Boat Owners Again

 

Patrick, Kenzie, Finn & Fjord in front of our 1980 Ericson 30

These are but a few glimpses into the wonderful (and expensive) world of sailing in which we find ourselves.  

Story time:

Back in December I was doing my hourly scan of  Craigslist to see if I could find anything.  Lo and behold I see and ad for a 30' Ericson sloop for cheap...like MY price range cheap.  I put it in my mind, and contacted the owners right away.  After I dropped Kenzie and the boys off in Utah, I figured I would make the most of my airport run and check out the boat while I was down in town [Honolulu].  I saw the boat, it looked to be sold, but the previous owners lived aboard for nearly 4 years and it was covered in junk.  The interior looked scary, there were empty prescription bottles everywhere, so many cigarete butts, and a few bongs lying around.  Anyway, fast forward a few months.  I kept tabs on the boat, waiting for when they would actually pull the trigger to sell it.  Finally in May they were ready.  I went down to scrape the bottom clean.  As I worked on the boat, and they moved their stuff off, the guy started freaking out because I was getting too close to the through hulls and he was worried I'd cause a leak.  That troubled me.  I spent a couple hours chipping barnacles off of the bottom of the boat.  It looked like an alien landscape!  There were so many tube worms, crabs, and soft corals that I was pretty sure I saw some new species I had never witnessed in the coral reefs around the island.  After cleaning it, we went back down the next day to hopefully sail it away to a new dock.  In the end, we did all the paperwork and stayed at the Ke'ehi Small Boat Harbor temporarily for about 3 weeks.  It was right under the airport takeoff zone, so it got kinda loud. 

On our first sail out, we brought along some friends and decided to just sail the whole way.  I swam a line out to a pillar in the bay, pulled the boat back and let us drift so we were pointing into the wind, then popped up the jib (which ended up being a tiny sail, almost a storm jib) and shoved off.  We started sailing in the gusty weather...the wrong way.  We headed back to a dock, almost bumped into another boat.  Finally got her flipped around, and went sailing.  It was all pretty uneventful, till we started coming back in.  Other guys came out on their sailboat to rescue us.  They respected me for trying to do it all with sail, but thought it was foolhardy with the kids aboard, and the reef being so close.  The channel to get in and out of the harbor is about 500' wide, and very long.  It takes a good half hour just to get OUT of the harbor.  As the guys pulled close in their 27' albin vega sloop, a pod of dolphins came to play.  They put on quite the show!  They would dive under the boats, hop in the air, twirl, and converge as the rode down the face of a wave.

Riley, a skipper who lives on a Dreadnought 32 when he's not playing "deadliest catch" up in Alaska hopped across from one boat to ours.  He took over.  Normally my pride would have been injured, but it was the first time on a new boat in a new harbor in a new ocean.  I was a little reluctant to hand over the helm, but at the same time willing to learn.  We put up the mainsail to balance out the rig and allow us to tack.  We were able to head back in all the way up the long channel and tie up at an end dock safely.  Riley went through at least 4 beers completing this maneuver.  We then "hip-tied" an inflatable dinghy to the side, and motored to a dock.  Hopefully we get better at this docking and undocking thing.

So much to do, so little time

 

Now that I have your attention, let me just say that we had to pay money to go out, and then TRY to see sharks to find them.  I know people get scared about them being in the water, but for the most part, they don't care about you.  Unlike what Rob Schneider says in 50 First Dates, sharks are not like dogs. sharks are like cats.  I feel like dolphins are the golden retrievers of the sea, and sharks are the cats, they kind of prowl around, take care of themselves, and will even curl up if you pet them right.  They are apex predators, but unless they are bigger than you, it would seem to be a calorie deficient activity to attack a human when there are so many more bite sized fish around. .  When the engines on this tour boat were revved, the sharks frenzied around playing in the bubbles.  As soon as we got in the water with them: crickets.  The sharks were 50-60 feet down.  It was amazing and we want to go back. The experience was a little disappointing, but at the same time it really helped Kenzie's apprehension about having our babies in the water.  They love to adventure, and we love to share with them.

One thing we love to do is paddleboard.  Kenzie found a good deal on inflatable paddleboards in Wisconsin at Costco, and we've had them ever since.  We have bought this brand for 3 generations of board now.  There's a new model out, but we don't need more.  We bought a total of five inflatable stand up paddle boards so I can run tours as a side gig.  It works out well when I have a set schedule, but lately my schedule has been fluctuating so much, and Kenzie has had so many extracurricular activities, that I don't get to do many tours anymore.  When we were first getting started on Airbnb, we brought friends along to see what they thought.  We go up a peaceful river, and swing from a rope into the cool fresh water.  When we go as a family (and not for a tour) I will usually have Fjord on my front or back, and Finn on the board.  He's got some pretty good balance now.

I love taking people out to share a bit of the history and the culture of the area.  I'm always surprised by who will choose to do the rope swing, and who will skip it because they're chicken.

Kawela Bay (In Hawai'i, the "W" letter is pronounced with a "V" sound.  Haleiwa is pronounced hall-ay-ee-vah.  Kawela Bay is pronounced Kah-vell-ah), is one of our all time favorite hidden gems on the North Shore.  The sunsets here are the best by far.  Kenzie does a tour here where I take people paddle boarding, then she teaches them how to paint the sunset, and they conclude with a little yoga session.  Since she has been officially certified as a yoga instructor, we try and sprinkle it in wherever we can.

At first I didn't even know this place existed, but when I was in school I did a mini-internship here and they took us on a property tour in golf carts so we could see the 1300 acres Turtle Bay has to offer.  It was amazing, and this spot was particularly pristine.  They filmed some episodes of LOST here, a Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and even the fancy water circle cornucopia scene from Hunger Games 2.  

Turtle Bay has changed a lot since my mini-internship, and now I actually work here.  It was a goal I had when were first starting out on the North Shore.  You tend to get used to the beauty of a place if you visit it enough, but every now and then I walk in to my place of work, and see the sun rising over the infinity pools, and see the palm trees swaying in the wind and I think, 'man, I am one lucky son of a gun!'

Kawela Bay is a go-to spot for seeing turtles.  We never fail to see at least 3 of them popping their heads up as they munch on the seagrass that grows on the coral heads.  The water is fairly murky because of the shallow depth and sandy bottom.  It's not the best for snorkeling, but once when paddleboarding I saw turtles 18 times!  Twice I even saw a big one pull up on the shore next to one of the beach houses.  Ahh how lucky to have those homes.  I guess the bar is always raised as to what would be nice.  (oh to live in Hawaii, oh to live in Hawaii and have a job, oh to live in Hawaii and have a job and a house...etc.)

When we first got here, we had to move out of our apartment for 4 days before moving 100% in.  We decided to go camping with our 2-month old Finn.  It was so fun, and we got to check out two new campsites.  Malaekahana (close to home now on the North Shore), and Aiaia (one of the hardest words to pronounce just by looking at it).  We camped on the ground and put in an air mattress to stay comfy.  The mattress was great but it took up a lot of vertical real estate, and now that we have two boys, we need a bigger tent.  One of my favorite purchases was this tree tent by tentsile.  I've had my eye on these for years, but I always thought they were too expensive.  Kenzie found on on craigslist for cheap and it was very very used, but still functional.  It is so fun to sleep up in the trees and not worry about roots and mud in your back.  I started renting it out on Airbnb, but it was a lot of work to set up, and I had to hike all these people to the free site that I know of in the backcountry.  I would wash the stuff after it got used, and I think I washed the waterproofing off of the rain fly.  We had one pair who put me through the ringer.  They got rained on, and left their stuff and my stuff up in the middle of the night.  I had to go up and clean up their rubbish and then hike down with almost 100 Lb of gear.  It was crazy.  The next couple broke the tent poles, so I decided, NO MORE rentals from me.  I want to fix the poles because I love this tent.  I want to try camping in it over the river some day.  Finn loves it too, it's like a trampoline, slack line, and hammock all in one.

Someday I'll have my own catamaran anchored in a tropical bay. 

We love coming to Waimea Bay in the summer.  The water is flat and clear.  You can usually dive right off the beach.  There is a great big rock for cliff diving, and some great spots to anchor.  I miss sailing so much. I put an ad out on the interwebs to see if someone had a sailboat to share.  Lo and behold I found someone willing to share the boat for half the dock fee.  At the time I was a poor student and I couldn't afford even that, so I offered to do some chores on the boat.  Anyway, we took it out sailing a couple of times.  The first time we went out and the owner zipped by with his family on his other boat to go see the sharks (see video 1).  After we were all back in and tied up to the dock, they asked, "Did you guys see those whales?!"  It was whale season, but we didn't see any, and we assumed they must have seen them way out where they could get to on their much faster speed boat.  "There were about six of them following you guys." They said.  I couldn't believe we missed it!  I can't wait to get out there on my own boat so we can go as far as we want.

The second time we took it out, I brought a buddy along with us.  Kenzie swears that the swells were like mountains and she thought the waves were too big.  My buddy got seasick and threw up.  *Side note* if wondering which side of the boat to puke off of, it's the side where you're not vomiting into the wind...that's the correct side.  

We sailed about an hour from Haleiwa to Waimea Bay.  I dropped anchor, and dropped the sails.  It was then that I started to feel queasy.  I went below to check the bilge since the boat had an annoying habit of leaking like a sieve whenever the engine was running.  I did have to run the engine to get out of the harbor, and then to speed up our progress when we were about 10 minutes out of Waimea.  As such, the sea was sloshing over the floorboards.  That was an uncomfortable feeling.  I prefer the water to be on the outside of the boat.  When I was down below, I got my first bout of seasickness ever.  It was not fun.  I did end up feeling better after throwing up, but in the end I just had to try and take my mind off of it by working.  I hopped in with a scraper and went about cleaning the hull.  Where I anticipated a month or so of slime buildup, I was greeted by 3 inches of coral growing on the keel!  I had never seen anything like it.  This boat hadn't had the bottom scrubbed in so long, it had become a reef.  Scraping and chipping was made more difficult by my seasickness, and by the fact that the boat kept lolling and bobbing on top of me with each swell.  Kenzie had made the suggestion to anchor further in to shore, closer to the cliffs.  Since it wasn't my boat, and I wasn't sure of the depth all around the bay, I didn't want to risk running into the rocks.  Now that I know the area better, I will definitely pull closer in for more protection.  The boat rocked and rolled while I chipped, and the bilge pump worked happily away draining the cabin.

When it was time to pull the anchor and head home, I turned the key in the ignition and *click*.  Dead battery.  The bilge pump had sucked the floor, and the battery completely dry.  Looking back at it, I don't think I isolated the batteries correctly.  Typically you will have an engine battery for starting the motor, and a house battery for running lights and pumps and such.  You rotate a selector switch to make sure you are on the right battery.  Left for the engine, right for the house, and center for both.  I think I left it in the center position.  Either way, I called the owner, Paul, and told him of the predicament.  He said he had a spare battery on his other boat back in Haleiwa.  We were worried for a bit, then I kind of shook myself and thought, 'what the heck am I worried about, this is a sailboat after all.  I put up the main, unfurled the jib, and headed back the way we came.  The going was much easier, not pounding into the waves.  Once we got close to the harbor I furled in the jib to scrub off some speed.  When we were in the harbor I had my buddy, McKay, get on the bow with the anchor ready to drop.  The wind was still blowing pretty good, but I did not want to try and make it into the cramped slip at the back of the marina at full speed.  I spotted an empty dock right where I needed it to be.  I quickly threw the tiller to the side, pulling off a tidy U-turn, and pointed straight into the wind.  Once we had stopped, I gave the order to drop the anchor.  We were held fast for a moment, but we were right in the middle of the channel.  I did not want to block traffic.  We eased out the anchor line, and slowly (using the wind on our nose) backed into the empty dock.  In the end it worked like a charm.  I had to grab the spare battery, and then use jumper cables from my van and about 30 minutes of time to charge it up enough to start the diesel engine, but then I chugged over to the proper slip and put it all away as if nothing had happened.  

Night Snorkeling

 One of my favorite things about being in Hawaii is that I can swim anytime I want, all year round.  The water is definitely saltier than I grew up with on Lake Michigan, but it's a small trade off for the variation of life that you get to see here.  The water is clear, and warm (usually).  The sights are unbelievable.  As soon as we moved here we got snorkel kits, and have used them extensively.  I got SCUBA certified in my second semester of school, but sadly have not gotten a tank on my back since the final certification dive. 

What I love with the ocean is that the life beneath the waves doesn't follow the same rules that it does out here in the air.  Here everything has it's head, mouth, eyes, brain, and all that pretty much in the same spot.  Underwater, the line between plant and animal is blurred so much that I often don't know what I'm looking at.  Tiny creatures make up the largest structures around.  The reefs are plentiful, and house myriad fishes, snails, cucumbers, and other life.  Sadly, with all this beauty, I do see a lot of trash.  We live on the windward side of the island, and the tradewinds blow pretty steadily all year.  With the wind comes the trash.  Mostly it's all beautiful, but I feel saddened when I see a beach covered with broken milk crates, fishing lures, and other rubbish. We are so proud of Finn though.  WHenever he sees ANY trash, he picks it up and announces, "Just saved a sea turtle!".  

I have a buddy who is always out hunting and spearfishing.  He's the consummate outdoorsman.  I have always loved the look of spearfishing.  I used to follow Kimi Swimmy on Insta back in the day when I was hip and on all the social medias.  Anyway, he took me spearfishing once.  It was quite the experience.  You have to go beyond the reef to get to the big fish.  Now, between the reef and the beach, it's pretty calm because the energy of the waves is dissipated on the coral before it hits shore.  Beyond the reef it is also pretty calm because the waves are just swells of energy with nothing to stop them, so you just bob around a bit.  It's that tricky part right ON the reef that things get dicey.  All the swells trying to get to shore pile up on top of the reef and make the large, surfable, waves you see on TV.  They're great if you want to surf on top of the water, but if you are trying to make your way under the water, it's a bit more difficult.  

I marveled at my friend's ability to stay down on the bottom waiting for a fish.  Spearfishing is the most sustainable form of fishing.  I feel like you are hunting the fish on their own territory.  You get to select just the right fish, and there's not accidental bycatch.  Fishing with a single line is not as, but you might hurt the wrong animal you're not going for, and I can't tell you how many lead weights and stray fishing lines I have found in the ocean.  Commercial fishing nets destroy whole fishing zones and all the habitats around.  Anyway, even though it looks amazing, and is the most eco-friendly way to fish, it was still too sad for me to be down there, seeing these beautiful, colorful, graceful fish, and then shooting one.  After getting a fish, he handed it to me while he got it strung up to his float.  I'm pretty sure it stared at me as it died.  

After a while of swimming around, we started to head back in.  Surprise surprise, the fish was no longer there.  To which my friend said, "I thought I felt something tugging on the line.  A shark must have eaten it."  I will definitely think twice before accepting a freshly killed fish while I am still in the water, and I will probably not go spearfishing again.

This same buddy also leads night snorkeling tours.  He goes to a popular snorkel spot that I've been to many times.  It feel like swimming in an aquarium because of all the colorful reef fish, and the clear water.  At night time it's a whole different ballgame.  All of the slower moving -and in many ways, more exotic- animals hide during the day, and come out to do their business at night. 

Giant cowrie shells clung to the underside of jagged rocks.  Holes of varying size and sharpness opened up to a hidden underworld.  Crustaceans of all sorts crawled out to feed.  They are some of the most easily spotted nocturnal animals since their eyes glow like bright LEDs when hit by a flashlight.

Creatures I took to be mainly stationary actually crawled around during the late-night hours.  There were several types of urchins.  Black spine urchins (hurt to step on, happened twice), Hawaiian banded urchins (poisonous, avoid), and boring urchins (so-named for their ability to bore into solid rock, and not so much for their lack of witty conversation) were all out in abundance.  

Sea stars were oddly rare on the nights I have been out night snorkeling.  I went a few times with my buddy, but then he had his appendix out and needed some help to carry things while he recovered.  This was a great way to have fun and make a few bucks.  I suppose I did well enough that he let me take over the tours while he was on vacation.  I am not as good of a photographer, but it was still great to share this underwater world with others, and feel more a part of it myself.

Who would have thought that snails and slugs were some of the most beautiful and mysterious creatures of the night?

There are two types of octopus that I have been able to interact with on these night tours.  They are so intelligent and aware that I have completely sworn off of calamari.  It was never one of my favorite dishes, but I still felt like I had to try some when I went to Chinese buffets.  The only way to stop animals from being hunted, is to stop ordering them on the menu.  I don't know why I don't feel this way about all animals yet, but perhaps someday I'll either get over it, or become vegetarian. 

Anyway, they have complete control over each individual sucker on each of their eight limbs.  This poor guy is down to six tentacles and two stubs.  I hope that it is due to fights with other sea creatures, and not due to mishandling by humans.  Perhaps someday I will be ok with just looking and not touching.  With the octopus, I always try to respect them.  I reach out to see if they want to be held, or to play, but they are very descriptive with their body language.  If he changes color, tries to squirt away, or just reached out and slaps my hand away, then I back off and give him his space.  Their bodies and tentacles feel like a mix between Jello and Velcro.

That there ladies and gents is a cone snail with his harpoon out

"All cone snails are venomous and capable of "stinging" humans; if live ones are handled their venomous sting will occur without warning and can be fatal. The species most dangerous to humans are the larger cones, which prey on small bottom-dwelling fish; the smaller species mostly hunt and eat marine worms. Cone snails use a hypodermic needle-like modified radula tooth and a venom gland to attack and paralyze their prey before engulfing it. The tooth, which is sometimes likened to a dart or a harpoon, is barbed and can be extended some distance out from the head of the snail, at the end of the proboscis.

Cone snail venoms are mainly peptides. The venoms contain many different toxins that vary in their effects; some are extremely toxic. The sting of small cones is no worse than a bee sting, but the sting of a few of the larger species of tropical cone snails can be serious, occasionally even fatal to humans. Cone snail venom is showing great promise as a source of new, medically important substances"  -Wikipedia

Who can tell me what this is?

The patterns and shapes that life under the sea takes is really awe-inspiring

I wish I had picture of all that I saw.  These are just a few of the species I noticed while out at night.  For some reason, it just felt more adventurous.  The water may have been clear, but it was still eerie to only have a field of vision as far and wide as my small flashlight could penetrate.  Sometimes surprises loomed around the next rock.  We once came upon a 6-foot long brown moray eel!  It's not their fault they look so mean, they are just breathing; but still, I wouldn't want one to lunge and make off with my finger.

These are Toby fish.  They are so cute, and they puff up and squeak if you try to hold them.  They are part of the boxfish/puffer fish family, but they have no spines.

Here is our friend from earlier.  The jeweled anemone hermit crab.  Apparently hermit crabs really do like to stack things on their shells to be all Shiny!  In this case, they put anemones on their backs.  The anemones get a free ride to better food, and the hermit crab gets protection in the form of stinging anemones in case someone tries to eat them.  

Well there you have it, a tiny glimpse into the underwater world of Hawaii.  I hope to keep sharing these adventures with you as time goes by.  I have a lot of catching up to do!

Aloha!

 How could I possibly catch up on all that has happened in the past few years?  I suppose I should start a whole new blog about my family and our adventures.  Since last writing, we have had another baby boy, I have graduated from BYU-Hawaii, and we are still living on the North Shore of Oahu.

This is one of those places that I heard about but never really wanted to go to because it was so cliche, and far too expensive for me.  Once I started looking at pictures though, I found that I really did want to visit.  I never believed that I would one day live here.  I suppose good things happen if you just take a leap and make it work.  

I won't lie, it is very expensive to live here.  A small two bedroom apartment will easily run north of $2,000 a month, gas is $5.00/gallon, and we can rarely leave the grocery store for under $100.

In exchange for all of the green leaving my wallet, we get to experience lush green forests all year round, pristine turquoise waters, beautiful hiking trails, world class surfing, whale watching, and so much more.  Having been to Costa Rica, I would say that that has a much more natural vibe to it, and you don't have to deal with as much crowding and pollution as you do on Oahu, but it's still amazing.  

I'll try to sum up some of the highlights over the past years we have lived here.  Let's see, last time, Kenzie broke her arm on Christmas, and Finn was a little baby.  Finn is now 2 years and 9 months old, and his baby brother, Fjord, is almost 9 months old.  Finn started life as a baldy, weighing in at 10 lb. 2oz.  BIG BABY.  Fjord had a full head of black, black hair, and was 9 lbs. even.  We thought they'd be Thor and Loki, but Fjord's hair has since fallen out and is growing back in blonde.

What a stud!

We have been blessed to explore quite a lot of what this island has to offer.  We have done a lot of the hikes that you can take kids on.  We want them to be with us because it's hard to find a babysitter, and we want our kids to be adventurous.  As Finn is getting more independent, we wonder if maybe we didn't raise him a little too gung ho.  The other day we took our inflatable SUP paddle boards out to this island called 'Chinaman's hat'.  (I have a small airbnb experience business where I take people paddle boarding up a serene river a few times a week to make ends meet)

Sleepy Beeb

  The kids love the boards.  Finn can easily sleep on them, and now loves to jump off.  Fjord will usually be in a front back or back pack, but he loves to have his little feet drag in the water; or, barring that, grab the paddle out of my hands so he can do it.  Anyway, we paddled out to this island, pulled the boards up on the rocky beach.  There was a huge sea turtle that had puled up on shore.  The poor thing is so covered in sores and tumors, I almost can't stand to look at her.  We began our ascent of this steep and dusty trail.  I elected to leave Finn in his lifejacket because it comes with a convenient grab handle.  I never let it out of my grip.  It was a long way down. 

We got to the crux of the climb where we needed to go up some ropes.  He bawled because I wouldn't let him do it all on his own.  Normally I'd say "go for it", but the risk of death was a tad too high for my tolerance level.  The view from the top was amazing.  Other hikers had drones out flying.  One the one hand, I agree with my bride that they are very loud and annoying, on the other hand, I really wish I could find that footage, because I bet it is amazing. 

#allnaturalorganic

I married some good looking genes

Well, that's enough for one day.  I'll add more detail later, and do a post about each location we like.

Fjord is on my back

We're in Hawaii!

I believe the last time I posted on my blog was years ago, so once again, there is too much to catch up on.  I got married to my wonderful wife, McKenzie in 2017.

  We have had so many amazing adventures, I hope I have tom to go back and cover them all.  The best adventure thus far has been the birth of our amazing son, Finnegan, in 2019.  He's already over a year old!  He is walking and babbling and making us smile every moment we get to spend with him. 

Our world has been turned upside down, but it's nice to have what was always missing in my life.  In other news: I quit my job as a car salesman, it had been a good 8-9 years of my life, but I wanted more time with my new family.  I had been doing a bit of online schooling, but we realized that I would never graduate unless I just went in person, kicked it in gear, and stopped wasting time.  So I applied to BYU-Idaho, BYU-Provo, and BYU-Hawaii.  I was already going to Idaho online, so getting in there was pretty much a given.  I was not so lucky with Provo, and so I assumed Hawaii would be out.  We started shopping for apartments in Idaho while we waited for an answer from Hawaii.  And wait we did, weeks after we were supposed to get an answer I finally called them to find out what was going on.  Apparently, they were just reviewing my case when I called.  See, typically the cutoff for attending there is 29 years-old, and I was 31.  Luckily (divine intervention again in my life) I was able to talk to them and after a brief interview, I was told I would have an answer within 3 days.  The morning came, and I opened my email.  Accepted!  Hawaii here we come.  

It has been amazing!  We loaded all that we thought we might need into four sturdy Rubbermaid totes and moved to the islands.  We now live on campus at BYU-Hawaii and we couldn't be happier.  We feel so blessed to be here.  

I remember when we first moved in how much I loved snorkeling.  It is like a different world.  You may think you see a lot through the crystal clear waters, but as soon as you put on a mask and stick your face in the water you really see how much life you are swimming with.  The feeling of awe hasn't really worn off either.  I love to be in the water whenever I can.

I got scuba certified in my first semester but sadly haven't gone diving since getting my PADI card.  I hope to go soon.  McKenzie has been certified for years, but due to an eye injury, she had to wait before getting new contacts that will enable her to use a dive mask.

We have both tried to take up surfing.  I was frustrated at first because I would go and be horrible at it.  My chest would ache, and my skin would be rubbed raw.  Due to this lack of success, I only went once every six weeks or so.  Finally, Kenzie encouraged me to step up my game.  I now go three times a week before work, and it is paying off.  I no longer get sore from surfing, and I can pretty reliable stand up and catch three waves per half-hour session. 

Finn loves the sand, he makes friends everywhere we go, and total strangers keep walking up to us on the street to tell us how cute he is or to get a picture with him.  You'd think that seeing turtles, whales, dolphins, and pristine beaches would be the highlight of my life, but in reality, it is being able to raise such a fun wonderful son with my wife.

Yes, we see Sea Turtles quite regularly; it's so fun to be paddle boarding above them through a transparent bay.  We have seen humpback whales a few times now.  First, we hiked up a lighthouse trail with such a great view that we could actually see three of the other Hawaiian islands.  We saw small pods of two or three whales swimming along through the channel.  It was hard to get a good view without binoculars, but it was still cool to see. 

Next, we went on a whale watching tour aboard a 50-foot catamaran.  Sadly they never put the sails up, but I may be getting converted to the multihull way of life.  

Then when we were enjoying a stroll by our favorite bay we saw a few whales jumping not too far offshore.  They flipped and splashed, and waves their flukes in the air.  We tried to follow them by car and on foot.  By the end of our excursion, we had counted 41 breaches where the whales jumped and splashed.  That was a magical day. 

A Week in Escalante on My Own

Again it has been a long time since I have posted anything on my blog.  A lot has happened, and I have had quite a few adventures which I feel should have been put up here.  But alas, I am lazy.

After spending a summer in Texas selling alarms door to door, I had a month off to basically be a bum.  I was running low on funds, but I had all the time in the world.  I spent more than a couple nights camping.  Part of my camping was because I missed the fresh air and the wilderness of Utah.  Part of my camping was because I had nowhere else to go.  I did end up crashing on a friend's couch for a week or so while I was waiting to go on the company cruise that we had won.  More on that later.
I love my Subaru.  It is the perfect car for me.  My Subaru has allowed me to travel cross country so many times.  It has never let me down, and it has proven to be quite a comfortable porta-bedroom.  With the seats folded down, and an air mattress rolled out, I can sleep quite comfortably.  On most road trips I push my body too far and stay awake on the road as long as possible.  I can't afford hotel room every time I get drowsy.  Whenever I would finally pull over to sleep, I used to have to recline the seat as far as possible and scrape together 45 minutes of shut eye before hitting the road again.  In my Subaru Outback though, I can easily sleep 6-7 hours and get back going as if I had planned to spend the night in such a fashion.  It's not quite an RV, but for the amount of "softroading" I do, and the gas mileage I need to travel as far as I do, it is perfection.


After spending a few days camping out at my favorite spot in the mountains near Tooele, I decided to saddle up and head off on adventure.  I would liked to have had some friends along, but I didn't want to go through the hassle of making sure I had the right mixture of personalities, and everyone coming along had the right gear.  I've been gradually hording outdoorsy gear for a few years, and knew I could pick up and go wherever whenever because after all, all of my worldly possessions were in the back of my car.
I had been backpacking with a wilderness group a couple years ago.  They take maladjusted youth out into the wild to allow the healing effects of nature to take place.  Being out away from technology, having time to think, having a goal in mind, and a simplified almost primitive form of living can work wonders on the soul.
After spending 8 days backpacking in Southern Utah I learned that the job was not for me, but the location was too breathtaking not to revisit.  My plan was to take 5-8 days and go solo backpacking in Escalante, Utah.  I hoped that my memory of the location would not get me lost.  The multiple slot canyons and vastness of the terrain still leave me in awe to this day.

Pictured above is the gear I packed for my trek.

 50 Liter Internal frame backpack (probably should have used my 65)

10 degree sleeping bag

Hard Shell from my Columbia 3-in-1 coat

Handheld GPS (invaluable for the lazy orienteer)

Inflatable camp mat 

cook kit

(2) 1 liter nalgene bottles

(1) 3 liter water bladder (in the backpack)

3 dry bags of various sizes to contain food, clothing, and electronics

30' of webbing

hammock

4 caribiners

(1) 10x12 Tarp

(2) trekking poles

(1) knock off GoPro

my Nikon DSLR and 2 lenses

Wool hat my mom knitted for me

Goretex waterproof mid ankle hiking boots

stove with fuel

Bear Grylls Gerber pocket knife

I also had some toiletries in the backpack, tent stakes, some basic first aid equipment, and a hundred feet of cordage.

I'm sure I forgot some items, but all in all, it was quite heavy when loaded up.  Some of the stuff I used just so that I wouldn't have felt dumb for bringing it along.  I wasn't going up Everest or anything, but any hike of respectable length makes to wonder how many items you could do without.  On my particular trip, I learned that I could have done without the freeze dried food variety that I brought.

I loaded up my gear; checked and double checked that I had all with me that I would need.  I made sure that my memory cards had plenty of room left on them, and my camera batteries were full.  I left mid afternoon for the 5 hour drive south from Provo, UT.

I think I told enough people where I was going that they would be able to send a search party if I didn't reappear within a week.  It was fun to be off on an excursion, but a little bit daunting to be doing it alone.  I knew that I wasn't as familiar with the area as I should have been, and that there was no way of getting any cell reception once I entered the canyons.  

After navigating my way to the Town of Escalante, I learned that I would actually have to backtrack about 5 miles to find a service highway, and then drive about 30 miles down that to reach the trail head I was aiming for.  Bombing down the dark dusty trail at nightfall was amazing.  I blasted my music and rolled down the window.  The cool October air keeping me awake.  It had been raining for the past few days which made the road very muddy, and 2 or 3 times I came across a puddle that was over 100 feet long, and splashing up against my bumper.  I am admittedly over-confident in the Subaru All-Wheel drive system, and perhaps I should not be so foolhardy when I'm miles from any help, and going into the back country at a time of year that almost guarantees I won't see another soul, but oh well.  I made it through every mini-lake just fine, and kept on driving.  It was only after the road got especially gnarly that I realized that I had gone past the trail head.  The road was not marked, and there was nothing to make it look like an official spot to start a hike, so I had blown right past it.  

As I was driving about 45 MPH down this dark road, I felt a little uneasy every time I saw a patch of dirt that showed where a river had crossed only hours before.  The dry desert floor mixed with recent rainfall is the perfect recipe for quicksand.  I knew that if I happened to get buried up to my axles, that there would be no way out until a bigger truck came along.  Stuck in such a predicament would make me all that much more vulnerable to a flash flood.  They come without warning, and can still wash your car away down a torrent of muddy water though the rain fell miles away.  So, driving too fast as I was, I rounded a bend, and suddenly came upon a spot of the road that had been washed out.  Not just that I couldn't see where the road was meant to go, but a culvert had collapsed, and 3/4 of the roadway suddenly dropped 6' down off to my right.  I was able to skid to a halt just before my tires went into the ravine, but it was way too close for comfort.  I surveyed my options and decided to cut up into the brush to the left of the chasm.  My tires spun a little bit, protesting as I pushed the wagon up into dryer pastures.  I was only a couple hundred feet beyond the obstacle when I realized I had gone too far.  Creeping back past the gaping, car-swallowing, sink hole was more daunting on the return trip.

In a few moments I had driven myself back to the proper fork in the road and parked.  I was still not very sure I was at the right trail head.  I didn't want to get my car ticketed while I was away.  I had dreams of crawling my way out of the wilderness, beaten and bruised, only to find that my car had been towed away and I would be left stranded. 

I decided that rather than start out my trek in the dead of night, I would sleep and pick my trail at first light; a good thing too, because it wasn't long after I unrolled my sleeping bag that great drops of water came down pelting the roof of my car.  It was so loud that I occasionally got up to check that it wasn't hail hitting the sheet metal.  I slept uneasily, again dreaming of my car getting washed away in a flash flood.  (I later found out that 20 people had died in similar conditions only a month prior) Click here for story.

First light ended up being about noon by the time I finally woke up, ate the remaining hot dog in my snack stash, and clicked lock on my car.  I left a note on the dash with a phone number and an expected return date.  Hopefully no one would loot my car while I was away.  Finding a trail proved to be more difficult.  I zigged and zagged across the scrubby desert terrain looking for any semblance of a path.  My backpack felt heavy, my legs were not yet used to balancing the extra 40-50 pounds on my frame.  I was grateful to have my trekking poles along.  They helped me scramble up smooth rocky surfaces, and helped me stay at a decent marching pace as I crossed the dusty landscape  Those poles probably saved my life more than a few times on this trip.  At length I came across an old barbed wire fence that served to keep livestock from tumbling into the slot canyons and dying.  I figured that I should be on the opposite side of this fence since my goal was to get into the canyons.  After following the fence, I finally started to notice a crack open up in the earth.  As I hiked, the crack became a trench, then a ravine.  I lowered my backpack gently down over the edge of a cliff, using the webbing to get it as low as possible.  After I carefully released my grip, however, the backpack still took a tumble and scooped up some unwanted soil onto my camera.  I hopped down after my pack, dusted it off, and continued trekking.  

Not long after dropping into the canyon, things began to be familiar.  The landscape had changed a little bit due to the weather, and the passage of time.  The path wasn't as worn as the last time I had hiked Coyote Gulch (the name of the trail).  

That little squiggly line to the left of the blue dot is Coyote Gulch.  With all the twists and turns it ends up being about 12-14 miles from the trail head.

It is hard to capture in a photo, or describe in writing how truly amazing the canyons in southern Utah are.  It' almost a spiritual experience to be back in the country, away from other people.  Just your wits and your preparation.  In hindsight, I do wish I had someone to share the adventure with, but there's always next time.

On the first day I found out how scary it can be to sink into quicksand.  Early on in the trip I was trying to keep my boots dry, and my pants clean.  I wanted to be comfortable and not deal with damp, gravelly socks.  The effort only lasted the first day because after a while you realize that you are constantly crossing over the river, and treading on shifting sand.  One time the river bed seemed just as solid as any other spot; but upon trying to check for quicksand, I suddenly sank up to my knees.  I was in a hurry to get out of it, but the whole ground gave way beneath me like I had gone from standing on gravel to standing on jello pudding.  It was a very real possibility that I could get sunk, and stuck, well out of ear shot of any other human being.  It would be one way to die, but as for me, I'm glad I'm still here. 

The first night I slept in my hammock, high and dry.  I stretched the tarp over my minuscule campsite to protect against the rain.  I stopped all the time to take pictures, and am only now realizing that I haven't posted that many of them.  Hammock camping in October...is cold.  Be warned.  I did not sleep at all the first night because the blood kept draining from my arms and legs and the wind swept away and heat from beneath me.  If the ground hadn't been littered in thorns and mule deer bones, I would have slept on the ground.  

My dinner was made by scooping up some river water, boiling it to kill any bugs, and to get it up to cooking temperature, and then dumping my freeze-dried mix into the pot.  It was sandy, and not good...at all.  I like the idea of freeze dried food.  For the most part it tastes good, and is nutritious.  The benefit is that it doesn't take up much space, and is fairly light.  The negative is that it kinda makes you fart a lot, and may or may not turn your poop odd colors....is what I read... in a book... not first hand knowledge by any means.  REI was having a sale on this type of food.  It was only after I had opened the box and loaded all 18 meals into my pack that I realized that it was all 100% Vegan.  That's great for you Vegans out there, but it did not do well for my required calorie or protein intake.  One meal was a measly 180 calories, and they tasted nasty.  

So if anyone wants 12 packets of "beefish stew", let me know.  I would have been much better served by carrying extra clif bars.  That, and oatmeal was my main diet.

By the second day I was getting into the swing of things.  I recognized all the places I had passed by before.  Constantly amazed by the scale and magnitude of what I was seeing. 

Only ended up using the coat and the hammock once.

If you have never experienced Zion national Park, or Moab, or Escalante, or Arches...you need to reevaluate what you're doing with your life.

The contrast between the massive red cliffs, and the lush greenery along the river was stark.  Around the winding bends of the sandstone canyon I saw arches carved away by years of wind and water.

I met my first people on my second day in.  This gave me a boost of morale.  Since I passed them as the were coming out, I knew that I could follow their footprints to see where solid ground was.  Much of my first day was spent checking and rechecking that I wouldn't sink into quicksand.  I traveled much faster as I got to know the pattern of that one guys crocs better.  For the temperature, I was glad I wore boots, but for the moisture comfort level, I would recommend chacos, or similar outdoorsy sandals.

I walked far too late past dinner time before pitching camp.  Before I knew it I was scrambling through the reeds trying not to fall into the river and desperately straining against the light of my headlamp to see the faintest trace of the footprints which had led me so well before.  After an hour of so of struggling against the falling temperature and the failing light, I finally found a flat, dry spot near the trail and began the slow process of setting up camp.  This time I used my tarp ad an impromptu tent, and cooked my dinner on a flat rock.  Fires weren't allowed at this part of the trail, so I had to curl up in my cold sleeping bag with no other form of heat besides my damp, tired body.

The morning revealed that I was only 30 feet or so from one of the more technically difficult descents.  I'm so glad I didn't try it at nighttime.  My water supply was continuously being refilled from the river.  Although my iodine tablets would kill any germs in the water, they did nothing for the red sand that gritted my teeth long after I was done drinking.

The third day found me passing by more waterfalls and hikers.  The temperatures seemed to be up in the 70's and there were enough groups that I no longer felt alone.  I no longer felt that I was on this crazy backpacking trip that could kill me, but rather on an extended campout that anyone could do.

One of the difficulties I ran into on the trail was that there was no trail; or rather, there were multiple options, and each one would eventually get me down the canyon.  Usually there was a high road and a low road.  Sometimes one would lead me into quicksand, and the other would lead me through thick vegetation.  I don't even want to think about how many spiders hitchhiked in my hair during these passages. 

After taking three days to reach the confluence with the Escalante river, I took a couple pictures.  Paused to breathe, and then did an about face and headed back towards civilization.

On the trip down I averaged 3-4 miles per day.  I t doesn't sound like much, but with the slow going of the river crossings, and the frequent photo stops, it was still busy days.  Since I made it part of the way back on the third day, I decided to take a rest, and set up camp early.  By about 3:30 I was set up.  I had a massive ledge over me for protection, soft sand beneath my feet for comfort, and the one outhouse in the canyon on the opposite side of the river...for convenience.  

This was the one spot that I actually lit a fire.  It is amazing the psychological effect of a small fire in the wilderness.  Something primitive is awakened, letting you know that this is home, and this is safe.  

Free from the burden of my pack, and a pressing schedule, I decided to go for a jaunt with nothing but my camera.  Since my boots were drying out, and I had no inclination to put my socks back on, I took off across the river barefoot.  

My feet were not as tough as they used to be, but after some time I grew accustomed to avoiding cactus.  I realized that this place was pure.  There was no garbage, not broken glass to be worried about.  A pristine landscape that had been successfully preserved, and posed not threat to me talking my little barefoot walkabout.  

The red rocks had absorbed amazing amounts of heat from the day's sunshine.  The darker rocks were too hot to touch.

 After gorging myself on overly sweetened oatmeal, I turned in, and watched the sky fade from perfect clear blue, to deep purple.  The moon rose early, and I could see the faint shapes of bats flying around catching their evening meal.

The next days were exhausting.  Since I had already seen most of the sights on the way down the river, I really didn't have much need to haul out my camera heading back upstream.  I powered through 5 miles on the 4th day without much to make note of.  The final day is when I turned on my GPS and started keeping track of the distance between myself and my car.  I realized that at the pace I was going, I could make it back in one push...if I made it 9 miles that day.  With my backpack no lighter, but my body feeling a little more rejuvenated, I decided to go for it.

After many sweaty hours of long strides, and sore hips, I finally emerged from the canyon.  The only problem was that I was still 2 miles from the car, and I had not emerged at the same spot I had dropped in at.  The rocks were red instead of the sandy yellow they had been before.  I followed a dried up tributary, hoping it would zig-zag me back to my car, but it only took me further away.  At least I had a footprint of another person every now and then to guide me; to let me know that I was going the right way....to his car....if he knew where he was going.

After a while, I decided to leave the relative security of the small ravine, and set out overland.  Across the flat desert.  Following the line my GPS said would lead me to my car.  As the crow flies is so much easier, if you're a crow.  I began to feel fatigued, my snack food supply was depleted, and my water was getting low.  I was in no real danger of dehydration...as long as I got to my car that night.  The sun started dropping behind the distant mountains, and I continued to drag my way through the soft sand.  

Every little hill was covered with small holes.  I now assume they were for jack rabbits, but at the time my mind was certain that each one of these thousands of dens was that of a rattlesnake.  I may come across as somewhat of a worry-wart in this entry, and that may be, but I assure you that something changes in your mind when you find yourself alone, in the literal middle of nowhere, with no way of letting anyone know where you are.  It took about 2 and a half hours to finally see areas I recognized.  It felt like eternity.  By the time I saw the barbed wire fence, I was just done.  I loved the hike, I probably shouldn't have pushed myself as far as I did on the last day, but after all that I had seen and done, I was ready to just sit down, and have my car do the work.

This was one of the most beautiful sights I saw that week.

The drive back in to town took so much longer than I thought it would, but once their, I realized that I didn't have it in me to drive all the way back to Provo.  I stopped at an amazing burger joint, ordered their biggest meal, and devoured every ounce of that grease laden bacon burger in no time flat.  I had deluded myself into thinking that a week without soda would make it that much easier to stay on a healthy beverage trend once I rejoined society.  The fist thing I ordered: Extra Large Mountain Dew.

I checked into a modest motel across from the burger shop.  The parking lot was packed full of muddy Tacomas, Subarus, and Frontiers.  Some were there to hike, others to bike, and some were just passing through.  The room was equipped with cloths specifically for washing off mud, which was invaluable.  I clogged the shower washing mud out of my hair, cleaned it out, and then showered some more.  My shirt smelled like 5 days of sweat and mud.  I found it necessary to do some laundry in the sink with the bar of soap provided before turning in for the night.  It is amazing how nice a cheap motel bed feels after sleeping a week on the ground atop a constantly deflating camp mat.