Our Boat: The s/v Nalani

This is our boat. We will be living on this boat for the next 15 months (with some short breaks home every 3-4 months).  She is a 2000 Moody 46 cutter named Nalani (which means "Serene Skies").  Finding her was a multi-year, multi-state process.  We traveled to Rhode Island, Maryland, California, and, finally, Florida, where Gary first met her.  We'd fallen in love with the Moody layout many years before and were waiting for just the right boat.  She was berthed in Florida, so Gary, Elliott, Gary's dad, and two of Gary's classmates from college sailed her home in April of last year.  I was a little nervous about Elliott sailing 100 miles from land, but they made it home in good time and in fairly good shape.  One storm made them a bit nervous and took out the whisker pole, but other than that, it was a smooth cruise.

We have two staterooms, both with adjoining full heads.  A double bunkroom is on the port side adjacent to the forward cabin.  A pilot berth sits above tool lockers in the companionway next to the aft cabin, but in order to sleep there, a small portion of the bulkhead can be removed to allow the feet to stretch through.  There is a decent-sized galley with lots of storage and includes a microwave, freezer, and good-sized fridge.  No more iceboxes for us!  The boat, when we bought her, had so much electronics on board; THREE televisions (really?), and lots of stereo equipment, hundreds of pounds of which have been removed.  Her layout is comfortable and she's a real beauty.  A center cockpit really changes the way you feel when you sail.  Our old boat, which is for sale, is a 1969 Morgan 34.  She's a great sailer and wonderful for the bay as she only draws three feet, but it used to make my kids nervous when we heeled while moving.  With Nalani, that sensation is much lessened.

The cockpit is large enough to allow for a good-sized group to enjoy a sail and, on cool and bug-free nights, provides a good spot for comfy sleep.  Our sitting areas are blue, not the yellow as shown above.

Having a larger boat is a little scary at times, especially coming into our slip.  Pushing off on the Morgan was a breeze; pushing off the pilings with this big momma is a lot of hard work.  Took me by surprise the first time I was asked to help out.  Even with all my might, nothing was happening until my son came over to help.

The boat has heat and air conditioning, but even though some of these days have been brutal, we've not used the air so that we can acclimate to the conditions, which will come in handy when we travel to tropical climes later in the year.  I could see us using it at some point at dock, but anchored out, it is very rare not to have any air movement at all.

One of our favorite parts of the boat is the swim transom; this is part of the boat that swings down in the back to provide a platform on which to stand, sit, and eventually jump in the water for a swim.  It also makes getting into our dinghy so much easier than going over the side with a ladder.  

So, that is Nalani, our current home; when she came into the family, we had a list of 81 things to fix.  After a bit, that list grew, but it is slowly going down.  Advice to those who are buying a boat; check the little things.  While this boat is awesome, we would have loved not having to do any maintenance in order to leave the dock.  Wait!  What am I thinking?  This is a boat.  The old saying is true -- A boat is a hole in the water you throw money into.  But just remember, there's much fun to be had before and after that throwing.

Train of Thought When Presented With the Idea of Being on a Boat for 15 Months

Well, okay, really?

But my GRANDBABIES!

Okay, maybe I can do it.  What about all the provisioning?  What if I forget something?  What if we run out of horseradish when we're only halfway up the oceanside of the U.S.?

I really am not a sailor, you know.  I may have been sailing for 20+ years, but it's really been passive sailing.  Gary always takes care of anything and would prefer it that way.  My skills are not up to snuff.   Plus, I have PTSD--I've forgotten everything I never knew about sailing anyway.

And what about my GRANDBABIES!?!?!?  I need to see them every couple of days, really, or they will forget me.  And I live for those baby hugs (and the sweet times I spend with their parents).

Do I need a license to sail?  Do I need a title?  Do I need a special hat?  I like hats.

What about my house concerts?  I need them and the camaraderie they bring to my life every month.  Yikes.

Aren't I too fat?  How can these old bones scramble all over the boat anymore?  Maybe 10 years ago . . . .

I will miss my girlfriends and our monthly gatherings.  I love my girlfriends.  Can we invite them on the boat for the weekend?  And you just not come?  Oh.

So, I found a really cool website and I'm going to buy everything she recommends for every part of the boat so that I feel secure.  Okay, maybe it won't work, but I'll feel better going into it having spent all this money.  Understand?  Oh.

Did you see the cute T-shirts I bought?  This one says, "Captain."  No, it's not for you, it's for me.   Oh.

What if I fall off the boat and you don't notice and I get eaten by sharks?  Oh.

Spar Trek:  Boldly Golden Where Nalani Has Never Been Before (thank you, Tim Garrett)

I blame it all on the boy.  Almost from the time he could speak, my youngest son has wanted to go to "boat school," the on-the-sea form of home school.  We always played along with him, though Gary had the more wistful look in his eye.  I never banked on it really happening.  I figured the more years I acquired and the more weight under my belt would make the idea less attractive.

Then we found THE boat.  And then we bought her.  Uh-oh.  It got serious all of a sudden.  So last winter, our now 15-year-old says that he wanted to be homeschooled for his sophomore year in high school.   My husband's brain, psycho computer that it is, thought that if the son wanted to be homeschooled, maybe we could do something as a family that would make it a fantastic learning experience.  Thus, this odyssey was born.

We moved aboard a week ago.  I got sick with an upper respiratory infection the same day.  It was also hot as hell and very uncomfortable.   More than a few times, I threw my hands up in the air saying, "I'm already so over this."  But stuff got unpacked and stowed, I got meds, and the weather has cooled to only slightly uncomfortable temperatures.  Plus, the restaurant at the top of the hill makes some pretty fine sweet tea, an anchoring tie if ever there was one.

Hapuna Bay Beach, Hawai'i -- December 27, 2008

Hapuna Bay Beach, Hawai'i -- Making our way an hour-and-a-half from Pahala to Hapuna Bay, we encountered the interesting and endangered Hawaiian Goose, the state bird, also known as the "Ne ne" (pronounced as "nay nay"). These geese have adapted to the harsh lava terrain by growing claws instead of foot webbing and their wings are adapted more for short flights. Spitting little lava pebbles as we slowed down to get some pictures, several cars behind us were surprised by our change in speed; we learned a new meaning for the word "aloha."

After getting a few snaps of these very docile birds, we continued on our way higher and higher up to the crest of more than 4000 feet by the Volcanoes National Park; a sniff of a strong odor meant that we were having a strong vog* day. We rolled up the windows and recirculated the air inside the car until the outside air cleared. We drove north towards Hilo and then west around the top curve of the island to make our way to the Kohala Coast. We drove through gulch and waterfall country, through plains and ranchlands, and finally saw the coast and made our way to one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen.

Silky soft sand, a gentle breeze, warm water, gentle waves perfect for bodyboarding, a great bay in a very protected setting. Even though the day was warm (in the 80s--at the moment--here, you can blink and the weather changes), the sand was perfectly cool to walk upon.

Elliott ran to the water and swam and romped and bodysurfed for hours. Our friends were leaving today, but they wanted a last bit of time at this beach, which an online friend had suggested to me (thanks, Oona!).

As I got settled on the beach, I overheard a woman behind me telling her companion about the whales following other whales, and so on. I had to ask her whether there had been any whale sightings; she said yes, and pointed to the sea as one of the behemoths jumped out of the water in a wonderful display of black and white.

The only other time I had seen whales was in Sayulita, Mexico from a huge distance and I could barely make out their water spouts; these were much closer and the water spouts looked huge. Another woman told me that the water spouts have been measured at 300 miles per hour! After a few small leaps, the action died down and I figured the show was over for the day, so we ate lunch, chatted, took photos, swam, and sunned.

After Gary left to take our friends to the airport, the pod of whales came through again! This time, they were coming way up out of the water, turning in the air, and falling back in. It was so magnificent that I almost forgot to take photos. The one in my photo album that shows the whale is grainy and not very good, but it is a good reminder for my memory.

This beautiful vacation is almost over, just a few more days to go. Each day has brought a new discovery or experience that makes me more and more in awe of this majestic island. When I return to the mainland, I will write more in-depth stories of my days here; I've kept notes in my journal to keep things fresh.

Coming here has opened my eyes to just how varied a place our earth is and I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to exploring more and more of it with each new step on this blessed soil.



* vog is a volcano term for high levels of gas emitted from the volcano that mixes with water vapor and sulfur dioxide--smells yucky and can be dangerous to your health

Monsoon . . . .

. . . well, that's what it feels like today. Twelve straight hours of heavy rain; flash-flood warnings, and no sign of the downpour letting up. After a very exciting day yesterday four-wheeling through miles of wild and wacky dirt and boulder trails, finding the Green Sand Beach, realizing we had to climb down a cliff to get there (!!!), enjoying a gorgeous afternoon sunning and bodysurfing, we started our trek home and the rains start.

Lightning in the distance over the far mountains got closer and closer and louder and louder. The rain came in spurts, building as we drove up the coast from the Southernmost point in the United States to our little village of Pahala.

During a lull in the weather, Gary started a fire in the outdoor lava rock grill at the house while Morgan and I concocted a very special marinade for the chicken--soy sauce, island honey, pineapple, and garlic. Try it, it's amazingly good!

Gary slapped the chicken onto the grill and down came the rain; he stalwartly stayed out there, umbrella covering the grill, until all the grilling was done: twelve pieces of chicken, romaine lettuce, and fresh pineapple rings. The rain did not let up. He came in soaked but successful and the dinner, which also included garlicky green beans, was super delicious.

A plus with the rain is that the Jeep is a lot cleaner than when we arrived last night after our cross-country trek. We had so much fun, yet there were quite a few stressful moments when we considered walking--sraight up runs where only sky was visible as we climbed a very steep incline or red dirt where all we saw were boulders and mud. Inside the jeep, we were rolled around like dice in a gambler's hand. Yeehaw!

I was never so happy to arrive at a destination, but THEN, much to my chagrin, the Green Sand Beach was as the bottom of a very long drop in the bowl of Mahala Bay. Very picturesque and very green, but we had to climb down--yikes! Strapping our bags onto our backs, we made our way downn the "steps" into the bowl--ended up not being as harrowing as it looked from above, but STILL.

After a great lunch of tomato, cucumber, cheese, and avocado sandwiches on the amazing sweet bread they have here, the frolicking began. Much bodysurfing was done by the group while I totally enjoyed protecting the shoreline from pirate marauders and sharks. A few green turtles poked their heads up out of the water to see what was going on.

It was a terrific day by anybody's standards. We cursed the guidebook that called this area a "mild natural curiosity." Phooey on them! Just wait until I write my retaliatory notes. En garde!

Photographs and Memories (with a nod to Jim Croce)

For photos from the Hawai'i trip, please visit here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/11609140@N03/sets/72157611983868105/

For photos from Paris and Etrepy, France, please visit here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/11609140@N03/sets/72157612037542962/


More travelogues from the Hawai'i trip are on the horizon! Happy reading!

The Big Island -- Getting There

The flight from Baltimore to Phoenix, Arizona (the first leg of our trip to the Big Island of Hawai’i) left at 7am on Saturday, December 20. We stayed at the Sheraton near the airport Friday night so that we could just roll out of bed in the morning, hop the airport shuttle, and leave the car until we returned in a few weeks. Much easier than getting up at 3am and driving in the hopes of making it to the airport on time; I’m always eagerly happy to alleviate any amount of stress during the adventures of travelling.

Made the flight on time, but was sad to find out that when the refreshment carts rolled around, we were asked to PAY for drinks and food. This was so different from my flights to and from France; on those flights, everything was gratis (yes, I know I probably paid for it somewhere, but still . . .). We had delicious meals with bread and cheese and wine and even Champagne on the return trip. And now, here I’m finding I am asked to pay $7.00 for a half sandwich and a few pieces of fruit. Sad, sad, sad.

But I digress. The first leg was a little over six hours, with the second running about seven hours. Elliott was surprisingly easy to keep busy as he had just received a PSP game system from his grandparents the night before for Hanukah. I found it hard to sleep in those cramped seats and wished the whole row would clear out so that I could stretch out and snooze. A little stress arose when the pilot announced that we were running a bit late and that those of us going on to Hawai’I may have a run to make the connection.

Run we did, and we made the connection with just minutes to spare. On the next flight, I mused about how we had gotten to the point of taking such a big trip as a family. A friend from my Fellowship owns a house in Pahala, on the K’au side of the island. (After being there for a few days, I called it the “wild” side because it was so far away from the resort side and we could drive for miles and not meet another car. That, and the fact that the Kilauea volcano exploded again as early as April of this year.) Anyway, my friend mentioned the house, she had taken a friend with her, and he showed me a picture of the volcano and the seed was planted in my head.

I do things rather spontaneously, though I do like some planning, but for some reason, I knew we had to go to Hawai’i. The fact that the house was off the beaten track helped; I love staying at a resort as much as the next person, but you really don’t get the flavor of where you are visiting by staying in a hotel or resort. You’re shown only a certain side of the place unless you choose to travel outside the resort. By staying in a village with mostly permanent residents, we would be in the mix. I liked that idea.

So, almost as soon as I got back from Europe, we worked on getting this trip together. Quite a few people were surprised that we opted to bring Elliott along, thinking it would be a romantic getaway, but it was never a question for us. We knew he would love it; he’s a beach boy at heart.

When we got to the Kona International Airport, we were happily surprised to find an almost quaint airport; we disembarked via air steps (last time that happened was in Mexico) and the airport was mostly open air. What a refreshing change from endless glass walls and monotonously long hallways!

Retrieving our baggage, I jokingly asked where the Hawai’ian girls were with the leis who are supposed to greet us when we land. Too many viewings of Elvis Presley’s “Blue Hawai’I” have jaded me. Alas! That tradition is no longer.

After our bags had been fetched, Elliott and I grabbed lighter shirts and went to find a place to change. As we met up again and turned the corner to meet up with Gary, there he was with leis for the both of us. How wonderful! The beautiful scents washed over us and I finally felt we had arrived.

We rented a convertible car for the trip, so, with top down, we started our trip to the house in Pahala. We drove by coffee plantations, art studios, surf shops, macadamia nut plantations, rain forests, and too many flowering plants to count. Up and up we went and our ears popped. The scents were delicious, the sun warm, and the surf was up.

The house in Pahala was perfect; we pulled in under the carport, and settled in. A large yard surrounded the house, with springy, yes, springy, grass in the yard. It felt like you could bounce on it. Flowering and fruiting trees in the back yard drew us in with the colors and aromas. Pahala is a small town, with a mixture of folks, but since Hawai’I is made up of a variety of people, we were not surprised.

We had done some grocery shopping just south of Pahala on the way to the house and suffered from a bit of sticker shock until we realized that most of the items we picked up had to be shipped from somewhere else. The fresh fruits and some meats were very inexpensive, surprisingly. We picked up a loaf of Hawai’ian bread, which proved to be the beginning of a sweet addiction. The local bakery there in Naalehu, called the Punalu’u Bakery, bakes fresh every day a wonderfully delicious bread that they shape into long loaves, rolls, or buns. They also bake buttery shortbread cookies enhanced with amazing flavors of banana, coconut, coffee, ginger, guava, passion fruit, and pineapple. Here’s their website in case you’re interested in some of their goods: www.bakeshophawaii.com

That night, groceries unpacked and luggage stowed, we snuggled down in our beds. We all had a hard time sleeping, not just because we were in a new place, but because we knew that we were in a very special place and blessed to have the opportunity to spend time here discovering the Big Island’s rugged beauty and sultry charm.

Next: Black Sand Beach, Yellow Butterflies, and Green Turtles