesitated a moment, still shocked, before telling him my name was Chris. While everybody else was introducing themselves, I looked at the slot between the mountains and could see the possibility of a wind tunnel effect. Then I turned toward the rock breakwater with the gentle wind blowing over it from offshore. Stunned at what had almost been our fate, I thought, What is with these cruising guides, anyway?

Kawika caught my attention. “You can use that mooring over there if you want.”

“No, I think we should probably go,” I replied. Part of me wanted to break my rule of avoiding unknown mooring buoys unless I know for sure they are safe.

Gary glanced at me with disappointment on his face. “Is there anything interesting to see here?” he asked Kawika.

“Yes. There’s a famous Hawaiian temple up on the hill. And if you look over there close to the shore, you can see the double hulled canoe that the Hawaiian’s here have sailed to Tahiti. They made it all the way using nothing but traditional navigation methods.”

“Chris, let’s just tie up to the mooring buoy,” Gary said.. I could see that the ancient Hawaiian temple had captured his imagination.

 “How do we know it can hold a boat this size?” I asked him.

Kawika interrupted, “It’ll hold you.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because I put it in,” he replied with confidence.

          We tied up, dingyed ashore and spent the afternoon exploring and shooting video. Later in the evening, as we were returning from dinner ashore, the wind shifted 180 degrees and came ripping crazily down from the valley between the mountains. I watched DONDI riding securely on the mooring buoy and shuddered thinking about what would have happened if we hadn’t met Kawika.

Captain’s Log, sea date 091199, 0807 hours

          It is 84 degrees, puffy white clouds fill a blue sky, the wind is out of the Northeast at 14 knots and Diamond Head, with Honolulu beside it, is in our sights. Much of this last passage from Kailua Kona on the Island of Hawaii to Honolulu on Oahu was spent reaching at 10 knots through relatively calm seas under a star studded night sky.

 Captain’s Log, land date 092499, 1650 hours

          Rex and Gary have gone back to the mainland leaving Sherrine and me alone once again. Since we arrived in Honolulu I have spent most of the time flat on my back with terrible back pain. Sherrine has been patiently caring for me as I make a slow recovery. I am indebted.

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