It’s been a while since I wrote something for the blog. I started quite a few drafts that way. I would write something and then delete it afterwards. Call it writer’s block or looking for new topics to write about. Shore time was spent with days off and obsession with the move to Newport. I wanted to avoid beating it to death. The fight is not over but from the eyes of the folks from Newport it is. I have little choice in the matter as I do not have the years for retirement. The reflection of my career is full of “I should of” or “Only if I did this or did that……..” as hindsight is always perfect vision. The economic revolver is pointed to my head over the matter and all the chambers are loaded in this game of Russian roulette.
Even with the slight decrease in salary I will still be making two to three times more than the average worker down there. However, buying a house and settling down on the Oregon coast is out of the question for the moment. It’s an area that does not appeal to me or the family and lack forecast for any long term optimism. It’s peculiar that this resistance to the move comes from someone with gypsy blood. I used to look forward to moving so often, even after my father retired from the military. But now, I do not. Perhaps living in the Seattle area was based on my choice and it is an area I fell in love with. I chose to live here after my divorce and though I have nothing to tie me down to the Emerald City, it is home. It isn’t like places in the past where I used to live.
I grew weary of San Diego after the city broke into the top ten in population size back in the 80’s. I liked Utah and it was a comfortable home for seven years until I had this harebrained notion that I was a businessman. I liked Albuquerque as it was there I became an adolescent. A still photo titled “Route 66, Albuquerque, New Mexico 1969” by Ernst Haas recalls memories of the threshold from child to adulthood. That photo was taken the year we moved to Albuquerque from Clark Air Base in the Philippines. I recall vividly what the Duke City looked like then. I always liked the desert Southwest with its mix of Native and Mexican culture. To satisfy my gypsy blood for the moment, the trips to Hawaii fulfills it.
I arrived in Hawaii several weeks ago after “L” and “I” went to Samoa. From talking to them it appears they are having a good time but the weather seems to be getting both of them. Despite the fact that “L” was born and raised in Samoa she indicates she has physically adapted to the climate conditions of the Pacific Northwest. They leave Monday back to the United States. I am interested in seeing photos and hearing stories about the trip. “I” talks as if he is a local and as his second home. Tonight they are going to be heading back to the United States. I will be making the same journey later this year or early next year to get my stepson.
We leave for the outer islands towards Midway and Kure again on Wednesday. I still have some equipment that need to be back from repairs and other important items via the mail. This is where maintaining a blog gets difficult when many of the stories begin to repeat. I could write and publish limited articles about Midway including photos. This will be my seventh or eighth trip there. I lost count after six. I do feel fortunate as it is a famous place, many read about it in history books and since it is closed to the public very few visit it.
Being an avid amateur historian, I try to envision what the Japanese would have done with the island if they had won the battle. A thousand Japanese soldiers stationed at a remote outpost about eleven hundred miles from Honolulu. The goal would be for intimidation but logistics would be their weak spot. Their supply lines would be vulnerable to American submarine attacks and far from the nearest Japanese base (Wake Island). When you are at a place like Midway it feels remote unlike places like Nuku Hiva in the Marquises where there are villages and signs of civilization. I have sailed and worked on the high seas at very remote places during my years on the Ka’imimoana.
Before this trip is to start, tomorrow consists of last minute work that needs tend to. Meanwhile tonight, my mind is on “L” and “I” as they make their trip across the Pacific from Apia to Los Angeles.
Aloha from Honolulu.
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