(10 photos below)
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I said that I would do it, and I did. I surfed Honolua Bay. Everyone
in the water was talking about how good it's been for the last four days, which I was on Oahu, and
downright knew the swell direction and winds were good for Honolua. If I could do it all over
again, heck, I think I might have wanted to be in Maui (here!) first, then go to Oahu. But that's just
the way it happened. A local in the water said 2004 absolutely sucked for the Bay, last year was a bit
better, and this year there "have been reports of at least 20 rides from Coconuts to Kewalos."
Wow. Can't imagine. What that means is that it's a three point ride of over 500 yards or so.
Here's how my transition day went, and it's a fuckin' miracle that I even got to surf the bay
at all.
1. Wake 6:00.
2. Call for bellman. No answer. Have to load car in two trips myself.
3. Airport. Return car. Shuttle to terminal. Check in. 1.5 hours early. Breakfast.
4. Flight delayed. No answer given why.
5. Announcement: Flight mechanical problems.
6. Announcement: Flight delayed 30 more minutes.
7. Announcement: Flight delayed in Kauai. Huh?
8. Announcement: Flight delayed 30 minutes. etc. etc. etc.
9. I'm freaking. I know there are waves. I almost become a security threat.
10. I see that my surfboard and luggage are gone off the tarmac.
11. I realize there are at least four flights to Maui an hour going off.
12. I go to a gate, standby, and easily get on an alternate flight. My shit will be there already, I know it.
13. It is.
14. Maui is a NIGHTMARE. It's so crowded at airport and car rentals that it's unbelievable. A total mob of luggage
and humanity. I'm freaking again.
15. Wait in line of 50 people and get an upgrade from a Neon to a Jeep Cherokee 4x4 with 9 miles on it
for $25.99 a day. Score. Now I can drive the dirt roads of Maui.
16. I have to find my way to the hotel. Takes about 50 minutes. Maui is spectacular from air and land.
17. They won't let me take my surfboards into my hotel room "because they damage the rooms."
18. "What the fuck are these people talking about? Do they think I'm going to smash it around like Jimi Hendrix
and a guitar or something? I argue. They say put it in a storage room. I say you're out of your friggin mind, to
myself of course. But in order to surf the bay immediately (it's now about 4 p.m.), I have no room to argue.
So I make the morons watch me unpack the Rocket, put the fins on, put it in a bag, put a leash on it, take
it to the car, then keep DP in the travel bag, and I run with my luggage to my room, throw everything on the
ground, grab a towel, grab a rash guard, and haul ass to the nice new cherokee, which now has 50 miles on it.
19. I don't know how in god's name I'm able to find all these surf spots, but I roughly know where to go.
especially since I see whitewater coming from a point less than 10 minutes from my hotel. I'm freaked
again - I just took a wild eyed guess on Expedia dot chom about the location of the break and my hotel.
20. I'm freaking out because, for crying out loud, there's 3 to 5 foot of swell in the water, not too
crowded, heading toward sunset, and I'm putting my reef booties on and running ass down the red dirt
trail trying not to fall over the edge or slip on the grass or slip into the lava rocks.
21. Many people come out of the water as I go in. "I wish I had some of those," they said, feet bloody,
looking at MY REEFWALKERS. HA HA HA HA HA!
22. I ask a pretty girl how to paddle out. I know the lava rock jump deal. Don't want to do it. I'm strong as an
ox right now. In most respects. But we'll leave medical details out because it will spoil the story. She shows
me the way. "Stay as close to those rocks as you can," she said, "if you don't jump off the lava rock." Oh sure,
fine, right, yup, as close as you can. So I pretend the lava is the O.B. Pier and pray that the sweeping
current will take me away from them like girlie says. It' does.
23. I paddle in a frenzy for third peak. It looked the best, breaked the most consistent in my frantic
10 minutes of getting changed from flight to surfer dude, and it's the least crowded.
And maybe a good starting point. Get it? Right.
24. I get pitched on my first wave, about 6 foot on the face - just finished. Too eager, too amped, too tired
and hot and sweaty and distracted. I get worked hard under water. And I come up and look - and there
it is. The infamous CAVE. I know it well from photos and descriptions. And there are three more waves
coming. Fuck me. I'm going in there my first wave? No way!
I paddle my ass off like I'm getting caught inside by a 15 foot set at Salsipuedes and start making some
progress. I arrive back outside the the lineup visibly shaken and cursing myself for doing this
the same day as the travel bullshit, but if I don't - who knows. I must surf this place. But I'm shaken
up and scared. And the sun is going down. So I chat up a couple of guys to chill down and be cool, and it works.
I'm back together again. A truely local guy says it's his birthday. A set comes. I have the wave,
it's so beautiful. But I back off and give it to him. He rips it all the way inside, gone for 10 minutes. Comes
back out. Says thank you bruddah, can't believe you give me dis wave, you go on next one." So I do. The next set
comes and I put everything aside and I'm going. A guy gets hosed upwave from me and I go. And it's a great wave,
steep as hell, yet mushy, fast as hell, but kind of warbly. I come back out. I tell this to local. Local
says dis is how wave is today, brah, earlier in week, it breaking so kine. I'm somewhat crestfallen.
But I get my third wave, and it's getting dark. I paddle back out, and have to paddle into the entry/exit
area because that's the only way you can get in. You can't catch a wave and go in. You have to paddle
in, kinda like K38. It was hard doing that, but there was NO way I was staying out till dark. Even
Jade wouldn't want to walk up the red dirt and lava and grass trail in the dark. No way bruddah. I make
it in, with my reef booties, of course. The coral on the beach is PHENOMENAL. I pick up a piece and tuck
it in my boardshorts for the memory. Who knows if the place will break again.
The sun sets in a fireball red blazing rage behind Kapalua. And I'm undressing and it bears note that,
when I was in the lineup for only that 1.5 hours, that I, ah, believe, er, that it's the first time
I've ever surfed in the shadow of a fucking volcano. Right! I decided to hang at the bay, since I was
there, for as long as I want. Afterall, I just caught three waves there - and it was supposed
to be the gem of the trip and who knows when I'll ride it again. So I stay.
I go up to a guy in his beat up VW van about an hour later. Just kindly ask if it's been breaking
and if he thinks there might be waves tomorrow? And he turns at me, takes a hit off a big ol fattie,
blows out the smoke, and says, "Nah man, it's on the fade."
I say, "Okay, bruddah, I maybe do the morning check. Danks."
Maybe Jimi Hendrix IS at my hotel afterall.
There's a lot more to say about it, but the fact of the matter is that I surfed Honolua Bay
on my fly and surf day. It was so hard to do it was incredible. But more on that later. I have to put
together these photos and stuff. The internet cafes in Maui pretty much suck, I had to get a photo CD made
first, then come here to do this. So it's taking two and three steps at stores to piece this together,
and I wanted to at least do one entry live from Maui as part of my trip. And this is it.
When I come home I don't know if people are going to recognize me. Seriously.
UPDATE: That was all on Friday. It was flat as a pancake on Saturday morning and I spent 8 hours
driving the two and one lane roads of the North Coast. I took over 300 digital photos. Here are some
of my favorites.
- Cliff
