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It’s been a great winter for surfing, but Monday was enough to astonish even my jaded eyes. The morning started just so-so. We got to Kenaha at 9:00 and the wind was up a little more than the five MPH that Wind Guru had predicted–but not bad. The swell looked messy, but it seemed there were quite a few people out. My friend Paul and paddled out, and were greeted by an immense throng. Probably 20-30 stand up paddle surfers and 30-40 prone surfers. They were spread out across the good breaks of Kanaha–the channel left, the center, the near right, and the outer right breaks. I could see a good crowd down at the boneyard and a good sized group in the mushy wave in between Kanaha and the boneyard. There was even a good sized group out at uppers. Nice day, nice waves, people everywhere.
The mood was super mellow. There were so many nice waves coming through, of all shapes and sizes from nice inner chest high to occasional bombers, all with the usual user-friendly Kenaha slopey-ness. Just no reason to get your board shorts in a knot, even if people dropped in on you. What the heck.
When I was paddling out from a little wave a good sized set came in, and I counted nine people up and in the wave on the first one, eleven on the second. Looked like Gidget day at Malibu. I thought that would be a record, but an hour later I say thirteen people riding a nice wave. No harm, no foul, lots of waves. And people were playing nice–pulling out when they realized someone else was in a wave–even when they really didn’t have to. That wave with thirteen people in it thinned out to one gal going left and one guy going right before the wave sectioned. Pretty cool.
About noon Paul and I were parched and hungry. We paddled in and found Alan and Julie Sidlo on the beach, and we were soon joined by Paul’s wife Lisa, who had a rental car snafu to straighten out and amazingly had found the right beach to get Paul. I guess the fact that my jeep looks like a wandering circus probably helped all of them find us. We went to Main Street Bistro in Wailuku for lunch. Macadamia nut smoked brisket. Wow. I could have used a second sandwich, but I’m watching my food intake. Mostly I’m watching it enter my mouth.
Paul and I meandered back to the beach, but the wind was up a bit. We stalled a little bit, going by SIC to talk to Mark Raaphorst about his Catamaran, but he was busy glassing, so we went back to the beach and toughened up. As soon as we got to the break the wind started to drop. It turned a little south over the next hour, and then went away like someone had flipped a switch. Glass. Not too many people out, the waves pumped up a little with the occasional lineup cleaner, and we had a blast.
Whale mommas rolled on their sides fifty feet from the peaks. Baby whales fussed around them. Outside a big guy hammered the water with his tail. Bright sunlight. A line of white cattle egrets skimmed over the reef. High Stratus clouds. The West Maui Mountains and Molokai clear and grey blue in the distance. All a bit too much if you ask me–downright gaudy. At least there weren’t any rainbows and butterflies.
Surfed our guts out. About 3:30 Paul said he was beat and wanted to quit. I said “that’s crazy talk. This is surf till dark conditions. We may not see a session this good for another ten years. In three days you’re going back to Oregon. Do you want to spend the rest of the winter thinking about the afternoon you quit perfect head high glassy waves and warm water because you were tired?” Fortunately Paul listened to reason. We surfed on until we could both barely stand. I was missing waves in faces that only took a single stroke to drop. We wobbled in, took a cold beach shower that felt SOOO great on my toasted shoulders. Loaded up, called the ladies and headed for Flatbread. We barely spoke in the car. Barely spoke when we got there first, grabbed a table, got our beers and sat there waiting for our wives.
Nothing to say. Just long glassy waves when we closed our eyes, and the blue, blue of a perfect shoulder when we opened them.
Wow, I thought conditions were wild yesterday. Today the mouth of the channel that leads out from Maliko Gulch looked like death and destruction. Waves smashing on the rocks on both sides of the channel, spray everywhere, huge chop in the channel and whitecaps with spindrift blowing off them outside.
Perfect.
There was even a whale on the upwind side of the channel, about fifty feet from the channel rocks, doing a strange body-flip tail slap that I’ve never seen before, along with pectoral slaps that I swear shook the water. At one point he (or she) looked like a freshly hooked steelhead making it’s first splashy, flashy, pissed off run–if a steelhead was 50 feet long and weighed 45 tons. I thought “you stay over there and I’ll stay over here” as I paddled out. Must have worked, she did.
I was paddling with Randy and Chan, Brian, the other Randy (Royse) and Scott. This was Scott’s first Maliko run, and he was on Tracy Dudley’s F16. While we were getting the boards off the car, Scott set Tracy’s board down and it promptly blew over and whacked it’s rudder. I should have told him how likely that was. People don’t expect a 16 foot board to blow around, but the wind in the gulch is very fluky, and F16s are very light.
Bad news, the rudder was damaged. It looked like it might still be okay, but there was a crack up the side. I might have taken this as God or perhaps Karma’s way of telling me to wait in the jeep. But Scott seems made of sterner stuff. So he and Brian wrapped a little duct pae around the rudder and off they went. As we were paddling out I thought “they should have made a few wraps of that tape, if the fin is cracked up the side it won’t be able to take side thrust”. I kept those cheery thoughts to myself.
I stayed relatively close to Scott for the first third of the paddle. We were going about the same speed, and I wanted to make sure he was OK. I remember my first run pretty clearly. That’s not too hard even for my crusty brain since it was only four runs ago. He seemed to be dong fine. Right about as we passed Kuau the swells got kind of sporty and big, I had to pay close attention to what I was doing. At about 1.5 miles I fell down (as you can see below) and when I got back on the board I looked for Scott–no sign. I waited a bit for him, but didn’t see him anywhere. I thought perhaps he go his sea legs and zoomed away on that F16. at any rate, there’s not much you can do for someone else on a Maliko run except give them encouragement.
Turns out Scott lost his rudder about a half mile earlier, and was knee paddling his board. About the furthest you can reliably see a kneeling person in those swells is a few hundred feet.
A little aside about GPS traces. The one above is a screen shot from Ascent, which is subscription software for GPS training. Ascent thinks I’m riding a bicycle, but that’s OK, Stand Up Paddle boards are the bicycles of the sea. The light blue trace is altitude. I’d like to ditch it, but I haven’t figured out how. The green trace is speed. Distance is the X axis and the green Y axis is in MPH, with the top number being 18 MPH. I know it’s hard to read, but I needed to fit it on the page. I’ll probably reinstall letterboxing capability just for GPS traces. I hit 16.2 MPH max speed on this run. Pretty fast for a little gumby board.
You can tell when I fell by the downward spikes that reach zero. the shorter downward spikes are checks–where I ran into the back of a swell and buried the nose. Doesn’t quite stop you, but close. Looks like I fell 19 times. That’s an improvement over the 30 times in Malko 4. Upward spikes are big swell rides. the shorter rides probably go nearly as fast, but the GPS doesn’t get enough time to record full speed. As you can see, Gumby is pretty much catching swells all the time, but it doesn’t get a lot of those great long rides. but when it does–hoo haw.
I got to the beach and everyone was there but Scott. Oops. About 15 minutes later we spotted him at the harbor mouth. good news. It took him a very long time to paddle in from there. The wind was almost straight on against him after he made the turn. When he finally made it, Randy Royse went down to the beach to help him, the rest of us hung around the cars. No swcott, no Randy. fifteen minutes passed and they finally showed up. Not only had Scott’s board lost it’s rudder, but he knocked the vent plug out when he fell in about Kanaha and the board filled with water. It was floating with about an inch of freeboard. Randy and Scott had been all this time emptying the board out.
Shades of my first Maliko run with the Penetrator, when it got slammed in a closeout wave and buckled the bottom, incapacitating the steering mechanism and taking in water. Tough day for Scott, but he made it, and the next time will be a lot easier.
For me, I broke 2 hours, reaching the beach in 1:55 and the harbor mouth in 1:44. I stayed up on the board a lot more. My line down the coast still sucks–I did 10 miles even again. You can see on the map that I need to stay closer in at the beginning if I’m going to trim the distance to 9.5 miles. but it’s feeling a lot better.
My back is killing me, I think tomorrow is an off day. Maybe a nice sourthside run.
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Maliko run number four is in my official record book. Last guy to the beach again, but I improved my time over the last run (the Maui Canoe and Kayak club race) by 15 minutes. If I keep improving at this rate by the time I have Maliko 10 under my belt I’ll be whipping Dave Kalama’s butt and be first in line for the beer. Nothing like an active fantasy life to keep up the old motivation.
It was a pretty good run for me. I fell thirty times–literally, you can count them on the GPS trace. But that’s down substantially from the 200+ of the last run. I got some great swell runs, and even linked up a couple, a phenomenon that I previously considered some kind of inept description by my fellow downwindpeople. It just didn’t make sense to me that you could shoot down one swell with such vigor that you could catch and ride over the swell in front of you and catch it. Seemed like some kind of perpetual motion nonsense. But it turns out that you can indeed do that, and it feels GREAT! I actually managed a triple, which i celebrated by falling in gripped in some kind of wild surfing frenzy while trying to get over the top of number four. You can see the event clearly at mile four on the trace.
Trust me, it was a lot more exciting on the waves than on the trace. The run was pretty wild. The wind was gusting well over thirty knots, blowing the tops off the swells, and some of the doubled-up swells were over ten feet. You DON’T want to look behind you in these kind of conditions, it’s pretty damned intimidating to see an well-overhead swell running up behind you.
About halfway to the harbor, right off Spreklesville, the swells got a lot steeper, and I started having some problems with Gumby pearling. It didn’t pitch me off, but the nose of the board was well underwater, and that made the tail feel very loose and weird. I tried stepping back, but that made it to hard to catch swells, so I tried taking off at more of an angle, and that seemed to help. It worked best on lefts rather than rights, so my track headed gently towards the beach, as you can see on the map. Right until I started seeing the breakers at upper Kanaha, at which point I went RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT. I need to get over my nervousness about getting caught inside on these reefs. This run is supposed to be 9.5 miles and even though I though I took what i thought was a more aggressive line this time, I actually did 10.1 miles. With a five MPH pace that extra .6 miles cost me at least six minutes. Hey, I could have been under two hours!
It’s really fun going on these runs with the Maui crew. This Sunday that was Randy and Chan Strome, Larry Risley, and Jack Dyson. a great bunch of people and fun paddle with, even if they do all leave me in the dust.
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I turned the corner onto South Kihei Rd and saw whitecaps. Big, fluffy spraying-off-the-top whitecaps, and chunky swells even with the short fetch from Maalaea Bay. Perfect for a fast downwinder to the Four Seasons beach. Diane was dubious as usual, she considers anything beyond a gentle zephyr to be life-threatening, but I couldn’t wait to get the board off the car and into the water. Diane doesn’t mind being my shuttle driver, gives her and Sam some time for some nice south side walks.
I hopped on the board and paddled out a few hundred yards, and instantly regretted not starting at Haycraft Park on the other side of the bay. It makes for such a ripping run when the wind is slightly onshore, and this was, decidedly. I was going to have to work a bit to clear the reefs and that would slow me down. If I had started at Haycraft I’d be riding swells the whole way. It was Nukin’. You can pretty much see from the GPS speed trace that I wasn’t getting any good swell rides for about the first mile–I had to cut too tight an angle against them to get long rides, but once I turned the corner on the Shangri-La reef it was pure rock ‘n roll.
I was paddling Gumby, my Foote Maliko 12, since the Penetrator is back at the Ding King’s, drying out. I punched a small ding in it paddling on the North side the other day–no idea how, I didn’t feel a thing–and it was enough to cause a leak. So it’s getting pumped out to be ready for the next race. Gotta say, the Penetrator FLIES in flatwater. Now that I’ve learned how to get some muscle into my paddling, and i’m not doing balance checks all the time, it just rips.
Back to Gumby and the swells. What a friken rocket this thing is in a hefty swell. Glide after glide after glide. I was looking at my GPS and seeing seven to eight MPH most times. Never less than 5.5. what a hoot. Plus I’m learning to carve the swells to get more speed and better direction control. I’m also learning to get my paddle out further and pull hard in the beginning of the stroke. This pulls the nose up and gets the board into the swells quickly.
Once I’m in a swell I put my weight forward until the nose is just skimming the water, slide my back foot towards the rail I want to set, and give it steady pressure. As long as i keep the nose down the board just keeps accelerating and turns along the face of the swell. As you can see from the trace I got some pretty long rides this way, some of them in the 10MPH range, and one at the five mile point that hit about 11. Pretty fast for a goofy looking 12 foot board.
I don’t know how this software computes average speed, must be some kind of instantaneous value averaging. But I did 7.0 miles in 1:20:34 , that’s 5.83 mph average, not 5.2. What fun! And I’m sure I can go a lot faster in similar conditions next time. We’ll see.
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This is an oldie but a goodie, an article published back in 2008 but as relevant today as it was way back then, a whole year ago. I’m about to have two of my best friends come visit. they are both perfect guests, but they ARE guys, and that reminded to go searching for this. Enjoy
Once again this column is aimed mostly at guys. It’s not that I’m some kind of pig (though I am) it’s just that I’m male. The notion that I might understand a woman’s viewpoint about guest etiquette is laughable. I’m simply describing reactions and taboos from the position of dispassionate observer. Napoleon Chagnon observing the Yanomami in the dark heart of the amazon. Besides, the topic of this article is no help to women–they understand this stuff from birth. Though it may be useful to women to print a few copies, laminate them, and molly bolt them onto walls anywhere male guests might wander in search of a resting place, food, or relief of basic bodily imperatives.
So you’ve been invited to stay at someone’s beach house. It’s close to good breaks and therefore it’s a great place even if the floors tilt fifteen degrees. You’d like to come back someday. You’d like these people to still be speaking to you after three days of exposure to your habits. But you’re an untamed, natural creature, child of the ocean, at one with your true soul.
Well that ain’t gonna work. If you expose that dog to anyone with sensibilities, much less a woman, they will do anything short of burning the house to make sure you never cross the threshold again. This is a step-by-step plan for utterly fooling people into thinking you are remarkably civilized for a guy whose wardrobe consists of board shorts, rash guards, freebie T-shirts and a crusty hoodie.
You need to memorize this, so I’m going to keep it simple. No explanations–just rules. Besides, I don’t know why these are rules, they puzzle me too.
1. Case the bedroom: If the bed has a decorative cover, a sham (the ruffly thing that hides the wheels and dust bunnies) decorative pillows and/or stuffed animals you will not be sleeping there. DO NOT pull back the covers or disturb the pillows unless you take a photograph that enables you to put things back EXACTLY as they were. Either sleep on the floor beside the bed or try the front lawn.
2. Examine the bathroom: If it is a shared bathroom DO NOT undertake elimination after eating five Spam Musabe or even a single Chile Verde burrito. There is no spray, “aromatherapy experience” or amount of fresh air that will eliminate the lingering evidence of your gastronomic excesses. Lift the seat to pee, put it back down when you’re done. Seems like women could figure out if a toilet seat is up or not before they sit down, but apparently they can’t, and if you give them a surprise dip they will hate you until the sun is a black cinder.
3. The guest towels are not for you. They are easy to identify–they match, and they are brightly colored. You need to look for something in a drawer or cabinet that looks like a ratty beach towel, or perhaps something lifted from a holiday inn. Try not to get it too wet–it can double as a blanket when you’re sleeping on the floor.
4. The guest soap is also not for you. These are even easier to identify–they have probably never been wet and they are in some distinct shape–like fish or hearts. Again, search the cabinets and find a soap scrap with deep fissures, or perhaps an assortment of them that you can bind together with a little hot water.
5. If your buddy farts in front of his wife it’s not an invitation to a contest. Your best bet is a slightly pained and embarrassed look, like you’re not really sure what just transpired. Of course if she’s not around feel free to unleash your rendition of the 1812 overture.
6. Don’t offer to cook–a no win proposition. If it’s good you’re competing with the wife and upstaging your friend. If it’s bad you’re subjecting them to an unpleasant meal, if you make a mess you’re a pain, if you clean the whole kitchen you’re a neat freak who finds their housekeeping not up to your standards. When Suzy Homemaker makes you anything, including some strange casserole with green things and mushroom soup in it, act like you’ve just enjoyed the best thing since that crazy two weeks in Paris. Good idea to go for a walk afterwards (refer to rule five above).
7. Do the dishes. Takes twenty minutes, any fool can do it, and you’ll permanently be one of the good guys. You can screw up any of the rules above (except some parts of #2) and a bit of dish washing will put you back on an even standing–probationally.
8. Get lost. If you’re hanging out more than a single night you’ll be in the way. Unless your friends are a bit kinky they probably ain’t having sex if you’re hanging in the living room. A couple of days of that and even the kindest soul will wish you gone. Provide some space and make sure they know you’ll be gone for at least a couple of hours. Don’t come back early.
That’s about it. You can make life a lot simpler by staying with your bachelor buddies, but they usually don’t have much room, and their towels have hash marks.
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If you’re a surfer, Friday night in Paia is a challenge. Staying up late isn’t easy when you routinely get up at 5:00 AM to do the dawn patrol at your favorite break.
But the Friday night surf movie at Lightning Bolt surf shop doesn’t start until 8:00PM. There might be a party to go to first. Or if you’re staying at the Paia Inn (or invited, as many people were last Friday) there’s jazz music and a BYOB get together in the courtyard. Last Friday night there were also two really good street musician bands in full swing–three young and very talented kids doing some haunting original modern rock, and across the street, an incredibly good five piece combo with a very hot violin payer and excellent guitarist.
Typical Paia Party–the women are decked out, and the guys…not so much
The bar at Jacques was jammed with locals and there was some kind of celebration going on in the outdoor dining area. Diane and I opted for a quiet dinner at Moana Cafe. We both ordered Filet Mignon medallions and a good Cabernet. The entrees tool a little longer than we expected, so we were getting a little nervous as 7:30 approached, since we planned to stop at the Paia Inn before going to the movie at Lightning Bolt. When our filets came, we tasted them and I said “let’s not worry about being late, I want to enjoy this”. Superb.
Moana Cafe–always great food
By the time we finished and walked back to the Paia Inn it was nearly 8:00PM, but we could see that Frank was running a little late on the movie. So we dropped off some ginger/papaya chocolate bark Diane had made, and crossed the parking lot to the Inn. There were only a few people there, and we realized the drinks were BYOB, so I went to the Wine Corner (just a block away) and got a nice bottle of Rose. We had hardly settled in and had just started chatting with some folks, when I say the flicker of the movie at lightning bolt. The movie was “Busting Down The Door” which I had never seen, so I was anxious to see it all. We got to our seats just as the opening title rolled. Excellent film, I highly recommend it.
Lightning Bolt surf shop
After the movie we talked with some friends at Lightning Bolt, then headed back over to the Inn, where the party was in full swing. I shot a few pictures and was enjoying the crowd, but I could tell Diane was about finished. I was feeling a little put out at having to leave, but when we got to the car, Diane drove (since I had had quite a bit more wine than she) and I immediately conked out. I woke up when we pulled into the driveway. We both shambled to bed.
the Paia Inn Party starts to roll
Nice band, but with so many people talking they were a little hard to hear
the party filled the courtyard and spilled into the lobby
Nice hat. I need one of those, though my head is big and square–probably better not
The band was relaxed and comfortale with the crowd
Diane’s patented “hat up buckwheat, we’re outa here” look
I woke up at 5:00AM as usual, feeling a bit fragile. I looked out the window at the wind, driving rain and small swell, and decided to bake scones.
You need a good breakfast before making any foolish decisions about surfing.
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I promised long ago that I’d do a tour of the Ding King’s, one of the most perfect surfer joints I’ve ever seen. Here it is. If you think you know of a better one, send me photos and a few words and I’ll post it.
The folks who did Blue Crush missed a great location: The Ding King’s joint. This place REEKS of surfing soul and creativity. I always grin as I turn in the driveway. And it’s REAL, there’s a lot of talent in this crusty looking place.
As always, you can click on the pictures for a larger version.
The funmobile looks right at home in front of Ding King’s
The Ding King does fibreglass repair of all kinds–fast and good but not cheap (you were expecting all three?). They also design and build very elegant stuff like the hollow standup board I bought from them, and gorgeous Hawaiian racing canoes. Mark’s knowledge and design approach turns out highly functional products with well known performance. For example, one of the new standup/longboard sailboards being produced by Starboard is based on Mark’s plug (Mark Rappahorst owns the place) .
I asked Mark once why they had built the giant “Edith Ann” chairs out front. He said “Ahh… I don’t know, we get a goofy idea, we just got to do it”
These chairs and table look normal size, but they’re about twice normal height. When you see the Ding King guys eating lunch out here they look like a bunch of little kids. That fits.
The surfboard chair with windsurfer boom rockers is comfortable, and so is the surfboard bench. Planters everywhere from everything: Toilets, canoes, amas, even an actual flowerpot
Mark, and a better view of the stick wave. Mark is usually kind of grey colored from fiberglass dust
Inside–it’s hard to know what to look at first. A lot going on in this place
Canoe molds and the top mold for the excellent Ku Nalu hollow standup board.
I love mine–it paddles great and sails even better. every time I see one without a mast track I think “you knucklehead!” You see these boards all over the place in Maui, which is amazing when you consider they’re made one at a time in this single mold. I waited six months for mine. Worth it.
Mark’s canoes are highly regarded–light and strong.
He also fixes a lot of the less robust ones from asia. Every time I go in the place I’m tempted to get a canoe–they’re beautiful. But I’m running out of room in the garage.
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On August 9, 2008, a small group of stand-up paddle surfers will attempt a grueling marathon paddle across Cape Cod Bay from Plymouth to Provincetown to raise awareness and money to help stop the ever growing problem of pollution in our oceans and along our shores.
All proceeds from the event will benefit the Ocean Conservancy, a non-profit dedicated to promoting healthy and diverse ocean ecosystems. Part of the proceeds of this event will go towards the Ocean Conservancy’s International Coastal Clean Up on September 20, 2008.
The beauty, purity and the challenge of paddle surfing make it a great platform to raise awareness about the extremely serious issue of ocean pollution. Our goal is to make this an annual event that will serve as an on-going fundraiser for, and reminder of, our need to be responsible stewards of the ocean.
I had to think about whether I wanted to tell my own story or not. One it’s personal and two, this paddle isn’t about me. But I do want to use this opportunity to not only raise some money for a good cause but also maybe encourage a few folks to join me on the water. Especially if they are dealing with issues similar to my own.
When I first thought of the challenge last fall I didn’t think it was something I would be participating in….just organizing was my original thought. You see, five years ago I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, a vestibular schwannoma, growing on the vestibular nerve. Since then I’ve undergone radio-surgery to kill the tumor. The ongoing side effects of the tumor and radio-surgery caused severe headaches, vertigo, and dizziness, also deafness and tinnitus on my left side. The most disabling issue was loss of balance and vertigo, being unable to trust my body to do things, especially driving, made life planning difficult at best. I wasn’t sure where it would end, what it would mean to my career. Even the simple things like keeping up with the yardwork had become impossible.
4 years of treatments and prescriptions did little to help. Nothing the doctors did helped with the balance/vertigo problems. Then my brother Bill gave me his 12-6 Starboard Cruiser standup paddleboard when he thought it might be good therapy. It has proved to be one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.. Ten short months ago I was approaching 50, an overweight, out of shape balance challenged guy on a downward spiral. 5 months later on my 50th birthday, January 24th, I was surfing at Nauset Beach on Cape Cod.
I had already seen a dramatic change by then. I had retrained my system to balance visually. Pushing my need for balance to the extreme on a standup board makes the normal possible. I’ve been driving my car…..freedom. I went from barely being able to stand on a board to going out in 10′ waves in a nor’easter in mid May. Wild wind, heavy chop, and 8-10′ waves and I’m not only standup paddling out into it but catching a few waves as well. Talk about feeling alive.
Here I am 10 months later, 50 lbs lighter, even with all the added muscle, able to live a more normal life all because of a sport that is incredibly fun to do. I hope many of you that read this might be encouraged to give it a try, especially those that might be facing issues like mine. If I can do it almost anyone can. The added benefit, I’m in better shape now than I was at 30.
I’m not saying that this negates the need for medical care. I’ve just been painfully reminded of that. Unfortunately after 4 years of no growth I’ve just found out my little friend may be growing again. You can’t argue the obvious benefits however. The not so obvious may be just as important. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so at peace as while I’m out paddling. I return from every session refreshed in spirit. One thing that standup definitely gives me is a much better outlook on rehab if I need treatment again this time. My 1st question is going to be how long before I can get back on the water?
For additional info and to donate please check our website http://www.capecodbaychallenge.org . You can also download a copy of our poster there.
See you on the water.
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Glassy knee highs
How often do you get to be the first at anything?
I don’t believe anyone has ever surfed the shoal 2 miles off of Plymouth beach. Why would you? Only a few have bothered to surf the beach itself and the shoal is a 3 mile paddle from the parking lot. A long way for a prone surfer but a nice cruise with a paddle. I know some kayaker’s have been out there but no surf boards that I’ve heard. That was part of the reason I was having so much fun riding and connecting section after section on this beautiful glassy day small though it was. Just the thought that maybe, just maybe, I could be the first was pretty interesting.
Me the newb! [Read more]
In the heat of the shortboard revolution, the summer of 1972, young surf phenomenon Gerry Lopez and Jack Shipley realized the old established shops were buried under inventories of boards that were obsolete. They decided to open their own surfboard shop dedicated to the leading edge of surfing–and Lightning Bolt was born. Gerry Lopez and Rory Russell ruled pipeline on Lightning Bolt surfboards, and the striking logo soon appeared, shredding waves in magazines everywhere.
Also in the summer of ‘72 Jack’s friend Nino Baltar came to Maui and opened Lightning Bolt Maui in the same building the shop is in today. In 1974 Gerry Lopez came to Maui and took over, shaping the boards and running the shop. Lightning Bolt became the hangout for surfers throughout Maui–it was Maui’s only surf shop and naturally it’s now the oldest shop on Maui.
The walls are covered in history. If you’re a surfer and you visit Maui, you’ll enjoy a visit if only just to look at the collection of vintage surfboards. Today they maintain the tradition of shaping boards at the forefront of surf evolution, including Standup Paddle Boards. They sell production, custom and semi custom boards from a variety of shapers including Tom Parrish, Bill Foote, Bill Hamilton, Tom Nellis, Danny Nichols, Steve Walden, Ed Angulo, Lloyd Ishimine, Joey Goette and John Nack.
Besides boards, accessories, surf gear, stickies, and ancillary stuff the shop also offers rental equipment.
Man, Kanaha is looking really shabby. I’ve got an idea about what to do with all the plastic bags we get from the grocery store. I’m going to take one to Kanaha with me every morning I go there and spend ten minutes picking up trash.
Yeah, I don’t like picking up other people’s crap, especially the dirty diapers I find tossed in the parking lot. I have no idea WTF people are thinking, but the slobs will always be with us (unless we put a bounty on them) and the park is ours.
I’m not going to try to talk anyone else into doing this–other than to mention it here. I hate it when people do that to me. I’m just going to do it. So if you see me rummaging in the garbage cans and picking up trash, don’t offer me some spare change. The recession hasn’t nailed me yet. I just hate looking at one of the most beautiful parks in the world after the slobs get done with it.
Two Maui surf shops: Hawaiian Island Surf and Sports and HiTech Maui bought almost all the Showcase boards and paddles and put them in their rental fleet. Both stores now have an extensive rental fleet of new boards–it’s a unique opportunity (if you’re on Maui) to try the latest Sup boards and paddles.
Rentals are a fine way to get started in this great sport, and they are equally valuable when a shop has a good selection for determining the next board you want to buy as your skill progress. If you know of a good selection of rental boards in your area, please leave a comment. We’ll be building a directory of SUP shops using this article as a base. For that matter, let us know about any good Sup shop in your area.
I wonder how distributors are going to expand Sup sales into the inland waters? People can’t try the sport if they can’t get the boards. Stand up paddling certainly isn’t limited to the coasts and the islands, but growth might be slowed just because people need to see others doing it to become interested.
Why would you go to a restaurant where Mai Tais are fifteen bucks.
Because it’s worth it.
Mama’s is a gorgeous place. Actually it’s way past gorgeous. There’s an unobstructed view across the empty beach (it’s not private, but you have to come through the Mama’s entrance to get to it) to crashing waves. There’s the glorious entry, the unique architecture–even the valet parking stand is amazing, the wonderful bar. I halfway expect to meet Humphrey Bogart there someday (and by the way, how much of a man do you have to be to make the name Humphrey represent unadulterated toughness).
The food is excellent, the prices are scary. Just realize you’re going to drop a hundred bucks per person and get over it. Their wines are not stratospherically priced, though maybe I just feel that way after experiencing truly absurd wine prices in Aspen ($300 for Newton unfiltered Merlot at the Montagne restaurant in the Little Nell Hotel–a $40 bottle at any wine store). At any rate, wine prices at Mamas are rational if not a bargain.
Their Ahi Poke is excellent, as is the Lobster soup. Salads and soups are fabulous. They always bring you an amuse bouche (yeah, yeah I know, there’s supposed to be some accent marks in there someplace), usually a bisque, and it’s always excellent and not enough (that’s the idea, eh?). The bread plate is irresistable, slightly sweet fresh baked bread loaves. All the fish entree’s are extremely fresh, caught that morning. They always give the name of the local fisherman that caught the fish. Local fishermen tell me that if their name gets on the menu that means they had a very good day, because Mama’s needs a lot of fish.
Here’s some pictures. If you don’t realize that this is a must go place, at least once per trip to Maui, then I just can’t help you.
I have a friend in Portland who’s a fairly wealthy guy (owns a big car dealership) who has eaten in some of the finest restaurants in the world. He’s a hard guy to please and very outspoken when he doesn’t like something. When he’s in Maui he eats at Mama’s almost every day.
Enough talk, here’s some pictures. In looking at these I felt the place came off looking a little Disney. It’s not.
This series is the valet stand. The valet stand!! Where they keep your car keys! Sure, it’s the first thing you see, but how many restaurants figure out that such a prosaic thing can make a big impression. These folks aren’t assuming you’re going to figure out this place is special–they let you know right away. And they don’t insult your intelligence and taste with a grass hut or something hokey. This is one interesting structure.
The walkway has a gecko pattern to the concrete that looks like something from an Escher painting.
Mama’s beach is beautiful, though the close reef makes entry into the water tricky. It’s a famous surf break, though the long paddle means you’re more likely to see windsurfers in the wave.
I should be more specific I suppose and make it clear that I’m talking about the north shore. Nothing wrong with the south side, I’m just rarely there for breakfast and it’s mostly tourist places. Except the Keihei Cafe, which serves an excellent breakfast and absolute stone killer coffee cake.
So you crawled out of bed early and you’re rolling through Paia to join the dawn patrol. But your stomach is growling and you won’t be worth squat without some coffee. You’re in luck if it’s after 5:30 AM, because Anthony’s Coffee is open (probably) and they can fix you up. Eddie and Kerry (not sure I spelled that right) run a great place–super friendly, full of interesting people, and knee deep in local color. Plus they have the best coffee I’ve ever had–Eddie roasts it himself. The roaster used to be right in the store, but Eddie moved it to a separate building when the place got too crowded. Diane and I buy dozens of bags of Anthony’s coffee every year, both for ourselves and to give to deserving friends.
And one look in the doorway of Anthony’s is all you need to understand–the place has so much soul they haven’t even unpacked most of it. Anthony’s also has local pastries, great bagels, and serves a full breakfast. I’m not wild about their eggs benedict–the hollandaise is some kind of a mix. But they’ve got lots of other choices and it’s all pretty good. Don’t get hashbrowns unless you like those little pre-formed bottom-feeding patty thingies. But the country fries are just fine.
Good ice cream too. Kerry (Ed’s wife) cooks amazing cakes, but she doesn’t do it as often as she used to. It’s just as well, I always felt really weird eating pineapple bundt cake for breakfast. But I never wanted to take a chance that it would be gone when I got done surfing.
If it’s a little later, and you’re hungrier, then there’s Moana Cafe.
I hear that Moana is a great place to have dinner. they have music there a lot, and it usually looks interesting. But I’ve never been there for dinner, and rarely for lunch (I’m usually on a board of some kind during lunch). For me Moana is breakfast. And what a breakfast.
The Funmobile in it’s accustomed place.
First of all there’s the eggs benedict. It’s a rare restaurant that makes their own hollandaise–usually it’s a mix. Not only does Moana make theirs from scratch, but it’s perfection. Light, slightly lemony, with the delicate flavors that the bogus mixes so totally lack. Perfect poached eggs–not disappointingly hard, or disgustingly runny. Perfect. Spicy blackened Mahi, or other choices that I’m sure are excellent. I wouldn’t know–I can’t pass up the mahi. Wonderful home fries–crisp on the outside, flaky on the inside. great coffee, excellent service. What more could you ask for.
The deadly pastry case–super croissants
Well, actually there is more. Their waffles are excellent, clearly made from scratch, you just can’t get that crispness any other way that I’ve ever found. Diane gets the waffles frequently. And Moana is a bakery–their croissants are excellent.
This is a local hangout. Did I mention the waitresses are all gorgeous?
They also have a really great lamb wrap thats great for lunch. I’ll just have to try the place for dinner sometime soon, but for me Moana means breakfast.
Grab a window seat if you can, but don’t take mine. Hey, that guy’s sitting in my seat!
