One of the great things about Hawaii is that it doesn’t have near as many things that want to bite, poison or eat you as say…oh…Australia. Sure, in the water they are on par, but on land you have much better odds of surviving your visit. There are no snakes to speak of (well there is one. It was imported and everyone is given permission to kill them on site. Apparently there is no eco-friendliness when it comes to foreign snakes in Hawaii. Aloha). The only spider is the cane spider, which is big and ugly, but not venomous. Seems that they have figured out that there only defense against humans is that they are big and ugly, so as a bluff they are aggressive as hell and attack on site. Betting, I believe, that you don’t know that they aren’t poisonous. They appear to have learned that the best defense is a good offence. Then there are the centipedes. These are 6 inch long, armor plated uglys with a bite, which, while not deadly, will leave you wishing you were dead. As one of the local guide books put it “If bit by a centipede, the best you can do is stay drunk for the next three days; by then it should have passed.”

So…guess which one I met?

At happy hour on the first night of our stay, Jenn was discussing with one of the resort owners (Jan) what she had read about centipedes. Jan mentioned that they used to be a problem, but were now extremely rare and we would most surely never see one. I wasn’t listening as a) I am a male and have been married for 38 years and b) Michael and I were talking drums.

In any case, I had to run back to our Hale (house) for something. As I climb the steps, there at the top, staring at me with his beady little antennae, or whatever they use for beady little stares, was a monster of a centipede. Though only about 6 inches long he seemed more like a 3 foot dragon to me. Where were the Knights of the Coffee Table when I needed them? Oh yeah…back in southwestern Ontario freezing their butts off.

Anyway, I came up the steps a bit disconcerted by his brashness and beady stare. I feigned right, skirted left and dashed for the door. He didn’t blink, or wiggle his antennae, or, as I hoped, run screaming from the porch.

As I was leaving, I decided to give him a good scare and show him who was boss. I stomped my rather heavy foot mere inches from his head. Nothing. He didn’t even spill his coffee.

I went back and told the group what I had seen. Michael was on his feet immediately!

ALRIGHT, I thought; a Quest is afoot!!!! There was a short Knighting Ceremony, armor was donned (Sandals) and the Knights of the Coffee Table were ready to ride into battle once again. This time, not to move or save a beast. This time, to actually slay a Dragon!

As a side note: Apparently there are sleeper cells of Knights of the Coffee Table all over the world, just waiting for a quest so they too can join the Order. But I digress.

Michael and I were now in full gallop to meet our foe. The Dragon had taken up a somewhat less defensible position, but one that clearly stated that my Hale, and all the riches within, were now his. (He clearly had not thought this all the way through. If he had first looked at “all my riches” he likely would have left a care package and sauntered off.) Anyway…from his position firmly in the center of the welcome mat, he stared at us, antennae twitching, clearly in a heightened mental state and ready to do battle.

Michael rushed the beast. His sandal clad foot landing a crushing blow! There was a horrible sound of cleaving armor. Surely such a blow would end the battle as soon as it started. But no…apparently all we had done was piss him off. Michael’s sandal clad foot continued to rain down blow after blow to a very disconcerting crunching sound. In a last ditch effort the heavily wounded beast made for the top of the stairs, where I was standing guard.

Now I have no recollection of this but, as Michael tells the story, there was an utterance from my direction such as is generally only heard from terrified young girls.

As I recall, when the battered and bloodied (or whatever that goop was) beast made for me, I raised my mighty size twelve sandals and delivered a death blow such as the world has never seen. This was, again, accompanied by a very unnerving crunch, not unlike the noise crab legs make as you crack them open at Red Lobster. I will confess that at that moment I did think “Ewwwwww”, but I swear I never said it out loud. But no…the beast dragged his broken body towards me in one last valiant attack. Holy crap! Won’t this thing ever die? In any case; stomp, stomp, stomp with a final stomp from Michael thrown in for good measure…and the beast was dead. Peace and safety were once again restored to the Island Kingdom.

As we returned to our women folk, weary from battle, a hearty round of drinks were ordered. You know…the ones with those lovely little fruit garnishes and umbrellas on the side.

The Knights of the Round Table (International Edition) had prevailed again.