Tuesday, December 08, 2009

The Eddie

The Quiksilver In Memory of Eddie Aikau Contest at Waimea Bay is an annual big wave paddle surfing contest that is the most famous in the world. It began 25 years ago. In honor of Hawaiian surfer legend and lifeguard Eddie Aikau, the contest is held between early December and early February only if the conditions are just right. Prior to today, it had only happened eight times.

The last time the Eddie went down was 2004. Everything has to be just right: the waves have to be enormous, the winds have to be down. Basically, you need the perfect storm. Today, we had just that. The Eddie happened, and I was there to see it.

It all started about a week ago, when a large storm in the Aleutian Islands began kicking monster swells towards Hawai'i. Forecasters predicted that we could see some of the biggest waves in 40 years. Inevitably, talk of the Eddie started up. I was skeptical because last year I remember hearing so much buzz about it that never matriculated. But this time, people were very confident. It wasn't a matter of if the Eddie would happen, but when.

On Friday, you could hear the waves rumbling. I went to a concert in Waimea Valley with my housemates that celebrated 1,000 years of surfing. The show was great, but the craziest thing I saw was to the right of the stage. Kelly Slater, the most famous surfer in the world, was standing there taking it all in. Kathryn and I walked over to him, got a picture, and talked for a while. Though he wasn't exactly bubbling with joy to see us, he was a pretty nice guy. And he was indeed there for the Eddie. I asked him what day he thought it would happen, and he said Tuesday.

Slater said it was happening Tuesday, so that's what I banked on.

The rest of the weekend, I stressed out over how I would be able to be there to see it. Here's what was so complicated: they don't determine if it's on or off until the day of. With sub plans and everything else, I knew it wouldn't be easy to fit an all-day surfing competition into my schedule.

By Sunday, I had come up with a gameplan. I would make sub plans for Monday just in case, but I would count on being at school unless it was on. If they made the call early enough, I could still call in for a sub that morning and I'd be set. If it wasn't on, I could use Monday to get everything set up so that I could take Tuesday off, and hopefully, it would happen Tuesday.

With the impending Eddie, Sunday was a stressful day, so the only way to stay sane was to go to the beach by my house.

The plan had one flaw: they didn't make the call until 7 a.m., which was way too late to call a sub. So I gambled. I would go to work on Monday just as normal, hoping and praying that the Eddie would be delayed just one day. I couldn't sleep that night. Is my plan going to work? Was Kelly Slater right about Tuesday? What if it's on tomorrow? If you would have told me three years ago that these were some of the things I'd be stressing out about, I would have just laughed. The waves were absolutely thunderous throughout the night.

The next morning at the gym before school, I had my phone next to me, just waiting for the news. I read every text with anticipation. Right as I walked in my classroom, I heard the news that I had wanted to hear so badly: it was off. So far, so good- my plan was on track. I got through the day, made sub plans, "called in sick," and headed home. Now I was really banking on Tuesday. If it didn't happen then, I don't know what I'd do.

That evening, since all my housemates had also taken Tuesday off, we were very relaxed. We were excited for the contest, and we listened to Christmas music, drank warm Christmas drinks, and smoked hookah. I had the gut feeling that we were on the verge of something we would never forget. I slept well that night.

This morning, my alarm went off at 5:15 as usual but I slept in until 5:50. They had said they were making the call at 6, and I didn't want to miss it. I packed a lunch, got everything ready, and waited. At 6, there was still nothing. Then 6:30 rolled around, everyone else was awake, and there was still no news. Seven a.m. Still nothing. Wouldn't they have already called it by now? If the conditions were right, wouldn't we know already? We decided to head out there irregardless, relying on faith and confidence. We hoped we weren't making the trip in vain. The plan: load our bikes into our friend Maggie's truck, drive down Kamehameha as far as we could before it became a parking lot, and ride our bikes the rest of the way.

As we pulled out of the driveway, Kathryn turned on the radio. It couldn't have been scripted better. The DJ immediately announced, "Up on the North Shore, they have made the decision that the Eddie is..." I swear he hesitated an extra 10 seconds to build suspension. "On!" The car erupted with joy. We all knew that today would be filled with nothing but greatness.

The truck was loaded up with bikes and we were only a short ride away from The Bay.

We parked the car only about two miles away from the bay and rode in. It felt good to cruise past all the cars. We arrived at 8 sharp, just in time for the first heat of surfers. We watched the first part from up above on the road, where you could look out over the bay and see just about everything.

There was clearly a vibe in the air that I had never felt before. A helicopter hovered above. The highway was lined with thousands of people on each side of the bay, and the beach itself was covered with towers and flocks of people. Waimea Bay herself was the main attraction, and her waters that are so glassy in the summer had become a corduroy of 20 plus foot swells that pulsed into the shore. The waves built up and crested at the mouth of the bay, and then became whitewater and broke violently close to the shore. They absolutely dwarfed the generally dominating Jump Rock. A crew of 5 jet skis, each with a professional rescue swimmer, zipped fearlessly through the monster waves to prevent any sort of disaster.
There was definitely a vibe at Waimea that I had never experienced before.

The first wave that was caught took my breath away. A large set rolled in and the tiny surfers began paddling furiously to catch it. A couple succeeded, and they raced down the seeminly endless face of the wave while thousands of pounds of whitewater waited patiently above them to collapse. When the wave started to flatten out, it became a mad dash to survive, almost like a snowboarder flying down a mountain with an avalanche behind him. I couldn't believe that any human being would have the guts to do something like that. But 28 of the best surfers in the world did, and they were out there proving it.

We made our way down to the beach and weaseled our way to the very front, laid out some towels, and watched the show. It basically became the best day at the beach ever. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, only a soft breeze, and right in front of us was the most presigious big wave surfing competition in the world. The crowd roared every time a big swell rolled in and then waited in anticipation as the surfers tried to catch the biggest wave. I felt a little bit like I was in the Roman Colloseum watching gladiators battle, because these guys were literally facing death every time a wave broke, and we were loving it. There were wipe-outs, boards snapped, and the water patrol did have to drag several surfers out of the dangerous shorebreak.

Kelly Slater went huge on this wave, and had the contest locked up until Greg Long took first in the final heat.

All in all, this was the most incredible sporting event I've ever been to. Even when the surfers weren't up and riding, the waves themselves provided endless awe and entertainment. It doubled as a beautiful day at the beach, there were thousands of people enjoying the scene, and the surfing was incredible. For eight straight hours, the sports fan, beachgoer, outdoorsman, and adventurer in me were all in absolute paradise.

With all the glamour and intensity of the event, one could forget that the original purpose of the contest was to honor the spirit of Eddie Aikau, the original lifeguard of Waimea Bay, and a big wave surfer who really revolutionized surfing at Waimea. As I sat in the sand watching the final heat, my jaw dropped as the waves got bigger and bigger, a grand finale of what was an absolutely epic day. A warm breeze rolled in from the water. I got the chills because it almost felt like the spirit of Eddie was reaching out to everyone, putting an exclamation point on his day and thanking us for being there.

When the contest finally wrapped up, I didn't want it to be over. I could have stayed there for hours just to relish the scene. We found our bikes and cruised all the way back to the house, capping off one of the greatest days of my life. I still can't completely grasp everything that happened and I know that I am very, very blessed. Eddie Would Go. Thank goodness I went.


As a man of The Kai, I have a deep appreciation for the spirit of Eddie Aikau.