In The Middle of the Pacific Ocean

E and I flew to Kona with K to deposit her at a Waikoloa condo in preparation for our fishing trip to Kiritimati, an island that is part of the Republic of Kiribati and the largest atoll in the world.  It is a three hour flight, more or less south from Honolulu.  The convoluted international Date Line is crossed on the way.

The date line crossing was difficult to wrap my mind around. The time zone on Kiritimati is GMT -14 hours. Hawaii is GMT + 10 hours, so when you leave HNL and arrive at CXI, it is the same time but one day later.  The coolest thing about the date line is on the way home: you depart the future and arrive in the past, or leave today and arrive yesterday, or you departed tomorrow and arrived today.  The Fiji Air flight first class was nice, it was supposed to be a 737 MAX 8, but was an older 737 instead.  The CXI (Cassidy International Airport) terminal building is brand new.

Not a MAX 8

About to Land on Christmas Island

The Police Station was one of the nicer buildings along the highway

Details of the new terminal construction

Christmas Island is part of a third world country made up of far flung islands spread across thousands of square miles of the Pacific Ocean. They have little ability to manage waste or provide clean drinking water.  Food is mostly imported and unhealthy.  Flour, sugar and rice contribute to health problems such as diabetes.  They have health services, but little access to antibiotics and other drugs. From what I saw, there are no old men on the island and all the men smoke tobacco rolled in pandanus leaves.

The people are friendly and appreciative of the generosity of visitors and are certain to return any generosity.  We packed an extra suitcase of school supplies, some shoes, clothes, and as it turned out extra fishing gear.

I have fished for bonefish at Anaeho'omalo Bay, Big Island, HI for way more hours than I would like to admit.  I have seen  large bonefish there and caught 1/2 a dozen other species, but never hooked a bone.  At Christmas Island I hooked and landed a fish on the first "cast".  I threw my fly in the water and started stripping line to get to the ready position.  A small bone took the fly and the curse was broken.

The learning curve was steep with several conditions to overcome; seeing fish in the varying light and bottom composition, constant wind up to 20 mph, converting the guide's "20 Ft" into a distance I could estimate, getting the feel for the take and managing the line as the fish screams away at 40 mph.  Most importantly, realizing that setting the hook with 15 lb tippet is not the same as for Snook or SMB with 30 lb tippet.  I can break 15 lb tippet.  Seeing fish before the guide was confidence building until you realize that he was pointing to a different fish that was a better shot at the moment.

Fishing is really all about fashion

E was more interested in adventure than fishing.  The first day she went to the local pre-K school and helped with numbers and letters for a few hours.  She then found a bicycle to explore London, the biggest town just a couple of miles from The Villages where we stayed.  She spent the first evening working out a lesson plan for the next day and employed Colin, the only other fisherman for the week to come up with English language rhymes for the kids.  Poor Colin ("Col" a Brit who has lived in Australia for many years) had to get out of bed at 2 am and write down the rhymes that spun his mind into a sleepless state.

E was also invited to Bingo which is maybe the biggest form of entertainment on the island.  The cards are completely different from what we know and the numbers are called in the local language.  E's friend sat with her in the middle of the maneaba to help with the translation.  After bingo many locals recognized her as she explored the island sites.

E continued her island exploration with the goal of finding whatever was unique in the way of locally made goods.  She rather quickly found a woman named Tebringia (sp) at the Triple Tee (sort of a Home Depot), who made the colorful embroidered clothes that many of the island woman wear.  Needless to say we all have new shirts and our child has a couple new dresses.  Col's grandchildren will also have new shirts.

On the way to Farer Price after Triple T

E also found Denise, one of the workers at The Villages who is from Fanning Isand, a small atoll to the north.  Cruise ships used to stop there and the locals were skilled at making and selling puka shell bracelets.  The first one was torn from her ankle by the surf while looking for shells on a completely deserted beach on the ocean side.  Many locals were surprised and concerned about her solo adventures to the beach.



E did go fishing one day.  I anticipated that she would use the spinning gear I brought, but Bob the guide took charge and grabbed my spare fly gear.  It was a 9' 10Wt with a 15' tapered leader meant as an alternate for trigger fish and mistakenly rigged with a 12 wt line.  He had her casting and catching in short order.  It was her first time with a fly rod.  The guide told her to hold the rod in her teeth for the photo.  I am glad she didn't know what he meant.

One of E's Bonefish

Fishing ended early one day.  E, three woman from The Villages and I hopped into a "pickup" truck for a quest to find locally produced sea salt.  The salt is one of the three main exports, seaweed and aquarium fish are the other two.  After two failed inquires at local shops, we found the warehouse where salt from the ponds on the other side of the island is packaged for shipment to Japan.  We bought two, one Kilo bags of large crystals ($5AUS ea.) and grabbed a crystal from the plastic holding tubs that probably weighed 30 grams.  The other women grabbed crystals for themselves and nibbled them on the way home.

Cool painting that tells a lot about the process

One kilo bags

Me with a big rock of salt

On the way back we stopped at the London Kava bar.  I was hoping to get some powder, but the place wasn't open.  We were able to tour this oceanside watering hole.  My suspicions on the safety of the local brew were confirmed.  A 20 gallon plastic trash can served as the mixing bowl which looked like it has never been cleaned.  A 9 or 10 year old boy was sweeping leaves from the sand floor of the bar so I grabbed another "broom" and helped him for a few minutes.

On the last day fishing was rained out in the morning.  E, Col and I jumped in Bob the head guide's van and went to London to pickup my shirt and pay a $1 debt that E had at a shop.  Col failed in his search to procure a printer for the school, but did figure out the type of printer cartridges available, so I am sure he will bring one from Australia next fall.  We also mailed a post card to ourselves which was not as simple as one might expect.

Eating Tuna in my new shirt

During the ride Col told me the story about "Charlie" our boatman.  Typically at the last flats walk of the day Col would offer his guide the use of his fly rod to catch yellow snapper and other species for Tea (dinner).  Charlie had a rod, a 3' broken off tip from something much longer, but no hooks or line, so he couldn't fish.  I planned for E to use spinning tackle when she fished so I had a good assortment of hooks, line, jigs and sinkers.  I packed up this gear in a small cooler I used as a boat bag during the week. I left it for Col to give to Charlie the next day.  I hope Charlie has enough gear to catch fish for "Tea" until we return.

The Boat man and our guides

The last night a woman treated us to her amazing karaoke voice, singing Dolly Parton and other Real Country classics. This was followed by some traditional dancing by the staff women. My wife joined in the popular music dancing that followed. Two other men who were guests at the lodge joined in. Col and I were relieved that we were not dragged out onto the dance floor.

This experience was emotionally overwhelming at times.  From the extreme poverty to the sincere gratitude and happiness that the locals portray, to the vastness of the flats ecosystem and the wildlife within, this is a place unique to the world.  I added the Bonefish, Queen fish and Giant (12") Trevally to my fly fishing species list.

My wife really enjoyed her visit and made friends with everyone she met.  We were provided with a papaya and many coconuts when she expressed her love for island produce. We were taught how to crack a coconut without tools and how to efficiently extract the meat from the shell.  The tuna sashimi was the best we have ever had.  We "showered" with bottled and filtered water.  And somehow we managed to remain "regular". We couldn't have asked for a better time.

On the way home my layover at HNL was interrupted by pandemonium that followed "gunfire" at the bag check area.  I was first in line to board when people started screaming and running through the terminal.  People dropped their Starbucks and hid behind anything they could.  I grabbed a metal pole and was prepared to use some metal shelving as a shield.  Others ran down the jetway as gate agents tried in vain to secure the aircraft.

I spent an anxious 5 minutes or so waiting for the shooter to come to our gate.  It became clear that our demise was not imminent.  My brain was fried from my first experience being in a crowd where the reaction to an active shooter situation was real, but thankfully unwarranted. It was very sad to see how many people were in effect sitting ducks with no real ability to run, hide or fight.

We boarded the plane expecting to depart since the security breach was at a different part of the terminal. Unfortunately we were forced to evacuate.  Luckily I was served a double vodka on the rocks that I carried off the plane and into the Honolulu airport sunshine to wait for the terminal to reopen.

Waiting for HNL to reopen

It turned out that one or two laptops exploded in the bag check area.  Since people ran past the TSA checkpoint into the secured area the entire airport was evacuated and a security sweep was conducted.  About three hours later I was able to shuffle through TSA again and board for LAX, well past the time to make my connection to MSP.  I made it home about 8 hours later than planned but at a more convenient time for pickup.

E and K continued their Big Island visit for a while longer.  After taking care of the garden and a few other things around the house, the cat and I went to the Cabin in the Woods to escape the coming heat wave and do some fishing.

A visitor to The Cabin in the Woods