At the Middle Reef of Molokini Crater, I felt triumphant as I floated above trumpet fish, butterfly fish, and hard coral. I had momentarily overcome my intense fear of deep water, too fascinated by the vibrant scene below me.

My temporary false sense of security had largely to do with the extra expense I had forked over, in renting a special surfboard with a window viewer in the center.

I wasn’t using the viewer, I can float -- the whole thing was my land loving emotional crutch. So with one arm securely over the surfboard, I was having myself a good time.

I had even forgotten the fact that we had accidentally booked ourselves on a snorkeling boat, where no crew, nor other passengers spoke any English, as everyone was Japanese.

My beautiful little bubble of a perfect snorkeling day came to an abrupt halt, when a frail elderly Japanese passenger, frantically climbed on top of my surfboard, panicking both of us. Just as the two of us were working out the logistics of staying afloat together, sans any means of communication -- my darling husband -- the one with no fear, despite the fact that he barely swims -- gleefully joined us to tell me all about the octopus he’d just seen.

Adding over two hundred pounds to the surfboard flotilla of two scared human beings, no doubt left a permanent memory of the terror in the eyes of my elderly companion. We all managed to stay afloat and after a few frantic minutes, he shoved off heading straight for the boat in a terrified dog paddle. Apparently, we were scarier, than possibly drowning on the way back to the boat.

Later, when the snorkeling had ended, we met him again at the lunch buffet. He was either extremely relieved to be back on the boat, or had digested the beauty of what he had tried and seen -- there wasn't a bigger smile on anyone on board.

This wasn't the first time (nor was it the last) I'd been snorkeling off Molokini Crater, but it was the the first time I ever took my husband along to the Maui Writer’s Conference. To a man who comes from a rural farming community of three hundred and nineteen people, going to Hawaii, was "huge."

Over the years, there have been several times when I've attended this convention. I find such conferences to be stimulating. I always walk away with important contacts, along with learning a great deal from the various speakers, workshop leaders, and fellow wanna-be authors.

About a thousand people attend this well-respected conference each year. Many well known authors are guest lecturers. Additionally, there are literary agents and publishers attending this convention.

Last year's conference included, just to name a few of the speakers:

• Barbara Kingsolver
• Jackie Collins
• Terry Brooks
• Catherine Coulter
• Nicholas Sparks
• Julie Garwood

This trip for my agricultural community raised husband, was an eye-opener for both of us. Professionally, I was accustomed to conventions and conferences, he wasn't. The conference that year was held at the Ritz Carlton, in Kapalua, Maui.

For me, flying is no big deal, and as it stands now, due to the deterioration of the airline industry in terms of customer satisfaction, flying has become more of a hassle than a joy.

This isn't the case for my husband, just being at the airport is big fun for the plow boy who dreamed of being a pilot (and eventually took the courses for his license). At the time of this trip, he'd flown before, but this was our first trip together of any great distance.

Even getting him on the right plane became a challenge, because he was too busy watching the planes docking and unloading, etc. to be bothered with standing in line to board on time.

Getting a window seat on the plane, even if you are flying at night and there is nothing to see -- is exciting to him as any little boy flying for the first time. The difference is, for him, it's still exciting each and every time we fly.

Lots of laughs and patience are required when you fly with him. Still, I find it refreshing to travel with someone who delights in "the moment" of every thing he does. Nothing has changed over the years in this respect.

Whenever we vacation, I've come to understand that we will be taking the road less traveled, even though my husband has probably never heard of the concept or the original book.

Anyone who has ever been to Maui, knows why people buy the t-shirts that say, "I Survived the Road to Hana." I need a new t-shirt, one that says "I survived Bill on the road to and from Hana."

The cliff hanger scenic road to Hana, and the Seven Sacred Pools, is but a mere sixty-eight hair-pin miles, yet it took us eight hours to reach the destination. By then, the park was closing and everyone was leaving.

There was no way my adventurer was going to miss seeing those Seven Sacred Pools. It didn't matter that we didn't have a flashlight and it was rapidly getting dark. He had to count them to make sure there were really seven.

Half way to the Seven Sacred Pools, with native bushes of some sort, all taller than me, on all sides of the trail -- I heard something. It was either a gang, or something really big. In the middle of an unfamiliar terrain, slippery flip flops, fog, and no idea where my darling had hot footed off in pursuit of our destination -- I froze.

I heard the noise again, this time it was coming from behind me, and in front of me. They were in the bushes and I was surrounded. Tearing back down the path to towards our rental car, one of my flip flops broke as I was about to run for my life. It was then that I came face-to-face with . . . . a few free ranging cattle -- all of whom were laughing at me, I am fairly certain about that fact.

Note: In case you are wondering why it took eight hours to drive sixty-eight miles -- Bill was so into the moment of everything that he saw, we had to constantly stop to look at everything longer and closer up. He was fascinated by virtually every flora and fauna on this drive.

The road back from Hana proved to be even more exciting than my walk with the wildlife hike. The preferred trip route out of Hana is back up the same sixty-eight miles. However, there's another "not recommended" road -- a dirt road, that on the map appears to be a shorter route back.

There's a big sign, warning of the dangers of rock slides, etc. on that road. Indeed, due to an earthquake, the road was actually closed from 2006 to October 2008, as it took that long to remove boulders from the road.

Warning signs were completely dismissed by my fearless road-less-traveled mate, who loves the idea of taking a different road back from just about everywhere on the planet, just to see what's there. Well, to save anyone the trouble, there are:

• Boulders (giant ones)
• Places where the road just disappears
• Pot holes the size of cars
• Total darkness
• Pickup trucks filled with drunken natives hoop-hollering at you as they fly by
• Ocean spray across the road so high you think you've driven into the ocean, or off a cliff
• A total need for four wheel drive
• A total need for nerves of steel

By the time we got back to the Ritz Carlton, our little day outing had lasted a harrowing, but fun twenty hours. Since we had brought along an elderly lady friend along on this trip, we were in big trouble. She was put out because we'd left her all alone for the whole day and night.

I'd had so much fun (I actually did enjoy the adventure), that the next day I opted to stay for some writer workshops. I sent the two of them off helicoptering over volcanoes and other islands.

I had lots of laughs when they got back. She had been a World War II nurse, served in Korea, and in Vietnam and wanted to ride shot gun in the helicopter over and back. Bill, of course, wanted to ride up front too. They adored each other, but traveling with them was like traveling with two little toddlers at times. Both were miffed that they had to share the helicopter pilot and me.

The nene or Hawaiian goose, a ground nesting bird entirely unique to Maui -- is only found within the crater walls of Haleakala Crater. It lives on the very limited vegetation that grows only there.

Approximately only twelve hundred Hawaiian monk seals still survive in the Hawaiian Islands. The monk seal can be seen around the coral reefs of Maui, hunting fish, lobsters, and octopuses.  

This is the most endangered of all seal species. Unfortunately, it continues to decline in population due to man's enroachment of it's native terrain, as well as breeding difficulties due to a high male population vs. female.

It’s Hawaiian name is “Ilio-holo-I-ka-uaua,” which translates to in English to, “dog that runs in rough waters.” Unique to this seal species is the fact that it has no ears.

Once one of the most important ports of call for the whaling industry in the 19th century, Maui had over four hundred ships arrive in 1846 alone. All of these ships were after the coveted prize of the sperm whale's high-quality oil.

Whale watching is an important tourist activity each year when the whales are off the Hawaiian Islands during the winter months.

The popularity of Maui Lauas both for the entertainment and food factors, make it one of the not to be missed activities when visiting the Hawaiian Islands. It's a chance to sample local foods.

Be sure to shop around for this activity if your hotel does not include one in it's package.  If you are attending the Maui Writer's Conference, you can be sure that it is an activity already included in the program.