A WHITE RAVEN…

As the ancient sailors once avowed on their long ocean journeys to the ends of the Earth, “There be monsters here”. Monsters, or simply unexplained phenomena? All things are strange and mysterious until they have been explained to our satisfaction. Judge for yourself in the following story, based on an actual experience on ‘Molokai of the Powerful Prayers’. [Note: this is excerpted from my book ‘Marooned on Moloka’i: Coconuts, Dreams and Death’, ISBN 978–0–692–94448–6.]

May 3rd (Tuesday)

It’s hot, muggy, and slightly overcast. The sea is choppy and the wind arrives and departs with small, unenthusiastic gasps. I’m reduced to my last ‘Diet Coke with Lime’, as I forlornly scan the blazingly hot horizon for a friendly sail. If they don’t find us before tomorrow on this lonely, desolate spit of land, we’re goners. Oops. Wrong journal, wrong scenario (takes another slug of Diet Coke, notes ripe smegmatic aroma rising from unwashed shorts, and finds the OTHER journal to continue narrative in…).

Left 90-year-old old Romero to enjoy the cool breezes that drift through the covered walkway that separates Blanca’s home from the semi-detached room I stay in and took the car out to the east end of the island this afternoon. Had the strangest experience out there. Having told Gunter I missed seeing the old Ilio’ilio Pae Heiau at about Mile Marker 15.5, I acted on his advice that…