The tide turns.
The wind rises.
The channel deepens.
A man in a fancy boat
sails out. GPS told him it was fine.
The Alenuihaha channel,
known as one of the most dangerous
in the world,
comes alive.
For some, knowledge is arbitrary.
They mistake indifference for permission.
Fail to track the fact that they are the
only ones heading up this coast.
Suddenly the ocean demands attention.
No alarm goes off,
no warning.
This is nature doing what nature does.
Not vindictively.
It is not personal.
Though lessons are there
for the taking.
He presses on, into the wind,
and I, on shore, can only
shake my head in wonder.
He is listing badly.
It might as well be a more expensive yacht.
In the end, it will not matter.
We have witnessed the ubiquitous
tug and barge, the means by which
all goods arrive on these islands—
disappearing between mega swells
at 4 am.
Containers have been known
to be dumped overboard.
Forty-foot containers,
loaded with freight.
Do we lack perspective these days?
Our devices suggesting mastery
over all things.
This claim is suspect.
I wave my arms, madly signaling,
Go Back.
He does not, at first.
So I walk until my body is out of sight.
Then I notice the turnaround.
He is headed back to shore.