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nervous of sailing alone again. I looked at the weather and did not see any changes in what
it had been of late: balmy, warm trades, clear skies, wind speed probably ten to fifteen knots
when it arrived later in the morning.
Murphy had discovered his sand box and was playing in it. He was to be my constant com-
panion for the next year, as well as the cat with the most personality I have ever known. He
was just a shrimp then but would grow into a fine, big tom with a gingery red coat, with
white markings and socks. He had a long, tiger tail that he would flicker when angry, and
he spoke his mind at all times. He thought I was a cat too and played with my wrists and
arms mercilessly. He wasn't afraid of biting me either when he felt that I deserved it; he
was usually right that way.
I made a large, strong cup of instant coffee with raw brown sugar (the only way to eat sugar
in my opinion). I had gotten into the habit of filtering coffee from ground beans at Keehi,
but now, back at sea, that was too much effort, and I was back to the instant coffee. I missed
my morning cigarette thanks to Liz, who had given me an ultimatum earlier in our friend-
ship to choose between her or my Marlboros. I had immediately crushed the flip top box,
dramatically throwing it into the ocean (I was scolded for that one too) and to this day,
now twenty years later, I have never picked up another one.
After my meager breakfast of coffee and toast, I started the engine, hauled in on the single
anchor line, and, turning about, headed for the wide, open channel that would lead me out
to sea. I glided quietly past Liz, whose little, grey boat was in darkness, past Armchair
Steve's boat, and past other familiar boats before joining the main channel.
The sky was showing signs of lightening up, making navigating a bit easier. Glancing back
now and then towards the main shoreline of the island of Oahu, I saw the large, still, bright
haze of the city lights, punctuated with tall, red, mast lights and flashing strobes and nav-
igation warning lights. I was rather pleased to be leaving all this behind. I was a little sorry
to be on my own, but in a way I knew it was important for me to be so. I was learning a lot
about myself, and these solo trips gave me an in-depth look into who and what I was.
Now I could feel the exciting slow rise and fall of the waves under Déjà vu's keel. I still
had a way to go before leaving the channel, but it felt great to be on the verge of another sea
voyage. I breathed in the fresh, cool morning air, feeling alive and tingly. I glanced down
into the cabin as a slight, scuffing sound caught my attention. It was young Murphy discov-
ering and now chasing his stuffed mouse around the smooth, pine sole. He was blissfully
unaware of what was happening above decks. I hoped he would get his sea legs and not
become sick; I couldn't handle a sick kitten and single-hand as well.
The boat's speed was noticeably faster with the new, bigger propeller. The engine's revolu-
tions were down slightly, as the prop bit into more water, making the plucky little twelve
