40
story by
Cimen Mie
photos by
Linn Mi
»
I’ve just Learned a seCret handshake.
It’s sunrise here on Oahu’s North Shore,and I’m walking toward the ocean through a wild coconut grove. A radiant white-haired surfer, stillglistening from her dip in the sea, crosses my path. She glances at the 11-foot longboard balanced onmy head, then nods conspiratorially. It’s a Hawaiian surfer’s greeting that says: “You’re about to expe-rience a rare joy that most will never know, but we do.” Just offshore, four women are bobbing in theswells, basking in the secret I’m here to discover for myself. Five other ladies splash into the salty shal-lows beside me. We’re all here because of the same reason: Queen Kelea. Hundreds of years ago, the
revere ancient Hawaiian chiefess surfe these same waters. Legen
has it that Kelea’s love for surng not only attracted her king, but
also eventually rove her to leave him for one who live closer to the waves. I woner what it is about Hawaii’s surf that has inspire such
devoted enthusiasm in women throughout the ages — and whethera week at the Kelea Surf Spa will be enough to inspire me too. Forthe moment, watching this tight-knit club of which I’m not a mem-
ber yet navigate the waves towering above them, all I feel is nervous.
New surfersead out frote Kelea SurfSpa on Oau.
43
Deceber 2009
ISLANdS.com
It’s been less than a year since her last chemotherapy treatment and a little more than 10 years since her son
died. Yet here, in Hawaii’s warm water, all of that appears
to have washe away. “Surng was the only reason I got
up in the morning,” she had whispered to me earlier,
looking out over the sea. “At one point, I couln’t even
stand up, but I paddled out on my board, held on andcaught waves like it was a body board. I was so excited,I’d be shouting ‘Yeah! Woo hoo!’” But I didn’t under-
stan. I kept asking how she ha manage to surf while
suffering from the draining effects of chemo. “I can’t tell you what it’s like,” she said. “You just have to experienceit for yourself. The world looks different when you’re outsurng.” I grab my board, take a deep breath and jump in.
Senses heightened by the new and unknown, ourtribe of new surfers ooh and aah at the bands of pine-apple sunlight stretching out through uttering palmfronds, the great green volcanic peaks standing sentry in the distance and the skinny trumpet sh swimming
aroun us. Elenice Senn, co-founer of Kelea Surf Spa,
paddles behind me. “Some women who come to ourcamp are afraid, but they give themselves an opportu-
nity to learn and they do it for themselves, just like Kelea.She surfed for herself, and like her, women come here toleave everything else behind and just enjoy surng.” We
quietly skim across the surface of the sea, skirting an
outstretched shoulder of land covered with a feral forestthat’s layered as densely as a king’s feathered cloak. “Just
look aroun — there’s nothing like this anywhere else.”
I spot two enormous turtles swimming beneath my board and nearly fall off when I crane my neck to watch
them. Gripping the board’s rails with white knuckles,I look to the misty blue horizon to steady myself butteeter again when I see a bus-size humpback whale
shoot out of the water in the istance.
I’ve visited Hawaii more than 15 times. I’ve explored
hien waterfalls to remote beaches. But being out inthe ocean at eye level with the water is a surprise.
In my daze, I’m caught off guard by a small wave that tosses me into an airy cloud of whitewash. Holding my breath I plunge under the Pacic. My limbs golimp at the eerie high-pitched song of whales that whistle and moan nearby, as
clear as if it were playing through heaphones. I think of Kelea ipping her boy
in the sea for
kapu kai
; my violent plunge is so different from the puricationceremony I am picturing Kelea taking part in. When the wave passes, I don’t
want to get up. Instea, I linger unerwater as long as my lungs allow. Maybe to
become a real surfer, a true
wahine
, I need to keep falling in.
|
surf with pros
>>
44
Deceber 2009
ISLANdS.com
Deceber 2009
ISLANdS.com
»
I’m looking or real surers.
A mere mile and a half from my beginner’s lesson at the Kelea Surf Spa is the world-famous Pipeline break, the proving ground, the legendary hollow wave that draws
the best surfers from around the globe. But right now the water looks at. Still,I count 80 people tightly bunched together beyond the break vying for a chanceto tame a demon that’s not there. Nearby, a multitude of long-lensed cameras
strappe to ile photographers are waiting. For what, I on’t know.
Amid the men furiously jockeying for position is a single pink rash guard. As the
woman wearing it rises an falls with the swell, I feel as if I’m sitting on my boarbesie her instea of here on the soli beach. When I turn my gaze farther out on
the ocean, I see a liquid monster rise up to
become the size of a house in an instant, its
sheer vertical wall sucking all the water from
the shallow coral reef below. The pink-clad
surfer igs her arms into the swelling water
and outraces the men beside her. The guyspull back and shout, “Go KK!” She weight-lessly ies down the jaw of the beast and
isappears behin its teeth that threaten to
pulverize her. When the wave chomps down,
I gasp and feel the rush in my gut. My own
morning surf session is still fresh in my mind.
Then the wave spits her out the side of its
mouth an shoots her towar shore.
The cameras, quiet before, are now r-
ing. I nally realize who is wearing the pink
rash guard: 31-year-old pro surfer Keala
Kennelly. I recognize her from
Blue Crush
, a 2002 hit movie about female surfers, which was set here on Oahu’s North Shore. Many
credit the lm, and Keala, for the currentboom in women’s surfing. Her name isstrikingly similar to Queen Kelea’s. ButKeala’s version of surng seems like a dis-tant relative of the sport that the ancientspracticed with 25-foot solid-wood boards. Keala’s name is appropriate; she is
the new version of Hawaiian royalty. I request an auience with her. She agrees,an soon we’re sitting own at the local surfer bar, Shark Cove Grill.
Noisy roosters walk past our table with puffed chests, followed closely by a group
of male surfers still wet from Pipeline an Waimea who boast louly about their
best rides of the day. When they see Keala, they grow silent, take a table nearby andlean in to eavesdrop. “After
Blue Crush
, you saw a big boom in women’s surng and
a big increase in the number of women in the water,” she says. “That movie mae
the statement that surng is not just for the boys, and a woman’s place doesn’t have
to be on the beach watching. Surng can change your life, and so can this place. And that’s open to women of all ages now.” The men raise their eyebrows andsnap upright in their chairs. I feel like taming the ocean.
|
catching the wave
>>
K r i S t i N S c h O l t z / c O v e r e D i m a g e S / a S p / g e t t y i m a g e S
Add a Comment
CindieLynneAKACInleft a comment