The Love Boat was white with red trim, and sat nicely in the dock, waiting for the six of us to board for the morning at sea. “Welcome to the Love Boat!” says our captain, from below the deck. “Ooooh, the Loooove Boat,” I nudged JD as the rest of us chuckled at the boat’s endearing name. Monday is day off for the Palmers and the Groves, and the Barshaws Jr. invited us to join them on a sail out to sea for a swim with the turtles. We were giddy with excitement at an opportunity to see Hawaii like the tourists do…
The sail started easily enough. A gentle rocking motion guided us through the waves and we settled comfortably in the boat. Jess, Heather, and I congregated to the front of the boat, while the men gathered near the wheel.
I’ve sailed once before that I can remember – and it was on a lake.
Soon the captain raised the sails and we started booking it to Turtle Canyon. We females chatted while observing the incredible view of Waikiki from the sea. The boat picked up speed and began sailing into swells. The wind blew toward shore and suddenly the mild sailboat ride turned into a rollercoaster ride not meant for the faint hearted – at least it seemed that way from the front of the boat. I noticed a small seat at the very nose of the boat, a cushion in tact so that a strange, brave person could look out at the ocean with almost nothing below. I decided I wanted to be that strangely brave person and scrambled to the very front of the boat where the sides came to a point. Just as I reached the railing, the boat decided to tip significantly sideways, sending me just barely hanging on as a wave washed onto the boat, successfully soaking me. I decided I wasn’t able to move for quite a while, and just sat there, holding on for dear life, laughing so hard I really might have wet myself. The captain just might have been making fun of me.
I found my way back to Jess and Heather and we continued squealing as the swells got bigger and we got wetter. At one point, we tipped so far that we looked back and saw JD and the captain scrambling to the other side for balance. Our toes were nearly in the water. I decided to follow suit and dove face first toward the other side of the boat, lying flat on my belly, grasping for the rails, and I’m pretty certain, displaying a hideous look of terror all while screaming and laughing like a six year old girl. It was amazing.
I’m so grateful for those hours on the ocean. I haven’t tasted adventure in a while. It was sweet for my soul and reviving for my spirit.
And I did manage to sit in the seat on our way back, when it was much calmer. Glorious.