Sailing Vessel Beruta Ship's Log
Maui - Oahu
Thursday, February 20, 2025
Traveling around Maui was limited by distance. I managed to bike to Wailuku in an hour. It's a town on the northern side of the island. There, I was advised to visit the Wailuku Heights and the Iao Valley. Interestingly, I reached these two places purely by intuition. I only remembered the recommendations when I was already there — a pleasant coincidence! First, I climbed the Wailuku Heights. I couldn't make it to the very top — the area was closed because it housed a water intake facility. But the views from 450 meters up were still worth the climb. Plus, I tried a new berry — the strawberry guava — quite edible and pleasant in taste!
The Iao Valley is near the Wailuku Heights. The main attraction there is the Iao Needle, a rock left after the ridge's destruction, which the local natives used as a lookout point. But the valley itself, or rather the gorge, is also picturesque. Additionally, several natural pools formed in the mountain stream are refreshing after the challenging cycling climb.
One day before my departure, I ventured onto the Lahaina Pali Trail, which runs from Maalaea to Lahaina over a 450-meter-high ridge where wind turbines are installed. Then I biked to Safeway, also in about an hour. Along the way, I strolled along the wooden boardwalks of the Kealia Pond Bird Sanctuary.
I was actually trying to get a permission to dock at the Ala Wai Marina in Honolulu on Oahu. It's the same state marina where I had stayed in Honokohau and here in Maalaea. But in Honolulu, the bureaucrats insisted that their marina be explicitly listed in the insurance policy. They said it's a standard procedure that insurance companies usually handle in a day, but my Canadian company took three days.
I was already being kicked out of the marina on February 20. I had applied for a week and then asked for a couple of extra days. But all deadlines had passed, and someone else was already claiming my spot. I was told to leave the slip by noon. And still, no insurance. When I complained that I didn't know where to go, they allowed me to stay another day at slip 18. But it was shallow and run-down. There was only one rusty cleat, car tires hung along the walls (meaning I'd have to spend days cleaning rubber marks off the hull with alcohol), and the dock had holes you could easily fall through. I'd rather look for an anchorage than dock there!
But around 11 a.m., I received the insurance. I called the Ala Wai Marina, and they assigned me to slip 92, though they couldn't explain exactly where it was or if the number 92 was visible from the water. Such a friendly attitude toward sailors, especially foreign guests!
I had been warned about this attitude, but for some reason, I didn't believe it. I thought people were exaggerating. The Big Island was the friendliest, especially Hilo, though even that had its challenges. The closer I got to the capital of the Hawaiian Islands, Honolulu, the worse the situation became. Although the neighboring boat owners were quite hospitable.
Anyway, at noon, I left Maalaea. Just before departure, I had to drop off some unexpected stowaways. A sparrow had managed to build a nest in the fold of the mainsail in a week and laid six eggs!
It was 85 miles to Honolulu. Another sleepless night awaited. The wind was initially head-on, not strong, then shifted to a brief reach on a port tack. As soon as I passed Maui, the tack changed. A 25-knot wind blew from starboard. There was no point in continuing under engine, so I raised the double-reefed mainsail. The speed started at 4-5 knots but later picked up to 5.5. From 4:30 to 10 p.m., I sailed. However, as I approached Molokai, the wind died down, and I had to motor the rest of the way to Oahu, with the mainsail assisting.
Friday, February 21, 2025
The Hawaiian Islands are home to a humpback whale sanctuary. They come here to breed from Alaska. January to March is when the waters are teeming with whales. The main tourist attraction is a boat tour to see these marine giants and their offspring. Dozens of boats depart from marinas several times a day — it's serious business for local boat owners.
In short, you need to keep a sharp eye out. The water churns, fountains spray, and multi-ton bodies leap out of the water to the delight of spectators. How they avoid collisions with vessels at night is an open question. Well, I guess they hear the engine rumble and react in time. But what if I'm sailing?
Besides whales, there are tugboats pulling barges! Three passed in one direction overnight, and one in the other. The main thing, as you know, is not to get caught between the tug and the barge!
Anyway, I reached Honolulu by 5:30 a.m. Sunrise was at 7. There was no point in entering an unfamiliar marina in the dark, not knowing where my slip was. I had to circle the entrance for a while. While circling, I was almost run over by a motorboat that either didn't see me or didn't know the rules of navigation at sea. I was on its starboard side. If I hadn't turned away, it would have hit me. At 7 a.m., I entered the Ala Wai Marina. At the entrance, I was surprised by surfers. They had already taken their spots on this side of the break, planning to catch some waves before work, I guess? Or maybe the prime spots need to be claimed early in the morning?
As I suspected, slip numbers are only visible from a shore, not from the water! Clearly, the focus is on tourists. Boat owners, of course, know where their slip is. Okay. I docked at the last available slip. There was 0.3 meters under the keel, and the tide was just starting to ebb. Here, the tide usually drops by two feet, so the depth wasn't suitable. I thought I'd go look for my slip. But I couldn't leave the dock — there was a gate, locked! I asked passersby to tell me what was written there. They said 78. When I asked where 92 was, they waved to the right. But there were no more slips there! I asked another passerby going left where slip 92 was. He probably thought I was messing with him! Anyway, I had no choice, so I took out my boarding ladder, hung it on the gate, and climbed over. And right next to the gate were about a dozen police cars! They had some event in the morning — someone was chanting, and a crowd, either crazy believers or equally crazy athletes, responded ten times louder. I was in shock, thinking that if this happened every morning at 7, I'd soon join their ranks.
Slip 92 was on the other side and was occupied! The marina office had just opened but wasn't officially operational yet. The excuse was that if you didn't make it in time, you were out of luck. Since I called yesterday and didn't show up, what was there to complain about? They told me to come back in half an hour when the harbormaster would be there. I climbed over the gate a second time. Then a third time when I went back to the office. The harbormaster said slip 92 had been assigned to someone else a week ago! Total mess! Then I climbed over the gate a fourth time when they didn't give me the keys! They said, "Why do you need them if you're not staying there?" Well, hello there! Anyway, they offered another slip — or rather, not a slip but a mooring on the opposite side of the marina, right at the entrance. Fine with the mooring, at least it's farther from the street, closer to the sea, with cleaner and deeper water.
The free spot, 857, was between two yachts. But one yacht had three dinghies on my side, and the other had two! So five dinghies were taking up my spot! Well, the guys accommodated me and moved the dinghies, and even helped me stretch a mooring line from the mooring buoy to the dock. (I had to climb over the gate a couple more times to bring the lines.) Stretching the mooring line was their idea. Very convenient. When approaching, you just grab the line with a boat hook and toss it over the stern cleat. Then slowly pull the bow to the dock, jump off, and secure the bow lines.
Anyway, I climbed over the gate for the tenth time and moved the yacht to the mooring. That dock with the moorings has a gate, but fortunately, the locks are broken.
Yes, after such treatment, I feel like telling everyone to go to hell and never sail here again. It seems that's what the marina management is counting on — there are practically no free spots left.
All pictures from Oahu are on Google Photos.