Day 1: Feelin’ Salty

August 9, 2015

Peanut butter + jelly. Tortilla chips + guacamole. Beyonce + Jay-Z. Some things just go together. You know what doesn’t? Ocean water and contacts.

No no, I’m not stupid. I know well enough to not even slightly open my eyes while taking a shower when I have contacts on. But here, let me paint you a picture: Clear blue skies. Smooth sailing catamaran. Margaritas.

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Even better, I’ll show you the picture.

That doesn’t sound like a bad time, right? My thoughts exactly. And to prove just how perfect this evening was, I sat on the trampoline-like opening at the front of the catamaran. Ocean view? Count me in!


Once all the attendees arrived, everyone gathered to the lower deck for a short orientation on safety procedures and to cash in tickets to get one free drink. (Funny story, actually, I legit forgot that we were still in the U.S. and normally, this would be a good thing, except for the fact…well, two words: drinking age) Everyone dispersed from the bar to select front-view seats of the best sights in history (well, next to court side views of a Warriors game).


The catamaran set sail, and I took this opportunity to try and spot turtles and seals, as the sailors suggested. I didn’t spot any. And this was even before I got salt water in my eyes.

So instead of searching below the surface, I refocused my attention to the coast. Hawaii looked like a tropical New York. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. City life on a tropical island? Seems pretty questionable if ya ask me.


Pre-departure photo.

Ok, flash forward, and there we were, sitting on the top deck at the very front of the catamaran in the middle of the ocean. Everything was all sugar and spice until it hit me. Like, literally hit me. The catamaran began to bump waves, one after another, each time soaking the front passengers, me included. I reached for my backpack to retrieve my sunglasses, but my god, I was too blind to even find the right zipper.

Screw the sunglasses, I thought. I reached for my towel. Perfect! Three wave splashes later, and my towel was just as soaked as I was. Perfect. I gave up. You win, Mother Nature, you win.

This went on for a good 15 minutes, I estimated. (This is probably flawed timing, I’ll admit, but let’s just say 15 minutes for the sake of being blinded by saltwater.) By the time we had reached the port again, we were dried, and the weather was sunny again, leaving no trace of evidence for my traumatic experience.

But leave with no doubt, I will face you again, Hawaiian Currents. And next time, I’ll come prepared, contact-less.

La Ciega


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