Here today, gone to Maui

I keep track of where I’ve lived by checking the dates on my resume.  I’ve kept them all, just for this reason. According to my records, my first move to Maui was in 1988ish.

Why Maui? 

Why not? 

I’d tired of living in San Diego and was waiting for the universe to tell me what was next.  I got the message one sunny Sunday afternoon in a bar down on the boardwalk in Pacific Beach. My roommate and I were doing shots of tequila in the smoky, dimly lit, mostly empty barroom, when the bartender mentioned she was going to Maui in a few weeks. As I planted my empty shot glass back onto the bar, I said, me too.

The next day I found a one-way ticket to Maui for $126. Woohooo!!! (Super glad I found it so cheap, that left me with about $300 for when I got there.)

I packed my Datsun 510, drove home to Marin County, gave my sister the car, put everything I needed into my brand new back pack, and packed my bike into a box. 

I can’t actually remember what my family said at the time, I was too excited about where I was gonna go. I’d never been to Maui, and as this was pre-internet, I went to the library and looked it up so I’d have an idea of where I was going. 

What I do remember are the two parting gifts I was given. Knives. My uncle Sandy gave me one of those mini, green, key-chain Swiss Army Knives, which at the time, I could even take on the plane with me. My dad gave me a bigger red one. Where did they think I was going? What did they think I was going to do? 

Turns out, three weeks later when I landed, those knives came in handy. I had a flat tire on my bike upon arrival, so I pulled out my handy dandy tools and fixed it. Then I started riding towards Lahaina but it was really far, so when a truck pulled over and the local guy asked me if I wanted a ride, I tossed the bike in and off we went. 

That night, feet dragging from exhaustion, I found a beach outside of town called canoe beach.  I figured it was because there were canoes there. I was correct. With the help of my big red knife I dug a hole and buried my backpack under one of the upside down canoes, wrapped myself up in my blanket, and went to sleep. I woke up sometime during the night to see the tide had come in and was a few inches from my feet…too tired to care, I went back to sleep.

In the morning I woke up to a dog digging my backpack out for me, and people already sunning on the beach. I shooed him off, grabbed my stuff, and went in search of…whatever. Luckily, I met another group of savvy locals who told me about Maui Beach Cruisers, old rental cars that have rusted out and been sold to whoever was desperate enough. I fit that bill. I picked up another Datsun 510, this time for $225, almost my entire wad of cash, but at least I had a car, right?

Sort of. The locals told me about Camp Olowalu, a few miles south of Lahaina, where I, along with travelers from all around the world, paid $3 per night to sleep on the beach, and shower under the open sky. 

Those knives came in handy again when my ancient little Maui Cruiser, which now doubled as my closet and shelter when it rained, broke down one day on my way home. They also opened cans of tuna, cut bread, and plucked my eyebrows. 

I still have them both, and have never traveled without them again. I almost lost one after 9/11 when the rules changed and you could no longer carry a knife on board. I was late for my flight and they confiscated it. I thought. I found out later the one I lost was a newer one, so I let it go, but a friend, hearing of my loss, sent me a newer, bigger, even better one to add to my collection.

Swiss army knives rock. I still have my two original knives. They’ve dismantled engines for me, fixed plumbing in my RV, and they still open my cans of tuna.

BTW...I've been back to Camp Olowalu, the last time in 2007, and the cost for a staying had gone up to $10 per night.