Surfing in Mala'ekahana

My eyes slowly opened as the rooster’s dutiful shrill reverberated outside my hut. In rural Hawaii, you become accustomed to rising at the sound of the cock’s proverbial music, and in fact, you come to relish it. At four in the morning, climbing out of our tents and huts, we breathed in the calm Hawaiian air and reveled in its serenity.

The unspoiled beaches of the East coast of Oahu present a different side of Hawaii, one that is rustic and unblemished with the idiosyncrasies of Western civilization. Our campsite, Mala’ekahana, was not a typical tourist mecca - it was a hideaway, where locals yearning to escape the hustle and bustle of the city could reconnect with nature. What better way to do this than sleeping on the beach in simple huts, listening to the soothing waves of the ocean, and rising at daybreak to witness an exquisite sunrise just steps away.

As the day begins to unfold, the ocean slowly awakens from its slumber and begins to collect its strength, forming the magnificent waves that bring Hawaii its fame. Locals begin to arrive in truckloads, all flocking towards the beach with different shapes and sizes of surfboards, though united by a common purpose - reaping a full day's worth of the thrills and enjoyment that only surfing can provide.

As a fledgling surfer I spent many toiling hours out in the sun, saturated with salty water, my hands and feet wrinkling from moisture, my neck sore from tension. I watched in awe as the native Hawaiians danced effortlessly with the waves, even surfing upside down, their heads balanced on their surfboards, while I clutched my board like a shipwrecked sailor hoping for rescue. Playful Green sea turtles skimmed past me, bobbing their heads above the surface of the water as if to encourage me.

When the right wave came up behind me, I knew instantly that it felt different than the others; the depth of its energy infused my mind and surged through my body. I quickly began to paddle, and as the wave started to curl I got into position. The surfboard and I, and the wave, we all became one in that moment, a single entity hurling towards the shore. The ocean and I had come to an accord; I was determined worthy of experiencing its unbridled power and beauty.

Later that day, I sat on the beach and watched the clouds gather which perpetually enshroud the Hawaiian mountains at dusk, feeding their lush greenery with an abundance of rain. A young Hawaiian couple sat near me, enjoying the sunset as their one-year-old child played in the water. As I watched the little boy, playfully frolicking in the waves, I perceived the extent of the spiritual bond native Hawaiians share with the ocean. Nature is, in essence, a being, and to live harmoniously with her takes a lifetime of appreciation and understanding. Experiencing but a glimpse of her splendour that day was an honour unlike any other.