Lachat.com

I dreaded going into the harbormaster's office in the morning. Going into a conflict makes me feel ill. I try at all costs to avoid such unhappy confrontations. However, we were left with little choice. The forced closure of the Ala Wai Marine boat yard put us back in the water before we were ready. Heck, they put the boat back in the water when we weren't even on it. The work slips were not even an option. The state had seized control of them months ago. People still docked there, and Charlie got hell for it, but he didn't have any control over them. When the yard work ran long, we'd lost our temporary slip. The harbormaster gave it to someone else. According to my electric bill, that someone else used my power during the time I was paying for the slip also. And so, left without a slip, we were unable to secure a slip through more official channels on such short notice. That left me with the dreaded meeting with the harbormaster--the lord over the boating fiefdom called the Ala Wai Small Boat Harbor. Yes, none other than Ken Chee himself.

I stepped into the office with Eric at my side. Florence greeted me at the counter. I explained that left with no other choice we had moved into the vacant trainsient slip in the 700 row. I told her how about how the boat yard had put us in the water before we were ready, that the standing rigging needed to be replaced, and that the manufacturer was sending us a replacement cable for the defective part. She listened, then fetched James. Now, I told the same story to James. He told me that I couldn't just pull into a slip and that we were still at least four people behind in the wait list for a temporary slip. James said that they were going to offer that slip to someone else, but it sounded like they hadn't made that overture yet. Eric asked him how long they offer the slip to each person before moving down the list. James replied that they give each person two days to respond, but that he knew at least one person on the list would accept. So, Eric posited that if no one accepted, then we would get the slip in eight days. James gave a non-committal answer.

Then James went and fetched the grand poobah himself, Ken Chee. I repeated the story a third time for him. He told me that we couldn't just pull into a slip, that there are rules. I told him that we are in distress. Our boat was in no condition to go onto the open ocean to another harbor. Sure, we had limited maneuvering ability. However, we had no power to charge the batteries, we were using a defective cable, and the electrical system itself laying on the floor. I offered to show him a picture, but he declined.

With a passive-aggressive sigh, Ken asked if we had inquired as to the slip availability at the yacht clubs and the fuel dock. We said that we would look into that. I told him that I wasn't a member of any yacht clubs, but he indicated to me that it didn't matter. Ken told us that before giving us a slip, we'd have to make sure that there wasn't any room available elsewhere. And so, Eric and I departed to go immediately inquire about the availability of slips.

Our first stop, and the closest location, was the Hawaii Yacht Club. After being buzzed in past the gate, we chatted with the receptionist and received some rudimentary information regarding their prices and policies. However, she said we'd have to talk with the port captain about availability. Only he can offer slips. We called up Robbie Santanello, the port captain, and scheduled a meeting for later in the afternoon.

Next, we dropped by the fuel dock at the end of the 600/700 row of boats. We recalled that our old acquaintance Kathryn had been a resident at the fuel dock for a bit, but had left under circumstances unknown. Arriving there, we ran into Curtis Collins, one of the Ala Wai Yacht Brokerage boat brokers. We chatted with him for a while about how to resolve our boating predicament and he gave us the sage advice of someone that'd been stuck in the situation several times. Apparently he'd run into trouble with the harbormaster also. His name was mysteriously dropped from the list through no fault of his own. Such weird things happen in the office of the harbormaster. Some people get slips, other people don't.

One additional bit of info we learned from Curtis, is that the harbormaster is really cracking down on liveaboards at the fuel dock. The fuel dock is not supposed to allow liveaboards, but some have slipped through in the past. When we spoke to Carey, the manager of the fuel dock, she confirmed that the state has sent people to spy on the slips with binoculars. As such she has had to be firm with kicking out anyone that tries to live aboard there. Furthermore, she knew that Eric and I were liveaboards on our boat. Thus, she was very apprehensive about offering us a slip.

We received a short tour of the slips at the fuel dock. She found a few 15A plugs here or there that a boat could hook up to, but no 30A plugs. If we parked our boat there, we could not live there, and we'd have to find some electrical adapters. Furthermore, the boats had to be tied to a couple anchors of questionable quality. I'd seen the boats bashing together during the recent storm. People were running to and fro to reset the anchors. The fuel dock just was not a viable solution. We needed a place where we could stay on board. While chatting with people at the fuel dock, we learned that Kathryn's dog Roxy had gotten her into trouble everywhere she goes. Between the barking and eating food off people's plates, that cute little dog had been a real pain in the neck. Poor doggie.

Before heading over to the Waikiki Yacht Club, we decided to take a quick survey of the empty slips in the harbor. And by quick, I mean taking a picture of each one individually and noting the location on a paper. Given that there are almost 700 berths for boats to dock or tie up to, this really wasn't a quick process. So it went, every now and then we'd stop to take a picture, note the location, take a picture, note the location. Some of the locations didn't even have numbers and we resorted to giving its approximate location with 'mauka' or 'makai'--Hawaiian words that indicate whether it was more toward the mountain or ocean.

We weaved around all of the docks that were accessible. We couldn't visit the B,C,D docks as they were under construction. However, a quick look over the fence confirmed that most of those docks were empty.

Totaled, and not including the construction docks, we counted 63 vacant slips. If we included the docks under construction there would probably be more than 120 vacant slips. Such a large numbers of vacant slips seems ludicrous. Sure, a handful of owners might be on a trip, or day sail. But I've received reports from numerous people of slips sitting vacant for months or years. When someone buys a boat, they are kicked out of the slip. If someone is late for a payment like the person that was in slip 654, they are kicked out of a slip. For that particular case, they weren't even allowed to remain in the slip under a transient permit. Nope, they had to move to the 700 row transient slips. Their slip has sat vacant for weeks now.

Eventually we reached the far side of the harbor, passed through the vacant marine work yard, and arrived at the threshold of the Waikiki Yacht Club. Now, the Hawaii Yacht Club is somewhat affordable at $600 initiation fee, $660 annual dues plus $25/month food/beverage costs. I call that somewhat affordable given when the Waikiki Yacht Club charges. The WYC is anything but affordable. The WYC initiation fee is $2000 and the annual dues are $1380. Additionally there is required $40/month charge for food/beverage. Furthermore, the WYC will not give companion benefits unless the couple is legally married. The lady working at the gift shop gave us the cell number for the new port captain, a female this time. We rang the number and were rebuffed, being told that we should submit our details via email or through the voicemail number she provided. Apparently the boutique lady shouldn't be giving out that number. Oops!

Eric and I decided to step out for a bit of refreshments at Don Quixote. Shortly therafter, we returned for our scheduled meeting with Robbie at the Hawaii Yacht Club. Entering, we happened to notice Captain Tiffany, a real wild girl, passing through. We used to be moored next to her on the 700 row. At her boisterous new year's party that year I'd heard guys peeing off her stern at least six times. If you weren't careful, you might even catch a glimpse of her naked, or of someone having sex in the v-berth. That's the trouble with boats, some of them don't have enough headroom and you find someone's head poking up through the front hatch making interesting noises.

Anyhow, oh yes, the meeting. We met Robbie with a firm handshake. He led us to a seat at the table and told us about the Hawaii Yacht Club. We all looked over the membership application and price list. He suggested that we might qualify for a lower cost as an associate member since we had "out of state" id's. I looked askance at him at that comment. Both Eric and I had Hawaii driver's licenses. However, the id's had the big island addresses still, so as far as they were concerned, that was out of state enough. Hell, tell that to the guy's in the transportation division who named the highway an "inter-state". It doesn't even connect the same state.

The port captain seemed fairly eager to have us join. When we'd run out of questions, he encouraged us to walk around and explore the facilities. Eric and I walked around. The area is certainly an idyllic place. The lower room opens out to an expansive view of the harbor. Gleaming boats, well maintained facilities--it was all so nice. Eric could tell that I was enjoying myself. We looked around, checking the locations of power connectors, and reading all the signs and notices around. There was a very interesting boat that was carrying some sort of vessel that could power through the water partially submerged. We also saw the little Duffy electric touring boat. Back at the building, there was a bar on the ground floor, an open kitchen for members, a large area with seating both inside and out. It all seemed like a great place to take a book and sit down for a few hours of study or relaxation. The outside world seemed to melt away past the entry doors. Even the city traffic noise seemed to be kept at bay.

We toured the kitchen, and took a peek in the fridge. We found a workspace out back next to the small sail-craft storage. Upstairs we found the restaurant where we would likely be spending that $25/month they would charge for food if we were members. The waitress greeted us. Eric told her that the port captain had told us to walk around and tour the place. He asked if he could see the kitchen, and the waitress joked, "Oh yeah, go ahead, see what happens." Realizing she wasn't serious, we decided not to poke around in the restaurant's kitchen. We checked out their lunch and dinner menus. Unfortunately, as expected, the restaurant didn't have much in the way of vegan foods. However, at the prices listed we could go through the $25 for the month in one meal.

Back downstairs we chatted with the receptionist. I asked if we could see the list of rules and policies. She said the closest thing they had to that was the bylaws, but the hard copy she had was out of date. She advised us to look at their website for the current version. Eric and I pestered her with various questions and she did a nice job in trying to answer us. She gave us a little tour through some of the areas on the ground floor. She suggested that we not to leave expensive food in the fridge since it was open to everyone. She explained what events occured, and showed us the huge grill in the yard. She was very proud of their little place of heaven.

As much as I wanted to drop an application there on the spot, I didn't feel that it would solve our immediate problems. The membership process takes a month to complete. They actually post a picture of potential members on the wall and allow comments from the existing members. We'd have to be sponsored by two people, but that's not a problem at all. I know plenty of HYC members and even the port captain volunteered to be one of our sponsors. The cost of parking our slip there was nearly three times the cost of the state harbor, and that number didn't include the cost of dues and food. Ah, well there was the problem wasn't it. Probably some day I'll become a member. With a sigh, we left the sweet setting of the Hawaii Yacht Club and entered the real world.

Figuring that the harbormaster wouldn't tow us out to sea, I opted to wait till the next morning to let them know our progress, or lack thereof. They were about to close anyway.