Ten Weeks in Waikiki: Four to six and coming up

Yes! Four to six and coming up this morning with a light Trade wind blowing, holding up the sweet dark faces. I am out before light, paddling with a small group, passing a young girl and an older guy. I haven't shaved yet this morning, and as I near the lineup I lift my shoulder and brush my jaw against it, using my whiskers to scratch an itch on my collarbone. With my face I can feel the heat in my shoulder muscles brought on by the half mile paddle out to the reef.

There are already five people out at Threes and a big set came through just as I cruised into the lineup. Normally I'd sit inside and suss things out, but that first set sends me paddling outside right away. The sun is dawdling, well below the horizon and the ocean and night sky are a palette of grayscale, subtle shifts in shade distinguishing between sky, cloud, and the shifting swell faces. In the pre-dawn darkness, as I left the beach and began my paddle out, Orion stood tall in the Southern sky and sparkled. As I sit outside the lineup, the ocean moves toward me, a darkening parabola, heaving a peak skyward. I paddle for two waves, misjudging in the darkness and turning too soon on the first, taking myself out of the wave. On the second, I drop in late, my front foot planted much too far forward and I go straight down the face and drive the nose of the Aipa stinger right into the trough of the wave and under the surface. Pearled.

I get the rhythm sorted out on my next chance, realizing that I’m surfing much bigger sets than anything I’ve surfed this trip. I start catching the bigger waves, quickly dropping into a couple and feeling a thrill from the speed increase of bigger, faster waves than I’ve yet surfed here.
The first wave I go left, holding a fast line just ahead of the lip for a hundred yards. I have to crash through whitewater on the paddle out. I slip over the tops of the last couple of waves of the incoming set just before they break.

My next wave is a fast drop followed by a hard, quick turn, just as a long wall opens in front of me. I ride down the line just to the point where the wave is about to close out. It’s light out now and I turn down the face for speed and crank a hard turn left back up to the top, driving my board through the lip, springing headfirst off the yellow deck and over the backside of the wave.

As I waited for the next set to roll through a wahine set up directly outside me and paddled to my right to claim a wave. I pulled out and watched her pass down left in front of me. When she came back out and tried her positioning trick again, I stroked in to the wave and popped up first, ignoring her and driving down the line. I rode that one the furthest I’ve ridden a wave here yet. I connect to the inside by trimming through the soft section of the wave between outer and inner reefs. I walk out on the nose, planning through the flatter section, taking advantage of the board’s length to distribute my weight where it will create the most speed. I step quickly back to the tail, creating a slight stall as the wave begins to pick up and I plane out on the flat. As the rising wave face steepens under me, I shift my weight, press on the balls of my feet, and the left rail grabs into the water’s surface. I’m back in the pocket, cruising through the inside section. I end the ride about 300 yards from where I started for my shortest post-session paddle-in of the trip. I stroke in the last 150 yards to the beach, near Tower 1 on the Ewa side of the groin.

I did an evening session after work. There was a larger crowd than usual and when an unexpected outside wave popped up I was far enough outside that I sat and rode over the top. As the line of swell raised toward me the quiet area between the previous wave, already past the large group of surfers, and the peak of this incoming face filled with the sound of all twenty surfers scratching to avoid catching the big set wave on their heads.

More tomorrow....