Every once in awhile, on a cool night with tradewinds blowing, I dream of being on a huge wave and riding it in.

As a shapely teenager, I’d visit cousins in Ewa Beach. We’d take many walks along the beach. One day, a handsome young surfer invited me to go for a ride on his surfboard. After some hesitation, I accepted. We paddled out together on a huge board and he patiently explained my role. When he was ready, he would tell me to paddle hard … using even strokes. He taught me how to stiffen my arms on the board as we approached a wave.

Together, we turned the board around and faced it inward.   I waited anxiously. All of a sudden, he said, “Now! ... Paddle! ... Paddle hard!” I was so excited!  My hands dug deep into the green water, scooping, even strokes … all of a sudden … Up!  Up!  Up we went.  Oh my God!  I didn’t dare look back but as we went forward I felt a huge rush of excitement. Golly, gee!
Then, and only then, as our board moved forward did I truly understand why surfers spent all those hours out there ... the ride … thrilling beyond belief.

As a struggling young teacher, I lived in Ewa Beach with my brother Kyle and then, young husband, Bill. They’d invite me to go along with them to body surf after pauhana.  No kids yet. In those days, their bodyboards were made of plywood.  The corners were sanded smooth and the board was varnished. Very cheap to make. Mine was a small inflatable canvas raft with cord all around the edge. It was called “Surf Rider” or something. When I caught a wave, I rode it all the way in. The plywood riders only came halfway and they really had to paddle hard to catch the wave. I pretty much just waited and aimed.

Now, grandson Harley has taken up the sport. He felt that the fiberglass board he purchased a few years ago wasn’t good enough. He saved his money (from Uncle Kyle) and picked an evening for us to go down to the mall, have dinner, and make his purchase. I looked at the selection of colorful fiberglass boogie or bodyboards … mind you, with graphite center. He makes sure that the top of the board hits him at the waist and he settles on ELEMENOHPEE. The front is not pointy …not flat.  A wrist leash is also needed.

Then, early Sunday morning, we have breakfast and quickly head down to the beach to launch that baby. I pack up a collapsible chair, a newspaper, a bottle of water, and binoculars. He has a long-sleeved, slim-fitting rashguard, short fins, socks, and IT. I sit under a coconut palm, watching him paddle out and joining others in the blue water of Richardson’s.

The hours pass with him out there. I can’t seem to break away from my binoculars. I see his head bobbing and I see him skimming the surface and paddling back against the walls of water. I remember the waiting, the choice of going or letting the wave go…just like life. I remember … the RIDE.

Aloha and malama kou kino. 

Anake Rhoda

Since this article was first written, he’s moved up to a BALLISTIC board with POD fins.  (The board is the one with the Hawaiian flag underneath). It’s thicker…heavier.    I can spot his board a mile away! He’s riding in perched … on his knees. Yikes!!!