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Entries in Grand Waikikian (2)

Friday
Sep182009

Hawaiian Waves With Dad

Guest blogger Steve Graham offers this report from his surfing excursion in Waikiki, where we spent our summer vacation this past Labor Day:
I had lunch with a guy a couple of weeks ago who was visiting L.A. from Hawaii. He was here on business but had taken a little time for R&R while he was here. He was a surfer and someone asked if he had hit the waves while he was is town.

"Why?" was all he said.

A couple of weeks later, I found myself on a long, smooth ride on a beautiful reef break in Waikiki, and I knew exactly what he meant.

I've been surfing around L.A. for a couple of years, but I'm still a beginner. So while in Hawaii, we opted to kateflowertake lessons from Errol (pronounced "Earl") Kane at the Hilton Hawaiian Village. Our mid-morning class was just three people, including my 9-year-old Kate. All of the instructors were about half my age (and weight) and were totally ripped and overly tan.

We started the lesson on the beach, with Errol explaining the basics. He taught us to go through three positions to stand up, ending in the classic "low and strong" crouch that he swore was the same one Kelly Slater still sported on the covers of all those cool surf magazines.

"If you stay low and strong I swear you will go 100 yards,"  Errol said as he raised his arms in the air. "Touchdown!"

It was easy to picture yourself riding a wave while we were still standing on the flat and non-moving beach. But having done this before, I paid a lot of attention to the instructions on how to fall properly. Kate, on the other hand, was practicing reaching out and touching the face of the wave as she mentally shot through the tube.

My board was as big as an aircraft carrier and was emblazoned with "Laird" in English script lettering. I presumed I was borrowing surfing legend Laird Hamilton's board and made a note to check around the cabana bar for him when we got back. We paddled out through the shallows to where the waves were breaking. It was pretty short ride getting out there, but I swear it was twice as far coming back.

Everyone got their own instructor. Mine "towed" me into the waves with his foot on the nose of my board, spun me around, and pushed me onto a wave. He did all of the hard work, and that let me concentrate on Errol's standing instructions. The wave gurgled gently below me, I leaned forward to my knees, then to one foot, and then up to the Low and Strong. The wave went on forever, and I had time to take in the sites: the tourists on the beach, the fantastic clouds rolling in over Honolulu, and the imposing mass of Diamond Head in the distance. As the wave petered out, I ditched and surfaced to see Errol with his arms up.

'Touchdown," I thought.

I smiled and rolled back onto my board for another go.

After about 10 waves and paddling back out, I was exhausted. But I couldn't get enough of this fantastic break. The waves were small and we were only catching the end of them, but it was a really great ride. As we caught a few more, I learned to read the swells and to paddle in on my own.

Kate was with her own instructor, and was doing well. We were pretty far apart most of the time, but on one wave I paddled in and stood up only to find myself surfing right next to my daughter. We both yipped at yelled for each other and rode side by side toward the beach. What a great way to spend time together.

By the time we decided to call it a morning, my nose was sunburned, my knees were rubbed raw, and my arms were jelly. But my heart was full of aloha spirit. As we slowly paddled back in, I was wishing we had a couple of more days so that I could perfect my Kelly Slater stance – and Kate could learn to shoot the tube.

Read other posts from Waikiki at:





Wednesday
Sep022009

Blogging By the Sea

carolyninhawaiiOK, this is going to be harder than I thought. "Sure, I can blog from Hawai'i," I had convinced myself. Yet here I sit, on a pretty little balcony at the Grand Waikikian in Waikiki, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. No matter what, my mind can't seem to grapple with the idea of opening this laptop as I peer down at the lagoon.

For inspiration, I've downed a bag of Maui-style potato chips and an Asahi beer, hoping that will spur me into "work" mode. But alas, all I can do is stare blissfully at the blue sailboat bobbing along the beach and think about what might be the shortest route down there.

But I, over the course of the next five days here with the family on O'hau, will do my darnedest to file a report not so much to brag about FINALLY getting out of Los Angeles after a long dry spell of no travel; but also to share a little piece of my family's experiences here in our 5oth state, which, by the way, turns 50 this year.

And I've already discovered that it won't all be quiet balcony moments and beer sipping. Kate and Jack have been slapping and snarling at each other since I rattled them out of bed at 6 o'clock this morning. And Steve and I must maintain the notion that "traveling with kids" is just "close quarters with no camp or school to spare us." Kate couldn't put down Teen Beat even though the vistas of this island were breathtaking, and Jack erupted into a major crying jag after we told him the Nintendo DS was off limits while we were watching the surf. I had barely stepped foot inside the room before a chorus of "I'm hungry!" shattered the sound of the waves echoing through the room.

But I know that soon (especially once they find the pool and beach), they, like me, will be able to shed those mainland trappings and find themselves just staring out to sea, relaxed, deep in their own thoughts and enveloped by sea breezes and the sounds of the islands.

I can hope anyway, right?