I grew up in sunny Southern California; my summers were spent swimming in, and frolicking along, the shores of the infamous Newport Beach. On occasion, my male cousins and uncles would let me body surf with them. But, I wasn’t very good at it, and on one occasion nearly drowned. As you can imagine, if I couldn’t body surf there was no way they were going to let me near a surfboard to attempt what the guys (and girls) were mastering out on the horizon. Besides, they said that “girls don’t do that.” So, for years, I would sit on the shore and watch the phenomenon known as “surfing”, wondering what it was all about.
When I was 13-years-old, I came across the semi-cult flick ‘North Shore’ (funny, yet, completely true). After watching it at least a million times, I decided that one day, I would go to this mystical place known as Hawai’i. Not for the same reasons as Rick Kane of course ( “to surf the season”), but because I didn’t quite believe that a place with crystal clear water actually existed. It took me eight years, but I finally made it to O’ahu.
From 1996-1998, I visited O’ahu often. I had made several local friends, was experiencing the island as a local, and loving every second of it...especially the beaches. During this time, I learned a few things: pidgeon (grind in Hawai'i and grind on the mainland mean two completely different things!), Haole was not a friendly word, and to stay out of Waianae. unless accompanied by a local. The one thing I never learned was to surf. At some point in 1998, I decided to trade in my current L.A. lifestyle for one in paradise. In 1999, I packed my bags, kissed my parents and my boyfriend goodbye, and moved to Honolulu.
Shortly, after I arrived on the island, a few friends and I went to the North Shore for no particular reason. We sat along the beach and I saw something peculiar to me. A girl was coming out of the water, holding a surfboard. I remember being told by my cousins that “girls don’t do that”. It was at that moment that I decided that this girl would at least try it. I turned to my friends and asked which of them would teach me to surf and to my disappointment only one of them knew how. He wasn’t real psyched to lose a day out in the water to teach the latest California import. They recommended that I ask Ka’imi. He surfed, he was patient enough to teach, and he was HOT! I was all over it.
My first attempt at surfing was in Waikiki. It was crowded, I struggled with paddling, and I refused to go anywhere near the lineup for fear of being ran over. My confidence level had diminished as I continued to struggle throughout the session. I decided to give up after one day. A few months later, my boyfriend, Ka’imi (yeah, go figure), asked if I wanted to try surfing again. I figured I would give it another shot. With my confidence hardly in tact, we headed over to Tongs. Luckily, there was hardly anyone out in the water. I still struggled with paddling, but Ka’imi was patient. I finally made it out to where he was, but I was completely exhausted. We waited quietly for the next set. I must have zoned out for a second because I was startled to hear Ka’imi yell, “Turn around!” With his help, I positioned myself toward the shore. Paddle. Paddle. Paddle. I felt the push of the wave and managed, somehow, to stand up. And then, EUPHORIA! I must have been having an out-of-body experience because I could have sworn I was floating. I had never felt anything like that moment in my life. Little did I know that I would never feel it again. My next few attempts to surf were disastrous.
I left Oahu in 2002, never learning to successfully surf; never finding that wondrous feeling again. Back in California, I would visited the beaches, but I refused to go anywhere near the black water. Paradise had ruined me (in a good way). The fear of a polluted ocean didn’t fuel my desire to learn to surf.
I decided to return to Oahu in 2007. I called my college friend Wisa and announced that, “I wanted to surf.” Little did she know what she was getting herself into. We started out at some place in Waikiki near my hotel. Once again, I struggled to paddle out. I did my best to hop on a few waves, but none of them gave me that feeling I experienced at Tongs. I easily grew exhausted, but I managed to paddle back out to where Wisa was. As we sat facing the horizon, she nodded her head to the right and asked, “ You want to go over there?” Over there, also known as, Pops, was way out of my league. The waves seemed monstrous. I didn’t want to end up like the chick from Blue Crush…sucked down and dragged across reef. I’m pretty sure I said, “No” but before I knew it she had her toes on the nose of my board dragging me out towards FEAR! Needless to say it was another disastrous session. I managed to make my way back to shore, or as I used to call it..SAFETY! I had definitely called it quits after that day.
Flash forward to 2009. Wisa calls. She’s getting married to Kevin Miller. A firefighter and co-owner of Hawaiian Fire…a surf school. I had given up on surfing so that was just information to me. It’s September in Sonoma. I see my favorite local girls at the wedding and they encourage me to come back to the island for a visit. We decide January would be perfect. I could attend Wisa’s baby shower. By night’s end, I had accidentally caught the bouquet, along with Kevin’s brother Ryan catching the garter. You’re probably thinking, what’s up with the random facts, but that wedding put me in touch with the guy who be partly responsible for teaching me to surf. It’s December. I Facebook Ryan to tell him that I’m arriving in Honolulu in January. I would need a surf lesson. I made it pretty clear of the train wreck I am wh en it comes to surfing and advised him to talk to Wisa for a testimonial.
On January 9, 2010, after two days of procrastinating, I finally "womaned up" and took my Hawaiian Fire surf lesson. Ryan, his other brother, Brad, and I climbed into the truck and headed for Ewa Beach. The closer we got, the more nervous I got. This wasn’t a private lesson. There would be others there…learning, watching, perhaps, judgi ng. By the time we made it to the beach, I was exhausted from remembering all of my recent failures. Not once did that ride at Tongs provide me with any solace. 
The other students arrived and we huddled under a tent. I was pleasantly surprised to see that there where plenty of instructors to manage this decent sized group. I wasn’t going to be alone out there, left to fend for myself amongst the masses.We were told to grab gear and to return to the tent to go over safety. I grabbed my gear and sat quietly towards the back of the tent. Kazu introduced himself and began to safety portion of the lesson. Saftey lectures are generally a bore, but Kazu had us giggling in no time. He even poked fun at the tourist from Arizona by asking them if the movie North Shore provoked their visit to the island. By the end of the safety talk, It was very clear about what the day would entail and what I needed to do to survive the lesson.
Next up, was Ryan to teach us proper technique. “Paddling…” was all I heard as my chest tightened. I wanted to run, feign sickness, or maybe, I was actually going to be sick. I listened and watched as Ryan gave the live tutorial. Suddenly, a light went off. All of these years, I was doing it WRONG! You mean to tell me that lying completely flat on your board and swinging my arms through the water was NOT paddling. I listened more intently.
“Standing up on your board…” What? You can lift yourself into position. Popping up ISN'T necessary. I could actually save some energy by gently rising into standing position.
“Confidence…” I sank down in my chair. I was going to have to work on that one alone, but it seemed like less of an obstacle since I now understood paddling and standing up.
“Have fun…” This was a new concept. I had tried to surf several times but was so overwhelmed by concentration that I can’t say that I ever just had fun.
“Alright, guys…let’s practice!”
We were led to a group of boards lined up along the beach. They were different than the boards I had previously used. They were long and soft with black grips in the center. Kazu explained that these boards were designed specifically for learning to surf. We practiced for several minutes. Paddle. Paddle. Paddle. Stand up. And then it was time…
I opted to be the last one in the water. I wanted to see where everyone else was heading so I could steer clear of them. But, that wasn’t going to happen. Before I knew it, Ryan had me amongst the rest of the group, enthusiastically asking if I was “ready for a wave”. In my mind I clearly heard several shouts resembling the words, ‘NO, NO NO!’, but for some reason “Yep!” escaped from my mouth. “Okay, here you go…”
I can’t remember if I was successful on that first wave, but I do remember hearing shouts of “Yeaahhhhh!” as I moved further towards the shore. When it was time to go back out, I remembered the correct way to paddle and headed towards the instructors without any exhaustion. I was facing Ryan again and with the same enthusiasm he asked, “Ready for another one?” I must have gone crazy, or perhaps the enthusiasm was contagious, because I readily agreed. And then I heard it again, “Yeaaahhhh!” I stood up this time and I know I felt like shouting those words but the voices sounded more like the texture of a man’s voice. As I paddled back out, I heard it again. It was a man’s voice. It was several men’s voices. It was the surf instructors. They were no longer just our instructors, they had become our cheerleaders. I took a few minutes to observe my surroundings. As each student took off on a wave, there was a cheer of encouragement that followed. I was suddenly very excited. I wanted to be cheered for. I had to keep trying. I made it back out and gave it another few tries. Some were successful, while some were not. But it didn’t matter because I was having a blast.
The next few waves I caught were with the help of Zack. We chatted a bit between rides and he encouraged me to try catching a few waves on my own. How could I say no with the mounting enthusiasm and encouragement coming from each instructor that I encountered. He cued me when it was time to paddle and I was off. I stood up with a bit more ease and to my surprise, gliding to the left of me was Ryan and another student. I’m not sure how it happened, but it was a pretty amazing moment.
By the end of the session, the group from Arizona was charging waves on their own. Everyone was in the highest of spirits. We were cheering each other along, right along with the instructors. I had completely worn myself out, not from paddling, but because I was having more fun trying to surf than I had EVER had. I smiled when I thought I did well and laughed when I just couldn’t make it work. Most importantly, I didn't quit.
Unlike Rick Kane, two hours of surfing didn’t prepare me to compete in the Pipeline Classic. However, I did gain the skills I needed to improve: proper technique, confidence, and the ability to have fun while doing it! Mahalo to the Hawaiian Fire surf instructors, especially Ryan and Zack, my own personal “Chandlers”. Can’t wait to get back out there and try it again!!!
