We are sitting in our customary smoking spot, there is no smoking within 20 feet of a building on all the islands. Kicked back in lawn lounge chairs, under the palm trees, facing the ocean. We are getting ready to walk the beach. I'm reminded of my morning post which didn't make it onto the blog for some reason. It went something like this:
We slept in! Our days have been so sun drenched and wind blown that we fall into bed and sleep fast all night. We had breakfast at Stella Blue again. Dan; eggs, bacon, and potatoes. Me; tofu scramble with broccoli, mushrooms and tahani sauce. Folks have been snorkeling outside our room all week so we give it a go. The water is cool and refreshing and we are instantly awake. Underneath, the water is cloudy, I can see maybe 10 feet in front of me. I guess all the wind Kehei gets stirs the sand up. We see loads of small fish, 2 to 3 inches long. Some yellow with black racing stripes, some black with a white spot about the size of a dime on either side. I see 2 long fish, about 2 to 3 feet long, I think are eels. Dan says they are either Trumpet fish or Coronet fish. He pops out of the water elated, he was swimming in a school of 1000 small fish. Strolling down the beach we talk for about the 5th time this week about whether we should live here or Kauai. Maui is more expensive but has more job opportunites. Kauai has nicer people and a small town feel. Maybe a job at a nice resturant, where we can play in the water before heading into work. We see a young lady walking her dogs. One is a Pom, about the size of Lucy and the other is a Pit about the size of Baxter. She tells us of the horror that her Pom went through being quarenteened, the Pit she got here. Says Frontline keeps ticks and fleas off. She has been here for 3 years and is thinking she may have to move back in about 6 months. We have heard that a lot today, about how a lot of people are leaving. She has worked in 3 resturants that have gone out of business, the last because the owner died. As we walk back, we reconsider the resturant business, maybe we become certified in scuba and take tourists out. Tiffany and a lady who works in the gift shop at the Pacific Whale Foundation (she moved out here from Grand Junction before her house sold, almost going into forclousure) say they always need people to work the boats. We spy a crab, flat as a pancake in the black lava rocks. Crouching over it I wonder aloud if it is dead. Dan scares it, immediately it becomes vertical, as tall as it was flat and skitters off on it's tiptoes, taking our thoughts with it until the ocean swallows it up.
-- Post From My iPhone
