How to: Leave Hawaii

Sometimes y'gotta fly the coop…

If you can make Hawaii work, and I think the wife and I have, it spoils you quite a bit. Hard to drum up the motivation to get the hell out of Dodge, the best places are more of a lateral move than improvement on current circumstances.

I know a lot of guys bail to Bali during the Summer months, but since I’ve gone full retard on the freediving and spearo kick flat spells don’t bother me much. It’s actually been a problem this Summer, haven’t been able to hit my favorite holes ‘cuz the surf’s been too good.

I’m in the process of preparing for my first surf trip in ages. I leave the islands fairly frequently, but never for surf.

Why bother? If I want warm water barrels I can drive to ’em, no need to board a plane.

But I got offered a free trip to Nicaragua, and there’s no way I’m turning that down. It’s really the only thing I miss about living in California, quick and easy jaunts to Central America. Also, In & Out.

First, a few days in LA, to break up the trip. The quickest “direct” jaunt from Kauai to Managua would have taken me 26 hours. Fuck that noise, I’ll do three days at my parents’ house before flying South.

Just a few things left to do before I leave.

Finish cleaning the house: Since I’m forsaking my wifely duties for a bit I need to get the homestead in a state nearing clean. I can’t stand returning to a filthy home, and I know the missus won’t lift a finger while I’m gone. No doubt she’ll be too busy struggling to stay afloat in a sea of dicks.

Find my passport: It’s around here, somewhere, I’m sure. It had better be.

To bring a board or not? Such a hassle, way too expensive. Hitting two different airlines on the way there and back, it’ll run me around $500, round trip, to bring a single board. Highway fucking robbery is what that is.

But I’ve got my boards dialed, and I’d hate to get a solid run of waves without something under me that works.  Decisions, decisions. Probably just head down with a pair of flippers and hope there’s something for sale that works for my fat ass.

Buy condoms: Rubbers fucking suck, no way I’m wearing them with my wife. But I used to keep a stash around. You never know when you’re gonna trip and fall dick first into some warm pussy.

Which is exactly what happened on our last trip to Nica. We spent a month there in 2004, got utterly skunked for surf. No big deal, it’s a cool country. Instead traveled inland, saw a bunch of sights we’d have missed had it been going off.

We met an attractive Australian couple about our age. Linked up and hung together, always nice to have another pair along for the ride, if for no reason than to cut down on arguments. Which happen on couples trips. Stress and exhaustion in a new place, one of you is gonna blow up at the other.

A few days in the woman I’d later marry said, “I think they want to have sex with us.”

She was right.

A night on Ometepe, a ton of very cheap rum, and a women’s softball team from the great white North, turned a late night skinny dip into a very fond memory. Trying to push my semi-flaccid member into an overweight French Canadian girl’s asshole was fun.

Waking up with a crippling hangover, awash in the stench of a handful of different pussy,  was not.