Palmyra Reflections: Mark Logan

How do I start?  Especially, when all I can think of is how I never wanted the voyage to end.  While I have never been fond of saying goodbye, I never felt any apprehension in untying those dock lines and not looking back. 

It was not because we had waited days upon days for the right moment to embark.  I look back with the utmost respect and empathy for those charged to make that call.  It’s a tough position to be in, but ultimately it was the right call and we are fortunate that the Polynesian Voyaging Society attracts the type of individuals who are both willing, and more importantly, qualified to do so.  I commend them for their courage and dedication.

The time was well spent.  I had an opportunity to get to know better many of the crew on both Hōkūle‘a and Kama Hele and the many people, who without their incredible support, this voyage may not have occurred.  One thought, I wish I had pulled more “Anchor Watches.”  What an incredible, low threat, environment to interact with and get to know one another.

Those days were also a most valuable time to get to know the escort vessel.  The Kama Hele has all the systems, inside and out, to perform well in her intended capacity.  But, as with any boat, there is always one more improvement, one more tweak, which if accomplished prior to departure, will make all the difference once at sea.  Those last few days were when I realized I had the good fortune to be in the company of some of the most committed and competent crew members one could encounter.  The individual talents and expertise that each brought to the venture would later prove invaluable.

Confidence in the Kama Hele, its Captain, and crew cannot be understated.  The crew on the canoe and those that wait ashore need to know that should an emergency occur, no matter what, we are going to quickly respond and insure a successful outcome.  I have no doubt that all aboard Kama Hele took that responsibility to heart and would have collectively made it happen or died trying.  So, it was without any hesitation and in clear conscience on my part that I knew we were ready when the decision to sail was made.

Everything fell into place as O‘ahu and the glow of Honolulu disappeared off our stern.  The crew on Kama Hele gelled within a 24-hour watch cycle.  Everyone proved to have unique strengths in one or more essential areas.  In addition, the willingness to learn and assist one another toward a common goal was clearly evident and consistent throughout.  After awhile I found myself thinking, “What is it that could possibly go wrong that this crew and vessel couldn’t handle?”  And so the dream continued uninterrupted all the way to Palmyra.

I had followed the previous exploits of the Hōkūle‘a since its launching at Kualoa in 1976.  I consumed every news report and every magazine article I came across as they voyaged throughout Oceania over the years.  I understood the theory of the ancient ways of navigating without instruments or charts and believed it was possible, but I still held a tiny degree of skepticism.  As we followed Hōkūle‘a south, I witnessed the Navigator/Captain and crew execute their intended course flawlessly.  It was as if the canoe was towing Kama Hele.

We followed, me in amazement, from approximately one to three nautical miles (depending on visibility) off the canoe’s windward stern for days on end.  Our contact consisted of a daily sunrise and sunset VHF radio report that lasted, in most cases, less than 60 seconds.  I listened intently to every radio transmission coming from the canoe.  Not so much for the words said, but more for how they were said.  I was more interested in discerning clues in the tone and inflection of the voice from the canoe that might tell me how they were feeling, how morale was.  I really missed being able to see and interact with each and every one of them as we could prior to departure.

The special moments for me came when the Hōkūle‘a and Kama Hele closed to within a few boat lengths of one another.  These usually occurred during the “Meals-on-Keels” transactions.  It was all hands on deck and cameras at the ready.  I could see their smiling faces and hear the verbal exchanges that reassured me that all was well on board Hōkūle‘a.  Then we’d separate again and assume our escort position.

Kama Hele, her captain, and crew continued functioning as a well oiled machine.  I felt deep pride in being selected to participate in this voyage and considered myself fortunate to be among these exceptional people.  Every one of them rose to the occasion and, to a man, impressed me with their passion for what we were doing and the care and concern displayed for each other.  I could sail with this group forever. 

Then, all too soon, “Land ho!”  Palmyra appeared on the horizon.  While extremely impressed and proud of the Navigator/Captain and crew of Hōkūle‘a for their accomplishment, I also knew that I would not have felt the least bit disappointed if we needed to sail for another week or more in search of land.  After all, isn’t it all about the voyage and not the destination?

Although excited for the return crews, I was saddened that I would be flying back to Honolulu.  My body arrived home safely.  My mind was still out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.  Concern for how the return trip was proceeding consumed my thoughts.  I found my vehicle wanting to drive itself down to the METC on my trips to and from work or home.  On one occasion I found myself driving over the Sand Island Bridge before I realized that Hōkūle‘a and Kama Hele were still several days’ sail away.  I’ve answered my own question.  It’s all about the voyage.

Palmyra proved to be an amazing destination though.  From the outside it has all the trappings of that deserted tropical island that our imaginations hold.  Clear blue water that butt up against a shallow fringe reef and land formations that are no higher than the tallest coconut tree.  Greeted initially by curious sea birds, then escorted by hundreds of dolphins who were replaced by as many melon head whales, we proceeded toward the channel.  It’s not until you’re well into the protected lagoon that you can see evidence of human intervention.  Even so, turtles and manta rays seemed unconcerned by our approach.  By day, huge ulua patrolled only feet from shore only to be replaced by feeding manta rays by night.  The corals and fishes on the reefs appeared diverse and in good health.

In the short time spent exploring the atoll, it became increasingly apparent that the ongoing effort to protect Palmyra was seeing success in reversing any damage sustained from humans in the preceding decades.  Proof positive that if a small endeavor by a few can achieve this level of positive impact, imagine what a concerted effort by the many could produce for the rest of our planet.

I look forward now with great anticipation as preparations for the Worldwide Voyage (WWV) commence.  The training voyage to Palmyra provided a great foundation off which to springboard into what will prove to be a worthwhile undertaking.  I believe the intended goals and objectives to be well worth the effort that is required to make such an endeavor.  I’m personally committed to assisting in any capacity required mainly because of my exposure to the mana of Hōkūle‘a and even more importantly due to the indelible impression made by the each and every individual involved.