Hester's Head

A close friend of mine died unexpectedly not long after the Ottawa sailed. The ship permitted me to fly home, but only after some drills. It was planned for Monday, but if there were any difficulties we could try again on Tuesday - I couldn't book my tickets until we were successful. That meant I couldn't book my tickets until Monday afternoon, for Monday evening or maybe Tuesday. Things went well so I went to book my tickets online. Well... Expedia wouldn't let me book tickets for the same day that late in the day. Air Canada doesn't know where Lihue or Kauai is and West Jet gave me a pretty light blue screen and nothing more. So I had to get the ship's office work their magic. Well.... My flight was just under $2000, and I had to leave before my e-ticket showed up.
So I head to the airport. I attempt the easy check in (it's the only choice if you fly United) but am told (by the computer display) to pick up the phone. The guy on the other end seems satisfied that I don't have an e-ticket and am told to go to the regular check-in. There are staff there (because the easy check-in isn't easy) who try to help me. And help me. And help me. Easy check-in is the only option. They try it and find out I don't have an e-ticket. Maybe they didn't hear me when I said that. They want my paper ticket, but there's no way I have one of those. The line-up is completely gone now - just me and the three attendants. One of the attendants goes in the back and phones United herself. And is put on hold - forever. A couple with two wee babies shows up, but they can't get checked in until they return their rental car. The staff told me that they probably wouldn't make the flight, but I still would. Uh huh. Sure. 8:55. The family come back, it didn't take them too long, and then they were gone too. I ask if it would be easier if I cancelled my ticket and bought a new one. They agree and try to get me a new one. The best they can do is the next night. I tell them I can do better than that. They cancel my ticket, recommend a hotel, and off I go. Something weird about the airport in Lihue though. It seems it's old. The guys who x-ray your checked baggage weren't considered when they built the place? After checking your bags and getting the tags you have to carry it over to a roped off area in front of half the counters. They x-ray it, do their thing and they put it on the conveyor belt behind the check-in. When all the ladies were gone I was left all alone talking to these three guys. After cancelling my flight the one lady went to tell the other lady, the one still on hold, to hang up. That was it. I had to go because they couldn't help me anymore. They had worked a double shift and were leaving at 9. See ya.
So I get a room at the Garden Island Hotel - in the muggiest room on the planet. I closed the patio doors and tried to close all the windows. I discovered the next morning that I had missed one. I cranked the air conditioner up to high, but the air is so thick that the a/c has a range of about three feet and it took over an hour for the room to become bearable. The antenna for the wireless internet was on balcony so I was good to go. I used my laptop in my room to book a flight for early the next morning (for $1100 less than what the ship could do), emailed the ship, had a shower, went to bed, got up the next morning, had a shower, and left.
I went to the Beach Hut and had some breakfast - with 'Jack' - the spitting image of my little black cat. What's with all the wild kittens here? I've seen a dozen kittens and not one cat. Kittens come from cats, not kittens. Where are the cats? This little wild guy was very nervous - just like Jack. Until you got your food - then he was bumping into your feet and circling around. I mean banging into your feet. I was sitting on a stool and it was like he was taking a run at my feet he was hitting me that hard. He even meows loudly at the ladies behind the counter - it's like a burger stand. I dropped a piece of egg on the floor and he was on it like a cougar. He did look very healthy though. From there I walked across the highway (probably the highway, but not really. Kauai really doesn't have highways. Just long streets that circle the island) I went to the Helicopter Tours place to figure out how to get to the airport. He said it's not like New York City where you just hail a cab as he started through the yellow pages. First was "Anytime Taxi." He said it should change its name to "Sometimes Taxi." "Not this time" is more accurate as no one answered. It only took one more call though and I was sitting beside the highway waiting for a taxi to head off to the airport. Not before sprinting back across the highway to get my duffel bag I had left with Jack at the Beach Hut. Oops.
If you are flying from Hawaii to the mainland your checked bags have to go through an x-ray machine before it even gets in the terminal. Something to do with the agriculture department. They asked me if I was flying to Honolulu. I said yes. They said they would check my bag there. I said ok and went to get my tickets. It went much smoother this time - all I had to do was show them my ID and they found everything else. They told me to go back and get my bag x-rayed. I told them that they had said I didn't need to do that. The counter guy said I did. So I went back. I was asked "are you flying to the mainland? I said no, I was flying to Vancouver. They said I didn't need to do it then. I said ok. I went back to the counter. The counter guy said I had to get it x-rayed. I told them that I had tried twice. The lady behind the counter grabbed my bag and took it herself. I asked if I was going to Seattle or Vancouver. They said Seattle. I said "oh" and ran after the lady with my bag, yelling at her to tell them that I had made the mistake. My bag got x-rayed and she carried it back and threw it on the conveyor herself. I made it to the plane with no other problems. I was wearing socks and sandals - of course - and it turns out that is the perfect way to fly. You have to take off your shoes and send them through the x-ray machine. I was glad to have socks on
I got on the airplane and put on my ipod just as the lady got on the mike (what are they called?) to give us directions. The seating was open, so I took the second row, and just as I was putting my earphones in she said, looking right at me, that all headphones, electronic devices, etc had to be turned off. At least she was smiling. My flight was at 9, we left at 8:50. Hawaiians don't mess around. The flight was very short and I had four hours to spend in Honolulu. I tried to get on the Waikiki Beach shuttle and head downtown for a bit. I had seen something about a Hawaiian-cream-filled-doughnut-like-thing on TV and wanted to find them. The guy at the bus asked me where I wanted to go. I said downtown. Where downtown? I don't know. I asked him about the doughnut. It was not a surprise when he had no idea what I was talking about. I said I had a couple hours before my flight. He asked when my flight was and who I was flying with and then recommended I go the Northwest lounge, get a coffee and read. I said ok. He told me to get on the Wiki-Wiki airport shuttle. I asked him where I can catch it. He said "that way." "That way?" "Yes." So I walked that way until the Wiki-Wiki shuttle drove by me. I ran back to where it stopped - which was almost where I started, and got on the shuttle just as it was pulling away. I went to check out the duty free - but what's really the point when you can't bring liquids or gels on the plane? Who's buying the booze and all that perfume stuff? But... they asked to see my boarding pass before I could go in. Because I was flying to Seattle and then Victoria I couldn't go in. They told me I had to do my shopping in Seattle. "Can I go in and look around?" "No." "What if I don't have time in Seattle to go to the duty free?" "I don't know." "Okidoki." I went and got myself a Starbucks. There was "Lani Moo's Tropical Treats" right beside it so I went there too. I asked them what they had for breakfast. "Breakfast? We have hot dogs." They did - they were spinning around. I said that maybe I would come back later. She said ok. I sat down nearby and hooked up to the internet. People like people using their laptops I think - people asked me how new was my laptop, who was my ISP, how long did my battery last, was I hooked up to the internet, how do I do that. I wonder if this is similar to owning a Volkswagen Bug? I did that for a while (to write some of this) and then decided to go find my gate because it wasn't indicated on my ticket. I pretended to fake out the two ladies in front of the duty free shop - they more than just flinched. I said I was just kidding as they had already kicked me out. They smiled. I think I could've made it past them, but who knows how long I would've stayed in the store, or if I would've been allowed on my flight.
I sat in the lounge waiting for my flight. Hawaii is one of those places where the airport is built out over the water - not many places you can look out the window past all the aircraft and see tanker ships sailing by. I had shut down my computer and boarding was getting underway when I was called to the counter by Narushi. It turns out they want to see my passport. I asked Cindy, also Japanese, if I was going to get on the plane. Her reply was somewhat comforting, "Yes you are, but let me try again," as she walked away with my passport and boarding pass. They asked me if I had any checked bags. Yes, just the one. I checked the single bag only because I didn't want to have to buy new shave gel, after shave, shampoo and shower soap when I got home. I checked a shaving kit in a backpack in a duffel bag. I'm not sure if buying new stuff for four days at home would have been that painful after all.
I'm now on the plane and the adventure refuses to end. NWA airline hostesses (what do they call them now?) are trained to answer your questions in the negative.
"Would you like something to eat?"
"Do you have sandwiches?"
"We don't have any sandwiches."
"What do you have?"
"We have food."
"Ok, I'll have some food then. What do you have?"
"We have turkey sandwiches, vegetarian sandwiches, for $5, a box of (crackers, nuts, cheese, cookies, etc - I don't exactly remember) for $5, Pringles or Sierra Mix, for $2. You can have your choice or all of it."
"Thank you; I'll have the turkey sandwich."
Then twenty minutes later. Please bear in mind that this is a different flight attendant. (That sounds right, is that what they're called now?)
"Do you have anything for a headache?"
"No, but we do have something that's not aspirin. Tylenol or something like that."
"That sounds good, I'll try that."
She wasn't kidding though when she said it wasn't aspirin. It was called "Non-aspirin".
Then... even the trip to the bathroom was interesting. I got up and went forward. The bathroom doors fold in. It said 'vacant' so I pushed it. It didn't budge much. So I pushed it harder. I'm standing at the front of the cabin leaning into the door pushing hard. Well, by at the front I mean as far forward as I was allowed to go - there's a velvet rope barrier preventing me from fouling anything in the first class area. Maybe it's to keep them from coming aft and taunting us? I'm wondering how many fellow passengers in steerage are watching me struggle to get in the bathroom when the door slides open, a Chinese lady sitting on the toilet tells me to quit it and the door slams shut again. Nice. No way am I looking around to see who's watching this. I smile at the two flight attendants cleaning up and wait my turn. The lady never did lock the door.
I finally got a positive answer from flight attendant #3:
"Do you know what time we're landing?"
"Yes."
...
...
"What time are we landing?"
"9:50"
"Thank you."
I was called to the counter again in Seattle. They also wanted to see my passport, but at least they didn't ask about the duffel bag. Of course the duty free wasn't open in Seattle. Nothing was. I had to take three trains (all three trains in the airport) to get from Gate S to Gate C2L. The entire flight was hungry and the only thing open was Wendy's. There was a nice long line-up there. I had one of those wild mountain berry burgers. Why do all burgers in the US seems so dense, so squished? I don't get it. They are just not as good as the burgers at home.
The flight from Seattle to Victoria is a Dash 8. I'm in seat 9E - the very last seat on the plane and I get a fine view of the wheels. What's with all the sparks on take-off and landing? The flight is so short that the captain is preparing for landing before I even get my drink. I drank the water fast as this flight attendant was back to collect the garbage shortly. Everything else was uneventful. I was relieved to see my bag arrive when I did, customs was a breeze - too bad I never figured out that duty free thing, and Cassius was there waiting to give me a ride home.
It's good to be home. It's good to see my dog and take Roxy for a walk, we had a nice visit with Sarah this afternoon. John's funeral is on Saturday and my next post will have to be about him. I'll do that on the way back to Pearl Harbour.


Good bye my friend