Hawaii

The Fiji stopover was short and sweet — the beer at the terminal was cold and the night hot and oppressive. Goodbye to the barman, a guy that was born with a Hendrix haircut and leg muscles like the Spartans at the bridge.

Tell myself; “love to get out near those mid-flight mountains some sunny day.”

“Ah well!” back into the tummy of the flying supermarket. Hawaii, here we come, rolling in on a succulent wave of “Ono” butter — toheroo soup — Penfold’s Shiraz Mataro, and New Zealand epicure cheese — YUM!

Forty-thousand feet above the forgotten Pacific, and the world outside my window becomes important.

Daybreak! — just like it was made for the angels — only our angel had silver wings — with rivets.

The Captain — speaking from another planet — “Good morning. Those of you that are awake will note a massive and unusual cloud formation just over the tip of the starboard wing. Inside that cone is one of Hawaii’s tallest mountains—the volcanic Mauna Kea. We will be landing at Honolulu International Jetport approximately 35 minutes from now.”

The tired body responds to the news with a small vibration of anticipation. Got to beat the rush to the toilets — wash — teeth — shave, want to feel right when I step out into that Honolulu sun.

“Fasten safety belts and please extinguish cigarettes — we are approaching Honolulu.”

Outside the window is dense cloud — aircraft bumps, but tummy is acclimatized. Suddenly - the blazing azure blue of the Pacific — it’s real — almost forgot where we were.

We bank in a great sweeping curve. The land is visible — strain your eyes to check for locations — there’s Barbers Point — count the headlands north — there it is, Makaha Point — my God! look at the lines — must be 20 feet. Hell — how big must Sunset be?

Sudden realization that the heart is thumping — the adrenalin pumping — feeling slightly dizzy — now the military airfield is below — Hawaii, the front line — fighters and bombers and transports. Skimming in over innumerable small reefs and breakwaters.

Yeah — no mistaking it now — here we are — again.

Think I’ll take a warm-up wave at Makaha — hope it’s not too big — Christ, I don’t dare think about Sunset.

Immigration up ahead, and me standing here feeling guilty — God knows what for.

“How long do you intend to stay, sir — four weeks — here for the Makaha Contest eh — good luck, sir — welcome to Hawaii!”

Makaha Contest — he’s got to be kidding.

Hey Buddy — how much you charge hire dis cab to Sunset Beach?

“Sunset you say — what you wanna go dere for — Makaha mo betta!”

You know Buffalo?

“Buffalo - he my seester’s cousin - you go Makaha eh."

No — Sunset.

“You crazy — go to Sunset — see dat guy down de end of rank — he goes Sunset all de time — heh Buster you wan a fare to country — he say fok Sunset.”

Yeah — here we are again - the old Hawaii hassler.

Hey Baddio — help me with these bloody boards — well park em up at the main building — let’s go buy a car.

S60.00 to Sunset - he’s got to be kidding.

Hey brudda, you got a stashun waggin?