When we left off, Neil and Maggie were adrift with the dolphins. Maggie continued to barf, destroying previous hypotheses presented by all on the boat that being in the water would eradicate the motion-sickness. The captain summoned Maggie back to the boat, and pulled her from the water. Neil continued to swim with the dolphins for another 15 minutes or so. Once all were aboard, the captain approached Maggie and avoided eye contact while he started speaking in a hushed voice,
"Ms. Maggie, I am going to have to ask you to swim to shore. I have never asked anyone to do this before in 15 years on this tourboat, but your barfing is disturbing the others and I fear that you are too sick to stay with us. I am going to take us up to Makaha Beach and you are going to have to swim through the surf break to shore."
Maggie looked at him and without hesitation and stated, "I will do anything to get on solid ground right now."
So, the captain took us to Makaha Beach, a popular leeward surf location, and the crew strapped on my flippers and instructed me to swim to shore. At the last minute, the captain decided that Maggie looked like she might drown swimming the quarter mile to shore through a huge surf break, so he sent the marine biologist alongside me. The swim was crazy given the large surf that day, but before Maggie knew it she was being spit onto the sand after body-riding a huge wave. The marine biologist waved goodbye and swam back out to the boat. At that point, Maggie assumed that she was just going to have to find some shade on the beach and wait for Neil to finish the tour and come find her. However, she could hear the captain yelling over the loudspeaker, "Don't be afraid of Paul! He is here to help!"
"What?" Maggie thought. "Who is Paul?"
At that exact moment, a leather-skinned, shirtless, shoeless man wearing a huge Hawaiian fishook necklace appeared and leaned over her, blocking the sun. The man had long, white hair and a scraggly white beard. He wore broken aviator sunglasses and tattered surf shorts. He seemed to be in his seventies, though it was clear that many years in the sun had aged him past his chronological years. This was Paul.
Maggie soon learned that Paul is a friend of the captain. Paul has lived on the Wainae Coast of Oahu for about 30 years....as in, he is homeless and LIVES on the Wainae Coast. This is not terribly unusual, as there is a large homeless population that lives on the leeward beaches, though most of those folks are native Hawaiian. Paul is a haole (white guy).
Paul greeted Maggie by sticking out a grizzled, rough hand and saying "Hey there little lady! The cap radioed me and let me know that there was a damsel in distress out here. I'll give you a ride down to the boat dock. Don't be scared, I won't rape you." (WHAT?????)
Maggie was pretty much completely disheveled and disoriented and thus took Paul's hand and said, "You are an angel. Thank you....Paul. I am glad that you are not going to rape me. I will hold you to that promise."
Paul escorted Maggie across the beach to his old, seventies era orange (and rust) truck. The back of the truck was full of random buckets, pieces of wood, tupperware, and broken furniture. Also in the back were two scrappy pit bulls who were tied with thick rope to the frame of the truck. As Maggie approached, the dogs salivated and whined, straining at their collars and tripping over the rubbage in the truck in attempts to get closer to her. The truck doors did not have handles. Paul used some sort of tool to jimmy open the passenger door and bowed with his hand outstretched toward the seat.
"My lady.....your throne," he said, gesturing into the truck.
Maggie climbed into the cab, which was full of random books and papers, food trash, and clothes. The vinyl had worn completely off the seat, which was now foam and springs with a plaid shirt spread over it. Paul returned to the back of the truck, and unearthed a cooler. He pulled out a container of lomi lomi (salmon, basically), some dip, potato chips, and a beer and then climbed into the driver's seat. After offering chips and dip to Maggie, he opened the window to the back, and the dogs slobbery heads immediately plunged into the cab, breathing heavily on Maggie's cheek and neck. Paul cracked open the lomi lomi and began messily feeding it to the dogs. He offered the container to Maggie, but it was unclear if he wanted her to feed the dogs or try some herself. The gesture became clear when he scooped a palmful into his hand and ate it. "You try! It's great," he clarified. "You know, Paul...I am pretty sick and I don't think that's a good idea," Maggie replied.
On the ride to the dock, Paul sipped his beer (yes, while driving) and ate his chips and dip while pouring his life story out onto Maggie. He described how he originally moved to Hawaii for a woman ("Best and worst damn thing that I ever did," he said) who was in the navy. Paul reported that he was so in love with this woman that he finally "cleaned up", "stopped boozing", and got a job for the first time in his life. However, after 4 short months of what Paul described as pure happiness, he came home one day to find this woman in bed with another man. Dejected, Paul did not put up a fight. He was broke, and didn't know a soul in Hawaii, but he was stuck here. He decided to make the best of it and move onto the leeward beach, and he has been there ever since. He described how he eventually bought a small sailboat (who knows where the money came from) and sailed the south pacific with his buddies (a period he referred to as his "sailing years"). He empathized with Maggie's sickness, explaining that he once got so sick on his ship in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle (which, by the way, is NOT in the south pacific and thereby calling into question the validity of this whole tale) that he threw up for 3 days and nearly shot himself in the head in agony ("I'd rather be in a firestorm in 'nam then be sea sick again"). Paul also disclosed the pain and agony of being a "political prisoner", which overlapped with his story about Vietnam. Maggie tried to clarify by asking if he was a political prisoner in Vietnam, though quickly realized that "political prisoner" was really just "prisoner" and he was referring to time spent in Halawa (this big state pen here in Hawaii).
"I did something that didn't agree to much with our government of the U.S. of A. back in the early 80s and had to do my time, if you know what I mean. Not a bad deal though, I read Crime and Punishment 10 times and got 3 square meals a day," Paul explained.
Maggie did not ask if the thing he did that did not agree with our government was raping young women in his old, filthy truck. She did not even want to know his crime at this point.
Paul seemed happy enough to be living on the coast. He said that he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. He told her that his Social Security check went to his PO Box, and that he lived just fine with his two dogs in this truck, and that he would be happy to give Maggie a personal tour of Wainae anytime she wanted. Paul was actually quite endearing after 20 minutes of hearing his completely insane life story. As we pulled up to the boat docks, Maggie almost wanted to hug Paul out of thanks for the ride and the chips and the interesting story....but of course she did not. That might have given him the wrong idea, and also....he was covered in salmon juice and hadn't really bathed in years.
Paul helped Maggie from the truck and gave her a cold Sprite and a handful of chips. "Eat those, so you don't get dehydrated, my dear, " he advised. Maggie collapsed onto a small patch of rough grass under a tree in the parking lot. Paul walked to the front of his car and rested his hand on a huge rhinocerous-looking horn strapped with rope to the grill. "If you ever need help out here in Wainae, you know where to find me! Just look for the horniest car on the coast, " he said while chuckling and climbing back into the cab. Maggie groaned. Gross. As he pulled away he yelled, "The only thing hornier is the driver!" Grosser yet.
Maggie laid on the grass for about 30 more minutes before Neil appeared after finishing his adventure. He excitedly reported that they had taken him to another cove near the resorts where he swam with a large number of sea turtles. He said that the warm water in this area attracted them, and that they came there to have the fish eat the stuff growing on their shells. He described swimming above and with one turtle who looked him directly in the eye and seemed completely unperturbed by his presence. Maggie wished she could have experienced the turtles, but enjoyed reporting on her insane afternoon with Paul, the Horny Hawaiian Haole.
Afterward, we drove home, laughing and piecing together the narrative for this adventure. Maggie felt much better after only 45 minutes of being on solid ground, and we went home to shower and nap before a big birthday dinner at Roys.
The Wainae Coast. Home of Crazy Paul.
Tired Neil and Maggie Drive Home.
No comments:
Post a Comment