If you think that was difficult...

Tonight, for the first time I was able to read the blog. I really wish we were able to read it while out at sea. So if you think sailing across the Pacific ocean is difficult now put yourself in my shoes for the next challenge ahead...the challenge being a new "blog post" which somehow begins to express my thanks, gratitude, appreciation and love to all of you who supported us. Sitting here begining to type, I somehow feel honestly really transmitting these feelings through the written word may be an even bigger challenge. So I hope that through simply sharing some last stories, posting some pictures and continuously simply writing "thank you" over and over I can at least begin to express my "thanks" to all of you.

It must have been just two nights before we arrived, but I saw the moon in a way I've never seen it before. The funny thing is that it was the "new moon". Which I think normally means when the moon begins it's new cycle which means there is "no moon" in the sky. It was just after sunset and some stars began to appear. Toward the end of the trip dad started to "get" that being on deck helped more than anything, so for the last 5 to 10 days he would hang out on deck for sometime after sunset with me. It was pretty much my routine for the entire trip to hang out on deck for 1 to 2 hours after sunset, unless chef Louie had another round of coconut milk mac and cheese ready. Anyway, on that evening it was dad and I out on deck. I noticed what at first I thought was a star but after watching it I noticed that it was oblong, looking something like 3 or 4 stars bunched together in a line. I just could not figure it out. It was just above a cloud so I began to think that since we were so close to Hawaii that maybe there was an airplane with a powerful light projecting forward through the cloud and that possibly that is what I was seeing. But the illumination persisted in one single location.

After more consideration I think it came to me in a holler out loud to dad, "I think that's the moon!". I think he had been watching it as well and had also come to the same conclusion. It was the smallest spec of moon I had ever seen. That in itself is probably not the most interesting observation to be sharing, but what began to transpire in the 30 minutes that followed was amazing to us. The small sliver we realized, was the bottom side of the moon because it had the smallest arc of, as I mentioned, only about 3 or 4 stars wide. In my experience, whenever I have seen the moon in the past, it did not change shapes on me...if there is a small sliver, then that is what you have for the evening, if you have a big sliver, that's what you've got, a half moon, a full moon, whatever, that's what you've got for that day. But that evening after we saw the spec of light we noticed that it moved. And then it got a bit larger. And as it got darker I thought I could see the opposite side. Not full light, but a glow. About 1 hour after sunset what began as the tiniest sliver turned into the equivalent of seeing a full moon glow through fog. But there was no fog and there were no clouds to obstruct our view. The earth had a made an absolutely perfect shadow covering the moon just so right as to make it so the entire moon would glow, full size, into what really looked like an eclipse. And the sliver of moon we could see, would ever so slightly move to different locations as time persisted. The simplest things become so interesting out there.

For the last couple of days the anticipation of our tropical arrival was absolutely killing me. The joy, the excitement and all of the thoughts going through my head. For the sailing world the title of our voyage may read something like "some more guys cross the Pacific", as if it's a routine occurrence, but the headlines in my own mind read simply "You did it! You did it!". After finally being able to read the blog last night, I read Dave's description of me as being "thorough". Funny he wrote that because the last two days of the trip were going to be "smooth sailing". And as I wrote, there was a lot of excitement and anticipation in the air. As captain it was of utmost importance to me that we make the last couple of nice sailing weather "safe". There are just too many stories of things happening on the last leg. The people who go on the road trip around the country only to get in an accident within miles of their home on their return. Or some may remember the accident in northern California last year. There were 3 professional boat delivers with lots of experience had been hired to bring a sailboat from South Africa to Seattle. After coming all the way past San Francisco, they perished somewhere around Eureka California just short of their destination. Us humans tend to get a little over-excited at times with certain things. So I told my self internally and told the crew that for the last couple of days it would be pertinent that all procedures up to this point remain: life-jackets AND tether worn at all times while on deck. Also, just keep extra safety conscious for the last leg. That all proved to be a good practice as the worst injury of the trip was Luke's broken toe. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell everyone about that. As mean as it may sound, it makes me giggle to remember the details of this story so I better make a new paragraph for this one.

We're creatures of habit and we all have them. One of Luke's resembles that of rats coming out in the middle of night. Probably on almost every night of the trip there would be the crumpling and rummaging sound crackling from the kitchen. Sometimes it was quick, but other times, like a heat seeking missle, when chef Louies sweet-seeking 3AM snack attack could not locate the target (cookies, chocolate, etc.) the rumbling of cupboard doors opening and closing would persist until the target was hit. Well only about a week ago the rummaging sound was drowned at by a 3AM quick machine gun fire of "son of a b$#ch!" and other related terminology. I think I had just come down 30 minutes before from a round of sail tuning on deck, so unless his leg was cut off I was too tired to inquire as to what had happened. After all those miles of rough seas and challenges, chef Louie managed to break his toe in his own kitchen under mild ocean conditions!!! Below the sink are two foot pedals for pumping water and apparently after it was a mission accomplished for the cookie hunt he made a mad dash to the deck to devour his treasure and have a smoke that he stubbed his toe and broke it. The next day it was black and blue and apparently throbbed. We put it in a brace and taped it up for the rest of the trip.

The final night on the boat....we had a visitor. I had spoke of the albatross that were with us for the entire trip. Once we turned south about 5 days or so out from Hawaii, they very quickly disappeared and were replaced by completely different birds which we could not identify. They were smaller, about the size of a seagull, but much different than albatross or seagulls. They were so sleek and beautiful. They were a very clean white and almost had a black trim around their tail feathers. The tops of their heads had a hint of tropical yellow and their thin long beaks were blue. I really liked these birds. Well on the last night one kept coming so very close to the boat. The albatross would be near the boat and I think they were looking in the water for anything being stirred up by Solis, but these white birds were different. This one in particular took a genuine interest in us....so I thought. It kept sweeping down close to deck. Then it was flying high, just around the top of the mast. I absolutely could not believe it, but it was trying to land on the top of the mast, as it swung and jerked and lurched as we pounced through the waves. It was sunset when all of this was going on and I wondered why it took such an interest in us at that time. After it gave up on the mast-landing, it took numerous swoops down toward deck. One time it was within 10 feet of me. And after some time it was trying to land on deck. Finally, he swooped down literally so close to me that I could have reached out and grabbed it, but it landed on top of the railing just feet from where I was sitting. At first it was checking me out with some reluctance, but after some minutes it quickly began cleaning itself thoroughly. I gave it some thought and realized it must just sleep/bob around in the ocean every night, then hunt during the day. Having a spot to land and clean itself must be somewhat of a great treat. After about 15 minutes of cleaning it managed to cling to the single wire railing, turned its' head backward and tuck its' beak under its feathers for a nights sleep. The level of trust of this bird was amazing. I'm sure I could have just walked over to it and grabbed it without its knowing if I wanted. I thought maybe it would be there in the morning, but after my usual rise at sunrise I did not see it. Must have taken off before sunrise for an early morning hunt. It felt kind of special having the little web footed visitor.

My anticipation for the final day was overwhelming. What it must be like to spot land...when I got up at sunrise to do the normal trimming of sails, I thoroughly scanned the horizon as a hunter must do for prey. I kept thinking I was seeing outlines but realized it was my mind making islands out of early morning clouds in the distance. So it was back to bed. By about 10AM I was out and about on deck, dad and Luke were too. I could see on the charts and GPS that we were so close and I know from experience sailing the islands in Japan about how far out you can see land on the horizon. We were beginning to be within reach but still no land. Of course I was confident it was out there, but some crazy hint of doubt was somewhere in the back of my mind saying "maybe you didn't navigate correctly and just maybe you have made a mistake...". Funny how the mind can play tricks on us sometimes. Anyway, I couldn't stand it anymore so I took my harness and clipped into a high place where I could climb up on the mast a bit and get a better viewpoint. It was about 11:30AM when I saw something. Unlike my sunrise experience where I quickly jumped to the confident place of "I an see it" only to find it was a cloud, this time I saw something, watched and waited before I became confident about it and especially before I made any announcement to the guys below who may be even more disappointed if I called "land" only to find it was a cloud. So I watched and waited...is it moving like a cloud? No. is it staying steady? Yes. My confidence meter climbed like mercury on a hot day....up to boiling point where I finally burst out and exclaimed "land!! It's land!!!!". Dad and Luke, already on deck sprang to their feet, clung onto something and locked their site on the horizon where they also confirmed my observation. It was such an exciting moment.

Some time later Luke went below to grab his normal US cell phone and attempted to make some calls. We were all amazed that he was getting reception. He began a flurry of calls to friends and family and had the biggest smile on his face. We had planned on coming into Nawiliwili harbor on the east side, but because of weather we hit Port Allen on the south side. We pulled in at 7:30 PM on the 7th. There were several boats coming in with tourists and we tied up close to them. And it was lucky we did. When we got off the boat dad could not walk. He took a few steps and could go no further. He had been very sick again just the day before so was still so very weak. The last 3 days he hardly consumed any food at all and we were extremely concerned. The guys that we met driving the tourist boats were extremely helpful. They gave us a ride to the emergency room where dad had 4 liters (over 1 whole gallon) of IV solution pumped into his arm. In addition, he was given some kind of nutritional jellies which he quickly consumed.

A nurse who got off work gave us a ride back to the boat. We are on what they call the sleepy side of the island, meaning there is really not much going on and not much open at all. We made an immediate shot from the boat to the hospital so although dad had a nutritional 1 gallon IV snack, Luke and I were still deprived. We were so hungry and had barely eaten all day. So what was open? Nothing we were told. No grocery stores, nothing. But the secretary that worked at the hospital coincidentally used to work at McDonalds. I asked if it was open, but she said we would not make it as it closed at 12. Anyway, she still had friends that worked there so she called and we actually ordered big macs and double cheeseburgers. Luke and I inhaled them before you could even say the words "big-mac". It tasted great, but I have to admit that after 28 days of altered diet my body had a middle of the night reaction and I had the strangest most terrible taste in my mouth. Very strange. But the real treat was the next morning when we took dad up to the bus stop. We stopped in this local breakfast diner with one of the greatest meals I've ever had. It was an amazing treat.

The next day Luke and I on one of the greatest "accomplishment highs" ever, took Solis up around to Nawiliwili. Solis, like us, was dying for a good shower and cleaning so we spent from 10AM until about 6PM cleaning and scrubbing. There are a actually a lot of places on the charts which say "toxic dump site" pointing probably to the days when they threw materials in certain parts of the island. I think we should have had that sign over the entrance to the boat. If you try hard enough you can probably make yourself sick just by imagining what the inside of the boat was like after 28 days with three guys. And quite honestly cleaning things was not on my prioritiy list, not on dads "ability" list and not on Luke's list of things he felt like doing so basically no cleaning occurred for basically the entire trip. (HUGE note to self: all paper plates and bowls for the next trip!!!!!)

Just a couple more things before I close this entry out. I have spent the last day and a half basically just sleeping. I didn't realize how tired out I was. We are now in a place which I would like to describe as a small paradise. Note to self: if I were to ever get married, remember this place for a honeymoon. The layout of the house is amazing. Decks all around the house, great kitchen, great bedroom and the surroundings. From the back deck lies the most majestic view of the mountains. I'm so used to seeing peaks which are only rock. But somehow here in Kauai there is an almost florescent beautiful green vegetation which covers the mountains. And it's all for me to enjoy now. It's an A-frame house with tile floors and all around are banana trees, out back is a small river and very often flocks of beautiful white birds fly by in formation. It is simply magical. Luke has been out with friends since he got here and dad and Toni are down below so I have basically had this three bedroom paradise all to myself. But I have surely needed the quiet and the rest.

So what's next? I am contemplating the next steps. Crossing from Hawaii back to California was the original plan. Give me a week or so to think about that one...I would love to do a big Q&A. But only if there are questions. I noticed throughout the blog people were asking me questions. I will hopefully be able to go through tomorrow, format and answer all of those. If anyone has additional questions, please fire away. I think it would be fun to have a dialogue about anything people are wondering about the trip.

And closing thoughts. In the next couple of days dad, Luke and I will put down our closing thoughts for the completion of this part of the journey.

For now let me again just say thank you so much to everyone for all of your support.