Travel Reference
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hauled in the fishing line. I could feel the swells of waves as they rolled under my keel,
surfing us in towards the entrance through the reef. I was wide awake now!
I disengaged the steering vane and dropped the Genoa, hastily tying it to the pulpit with
shock cord. I corrected the helm and decided to leave the main up as it was giving me good
headway; besides, I would be upwind at the fuel dock, where I intended landing. I secured
the mooring lines fore and aft and dropped the attached fenders over the port side. The time
had come to disengage the engine and grab the two mooring lines after I had released the
main sheet. Déjà vu glided calmly over the placid water and nudged up against the fuel
dock with a squeal from a rubber fender. The mainsail fluttered harmlessly downwind.
There was a young tourist couple standing at the dock staring at my progress. The man
offered to take my line, but I shook my head with a slight smile. I jumped on the dock and
quickly secured both lines, “Thank you, but that's something I've wanted to do for several
months now.”
“Say buddy, where've you just come from?” he drawled in his lazy Texan accent.
“Australia!” I said theatrically, smiling at them as I climbed back on-board.
“So where's the rest of your crew?” they asked, puzzled.
“No crew, just me,” I grinned at their incredulous faces.
“No! You shittin' me pardner!” He pressed on, “All the way from Australia, in that little
boat? Well, I'll be damned!” He concluded, escorting his wife along by her elbow, “Well
I'll be damned….”
It was good to hear an American accent again. Was I home? I guess I was. Well, I'll be
damned!
After clearing in at the customs and immigration authorities, I was instructed to move my
boat to a spot right on the street outside the Harbor Pub and Grill. If I didn't believe in mir-
acles, I do now. I was informed by the grinning immigration officer that I had but twenty-
four hours left to arrive on American soil before my green card expired!
It was fun now for a while, what with all the attention I received from the passing traffic
and giggling Japanese tourist girls. I allowed myself a treat dinner at the pub that night, and
when I eventually fell asleep, I slept soundly on until the morning.
I remained in the Ala Wai Boat Harbor for several days, in various open spots as I found
them or as I was directed to by the authorities. I had phoned Jeri and was given a lovely
welcome. I had planned on sailing around the north shore and back into Kaneohe Bay. I
would visit her upon arrival.
