Hawaii – December 6 – 8, 2006
Hawaii wasn’t originally in our plans since, well, it isn’t exactly a budget-travel destination. I mean people usually save it for honeymoons, weddings or anniversaries, not backpacking. We’d both always dreamed of going there for a vacation but the distance and cost kept us away. So when we got the offer from our friend Matt to crash with him for the week while he was in Oahu for the Pipeline Masters surfing contest, it was too good to turn down – a week in paradise surfing and watching the best surfers in the world compete in what is basically the Super Bowl of surfing. For this, we figured the travel budget rules could be bent just a bit.
I met Matt through his wife, Robin, who I used to work with. Robin liked arrogant lawyers and talking about law about as little as I did, so when we had cases together we would always talk about surfing – whether it was about the trip Jenny and I were planning, her husband Matt who loved to surf, or his brother, 8 – time world champion Kelly Slater. I finally got to meet Matt a few weeks before we set out back on the road for a surf session and he was as cool as Robin described. He was planning a trip to Hawaii with a buddy to surf and support his brother the same time that we would be on the road, so he graciously offered to let us crash.
Jenny and I arrived a few days before the others so we picked up our car and made our way to the North Shore. The warm air felt great on our faces and the tropical colors abounded but we were exhausted and a bit overwhelmed at once by the confusing highway system and difficult names. Never-the-less, the drive North through mountains, green hills and pineapple fields was charming. The waves were a bit stormy so I stayed out of the water, instead shopping for a board to use for the week. My longest board at home is a 6’8” so I thought one that size would be fine for Hawaii. Ha. I should have listened to the salesman and picked out a board about 2 feet longer to help with paddling into the huge waves but instead I got a nice, used 6’8”, which seemed more familiar. More about that later. We spent the rest of the afternoon searching about the area and were immediately surprised how rural it was. After hearing how crowded the island was, we glad to find it was nothing like Florida or California, rather like a nice country town on the beach. We checked into our temporary lodging, the North Shore Backpackers Hostel.
NSB is pretty bare-bones, meant for surfers looking for a cheap place to crash. A charming collection of cottages across the street from the beach, I’m sure it fits the bill for most of its guests. However, for a married couple looking for some peace, quiet and a clean bathroom, it wasn’t exactly what we were hoping. First, we got stuck in the largest guest house with about 12 of Australia’s most energetic youth who loved having their mates over for drinks. After dealing with some crowd noise the first night while getting over our jet lag, we settled in and got to know some of the kids who were really cool. The usual stories – fresh out of school, traveling everywhere because, hey, that’s what people from Australia do. We did not, however, warm up to the mess in the place or the bathrooms, which had a permanent layer of nasty grime on everything. We’d both seen nicer places all through Central America and I’ve seen cleaner frat house bathrooms so we were happy to get out after two nights.
We spent the 2nd day exploring and trying to find a place to surf. Without a guide I was a little overwhelmed by all the spots and the rough conditions, but I really wanted to get in the water instead of waiting for Matt, who had surfed the island before. It was far too big for Jenny, so she opted to take photos and explore. Most of the places we checked only had the top pros out practicing so I figured I’d leave it to them. At one spot, Alligator Rock, I met a cool local who offered to show me the way out. This was important since there was really no beach to get in the water from, but instead a collection of rocks that you had to navigate to get out to the waves. After paddling out, I learned that the fun little waves we saw from shore were actually heaving walls of water 2 to 3 times my height! I’d never seen waves that big let alone paddled out to them. Hawaii has channels (called rip tides everywhere else and avoided like the plague) that make it easier to paddle out, but, once you’re out there, you’re a small thing floating in the sea. My new buddy, having shown me the way out on his barge of a longboard, paddled even further out to sea to chase some giant waves. After I tried fruitlessly to catch some of the behemoths on my mini board, I noticed a big problem – my leash rope had somehow lost its knot so the leash was attached to my ankle at one end and was floating uselessly at the other.
As some set waves broke further out, mounds of whitewater as tall as I came rolling through like a freight train. I duck dove under them and was washed around like a rag doll but I managed to hang onto my board. All I could think about was losing my board and having to swim in against the current, with the huge waves breaking, and trying to navigate the rocks near shore. Forget catching a wave, I just needed to get in. Trying to improvise, I ripped the elastic key-holder string out of my shorts pocket and used it to tie my leash back to my board. The chances were good it wouldn’t even hold if I had to ditch my board to dive under another wave, but I hoped it would give me some kind of safety net. Just then, a nice medium – sized wave (8 feet) came along which I was able to catch and ride just long enough to get closer to shore. I paddled in the rest of the way disgusted at my first surf attempt in Hawaii and with a new respect for anyone surfing there.
Tags: Travel
pcschroeder
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