JUST AROUND THE BUOY

WK Buoy 

Off the coast of Kauai

(This and all subsequent photos in this post, with the exception of a couple of images, 
are presented by courtesy of Silas Kaumakahia Aqui.)

The best fishing hole in Hawaii?

Arguably, it may very well be just past the WK Buoy off the southeast coast of Kauai.  

At least, the testimonies of my brothers, Charlie and Glenn, and Glenn's son, Jared, and the pictures that follow seem to bear this out.

I mean, 5 koshibi (baby ahi, or yellow fin tuna) and 15 aku (bonito) are pretty solid evidence for bolstering my case.

My brothers did most of the fishing while Captain Jared adeptly piloted the boat through the deep liquid turquoise.  Getting up very early to make this trip, they were able to spend twelve fruitful hours in the hot Hawaiian sun.  

Weather and tide patterns held up well, and by day's end, these tired,  hungry and well spent Hawaiian mariners were ready to pack it in and head on back to terra firma.

If the following photos are any indication, it would appear that deep sea fishing isn't about heavy labor but, rather, recreation for the body, mind, and soul.  A time for ohana, or family; a time for talkin' story--making good conversation; and truly a time for healing, for connecting with nature, for introspection, and for deep gratitude for a God who provides.

Braddah Glenn with a freshly caught aku.

 Fish On!  for Braddah Charlie.

Braddah Glenn congratulates Braddah Charlie  on landing this good-looking aku. 

 A friend's boat partially disappears behind a large wave.

 Captain Jared steering the boat.

 In deep slumber, the Sleeping Giant rests with Mt. Waialeale, the wettest spot in the world, providing a picturesque backdrop.

 Glenn helping his son, Jared, with another exciting catch of the day.

 Jared chops an aku into small pieces that will be used as chum for drawing koshibi (young ahi, or yellow fin tuna) closer to the boat.  Larger pieces of aku will serve as bait.

 Hey, wake up, Sleeping Giant!  You're missing all the action!

 Glenn might be the head guy on this boat, but he's wise to check in with the real boss of 
fishing operations, wife Linda.

 A great looking koshibi!

Glenn's t-shirt slogan says it all:  BETTER LUCKY THAN GOOD!

 The three fishing poles are secured at the stern of the boat.  Check out the size of the fishing reel!

Glenn proudly displaying two of the five koshibi that were caught.
(Photo courtesy of Linda A.)

The majority of the day's catch.  (Charlie took a few home.)
(Photo courtesy of Linda A.)

Nothing is wasted.  While squid-like lures were used for the most part, some of the aku was cut up and used as chum and bait to catch koshibi.  Some of the fish will be sold to pay for fuel for the boat and for business revenue.  The rest of the bounty will be eaten raw, dried, fried, and/or put into the freezer for future use.

The very next morning, Charlie sets out strips of aku to dry in the hot Hawaiian sun.

When afternoon shadows are finally swallowed whole by the impending darkness; when the old yet sturdy and faithful boat has been parked, ever so carefully, in the back yard (watch out for the dogs and cats and chickens, now!); when the fish and tackle are cleaned and put away; and when freshly showered, weary, aching bodies finally merge into the comfort of familiar beds, the dreams will come.

Dreams borne on the tradewinds that rouse the ghosts of ancient times.  Dreams of the fish that were caught today--only now with voices speaking in the ancient Polynesian dialects, their music swelling with the percussion chorus of the vibrant sea.  Dreams of a more peaceful era, an age of antiquity when everything blended harmoniously and sensibly, when men treated each other and all other living creatures with dignity and respect.

Where brothers and sisters could man a huge outrigger canoe and ride the surf--yea, even ride past the surf--and find the sweet spot where hooks of bone baited with the flesh that Mano, the shark, had sacrificed for the sake of the island village, could be lowered into the water to make their alluring siren call to the great fishes of the deep...

Hele mai, Ono!

Hele mai, Mahimahi!

Hele mai, Ahi!

Hele mai, Aku!

Hele mai, you denizens of the eternal deep blue!

Ua mau ke ea o ka aina i ka pono!

Hele mai...

ONCE UPON A TIME, SPAM MEANT SOMETHING ELSE

Spam, Brown Rice, and Scrambled Eggs
(Hawaiian Odysseus photo)

I constantly straddle the Pacific.

What I mean by this is that I seem, as of late, to have one foot in the islands and the other foot in Seattle.

I can't help it.  It's in the nature of Hawaiian Odysseus to be double-minded. The journey home, as I alluded to in a previous post (see http://hawaiianodysseus.blogspot.com/2011/04/road-home.html), has three destinations.  

First, there is a return to the home of origin.  Only in understanding and building a resolution of past conflicts can we be free to journey forward...

To the nuclear home...to one's palace and queen...to the residual and maturing adventures of the heart...to a gentle settling and acceptance of the precious time one has left...to find the peace of completing the final leg of the trip home...

To self.  

Man's grasp of God can only be meaningful if he can truly come to appreciate why the Creator made him.

Home to self isn't about being self-centered.  It's about tremendous appreciation for creation as an integral step towards appreciation for the divine.

And this is why I wanted to write a post about SPAM today.

The mention of Spam in current circles would suggest to most people that you were referring to the unwanted advertisements that stubbornly appear in one's inbox...you know, the junk mail of computerdom.  

But Spam originally was developed in World War II as a convenient and economical way of supplying protein to GI's.  It was and continues to be very popular among residents of Hawaii, Guam, the Philippines and other Pacific Rim populations.

Wikipedia does an excellent and comprehensive job of documenting the history and usefulness of Spam, so I will share its link with you in this post.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spam_(food)

I'm returning to my nuclear home very soon...perhaps eight weeks from now.  

And when I do, I will be just as double-minded and just as busy straddling the Pacific there as I am here in Seattle.

I will be just as much Spam there as I am here.  Just as much something for those eating steaks to look down upon and make fun of and underestimate to kingdom come.

But I will be, true to my Spammy nature, useful and resourceful and appreciated for the humble and insignificant contributions I make--just like my Hormel predecessor.  And over time, just as God had intended all along, I will have made a difference for the better.

Why?  Because God never considers His creations as less than perfect.

Not even Spam.

                                        

BEHIND THE SCENES

Dylan and Joe--Just Two Wild and Kolohe Guys!
(Photo courtesy of Kathleen W.)

Three days ago, I had the pleasure of having family visitors from Kauai.  Needless to say, their sweet aloha and warm personalities were a wonderful contrast to the seemingly bipolar weather that has recently beset the Emerald City.  I think the sun is starting to win the Who's Going to Dominate the Sky Today? competition, however, and I'm convinced that my loved ones tipped the scales by bringing some of the Hawaii weather up here...at least for a little bit.

Featured above with yours truly is the charismatic, vibrant, and adventuresome Dylan Imaikalani Watanabe, my five-year-old grand-nephew.  For your information, Dylan is highlighted in several of my humorous posts   on the close cousin blog to Hawaiian Odysseus, aptly named Hawaiian Odysseus 2.

Just in case, let me provide you with a link to HO2:

http://hawaiianodysseus2.blogspot.com/

In fact, if you get a chance to view HO2 sometime soon, you will see a recent post on there (which I'm working on in my head just yet) that uses the same image as that above.

Okay, now that we've taken care of that detail, we can proceed.

Dylan is a very special child and is a permanent guest in my heart.  When I first met him a couple of years ago, he instantly won my affection.  The best way I can describe the close bond I feel with him is that he reminds me of the little boy that was me, fifty-plus years ago.  On some level that I don't quite yet understand, when I think of or interact with him, I am attending to that little boy growing up on Kauai in the 1950's when Hawaii was still a territory. 

And so we come to the gist of these two blogs that I pen--Hawaiian Odysseus and Hawaiian Odysseus 2.  The first is a more serious look at life and Everyman's journey to find himself.  For me, personally, it is a challenging trek, and I embrace each fork or curious bend in the road, each passage of imposing body of water, and each Cyclops, siren, Scylla and Charybdis, Calypso the nymph, Circe, and angry Poseidon passionately and voraciously.  Why?  Because to experience the process of working through and maybe even overcoming these obstacles and adversaries means that I am getting closer to going home...to my queen, to my castle, and--most importantly--to my true sense of self.

It may be Everyman's journey, to be sure, but this blog seeks to chronicle my unique homeward trek to metaphorical Ithaca. 

The Greek playwrights and their successors knew and  understood the value of balancing life's scales.  If there is tragedy, then there must also be comic relief.  Real survival relies on this yin-yang balance.

This is where Hawaiian Odysseus 2 comes in.  It is light humor--sometimes obvious, sometimes cryptic, sometimes sophisticated, sometimes elementary school playground.  But foremost and always, it is a wonderful complement to Hawaiian Odysseus.

And it is my earnest prayer that my faithful followers and casual readers will review both blogs.  Undoubtedly, you will prefer one over the other, but just as the need exists for this writer to invest in both in order to maintain mental, emotional, and spiritual stability, you--the reader--will welcome a similar respite at times.

So, back to Dylan...he will pop up as the featured attraction now and then in the HO2 posts.  And when he does, I hope you smile and/or laugh your heart off.  

Thank you for your gracious attentiveness.

Aloha and mahalo!  See you around the next bend...

                                                      

 

THE RAIN WAS HERE LONG BEFORE ANY OF US WERE AROUND TO COMPLAIN ABOUT IT.

Majestic 'Opaeka'a Falls
(Photo courtesy of Silas K. Aqui)

The rain was here long before any of us were around to complain about it.

This thought came to mind as I sat in a coffee shop one morning wondering if and when the sun was ever going to come out and play again over the Emerald City.  I was at the Olive Starbucks on Seattle's Capitol Hill neighborhood at the time, and the raindrops were pummeling the large window to my left.  Seattle rain usually is of the drizzle variety, but on this particular morning, it reminded me more of torrential Hawaiian rain.

Which only reinforces my split personality lifestyle--one mental foot in Hawaii, and the other in Seattle.

Japan is also on my mind.  A lot of people's minds, for that matter.  

Sadly, the death toll in our Asian neighbors' homeland has reached five digits.  The meltdown of the nuclear reactors currently poses an ominous threat to the safety and security of not only the people of Japan but also the populations of other countries.

True to its role as a socioeconomic barometer of global current events, the stock market plummeted and then gained back a small portion of its drop yesterday.  As I write this just before 10:00 AM on Wednesday, March 16th, the Dow is at 11705, a drop of approximately 150 points, or 1.28%.  Understandably, the crisis in Japan figures significantly into the current stock market weakness, but history dictates that the investor's best course is to maintain a cool and calm mindset.

The rain was here long before any of us were around to complain about it.

We need to be mindful that it is not the event but rather our attitude about the event that makes or breaks us.  I will be the first to admit that I have much to learn about keeping my cool under fire.  But at least I can be honest about my weakness in that regard, and that in itself is a beginning.

I purposely selected a photo of 'Opaeka'a Falls for this post today that showed it in all its muddy water glory.  You won't see too many island postcards, if any at all, depicting a brown waterfall.  I mean, it's just not great marketing, is it?

Still, it's a definitive mark of integrity to showcase that which is natural and real and brutally honest.  

We're seeing a lot of that lately in the news.

Here's some additional insight regarding the photo above.  It was taken before the Ka Loko Dam breached  one night, resulting in several people being swept out to sea by a powerful flood.  

You can read about it here:  http://archives.starbulletin.com/2006/05/22/news/story02.html

Unfortunately, disasters happen.  It's an inevitable intersection where Mother Nature and civilized man 

have a head-on collision. 

Some blame God. Some praise God.  Some don't believe in God but nevertheless point their accusatory fingers at someone else. 

I choose to live by this simple and original homespun adage:

The rain was here long before any of us were around to complain about it.

                                         

MY PRIVATE RETREAT

Kahalani Beach on the island of Kauai
(Photo courtesy of Silas Kaumakahia Aqui)

I work the graveyard shift as a baker at a bagel production company in the Microsoft capital of the world--Redmond, Washington.  My co-worker is a 49-year-old black woman who loves--no, who lives!--to complain.  She has designated me (against my will, I might add) to be her go-to guy for all her rants. Wouldn't be so bad if she could just add a rave now and then...but like the incessant northwest drizzle, my co-worker (bless her heart!) is the proverbial contentious woman Solomon wrote about in Proverbs.


Hmm...I wonder if the wise king once moonlighted at a bagel production company himself?  They had bagels back then, didn't they?  Sure, they did.  Not to mention contentious women.  (Note to self:  Contemplate a future post comparing contentious women with bagels.)


Anyway, in spite of the full moon last night, I managed to get through the 10,000 bagels without burning a single one.


In fact, I went the whole week without toasting any bagels before their time.


That's a real plus for me.  Don't know if it's the ridiculous hours I work or if I have too many things going on in my brain all at once (truly, any rumors about me being bipolar were shattered years ago when I decided to fly off the disorder charts and land in my very own multiple-polar diagnosis).  But I digress...


I've been feeling fragmented lately.  And I know why.


Just returned three weeks ago from a splendid vacation on Kauai with my wife and two adult children.


Although it rained ten out of the twelve days we were in Hawaii, we had a great time visiting with my family of origin and taking in the breathtaking island sights.


It was a double whammy for me to say goodbye to my mother, siblings, and extended family members only to have to say goodbye to my wife and adult children two days after we arrived back in Washington.


The economy being what it is today, it's been necessary for me to work in Redmond while my wife and daughter live approximately 250 miles away in southeast Washington.  (My son attends graduate school in San Luis Obispo and is now officially--poor guy!--a California resident.)  My apologies to California residents--it's not your fault Arnold (Call me Terminator!) Schwarzenegger was a better actor than governor.  I'm just saying...


But I just love  the Eagles' "Hotel California."  I really dig that line:  "You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave."  What the...?


Where was I going with this?  I do have a point to make.  I think.


I wanted to RAVE about the fact that when I am feeling fragmented, that when I am in the midst of this tremendous angst about how much my life sucks and how very, very much I miss my two families, that when I find myself withdrawing my head into the 10,000 bagels a night because the pain of listening to my female co-worker's rants is just too much to bear...


I have a private place to retreat to.


Better than a vacation.


Better than a million bucks.  (Okay, it's well documented that multiple-polar personalities kid themselves.  A lot.  A whole lot!)


Better than getting into a hot tub.


Better than...okay, enough of that!


My private retreat is...


This blog.

DYLAN UTILIZING "THE SECRET"

Dylan Watanabe in deep visualization.
(Photo courtesy of Ryan)

(Dylan is in deep thought.  He's been hearing about "The Secret" and is meditating about the possibilities for his future successes.)

I am a three-sport letter man at my high school.

I have a superb grade point average.

I am an outstanding debater and win all kinds of awards.

I apply for and get accepted into a prestigious university.

Because I have several grants and scholarships,
I only have a minimal amount of student loans to pay off.

I am the CEO of a major Fortune 500 company.

My wife is beautiful, and my two children are gorgeous!

My childhood collection of 1000 hot wheels is worth a mint.

I am a Hawaii state legislator aspiring to the U.S. Senate!

I am an outstanding blogger and author of Hawaiiana.

I give back to my community by donating to children's causes.

(Dylan concludes his "Secret" session with the simple yet meaningful thought:

"Good things are going to happen to me now!")

KAINOA--THE GOLDEN ARM

Kainoa Aqui

It's all in the name.


My grandson, Kainoa, emphatically punctuates the first sentence of today's post.


His name, after all, is just that:  THE NAME.


That's what his Hawaiian name means:  THE NAME.


On Sunday, December 26, 2011, the day after Christmas, on his 8th birthday, Kainoa was a name boldly announced and not easily forgotten.


As the golden-armed quarterback of the Raiders, Kainoa led his team to victories in both the semi-final and championship Play Sports Hawaii youth flag football games at Aloha Stadium in Honolulu.


Not bad, considering his only practice the previous week was playing catch with my brother-in-law, Wayne, and--yours truly--Kainoa's proud grandpa.  During that time, I was amazed at how well Kainoa threw the pigskin.  His short and wiry 7-year-old build belied an incredibly strong and accurate arm.  Like a Gatling gun, he tossed perfectly spiraled bullets that led me to believe there was a bull's eye painted on my chest.


More than once during our game of catch, I thought:  If he's this good now, what's he going to be like in high school?


I'll just have to return to Hawaii a decade from now and find out for myself.


For now, thanks to the efforts of his dad (and my son), Richie, I get to watch some spectacular previews of Kainoa's athletic prowess on YouTube.


I swear, you'd think I was watching the Super Bowl.

#11 Kainoa leads his team to the Play Sports Hawaii 

U7 Flag Football Championship!
(Video courtesy of Richie Keawe Aqui)

The Kainoa Name in History

NCAA Youth Composite Football

Phiten Star Necklace, Black, 22"

Nerf Sport Flag Football Set