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island's green mountains and valleys; it was a stunningly beautiful sight from the ocean.
As the sun rose higher and we drew inexorably nearer, we started seeing traces of civiliz-
ation. We were in for a terrible shock, culturally and environmentally. As we drew closer,
we started seeing the big city of Honolulu. It was just another dirty, big city. The skyline
was silhouetted with countless, tall, concrete skyscrapers and buildings that looked so out
of place to us. We had been cruising in the deep, blue sea and sweet, little islands and now
suddenly we were downtown in the city. It was a shock that we were experiencing and was
to get a lot worse if it ever got any better.
“Jesus Christ, so that's the famous Honolulu,” said Gavin, staring unblinkingly and with a
look of naked disgust at the mess of concrete and bricks.
“Yeah. I guess it is. I had no idea it was this built-up. I was half hoping to see grass huts
and scantily clad girls with flowers around their necks and hula hoops! This is just another
rude city like Johannesburg or Los Angeles,” I said flatly.
“Well, I bet there are lots of sexy chicks here,” said Gavin optimistically. I had to laugh; it
was all important to him and a typical Gavinism, chicks, chicks, and more chicks, and who
could blame him. I had been without one for a long time too and was eager to meet one
myself.
“I think what's most important though is to find some work. We are flat broke and danger-
ously low on food and things.”
“Well, you are very lucky to have a green card, but I am not legally allowed to work here.”
“Ya, well they will never know, and what can they do if they find out? A man's got to eat,
and we will be working, not stealing or selling drugs or anything really bad, right?”
I had called up the coast guard earlier to ask them if I needed to clear in again in Oahu. I
felt it probably wasn't necessary as I had cleared in already in Radio Bay on the big island.
They informed me that it was probably not necessary but didn't know for sure. I decided
not to, and this would be a mistake. The coast guard had advised us to sail around to Keehi
Lagoon, which is on the outskirts of Honolulu and right next to the airport. I looked it up
on the chart and was terribly confused by all the different channel markers and entrances.
We saw several yachts coming out of one particular entrance, and as it was in the general
direction indicated on the chart, I decided to head there. We negotiated the channel markers
of the dredged entrance to Keehi Lagoon (which used to be the landing and mooring harbor
of the old floating sea planes one sees in the romantic Hawaiian movies of yesteryear).
America is the only country that has thumbed its nose at the metric revolution adopted by
the rest of the world. They still work in feet and inches, miles and yards, pounds and ounces
and they have kept the old buoy system for marking the entrances to channels and passages
