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Although it was with some reluctance that we raised the anchor to leave Honolua Bay at midday on Friday (May 18^th), we could not have asked for better snorkeling experiences there.  After motoring away from the rocks and out into the Pailolo Channel, we unfurled the jib, cut the engine, engaged the self-steering Susie, and let the 15 – 25 knots of wind push us at 5 to 6 knots with the slightly-faster-moving waves rolling beneath us. Keeping life simple, we first headed WSW on a starboard tack to a point almost equidistant between Maui, Moloka‘i, and Lana‘i and then, after gybing, we returned SE towards Lahaina in the Auau Channel.  After more than two hours at the helm in these ideal, downwind conditions, Randall went below for just a few minutes only to return to find the boat spinning in a slow circle, the jib flapping, and almost no wind.  White-caps still topped the waves just behind us but within a very short distance we had moved into the lee of West Maui.  As are the quirks of trade-winds and steep-sided islands, there was no gradual reduction in the wind-speed or change in direction as we moved into Maui’s wind-shadow but an abrupt calm.  After dropping the jib and starting to motor the final few miles to our destination, the wind picked up a little but it was now an island-generated, onshore breeze approaching us from the SW rather than the ocean-crossing NE trade-winds. We speculated that yacht racing in this area could be pretty complicated.

Having discovered that there were no slips available in the Lahaina Small Boat Harbor (which was a pity as they owed us a night’s accommodation since we had been overcharged during our November visit), we had made a reservation to use one of the Lahaina Yacht Club’s moorings.  Convinced by our cruising-guide’s description that the Club’s moorings were marked by large, orange floats and thinking that I had confirmed this when I called, this was what we searched for in the mooring field just off-shore of the Yacht Club.  We finally selected a mooring that looked suitable and although we were a bit surprised not to see “LYC” and a number on the float, by 3:30 pm we were settled.  I had tried to call the Club to confirm we were on the right mooring but I had to leave a message.  However, when I got online and studied the GPS coordinates provided for the seven Club moorings, I became convinced that we were not quite in the right place and started scanning our surroundings with the binoculars.

Much to Randall’s dismay (he was not feeling perfectly well and wanted to call it a day) I spotted some white floats further inshore which clearly had “LYC” on them.  Although it seemed unlikely that someone was going to come to displace us that late in the day, the possibility of having to move after dark was not appealing so Randall was reluctantly convinced to fire up the engine one more time and we moved to a white, LYC mooring.  So much for the mooring details in the cruising-guide and for getting myself fixated on an incorrect search pattern.

The cruising-guide was correct, however, about the rolly conditions on the moorings.  Luckily, it was never bad enough during our three night stay to compel us to set-up our flopper-stopper (roll stabilizer), although there were some short spells when we wished that we had.  The wind, current, and swell varied in strength and direction throughout the night so that the boat’s direction, stability, and noise (creaking when rolling) kept changing.  We did not spend much of the day aboard so although our sleep was not always uninterrupted, it was tolerable for a brief visit.

On Saturday, we rented a car (after a slightly frustrating misunderstanding about where we were to be picked-up) and replaced our engine starter-battery which we had discovered was dead when we left Ala Wai.  Lahaina may not have been the cheapest place to get it but having a car simplified the process.  Since leaving Ala Wai we had been able to start the engine using the house-battery-bank but this is not a satisfactory long-term arrangement because if there is insufficient wind- or solar-generated power to charge the house-bank, it might not be possible to start the engine to charge the batteries using the alternator.  Although wind- and solar-generated power have been abundant in Hawai‘i, this is not likely to be the case at all times in Alaska.

In the afternoon, we drove north from Lahaina and stopped to admire the busy Honolua Bay from two viewpoints on the coastal road.  We then continued along the scenic road, making a full circumnavigation of West Maui.  We stopped at the northernmost point to see the (almost inevitable) blowhole at Nakalele, we admired the Yosemite-Half-Dome-like Pu‘u Koa‘e headland, and I thoroughly enjoyed driving along the narrow, very twisty, guard-rail-less, cliff-side road that our map described as “Not for faint-hearted”.  That part of the drive may not have been quite as pleasant for the passenger but Randall bore it cheerfully and we agreed that the views exceeded our expectations.

I am afraid that I cannot quite say the same about our visit to the ‘Iao Valley State Park.  This park is at the head of a narrow valley that runs from the volcanic caldera at the center of the West Maui Mountains (highest peak 5,788 ft or 1,764 m) down through Wailuku (the seat of Maui County) and Kahului, the largest town on the island.  The drive into the valley is impressive and a small, attractive terraced-garden, fed by one of several streams, is being developed based on ancient-Hawaiian crops.  The star-feature of the park, however, is the ‘Iao Needle, a tower of hard rock that rises to 2,250 ft (686 m).  Foolishly, my expectations of this feature were based on a sunlit and poorly remembered photograph of a soaring and isolate spire.  So the reality of a shaded pinnacle, backed by low-level clouds that was surrounded by much higher peaks was, quite frankly, rather disappointing.  Fortunately, Randall had not been influenced by my mistaken expectations and was much more impressed, making the detour from our circumnavigation and the parking fee completely worthwhile.

The next morning we debated briefly about revisiting ‘Iao Valley when it might be in sun or driving up Haleakala Volcano to the island’s highest summit Pu‘u Ula‘ula (Red Hill) at 10,023 ft (3,055 m).  In the end we did neither, deciding that the morning’s rapidly forming clouds might thwart our views on both counts.  We had been to the Haleakala Visitors Center during our visit in 2004, so we decided to forgo a return trip and possible hike in the caldera, for something that neither of us had done before, driving the “Road to Hana” which is described as “one of the most spectacular coastal drives in the world”.

Built over part of a 138-mile (222 km) trail from the 1500s that encircled the whole island, the Road to Hana was first constructed by prison trustees from volcanic cinders.  It was first paved in 1962 but became so pot-holed that for a while “I survived the Road to Hana” T-shirts became popular.  Recently widened and repaved it is now possible to drive beyond Hana, at the easternmost point of Maui, to Kipahulu where the Haleakala National Park has descended from the caldera to the sea. 

After a sustaining breakfast at Marco’s Restaurant near the start of the Hana Highway in Kahului, we drove the 52 miles (84 km) along East Maui’s north-shore to Hana with just a couple of stops to see some of the many waterfalls along the way.  The road is certainly twisty with many yield-signs for single-lane sections but at first we started to wonder if our previous day’s excursion had spoiled us for coastal roads.  Most of the road is considerably above sea level and far enough inland that glimpses of the sea are surprisingly rare but the tropical vegetation (sadly much non-native), waterfalls, and steep valleys are beautiful. 

About halfway to Hana, the road clings to the cliffs above Honomanu and Nua‘ailua Bays in a suitably spectacular manner.  Beyond Hana the distance from road to sea is much reduced providing expansive views over the ‘Alenuihaha Channel although the Big Island was hidden in clouds and haze.  The Hana Highway becomes the Pi‘ilani Highway in Hana and this road crosses the southern slopes of Haleakala to join with other highways that eventually circle around the western flank of the volcano and back to Kahului. A four-wheel drive vehicle is needed for a very rough, narrow, unpaved seven-mile section of road just beyond Kipahulu, so most people, like us, turn around at the National Park.

We did not stay long in Hana because there were outrigger canoe races being held in the bay completely filling the Beach Park with spectators. We did not give much thought as to how the long, six-person canoes all got to Hana until on our return drive we caught a glimpse of one across Nua‘ailua Bay.  It was on the road ahead of us atop a large pick-up truck.  Talk about a challenging vehicle to drive along that convoluted road.  For traffic coming the other way, it must have been pretty startling to see the bow of an inverted canoe approaching from around a tight bend.

Hana Bay would undoubtedly be an interesting place to anchor but is notoriously unpleasant when the trade-winds are blowing so we were satisfied with our brief view from shore.  Just north of Hana we stopped at Wai‘anapanapa State Park which boasts a low sea-arch (very reminiscent to us of Los Tuneles on Isla Isabela, in The Galapagos), several inland caves, a lava tunnel running into the sea, and a black sand beach.  Flocks of noddies on some of the craggy black-rock islets appeared to be enjoying their isolation from mongoose predators. 

Perhaps because of the lack of parking space in Hana, Wai‘anapanapa Park was particularly crowded, especially with mini-buses.  At the restroom, this created a line of about 20 women in which I had to stand patiently.  Under such circumstances, it is amazing the small mercies for which we can be grateful.  One local lady traveling in a camper van approached the status of sainthood by handing out strips of toilet paper from her own roll having found that none remained in the cubicles.

During my 15 minute wait in line, I listened quietly as the two ladies behind me discussed their respective gardens in Florida and Massachusetts. When one of them asked me where I was visiting from, I gave our standard explanation that I had been living on our boat in Hawai‘i for a year and had sailed here from Florida.  This aroused more interest than usual in the captive audience and I was peppered by questions about our travels from up and down the line.  I almost felt rude when I reached the head of the line and had to cut-short an answer.  What was more remarkable, was hearing from my stall a continued discussion of our travels, as the topic of conversation was explained to women newly joining the line.  Given a choice, I would rather have the toilet paper hand-out any day but it felt good to have had provided a story that appeared to enliven the wait for a handful of women.  Somewhat surreally, I received many good wishes for the rest of our travels as I exited the restrooms and passed the line of strangers.  

After returning to Tregoning in the late afternoon, we were greeted by our neighbor, Craig, as he returned to his boat “Luckness”.  We invited him aboard and he explained that he had sailed from Seattle to Mexico before crossing to Hawai‘i and was planning to return to Seattle within a few weeks.  We tried not to overload him with information about Honolua, O‘ahu, and Kaua‘i but as a single-hander he seemed very glad of the opportunity to talk to other cruisers.  It was a humbling reminder that although what we do may seem remarkable to a handful of the more typical “Road to Hana” tourists, within the cruising community, the people who sail oceanic passages on their own are truly extraordinary.