The Sketch Book

©1998 by Dave Birley

My wife and I have just returned from a delightful visit to the Hawaiian Islands. While there we indulged ourselves with several small luxuries that we would have found it necessary to forgo in the past. One of these was the Sunset Dinner Cruise. We found a combined price of the earlier submarine voyage and the dinner cruise for only $59 each irresistable.

The submarine trip was disappointing. We saw a lot pf plankton, and not a whole lot else (unless you count a single barnacle encrusted anchor of uncertain age). The dinner cruise, on the other hand, was something else entirely. We were unaware that there were several different social levels of such trips available, and that we had selected the "most affordable". Our suspicions that his might be the case began as we observed some of the guests for the trip.

Not long after the voyage began, I started to notice the types who were present, and remarked woefully to my wife that I wished I could do lightening caricatures of a bunch of them, when it suddenly dawned on me: I can. Not drawings, but verbal sketches. I am, after all, something of a writer. What I needed was to create a verbal sketch book. The few sketches that follow are as I jotted them down on my ever-present pocket notepad. I hope you will find them as entertaining as we did.

As we came on board three pretty young hula girls in sarongs greeted us. One of them was set up to pose with each couple for a photograph featuring a life ring with the boat’s name on it. Once we were under way the hula girls served as waitresses, bus girls, and, oh yes, dancers.

The entertainment consisted of chatter by a Hawaiian looking young man who insisted by calling out the obligatory "Alooooha!", to which the assembled guests responded half-heartedly "Alooha!". The young man then did the equally obligatory turn away in dismay, the return to the microphone, and the expected "Let’s try it again, folks: Alooooooooha!". This the time the response was deemed sufficient to permit the show to proceed. The young man solicited a "Big Hand for my cousin Jesse", and the assembled throng complied. Jesse hadn’t done much yet, but perhaps this was in case he didn’t receive any applause later.

The elegance of the evening was enhanced by the opaque plastic glasses in which the drinks were served. Of course, for a dollar extra you could obtain one of the souvenir glasses. These were of a better grade of plastic, on a par with the "collector cups" offered at your neighborhood convenience store.

Almost immediately we noticed a large blonde jock of a man. He reminded me of the groom’s brother in Goodbye Columbus. Big in every way, beefy, good natured, and dumb looking. He came on board with a tiny oriental wife and two sleepy kids. Sitting opposite us at the table was an immensely circumferenced man who never cracked a smile, accompanied by a wife who never stopped smiling. Guess whose idea this trip was! Next to them opposite us the newly weds (only 5 days) trying not to pay too much obvious attention to one another.

About this time Jesse’s cousin (we never did catch his name) started to sing. Of course this was the expected Hawaiian cliché music. Tiny Bubbles, Lovely Hula Hands, My Little Grass Shack. What made his performance remarkable was not that he was a bad singer. He really wasn’t that bad. It was just that his introductions to each song and his remarks to the guests as he sang them kept reminding me of Bill Murray’s Lounge Singer routine. The more he did, the more I thought of Murray, and the more I found myself giggling. I mentioned it to one of the other staff members, and she later came over to me and said "I agree with you".

There was a Japanese looking waiter who reminded me of the camp commandant in The Bridge on the River Kwai. A guest reminded me of Maynard from Dobie Gillis. Then there were the really touristy looking guests. The lady in the white hat with flowery shorts, a white tank top and sunglasses, accompanied by a child who was quite unsure of what was going on. The teenage girl in a green tank top and white denim cutoffs, and the truly elegant tall Hawaiian lady in a white sheath dress.

And through this moving montage the voice of Jesse’s cousin intoning "Ladiesandgentlemen .......putyourhandstogether...." prior to persuading some not-too-reluctant guests to join the hula girls and learn the Tahitian hula. Afterwards as the staff tried to whip up some applause, "Guys, just make sure nothing fell off".

As the first half of the show drew to its inevitable intermission, the music changed to the Hawaiian Wedding Song, and couples got up to dance. The big blonde jock touchingly partnered one of his small daughters as an elderly Japanese couple danced with commendable restraint. At the end, the announcer’s invitation "Everybody kiss" got little reaction.

As the entertainers returned, with the hula girls now in 50's poodle skirts, and the band similarly re-costumed, the music style changed too. Surprisingly these Hawaiian musicians were much better with 50's rock than they were with the Hawaiian stuff. A teenage boy, sporting low rider shorts and funky sunglasses looked way cool, dude! A grandmother in sunglasses clapped along to The Twist — almost in time to the music. Shortly before our return to harbor the band offered The Macarena, and the hula dancers really shone!