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 Sunset on Kepuhi Bay
With twelve hours to go before the start of the Molokai I caught up
with Rob via Skype. Rob had spent the day packing up and flying from
Honalulu to the island of Molokai and was trying to locate his surfski
which had left the day before on an escort boat. He was glad to see
whitecaps on the water from the airplane and all indications are that
the weather will be kind to the paddlers. Unfortunately there will not
be the famous 10 ft deep ocean swells and 20 knot tail wind but there
is a 10 knot easterly wind which will generate a windswell heading in
the direction of Oahu and the finish at Hawaii Kai.
The weather conditions in the Kai'wi Channel are currently 11.5 knots blowing almost dead west toward Oahu, and according to those in the know, this will make for a 'pleasant crossing' with a possible record time. I could hear the relief in Rob's voice, nobody wants a repeat of last year's hot windless start with a headwind at the finish combined with adverse currents. Also this year the finish reverts back to Hawaii Kai which make the course a good 10km shorter. Key this year is the direction of the tidal current which is opposite to that which plagued the exhausted field last year.
The paddler's on Molokai had just completed a pasta dinner and race briefing. The start will be on the water at exactly 9am Hawaii time, the boats will line up with the slower contestants having been requested to 'hang back'. The escort motor boats will leave 20mins after the paddlers and Rob's strategy is to take it easy until the boats come past with the associates wakes to ride. Rob has been advised to head slightly north of the direct line to Oahu as the waves will be pushing him south as he gets into the channel. He will then head for the lighthouse on the north side of Diamond Head on Oahu.
As I write this it is just before midnight Hawaii time, I guess most paddlers are either lying awake with butterflies in their stomachs or sleeping soundly. Or they might still be in the pub with Oscar and Herman drinking a dozen beers like the 'laughing fellow-rovers' from John Masefield's poem Sea Fever.
Sea-Fever
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
John Masefield
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