Maritime Adventure of a Styrofoam Relic, “The Great Boudini”

2012 New Year Sunset

My husband and I recently acquired a new boat. We are the third owners of a Crealock 34 Pacific Seacraft. The boat came with a “trunk of treasures” as the previous owner dropped off a bundle of goodies to include extension cords, books, canvas, tarps, etc. and something else. A rust colored styrofoam relic arrived in my garage smiling about his Palmira past.

The Great Boudini at his new Waimea home in the the heart of the famous Parker Ranch

The patina was a beautiful combination of hues only a faux artisan with experience in replicating aging and color variations could mimic. This was, however, naturally acquired through the use somewhere in the Pacific as it was saved as a souvenir by the previous owner. It had been in service for a time because half of it looked like a baked ham, which must have been water side down. The object must have looked useful and when you are thrashing through stubborn birds on an atoll the smiling face with its singular “hair” may have amused the adventurers.

Like the soccer ball “Wilson” I decided to name it “The Great Boudini” as a nod to escaping the garbage dump and ending up in my garage along with everything else. (What are the odds?)

Giving it a name and a fun personality also allows us to keep it as an “obvious treasure” and give him a second chance (go with me on this now…). His fat smile must have looked down upon coral wonderlands and exotic fish in turquoise pools. I can imagine the ocean’s never ending gentle and harsh rhythms of nature having had washed his sides in mirth and rage. Numerous cadences may have been tapped out over time as barnacles fastened themselves to his surface and small crabs clung on to his small world.

The sun and moon passed overhead and winds must have whistled happy tunes through the band of holes at its top. There may have been many days of which a fisherman might have searched the horizon for his smiling face. He might have been very important and held the day’s meal for a village. He might have held a lobster pot perhaps, or marked the entrance to a channel. It is possible he originally arrived from the pearl farms in Tahiti and and had supervised the smooth time consuming layers of Mother of Pearl being secreted into valuable gems. He must have sailed once freed from his duties like a rakish youngster away from its parents across the ocean with no obvious course, just the happenstance of winds, currents, and waves.

His maker was thoughtful and made him sturdy, but after a time, he ended up on the Big Island in a condo (golf course frontage) of all things. His days at the resort now over, he arrived rather unexpectedly amongst another mariner’s abode just a salt grain away from another run of ocean adventures.

The Great Boudini listened to the Labrador pup lap the pan of water and Boudini felt assurance. Drink up life…and get back to the sea, it seemed to sound like. His smiling face had not told the story of Palmira Island, but the grimace had gotten him passage from places you may be surprised to learn about. He now was living in Waimea the the heart of the famous Parker Ranch and posed with great sincerity in the garage as the “subject” of one of Diane’s free writes. His valor and worth was by no means lost—because he was featured in a blog at Hawaii Life Real Estate Brokers.

Call or e-mail Diane Chavez, RS for Buyer or Seller assistance for Big Island Properties. 808-987-8294  diane@hawaiilife.com