It’s a Looong Way From Aotearoa …

Kiaora! I mean Iaorana!  O wait, Aloha/Howzit brah!

Looking back at the last two months since Hikianalia was launched and the over 4,000 miles she has traveled, I’ve been lucky enough to have had the opportunity to be aboard for the whole journey and have experienced nearly every moment of her time on the water.  As we approach Hilo, I now have to reflect on all the experiences that we’ve had on this waʻa, and am having a hard time putting into words all the things both crews have experienced since Aotearoa.

There’s been the blessing of the canoe itself and seeing Hikianalia touch the water for the first time, all the aloha the Maori people gave us while in their home, Uncle Nainoa telling us of Hōkūleʻa arriving in Aotearoa at Waitangi, visiting Uncle Hector in Aurere and seeing his giant star compass in his yard, putting the finishing touches on the canoe every day for two weeks straight making her ready to sail, the maiden voyage to Tahiti alongside the homecoming Faafaite, papa ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi/kepani and joke time with Uncle Bruce, Kealoha, Kaleo and Saki from 10pm-2am during leg one, freezing on the water at 35 degrees south, Uncle Gary’s Soup Kitchen, the arrival and welcoming ceremony in Mahina, sail training in Moorea with the leg two crew, all the moolelo of Moorea, enjoying all the music and mele of the Faafaite crew, leaving Tahiti for the pathway of our kūpuna, getting our butts whooped for a week straight by the ITCZ, Keli’s Aku Bone Lounge, seeing the stars change from Aotearoa to Tahiti and then to Hawaiʻi, all the thousands and thousands of hoailona for the past two months, hopefully soon to be seeing Moku o Keawe being pulled out of the water by Hikianalia, and many more that I have not mentioned.

For myself, Uncle Maka, Mike Taylor, Saki Uchida, and Hiapo Elderts, who have all been with the canoe since day one, it is almost a bittersweet ending to the first chapter of an amazing journey that will hopefully continue into the upcoming Worldwide Voyage. (Although for anyone that needs to find Uncle Maka, I think he’s made himself a new home on the canoe.)  Since the beginning, the feeling I’ve had from Hikianalia is that all she wants to do is come home, so let’s all welcome her as she approaches her new puʻuhonua.

Brad Ka‘aleleo Wong

Howzit from da galley.

Sailing da deep blue sea and cooking fo’ da crew is a new and welcome challenge….writing a blog is scary – but wotevaz….here I go.

I have been honored wit da kuleana of crew cook and quartermastah by Captain Bob.  I am grateful he had da faith in me to take it on.  Mahalo to Lita and her team fo’ doin an unreel and fully appreciated job on organizing all our food and supplies fo’ Hikianalia.  Without you guyz….we could not sail.  Mahalo too to Heidi fo’ reorganizing leg two stuffs as she was getting off her leg in Tahiti.  Aaaaah…. you guyz are my heroes…beeg time.  Mauruuru roa to Kawika, Moeata, Rereao & Tutavae for assisting us while provisioning fo’ Hikianalia.  Mahalo to Saki and Brenda – I appreciate your time in helping me pick up all da stuffs.  Mauruuru roa to all our Tahiti ohana foa all yoa generous gifts of fresh fruits and vegies – we are all so very grateful.   Also, tanx Gary fo’ yoa mentoring in Papeete – I truly appreciated all yoa advice.  AND, tanx to Gary, I have humangous slippahz fo’ fill.  (Gary’s one galley legend).

Cooking down unda in da galley can drive you to insanity – but den u laff…not luff…..and it’s all good.  My crewmates dunno wot dea missing.  Rock and roll babe.  As my watch captain Maka teaches how to be one wit da canoe and steering da hoe, he explains it’s like a dance – so too in da galley.  Gotta feel da pitch, rocks, rolls, bumps, glides, sways, kicks, rumblings, and dat aahsum vibration thru da hull.  Slicing, dicing, chopping, cutting, pouring, stirring, standing (balancing) is a dance.  Gotta time da motion, especially when knife in hand.  I usually have one mean lean into da counter, but once in a while da kick comes and my gripping toes will lose da grip and I’ll hit a hot pot or da hot oven (yes an oven!) — burn marks are badges of honor (ha ha – I’m so honored).

“Hanapaʻa!” is music to my ears.  Keala has done a great job catching us fish.  I know da crew wuz keepin score – but to me both Keala and da fish are WINNAHZ! Fresh fish!!  Holy ono!  Holy aku!  Holy mahi mahi!  Dis has been a dream of mines…(if sailing on Hikianalia wasn’t enuf).   When watching fishing shows and dey catch da fish..an den clean and eat em on da boat – I always dreamed of having dis fresh fish.  Line to galley, where wasabi and shoyu awaits – dream fulfilled!….and on Hikianalia – even bettah.  I am so stoked.  Mauruuru Keala and Kanaloa.

Bein da crew cook is  intimidating (doesn’t help following da legend), but my crewmates have been supah supportive and helpful.  At home I cook fo’ two (simple), dea stay nuttin simple about cooking fo 15.  Everything is huge – da portions, da pots, pans, bowls, kettle.  I am 5’1” and tankfully born to fit inside da low ceiling galley.  A funny site my crewmates don’t see, however, is me trying to peer over da pot’s rim.  Mauruuru roa to my Hikianalia crewmates…you have all made dis experience so wonderful.

I also want say mauruuru roa to all our Tahiti ʻohana.  We learned so much from our Faafaite brothers and sisters.  Mauruuru fo’ sharing with us so much from yoa hearts.  Mauruuru fo’ also driving us everywhere!  I know I speak fo’ all of us by saying we are foreva grateful.  Mauruuru to da Tautira ohana – we were so honored to visit with you – it was certainly an honor.  Mauruuru to Temarama and your ʻohana fo sharing your home wit all of us.  All of your unconditional love and support for all of us is overwhelming; it made it difficult to leave your embrace and your beautiful home.

Before dis journey, I was filled with so much emotion – excited, honored, grateful, nervous and completely humbled.  I am still feeling all dat and more, but I have not yet been able fo’ express deez emotions in words.  My journal is blank, except for some food notes.  (fo’ reelz)    So to those I wish to express these deep emotions and appreciation – my bettah haff Kiki, Captain Bob, Nainoa, Bruce, all PVS (leadership and fellow crewmates), Tahiti ʻohana, my two work places – Ethan and Milton, and to my ʻohana and frenz, and dis precious Hikianalia crew/ʻohana – please look deep in my heart and there you will find my gratitude and appreciation that I am not yet able fo’ express in words.

Aloha nui nui, Keli

Aloha mai kākou,

Although we face a variety of challenges from day to day aboard Hikianalia and are learning a great deal in the process (about her AND ourselves), there are certain small pleasures that I (and others) relish.

DRY FEET: on deck, our feet are constantly inundated with seawater. Even when below deck, most everything (our garments, our possessions, ourselves) remains wet. Brenda, Saki, and others swear by baby powder to remedy this excess of moisture. I haven’t yet resorted to it (though I’ve been eyeing my bunkmate Krista’s supply), but I definitely get my best zzzz’s with dry toes.

GETTING SPLASHED/SOAKED UNEXPECTEDLY: despite dwelling within the ‘akea (starboard/windward) hull of the wa’a, I haven’t yet gotten completely dowsed by a rogue wave while emerging from my hatch. Nevertheless, rarely have I been able to successfully avoid getting splashed once on deck — just ask Keli (who always just happens to be there to laugh at me). Thanks to the warm tropical air, these soakings aren’t the most unpleasant of experiences, but the suddenness of the water’s impact is often startling, causing its victim(s) to issue a prolonged primal shriek that, in turn, serves as instant entertainment for all those bearing witness. Especially funny have been Keala’s and Brad’s dramatic attempts to hide behind something at the very last second (when they aren’t successful).

CRITTERS: many of us have pets (and/or human beings) who we miss dearly and with whom we can’t wait to reunite, once back home. Whether indicating our proximity to land or just showing off how perfectly adapted they are to life at sea, the presence of birds at any point during our trip has been highly appreciated. In fact, just yesterday, a precocious little tern made several attempts to board our craft. During its first appearance, I was at the bow with Keala, on stand-by with the jib sheet during some light rain, when Saki yelled, “Darienne!!” I turned back towards her and braced myself, unsure of her warning, when I saw the tern hovering less than 5 feet away from me, at which point, Saki adamantly declared, “It’s SO cute!” With my free hand, I tried to offer it a cracker, which it rejected in favor of a few pecks of accumulated rainwater from the railing. Soon after, it headed to the bow to try and nest in Nikki’s hair as she was bathing. Although we’re happy with our sea birds, copepods, and nocturnal phosphorescent creatures, we’re also keeping our fingers crossed for a cetacean sighting before we reach Hilo.

“BEAR” NECESSITIES: there are people who like chocolate, and then there’s a certain crew member, who we (including he himself) affectionately refer to as “the bear” during the nighttime hours. Prior to this trip, I only knew one side of this makua: a kumu whose ‘ike about and aloha for our pae ‘āina were boundless. So, too, it seems is his desire for all the pudding, m&m’s, and beef jerky onboard. After the sun sets, whenever the bench containing our deck snacks is even slightly cracked, he will be at your side, propositioning you for a share in its contents using rhyming sweet-talk. More than once, his sleight of hand with snacks under the cover of dark has backfired to everyone’s (including his) amusement, which he refers to as “bear traps.” In any case, we love our bear, who has since inspired other “baby bears” among our crew.

THE SWEEP: single-handedly steering using the hoe ‘uli is a highly invigorating experience. Zooming up and down wave troughs and crests at 10+ knots while wrangling the bobbing, jerking handle of the sweep can feel like an event out of some kind of extreme marine rodeo (which might exist someday, Uncle ‘Onohi?). As us newbies try to improve our technique day by day, even the best of our helms-people occasionally find themselves in such compromised positions as “the turtle” or “the cockroach” while struggling to maintain control over the sweep. Once again, out of fear of pain and/or ridicule, the unfortunate steersperson who falls victim to the hoe ‘uli will usually make an involuntary animal noise that immediately draws everyone else’s attention and (once assured of the steersperson’s safety) laughter.

These and all the moments in between are what I will miss most once this voyage is over, but in the mean time, I am grateful for all the wonderful people around me who like to laugh and are humble enough to laugh at themselves, from time to time.

Me ke aloha pau’ole,
Darienne