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Session No.: 33
The day I was waiting for turned out to be the most frustrating day of the trip. I was really hoping
to get the real Hawaiian Punch today, but instead had to settle for scraps surfing a very tame
inside beach break at the pier at Hanalei. I guess it's a good thing I actually DID go out,
but it hardly counts. I feel shame.
I've gotten into the routine of going to the Princeville Resort and checking several spots at once,
and of course, to take photos of hopefully epic conditions to show everyone at home what I've been
riding. Today I woke up especially early again, at 5:45 a.m., and was at the resort checking it about
7 a.m. What I saw made me want to jump back in the SUV and haul ass with DP and get out in the lineup
immediately. I awoke to rain and much clouds and wind at the hotel, however, as I headed north
by northwest, the wind seemed to be much calmer.
The other thing that was apparent was that ALL vehicles that had surfboards on the racks or out the back
of trucks were all heading SOUTH, away from where I was going. That kind of gave me the willies. Because on
the morning local news on the radio, the lifeguard reports read out to the listeners said that the west
side of the island had 12 to 18 foot surf, while north facing spots like Hanalei, were smaller, 8 to 12 foot.
I then thought, well, all the locals are heading to the west side via southern routes. Fine. Go there,
I want to surf Hanalei at size. Size and lines to the horizon are what greeted me at the lookout point.
I got all stoked. It was glassy and offshore/sideshore, and there were like, dude, only eight guys out.
However, they were all sitting really wide of where the waves seemed to be breaking, and I was like,
well, watch out because that means there are big sets. And it was building by the minute as I stood there
and watched. The other thing that was happening was that the rain and wind had also started to catch up
with this part of the coast. Another guy came to check it just as I was leaving, and in my rush back to
the SUV, I said, "Dude, it's glassy and 628 foot with only eight guys, I'm on it." And just left as
fast as I could.
So I got to Pine Trees and took some more photos, and went to the bay parking lot, and in this short
period of time, it was pouring rain and a windstorm of epic proportions came up, even this early. And these
HUGE sets started pouring on to the reef, and it was like the entire bay became a cauldron of
heaving water, complex rips, cloudbreaks offshore, and some broken boards, snapped leashes and bodies
getting washed into the inside reef. Like, that fast. I think I heard that music a couple of weeks
ago back home, eh?
So I became very cautious and hesitant, where only 30 minutes before I was ready to just put on my gear,
grab DP and go out to the bay. It was like pulling back the reins of a horse going 30mph, a screaching
hault to all thought processes. It was really freaky to say the least.
So I watched and waited and maybe the storm and wind would pass. But it got worse and worse and worse
and bigger and bigger lunges of water unleashed on the reef, and no one else was going out. The parking
lot was really empty. That's another sign something is wrong wrong. Warning signals all over the place.
I saw these GIGANTIC lefts breaking thousands of yards away and thousands of yards worth of paddling
breaking in the middle of the bay, and one way outside the northwest tip that was ginormous and cloudbreaking.
It was unreal. So I got in the car and drove around the bay over there, as people told me these waves
were options to consider. So there were really only about ten guys at the bay, then only three at one
left, and two at the other. More warning signs. Hardly anyone was catching any waves. More warning signs.
Those observations were totally conflicting with my desire to paddle out. I felt like there was a rope
tied around me stopping me from going out, each time I wanted to lunge forward and dive in and paddle,
there was a stiff tug on that rope.
So I watched as the surf got larger and larger still, the wind upping to 20mph and the currents
just swirling all over the place. I used all my observation skills and tried to imagine myself paddling
out to this one left that was dredging like some Indo dream, except it was stormy and naughty
and dark out now, and wet from the rain - and I just wanted to paddle out. I looked for routes, and saw
two options, one safe and one questionable. Having DP with me, paddling through these trecherous rips
wouldn't be too much of a problem. I can paddle him through just about anything. I'm not joking when I say
the paddle would be upwards of 1,000 yards, either. Because it was. It was so far away, in many
respects. But I felt so close to going.
There was a guy with a knee brace and a helmet and a red board over here on the other side away from Hanalei,
and I walked up to him and asked him a couple of questions about the breaks, and correctly identified
the routes to get out to the waves. He wasn't a real friendly guy, that's for sure. He stood there looking
for as long as I did, after I walked away because he was pretty rude, and he put his crap away and left. Part
of what I was looking for with him was maybe he would be a guy I could paddle out with. But after talking
to him, forget it. All I needed was a local or someone to go with me, really. That would have sealed the
deal for me. Deal or no deal, and it was no deal again at this point.
There were a couple of options left, both a bit of a drive more to the northwest. I knew what I would find there,
and was confirmed upon arrival. It was even worse than where I had come from at the bay. So back to the bay
again with the mindset that I was going to paddle out at Hanalei and not be driving around all over the place.
It was a good plan, until I went out on the pavillion pier and watched those who WERE out. I was really
happy previously surfing the place three times at head high, getting to know the takeoff spots, asking
people what it was like when it got bigger, all that preparation stuff for today, you see. Lots of thought
and energy went into planning for this.
But what I saw was pretty horrendous storm surf now. Short interval. No lulls to speak of. Raging rivers
of current dragging people everywhere, draining off the reef, tide going low. About one in twenty or thirty
waves, at my estimate, at Hawaiian 10 foot, were not closing out. Familar with how the reef works, at least
from my experience, the guys were taking off at the point, and then doing high speed kickouts, bailouts,
ejections and getting closed out on at the flat rock section, where I had been surfing the whole time I have
been here. I could not imagine a 25 foot face detonating in eight feet of water and getting caught inside
there, especially with no lulls. The wind was whipping 30 foot horsetails off the top, and it was taking
the lips of the waves like, one mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, BOOM. That's heavy
shit. Plus the bowl section at the end was just non-existent. A total closeout section. So there was really
only one section. A huge takeoff, speed run to flat rock, then it's over.
It looked really unappealing, especially so for a guy like me who's as finiky as a cat about being careful with
wave selection. This was a 25 foot face crap shoot. It was not what I wanted to see. The hard part is having
the ability and fitness level, but then not having the stoopidity to just paddle out. Sometimes that's a curse.
Sometimes I envy guys who don't give it a second thought, and I probably had about 100 thoughts by this
time, about two hours after I initially got there.
So my brain defeated my body, as more broken boards and guys swimming in could be seen coming toward
the rivermouth. I didn't have the desire to break DP in half, hit the reef, and swim in. That was kinda
not the plan for me.
I hung out all damn day. The rain went away, the wind got windier still, the surf continued to rise,
the number of people out remained very low, so I laid low, too. I just hung out on the pavillion
pier for hours, watching guys make a few and get obliterated on dozens of dozens of huge closeouts, surfing
the waves with my mind, and really, I wanted to go out, but my mind just didn't see me making
any waves. Hundreds of waves went unridden. Only a select few local chargers on 10 and 12 foot
guns were occasionally getting incredible rides. If you knew the place, then it was a good day.
If you did not, I think it was a bad day to be out. One wrong move and you were finished and then
in a bad situation. It was a comfort level thing for sure. Just like back at home. I'll jump into
99.9 percent of any situation at home while other people are sitting there and looking at it, and at me,
hauling ass down the stairs and going out and getting 20 waves. So it was mostly my turn to be the
sitter. It was very, very difficult.
I considered paddling out into the generous channel, watching, checking it out, sightseeing, if you will,
but the rip was incredible. I did not want to get dragged into the middle of the bay, to be quite honest. But
I kept thinking to myself, once you get out there, you'll see you can do this, and then you can paddle over
and nail a few. I was really close to doing that. It upped my odds to 50/50 and not 0/0. That rope
seemed to slacken when I thought this way. It was so very difficult.
I thought maybe things might calm the hell down, maybe the wind would die, maybe the swell would come down,
maybe the tide would fill in and straighten things out. With watchful eyes I thought these things over
six more hours, the swell did ease back, but the wind did so much damage to the surface that it was still
just a mess. I wanted to surf good conditions, you know, I guess like everyone else. Maybe I should have followed
all those other cars and trucks south, eh? It's an unfamiliarity - you have to know where to go, not only
when to go, and I only had 50 percent of the equation figured out. That's a failing grade. I like being
an honor student.
I was about to just go back to hotel and got really sulky. Depressed sulky. Pissed off sulky.
I watched the surf schools by the pier all damn day in two to three foot surf. I had the Rocket with
me, too. But it was too mushy for the Rocket. I said to myself that I'm on Kauai, I'll probably never
be back, the water is warm, the sun is now out, it's 4 p.m., just leave. The day is over. But I would have
never forgiven myself of not going for a surf. Not because of the size, but because I'm here, and it would
just be ridiculous not to go out somewhere for crying out loud. So I surmised that I could use DP as
a longboard, because it works in small surf. The Rocket don't work in anything under four foot and needs
push. The gentle waves at Pavillions was the only option. I even fought over not going out there,
but I thought that I might not even put DP in the water here, and that would just really piss me off,
bringing him to the islands a second time and not getting it wet? Yeah right.
So yes, I paddled him out next to all the white, overweight tourists wearing rash guards and UV hats
and all kinds of wierd stuff. I thought maybe too I could wear all my gear and fit right in without
someone making some comment about my hat or reef walkers or vest or whatever. So I just went to the SUV
and put on the hat and a rashguard (the bottom at Pavillion Pier is all sand) and paddled out into
the messy surf there. The water was both warm and cool refreshing, the sun was starting to get low in the
sky and I guess I just wanted to be in the water. So that was my biggest decision of the day as far
as I was concerned, to get in the water no matter where it was and to use DP.
And then the, like, way far outtest thing happened.
Someone paddled up to me and called me by my name.
I was like, "Huh?" Duh? What?
It was Janet (Jan-et) from San Diego and the Cliffs. "Is that you Jordan? What are you doing here?" she asked.
The day was bizarely complete.
One of the guys at the Cliffs is getting married here this coming weekend. I've know that for months.
And apparently a huge crew is coming over for it. My trip and decision to be here had nothing to do
with that, but yet, here was Janet, followed by Kevin, paddling up to me surfing about as crappy waves
as you could want in the Hawaiian islands. Oh, I was reef-walker-less AND leashless. Go figure.
They are here early for the wedding I guess, I think she was more shocked than I was, to tell you the
truth. I was embarassed about being inside, actually, and not outside. But you know, seeing them,
I really thought then that I should just go inside, get my leash, put on my vest, and charge for the
point. Seeing them gave me confidence - familiar faces in the water - but it was a false sense of
security, but I almost did it anyway. But that rope tugged again as I sat in the water and looked outside
and saw how huge it was and how much it was closing out, still.
They left the water pretty quickly and just hung out on the beach. They were fresh off the plane.
I talked to them about the outside and Kevin's assessment was that "It looked pretty
dumpy" meaning it was just dumping closeouts and pounding, relentless sets. And he was right.
Good way to sum it up. Mostly I thought it was out of control.
I caught about six or eight
waves that left a lot to be desired, and it was pretty hairballed being in the water with so many kids
and tourists on all manner of rental equipment and such. Which was more dangerous, I thought,
this situation or the one outside, 1,000 yards away?
It was not a matter of limits, I think. I wanted it very, very badly, all day. I don't think it was a matter
of common sense, because I have that. I think mostly it was my desire to ride good, quality waves with
fair odds and I think the odds were stacked against me as far as the lines to the horizon were.
I wish it would have been a clean swell. I would have liked very much to, and was ready for,
some harrowing drops into 25 foot faces on DP. I was prepared, but I don't think the ocean
was today. I don't feel like I pussed out. Maybe it was like going shopping for a certain item
and going from store to store to store and seeing knockoffs or things that were close, then you
reach that last store, all the shopping and looking you can take, you see something you might
like, but it's not exactly what you want to pay for, and it's hard to go home after your searching
and your desire to fulfill, and you walk out of that last store and give up, thinking
that maybe you might find what you are looking for another time. It's an unsatisfied
urge, a muffled impulse. I think that's exactly how I felt.
Don't be fooled by the photos. You have no idea of how big some of those waves
are. Just compare them to the people, or to the cliffs or the rocks. Those two turquoise ones
are 30 foot face bombs detonating. Easily.
- Cliff
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