Note: (The following story does not intend to glorify or draw any special attention to feats attempted by myself, or more importantly by my brother on the morning of March 15, 2011. Big wave surfing is something that has been around since the very first surfer dared to put his or her head down and scratch into a wave just for the hell of it. I think you will find it quite clear in the words that follow that Adam and I are both extremely novice in such areas, and have only just begun our separate journeys in search of these kinds of rare oceanic conditions. Instead, here, with the following prose, I wish only to record the account of a simple adventure; an adventure that I'm sure neither of us will ever forget.)
On Tuesday, March 15th 2011, Adam woke up at 4:00 am and started cooking breakfast.
Around 4:30 am I woke up and instantly became aware of a faint drumming coming from somewhere far away.
Leaning out over the balcony of my bedroom, blinking myself out of a dream, I looked down on my younger brother the kitchen...
Mt. Ka'lala as seen from the lineup leading out to Ka'ena Point--Ka'ena was thought of by the ancient Hawaiians of O'ahu as a Leina Kauhane (Soul's Leap), a jumping off point from which the 'uhane (spirit) of the dead jumped to the underworld. If the leap was successful the 'uhane entered Po, the realm of the spirits. It was here at Ka'ena Point that they would follow the sun to their eternal night. If the person lived an honest life his or her 'aumakua (family ancestral deities) would welcome the 'uhane to their realm. Surfing in the shadow of this mountain range is a great honor no matter what ones ancestry happens to be.
"Adam," I mumbled, still mostly asleep.
"Yes bri?" he answered moodily as he often is this early in the morning.
"You making some breakfast?" I inquired.
"Yup," he answered pensively.
"Make me some," I implored.
"You want some?" He answered raising his eyebrows, but still not looking up.
"Yea, I want some," I said.
"Ok, I'll make you some," He replied, not skipping a beat, not looking up, not showing any kind of emotion or recognition of the fact that it was four in the morning and more importantly that he too heard the quiet but persistent sound of a drum drumming from some place far away.
I went back to sleep (if you want to call it that, basically I was just trying to stay calm and not worry too much about what we were about to do.)
What we were about to do became quite clear to us the night before as at 9:50 pm on Monday Oahu's north shore buoys began to spike around 17 feet at 17 seconds. We knew this could correlate to ocean wave face heights reaching well into the thirty to forty foot range, (15 to 20ft+ Hawaiian scale) the next day and as it takes about 9 hours for a swell to hit once it shows up on the outer buoys we could expect to see the swell peak the following morning at around 6:00 am.
We pretended to go to sleep.
At around 5:00 am Tuesday, my breakfast was ready.
"Bri, your up," Adam said bluntly, knowing that I was nearly back to sleep, or maybe paralysis, or whatever you want to call it.
I got up. Put a light on. Put on my trunks. And went downstairs.
I felt sick and my head was swimming and still, there was drumming.
At the bottom of the stairs Adam handed me a plate. The plate had brown rice and two eggs on it. The rice was soggy.
I poured myself a glass of country orange juice and went back up to the sanctuary of my room, turned on my connection to the outside world (computer) and began watching cartoons to try to stop myself from thinking about the dark, angry, Pacific outside my window.
Adam went into the living room, put on his favorite surf film, "Five Summer Stories," and quietly ate his breakfast. Neither of us said a word.
The drumming grew louder.
At around 5:15 we both finished eating and began moving around--quietly getting things in order, grabbing supplies; wax, water, wetsuits, cameras, two basic "big wave" leashes (ten feet long and very thick) and two old school "big wave" surfboards.
I should mention here that neither Adam, nor I owned the surfboards we chose to take with us this day, and had our good friend Glaze not lent them to us, our mission would have been impossible. As it was Adam was still very under-gunned (not having a big enough surfboard) with his Hawaiian made, teal blue 9'6 Barry Kanaiaupuni, and it would have been extremely difficult for me to catch any wave in the 15ft+ (Hawaiian) range with my Owl Chapman shaped 9'2 mango-yellow single-fin, but I was recently crippled by the reef at pipeline, and with two broken toes had little ambition to actually catch any waves this day.
(GLAZE)
But more on all that later as now we were in the mental battle that every surfer has to deal with when the surf is big and he, or she hears it calling.
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As I said, it was early in the morning, Adam and I were getting things in order for the mission, and it felt like we were going against a wall.
After eating I instantly felt my stomach sickly drop into my feet making them drag heavily as I slowly moved about the place looking for excuses to waste time.
"Quit dragging your feet, " Adam finally said as we were almost ready to go and I continued to wander around the house like a lost child.
Adam had now moved through the worry phase of the morning and was rapidly, and quietly I might add, switching over into the amped state one must mentally summon to get them through a mission such as the one we were about to embark on. The drumming was getting louder, faster, and harder for him to ignore.
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5:30 am, Tuesday, and were on the road, but before we could head north we had to make a quick stop to pick up a friend.
Megumi, a friend of a friend was visiting from Japan and wanted to see the big surf, so we took her along for the ride. Megumi was about 25 years old, very happy, very nice, and very good to have around with her small english vocabulary, and pretty round face always smiling and laughing. I especially was glad to have her along as she offered us a distraction from the wild surf awaiting us on the north shore, also we were both eager to reach out and befriend this girl in leu of what had just happened to her homeland. And so under the still shining stars we greeted Megumi Hawaiian style with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and then hit the road.
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The drumming continued.
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6:00 am: the eastern sky began to turn a lighter blue and my friend matt called with a surf report.
ring... ring...
"Hey Matt, good morning," I said.
"Hey good morning Brian," answered Matt in his gruff John Wayne way.
I told Matt that we were getting a bit of a late start and asked,
"What's going on up there?"
"It's big." Matt answered, kind of quietly, kind of distractedly, as he went on to say, "I can't really see it yet, but I can tell it's big, it's loud--I'm going to look at pipe, maybe phantoms, Waimea, and then head back towards you guys. Give me a call when you get closer."
I hung up and instantly felt even more paralyzed. The drumming increased suddenly and rapidly and made it even harder for me to focus. I haven't known Matt for too long, but just talking to the guy you can tell he's serious about life. When he said that it was big, I instantly knew that I wasn't going out.
I put down the phone and declared, "I'm not going out," to Adam and Megumi from the little drop seat in the back of our Ford Ranger. Getting no answer from either of them accept a little giggle from Megumi, I put the seat up, laid down on the floor and listened to their broken conversation about Japan, Hawaii, and surfing.
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At 6:30 am we hit the pineapple fields and Adam got his first look at the surf.
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The sun had not quite risen but there was enough light in the sky now to see the huge rows of white water marching in across the outer reefs.
"See that big left pushing in across the horizon just above the pine trees," he told Megumi, "that's Hammerheads," he said, and then he began laughing nervously as he suddenly exclaimed, "It's huge!"
I couldn't handle this. So I sprung up and got my first look at the swell.
It was huge. It looked like something out of Jurassic Park as Ehukai (sea spray) from the huge surf pounding into the jagged coast had spread out across the valley below and up into the lower regions of the ominous Mt. Kaala above--I closed my eyes and listened to the drumming and as it became increasingly louder, and increasingly faster and I suddenly looked back into the bed of the truck half expecting to see some ancient Hawaiian warrior there covered in black tattoos smiling insanely and beating wildly at his shark skin drum... Instead I saw only the two old surfboards, an old gas can, and a bunch of empty beer bottles. I shook my head and turned back to the Pacific.
The Pacific, looked like a well organized army. Lines of surf, shrouded in mist, moved in slowly from the deep, and as they came into contact with the outer reefs each magnificent swell fell forward in a stunning display of both violence and beauty--each wave it's own waterfall.
The watery areas inside the reefs were milky white and I could tell even from this great distance and height, miles away, that they were swirling and disturbed, and no place for a human being and again I declared, "Man Adam, I don't think I'm going out."
Megumi giggled some more and looked back at me through her seat...
"Not for you?" she asked.
"I guess not," I answered trying to make myself believe that there was some way I could actually enter this crazy ocean.
And, "Bri if you don't want to go out, thats fine," Adam said with conviction in his voice, and I could tell that he had already made up his mind about the situation, that the drummer was now his friend and that with each beat he grew more excited to put on his leash and paddle out into the maelstrom at the bottom of the hill.
"Lets just get down there and see what's going on," I answered nervously as I laid back down and clutched my stomach.
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Finally we reached the bottom of the hill, and upon seeing our friend Matt's SUV we instantly knew that if we were going to have a go, this was the spot.
Adam pulled the truck up next to Matt's and jumped out to have a word. Matt was waxing up his ten foot gun and as they discussed the conditions in simple terms I snuck off into the brush to try to throw-up.
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I came out to the bushes just in time to catch Matt as he quickly and determinedly walked his wiry frame towards the surf.
"Going for it huh?" I mumbled trying to sound tough, indifferent, and un-afraid.
"Yeah, I only have a little time," he answered surprising me with his matter of fact tone, as if he was going for a sunday morning longboard session at Chuns. And I thought to myself, "forget about work man, you just gotta focus on surviving right now," but what I said was, "Oh work huh, ok, ahh, well have fun man." But it didn't matter, the drumming was so loud around us that Matt could hardly talk and with each powerful beat my indecision stirred the grey places of my mind into a hot passionate goo.
"Ok man," was all he said as he turned and quickened his pace, and I had to yell out to him when I suddenly realized that I had no idea where or how to paddle out.
"Hey Matt," I yelled.
"Yo," he answered as he stopped and patiently turned towards me.
"How do you get out I stammered," letting on that I was scared and obviously novice to this kind of surfing, but willing to make the sacrifice in pride for some knowledge that might save my life.
"Ahh, I'm not really sure," was his honest reply and, "Just kind of try to thread the needle I guess," he suggested as he paused for a moment looking me in the eye and then seeing that I was mentally in limbo, he turned again to his path and left me to my own.
(Misty Mt. Ka'ala, the tallest peak on Oahu.)
I walked, or hobbled really, slowly back to the truck with my broken toes and saw that Adam was amping hard. The drumming now as we stood this close to the surf had grown out of control and it was insane and chaotic and as Adam prepared himself for the sea it was clear that he was in tune to it's rhythm. I closed my eyes, listened intently and tried to believe in myself. I tried to believe that my going into this sea would not risk either my own life, or the possible lives of other's who might try to help me should I get into trouble. I thought about those people, about the lifeguards, about my friends, hero's, and family... my thoughts became hyper and confusing and red and I opened my eyes and Adam had his board under his arm and he was looking at me and he was smiling.
"I'm going," he said.
"Ok, I'm coming with you," I answered against the will of my conscious mind, but letting the moment make the decision for me.
And, "Ok," was Adams answer, and he sounded confident when he said it. This made me feel good and instantly I began to build on that feeling. Inside my chest I knew I could do this. We said good bye to Megumi, gave her the keys to the truck, and slowly made our way across the Kamehameha highway and down the soft tan sand of the beach to a spot we thought would be a good place to depart from the earth for a while.
As we put our leashes on I looked out into the white place Matt suggested I "thread the needle" through and realized what he meant. Out there, in the blue, nearly a mile away, giant perfect lefts were peeling into an obvious channel where they backed off only to reform and in one great big wall of water closeout the entire inside area before us. If we could time it right, we would only need to take one or two of those big closeouts on the head and with luck, we might be able to bust our way into the outside channel. But first we had to deal with the endless walls of mean looking white, green, blue, and brown water, as they moved across the inside reef pulling up sand and seaweed, and whatever else wasn't clinging tightly to the bottom. It was daunting.
Before I could really suggest any kind of plan Adam ran to the surf, board in hand, and dove out like happy child entering the sea for the first time. I wanted to do the same, but with my toes freshly broken all I could muster was a fast hobble.
I remember hitting the water and hearing the sound of the drums fade and blend into the sound of the surf as it thundered across the outside reef, and as it did a sort of calm came over me. I was in survival mode, paddling hard, trying to catch my brother, and quickly wasting all my energy.
Suddenly a wall of white water, about six feet high, bore down on me. I knew there was no way I could duck dive the almost four inch thick Brewer I was lying on so I ditched my board and swam down into the blackness under the wave.
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It was like swimming into outer space.
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Under the water, for the first time in my life I felt a sense of how greatly immense this huge wet part of our world was--things were unusually dark and turbulent under there, and I remember instantly wanting to get to the surface--instantly feeling as if I was nothing--a flea--a speck of dust, and that in this wild and indifferent place my life could be washed away at any moment. I reached the surface, grabbed my leash, pulled my board to me, climbed up frantically, sat up and looked back towards shore... I was about ten yards from the sand.
Adam, at this point wasn't faring much better and again I tried to catch him, calming myself as I went realizing that this wasn't going to be easy or something I could rush for I knew that if I was going to make it to the outer reef I had to be smart with my energy and calm and precise with my mind.
Soon I learned how to paddle through the foamy, airy water, and after a few good decisions I caught up with Adam. Side by side now we pushed foreword to the main inside impact zone, and as I glanced over to him the serious look in his eye told me he was thinking exactly the same thing I was: were about to get it!
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And we did. Soon enough the inside horizon turned a brownish black and we knew a set was approaching. The first wave of this set did not break, and a more foolish surfer might have thought himself clear and safe as he paddled up it's smooth face, but Adam and I were too smart for that, and as we paddled up the thing we braced for something horrible. As we reached the crest of the first wave of the set and saw the heaving lip of the second wave it's hard to say what kind of thoughts passed through our minds. Maybe we worried that we were too close together and that we might get wrapped up in the soup under water, or maybe we worried that there might be a third, even bigger wave behind the second as there usually is, or maybe perhaps we thought of things more abstract like a soft bed, a girl, or the sunset--in any case the wave mowed us down hard and we each dealt with it in our own way.
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I think it was me who popped up first, because I can clearly remember seeing Adam smiling as he came out from the other side of that wave. Once again I pulled my board to myself via my leash, climbed up and took a quick surveillance of the horizon. Flatness. I was stoked, and as I stroked harder now for the outside Adam caught up to me. We looked over to each-other with cautious smiles and paddled out as fast as we could into the ominous, electric, silence.
Mt. Ka'lala as seen from the lineup leading out to Ka'ena Point--Ka'ena was thought of by the ancient Hawaiians of O'ahu as a Leina Kauhane (Soul's Leap), a jumping off point from which the 'uhane (spirit) of the dead jumped to the underworld. If the leap was successful the 'uhane entered Po, the realm of the spirits. It was here at Ka'ena Point that they would follow the sun to their eternal night. If the person lived an honest life his or her 'aumakua (family ancestral deities) would welcome the 'uhane to their realm. Surfing in the shadow of this mountain range is a great honor no matter what ones ancestry happens to be.When I look back into my mind, this part of the story gets a little blurry, perhaps because of the fear I felt paddling into the presence of this great wilderness, with it's mindless roaming beasts and endless deep. I can remember that we paddled for a long time and that it seemed like forever before we saw another person. And that we kept quiet as we went.
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When we finally did see another person it was Matt, and as I spotted him I broke the silence saying, "There they are Adam, about a hundred yards to the west." And I remembered how Adam could not see them at first, how they looked like a tiny flock of seabirds so far away and huddled together almost as if they were about to flap their wings and fly off together in search of some distant land.
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And took flight they did, for as we got closer to the pack, the first real set of the day, or, of my life I should say, appeared on the horizon. Relatively it was a small set of waves, at least in the minds of those who chase these things down on a regular basis, but to us they were cetacean. As we made our final approach on the pack the horizon began to slowly change colors from a deep and dark blue, then as we got closer to a purplish grey , and then finally, as we paddled our last few strokes into the channel the entire lower part of the sky out over the sea reared up brownish and black, and it began to hiss as it went.
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And then, from the relative safety of the channel, and in complete awe, Adam and I watched a surfer as he quickly swung around on his bright yellow board, paddled madly as if he was paddling for his life, slowly getting lifted by this hissing brown, green, and black bomb of a wave until he was precariously positioned in it's foaming lip, and at the last possible second, and with absolute reckless abandon, jump to his feet and like a some grand albatross with his wings spread wide, flew out across the thirty or forty feet of beyond vertical wave face before us at a speed I have never seen before in the natural ocean... the wave hissing, then screaming, then roaring as the surfer dive-bombed down into the flats, and then suddenly and almost instantly disappeared into the crisp whiteness of the waves teeth. I choked on my stomach, tried to breath, grunted, smiled, and then screamed.
(If you look really hard you can see Keoni Watson here in the white-water, bottom turning on a really, really deep one. I couldn't help but scream.)
The surfer, was Keoni Watson, a well known waterman from the west side of Oahu--the real Oahu--and I don't think I took a real breath until I saw his board pop up 200 yards away in the vast and soupy impact zone. "Ok!" I thought, smiling to myself, "how do I get back to the beach?"
But Adam was on it, and in an almost zombie like trance he paddled away from me and on up into the outskirts of the pack. With my broken toes and "tiny" 9'2 surfboard I opted to stay in the channel and try to get a few shots without getting cleaned up by a wide one. "Go easy," I said as he paddled away, and he did not look back.
Once again, this part of the session is foggy in my mind, as I think perhaps I was also in a trance, and as I look back I can only recall fragments of what I saw...
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One fragment I remember quite clearly was a horrific wipeout I witnessed and filmed and as I close my eyes now I can see every psycho detail as if the magnificent wave is once again frozen before me with the surfer perfectly suspended in time, upside down, arms and legs wildly stretched out, deep in the belly of the Pacific. As I walk up into this scene in my mind and observe the magic colors of the deepest chamber of the inside barrel and the painfully construed face of the surfer floating there as he prepared himself for the almost two wave hold down he was about to experience even with his floatation vest securely strapped to his chest, I can almost hear how nonchalant he was as he paddled up to me about 45 minutes later and asked to see the clip.
Another fragment I can summon from the session was when once again surfer Keoni Watson paddled into a wave, this one bigger than the first, the biggest of the day perhaps, and as he passed by me, not 50 yards away how very concisely I thought to myself, "this is the most radical, and most special display of nature and I have ever seen."
Then it was time to go in. I remember I had been sitting there, watching these glorious feats by these men of the sea, by these people I had so much admiration and respect for and knowing perfect contentment for both Adam and myself, knowing no loss of pride for not catching any of these crazy waves, and just being so happy that I got the chance to witness such a spectacle. It was time for us to accept what we saw as a learning experience and get the hell out while things were still good. Then something truly magical happened. Adam caught a wave.
I was sitting there in the channel, getting cold and wanting to go in when I looked up and saw my little brother paddling for a wave as big as the house we grew up in. He paddled and I held my breath. He paddled and I couldn't believe it, this was his chance, this was the moment we had both been waiting for. As he got lifted up by the wave I became hysterical. I laughed and screamed and cursed and was happy. When he caught that big wave and finally stood up, we both stood up, and together, we climbed up onto a new plateau of the wave riding experience. The wave itself was nothing especially special, it was not the biggest wave of the day, and certainly not something the men out there would consider a great feat to ride, but for us it was everything, it meant we could do it, we could survive out there in those conditions and begin to know the ocean in that strange way only those few do.
(Adam bottom turning on a solid one with Mt. Ka'ala in the backround)
Then shortly after the first wave, Adam caught another even bigger one. The second wave he shared with one of the gnarliest big wave, north shore watermen ever to live and Adam was honored to ride a wave with him. It was time to celebrate.
(Adam shares a wave with one of his hero's)
We paddled in almost the same way we came out. Got washed through the inside. Reached the sand, and each on our own, took a deep breath and one good long look out at the crazy Pacific we had just escaped. When we reached the truck, Megumi walked up to us and asked, "surf was good?" And, "Yes," we answered quietly glancing shortly at each other and then back to the sea, and then smiling as brightly as I have ever seen him smile Adam went on to say,"I need a beer," and we all laughed.
The End
