The "Back in the Boatyard" Blues

Waking up in the hotel room in Papeete and taking a nice hot shower was such a treat, but we knew what hell we had awaiting us for the next two weeks at “the boatyard.”  Usually we’re anxious to leave a hotel room, but not this time.

We somehow managed to stuff, and I do mean stuff, all our 350 lbs.+ of luggage in a tiny Renault rental car.  With all the weight in the car I could barely make it out of the steep hotel access road using 1st gear and after getting a run at it.

After a leisurely one-hour drive down the west side of the island we arrived at the boatyard and carefully carried all that luggage up a rickety ladder propped against the stern of the boat. We had taken great precautions to protect the boat during our absence, but we could immediately see the mold on the leather cushions and other surfaces. Well, we knew it wouldn’t be easy. We just left everything out in the cockpit, got out the vinegar/water/soap spray bottle and started cleaning everything. After about three hours we had the boat aired out and somewhat inhabitable. Luckily we had put our sheets, pillows, and other soft goods in vacuum pack bags and they seemed OK.

Meryl was in heaven finally being able to buy fresh fruit and vegetables at a well stocked super market.

Just down the road from Taravao is the world famous Teahupoo surf break. This is actually a photo mural of the wave that's at the McDonald's drive-in in Taravao. Hey, you borrow what you have to borrow.

We next took a quick trip down to Carrefour to get groceries and bags of ice cubes so we could use our fridge again (for some reason they don’t sell block ice in Tahiti). Slowly we got things put back and collapsed in bed after a very long day. I knew what was coming up and I dreaded it so going to sleep quickly seemed like the best solution.

Every three or four days Meryl and I would drive about five miles down the road to a roadside faucet that the locals insured was drinkable water. The water in the yard was muddy brown on a good day. 

I can't say Meryl throughly enjoyed this job, but she did good work in cleaning then taping the 88 feet of waterline so we could begin painting the bottom.

We first had the boatyard guys erect a walkway about six feet high around the port side of the boat so we could wash, polish, and wax the sides of the hull. I went in a lower compartment to get my favorite Makita Polisher — that was double wrapped in ZipLoc bags — only to find the bags totally full of water. I dried it out as best I could and prayed when I plugged it in, but nothing. I then disassembled the tool only to find all the electrical circuits covered with rust. To say I was upset is an understatement. For four years that compartment has been bone dry, where the water came from is a mystery to me. Back in the car I drive about three miles south to Taravao where there is a great Ace Hardware full of Makita tools. They had the exact same polisher, but at 3x the price and in 220 volts, which I can’t use once we’re back in the States. But with no choice I plunked down the credit card and walked out the door. Naturally the treads on the spindle were different so some of my polishing bonnets wouldn’t fit, but I somewhat expected that.

The French owner of the boat behind us kindly took this iPhone photo of the happy crew of Flying Cloud working away. Standing on that scaffolding was like walking on a slack line.

Over the next few days we got the boat washed, polished and waxed. I have a favorite wax, Collinite Fleet Wax, but TSA confiscated it out of my luggage last time we flew, so I had to use a not as good substitute. Meryl and I have gotten fairly good at waxing the boat (one yard even offered us a job waxing boats) and the hull is now shiny and looking factory fresh. The next job was not so much fun.

Great shot of me after sanding the bottom of the boat. One wag suggested I join "Blue Man Group." Considering how toxic this paint is I probably won't have to worry about shaving my face for the next year.

Suiting up in my OSHA-approved white bunny suit, with respirator and hat on, I cranked up my Honda genset to provide the 110v my power tools needed, and started at the rear of the boat with a brand new DeWalt orbital sander that I had bought in the states. If you did this job at home you’ve have to have a tarp under the boat to catch all of the old toxic bottom paint and an approved vacuum cleaner hooked up to the sander to catch the dust. But then again, we’re not in the US. 

Fortunately we use an ablative-type of bottom paint that literally wears itself off the boat a little bit every day, so by the time haul out comes (once a year) there’s not much paint on the boat. You really just rough up the surface to accept the new paint. It’s a dirty, ugly job, and when doing it in a tropical environment expect to loose about 3 lbs. of body weight just by sweating inside the bunny suit. Meryl helped by hand sanding the water line and after a long day we had most of the job done.

The next project was to fix some dings I got on the bottom of the keel and rudder when I got two feet on the wrong side of a channel marker (an old rotten timber) in the Los Rosario islands off the coast of Columbia. After sanding the area I mixed up a buttery paste of epoxy and micro-ballons (if you like frosting cakes you’ll love this job) and applied a smooth a paste over all the scratches. Once it hardens you sand it down and do it again, usually by the second coat you’ve got most of the scratches covered. Since the bottom of the keel was partially covered by the support blocks we’d have to do the missed parts later. It looks ugly once all the patches are sanded down, but once the bottom paint goes on you’ll never find them.

A little red paint, then a little black paint. They actually recommend you use two colors when you paint the bottom, that way when you start seeing the red color showing through you know it's time for new bottom paint.

Speaking of bottom paint, we searched all over Tahiti for a special bottom paint called Ameron ABC3. It’s what the US Navy puts on its destroyers and has proven to be a very effective paint in tropical waters. No store in Papeete had any, but we’d heard a rumor that our very own Ace Hardware in Taravao might have some so we jumped in the car and drove down.  The good news was they had some. The bad news was they sold the last two cans of blue, our usual color, the day before. We settled for what they had left on the shelf, two cans of red and two cans of black. This bottom paint sells for about $200/gal. so you want to be very careful with it.

Now here’s the part where they just about hauled me off to the mental institution. We’re on a tight schedule to go back into the water at the boat yard. That means we’ve got to complete the bottom paint and finish all our other jobs. The day before we’re ready to paint we make one last run to ACE to get some paint rollers, trays, etc. and one more can of black bottom paint that had just come in. We kept all the paint on the floor of the back seat of our rental car. When we got back to the yard, we parked the car and I opened the back door and out flies a can of black bottom paint. In my youth I could have done the diving fly ball catch, but no longer. It hit the ground, the lid sprang off and $200 of very rare and valuable paint began a circular migration to the center of the earth. That was truly the last can of paint in all of Tahiti (you can’t mix brands of bottom paint, it’s tough enough to get the same brand to stick over the top of itself). I saved about a quart that still hadn’t poured out, but not knowing exactly how much paint we’d need (and needing the black to cover the red first coats) I was in a super crabby mood for the rest of the day. As Meryl mentioned, what if it had opened inside the car? The rental car company examined the car with a microscope before they released it to us so I can’t imagine how that scenario would have gone. 

These are the things that happen cruising that seriously test your mental stability and ability to get out of bed the next day.  We got a coat of red paint on without any drama the next day and knew we were going to be super close on the amount of black needed to finish the job. Luckily we ended up with about one quart left over after the entire job was done. The good news is we did a much better job than the typical yard workers would do (we’d had the yard do this job for the last four years, but in Tahiti labor is just too expensive). We breathed a huge sigh of relief, high-fived each other, and promised to get really drunk at some point just to forget the whole experience.

I found a wonderful Makita high speed die grinder on Amazon that spins at some ungodly RPM. With a good brass cup brush you can clean the underwater metal on the boat fairly quickly. You just need to make sure you don't grind your thumb off (don't ask me how I know this). 

The world's most expensive paint (even more than bottom paint) is PropSpeed. It does a great job of protecting the prop and shaft from underwater growth for exactly one year. In this photo you can see the new protective zincs on the prop, prop shaft, and underbody of the boat.

The last job was to coat the prop shaft and prop with a special PropSpeed paint that is hard to find and normally costs $200. They only had it in a larger size in Tahiti so we got to spend $400 (hopefully we can use the rest next year). It’s a very tricky job, but since we’d done it last year we’d gained some experience and actually did a fairly good job. You have to have the shaft and prop super clean right before you apply the PropSpeed, and I enlisted my secret tool (a Makita electric die grinder that spins at some incredible RPMs). I put a brass wire cup brush on (also impossible to find in Tahiti) and got the shaft and prop looking like a trophy on championship day. Coating the shaft/prop with PropSpeed just about guarantees you a year of no growth on the prop. I can actually feel the difference when I’m motoring the boat.

The new 40-ton hydraulic trailer does a good job of adjusting itself to the shape of the hull.

Meryl always has great trepidation whenever the boat is being moved, perhaps rightly so.

Meryl and Yvan, the yard manager. Yvan did an excellent job making sure everything went smoothly in the yard. Also, having someone who spoke English helped us in a hundred ways when we were tying to order parts, etc.

The hydraulic trailer is not self propelled, rather they use the red tractor to very slowly move the boat from location to location. Then they anchor the tractor with a heavy chain and slowly let gravity roll the trailer into the water.

After three weeks of no toilets, no showers, and no refrigeration on the boat we were extremely happy to see Flying Cloud gently lowered into the waters of Port Phaeton. We actually got to sit out in the cockpit that night sipping a drink and enjoying the sunset without becoming hors d’oeuvres for the local mosquito population.  Never have I been so glad to have the boat back in the water.

To celebrate we walked the mile down to the Carrefour with our little baggie of chocolate chips and bought the world's most expensive Haagen-Dazs ice cream. And it tasted ever so good.

I loved watching the local Tahitian kids at their sailing school. It's serious training with the students learning boat rigging, navigation, safety, tactics, and general seamanship. One day it was blowing a steady 20 knots and they still went out sailing. This little girl always had the proper Gallic pout on her face, and always was in the lead over all the boys.

The next day we were blessed by the local Tahitian kids, who having attended a two-week long sailing school, all sailed past us in their Optimus racing dinghies and waved. The only reply I knew was from watching the Tour de France bicycle race so I yelled “Allez, allez.”

They probably thought I was a dork.

Our Honolulu Respite

We spent our last night in Seattle at our son’s Brad’s house to get some last minute time with our grandchildren and to take advantage of his huge quad car garage to pack and rearrange our bags. Since we were not flying back to Papeete on United we couldn’t take advantage of the 140 lbs. of extra luggage UAL offers to employees. We were stuck with 50 lbs. along with everyone else. Since we were taking back a 45 lb. water maker, this made packing very critical.

A Spectra Ventura 200T water maker that we're going to try and stuff in a roll-aboard suitcase and get past TSA at Boise Airport, which has the toughest TSA inspection in the nation.

We had three large duffels from REI and a roll-aboard duffel from a friend. We carefully packed the water maker with the form-fit foam it was shipped in, into the roll-aboard suitcase. We had a travel scale rigged from the rafters so we carefully weighed each bag. For the first time we were not taking a specialty foods back with us since we were incredibly tight on space and weight. After rearranging and repacking we got each bag within one pound. We’d check them one more time at the airport in Boise.

The next morning we set off bright and early for the 8-hour drive to Boise. As usual I throughly enjoyed the drive marveling at the vast wide open spaces and the fields of wheat and sagebrush.  We arrived at the Best Western Vista hotel at Boise Airport only to find we had an inside room on the 2nd floor and there was no elevator!  We schlepped the 350 lbs. of luggage up to the room and crashed into bed.

We spent the next morning cleaning Christa’s car, arranging for its long term storage (they use the car when they visit McCall during the summer), and doing a little exploring of the downtown Boise area. We actually enjoyed walking around the historic area and found a great Thai place for lunch. We met our former cruiser friend Dean Hearst who will be watching over the car for the next year, driving it every month or so to keep the battery charged and the tires round.

We also drove to the airport to talk with TSA about getting the water maker through security (they have been confiscating lots of our stuff during the last two years, and the water maker looks like a miniature atomic bomb). The guy seemed non-plussed, but, as he explained, there wasn’t much we could do about it. 

The next morning we took the 6:00 a.m. shuttle to the airport (the shuttle driver was not amused by all our baggage). Since we were flying on UAL from Boise to San Francisco to Honolulu we didn’t have to worry about the weight but we did note the exact poundage of each bag. Got on the plane with no worries and had a quick flight to SFO, where after a short stop we got on the flight to Honolulu. Hawaii is always a tough flight for stand by employees to get on but today wasn’t too bad. Arriving in HNL we were amazed all our bags made it (including the nefarious water maker). Even more amazing was that we could fit everything in the economy rental car.

Meryl spent part of her career as a Pan Am Flight Attendant flying 3 to 5 day trips to Papeete.

With our trusty Garmin GPS we negotiated the typically tough Honolulu traffic trying to find our relative’s condo near Kahala Mall.  To shorten a very interesting long story, my cousin Lori dated Randy when she lived in Hawaii. Randy, then a confirmed bachelor, wasn’t quite ready to settle down and when Lori moved back to Tacoma she married a local guy, which, to put it politely, did not turn out to be a good choice for a lifelong partner. Twenty five years later Lori saw the light and divorced him and eventually started seeing Randy again. We were not fond of husband number one, but loved Randy the day we met him. He’s a long time Hawaii resident and the location manager for Hollywood filmmakers. So cool to see pictures of him with Tom Selleck from Magnum PI and scenes from the original Hawaii 5-0, Jake and the Fatman, Jurassic Park, and currently, the remake of King Kong. The only negative was that Randy was out scouting for the King Kong movie and we saw him for only a limited time, but still, what a great guy he is! Lori and he wed a couple of years ago and she splits time between Tacoma and Hawaii until she retires early next year.

Th beach at Waikiki will never change, except now there are more Japanese tourists than Americans.

I love this picture of "rush hour" on Kalakaua Avenue in downtown Waikiki. 

We even took time out for dinner at the beachside Dukes Restaurant in Waikiki, complete with umbrella drinks.

We used to fly to Hawaii frequently and Meryl flew there with Pan Am, but it has been a long time since we’ve visited Oahu. We enjoyed walking along Kalakaua Avenue and watching the hoards of vacation goers doing vacation stuff. For sheer people watching Waikiki is hard to beat.

The one thing we never did in all the years we flew to Hawaii was visit Pearl Harbor, so that was first on our list. It’s obviously a major tourist attraction, but it’s also a memorial to the thousands who lost their lives on Dec. 7, 1941. The park is very well done with large open air buildings housing displays and photos of the Dec. 7th and the war in the Pacific in general. My dad was on the USS Searaven, which was submerged in Manila Harbor on Dec. 7th. When they came up to periscope depth early that morning they knew something was up as the whole Japanese fleet was steaming out of the bay at flank speed (communications with subs during those days was very limited).

Sunday morning, Dec. 7, 1941 at Pearl Harbor.

A highly accurate model of the USS Arizona at the Pearl Harbor Museum.

The USS Arizona Memorial straddling the remains of the Arizona. The only thing visible of the ship is the rusted gun turret at center right. 

Gun turret of the USS Arizona. 

These oil drops that seep from the remains of the USS Arizona remind me of "tears of sorrow" for the thousands still entombed in the ship.

We took the launch out to the site of the USS Arizona where the only thing you could see was the rusted smokestacks of the once gallant battleship. One by one drops of oil escape from the submerged ship and slowly floated to the surface, a grim reminder of all the lives still entombed on the ship.

The USS Bowfin, an S-class submarine that served in the Pacific Ocean during WWII.

The forward torpedo room of the USS Bowfin. Sailors would sleep on pipe berths suspended above the torpedos, with the ceiling only inches from their heads.

The diving controls of the submarine. My dad's job was keeping all of this functioning, under any conditions.

We later visited the USS Bowfin, a sub close to the design of my dad’s sub, and were amazed by the tight living conditions. I was told that the submariners (mainly midwest farm boys) were the elite of the US Navy. They were handpicked for their ability to live in close quarters under extremely stressful and dangerous conditions. I contacted a guy who had served on the Searaven several years after my dad (who died when I was 10) and asked me what I knew about him. I remembered having eight “patrol” cards of his that were awarded after each patrol. The guy whistled and said “your dad was either very good or very lucky, most likely both because most guys only lasted one or two patrols. My dad was Chief of Boat, essentially the highest ranking enlisted man on the boat, and describe by old salts as “the only guys who know what the hell they are doing on the ship.” I wished he had lived long enough to tell me all the stories; he was a hero in my eyes.

The view back into the crater of Diamond Head.

The view from the top is spectacular, especially when you get a rainbow like this.

The white building on the left is a large indoor water tank where they shoot the "in the ocean" scenes for many of the great Hawaiian films.

The next day we got up early and took a nice hike up to Diamond Head, something else I’d never done on Oahu. It was a strenuous hike, but with a phenomenal view looking down over Waikiki and the vast Pacific Ocean. On the walk back to Randy’s condo we went by the original studios of Hawaii 5-0, including the big soundstage with a huge pool where they would shoot water scenes. Someday when we have more time I’d like to come back and have Randy show us around the island to all the film locations.

This really brought back memories of all the times Meryl and I had flown to Hawaii and the great times we had.

By Saturday morning we had done the final rebalancing of our bags and drove our rental car back to the airport. It was a complete zoo at HNL as a dozen flights all leave in the mid afternoon. People were actually lined up out in the street for the ticket counters. Luckily we had left plenty of time and got checked in for our Hawaiian Airlines flight to Papeete. We scored 50 lbs. 49.5 lbs, 49.1 lbs., and 47 lbs. on our bags. I had been having nightmares about getting these bags to Papeete for weeks. What a huge relieve to have them finally checked in and out of our hair. We were flying on Hawaiian since United has no partners that fly to Papeete (and would offer us discount fares) and Hawaiian had a $550 one-way fare to Papeete. We walked what seemed miles to the gate and were relieved that at least we had confirmed seats and didn’t have to worry about even getting on the flight.

The 5.5 hour flight was nice and we enjoyed just relaxing on the airplane. Getting back to the boat with all our stuff is always extremely stressful for both of us. Landing at Papeete at 9:30 pm was hectic with hundreds of people retrieving their bags and slowly moving towards the gate. Amazingly we didn’t see any customs guys and we just wheeled our mountain of bags through the gates and into the humid night air of Papeete. After a short 2-minute cab ride we were back at our favorite Tahitian Airport Hotel and dealing with the mountain of luggage again. It was great to finally get to the air conditioned room and just chilling out before we fell deep asleep. 

Even we can’t handle our lifestyle most of the time.

It's Like High School All Over Again

We stayed in Seattle for over two months this year so I could attend my 50th high school reunion. On the day of my 30th reunion I was on a 50-mile hike at Mt. Rainier National Park with the family, and was nagged by the thought I was supposed to be somewhere else that day. The 40th reunion I just completely forgot about, not sure why, so I felt an obligation to myself to at least try and remember the 50th reunion.

As a baby boomer, I remember always going to schools with large classes and with extra portables outside, and whose schools were splitting to form new high schools. I attended Curtis Junior High School in University Place, then transferred to Wilson High School in the north end of Tacoma. It was a solid, middle class high school (I believe we had one black student, a travesty by today’s standards), but all-in-all it was a great high school. Wilson was famous for one thing:  a state championship swimming team that was undefeated for seven years.

Oh the stories these three could tell: "You see officer, the tires are just a little under pressure and that's probably the cause of the squealing sound you heard . . ."

As a transfer student I knew exactly two kids at the school, and remembered feeling so relieved when I met Scott McRae and Tom Teitge in my gym class. We stayed lifelong friends to this day. I guess I was a typical student, active in clubs and student council, played on the football team, and dated a cheerleader. My big passion was skiing at Crystal Mountain, which had recently opened. I remember when Tom and I were walking across the Commons before class one morning and gazed out to Mt. Rainier beckoning to us in the distance. It took us about 40 minutes to rush home, give our mom’s excuses, get our ski gear, and enjoy one of the most incredible days of skiing I’d ever had. When the school attendance clerk called my mom she said I was home sick. When they called Tom’s mom (standing on a higher moral ground, I guess), she said Tom was up skiing with Walter Conner. Since we were both in Student Council we caught hell from Mr. Beers, our advisor, the next day. It was kind of hard to hide those sun tans and turtleneck lines.

I had a lot of trepidation about attending the 50th reunion. During high school you never quite knew what other students thought of you, or how you’d fit in with the others. We had an exceptionally large class at Wilson, just under 700 students, and I probably knew about 20 kids somewhat closely, another 30 loosely, and would say hi to a wider group from my classes and athletics. But that still leaves a huge number of kids I didn’t know.

Ironically I’d just started getting reconnected with a group of about 10 former classmates via Facebook. It was great to hear about their lives, but not always great to learn about their politics and obsessions with cats.

The reunion was held at Fircrest Golf Club in Tacoma, a club that my parents had been members at when we lived in Tacoma. It had changed a lot over time, with a beautiful new club house set among towering Douglas Fir trees.  It now felt a little out of my league.

I wasn’t sure what I would tell people when they asked what I was doing and where I lived. Sailing around the world on a sailboat that is currently in Tahiti seemed a bit much for a high school reunion (especially in Tacoma), so for many I just said we were doing some traveling. We’ve learned that most people simply don’t understand our strange lifestyle and don’t know the right questions to ask. The first question is always “Aren’t you worried about pirates?” To which my standard reply is “only the salesmen at West Marine.”  We’d love to talk about the many unique experiences we’ve had, the fascinating people we’ve met, and what crossing 3,000 miles of ocean is like, but that’s usually saved for a relatively few friends who truly understand what we’re doing and why.

It was interesting to see people I hadn’t seen in over 50 years, some were vaguely familiar, some I didn’t recognize at all, and a few lucky ones didn’t seem like they had aged a day (a stunning red dress showcased one beautiful former cheerleader). It was great hearing their stories, and seeing how various classmates turned out after all those years. Some were still married, but many were on second, third, fourth, and in one case, a fifth marriage (which I wouldn’t have suspected of her at all of this particular woman). Overall, people were all genuinely friendly and Meryl got a chance to meet some of my friends and to commiserate with other spouses who got dragged along to the event. 

We left with a nice feeling that although we made some unconventional choices in our lives, we were content with the direction those choices led us and hopefully we’ll have some great stories to tell when we’re maneuvering our wheelchairs around the retirement center.

Across the Pacific, Again

After a very full two weeks at McCall visiting with Christa and the grandkids, we drove Christa’s new Chevy Traverse from Boise to Seattle while she flew over with the kids. Having being at sea for over eight months, it was wonderful to drive through Idaho and Eastern Washington, where your eyes can linger on the vast expanse of wheat fields stretching to the horizon. It reminded me, in a way, of being at sea.

We stopped at one of the ubiquitous fruit stands and stocked up on super fresh peaches and corn-on-the-cob, missing the super farm fresh veggies you can get in Eastern Washington. Driving over Snoqualmie Pass, something we’ve done hundreds of times, was like a homecoming to the evergreen forests of our youth. Around every bend was a hike we’d done or a mountain peak we’d climbed.

Arriving in Issaquah we were welcomed with open arms by our friends Paul and Irene Ballew, who are always ready to listen to our tall tales of the South Pacific. Visiting with them is like going home, they make us feel so welcome and accepted.

On Saturday August 1 we were invited to a pool party by our kid’s former childcare provider and surrogate grandmother, Anna. It was great to watch Quinn and Brody competing for the most outrageous jump off the diving board, and the fearless Conner, who although he can’t swim yet, still thinks he can. We all did our best job keeping him afloat long enough to make it to the side.

On Sunday we drove and hour and one-half south to Meryl’s sister’s place in Allyn, Washington, where her husband Bob was celebrating his 81st birthday. Fun to see old friends from our days at Camp Pecusa in Maui. 

The next few days were full of medical appointments and general errands around Seattle, and the joy of returning to the Ballews for a fresh gin and tonic and great conversation long into the night. I might mention running around Seattle is no easy task these days as traffic seems to be approaching gridlock, quite a change from our lifestyle on the open sea.

Traveling 12 hours on an overseas flight is not everyone's cuppa tea. These kids were great (most of the time).

The view of Lobster Bay from the top floor of Christa and Nash's house.

As if we hadn’t traveled enough, on Wednesday we headed out to SeaTac Airport with Christa to help her with the kids on the flight back to Hong Kong. Quinn, who at age five has more air miles than most adults, is a seasoned traveler and quickly broke into her routine of games, arts & crafts, and iPad movies. Conner did much of the same, just with a little more drama involved. All in all they were great kids on the flight. Twelve hours later Nash met us at the airport and chauffeured Christa and the kids home while we followed in a cab (their luggage alone filled the car).

Sai Kung Harbor is packed with sampans and other watercraft. Makes our crowded anchorages look like child's play.

I love this little Chinese hardware stores; you can find the most interesting stuff just browsing the aisles.

We'd stop at the Sai Kung market to get fresh veggies for the night's meal.

Sai Kung is famous for it's outdoor fish restaurants. Huge tanks showcase almost every type of seafood available, and as they say, it's fresh to your table.

Christa had an intense week-long medical training for her job, putting us in the roll of Grandma and Grandpa for the duration. Our job was to drive the kids 15 miles to Sai Kung each day where they were enrolled in a summer sports camp. Now imagine that you’ve been on a boat for eight months and are suddenly placed in a left-hand drive car, in a foreign country, whose narrow roads challenge even a Mini Cooper (throw in the running commentary from a 3- and 5-year-old), well, you understand the situation. While the kids were at camp Meryl and I would wander down to Sai Kung village and roam around. It’s a popular area with the ex-pat community and full of interesting shops and restaurants. We would typically end up at the local Starbucks, which had good WiFi and even better tea and scones.

The Clearwater Bay Golf & Country Club had just installed a new children's playground. Quinn and Conner could get lost in the maze of toys and contraptions.

My favorite Chinese food in life is char sui bows, and these were exceptionally good.

A ride on the new Hong Kong Wheel near the business district (Nash's office is in the background) on Hong Kong Island.

Meals in Hong Kong were interesting as Nash and Christa were on a strict diet and exercise program (Kensei), and Meryl and I were not (but should have been). We did get the opportunity to walk over to the Sai Kung pool while the kids were at camp and swim in their 50-meter pool (I though it was a 100-meter pool and kept telling Meryl we must be great shape because we just swam 1,000 yards). We went to Nash’s club, The Clearwater Golf and Country Club, several times to go swimming with the kids and have lunch. Christa also took us out to the City Mansions on Hong Kong Island for great dim sum lunch with the kids and a ride on the Hong Kong Wheel.

We had a great time putting together a neat video on “the neighborhood animals in Hong Kong” for a friend of Christa’s whose child was in the hospital in the States. It was fun following Nash and Quinn around the tideflats in front of their house looking for a wayward crab or errant clam.

This is about as far as you can get from my typical breakfast at the Mt. Si Golf Club.

What a great day with a great son-in-law. 

The highlight of the trip (other than just spending quality time with the grandkids) was when Nash invited me to go golfing at the Clearwater Bay Club. He made it sound like we’d just go out on Sunday and hit some balls, but when we arrived there was some huge ceremony involving the founding fathers of the club with lots of pomp and circumstance. 

We ended up playing in a shot gun tournament, paired with a very nice Chinese couple who politely ignored my complete lack of golf skills (I had played once in the last eight years). Nash discreetly called to the Pro Shop and had them deliver an extra case of golf balls just so I could finish the course. Non-the-less, it was a stunning golf course and I felt very special to spend the afternoon with Nash.

Oh what can I say, a long foot massage seems to make all the world's problems melt away.

The other highlight for both Meryl and I was the opportunity to go to frequent foot massage parlors with Nash and Christa to relax our tired bodies. If I were a rich man I would probably just go from massage parlor to massage parlor all day long.

The time went too fast, as it always does, and soon we were being dropped off at the airport by Christa after a tearful goodbye with the grandkids. Unfortunately there was a huge line for the United Employee Check-In and we had to flag down an official to help get us through security and immigration in time to catch our flight. Just as we ran up to the gate they were calling our name and we simply continued straight on to the airplane. A huge consolation was being able to sit in Global First Class and watch a zillion movies on the way back to San Francisco. Thanks to Meryl for having flown those million miles to make all this possible.

R U Ready for the Show?

Finally, the whole family is together again this time for several days at Brad’s lovely new home out in Preston.  Their home is situated on 9 acres and  is a kid’s dream house surrounded by woods with trails leading everywhere, a great tree house with electricity and two bunks, and a large pond with a floating dock and a live beaver.  Brad has spent many hours  helping construct trails at Evans Preserve as a volunteer for the Sammamish Parks Department and now has his own territory to develop.  He has added more trails, a zip-line, a great sandbox, and thrives on keeping the yard mowed with his riding lawn mower.  Brody and Bennett seem to thrive on being out in nature and helping Dad out in the woods.

Ashley and  Brody, Brad and Bennett, along with Maya

Brody and Bennett were so anxious to see their cousins and Ashley had all kinds of activities planned. With four energetic kids under the age of five it was quite the show. The kids love being together and since Brody and Quinn are so close in age they get along pretty well as the ring leaders for all the activity.

Brody 5, Quinn 5, Conner 3, Bennett 2 all dressed in Seahawk PJs.

Brody, now five,  has always looked older than his years and is in a pre- kindergarden class. He has the prettiest blue eyes with long lashes and a mischievous grin especially when he's teasing. He loves riding his scooter, playing baseball, and wrestling with Boppa. He's good at sports and is already learning to play golf with a new set of clubs from Papa (Russell) that look close to professional.

Walter can remember doing this with Brad not that long ago.

Brody on his new all terrain scooter.

Bennett at 2, is the sweetest and cuddliest little guy and says some of the funniest things that pop into his head. He seems to hold his own with brother Brody and also loves his scooter, helping Mom in the kitchen, playing with trucks, and hiking around the trails.

Bennett out scooting around the driveway.

The  kids played endlessly out in the sandbox with the trucks and loader. Conner got up early one morning  and headed out to the sandbox to have all the trucks to himself.

Sandbox time is all day long.

By far the favorite activity was the “slip and slide” This was no ordinary slide, it started with a high blow up slide at the top and ran down the hillside for a long slide. This went on for hours with brief intermissions.  We don't have enough bandwidth to put in a video so you'll have to use your imagination.  Another favorite was to hike on down to the pond, sit on the bench and watch the birds and an occasional beaver working away on the dam.

We had a Family barbecue gathering with Auntie Durlyn and a couple friends. Brad is the BBQ extraordinaire! By the end  each day the grandkids had the bubbliest of baths and the parents would get a chance to put up their feet and relax for a few minutes before falling off into a deep sleep! Kids require a lot of energy especially for us!

Brad tending over some delicious Salmon fillets.