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Ciao Bella
Honolulu
I’m Porter, port for short, a staffy-chihuahua mix. I’ve been sailing with my mom @Christy and dad @David since I was just a pup. I was born in Waimānalo on Oʻahu as a stray and picked up by the Mōʻiliʻili Hawaiian Humane Society at 4 months old. I used to be bald and I also used to have balls. Now I have nice hair and no balls (thanks mom). I was adopted and returned the same day by my previous family, and that made me really sad, but then Christy and Dave saw me alone in the back of the kennel and gave me a forever home 🤍 I know a lot of tricks and freak out if I see turtles or dolphins or whales or seabirds or other people or pretty much anything that breathes, but I’m really chill, promise!
6 PM: We are cruising along at 6 knots across the Kaʻieʻiewaho. The wind is light and warm, and the waves are gently pushing us towards our future. Oʻahu has disappeared behind us, and only the faint glow of human life remains. Earlier, as we sailed away from Kahuku Point, I felt an intense pull to turn around. I could not take my eyes away from the mountains. To look away felt like betrayal. I thought that if I stared long enough, every ridge and every valley might burn itself into my memory, so that I would never forget. In many respects, it feels as if I’m leaving myself and all the things I love so dearly behind. Everything that’s comfortable and familiar will soon exist only in memory. It sounds foolish, because we are pursuing our dream, but I wished so deeply that we didn’t have to leave. I felt the same way nearly a decade ago when I left New Jersey. It is a bittersweet goodbye to the place where we have become ourselves. I’m on my first night watch of the first day of the rest of my life. My shift began at 6 PM and ends at 10 PM. Dave’s on until 2 AM, and I’m back on until 6 AM. I don’t mind the two evening shifts, as I get to watch the sun cast her magic across the sky, twice. The afterglow from the setting sun paints an apricot to indigo hue over the western horizon. A sliver of a moon rises directly ahead of us, and will not inhibit our stargazing tonight. All is well except for the bloody blinding stern light chaotically flickering on the stern pulpit, likely a result of poor electrical connections. Its beam catches the edge of our outboard and the life raft slung on the stern, making it less a light and more a strobe in my peripheral. I’ll fix it tomorrow. Kauaʻi is shy, I have not caught a glimpse of her mountains or light yet. She is cloaked in long white clouds. 9 PM: Since I have begun my evening log, a few things have changed. We have met the north swell, but it is kind. Bioluminescence dances in our wake like scattered stars, and the stars above look as if they are falling from the sky. Strange glowing orange orbs brighten and dim on the northern horizon. My watch partner @Port is nestled warmly in my lap. 1 AM: The wind has died, so we rolled up the jib. The main flogs when a big roller comes through. We will start the engine soon, just enough to keep our pace. 3 AM: The orbs traveled across the sky close to sea level towards Kaʻena Point on Oʻahu. There is a Space Force base on that side of the island, so perhaps we are target practice for new technology. That, or the aliens are getting too comfortable on the western front 👽 5 AM: The sky is beginning to pale, and the island is slowly revealing herself behind her curtain of clouds. Kauaʻi feels like we’re taking the final exposures on a film roll that’s captured a decade of light 🤍 9 AM: We made it to our home base for the next ~2 weeks! Ciao Bella is anchored in approximately 30’ outside of the mooring field in Hanalei Bay.
Cruised over to Kāneʻohe Bay from town with our friend Morgan. Setting ourselves up for a more northern departure for Kauaʻi tomorrow morning! Late start leaving Ala Wai. I don’t think there’s a fuel dock on Kauaʻi, so we stopped at Kewalos one more time to fill the tanks. Beat upwind until the wind totally died around China Walls, so we motor sailed most of the rest of the way. Saw a few whales rounding Makapuʻu. Anchored at Secret Beach, made pesto pasta, and passed out 💤 It’s approximately 120 miles to Hanalei, should take us ~20hrs to cross the Kaʻieʻiewaho tomorrow AM.
Briefly back in the Ala Weird before we head off to Kauaʻi. The sail back from Molokaʻi was another fun downwind sail. Hand steered most of the way because our autopilots weren’t handling the conditions as well as we were. We weren’t able to experience a lot of bucket list places in Maui county, and Big Island certainly will remain in our rear view mirror. Upwind through the Alenuihāhā isn’t something we needed to put ourselves or Porter through, especially with the conditions we’ve been having the past few weeks. So, we reluctantly left Maui, found safe harbor (and sleep) on Molokaʻi, and returned to Oʻahu to say goodbye for real this time (and fix a couple things that broke, of course). Although we have the whole world to see, there’s something about Hawaiʻi that makes you forget there’s anywhere else to be. Maybe it’s the pace or the warmth, or the way even quiet moments feel full. Every departure feels like leaving a part of ourselves behind, even as we look ahead to the horizon. I know we’ll circle back someday, shaped by the miles in between.
We rarely get to sail downwind, so the sail from Kamalō to Lono was a fun one. 20 or so kts at 180 apparent and little waves. Wind got increasingly lighter as we sailed west, and would drop from 20 to nearly 0 at some points which wasn’t so fun. We love Hale O Lono, and have the whole place to ourselves. From the shells to the stars, the safe harbor and light winds, we’re happy campers after this past week of struggling in Maui. Lono feels like an old friend🫶
We were greeted by three reef manta rays as we entered the mouth of the channel into Kamalō. We anchored in 35’ in the western finger. The winds are blowing with authority, but the motion is gentle. We have >150’ of chain rode out and our 44kg Rocna set hard. I would take these conditions over the past few evenings every day of the week! Anything for a good nights sleep. Kamalō, once named Kamaloʻo, translates to “the dry place”. The slopes of Kamakou, a shield volcano and the highest elevation on the island (just shy of 5,000’), serve as the backdrop behind Kamalō. The eastern slopes are lush and green, whereas the western slopes, true to the name, are dry.
Mala pros: crystal clear water, great holding in 50-60’, abundant sea life along the wrecked wharf (sharks, uhu, uku, spotted eagle rays, sea turtles…), morning and evening Pu’unoa beach walks. Mala cons: rolliest anchorage ever. Wind isn’t consistent enough to set a swell bridle. Boat’s pointing in the direction of the current. Swell’s on the beam. Loosing my mind! Couldn’t find anywhere better to anchor on the leeward side of west Maui or along the foothills of Haleakalā. The trades are strong through the Pailolo and Alenuihāhā, as well as through the isthmus separating the two halves of the island. Our go-to guidebooks and Navionics led us to believe there would be at least one better option than Mala. Alas, there were not. The wind and swell directions just weren’t right. One more evening of no sleep at Mala. Tomorrow we try north, or send it back to Molokai.
Spent the day exploring the Olowalu petroglyphs after a restless sleep, kept awake by the howling wind and bridle tensioning under load. The petroglyphs are nearly half a century old and include etchings of families and sails ⛵️ Olowalu went from calm to heavy trades overnight. All weather models have been wildly inaccurate. We sent the drone up to check out two anchorages to the south of us which looked better than where we were. Upon leaving Olowalu for those anchorages, the wind piped up, just shy of 40kts. I know it’s easy to exaggerate conditions on the water, but I’m not. We looked at each other, shook our heads in disbelief, and turned around. We decided to try our luck back up north. The winds lessened around Lahaina and Mala, but strengthened again towards Kaanapali. We ended up anchoring in about 50-60’ of water outside the mooring field near Mala in a sandy patch on satellite imagery. I dove on the anchor from the dingy with just enough sunlight to illuminate the seafloor to ensure she was dug well. Not our favorite anchorage, but we’ll take what we can get…
Dave and I departed early this morning before sunrise from Kaunakakai to try and beat the heavy trades to the Pailolo Channel. Shortly after our departure from Kaunakakai, we realized that was wishful thinking. We tried to hug the coast of Molokaʻi as best we could with 25 kts on the nose and wind chop, but outside of Kamalō, the wind and waves rose with the sun. We decided to make the jump across the Kalohi (Molokaʻi and Lānaʻi) and Pailolo (Molokaʻi and Maui) channels. The channels met us with teeth. Conditions in the channels were >25 kts sustained, up to 34 kts. At first, we were overpowered, but found balance with a triple reefed main and a sliver of our jib. Twice we tried our self-tacking staysail, twice we stowed it. Ultimately, it was too much sail area, so we stuck with our small jib and de-powered main. The acceleration on Ciao Bella doesn’t feel linear like our past boats felt. She doesn’t ease into speed, she lunges. You have to anticipate her sudden burst of energy, otherwise she’s hard to handle and rudely slips into a 30 degree heel that I don’t think she — or I — were meant to hold onto for long. The swell wasn’t Kaiwi-big, but it wasn’t small, either. We constantly had to pinch up to hit the waves appropriately. The trades have been blowing heavy across the state. At one point, we seriously considered turning back and cutting our losses by heading for Oʻahu, then Kauaʻi, and getting ready for the June passage north to Alaska. But something in me wasn’t ready to turn around, at least not before giving Maui a fair shot in these winds. The Big Island and the Alenuihāhā may remain on the horizon, for now. Part of my reasoning was wanting to get a better feel for how Ciao Bella performs in heavier conditions, and just as importantly, how I handle them. Dave has worked on the water and done two Pacific crossings since 2020. I can count the amount of times on one hand I’ve been in heavier conditions. It’s one thing to sail in moderate, comfortable weather. It’s another when conditions are more demanding. This wasn’t about pushing limits, it was about understanding where they are and what needs to be improved upon. Not screaming expletives when we heel over too much is one of them, lol. Alaska is beckoning, but Hawaiʻi still whispers her wisdom.
Crossing the Kaiwi this time was pretty standard, but the waves were sooo 💩. I think we’ve gotten really lucky with our recent channel crossings, so this one was a reality check! This past week on Oʻahu was potentially our last before we leave for Alaska in June. Had to wrap up a few loose ends and do some boat projects that required a dock. We made it over to Maui county and are planning on spending the next week or so over here. After, we may attempt the Alenuihāhā and check out the Kona coast of Big Island. From there, we can either practice an offshore passage to Kauaʻi or hit a few north shore anchorages on Molokai and Oʻahu one last time before we inevitably cross over to Kauaʻi.
On the last leg of our circumnav of Oʻahu, the fuel issue saga continues. The last two evenings at Pōkaʻi were quite rolly. Winds went from onshore to heavy trades the first day, so had to re-anchor as there’s not a ton of room to swing if you let out a lot of scope. We purchased this boat last October with about 250 gallons of 10 yr old diesel sitting in three large baffled black iron tanks. We hired a diesel polishing service and they didn’t complete the job ($1000 later) because their polisher broke. To get rid of diesel on island, you have to schedule a haz waste pickup at least two weeks in advance of a blue moon and after all the bureaucratic 🐂💩 it’s simply not worth anyone’s time. Not to mention disposing of that volume of diesel is also a logistical nightmare. So, our solution has been to dump additive and roundup in the tanks and run through it, refueling as necessary. We’ve gotten about 150 gal through after countless replacements of Racors and secondaries on the Yanmar which, although has been no small feat, has proven generally successful. This morning, to our dismay, we found out that our last 90 gal has turned into strawberry milk. Puttered along from Pōkaʻi to refuel another tank at the Ko Olina fuel dock. Lost power literally perpendicular to the fuel dock which was mildly traumatic and oh so embarrassing. Drained the Racor and replaced the secondary and all was well again on Ciao Bella. Barbers Pt was windy on the nose, but the waves were small so it was fine. Lots of security zones between Barbers Pt, Pearl Harbor, and Honolulu Harbor we had to avoid, plus a multitude of FADs, buoys, and tugs and barges that always seem to move towards you at the speed of light. I’m having sleep for dinner tonight 🍽️
We left Haleʻiwa this morning with light trades. No space in the harbor for transient vessels and no safe place to leave the paddle board or dingy when we had to go ashore, so unless we all packed onto the paddle board and brought it with us wherever we went, every mission to shore was a solo one. Yesterday morning, we tried to stuff the board in a mangrove to walk around town together, but were immediately met with wandering eyes from the local chronic population. The downwind sail around Kaʻena Point was ~15 kts of trades and ~5’ short period swell. I was reading ‘The Great Alone’ and Dave was watching the Manchester Utd match when a massive humpback breached less than a boats length beside us. It’s pretty late in the season for these guys over here. Caught a glimpse of them on the surface as we sailed away. We were going to anchor off of Mākua for a few hours for lunch and to dive, but the wind changed onshore and our engine began to give us some trouble again :( continued our sail to the protected Pōkaʻi Bay to try and sort out the issue this time.
Saw a few green sea turtles sunbathing on the muddy river banks. Porter fell off the board chasing a school of fish 🐠 could probably stay at least a week or two cruising north shore! Seeing if the harbor can accommodate a vessel our size, otherwise we’ll cruise to Mākua or Pōkaʻi Weds or Thurs.
We were accompanied by Hawaiian spinner and bottlenose dolphins from Kāneʻohe to Haleʻiwa 🐬 Porter is unsure if they are friends or foes! Hearing the bottlenose clicks/echolocation from the surface was 🤯 The windward side of Oʻahu is so beautiful. I wish there were more places to anchor over here. Had a following swell which made the sail from Kāneʻohe to Haleʻiwa speedy. Around Kahuku point, the seas were confused with colliding currents. Today the conditions are super ideal, but I can imagine that with stronger trades and bigger swell, this area would be really dangerous, so would stay well offshore. Passed by Waimea to see if we could anchor there, but it looked rolly and the shore break was still too big to land the dink ashore, so we decided to anchor outside of Haleʻiwa Harbor. Overall a nice motor-sail. On a negative note, our fridge and freezers don’t cool when the boat is moving (…lol). So, gotta fix that one asap. ☠️
Explored the valley in the rain and came across a few hidden gems 💎 This unprotected bay is super glassy at the moment, but there’s some minor swell from the NE, so it’s rolly. We most likely won’t stay the evening since we’re at a constant 15 degree heel from port to stb and the protected Kāneʻohe Bay is only an hour away. We’ll return there for the evening before we head north to Waimea or Haleʻiwa early tomorrow AM.
Motored to Kahana Bay today with <10 kts of wind. Saw a shark outside of the commercial channel, not sure what kind, and lightning over the mountains in the distance. The conditions for the past week have been glassy in the morning, variable winds as the land heats up, light drizzle in the mid-afternoon, and glassy in the evenings. That is my hope for tonight, as right now it’s super rolly 🥴 We’ve only ever seen one other vessel anchored in Kahana Bay over the past decade, so it seems relatively uncommon. There is a narrow, unmarked channel flanked only by breakers. The steep incline of the channel begins at ~90’ and the inner anchorage is ~30’. About to head up the stream that feeds into the bay with the dingy to explore Ahupuaʻa ʻO Kahana State Park :)
Two resident mantas swam past us on our way out of Kamalō. The water is a bit murky here so we didn’t jump in, just saw them from the surface. We left with about 15-20kts on our 120, which quickly dropped off to <10kts around Kaunakakai. Tried jibing our way home, but we were going way too slow, so decided to motor sail once again. Once we reached W Molokai it was completely dead which conveniently coincided with our engine beginning to bog….again. Doesn’t seem like she wants to exceed 2000rpm, but that gets us to about 5kts so it’s not the worst. Our ✨brand new✨alternator also stopped charging, so I tried to sort that out underway to no avail. Slowly crossed the Kaiwi with 0 knots and cabbage patch seas around penguin banks. Main luffed constantly, so we tried dropping it, but the boat became exponentially unstable, so we raised it again and accepted the fate of our next few hours…which involved shattering a full wine bottle in the galley and finding a literal lake in the pantry beneath the freezer (???!!!). These inter-island shake downs before the jump across the pond in a few months are doing their job. Very fun week with very fun friends 🤍 grateful!
Motor sailed from Olowalu to Kamalō. Olowalu was so, so beautiful. Went diving after breakfast around 8 am. The water was chilly but refreshing. Followed W Maui coastline and jumped off towards Molokai from Lahaina. The ʻAuʻau, Pailolo, and Kalohi channels are like lakes today…I feel like we’re in a dream! We were debating on anchoring Kamalō for diving and mantas, Kaunakakai for lava flows at Paddler’s and Molokai hot bread, or Lono for bonfires and shelling. All six onboard agreed on Kamalō 🤿 Anchored in about 30’ with some west wind keeping the cabin cool. Naps, food, and diving are in order ✍🏽
Motor sailed across the ‘Au’au channel to a new anchorage in front of Olowalu beach on West Maui. Channel crossing was slow, generally less than 10 kts of wind with a short period of ~20 kts. Mama and baby whales put on a show on the way over🤍 Teaching everyone how to handle Ciao Bella in a whale minefield is fun :) Anchored in approx. 30’ of water at Olowalu. Patches of muddy sand are surrounded by beautiful coral. Cruised over to Mitch’s cat ‘Odyssey’ for drinks 🍻The mountains on W Maui are unbelievable.
Put some hours on the Yanmar today motor sailing from the Ala Wai to Manele. Anchored as the sun set! Ready to eat and sleep 💤
We left Nanahoa a day earlier than anticipated due to aforementioned engine issues. With anchoring in unfamiliar places off the table without our engine, and the forecast calling for light winds in the coming days, we decided to head back to town early. While sailing in the lee of Lānaʻi, I worked on troubleshooting the engine. The drain plug on the secondary Yanmar fuel filter wouldn’t seat properly, which we suspected was allowing air to enter the system and causing the engine to stall. Swapping out the filter didn’t help. A friend suggested bypassing the secondary filter entirely, routing fuel directly from the primary Racor to the injection pump. New parts are ordered, and we’ve scheduled a session with a diesel mechanic to inspect the rest of the system in the next few days. As the day progressed, conditions in the Kaʻiwi Channel built beyond the forecast. Instead of the expected trades, we faced sustained 22–25 knots on the nose (of course) with a short period 10–15 ft north swell on our starboard beam. We were much more south than we’d have liked to be which brought us over Penguin Banks (a now-submerged shield volcano that rises to about 200 feet deep compared to the Kaʻiwi’s 2,300 feet). Great for fishing, not so much for sailing. We didn’t anticipate needing our third reef on Ciao Bella’s first ‘real’ shakedown sail, but there we were. With an early morning ETA, we settled in for a long, wet night as Ciao Bella pounded into the wind and waves. A few unplanned saltwater showers kept us awake (and cold). As the sun dipped below the horizon, a small pod of dolphins (bottlenose, maybe?) appeared off our starboard beam. In the distance, a squall loomed over Oʻahu. @David brewed hot coffee and hand-steered most of the way after dark. The wind died as we entered Māmala Bay, and thankfully, this time, the engine pulled through. An improvised fix that worked, at least for now!