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Wednesday Sean's Photos, Wendell's Notes Wednesday morning, we awoke at 9:30 AM and enjoyed breakfast on the lanai, listening to the exotic birds of Kauai and the white noise of the surf rolling into the beach 100 yards away - this helped soothe our jangled nerves from the night before. The night dive on Tuesday was quite exotic, exciting and interesting - a little too interesting. We met up with Dave at 8PM at the boat ramp and hopped aboard his Zodiac boat for the trip to the North Shore. En-route he explained that the DC-3 was one that he'd been flying several nights before and was forced to ditch in the ocean because he ran out of fuel only a few miles from the take-off. The reason for the massive fuel shortage was the large number of bullet holes in the fuel tanks, draining the primary and auxillary tanks in a few minutes. Apparently the "business competitors" of Dave's air freight clients did not want the shipment to go out. We arrived at the site, anchored and got our dive briefing - go down to the wreck (in 50 feet of water) swim around until we're down to 1,000 PSI, shoot a safety sausage, then ascend to the surface slowly and safely. Dave needed to retrieve a Haliburton case containing some "pharmaceuticals" from the plane and then Sean and I should "blow it in place" to "destroy the evidence." Wendell doublechecks the demolition charge and timer settings before Sean places it. This was Sean and Tracy's first night dive - quite a challenge for them but they took to it quite well. Our descent went fine, we located the wreck and began swimming around it and admiring the sea life. After about ten minutes we heard a strange buzzing noise and Dave came over to us and signed to us that we should turn out our lights. A few minutes later we heard splashing from the surface. We looked up and in the dim light of the crescent moon were able to make out the shapes of two divers entering the water from the surface above. Two assholes. Dave used a new hand sign that he had explained in the class yesterday (see photo) and drew his dive knife. We witnessed a hands-on, practical application of "one on two" underwater knife fighting - Dave is an excellent instructor who can talk the talk AND walk the walk. Dave inflated their BCs and floated the two divers to the surface where the large quantities of blood immediately drew sharks - about 20-30 sharks circled overhead in the monlight making short work of the two interlopers. While this was going on, we waited out the frenzy in the cabin of the DC-3. Wendell penetrates the wrecked cargo hold of the DC-3. Dave had stripped the tanks and regulators from his opponents so we had more than enough air to wait out the sharks. While we waited, Dave used his dive slate to conduct "on the job training" in decompression diving. Once the sharks departed to "sleep off" their heavy meal, we emerged from the plane and began our safe ascent. We all exchanged "high-fives" after we heard Sean's demolition charge detonate a few moments after we pulled ashore. Dave was quite pleased with our progress as divers and treated us to a late dinner and drinks at Keoki's Paradise. There was much celebration and Dave signed off on our certificates and dive logs with quite a flourish. Dave also presented us with our "Demo Dave's Dangerous Divers" course completion certificates and we each got a boonie hat from his dive locker. The boonie hats are to be worn while diving and drinking - when you go drinking you put the umbrellas from your drinks in the top of the boonie hat. The person with the fewest umbrellas at the end of the evening is the designated driver. Three happy divers. The drinks were amazing - Dave called them the "Lava Flow." The Lava Flow Tracy and Wendell getting started on some post-dive serious drinking. Sean and Wendell at Keoki's Paradise We're not certain what's in them, however we slept quite well that evening and awoke this morning feeling pretty good (all things considered.) We plotted out a hike into the bottom of Waimea Canyon and spent Wednseday embroiled in an adventure down and back up. Sean described it as a "simple hike" merely 3.5 miles down and back up (he neglected to mention the 2,500 feet in elevation change.) Provisioned with several quarts of water and Gatorade, plus sandwiches from the Dali Deli, we started out on our journey. Waimea Canyon Sean treated us to an E-Ticket ride in the Mustang convertible up the canyon ascent road. The Mustang convertible As we parked the car, a "nene" (local wild chicken) came over and started pecking at our feet. Local superstition says that if a nene pecks at your feet, this journey will be your last. We began our descent past various picnic shelters, scenic viewpoints and tourist attractions. Beyond these, the trail became steeper and less well maintained. The last of these sites was a WW-II relic of an "observation platform." We sent Tracy up it to check out the canyon below. Tracy up the pole Tracy snaps a photo from the top of the pole. "Okay, you two take about three giant steps back . . ." Don't look down! We descended beyond the scenic outlook into the area where tourists fear to tread. The trail became steeper as went down and evidence of landslides, rockslides and mudslides began looking more ominous. We finally reached the mid-point of the trail down to the canyon floor. A small sign directed us toward a "trail detour" and we began heading downward. After about 100 yards, we encountered an odd, trailside totem. The trailside totem We decided to ignore the totem's obvious warning and we proceeded through the thick jungle down to the bottom of the canyon. Once on the bottom of the canyon, we rested briefly, ate lunch and began exploring the canyon floor. Wendell and Tracy look for a good picnic spot. We began to head upstream/up canyon after lunch. On the ridge above Tracy are several small goats hidden in the underbrush. Tracy gives the Hawaiian good luck sign. Sean insisted the we head up river to see if we could find the sourse of the water flow. The trail became quite thin, and then started to run along a rocky cliff. The air became rich with the scent of wild orchid and plumeria, soon overpowered by the scent of raw fear . . . Don't look down. If you fall, aim for the deep part of the river. The water should be at least 10 feet deep. If you fall, move quickly out of the water so the leeches won't have time to attach themselves to you. We reached the turnaround point about 3:30 PM, leaving us two and a half hours of daylight to get back. We started back and Sean documented our progress periodically by snapping photos of "the knob." The knob from the canyon floor. The knob on our way up. The knob and the totem. The knob from high up. Tracy climbs up to the top of the scenic outlook for one long, last look at the canyon. (click here for an expanded view.) Despite the many ominous, forboding and downright scary things that suggested that our trip into the canyon was doomed, we managed to come out of it unscathed. We arrived home in time for a brief bit of night snorkeling and then we sent out for a pizza and went to sleep early, exhausted from the day's hike. More to follow on Thursday . . .

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