Saturday morning was my first time out since last week. I dawdled around and
paddled out late, so I missed that perfect windless dawn part of the
morning. Still, it was a beautiful day -- the waves seemed made for me,
just waist to head high and peeling nicely. It was the end of the swell and
the tide was high. To top it all off, I saw my favorite weekend friend
scoring some nice rides.
There was enough of a crowd in the lineup that I was glad to have the 'east
end' peak to share with my buddy alone. When this peak is breaking it is
popular with some of the spongers, but seldom chosen by boards. They risk
losing their fins on the shallow reef. I know only a few old timers who know
exactly how to time the wave and how to ride high on the lip to make this
peak. It is worth it when they do, since there is often a powerful little
re-form inside which gives us that double ride we love. I got a few
fantastic runs across sheer walls before the tide and wind started crumbling
the peaks. It was the best I had known in months. In between sets, my buddy
and I were catching up on two weeks of news; he told me how I had missed
some great days this week. (Dontcha love that!)
My buddy and a friend had caught some of the big ones in this last swell at
Bomburas -- a place known for the slam-into-the-breakwater ending for those
who don't kick out in time. That day was especially great, but it ended
dramatically for my friend. He said he had been taking the waves well, but
then was fiddling with one of his contact lens that had come out -- just as
an overhead-plus set came in. The first two waves washed him a bit (with
lens still clutched in hand), so he decided to just charge the third (with
one eye). It dumped him royally. He went down hard ... his leash snapped ...
and his new board went tumbling toward the boulders of the breakwater.
Luckily, his friend was able to dive and retrieve the board just before the
landing. BUT, in the process, his friend lost both of his contact lens. The
two of them made it to land okay. He laughed, after all that, the drive
home together - blind leading the blind - was the really scary part of the
day.
It seems the guys were eager to tell me their stories this week. Another
surfer friend told me of how he finally got out to the West side to catch
some of the good stuff last week. With a comic pantomime, he danced in the
hallway at work to show me his longboard style -- Old School, this guy. He
is quick to admit (as am I) that he just 'ain't in the shape of those kids
out there.' As the Elder Surfer, he sometimes tries hard to make sure they
know he's still got the stuff. (With this line he showed how he huffs and
puffs when they aren't looking. I know THAT one!! LOL!) He told about the
best ride he got last week ... a huge set, double overhead was coming in ...
and the 'boys' were all paddling out. In his peripheral vision he could see
they were watching him take the drop (perfectly!) ... they saw him even out
... do his stance ... then ... he looked ahead. There was a tube -- closing
out toward him. He hesitated -- for just a second. Then ... yes ... he went
*into* it. He headed straight in .... showing no fear -- 'the 'boys' were
watchin'!' BUT ... (and here the people in the hallway all had to stop to
stare) ... once inside the tube he let go and screamed and thrashed to get
out alive. Sigh ... it's a guy thing. (Hey, *he* said that before I could
... LOL!) I guess the high fives out at the lineup made it all worth it.
On Friday afternoon I chose not to surf -- instead, I stood at the side of
Ala Moana Boulevard with about 100 other people holding signs that asked for
peace. It was a silent vigil thrown together by a number of religious and
activist groups. I held my sign, (War will not end terrorism) and waved to
commuters driving home. I did not need responses; I was doing this for my
own peace of mind. But ... there were honks -- and waves. Many. Many more
than I expected. I have to say, my biggest smiles went to the cars with
surfboards on top -- and to the surfer wahine in one who all but fell out of
the window of her car in her enthusiastic applause of our signs.
As someone said, in this equinox time of year, when the length of days begin
to equal the nights, it is worthwhile to think of balance. I think I am
finding mine.
Malama Pono
Süs
