9:30 or so, I'm up and on the lappy again, copying photos and writing journal entries. Jason asks the question of the month: What to do today? It's been a persistent question throughout this whole trip. If you guys haven't noticed, my plan for this Hawaii trip consisted of the following items:
1. Buy roundtrip ticket to Hawaii.
What a masterpiece of a plan. I've been playing it by ear this whole time, mooching ideas from Jason and Kristl, since they live here after all. So far, it's been an absolute blast.
I've been checking the weather reports and it looks like Monday is going to be cloudy with a 60% chance of rain. Seeing as how the other day said 10% chance and it was pouring, I'm thinking it'll rain. Maybe even frogs or hellfire.
Sooooo that leaves only today for... skydiving.
Call up Vince and Heather, the two who seemed to like the idea, and we set up a plan to pick them up and head over to the airfield. I make a reservation for 1:30 pm, grab some directions, and we take off. Sara bids us goodbye, and departs.
Jason and I stop over at Vince and Heather's place, pick them up, and head up to the northwest side of the island which is where Dillingham Airfield is. We take the H1 west up to the H2 north, figure out which direction the airfield is, and decide to head into Haleiwa for some food. Once again, we stop at Giovanni's (number two) and get some plates of shrimp scampi. Changing the location thankfully doesn't affect the taste. Full of food, we head back toward Dillingham, burping garlic and shrimp (garlic and hot dog for Vince) all the way toward the Airfield.
The H2 freeway eventually turns into a highway. That eventually loses the shoulders and converts to a two lane road. And that somehow changed to a dirt road with, oh, 800 potholes. Hmm.
We eventually get to the right highway, and after following various dubious directions (most of the directions found on the web say that the signs are poor in Waialua and we have to follow their anecdotal instructions) we arrive at Dillingham Airfield, parking next to the Skydive Hawaii van.
I find Mary, our contact, and she hands us a few forms which basically state that skydiving is dangerous and we can all get injured or die, and that we waive them of all liability if we do. Then a video comes on, which turns out to be the same one I saw last time. It has an old guy with a massively long beard sitting behind a desk and reiterating major points from the forms, basically how dangerous everything is. Then he goes, "With that out of the way, let's get to sky diving!" and a video of a dive is shown.
This is going to be awesome.
We get outside to wait for the tandem instructors/divers to call our names. Vince and Heather's come by, and my guy, Jim introduces himself. He talks about what a beautiful day it is and how it's going to be a spectacular drop. Then he hands me my straps and helps me get them on---oh wait, something's wrong, he says, and takes them off and to the table. I overhear things like "What's that doing there?" and "Why is it doing this?" come from him, and look behind me to see Vince and Heather ready to go.
You can't imagine how confident I'm feeling about this drop now.
Once we strap up, we head out to the middle of the field where the little caravan plane lands and turns in front of us. Note: The time from signing the forms to getting out here was barely 20 minutes. Take THAT, Elsinore!
Our three guys ask us, who wants to go first? I volunteered, but Heather seemed like she wanted to be first, so I mentioned that I'd follow the both of them down. That way I'd be able to see them on my way down. Not that I'd pay that much attention to them when I have the awesome view in front of me. But more on that later.
A bunch of people hop into the plane, including a few tandems and a few solo jumpers. Some diving videographers and cameramen also get on. Cool.
I'm still burping up garlic butter and shrimp, and now my throat is really dry. That must mean I'm nervous. Jim says the first time is the fear of the unknown. The second time?
Fear of the known.
The pilot kicks the throttle to the max and the tiny plane rolls its way down the field, eventually lifting itself free of the ground. At least Dillingham has a paved runway. The ride toward flight is smooth.
I ask Jim how long he's been doing this, and how long is the freefall. He answers "just a few weeks" and "for the rest of your life!" (The real answers are over 13 years and about a minute)
My throat is really dry now. Still burping up garlic and butter shrimp. Dude, I'm really full. This could be bad news.
We reach about 12 to 14 thousand feet in the air. Looking out the window, I see nothing but clouds over the land mass, and a bunch of ocean behind us. Heather is up first, walking up to the now opened canopy door. For some reason I decide to yell "Bye!!!" and everyone else also waves goodbye to her, and she waves bye back.
Only now do I realize how morbid that was.
The tandem guy goes, 1, 2, 3... and dives out the door.
Heather's scream can be heard over the wind. The whole plane erupts in laughter and people give each other hi-fives.
Next up is Vince. His tandem guy gets to the door, counts 1, 2 and 3, and does a flip out the door.
Oh how RAD.
I'm up next. Get up next to the door, dangle my feet over the edge, burp up some shrimp and garlic, and next thing I know, I'm flung out of a moving plane.
The G-forces at this point pull my guts in all directions. Jim starts to spin and now my organs are pulled to my head and my feet.
Uh oh... I start to feel the shrimp go up my throat... crap! Cough cough....COUGH hungghhhhh.....
----I'm good... I managed to use every inch of my being to prevent my delicious lunch from emptying onto Heather and Vince. Now, I can truly enjoy falling (and spinning) at 120 mph. Looking around me, my view is a bunch of clouds over the mountains in central Oahu, a beautiful view to the east of north shore beaches, clouds below us and slightly south of us, and to the north and west more gorgeous beaches and the beautiful blue ocean.
I can't possibly describe in words how beautiful the scene looks and also how I feel as I'm careening towards the ground, the power of the air rushing past me and the surging plateau of adrenaline keeping me insanely alert of every passing millisecond.
Halfway through the cloud, the chute deploys and I'm pulled upwards with it. Jim asks me to take the controls for a moment.
Haha, he trusts me with his life. Silly, silly Jim.
He pulls off my goggles, allowing me to see everything clearly. We float through the clouds and the scene below is breathtaking. I take a moment to catch my breath, surveying the lush green rainforests covering the mountains to our south and southeast, the entire coastline from the edge on the west all the way to the northeast, the vast green fields and small towns dotting the northern part of the island, and the tiny airfield below us. I see two little chutes below me floating their way lower and lower. I think Heather is spinning around in hers.
Speaking of which, Jim mentions that we could do some of our own by pulling on either side of the lines that I'm holding. The left one turns us left, the right one right. He tells me to yank both, and we coast even slower. This is the airbrake, he says. Now pull the left one, to my leg. I do, and the chute catches the spin and we're spiraling toward the ground at a ridiculous speed. He tells me to switch to the right, the G-forces attempting to rip my sanity from me. One more left tug and we're facing straight down.
Straight. Down.
Grab the airbrakes again, and coast back to the right side up position. A few more turns to survey the area, a couple of more spins before we have to stop, and Jim takes the controls again for the landing. We coast on down to the field, and we hit the ground. Hard. My feet hurt a bit, but overall this experience was way better than my jump from Lake Elsinore. The scenery is more beautiful, the people are friendlier, there is less instruction and lag time, and everyone has a sort of energy that really shines. You can tell these guys love their job and love showing people what a great experience diving is.
I like this one. Heather is sooooo happy.
But that other guy...
See it larger.
I get to Heather and Vince and ask them how they felt, and they both loved it. LOVED IT!
Larger.
I get down to the building, we get the payments and tips squared away, and back outside to thank the instructors and head out. Before I do, I walk up to one of the guys taking some shots with a Canon 20D and 10-22 lens, and ask him about what he does and where he came from, photographically. His background is in film and he's learning as much as he can about photography, saving up money to buy a digital camera. He used to do regular business/portrait photos before, and he got a chance to do some skydiving photography, and the rest is history.
Skydiving photographer. How awesome a job would that be?
Mission complete.
I recommend that he get his digital camera sooner rather than later and use that to learn since the film cost is negligible and the feedback is immediate. We chat a bit more, and then peace out, we're gone.
Heading back out east this time to avoid the traffic going in the opposite direction, Jason thinks to find a place that has some bigger waves. We stop by at a beach with people gathered around a roped off area and we find out it's Turtle Beach, a place we tried to find on Saturday!
Turtles!
A woman was there to tell people interesting facts about the turtles, and also presumably to keep people from going in the roped off area and bothering the protected endangered species.
More photos here.
Heather is amused because I'm lying down on my stomach in the sand.
A few photos (okay, possibly 90) later, we head back to the car and decide to try finding some big waves. Heading further east, we pass by a few beach parks with lame waves. Lame, I presume, because Heather vetoes them all. She suggests a place called pipeline, and we head over there to find... pretty big waves.
Cow
a
bung
a
See a bigger one here.
After a few photos here, we head off further to the east and then to the south to get back to the city. We stop by the Chinaman's Hat, a pointy shaped island not too far from the shore, and then take off again to drop off Heather and Vince.
Jason mentions that he'd like to get some cheap gas. Where to find cheap gas? At the military! We head to the NEX, or Naval Exchange, sort of like a big Costco where the price of membership is the US government pwning you. Security is tight; Military ID must be presented at all times. Military personell can get guests in, but guests aren't allowed to purchase anything from this place. Some people enforce it, others don't. I managed to snag a bunch of things (no tax!) but was later stopped when I tried to buy bottled Coke.
Bottled Coke! I never see this stuff on the mainland. It's cuz the Military keeps it under wraps at their shiesty exchange.
I bet they caress those bottles at night, talking to them and calling them "preciousssssssss".
After we grab a bunch of boozahol and whatnot, we ponder dinner options. Jason mentions a good Greek place he knows of, and we head on down to... the Olive Tree Cafe, a tiny place with barely a counter and way too few tables for the patrons there. Jason and I both got the souvlaki plate, which has lamb kabob garnished with some kind of sauce (I think tzatziki) and a Greek salad with tomatoes and cucumbers. We also picked out two appetizers: mussel cevice, a set of six open clam mussels garnished with olive oil, lemon juice, capers, and crumbs of feta, and also some platter with blocks of feta cheese, olive oil, olives, and pita bread.
The lamb souvlaki was tender and had a bold taste which was well accompanied by the sauce. The Greek salad was, well, a salad. George's on the mainland still has the best Greek style salad.
George's salad with calamari? Total pwnage.
Next, onto the mussels. Absolutely sublime. I don't even like shellfish, but you'd lose an arm trying to keep me away from these!
Last, we have the feta/olive oil/olives plate. The feta cheese was strong tasting but not pungent or overbearing, the olives were juicy and full of a rich flavor, and the soft pita bread keeps the palate from being overwhelmed. Bravo!
Delicious place, but I still prefer the ground beef and lamb style of gyro from the mainland. The souvlaki with the sauce here is excellent though, probably better than the one at George's. Next time I'll try it there to compare.
And thus, after stuffing myself retarded, I call it a night.
BTW...
21
Is the number of mosquito bites that I have accumulated thus far.
