We started the day by heading to the large harbor to the north for our submarine ride. We were very early, and consequently had quite some time to wait around. This we spent watching the ocean and surmising on the possible presence of sharks (which my dad hates). When the guides arrived, they told us that they only saw a shark maybe once every month which set my dad at ease, but slightly disappointed me. We were soon on the short ferry ride over to our little submarine, and after a five minute ride, boarded the undersea craft.

Immediately when we got underwater, everything turned blue. As we dove deeper, this simply intensified, and at about 60 feet under we basically lost the color red. Throughout the entire trip, we were followed by many Sergeant Majors (a small black and white striped fish which apparently like submarines), and while down on the sea floor, we saw approximately seven species of fish by my count including surgeonfish, yellow tang, pufferfish, and at least one eel. These were all most common among the several shipwrecks we passed.

We eventually got down to 108 feet below the surface, which is apparently a depth which only 0.5% of humans ever experience. It is indeed rather odd-everything turns blue. I was, in fact, rather surprised that we could see much at all down there. There was considerable particulate matter in the water which created a haze and made it impossible to see much further out than 10 or 15 feet. When we surfaced, I found myself wishing that we could have stayed below for hours–this ride felt like only a small taste of the ocean, one I enjoyed quite a lot.

Back on shore, we made our way back to the submarine headquarters, where I found and purchased a small plush submarine called “subbie.” I was particularly drawn to subbie for two reasons: first, he has an entirely dopey expression and weird googly eyes, which, though subbie is an inanimate object, I find strangely endearing. Secondly, “subbie,” or more accurate, “subby,” is a term used in the forums of my favorite online news aggregator, Fark to refer to the submitters of articles. Subby can be either a term of endearment or a pejorative depending on the context, and in Fark, it is typically used to berate the submitter for a mistake in the headline, a weak joke, or simply an inane article. Couple this with the aforementioned dopey expression, and you begin to see how I was drawn to subbie.

We then drove up the coast to see if a seahorse farm we had heard of was open. Unfortunately it wasn’t, so we drove back to a picturesque lava beach where we had seen large waves breaking earlier. In exploring this beach, I found several fascinating little black crabs, which scurried across the rocks and seemed to battle each other before getting swamped by the incoming surf.

I also found a tiny little crab in a tiny shell, scuttling along a small crack in the lava which was half filled with water. He was a dark red with bright white bands across the legs, and each time we reached down to get a better look at him, he withdrew into the shell and wedged himself into a crack. Eventually, the tiny little crab disappeared deeper into the water, and we moved on to watching the waves crash in over the rocks. A small tide pool housed several small brown fishes of indeterminate type. After an hour or two of exploring this incredible beach, we left to look for our Luau.

We eventually found it, and went in to wait to be seated. Like nearly everything in Hawaii, the Luau was held outside. We watched a slightly kitschy Hawaiian/Jazzy band, then followed our hostess towards the cooking pits to watch the meat being extracted and prepared for our consumption. We soon got into line with large plates and were set loose on a buffet-style selection of Hawaiian fare. I can hardly describe the food except to say that it was delicious, though all agreed that the beef was exquisite.

The best and most interesting part of the night finally began when dinner was cleared away, and the dancers came out. The dancing seemed to alternate between very old traditional dances and the typical touristy style dances you might expect. Whereas the older dances seemed to have a very primal power and intensity, the more modern pieces appeared to be simply put on for the benefit of the tourists-the dancers didn’t seem to be as focused on those. It strikes me that this could describe the entirety of Hawaiian culture. There is a fundamental conflict between the traditional island culture and the culture that has been encroaching because of the rest of the world. I also note that this parallels the Island’s biological development. All I can really say is that I preferred the older dances, the traditional ones. They were eminently fascinating, and genuinely made me want to learn about the history of this culture.

The show ended on a spectacular, if anticipated, note. For their finale, they brought out a firedancer-a guy who lights sharp knives on fire and spins them around at blinding speed. If you haven’t seen a performance like this, it’s really hopeless to try to describe it, so I’ll let a picture do the talking:

And that, essentially, ended our day. Back at the condo, I had a beer on the patio and reviewed the day’s events. Today was busy-full of fascinating events, sights, and new thoughts. Tomorrow promises to be a bit slower, thankfully. Maybe I’ll be able to catch up.
LJS-12:30 AM

As I sit here in the spectacular and dazzling Tucson International Airport, slowly forcing some so-called “Mango Chunks,” (these taste…green. Even though they’re yellow…) into my reluctant stomach, I find I actually have some time to collect myself from this morning’s hectic activities. You might say that I woke up at around 9:00 AM to take a shower, and you’d technically be right. However, in reality, I also woke up at 3 AM, 5 AM, and 6 AM during a long and restless night. It seems my upstairs neighbor decided to stomp around his apartment at all hours of the night, then take a shower at 6 AM for no apparent reason. Wonderful.

This horribleness was compounded by a seemingly perpetually sour stomach which started several days ago and simply refuses to abate. The “mangoes” this morning were a bid to settle it, since I seemed to be craving some fruit. Even though these “mangoes” were horrible, I take solace in the fact that soon I will be in a place with some truly excellent fruit. Maybe I’ll get some real mangoes when I get there. The real kicker is that I usually don’t even like mangoes.

While reading through my old Australia Travelogue (written nearly a year ago, which in itself is mind-boggling), I noticed that we flew over Hawaii on our way out, and I mentioned that it was a place which I badly wanted to visit. I would never have guessed that I’d be going there only a year later. I think that I should continue this tradition of flying far to the south-west of where I live next year and visit New Zealand. I can dream, can’t I?

In any case, my friend Doug picked me up around 10 this morning and dropped me off at the airport. After a relatively quick check-in and security process (made only slightly longer by one or two inexperienced travelers and one extremely pushy woman), I came to my usual ‘flying out of Tucson’ gate, A6. For some reason, I always get this one, no matter where I’m going. Being an experienced flyer (I’ve averaged about 7 flights a year for the last four years), I’m always amazed when I hear that grown people are flying for only their first or second time ever (example: my friend Doug has been on an airplane once that he remembers). I don’t think of it as a novel experience anymore-an incredible one, to be sure, but not anything special. I suppose my several trans-oceanic flights make me rather more unique as well. I know very few people (outside the ones who have taken these trips with me) who have flown across both the Pacific and the Atlantic.

So, dear constant reader, that’s where I’ll leave you for now. I’ve got about half an hour before boarding my first plane of the day-a minor flight to LAX before setting off on the real adventure. I’ll next update when something interesting happens.
LJS-11:10 AM (Tucson)