January 27 and 28, 2000 / 0 days since departure

Source: Sam Low

Thursday, January 27, 2000

The weather is torrid, not a breath of wind. The water in the lagoon is like a mirror, with only a light scrim of surf lining the reef. Puffs of cumulus clouds sit like crenelated castles all around the horizon, with cirrus clouds, mare's tails, moving almost imperceptibly overhead.

The crew is taking flu shots this morning as a precaution, administered by crew doctor Ming-Lei Tim Sing and crew member Kaui Pelekane, a nurse at the Queen's Hospital in Honolulu.

Most of the repairs and checks on the canoe are complete. The food is loaded. The big job for the day is loading water, in five gallon jugs.

Whenever Hokule'a arrives in Tahiti, her crew is fed and housed by the villagers of Tautira, with assignments arranged by Sane Matehau, mayor for the last 23 years and a propserous contractor specializing in building roads and foundations in Tahiti. Sane has six brothers and three sisters, and a huge extended family.

The generosity of the families here is staggering. Hopefully some of us will have the opportunity to host them when they visit O'ahu for Hokule`a's 25th anniversary celebration on March 12th. They plan to arrive, about 40 of them, on March 8th and stay for two weeks.

Friday, January 28, 2000

Preparations continue for putting to sea. During the crew meeting this morning Nainoa asks us to have the canoe ready to depart on a three hour notice beginning tomorrow. The wind has been steadily light and northerly but if it shifts fortuitously back to the SE trades we must be ready to take advantage of it. Our main problem is to get North beyond the Tuamotus, he tells us, "and that's about 240 miles. So if the wind shifts we've got to go."

The Tuamotu islands are a screen that spread across our course North to Hawaii. Sometimes called "the dangerous islands" they are low coral atolls difficult to see during the day and almost impossible at night although Master Navigator Mau Piailug can smell their coconut palms many miles at sea. The islands are a blessing for canoes sailing from Hawaii to Tahiti because they provide a 405 mile long "safety net" across the canoe's path--a large area of land and bird signs that extends the geography of landfall. But sailing back to Hawai'i they are a barrier to the open ocean which must be passed before a navigator can breathe freely.

With the wind on our beam--from the east--we can sail through the Tuamotus quickly, but when it is from the north, as it is today, we must tack--extending the time we are among the low coral atolls--and the danger.

As we wait for favorable winds hundreds of chores are completed--life jackets, harnesses and flashlights are distributed to the crew, strobe lights, and man overboard gear is checked; electrical equipment tested--radios, satellite transponders, solar panels and batteries; the galley gear is loaded aboard.

Tomorrow the vigil begins. The navigators will scan the skies for signs of easterly winds while we wait for the word to depart--our duffel bags packed and ready to go.