Kimi Werner is a professional hunter. She doesn’t fit the stereotypical mold of a rough-hewn African safari guide. Instead, this soft-spoken, flip-flop-wearing island girl from Maui holds her breath and wears a neoprene wetsuit to work. Her capabilities should not be underestimated, nor her ready smile mistaken for weakness. She is a consummate professional; an absolutely lethal underwater hunter. A former U.S. National Spearfishing Champion, Kimi is perhaps the most widely respected and recognized female diver in the sport. Her phone never stops ringing. Chase snappers in Mexico, wahoo in Texas, tunas in Ascension — the options are endless, as are the expectations. Jetting from one location to the next becomes a blur of perpetual motion. Perceptions must be maintained, decisions defended, obligations met, and above all, content created. The tension of meeting the constraints of her contractual obligations to her sponsors is the accepted cost of the freedom she enjoys — the freedom offered by an escape into the depths of the ocean she so dearly loves. These worlds collided on a trip to the Azores, an often-overlooked island chain to which she felt inexplicably linked.
The Azores might best be described as the love child of Portugal and Hawaii. The weather-worn cobblestone streets in its towns are lined with bustling cafes that scream Europe, juxtaposed against lush green countryside adorned with exotic plants like ginger and taro that spirit you away to Kona or Kauai. It is a beautiful fusion of old-world tradition and island exuberance.
Landing on the tiny volcanic island of Pico, she stepped off our plane, into the syrupy autumn afternoon sunshine and searched for her local host. The man meeting her was Azorean spearfishing. Kimi had heard rumbles about Paulo Afonso in her world, murmurs about a diver who most often dove alone and
