About 9 months before moving to Maui, I was actually offered a very good position on the island of Molokai. Through a series of emails, Skype interviews and phone calls, I had secured the job. Executive Director of a non-profit substance abuse facility. True, I had been telling friends and family for over a year that I was moving to Maui, but hey, this was close, right? At least I was offered a position on one of the Hawaiian islands. I could use my days off, travel to Maui and look for work, all the while being employed on Molokai. I could vacation on Maui, heck, I could SEE Maui from Molokai….practically there, I thought.
I boarded the plane one cold rainy April, and headed to Molokai, via Maui of course, because there are no planes that go to Molokai. With a population of just over 7,000, and minimal tourism, Molokai is a breed apart, in terms of the Hawaiian islands. With approximately 2,500 of the island’s residents having at least 50% Hawaiian heritage, except for Niihau (a small private island), Molokai is the only island where Hawaiian’s are the majority.
There isn’t much traffic in Molokai. Only by boat or by barge didn’t anything or anyone travel to and from that island…the occasional tourists, Molokai residents, and me. Or so I thought.
Renting a condo in Kihei, like I had for the past several years while visiting my sweet Maui, I planned my trip. I was here to meet my staff, had to take a boat, and had to take that boat out of the Lahaina harbor. Kihei being a good 45 minute drive from Lahaina, with no traffic, I had to plan this trip very carefully, so as not to miss the boat. The day before I was to leave from Lahaina, I drove there to scope out the parking situation. Having not lived here before, I had no idea that there were “secret” free parking, so I was left to being the tourist I currently was, and finding parking that would be available for three days, as that is how long I’d be in Molokai.
The first glitch I encountered was that there was only overnight parking for two days, not the three I needed, so I had to call the Board of Directors at the nonprofit that hired me to tell them I couldn’t stay the full three days. As I mentioned, there ARE places you can park indefinitely, but I hadn’t any idea about that at the time. So, no problem, they said, two days is fine, we’ll just re-adjust our schedule to fit yours.
The morning of my boat trip, I gathered everything I thought I’d be needing for my stay in Molokai and went outside to clear out the rental car. Since I’d be parking overnight and leaving my car unattended for two solid days, I didn’t want my snorkel gear, beach towel, etc. to be stolen, so I thought I’d better empty out the car. This was 5:15 a.m., the boat left at 7:15, it was an hour drive, so I had one hour to get everything together. No problem!!!
I leave my condo, get to the parking lot, open my car door and clean out all the beach gear I want to leave behind. As I turn around to walk back up to my condo, I realize I do not have the condo keys.
I have locked myself out. It is 5:15 in the morning and I have locked myself out.
O.k., don’t panic, there must be a window open, I thought to myself, so up the elevator to the second floor I go and check. Hmmm….no windows open. Then I realized the sliding glass door to the lanai is open, so if I can scale the condo complex and somehow get to the second floor, I can climb over the railing and get inside. Back downstairs outside now, as I peruse this possibility. Those of you who know me personally understand that if there was a way into that condo, I would have done it, regardless if it meant climbing a 40 foot tree and hanging by a toenail to reach that Lanai railing. Viewing the side of the building, I realized that unless I suddenly grew sticky gecko hands and feet, this was not happening.
O.k., don’t panic, it’s only 5:30, go to the front office…….yes front office closed, it’s only 5:30, silly girl. But wait, there are emergency phone numbers on the outside of the office door. Thank GOD. Just have to dial one of these and I’m home free. Wait, no cell phone. That’s inside my condo sitting NEXT TO THE FRIGGIN KEYS…..argh….o.k., you’ve got a good brain, you can memorize one of these numbers, get in the car and go to the nearest gas station or anywhere and ask to use their phone. Here’s the emergency number, that’s sure to be a good one.
I get in the car, without my driver’s license, as that is next to the cell phone which is next to THE FRIGGIN KEYS….
……555-5391, 555-5391, 555-5391, 555-5391…. I say over and over to myself, trying to memorize the emergency number while looking for anything that might be open. No worries, it’s 5:30 after all, someplace must be open, right???
No gas stations, convenience stores, grocery stores, nothing open, 555-5391, 555-5391, 555-5391, 555-5391.…..now it’s 5:45.……, 555-5391, 555-5391, 555-5391, 555-5391.…..ah, Yes, a dive shop has it’s lights on, excellent. I pull into the parking lot of the dive shop, repeating my latest mantra over and over…, 555-5391, 555-5391, 555-5391.…..
Entering the dive shop, I blurt, “Uh, hello, I need help, I’m locked out of my condo and have to catch a boat in an hour and need to make a phone call, and can you help me please?”, and tears starting rolling down my cheeks….
“Well, aren’t you a pretty one?!” the store keeper starts, with a mischievous look in his eye. Great, just what I need, a flirtatious store keeper.
“I HAVE TO CATCH A FRIGGIN BOAT!!!!!” , I half scream, half warble as I’m starting to panic at this point. At this he nearly jumped off his seat, but also was able to gather his wits long enough to offer me his cell phone.
I dial the number and a recording comes on,
“Hello, you have reached the emergency hotline of ABC condo complex. We’re sorry we can’t come to the phone right now, but if you care to leave your name and number, we will call you as soon as we are in.”
Oh, God, I’m in trouble now.
Turning back to the dive shop owner who at this point looks like he‘s drooling and with an odd grin on his face, I ask “Can I borrow a pen and paper? There are several numbers written on the condo office door, so if I drive back there, I can write them all down and surely someone will pick up the phone”.
Back at the complex, I’m writing all the numbers down, and trying to ignore the fact that I have been driving up and down the main boulevard without my driver’s license.
I head back to the dive shop and the owner at that point tells me he has to leave, so he needs his cell phone back.
“And here are a bunch of quarters for the pay phone, and call me sometime, let’s go for a sail. You sure are beautiful!” Ick, can’t he see I’m in a crisis here? Doesn’t he care? Well, first lesson, sugar pie, no he does not care. He may have lent you his cell phone and given you quarters, but he’s not doing that without his own best interests in mind. Ok, whatever, no time for anger at the slime balls of the world, need to focus.
As I call each number I had written down, to no avail, I realize it’s getting late. If I don’t get on the road in 15 minutes, I’m not going to get on that boat, the only boat that day, to Molokai.
I finally reach an actual person on the other end of the line.
“It’s 6 a.m., I’m still in bed, can you please call back after 8?”
“Well, no,” I explain, “I’ve been locked out and, blah, blah, blah, blah,” all of the words tumble out frantically to someone on the other end of the line who I’ve obviously woken up. As she sleepily explains to me that even if she was able to hop in her car right then, it would take her 45 minutes to get to the condo, which would be too late for me to still make it to the boat on time, I realize I’m S.O.L.
Well, the condo office didn’t open until 8 a.m. I had called every number on that office door, and now I had nothing to do but wait. I was missing the boat, that much was certain.
As I sat on the beach that morning, waiting for the office to open, I reflected on all that had happened. I’m a firm believer in things happening for a reason. Did I really want to move to an island populated by mostly natives? I had heard story after story of the natives, being hostile to the Haoles (us white folk). Even if this was not true, if I took that position as the Executive Director of a substance abuse facility, would there be a chance that someone in treatment, loaded out of his mind one night and mad at me because (he thinks, as most addicts do) it’s my fault he’s in this recovery facility, …would there be a chance I’d not be safe? And what about activities? I had been told that I better be pretty self-contained, because there was not much to do there. That might be fine for newlyweds, or other tourists visiting for a short while, but what about me, after my first couple of months of exploring every nook and cranny of the island, knowing no-one, having no-where to go?
At 8a.m., the condo office opened and I was given a spare set of keys. I let myself into my room, and called the Board member that was supposed to pick me up at the harbor in about 15 minutes.
“Hi, I just wanted to let you know I’m not on the boat.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, it’s a long story, and I locked myself out of my condo about 3 hours ago, and I’ve had a long time to sit on the beach this morning and think. And not only am I not on the boat, I’m not taking the job. I’m so sorry for anything you may have done on my behalf to prepare for my arrival, but I must tell you that my heart is on Maui. I am going to live on Maui.”
Well, after a little more conversation, I got off the phone and looked outside at the coastline that had become so familiar to me over the years from my many visits to Maui. This was to be my home, I knew it now more than ever.
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Funny how we end up where we are meant to be, even when we sometimes try our best to go somewhere else.
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