Drake Magazine Online

Exhibit A: Mauka.

Seasonal Affective Disorder is still a bitch, and this winter was a long and dreary one. When the sun makes a half-assed attempt at rising around 9, doesn't really put a whole lot of effort into shining, and then just sorta gives up and sets around 3pm, a fella can get a little out of whack, as it were. During the long dark winter, vacation plans were twice made and twice put on hold or canceled due to ridiculous scheduling conflicts, and by late February the Wife and I were both about to lose our shit...blame it on vitamin D deficiency.

Before the situation could boil over, we made one last-ditch effort to get the hell out of AK for a bit. As luck would have it, several circumstances lined up and we managed to score some good last-minute lodging, a cheap ride, and some seats on a 737 headed in a Southwesterly direction. According to our spy network the weather wasn't exactly the stuff tropical dreams are made of, but sometimes you have to trade 23° and overcast for 81° and overcast, plus drinks with little umbrellas in them. As a bonus, we had a sweet fishing flat right out the back door, one that I had spent a couple hours on previously and had been jonesing to get back to. Gonna be a good time, tater.

What follows (as per my usual) is a semi-nonlinear series of mostly random photos taken over the course of 12 days in-country. Top-captioning will be provided and, if appropriate, additional commentary in the form of hula dancing or sand etching will be provided. As there is a limit to the number of pics a fella can attach, this will be the Mauka post, and the next one will have all the Makai stuff.

Pretty sure there's a kitchen sink in there somewheres. Southbound and down. Upon arrival, I wasted no time not being wasted. Or something.
Overcast conditions, grumpy narrator. The Better Half basking in the sunset on the Western lanai.
We spent a little time cruisin' around the island lookin' at chicks... Locals. Speaking of locals, there is a little noodle shop down a one-way street near the big town. If you are lucky enough to get there at the right time and the line is less than an hour long, you might get a spot at the W-shaped counter and dig in to one of the best bowls of Saimin in the western world. The other local staple, best enjoyed with a tall glass of Rum, sparkling water, and fresh calamansi. Because no trip report is even remotely complete without some DSFK To Be Continued...

Exhibit B: Makai.

As with other tropical vacations, most of our time was spent in the water...or underwater. I don't know about y'all, but I am a fool for the snorkeling. Even during a monsoon. One of the things I dig about this place is the sheer number of turtles, doing turtle-y things like sleeping under coral heads or snacking on limu on the outer reef fringes. Occasionally they cruise the haole snorkelling beaches, but the best turtle viewing is usually in the snorkeling equivalent of the off-piste areas. This one was taking his pet goatfish for a...walk? Fin? Swim?

Occasionally the turtles need a break from doing turtle-y things and haul out on the beach. For a while I thought this one was dead, but unlike the Norwegian Blue (beautiful plumage, innit?), this one WAS actually just resting. The Monk seals also haul out and take a break from things monk seals do when they are not taking breaks. Most of the good fish viewing is right under the surf break. Kihikihi. Weke. Remember kids - it’s all fun and games until you get ragdolled while watching fish.

In case you were wondering, I DID actually fish on this trip. I spent some time fishing itty bitty seaweed flies in the foamy green for aquarium fish, and they didn’t disappoint. Since the surf didn’t get much below 8 feet for most of the trip, I also spent most of my aquarium-fish-fishing-time trying not to die on the slick-ass reef…as a result, this is the only photo that turned out. While walking on the outer reef of another beach, I severely misjudged both the depth and my ability to nimbly cross a coral gap near one of the reef entrances. Luckily, I held on to my fishpole as I went ass over teakettle into about 10’ of crystal clear warm bathwater. Unluckily, the zip closure of my third-world flybox (let’s hear it for Ziploc bags!) was open and I managed to soak my entire collection. I managed to get about 7 hours of flats time on several little juicy bits in search of bonefish, and in that time I saw 9 of these incredibly frustrating creatures and had reasonably good shots at 6. Of those, exactly ZERO wanted to play with me. Bonefish are jerks. “Drive until you see the cows” he said. “When you see the cows, you are close. Follow the guardrail and where it breaks, walk makai and the ‘o’io beach will be on your right”. Sure enough, this guy was right where he was supposed to be. Unfortunately, the ‘o’io were not. I managed to hook a few papio and a few Awa’aua as consolation prizes from the cow beach. And far too soon, it was time to get back to reality. I got one last look at the south side before we ascended through the clouds... Until next time.