Day 3 dawned upon us in all its pristine glory with an organized calm. The entire day was planned way - way in advance, so there were no options for me supposedly twisting the proceedings with my mammoth lethargy. Truth be told I was pretty excited myself. First order of day, checking in at the Pacific whale Foundation for a 6 hr snorkeling cruise, a continental breakfast and a la - carte lunch to follow. As it turns out the elements were pissed with my aforementioned state of excitement and had retorted to hitting the harbor (on which I was standing waiting for a catamaran to haul me to sea) with gale force winds. But this wrath of nature was a mere breeze as compared to the hell I was paying for supposedly forgetting our camera battery. Missez is nothing less than a hurricane when she is pissed and from plenty of first hand experiences I have learned not to retort to any sort of cheap defense in such circumstances. So I gave up my futile argument and scurried along the nearby touristy shops to look for the non-existent battery.
Finally my karma argument - which basically boils down to - past is over lets not linger on to it,lets live in the moment forgetting all my past faux pas, payed off, with a mighty boost from the launch of the catamaran with us as passengers. We headed out into the choppy seas, with the winds showing no signs of giving up at this point of time. Breakfast was quickly gobbled with the customary sea safety speech being announced in the background. Soon enough we were slowing down literally in the middle of the ocean to everyones surprise and the captain of the boat chimed in that a mighty humpback whale had been sighted in our vicinity. The captain was speaking in his sea lingo with port , starboard and various clock positions of 3 O'clock, 6 O'clock peppered in just for fun. I was flabbergasted. I had no idea which side to look, or was I instead supposed to look at the watch, that I was (not) wearing. Missez slid in with a piece of her mind and then on I followed her lead in the directions of vision. A little info flash here. Winter is humpback whale season in Hawaii and the surrounding sea. They, the whales, apparently swim the distance of nearly 3500 miles from their feeding grounds in Alaska to Hawaii, and specifically to Maui, for its warm and shallow sea. Back to the story, initially it was a little hard for us to locate them in the vast blue, but the signature whale breath fountain made it easier. And from then on I was a self proclaimed pro at spotting these majestic creatures. We slowed down and stopped many a times for these whale watching jaunts before we reached the island of Lanaii and to a cozy little creek where we were supposed to snorkel.For the ignorant Snorkel is a fancy name for swimming at or just below the surface of water while breathing with the help of a tube sticking out for air and apparently enjoying the underwater natural beauty. After a crash course in snorkeling on the boat deck, we were all suited up. The suit basically consists of a face mask and humongus set of fins for the feet. The clothing in between these two is apparently optional. But to my disappointment there were no exceptions.
The first touch of water was cold. Missez had already taken appropriate precaution by opting for a wet suit and was nimbly swimming like a fish in water. Me, thats a different story altogether, when I finally let go of the boat straightaway ducked under water quick and fast gulping copious amount of salt water. Apparently the snorkel crash course had been utter bullshit because it didn't include any directions on how to put on this god forsaken snorkel mask. A wobbling and thoroughly salted me emerged, thanks to the gallons of salt that I had absorbed from the water. The missez was thoroughly scared of my misadventures and was promptly by my side to inform me that I couldn't possibly sink because I had a floating apparatus around my body. Nervous calmed, I finally started enjoying the snorkeling experience. On later intelligent analysis I discovered that this show of shame and embarrassment on my part was partly the fault of my inability to breath with my mouth rather than my nose and mostly the fault of everybody else in general. But I digress. In fact I started to enjoy it so much that, much to the dismay of a shivering missez, I went back a second time after lunch and this time consistently kept my nose underwater admiring the beautiful corals and rainbow colored fishes in the process. Mucho fun indeed.
The return leg of the cruise was sombre with me admiring the sun kissed deep blue expanse and acting all zen-like while a school of dolphins performed their much adored skimming jump out of the water for us.I was given another slap on my head for forgetting the camera battery which prevented us from capturing the breathtaking beauty all around us for eternity. Further rounds of stops and slow downs for the whales followed before we were back on terra firma.
The next 45 minutes are a blur, at the end of which I was magically standing in a line for the entry into the Luau. The only thing that I faintly remember from the blur is the part where the missez transformed from a homeless on the street to a Greek goddess in under 10 minutes. That must be some sort of a world record or something. Info flash time again. Luau is a typically Hawaiian custom of partying like their is no tomorrow. Highlights being the unveiling of the ceremonial Kalua Pig which is later hogged down and various Hula's or dance performances. This I assume is the commercial form of the Luau. I have no idea how a non-commercial one pans out. So the Luau started with a typically Hawaiian welcome custom of tropical garlands (which for us non privileged ones were made of small sea shells) and a local drink called Mai Tai. While we were settling down the aforementioned Kalua Pig was unveiled from its cooking place which is under ground and taken for a round around the house. I have pictures to prove that it was totally gross. Ewwww....I just want to eat it...I don't want to look at it while its being cooked. I promptly washed down this ghastly vision with the remaining Mai Tai and ordered another one. But before we could get any comfy, the dinner was served and I attacked the food with a renewed vigour. Little shreds of Kalua Pig, local fish Mahi Mahi, local fried rice, a purple bread and delicious slices of pineapples were consumed in huge quantities. And just as I was settling down with an overflowing dish of dessert(s), the actual show per se started. What followed was a sequence of dances from all the Polynesian communities of the pacific starting with New Zealand, Tonga, Haiti and ending with Hawaii. The dances were performed by scantily clad hunks and babes and were a real treat for both the visual and aural senses. This was one of the be-their-to-experience kind of thing. The fire dance in the dying moments of the performance deserves a special mention, drawing ooohs and aaahs from the crowd and yours faithfully.
To be true, I was a little skeptical about this Luau thing to start with, but the Missez prevailed and we booked. Now in the light of experience it looks like a fine decision and really an experience to cherish. I redemmed myself by grabbing the aformentioned camera batteries during the blur and have loads of pictures to show from this colourful evening feast.
It was lights out Day 3. The photo count, although massively depleted courtesy the prior screw up, still stood at 310.
Finally my karma argument - which basically boils down to - past is over lets not linger on to it,lets live in the moment forgetting all my past faux pas, payed off, with a mighty boost from the launch of the catamaran with us as passengers. We headed out into the choppy seas, with the winds showing no signs of giving up at this point of time. Breakfast was quickly gobbled with the customary sea safety speech being announced in the background. Soon enough we were slowing down literally in the middle of the ocean to everyones surprise and the captain of the boat chimed in that a mighty humpback whale had been sighted in our vicinity. The captain was speaking in his sea lingo with port , starboard and various clock positions of 3 O'clock, 6 O'clock peppered in just for fun. I was flabbergasted. I had no idea which side to look, or was I instead supposed to look at the watch, that I was (not) wearing. Missez slid in with a piece of her mind and then on I followed her lead in the directions of vision. A little info flash here. Winter is humpback whale season in Hawaii and the surrounding sea. They, the whales, apparently swim the distance of nearly 3500 miles from their feeding grounds in Alaska to Hawaii, and specifically to Maui, for its warm and shallow sea. Back to the story, initially it was a little hard for us to locate them in the vast blue, but the signature whale breath fountain made it easier. And from then on I was a self proclaimed pro at spotting these majestic creatures. We slowed down and stopped many a times for these whale watching jaunts before we reached the island of Lanaii and to a cozy little creek where we were supposed to snorkel.For the ignorant Snorkel is a fancy name for swimming at or just below the surface of water while breathing with the help of a tube sticking out for air and apparently enjoying the underwater natural beauty. After a crash course in snorkeling on the boat deck, we were all suited up. The suit basically consists of a face mask and humongus set of fins for the feet. The clothing in between these two is apparently optional. But to my disappointment there were no exceptions.
The first touch of water was cold. Missez had already taken appropriate precaution by opting for a wet suit and was nimbly swimming like a fish in water. Me, thats a different story altogether, when I finally let go of the boat straightaway ducked under water quick and fast gulping copious amount of salt water. Apparently the snorkel crash course had been utter bullshit because it didn't include any directions on how to put on this god forsaken snorkel mask. A wobbling and thoroughly salted me emerged, thanks to the gallons of salt that I had absorbed from the water. The missez was thoroughly scared of my misadventures and was promptly by my side to inform me that I couldn't possibly sink because I had a floating apparatus around my body. Nervous calmed, I finally started enjoying the snorkeling experience. On later intelligent analysis I discovered that this show of shame and embarrassment on my part was partly the fault of my inability to breath with my mouth rather than my nose and mostly the fault of everybody else in general. But I digress. In fact I started to enjoy it so much that, much to the dismay of a shivering missez, I went back a second time after lunch and this time consistently kept my nose underwater admiring the beautiful corals and rainbow colored fishes in the process. Mucho fun indeed.
The return leg of the cruise was sombre with me admiring the sun kissed deep blue expanse and acting all zen-like while a school of dolphins performed their much adored skimming jump out of the water for us.I was given another slap on my head for forgetting the camera battery which prevented us from capturing the breathtaking beauty all around us for eternity. Further rounds of stops and slow downs for the whales followed before we were back on terra firma.
The next 45 minutes are a blur, at the end of which I was magically standing in a line for the entry into the Luau. The only thing that I faintly remember from the blur is the part where the missez transformed from a homeless on the street to a Greek goddess in under 10 minutes. That must be some sort of a world record or something. Info flash time again. Luau is a typically Hawaiian custom of partying like their is no tomorrow. Highlights being the unveiling of the ceremonial Kalua Pig which is later hogged down and various Hula's or dance performances. This I assume is the commercial form of the Luau. I have no idea how a non-commercial one pans out. So the Luau started with a typically Hawaiian welcome custom of tropical garlands (which for us non privileged ones were made of small sea shells) and a local drink called Mai Tai. While we were settling down the aforementioned Kalua Pig was unveiled from its cooking place which is under ground and taken for a round around the house. I have pictures to prove that it was totally gross. Ewwww....I just want to eat it...I don't want to look at it while its being cooked. I promptly washed down this ghastly vision with the remaining Mai Tai and ordered another one. But before we could get any comfy, the dinner was served and I attacked the food with a renewed vigour. Little shreds of Kalua Pig, local fish Mahi Mahi, local fried rice, a purple bread and delicious slices of pineapples were consumed in huge quantities. And just as I was settling down with an overflowing dish of dessert(s), the actual show per se started. What followed was a sequence of dances from all the Polynesian communities of the pacific starting with New Zealand, Tonga, Haiti and ending with Hawaii. The dances were performed by scantily clad hunks and babes and were a real treat for both the visual and aural senses. This was one of the be-their-to-experience kind of thing. The fire dance in the dying moments of the performance deserves a special mention, drawing ooohs and aaahs from the crowd and yours faithfully.
To be true, I was a little skeptical about this Luau thing to start with, but the Missez prevailed and we booked. Now in the light of experience it looks like a fine decision and really an experience to cherish. I redemmed myself by grabbing the aformentioned camera batteries during the blur and have loads of pictures to show from this colourful evening feast.
It was lights out Day 3. The photo count, although massively depleted courtesy the prior screw up, still stood at 310.
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