everyone looks dorky under water

Dive Makai, the fine folks I was diving with the last two weeks, gave me a whole CD full of photos taken on our dives as a birthday present. Though that wasn’t as great as the dive i had on my actual birthday with my man Todd Emmons (three different kinds of scorpion fish (Leaf […]

Dive Makai, the fine folks I was diving with the last two weeks, gave me a whole CD full of photos taken on our dives as a birthday present. Though that wasn’t as great as the dive i had on my actual birthday with my man Todd Emmons (three different kinds of scorpion fish (Leaf scorpion, decoy scorpion, and a huge titan scorpion) on one dive, plus we got to watch a triton’s trumpet dine on a crown-of-thorns starfish (there was much slow-mo carnage), and i got down to 150 feet in a Dr. Seuss landscape of wire coral and nitrogen narcosis.)

Still, it was pretty fuckin’ cool.

Most of the shots are, you know fish, which you’d love if you’re into that sort of thing (vs the ray-feasts-upon-the-flesh kind of fish.). But here’s one of yours truly, just to show how completely dorky i look under water. What is the deal with those chipmunk cheeks?

As usual, click for a bigger version of the image.

Karl Kona 11 06-1

I was gonna save this for some sort of HNT posting but i may have a good bruise picture for that.

me ‘n the manta

Words can’t add much here. That’s me (the one without the wings). I’m actually touching the manta (a no-no, but in the moment – well, you know how I get, I’m all hands.) click the image to get a larger version – this is from a video another diver made of last tuesday’s Manta dive. […]

Words can’t add much here.

That’s me (the one without the wings). I’m actually touching the manta (a no-no, but in the moment – well, you know how I get, I’m all hands.)

Manta

click the image to get a larger version – this is from a video another diver made of last tuesday’s Manta dive. I’d like to post a bit of the video but it’s in some weird format i can’t figure out how to convert. If anyone’s a whiz kid with the video maybe you can help me out with how to do that.

islands call me

I keep thinking of profound (or so it seems at the time, but maybe that’s the nitrogen narcosis) things to blog, when I’m under water, or on a dive boat, or looking at pretty girls sunning themselves on beaches, lizard-like in the hot sun. But then later, here in my condo, between the cooking of […]

I keep thinking of profound (or so it seems at the time, but maybe that’s the nitrogen narcosis) things to blog, when I’m under water, or on a dive boat, or looking at pretty girls sunning themselves on beaches, lizard-like in the hot sun.

But then later, here in my condo, between the cooking of dinners and the bedding-down of kids, and the daily fatigue of a trip on the go, i can’t recall what I meant to write, or i can’t summon the energy, or simply don’t have time.

I’m not complaining. Snorkeling, diving, hiking lava flows, or just laying around on a beach in the hot sun, all beat out blogging. But i had a vague notion of a daily travel blog as with my fiji trip. For some reason, it simple hasn’t seemed important.

I hope, though, to have pictures to post when i get home at the end of this week; and possibly video since I have a DVD of my manta dive last week, professionally-shot footage that one of the video people described as ‘national geographic quality’.

I’m here for three more days. Tonight, we have the full tourist experience, the luau. Tomorrow is my birthday, and i plan to spend it underwater, hopefully with an all-day adventure trip that will take me to the far-south Kona coast to dive areas that rarely see dive boats; last time I did one of these trips I saw a twelve-foot hammerhead, so I’m looking forward to it. Wednesday is my last full day here, and while plans may change, my youngest daughter wants me to rent a harley and take here for a ride. And who can say no when a pretty little girls says take me for a ride, daddy?

This trip has gone by far too quickly. I’ve been busy, yet not in any way harried. I’ve had time to do most of what i wanted to do (not all, it seems that cannot happen on a hawaii trip – i need to live here). I do not look forward to being home or to dealing with Real Life; only missing friends (both real life and virtual/distant whom I lack time to keep in touch with while I’m here) makes me in any way long for anything but this. My kids asked for my three wishes yesterday as part of some game, and my first was to live here, and the second was to transport certain key individuals here with me.

The islands call me. I hear it all the time, and never more than when I’m here. Nevermind that the islands in my genes are in a loch in scotland; this is home.

5.0 Thanksgiving

My thanksgiving day started big-island-style with a 5.0 earthquake, centered just north of Kailua-Kona on the Kohala coast – same place the last one was, a month ago (though that one was considerably larger). My condo was rattling and shaking – though i am from California so earthquakes are nothing new. I thought my kids […]

My thanksgiving day started big-island-style with a 5.0 earthquake, centered just north of Kailua-Kona on the Kohala coast – same place the last one was, a month ago (though that one was considerably larger).

My condo was rattling and shaking – though i am from California so earthquakes are nothing new. I thought my kids were doing some sort of smackdown wrestling on the stairs above my head, until I realized the shaking was in waves, and coming from behind me, not above.

Later, sipping coffee on my lanai, I heard the woman in the condo below me calling home; she was describing the ‘quake to someone on the mainland, and said ‘…and at first I thought, what are those people upstairs doing now?

‘Quakes are not a big deal around here; it’s a volcanic island, some of the newest land in the world. But still, it got people’s attention. If got mine, certainly.

My original plan for this holiday included my in-laws (you remember, in-law vs outlaw), though they wound up having to cancel for medical reasons, and a luau though we found that no one seems to run a luau for thanksgiving (imu roasted turkey sounds like a great idea to me, but what do I know.) When we didn’t find a thanksgiving luau, we consulted the in-laws and chose an island-style thanksgiving buffet at the Mauna Lani Orchid to satisfy the in-laws desire for something traditional.

Read more “5.0 Thanksgiving”

lying on a beach

I was lying on the beach – or as much beach as you get on Hawaii’s Big Island, which is more a giant hunk of lava than an island, and thus more generally rocky than sandy. I was in shady spot under a small palm tree, dozing after a picnic lunch and an hour of […]

I was lying on the beach – or as much beach as you get on Hawaii’s Big Island, which is more a giant hunk of lava than an island, and thus more generally rocky than sandy. I was in shady spot under a small palm tree, dozing after a picnic lunch and an hour of snorkeling just above Pu`uhonua o Honaunau.

As i drifted out of sleep, i noticed a woman sitting on the lava-rock wall near me

My best guess, though it can be hard to tell, is that she was in her late fourties, or her early fifties. Her hair, cut short, was a sort of color that made it hard to tell her age; hard to know if it was more gray or more sandy brown, but it was certainly somewhere between.

She was on her cell phone, facing away from me. She was loosely wrapped in a faded pāreu that looked like it was once vivid purple. I noticed her, at first, only because i could hear her voice. But then i payed more attention to her because i liked her tanned back. She was the color people get when they live here, that deep sort of tan one gets from being in the sun every day, not a vacation tan. She had the sort of athletic, muscled frame that ages well.

And then, as she moved her phone from hand to hand, the pāreu that was all she had on above the waist fell, and exposed her. I didn’t see it happen, but the faint squeak she let out drew my eye; it was uncharacteristically girlish compared to her phone voice.

I missed seeing much of her, catching only the side of her breast as she covered back up; but clearly the local man sitting nearbye with his ʻukulele did not, for i heard him saying it’s ok, Lady, I don’t mind at all, in a casually good-natured way. She made some reply about living on the far side of the island, and that there, she was naked most of the time, and so didn’t care.

I decided i liked her. She reminded me of a woman i used to know, Karen; a woman I’d long had a crush on, though with whom I’d never gone beyond kissing and some drunken, naked groping in the hot tub. Like Karen, this stranger wasn’t particularly pretty, but had an earthy, hippy-woman beauty. The kind of woman who is at ease with her body, wears what fits and is comfortable, and who is far, far sexier than she’d ever imagine herself to be.

I was on my back, arms stretched back behind my head, my old, sun-and-salt stained boonie hat tilted forward to shade my eyes. I carefully maintained the look of someone sleeping, my eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. And I watched her, and thought about what she would look like the rest of the way naked, should one see more than tanned back and the side of one accidently exposed breast.

She finished her phone call, and then stood up and looked around; she looked at me, and, i assume, figured me to be asleep. I’m an inveterate girl-watcher, and though i tend to practice the notion that when I’m looking at a pretty girl, she should know she’s being looked at (i.e. i nod and smile when caught looking), i’m also pretty good at the corner-of-the-eye method, looking while seeming not to.

She stood, turned side-on to me, and picked up a t-shirt (an over-sized red tank, roughly cut to bare the midriff), and dropped her pāreu.

Her breast, the one I could see, was lovely; almost as tan as the rest of her. I imagine they were fine and high when she was twenty, because now, at fifty, they retained a beautiful shape, yet with a natural sag that is so much prettier than most surgically enhanced breasts.

Her nipples were like little cocoa-covered truffles; chocolate brown, big as gumdrops. My mouth watered as I lay on the coarse sand, and i asked her, silently, to turn more and give me a front view.

She didn’t; she pulled on her shirt, and then turned the rest of the way toward me (or rather, toward the ocean, since she had already dismissed my existence). She took up the pāreu, pulled it loosely ’round her hips, and tied it in front; this covered her bikini bottoms from the rear, but in front, only a slip of fabric covered her.

She picked up a pair of surfer-style board shorts, old and worn and faded like her pāreu, and then casually pushed down her bikini-bottoms, stepping quickly and efficiently out of them and into her shorts, then straightening, pulling them up just slowly enough to let me see her shaved-bare pussy, just glimpse enough to fill my mind with an image that will stay a while.

And then her shorts were buttoned over her tanned belly, and she turned and waked away; and I wanted to follow her, and… And what? Thank her? Ask her out? Tell her what I was now imagining, where I wanted to put my mouth? Tell her how much I wanted to taste her now while she was still sea-salty and beach-sandy?

Maybe I should have. Maybe this would have made her day, knowing she made mine; maybe she would have gone home and slipped a finger between those smooth lips the way I wanted to, and thought about the sunburned, tattooed tourist who said sweet or dirty things to her on the road between sea and parking lot. Or maybe she just would have driven home smiling.

I didn’t though; I didn’t get up; though I did roll over, to hide the reaction my own body had to her. And I thought those thoughts and half wished I’d gotten up; and half was glad I hadn’t.

not quite island time

Well, i didn’t wind up in a broken-off tail section, though i am on a vaguely mysterious island. More tales of my trip to come (for it is too hot to sit over my computer for very long). But so far, i’ve been diving, i’ve made fresh ahi poke, i’ve had a waittress at the […]

Well, i didn’t wind up in a broken-off tail section, though i am on a vaguely mysterious island. More tales of my trip to come (for it is too hot to sit over my computer for very long).

But so far, i’ve been diving, i’ve made fresh ahi poke, i’ve had a waittress at the hard rock cafe partially disrobe to show me her tattoos, i’ve seen a weasel (ok, a mongoose, but weasel is funnier) tend to it’s, ah, personal hygene needs, and I’ve found my condo has a minimal wireless signal.

So this ain’t bad. And I’m not even quite on island time yet, which is to say, i still retain some sense of urgency. That should be gone in another day, about the same time I go to stock the condo on rum, vodka and sake.

Islandward

Well, if i ain’t packed it it ain’t going. Since I’m leaving at the crack of way-too-fucking-early, there’s none of my usual last-minute chick-minus-head running about. Next stop, Kailua Kona (via LAX). I plan to blog as i go but actual updates depend on where i find ‘net access. Updates, then, whenever.

Well, if i ain’t packed it it ain’t going. Since I’m leaving at the crack of way-too-fucking-early, there’s none of my usual last-minute chick-minus-head running about.

Next stop, Kailua Kona (via LAX).

I plan to blog as i go but actual updates depend on where i find ‘net access. Updates, then, whenever.

Flight 816

Whump That was the sound of me collapsing at the end of my week. As of now i’m on vacation, until December first. I’m not actually gone yet – that’s still (as of now) about 78 hours away. But mentally i’m already high above the pacific, thinking about hula girls and slack-key guitar, and hoping […]

Whump

That was the sound of me collapsing at the end of my week. As of now i’m on vacation, until December first.

I’m not actually gone yet – that’s still (as of now) about 78 hours away. But mentally i’m already high above the pacific, thinking about hula girls and slack-key guitar, and hoping my flight (Oceanic Air flight number 816) doesn’t find itself a little off course.

This is about a mile from my condo; the dock on the right is in front of the King Kam hotel, and it’s where the dive boat i favored used to go out (though they’ve moved north to the small boat harbor, and they’ve also sold, so i dunno if i’ll still use ’em).

Keep an eye on that web cam, you just might see me. But not, you know, doing a show. You have to go look for Merrick for that action.

It’s been a long and emotionally complicated week, and that ain’t over. My mother still needs at least five days of care in the three days I have left, my mother in law’s computer woes got worse (woise? Woes got Woise? Something like that), in that her computer went from needing a new drive to needing a new entire computer, which of course won’t get here til’ I’m gone so now I have to find her someone to set up her new mac.

And there’s other shit complicating my life, small and large, but fuck it, I’m on vacation. That is going away for the next three weeks. Meanwhile, hula girls, bikini girls, girls in wetsuits (god you know i love girls in wetsuits), and a lot of not thinking. Though if i’m lucky, some writing, and if you-all are non-lucky, there will be blogging.

Vacation. I’ve forgotten what that feels like.

Deadringer Classic Xmas sale

My mates Mark and Steve at Deadringers – who are fucking brilliant – are also just good guys. Not only are they treating me right, but they also make my favorite skull ring in the whole world, the classic: And it just got bettter – the classic is on special, normally $395, you can have […]

My mates Mark and Steve at Deadringers – who are fucking brilliant – are also just good guys.

Not only are they treating me right, but they also make my favorite skull ring in the whole world, the classic:

Classic-1

And it just got bettter – the classic is on special, normally $395, you can have one for 25% off at $295 (and a free beanie!) if you order before the end of the year.

If you’ve been lusting over this ring, this is a great price. It’s a fabulous bit of work. The pictures, though they’re much better than they used to be, still don’t do it justice, you have to get one on your finger to see how great it is.

blood on the ice

You know i tell you, any time i’m feeling stressed, i need to go to a hockey game. There’s nothing that gets it out quite like screaming and yelling, seeing guys absolutely hammering each other into the boards, and then watching the rink repair guys scrape blood off the ice before the zamboni comes out. […]

You know i tell you, any time i’m feeling stressed, i need to go to a hockey game.

There’s nothing that gets it out quite like screaming and yelling, seeing guys absolutely hammering each other into the boards, and then watching the rink repair guys scrape blood off the ice before the zamboni comes out.

Last night i watched the Sharks go ’round with the Minnesota Wild (who have a really stupid name and an ugly uniform, what are those, xmas badgers or something?) The game included the return of Sharks enforcer Scott “The Sheriff” Parker (Who my daughter thinks looks like me, so I’m pretty happy about that), and a whole lot of hitting.

I have to say – as much as I’m a life-long football fan, hockey is simply the best life sport i’ve ever seen. It just puts me in a good mood. Particularly when there’s blood.