Aloha Kauaʻi🌺

Christy

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.

Boat & Crew

Ciao Bella

Tayana, Vancouver 460

Christy

Owner

Porter

Hitching a ride

David

Owner