Haleiwa
Tim, his best friend, and I moved into Tim's parents house on the base just outside of Wahiawa. Tim's dad was the Captain so we had a lot of freedom. We even had pass stickers on our cars that had to be saluted. I know the gate-keepers hated saluting, after all, we were only a bunch of young haole pot heads. But they had to do it, and they did. Both Tim's younger brother and younger sister smoked weed, so the five of us thought it would be a good idea to grow plants down in a crag by their house...on the base. When they were five feet tall we got busted.
The whole incident was dealt with silently. The consequence was, Tim's dad had to retire early. The Captain moved his family back to Virginia, while Tim, his best fiend, and I moved to the North Shore. I always felt bad that I had a part in all that mess.
We moved into a house at Sharks Cove and I got a job as a cocktail waitress at Chuck's Steak House in Mililani. It was quite a drive at 3 in the morning but the money was good. It didn't take me long to discover that the restaurant was a cocaine warehouse and distribution center. At times the pretty white powder was my tip, henceforth, my habit was growing like a third red-eye.
Working evenings meant I could surf all day. I quickly fell in love with all the North Shore point breaks. Sunset being my favorite, Chun's a close second. Both wonderful rights that were an easy ride when big. One thing that got my attention and respect real fast was the long paddle outs. I set my sights on getting into shape so I could do them efficiently. I had to sell my bike in California so I was running and swimming to stay in shape. I was also doing quite a few push-ups to build my arms. Using flippers kept my legs in shape. In spite of all the drugs my body was like a machine.
Thankfully I rarely had a problem in the line-up with the locals in spite of me being a haole kneeboarder. I was a blond chick doing a form of surfing that was quickly on the outs but, all those years of surfing So. Cal, with its crowd, taught me well the rules of pecking order. My surfing strategy is to quickly paddle through the crowd and set myself up as close to the peak as I can get. Then I wait patently for the wave I want. Huntington Beach taught me how to hoot a competitor off if they're going to hop me, but, its always my job to be close enough to the peak so a) there is no one closer and I have the right-of-way, or b) anyone closer will get sucked over the falls.
Once in position I wait for a good set, then I focus on the third wave. The reason I pick the third wave is because usually the first two remove the eager-beavers from the crowd. I have also found that the third wave can be the biggest and/or cleanest. I don't know if the big/clean theory is scientifically sound, but the pattern works for me.
Once I catch a wave I always feel eyes on me. If I blow the wave, it'll be a cold day in hell before I get another one.
Tim and I surfed all around the island of Oahu. We still had the military stickers on our cars so we could get onto any base to surf. It was great! He was a contractor and would usually leave the house early to go to work.
"I'm building this big project and will be gone all day tomorrow." He said to me the day before our anniversary.
"No problem. I work anyway. We'll do something this weekend." I replied. I was told the job was near the Crouching Lion. I never heard the full story of what the job was and I never really asked. I took a lot for granted.
The next morning Tim and his best friend got up early and the two left the house. About an hour later I went looking for waves. I pulled up to Velzyland and saw Tim's car. Low-and-behold there they were, surfing. I waxed his windows and weaved my leash around his front suspension and through the passenger's side wheel. I velcroed the ankle strap to the shock.
When he got home I discovered that he had no job (shocker) but had been selling drugs. I figured there was something like that going on, after all, we had all the weed we could ever smoke but, I didn't put two-and-two together until that moment. I did a lot of drugs, yes, but I didn't want anything to do with selling them in Hawaii. We broke up and I moved out.
My place at Kammieland
I moved to a small duplex right in front of Kammieland with a friend and her two year old son. I had a good job, a dependable car, and now a place in front of a perfect surf spot. I was on top of the world.
A big Samoan guy named Imua lived next door. His bedroom was on the other side of my bedroom wall. I'd hear him and his little asian girlfriend pound, pound, pounding and pant, pant, panting all the time. Imua was a friend of Eddie Rothman so Da Hui would come by to drink beers and cook out. At some point Eddie asked me out. We dated a couple of times before he took me up to his new big house that was being built on the hill above Sunset Beach.
"And what is it you do?" I asked Eddie. He only shrugged. I knew something about Da Hui and their dealings, and seeing Eddie's house was a confirmation that I didn't want to get in the middle of it. I politely told him that I wasn't interested in becoming a part of the Hawaiian Mafia. He was real good about it and we stayed friends even though we hardly saw each other after that. The best thing was, I now had the freedom to surf the West Side, including Makaha.
I started seeing a guy who shaped surfboards in his backyard. (There are tons of backyard shapers on the North Shore!), and I got my first hawaiian kneeboard. We broke up when he started going to the North Shore Christian Fellowship (NSCF) with a co-worker and fellow kneeboarder friend of mine. My friend and I would spend a lot of time in the restroom at work snorting our tips. One day she decided she was doing far too much coke so, she started going to church. The NSCF met under a tent at Waimea Beach Park. Her and my boyfriend became Born Again under that tent. She never did cocaine again.
Truth be told, I was still reading the Bible that my Mom had gotten me, but I wasn't ready to pay attention to it, and I was pretty upset about losing my coke buddy. Little did I know that I too was about to crash into a violent wall and end up at the NSCF church.
My new 5'8" super-light twin fin kneeboard
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