Thursday 2-24-05

unreal. Mother nature went off. It was the sunset windsurfing session at Kanaha. I was on my 12.6 longboard with the sail and the wind got so light that it was only two of us windsurfers, 3 kitesurfers and 3 surfers. Around 5.30 the wind picked up again. Nice and steady, didn't bother the waves at all. Even the waves picked up. Haleakala went thru a series of colors that it's quite hard to describe. First it was super-green (sounds like something to clean the bathroom, I know..) creating a big contrast with the darkness of the ocean, that was already in the shade of the West Maui Mountain and its hat of clouds. Then it turned into a red that reminded me of Ayers Rock in Australia. Finally it became deep purple (sounds like a rock band, I know..). I even saw a breach 500 yards outside and went to check that out. It was three of them. Two adults and one little one (still bigger than me, though..). I didn't get closer than 50 yards, because I thought that the adults would be aggressively protective, but I was still close enough to be able to admire the beauty of a whale tail arch and submerge...
Wave after wave we got all stoked out there! Glenn, the other windsurfer, in a rare moment of close sailing action, shouted: "What is this?"
I don't know, my friend, but I'm happy to be here, right now! Actually I'm happy that you are here too, because it's nice to share this emotions with somebody else. Windsurfers, kitesurfer and surfers enjoying nature to its maximum (in my humble opinion) expression of beauty and harmony. And it felt like we were part of that harmony. I must have sailed quite well, I suppose...
We got out of the water at 7.05, in complete darkness. An idea arose in my mind. "Glenn, should we wait for the full moon to come out and go sailing again? It's still pretty windy!".
The answer wasn't a bit disappointing. "Yeah, let's do that!"
I knew the moon was supposed to rise around 8. One of those things that for some reason I know...
So we chatted for a while but when the moon came out, the wind had unfortunately dropped. But, the reason because my wonderful board is a wonderful board is that it's eclectic! I got rid of the sail, took my paddle and paddled alone to the reef. "Just a stand-up paddle to the reef in the moonlight. Nothing more." ... "Ok, maybe I'll catch a wave or two..."
The moon was covered by clouds and I wasn't sure where the channel was. Just for the non surfers: not knowing where the channel is is not a good thing.
When I thought I was at the reef, the moon come out of the clouds and it was like somebody turned on the light. Just in time to see a wave of such dimensions that an interesting reaction happened to my body: my ass hole suddenly wanted to show me how tight it can get. I had just the time to think:"Ops, I must have missed the channel..." and then I jumped in the water trying to dive as much as I could without hitting the reef (not an easy task in Kanaha). Roarrr... I must confess that I love the sound of a wave when it breaks over me. I got out the water, pulled my leash and quickly got back on the board with the paddle under my belly. Even though I am not scared of sharks during the day, I couldn't stop a stupid (or healthy) sense of discomfort being in the water at night (in a spot close to the Kahului harbor, by the way). So, I started paddling to try to catch the next wave. I didn't even look back to see if there was another wave. I know those big ones don't travel alone... I didn't even look back to check if I was in the right spot. I was gonna get worked anyway...
Lucky as I am, I was in the right spot. I caught that wave easily and surfed it for a while. Then it closed out and I was still riding the white water. The light of the fool moon makes the white water kind of phosphorescent and I was surrounded by it. I raised the paddle in the air and screamed with joy. Then, I paddled in. That was enough. That was one damn good moment. That was one damn good session.