Yesterday we stopped at an island called Klava Rock. It is exactly that, a large rock sitting in the middle of nowhere. The divers did additional dives and other divers were putting in their required time to keep up with certifications. You could tell that this island is a large mountain formed from years of volcanic activity. Vegetation is minimal and there is no human life. In fact, aside from transplanted scientists conducting research during their rotation, there is or was no sign of humans beyond Nihoa. I sailed with an archeologist who studied Nihoa and believed that Polynesians tried to settle Nihoa but left nearly six hundred years ago. From then until the coming of the Europeans, the island was like a rest stop for fisherman before catching the right current to head back to the main islands. Ironically, the lack of water limits the ability to live on these islands. To the ancient Hawaiians these islands beyond Nihue was the afterworld where the spirits roam.
There are traces of ancient Polynesians and if anyone has ever been to Polynesia, it is amazing that one race is spread from Easter Islands to the East, Ponape in the Marshalls to the west, Hawaii in the north to New Zealand in the south. Each area claims to be the cradle of Polynesian civilization. If you read James Michener’s “Hawaii,” the cradle of Polynesian civilization is Tahiti but if you go to Samoa, Samoa is the cradle of Polynesian civilization, to the Marquiseans it is Marquises. Languages, customs, and tradition are different in each area. However, in my travels through Polynesia I notice there were some words that are same throughout the islands. The word for ocean is “moana” is the same everywhere and some words are close in pronunciation, have the same meanings, but spelled differently. Dressing is the same as lava lavas worn all through the islands with the exception of Hawaii. Traditional dancing is similar but the movements of the hands signify the difference of each island’s style of dancing. I love Polynesia and I envy R, an American expatriate, in Nuku Hiva who is building her lodge. She was a gracious host whenever I went there with the KA. Then there is “J,” the French woman married to a Marquisean, who was our tour guide and thoroughly explained Polynesian culture and tradition. She owns her own tour business in Taihoe. She takes you around the island in her French version of a Land Rover jeep. It was with her I went to see the village of Typee, made famous by Melville’s novel. I hope to be like "R" and "J" one day as a “palangi” living in Polynesia with the intent of never leaving again. Maybe this time L will not laugh at me when I wear a lava lava.
Transit cruises are uneventful and to give the crew something to do, they had a scavenger hunt. I did not participate but did see the participants in their costumes looking for clues or doing requirements to gain points. Maybe that is why I do not get invites to parties; they know I will not come anyway. I feel stupid sitting by myself or having no one to talk to.
It was raining this morning as we approached Honolulu. Nevertheless, it was hot and humid. To the distance from Waikiki I could see Diamond Head. We enter the channle into Pearl Harbor and come around Ford Island. You see the two channels I described 35 days ago when we departed. Docking is complete, the ship tied up and the gangway down and bolted. We are at Ford Island waiting for clearance from Customs and Immigration before going ashore. We did not leave the United States but feels like we did. I brought my passport and filled out a sheet declaring I brought nothing of value back with me. The only time I left the ship was at Midway and the T-shirt shop was only open for a limited time. I spent the money I brought and have to pay the ship’s store today but nowhere close to ten grand Customs is asking if I have in my possession!
Tonight I will go out for beer and sushi. On the other hand, if I decide that thriftiness is the route to take, go to Taiyo Noodles and a bowl of fried rice and miso soup. I take the family there to eat whenever we are in Honolulu. Portions are big and the price is right. Taro and Samoan Oka is in the works.
As soon as we clear customs, I will go out and get the reel of cable to set up telephones, cable TV, and Internet. It will give me access to make improvements to the blog as well as upload movies and photos to Facebook. Here it is, a few hours later and I completed the set up and had to run to the bank to pay the ship’s store. I bought three heavy-duty hoodies, a ship ball cap and had snacks and sodas on credit and five bucks to the third mate.
I drove to the nearest ATM and the aggravation of traffic is still the same. Cars everywhere and always lined up. As I was walking to the door, televisions blaring commercials to induce people to “buy now!” while the radio either airs politically motivated talk with nothing but dissatisfied entertainers who are experts about nothing or robo stations playing the same music that is being heard at the same time somewhere on the mainland! Topics on how to make money or lose it or this is what I need to do to get to heaven! I drove the Suburban (someone please steal it!) to Waipahu because I had a craving for Samoan food. I ate octopus cooked in coconut milk, taro and palusami. I think the octopus is called Sae or Sea. I bought some Samoan Oka (sashimi) to eat later and another taro to go with it.
When you go to desolate places like Midway or live in so-called backwards countries as I did and will do in Samoa, after five minutes of "civilization” I am ready to get back to basics! Maybe a trip to Newport, despite the cold and rain, will do us some good. Pick up some fish while we are there and have a pint at the local pub.
Aloha from Honolulu and we made it back!
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