Mini Maui Moments Vol. 2-3

This is a story about a Tomato Mud Party

More severe than it seemed...sorta

The night I got the Vana in my foot, I began to drink whiskey.  Everyone was planning on going out that night, so there was plenty of vodka and beer to go around.

The plan, as it were, was that one of Nate’s good friends was throwing a party and we were all scheduled to attend.  I say scheduled because it was a "fancy" private function where you needed to have your name on a list, you know, like "Chucky Cheese" (fancy!).  That type of party can only go one of two ways…really awesome or really..."should have stayed at home with the booze and the gun".

Now THIS...I could get into

The logistics:

The party was to be held in a tomato orchard.  Okay…sort of hillbilly but those are sometimes fun...

With security (at the door, checking names on a list) and a DJ. Okay…a little too "P.Diddy" for me, but could be interesting at least...

Bring your own alcohol.  Not always bad.  Not always good either.  You're losing me...I haven't been lost but....Okay...

These are the only things we knew when we got back to the house from the beach and began drinking.

Then Nate actually decides to read the text message from the girl who is throwing the party.  Keep in mind, we are supposed to leave to go to this party in that next hour or so when the information comes to us. 

I’m the new one to the group, so I’m keeping my mouth shut to this point.  I’m not trying to step on any toes here so I’m just going with the flow.  The party doesn't sound to great but I’m up for whatever.

Until I hear about how the rest of the party will be.  

White people problems #001

Remaining previously unmentioned party logistics:

$15 cover charge at the door....FOR WHAT? We're bringing out own alcohol?  Am I getting a vegetable/fruit basket at this party?...No? What the hell am I paying for?

Western Themed…

Not nearly enough of this
at these things...

mmm....now I'm all about the theme parties generally...although western is probably one of my least favorite...for accessibility and cost purposes...plus we are supposed to be there in an hour...no dice

Bring your own coolers, blankets, and chairs…aka we have nowhere for you to sit...can we go back to the first unmentionable?  What the f*** are we paying YOU for?

20 minutes away…cab ride there, cab ride back, $15 cover, b.y.o.b…..b.u.l.l.s.h.i.t.

My mental image of this idea

So bottom line here is….and I announce this to anyone within earshot because I have decided it’s not happening regardless of what everyone else does.  Well, the whiskey making it's way down to my injured foot decided this, I just went along.  

I’ll roll out somewhere solo in a heartbeat though, I have no dramas with that.

You want me to pay for a cab ride 20 minutes away, bring my own booze, pay $15 to get in with my name on a list, with no food supplied, to stand around in the mud, in a cold, dark tomato orchard with a group of people I don’t know dressed as cowboys or whatever, with nowhere to sit, then pay for a cab ride back????

Not the plan unfortunately...

"I’m out." (drops the mic)

You guys do what you like.  You lost me.  I’m not going.  That’s crap, all of it.  It just kept getting worse.  They read the text, looked at the Facebook invite, and everytime someone opened their mouth to read a new detail it just got more and more retarded.

I made it known that I was not going to be participating in the “Tomato Mud Party” and I would be going downtown by myself for anyone else who would like to go. 

The incomparable Nate Cloud

Poor Nate HAD TO GO because it was his friend.  I told him, I didn’t know the girl so I didn’t feel bad about it but if there’s that much stipulation to your party, you should be paying me (as well as others) to come…not the other way around.  Jesus.

Luckily I wasn't the only one who felt this way.  Everyone else sided with me and we got ridiculously drunk and went downtown…where absolutely NOTHING was happening.

If you want to know a level of drunk that I was at.  Among other questionable decisions…At the first place we went to, we got a round of drinks, all in the $5 range.  I got up to go to the bathroom and decided to be a nice guy with my new pals and buy the round.

The guy hands me a tab for $50.  I didn’t say a word, I didn’t even look at the ticket, I didn’t question the pricing, nothing…I just slapped three 20’s inside and tell him to keep the change….

Usually not even that amount left...

He didn't notice (or didn’t want to tell me), I never noticed either.  I’m not in Australia anymore, drinks don’t cost that much here.  I’m an idiot.

I woke up the next morning to check the damage in my wallet (as I do, after I wake up with my head hurting like I just had a "friends with benefits" conversation).  I only took out $100, and we only went to two places…one of which, Jackie paid for the drinks…that’s when it hits me…Adam, you’re retarded.  Way to be champ.

On a brighter note, after talking to Nate that day, we found out that the party was as disastrous as it sounded.  I think he said there were 30 people and no one could move around the orchard because of these sticky sharp pine cone type things on the ground inside…no dancing, no sitting, no walking either.  Terrible.

Terrible and I end up spending about the same amount of money….but hey, at least I didn’t go stand in the mud.

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Pirate Sailboat Party

So as Jackie would tend to do from time to time during my time with her on Maui...and really since I've known her....is she comes up with these impromptu plans and ideas with out any hesitation or warning.

I love it about her actually.

Not that this was her idea, but she was invited to "Pirate" themed sailboat party (say what?...chicka chicka yeah) and decided to tell me about, oh, the day before when we were getting schwasted.

I roll off the couch the next morning hungover and pleasant as usual.  The first question I'm asked is, "Adam, what are you going to do about your pirate costume for this party?"

Seeing as how I just woke up and remembered where I was and what was happening, my response was not very exciting.  According to Jackie, I HAD TO find a costume, or they wouldn't let me on the boat.  

Which I told her I thought was racist...but I like to call things racist that aren't actually racist.  Mainly because I'm not actually sure how to clarify those particular instances where I feel there is some wrong being done to me, the white heterosexual male.  I get a big kick out of it.

It's not about what's true, it's about what's funny for me....

I would later find out that this wasn't the case at all however because of the 20-25 people on the boat at the party, I think 12 had some similance of a pirate outfit on (eye patch, bandanna  etc).  So I obviously did the only thing I know how to do in these situations...go completely overboard with my costume in the cheapest way imaginable.

What can I say?  Theme parties...they're kind of my thing.

Not bad for short notice...

Mr. Nate St. Cloud helped me in this department.  He allowed me access to the linen closet and some of his older Halloween accessories.  I looked more like an aboriginal islander than a pirate I guess but when you're dealing with these things last minute....you do what you can.  So I had the bracelets, the necklaces and I managed to find a shirt to tear apart.  I think it turned out pretty well.

I managed to miss the first boat out to the party however (because I've been late by at least 15 minutes for 26+ years now).  So I had to wait at the dock for a little while for them to make another trip back.  As I was sitting there enjoying my first (of many) scotch and waters, I get the feeling that I'm being watched...because I am...by EVERYBODY.

...not bad for poor planning

What?  You guys never been to pirate party on a sailboat? JEEZ

That's when I knew my costume was a hit.  Anytime you can disrupt some random civilians day, things are going well for you.  We got out to the boat before sunset and started drinking, meeting people, having a good time, as we do.

Nick at the beginning of the night....

I managed to finish my whiskey bottle by myself which made me a lot drunker than I thought and/or intended to be.  Something about the idea of pirates, boating, wenches and dark alcohol took hold of me.  Jack Sparrow told me to do it.  The remainder of our time on the boat consisted of, people getting pushed in the water, a rave of sorts made possible by these magic balloons with tiny lights in them, Jackie Dressler freestyles, and of course....a naked birthday boy.

The reason everyone was there was for Nick.  One of Jackie's best friend's boyfriend.  It was his birthday and he's not entirely shy when it comes to nudity.  I suppose this is a nice change of pace because I'm usually the half-naked or completely naked one of the group...but the birthday boy, rocking his birthday suit kind of goes together like a Ryan Reynolds movie where his character loses a shirt.

Clothing?  Do what?

Naked Nick began his birthday penis-parade by flying into the water to save a halogen balloon.  We are eco-friendly pirates of course.  He originally had one of the balloons tied to his board-shorts, a giant red-one, so it looked like his penis, so this was obviously the next logical step

Well, he couldn't get that off in time (not sure what the rush was) when it came time to jump in so he lost the shorts completely and showed his very real, very white penis to retrieve the balloon.  Then just decided that the shorts were unnecessary for the remaining three hours we were there.  

Everyone treated it as normal protocol.  I tried to explain to them that they were decent, humble human-beings because if ANY of my friends were there and I was the naked guy, my dick would be on Facebook...yesterday.

....rest of the night

I also made an impromptu comment about the happy couple making out and how I was about 30 seconds away from seeing another man's boner up close and personal for the first time in my life....

Mistake.

Apparently this triggered Nick into believing that his nakedness made me uncomfortable (he don't know me very well...do he? - Bugs Bunny shout out).  So Nick wanders over to me and sits down on my lap, he pulls his girlfriend Brianna up to him to make what can only be described as a "Nick's tricky dick sandwich, on very white bread with extra MAN-naise".  

I subsequently respond to this by telling him that this is NOT my first rodeo (whatever that meant) and it is not even the weirdest thing I've seen or been a part of in that past month.  His nakedness was just another day in the park to me, a very weird day with nudity at the park but still...I feel like if you want to be naked, you should, clothes are overrated.  I'm naked while typing this right now...not really but my point is that any chance I get...I'm droppin' trow..so I know what he's "going through".

Then Nick, as if he hadn't been passing the Johnnie Walker Red bottle back and forth with me and chatting 20 minutes before...stands up, shakes my hand and announces to the whole boat, "Who are you?  Who did you come here with?  I like you man, I'm glad you came to my birthday party...welcome."

I have a history of making people in their birthday suits like me, what can I say? (badum-psh; as a cymbal would look if it were a word and not a sound).  

To close out our eventful evening on the water, Nick got "pumpkin-dicked".  

Which is a term that I am officially making mine right now...because somehow someway, there was pumpkin pie aboard the ship...for eating...someone (don't remember who) decided it would funnier if they pie smashed Nick in the dick with the pumpkin pie...and they were completely right...it was funny.

After all of that, we decided to head in to shore.  As you do when you shove pastries onto another humans genitalia I assume.

Bailey, one of Jackie's other friends was nice enough to give us a ride back...Bailey was also quite drunk and almost got a boat D.U.I.  

Three cops walked out onto the dock as Bailey was trying to park (ahem...), force the boat in between the others.  It was like a college party after that, everyone scattered.  She didn't get a D.U.I. though, the cops were cool apparently.  I wouldn't know because I try not to interact with policemen any chance I get...or don't get...sober OR intoxicated.

"ARRGGHH,
No hot tubin' for us Adam,
ARRGGHH"

We did know where everyone was going, which in most cases is a plus.  The group consensus was some hotel hot tub, which in most cases is a definite plus!  

Jackie however decided long before that that in no way were we going to said hotel hot tub party.  For reasons I still can't explain or fathom.  She just wasn't into it and she's my buddy, and no amount of drunken pirate wenches could change that...so I went with her to "our'" local watering hole instead.  

We were so drunk and did not need any more alcohol whatsoever, but we sat around and had a few more drinks anyways, like good pirates do.  One of the last things that I remember was attempting to fight the goblet of beer like an old man against new age society.

At Spanky's they serve their drafts in these Lil' Jon type goblet pimp-cup things that are made of glass. They're obnoxious.  Or after a bottle of hard liquor I'm just a big baby (also feasibly accurate).

"GREAT SCOTTS!"

I just remember thinking, which in turn usually correlates into me actually saying; "What is this? Why is this SO HEAVY...this is inappropriately heavy...all I want is a beer...how did you get a nice light bottle?"  Or to quote one Doc Brown, "Why are things so heavy in the future!?"

And then proceeding to get two more and struggling just as much to lift them up as well.  Literally clawing at these impossibly "heavy" mugs like it was a weightlifting competition on ESPN.  Apparently I couldn't figure out that if I kept ordering "beer", the waitress would continue to bring me the same exact goblet until I specified otherwise.  

Finally, Jackie paid me a pardon and ordered me a nice/manageable bottle to drink out of...aka slip in her purse for the walk back home.  

Then the "Humpty Dance" came on right as we were leaving and as for anyone who hasn't read my past adventures...I have a thing for breaking out the "Humpty Dance"...even when the "Humpty Dance" song isn't exactly being played...so when it IS played...I take every opportunity to do it...

"The Humpty Dance...is yo chance...to do the hump...oh, yeah...sexy laaadddddyyyyyy...Do the humpty-hump, watch me do the humpty-hump", to quote Shock G of Digital Underground.

I love it.  Jackie, poor little white filly that she is had never heard of such a thing.  So I had to teach her.  In the street, carrying home our beers from her purse, after we left the bar with the humpty dance music...to do the humpty dance randomly in silence on our stumble home....

Good times Maui.  Good times.

Mini Maui Moments Vol.1

Ratatouille terrorizes Lahaina

Here’s the first volume of a collection of random happenings from my time in Maui that had absolutely no business being anywhere else. 

They go together but they don’t.  They weren’t important enough to include in any other article but I thought they were funny enough that they still had to be told in some forum.

I guess I’ll start with the “Super Rat”.

-Ratatouille (the name we gave him) - is an insanely powerful and resourceful rat that lives in Jackie’s house.  He’s too smart to be caught and too strong to be killed.  He is the ultimate vermin. 

On my first night at Jackie’s house, all of her roommates were hanging out in the kitchen.  They were having some tea and just chatting about their days so Jackie and I unloaded the car from our camping trip and joined them (see…the stories connect…sort of).

So as we’re standing around getting to know each other, there’s a loud yelp included with an electrical noise that comes from the back of the refrigerator.  I’m not the first to hear it, we all did, I am however the first to see the fridge shaking convulsively. 

I make a light mention of this to the people who actually live here because I don’t know if this is a regular occurrence for them or not…turns out that it is not.  Good sign.

"Not the mama!"

And it shouldn’t be.  That damn refrigerator was shaking like it belonged on an old episode of “Dinosaurs”.  

For those that don't know about "Dinosaurs", shame on you.  It was a Jim Henson driven program in the 90’s about muppet/animatronic dinosaurs living like everyday humans.  Think “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” type muppet costumes, except they were “Dinosaurs”.

Anyways, they had a fridge in the kitchen that was full of live creatures and the fridge used to shake from time to time, especially when they opened it because well…they were...alive.

So with that being sad, you can imagine why it was big deal that this fridge was shaking in the kitchen.  Not that "normal" shaking fridges aren't something to pay attention to...but still.

Between the way it was shaking, the noise, and the electrical shock that was heard, I've determined that Ratatouille is a beast.  But we don’t know him as Ratatouille yet…we just think there may be a dead mouse behind the fridge.  The guys and I decide to retrieve/catch/kill this critter before he does any more damage. 

The key here: isolation. 

I tell them we need to isolate the rat before he makes a dash back to his safe zone (in this case, the kitchen cupboards).  Henori grabs the broom, Michael goes over to pull out the stove (which is beside the fridge) to trap him behind the fridge.  Nate promptly grabs an empty plastic container of what used to be rotting spinach….

Wait…what is that?

We all decide that Nate’s weapon is the most feasible device because it literally smells sooo bad that if we put the rat in there…he will in fact die the cruelest and yet, cleanest way possible.

Michael pulls out the stove.  Nothing happens.  This is where we went wrong, we let our guard down.  

We figure, okay, he must be dead, let’s move the fridge and grab him so he doesn’t start to stink.  We pull the fridge out a little bit and that's when Ratatouille did his best Barry Sanders impression.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0TflnHlQMt8

Ratatouille is dashing all over the place, Nate comes nowhere near him with the spinach container but the rest of us are on our way to passing out, so if clearing the kitchen was the plan, Nate was successful.  Henori then makes contact and smashes the super-rat with the broom, I mean actual contact with the rat.…the broom breaks into 2 pieces and Ratatouille scampers back behind the cabinets…he’s elusive.

We examine the broom stick.  Henori is very confused by what just happened.  “I hit him”, he proclaims.  We all know.  We saw it.  We just don’t believe it.

Ratatouille retires.  For the evening.  Fast forward 2 days. 

Jackie is having a friend over for dinner.  We made stir fry (she made stir fry and I ate it, so that was my contribution, I didn't actually MAKE anything I just like to be included), it’s just the three of us in the house.  

I let them have their catch up time and girl talk sitting at the bar in the kitchen.  I went and placed myself on the computer in the living room in plain view of them both. 

We’re all sitting around minding our own business basically.  When we hear a snap…I look over and a black substance (substance…FUR)…is propelling from the roof at an incredible speed.  It’s over in two seconds.

Thump.  Cue the girls high pitched screams…white girl's with their knees high running in one place and their arms fluttering like wings has to be the best "defense" ever for something startling right???

We see another head up in the hole in the roof, the girls freak out and we go into Jackie’s bedroom before we can all come to terms with what has just happened. 

They think it’s an even bigger rat up on the roof.  Logic sets in and I decide that it had to be one of the cats chasing around “super rat”.

The cat must have been chasing him and “super rat” ran onto the screen in the sky window.  He’s a fat one so he fell through, or, he strategically placed himself there and carefully lowered himself down from danger like Tom Cruise in “Mission Impossible”.  The verdict is still out on this one.

It literally came within 6 inches of being either on Jackie’s head or down her dress…so I can understand the freak out.  It was good two story drop, at least 20 feet. 

Ratatouille.  Nowhere to be found.  Gone.  Only thing left in the sky window was the disgruntled face of the hungry kitty cat.  He’s a badass I tell you.   I woke up the next day and he had gotten into my bread…after a fall like that, I can only imagine.  He worked up quite the appetite escaping cats from the night before.  

The bites out of these pieces of bread were the size of a small toddler…multiple pieces, five.  All in the same spot too, like he bit straight through five pieces.  It's like in "Anchorman" when Baxter eats the entire wheel of cheese, Ron responds, "How'd you do that?  I'm not even mad, that's amazing."  

That's kind of how I felt.  He runs the house now,  he’s a monster.

Okay, probably NOT what he looks like...but you can imagine

B.O.B. Pt.2 - "Tenacious" Gary and the "Prick of Destiny"

Best of Billabong Series, Pt. 2

(some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty, some of them haven’t been changed at all…because…well, it’s just funnier that way)

The following is a collection of mini-stories from my time in the hostel in Sydney that I find humorous.  I will be posting a few short stories sporadically throughout the rest of my time with this travel blog.  They are just meant as fun anecdotes, mostly dealing with others misfortune, instead of the long detailed (and entertaining dammit!) stories that I usually produce about myself.  

These are by no means the BEST things or stories that EVER happened under the roof of the Billabong, they are just some stories that were appropriate enough for print that I happened to be around for.

If you know anything about "Tenacious D" then you'll understand the title of my next Gary "The LEGEND" Dolan story.  For those who don't follow my blog much, I have a previous story about Gary you may be interested in, here's the link: http://thatlowdown.blogspot.com/2012/11/best-of-billabong-pt1-one-where-rachel.html

Applicably changed from their self-titled movie, "Pick of Destiny" to "Prick of Destiny" because I'm super creative and they sometimes use "prick" as a synonym for "dick" in Australia.

So this is a story about Gary's penis.  Again.  Minus the urine.  Well, there could have been urine but I didn't actual see the following events take place.  Just for funsies, let's do this like an episode of "24".

(On a side note: Could there be a DUMBER premise for a TV show???  Seriously.  Your day CANNOT BE THAT BAD.  From the moment Jack Bauer wakes up to the moment that I assume he sleeps (even though there are no episodes about that little ditty), he literally flies all over the world, stopping bombs, saving presidents, rescuing kidnapped children, etc.  Whatever.  It's crap.  

The show is supposed to be in real time right?  So you're telling me that an entire season of "24" is one week or day of this mans unfortunate life?  Oh, and by the way...there's NO WAY that he would be able to get to all of those places in time to do all of those things...there's not enough time in the day Jack, it takes time to fly places...time that you NEVER seem to have a lot of...impossible.

I apologize to all "24" enthusiasts about my rant...because I have in fact never watched an episode.  Not one.  I heard the premise of it long ago and decided that I would never be able to get through an episode and would most likely rip it to shreds if I ever saw it, it could be entertaining and maybe Jack Bauer is a bad-ass but it's the principle of the whole thing...actually, I don't apologize, that show is stupid.)

Anyways,  instead of having Jack Bauer flying around the place and solve 47 crimes in "one day"....this takes place in ACTUAL REAL TIME and Gary Dolan (who is a bad-ass) probably barely remembers any of it... 

The following event takes place between the hours of 2:00-3:00AM
(be-beep)
(be-beep)
(be-beep)

Blue towel, is my bunk on top...
Gary, is seen posted up in his cave of ill-repute

I'm laying down in Room #5, a girl named Lori and I are watching a movie in my bed.  Everyone else is present and asleep.  Except for Mr. Dolan.  It was another one of his infamous nights off that he took full advantage of and no one had seen him all day.

If you know anything about hostel-movie-computer watching...the movies are on your laptop and unless you have a splitting device with two sets of headphones, you're generally sharing one each...semi-important fact.

It's important because while you hear the movie, you also have an ear to the room, so you can hear everything going on.  Whether you want to or not.

The door bursts open and Gary stumbles in, making a mockery of the term silence.  The trash can gets tipped over and Gary laughs with all the Irish glee he can muster.  I look over at him and notice a girl has since followed him into the room.  I look at Lori, she sighs, we attempt to pay no attention to them and put our focus back on the movie...we know what's coming...or...who's about to be cumming at least...

Gary and our random contestant of love have fumbled around towards finally finding Gary's bed and he puts up a sheet so they can have some "privacy".  Which is a nonexistent piece of 6-person hostel dorm.  The sheet of delight for Gary and his mistress...the sheet of despair for the rest of the room.

I give a quick look over to Joe "Sad Clown" Taylor who sleeps atop Gary's bunk.  He is awake and casually reading a book.  He looks back at me, smiles and shakes his head...attempting to pretend that the book was interesting enough to ignore what was about to happen beneath him.

It started out slowly.  There was some light smacking/kissing noises, a couple of moans and very little disturbance.

Then....it was ON LIKE DONKEY KONG baby!

At some point during the light kissing and gentle fondling, they stopped caring that people were in the room completely...it was night and day...she was moaning MUCH louder, dirty talk was floating about ever so often, there was even a little ass-spanking action and the bed was squeaking...and shaking fairly violently.  Gary....was gettin' it in...and doing a damn fine job it seemed.

Lori and I are giggling because we are in a direct view of Joe on top of this...poor Joe...sitting on top of his bed, minding his own business when the "Irish Earthquake" hit...he didn't know what to do.

Not the same time...but a similar reaction face

I'll never forget the look on his face as he sat up and put his arms up in defeat.  As if to say, "Where do I go from here?"  He had given up hope on the book and with good reason, he couldn't even hold the thing straight anymore...there was nothing he could do.

The mystery girl wasn't the only one at Gary's mercy on this night.

Joe was shaking his head and mouthing the words, "What do I do?".  He later disclosed to me his train-of-thought on the matter and what he was confused about.

He told me that he wasn't sure if he should get down from the bed and go outside, or maybe just get off the bed all together until they finished, or just sit there and ride it out.  He chose to ride it out.  He's a team player.

Everyone is obviously awake at this point.  I can clearly see Phil and Joe on top.  Biman and Rachel have yet to say anything but it's too loud to go unnoticed.

What happened next though, no one could have predicted.  I actually thought that I might bust a blood vessel from laughter.

In no way am I giving this justice on the matter because you would have had to been there to understand the timing...the timing was what brought it all together.  It was impeccable.  It was like a movie orchestra for the climax.

AS SOON AS THEY WERE FINISHED...I mean, the exact SECOND that the bed stopped and it was over....

The room didn't even have a chance to go silent because all you could hear is, "I wanna fuck you....softly....I'm gonna screw you gently....I'm gonna hump you, sweetly...I'm gonna ball you discreetly!"

Biman had queued up his computer to play Tenacious D's "F*** her gently" song as SOON as it was over!  It was classic!

I keep getting slapped by Lori because she's still trying to be discrete on the matter but I can't contain myself I'm laughing so hard that I almost fell off the top bunk.  Everyone is in on it now, having a laugh...even Gary stuck his head out from his sheet of delight to survey the room...he quickly rescinded back in though, possibly to console the embarrassed naked girl in his bed.

Biman allowed the whole song to play though and as good roommates tend to do in these delicate situations...after the ballad was over...like any good show, we gave Gary and his mystery lady a long, well-deserved, slow clap.

"Way to go Gary!", we exclaimed.  "Way to be, you're a champion".

The following event takes place between the hours of 3:00-4:00AM
(be-beep)
(be-beep)
(be-beep)

Things calmed down after that.  I finally stopped crying from laughter and everyone went back to bed. Lori and I finished the movie, during a less vigorous but definitive round two performance.  Which made Lori and I decided to take our leave back to her room...so we could avoid any possible round threes to be had.

We grabbed a bite to eat in the kitchen and happened to catch good ol' Gary having his post-celebratory-coitus cigarette in the hall.  He was still quite drunk and not in the best of moods about Biman's symphony.

I'm not sure if Gary ever actually, "Got him back" as he claimed he would.  I am unaware of any other round threes or any continued fraternization with the girl.  We never saw her.  The next morning, she left...in a hurry.  I saw the top of her head as she was scooting out the door.

What I do know is that is something that neither one of them will forget, and even if they really wanted to, especially Gary; and thanks to this blog, no one else will either.

You "Shark Pit", Me "Vana"

"Downtown" Lahaina

Jackie lives in the west side of Maui in a small town named Lahanai.  Front Street is the main road in the town, a 2 minute walk to the downtown area (if you can call it that) and an even shorter trip to the beach (right across the road).  I’d have to say it seems as if she’s hit the jackpot in location.

I woke up early Saturday morning to go for a run.  As I like to do when I’m in a new area and get acclimated to my surroundings.  Not as early as Jackie though, she’s a bit of an early bird.  Jackie and her boyfriend wanted to go surfing on the north shore.

I wasn't too interested in that prospect for a few reasons.  I hadn't gotten very good sleep in the past 2 nights because of Halloween and camping out (which wasn't bad but when that sun comes up you’re like an egg, boiling in your own tent).  So I wanted to get a good nights rest under a roof, on a reasonably comfortable surface (her couch).

I ran around the town and checked everything out.  It’s more of a village really.  I’m beginning to think that Maui is more for couples on retreat and honeymooners with the clientele that I kept passing.  Which is cool, couples are people too I guess....  

I tried to make it back around lunchtime to meet Jackie for lunch but she wasn't back yet.  So I grabbed my towel and my book and went straight to the beach.  Right in front of Jackie’s house is the most quite spot I've ever seen on a plateau including sand and water.  Nobody goes there.  I was laying out for at least two or three hours with maybe three other people stretched along the sand.  The same three or four people everyday.  It's like some sort of secret cove for the locals.  

There were possibly 20 people walking at different times all together and that was mainly dog walkers.  It was really peaceful and nice. 

I stayed for a little bit, working on my boss tanline and it just so happened that I ran into Jackie on the path back to her house, she was coming to find me and also to check the waves.  If I had to guess, more the latter than the former, you know how those surfers are about their waves.

She decided the waves were good enough to give it a go, so we went back and grabbed the long-boards.

I can only surf on long-boards, as my past surfing adventures have described.  So I was excited to get out there.  FINALLY something I would succeed at!  I've only had short-boards and devastation (because of all the falling) available to me in the past few months, so it was nice to have a chance to finally do some proper surfing.

TANLINE!

Then I started talking to Jackie.  She began to give me the tips and tricks of surfing out in front of her house, affectionately named the “Shark Pit”.  Great….

That’s where every surfer in his beginning stages of expertise wants to be right?  The f’n "Shark Pit"…

She also asks me how I feel about surfing in shallow water over coral.

You want me to do what with who?

I know people surf over coral, from what I understand those are some of the best spots to do it.  But shallow water…over coral?  In a habitat sanctuary for sharks?  Why?  Why would you want to do that?  Ever?

I had every chance to back out of it, so I can’t exactly blame Jackie (although I like to try).  She was just too excited to notice that I wasn’t really comfortable with the situation.  She really loves surfing out there and I didn’t want to let her down, so I went anyways, against my better judgement...like I ALWAYS do.

She did ask me how I felt about surfing out there, I told her that it was “questionable”, when what I should have said was…”absolutely not, no way, no how!” to quote a certain guardsman in the land of OZ.

I heard “questionable” as…”maybe this is a bad idea and you should take me to a place without shallow coral”….Jackie heard “questionable” as, “Yea let’s go!”.

We were obviously not on the same page.  She started telling me about all the things you HAVE TO DO to stay safe surfing in “Shark Pit”.  All I’m thinking is, “Dude, I’ve stood up on a board like 8 times…PERIOD.  This is going to suck."

And it did.  It SOOOOO did. 

Paddling out was easy enough, until we got to the pit itself and since the water in Hawaii is clear to the bottom I could see absolutely everything that had a chance of ending me in that water.  

I'm grown accustomed to my skin and my bones for that matter...I generally like to keep them as is, intact and away from areas such as these.  There was nowhere to go, no safe zones.  All the things Jackie told me to do immediately became obsolete because I decided she was just full of shit.

But I already came out, so I figured as long as I got up, it couldn’t be too bad.  I just couldn’t fall.  Easy enough right?

Yet another thing you don’t want to consider when just starting out.  I’ve been surfing in different countries true, the total of those surfing expeditions: 5; 

successful surfing expeditions (as in, times I’ve went out and stood up and had a decent time instead of the waves just kicking my head in): 2.  

Stats aren’t looking too good for me in the ol’”Shark Pit”.

I was screwed…and I knew it too but it was like a moth to a flame and too late to put my tail between my legs. 

I finally decided to just try it.  I got a wave and stood up.  I’m really excited about this because I don’t think I’ve ever stood up on my very first try but that excitement immediately rots into fear and panic because as I’m looking at water, as I noticed before, there was NOWHERE to go. 

There was nowhere to get off the board and be safe, it was ALL coral reef.  I panicked and jumped off into a spot that I thought looked deeper than the others.  What I found out at the bottom was the reason it looked deeper was because it was inhabited by a bunch of black Sea Urchins.

So that's how I got Vana.  Which is Hawaiian Sea Urchin’s semi-poisonous spikes that get lodged in your foot like little shards of glass.  

It's like Poseidon decided to be "Jigsaw" from the "Saw" movies came to me in the water and said in that creepy voice, "Hello Adam, I want to play a game".  

My choices were as follows: jump off the board and get struck in the foot, jump off the board and crack your head open, or jump off the board and break an appendage.

I think I chose the lesser of the three evils, doesn't make Jigsaw any less of a jerk.

I was getting tossed around by the rest of the set of waves, with nowhere to go…AGAIN. All I can think about is how bad this sucks and how mad I am at myself because I knew it was going to suck and I still did it.  I never follow my gut feeling on these things and I always get burned…or stung…or pinched…or something dumb that I could have easily avoided, like f***** Vana!

The worst part was that I went in too far (which was also another one of Jackie's precarious warnings).  So then I got stuck on the reef.  Literally stuck because I was trying to paddle out of the way to safety (out of the water really) and the board kept getting marooned on top of the coral and then wave after wave kept to coming to finish me off. 

I finally made my way out of it.  Luckily there weren't any other surfers around because it could have been even worse...for them, I felt like a fat seal on my way to a shark's mouth.  I probably looked like a fat seal at least...thrashing about on top of my board desperately trying to get off the coral reef.  I then proceeded to find the channel of calm water and pick out the spikes (8-12) sticking out of my right foot. 

Honolua Bay, NOT where I was surfing

I went to talk to Jackie and I told her I was done.  After one wave, wooohoooo, Kelly Slater eat your heart out!

I left her to grab some more waves and I went to the beach to check out my newest foot injury.  Over half the days I’ve been in Hawaii something bad or painful has happened to my feet....Jackie Dressler is responsible for two of those injuries (as I like to affectionately remind her).

She told me that I should move here and get a job so I think she is secretly sabotaging my vacation.  I mean, between the hiking barefoot and stabbing me with coral, she’s a crafty lass!  

Surfers lined up from all over for Honolua

If I can’t walk, I can’t leave so I have to stay right?  I think that’s her plan, but I’m on to her!!!

I hobbled my way back to her house which as I stated earlier is not very far, so I considered that lucky.  All of the spikes were located in my toes, all of the toes of my right foot but at least it wasn’t the bottom of the foot. 

It's not a constant pain, only every time you step on it...aka walk...so it can be constant because I've heard that walking is occasionally important.  I could at least manage if I held my toes up.

We got back and told her roommates what happened.  I immediately grabbed a glass and start drinking whiskey because somewhere in my man DNA my brain registered that is the protocol when dealing with an injury.

Or maybe I’ve seen too many westerns and war movies.  All I know is, you drink whiskey, things get better, or at least, more numb which in my book translates to better.

While having a drink on the porch with the roommates and making plans for the evening, one of Jackie’s roommate’s friends stopped by.  He too, was named Adam and had been living there for a long time.  He explained everything to me a little better so I knew what I was dealing with.  As most "Adam's" as I'm sure you know, are geniuses.

I had never heard of Vana, so I was obviously concerned with my foot for the near and foreseeable future.  Not that I thought it was going to that serious to the point of amputation or something but I was worried about being able to walk around comfortably and go running in the near future.

Adam turned out to be a medicine man of sorts.  He hopped on his bike and went back to his house and grabbed me a mixture of vinegar's that were a good remedy to soak the Vana in.  He told me I should have peed on it, but A) I didn’t have to pee when it happened and B) the idea of peeing on the bottom of my foot from the top of a surf board seemed a bit silly...and borderline impossible.

The idea of the vinegar is it is supposed to break up and dissolve the urchin shards it into my bloodstream quicker (sounds like a fun picnic, doesn't it?).  He also gave me a dry form of Neosporin that I have forgotten the name of, so that I could heal the other wounds on my foot.  He had other herbal remedy goodies too, but I didn’t BUY any of them…

Staff infection is also big in Hawaii, Adam knew it all really (I think that name brings certain amount of wisdom to the world).  He even knew that the holes on the side of my feet were from brand new Rainbows without me even saying a word.  He has been living the beach life well, I thanked him for his help and his council.  He was the best "doctor" I dealt with on Maui...and I actually had to go to the hospital and deal with "actual doctors" one night (story to come, Manic Maui Moment).  

That cut out a good portion of my planned activities for the next few days until my foot got a chance to heal.  So it’s a good thing that I had my whiskey on standby! (It usually is)

It kept me out of action for about a week.  Then I got a chance to get back out there.  Not at "Shark Pit" but at another spot called "Break Wall" (guess what they have there?...a rock wall of course that can also be hazardous...).

I was still a little hesitant but I really want to get better at surfing so I had to go.  On the way out Jackie was giving me more tips about the "Break Wall".  On this trip in the late afternoon, I had no problems what so ever....for ONCE!

Nasty Nate & I, whale watching

I surfed a few waves and didn't get my ass kicked at all!  It was great.  I figured out the key to surfing with the coral that day.  I had seen others do it but I didn't believe I had the balance to succeed in such a feat.  The key is to get up on the board, ride a little on the wave, and then lay back down on the board...don't jump off or ride in too far.  Just ride enough to have some fun and then casually lay back down the way you got up and cruise off of the wave before you get too far in.


I was able to do this thanks to the paddle board lessons I received from Jackie's roommate Nate a few days before.  It really helped me with my balance on the water, so things came naturally and I can't wait to get back out there again....preferably with as little Vana as humanly possible but at least I know what to do now.