False Starts in a Five Hour Race

An free sample from my book "Paddles Up! Huki!"

The club wasn’t racing Na Pali this year, I was without a crew. But the Big Island club I had been helping haul their canoes had an open seat and invited me. It was a brand-new canoe, and their team was grateful I filled the empty seat. We met up the day of the race loaded our gear on the escort boat and got ready. The ladies were starting so I provided some tips to their steerswoman. I told her to stay outside the break coming out of Hanalei, better to play it safe and not follow the more experienced crews inside. It would be close to the crew change call and if she was caught inside the escort boat wouldn’t be able to get to them. It was a “local knowledge” break, time the swells right and you get a bump from the waves, cut the corner leading into Haena and get an advantage. Get it wrong and you are riding the wave upside down into shore.

???????This being the day after the state championships, the championship officials were invited to officiate. But this was Na Pali, an informal affair more about enjoying the trip than racing for recorded victories. So, it was quite the surprise when we had over a hundred canoes launch from the beach and race out of the bay only to hear that the officials had called a false start and halted the race before we’d left the bay. There we all were, wondering what was going on, it’s a thirty-five-mile race over five hours long. We could understand a false start in a regatta sprint, but seriously? The crews were instructed to line up again and when everybody is together in line we would start from there. The canoes all gathered behind the official’s boat, lined up and started again. We had only gotten a few yards when the race was stopped again, another false start?! Now you could hear grumbling coming from the canoes, people shouting to “just start the damned race”! So once again we lined up and once again, we started to race out of the bay…. What? Again?! This time one of the canoes paddled up to the officials’ boat and had some very harsh words for the officials, with a decidedly menacing tone. This time there was no waiting and no line up, just a call to “start the race” and off we went. What stuck in my mind was that single Koa canoe from the Big Island. Her story had become well known and she was talked about during the regatta the day before. All during the delays and repeated starts she sat alone. Each time there was a delay all the canoes around her gave her plenty of space, no one wanted to be the one that bumped or collided with her. We stayed close as she was part of the club I was with and had her red and gold escort out of the bay.

It was a good thing I had passed along the info to stay outside the break to the ladies’ crew. With all the delays caused by the false start issues our change call was right at the break. I watched some of the crews come back outside to meet with their escort boats, barely making the deadline. We were just getting started up and made our changes just outside of the break, riding the swells under us and catching some spray as the waves broke just inside of us. This was the first change, so we took it slow, making sure the change was smooth and there were no issues, we’d get better with practice. I was sitting in the fifth seat this race so I could advise the steersman as we paddled along the course. The false starts had been forgotten, now we were paddling in a race, and it was time to dig in, reach and paddle for distance. I had known the Haena area since I was a small child and it had always held a special place in my memories. Today I was paddling past so didn’t get to enjoy the view of the long stretch of white sandy beach framed by Coconut palms and Ironwood trees. I could feel the swells passing under the canoe as they lined up outside the reef and hear the breaking waves to port but only imagine the rainbows in the billowing mist of spray blown aloft by the breeze. I had two jobs today, paddle and advise, make sure my crew had the best chance of doing well and fully enjoying the Na Pali experience. This was one of the crews that only get to paddle Na Pali in the years when the states are held on Kaua’i, I needed to be sure they had the best time possible. The ladies were just ahead of us in the escort boat readying for their turn and I could see they all had out their cameras and phones, like so many visitors trying to capture the images of the coast from a vantage point few get to see. I could see them put away their phones and grab their gear before we heard the yell “five minutes!”. We kept digging, get as much speed going for the last minutes we were in the canoe.

The ladies got up on the gunnels of the escort boat and jumped in, lining up in their positions as we approached. We dug hard for a few strokes, then it was paddles up as the ladies reached us. We had caught a bump and had a good clip going when we made the change. This time it was quick and almost flawless, we fell over the starboard side and the ladies grabbed the port, pulling themselves up and in as we cheered them on. The canoe was still moving well as they reached up with their paddles and began their session. It felt good, the change was quick, the ladies were paddling smoothly, and the canoe was catching the bumps, small surfing runs for that “effortless effort” of a smooth downhill session. We kept cheering them on, treading water until they were clear. The escort boat pulled up and had a mooring line dragging behind it so we could hold onto the rope and pull our way up to the stern and then board. I grabbed my snacks and drinks, wolfing them down eagerly. Then it was time to man the gunnel and advise the ladies, sharing the tips I had learned to take full advantage of the seas and get the most out of the canoe. They already knew most of it, coming from Honaunau as they did. These waters were much like home, with a little Na Pali twist of the speed of the swell. Time it right and you can spend the whole half hour surfing, letting the waves do the work. I then spoke to the captain, asking him to take the ladies inside on their break so they could see the caves and waterfalls along the coast by Kalalau valley. He nodded and had that little smile of conspiracy, no doubt he had done this before and gotten that “Wow” factor of sightseeing this stretch of coast.?

We got the five-minute warning over the radio and passed it back to the ladies. Then we readied up for our session. We would spend our session crossing in front of Kalalau, then changing crews as we neared the Cathedrals. We lined up in front of the ladies, the starbursts of waves being lit up by the sun was all around them, flashes of sunlight reflecting off their blades as they paddled through this brilliant sunlit sea. Then we were in the water, lining up and making the smooth change that usually happens when you are warmed up in the middle of the race. We quickly got our rhythm and continued, that effortless effort in a following sea. As soon as the ladies were in the escort boat they took off, heading for shore. There was plenty of time during the thirty-minute break, five minutes to get to the coast, fifteen minutes to explore the caves and then the race back out to find us and ready for the change. We were alone, just a couple of canoes in the distance, the faint sound of their change calls breaking the silence. This was the ageless, timeless session with the sea. There was the beauty of Kalalau to our left, the Cathedrals in front of us and brilliant blue all around and below us. It would have been the same a thousand years before, except that there would have been a thriving community in the valley, farming Taro and sweet potato, harvesting Breadfruit and Kukui nut. Their canoes would all have been Koa, with sails woven of Lauhala, cordage of sennit from coconut fiber. The simple life of farming and fishing, shielded by the steep valley walls. We were traveling an ancient path, following in the paddle strokes of ancestors who would be as comfortable on the ocean as they would on land, and thank the gods for their good fortune to have this place as their home.

Soon we could see our escort boat heading back towards us, the ladies in full tourist mode, group and selfies still being taken with Kalalau as a backdrop. Then the call comes through, and all cameras and phones are stored, gear is retrieved and the ladies’ line up in the stern. In short order they are in the water, still smiles and laughter as we approach. Again, it was a smooth transition, and the ladies pick up the pace right where we left off, the canoe back up to speed within a few strokes. This was the run from Cathedrals to Miloli’i, time to ease in to shore and catch the shoreline current created by the following sea. The ladies’ transition from deep blue water to grayish blue as they cross over the boulder strewn bottom then to the greener water of the offshore reef. The current is carrying the canoe along, so the ladies make good time, continuing that smooth stroke in a following sea. The wind dies and the heat builds, but their session is almost over, and I suck down a bottle to combat the heat to come, as do the other men. Then it is time to jump in and paddle the transition session from the cliffs of Miloli’i to the beach at Polihale with the midday sun overhead.

Into the water, line up, switch out, we’ve got this down now, although a little slower this time. But soon enough we are back up to speed and head for Polihale. The swell shifts slowly from following to beam as we move along the west side, the swell providing a little bump as it travels under us. There is no rebound since this is a surf break and the waves simply break, run to shore, and disappear into the sand. There is no wind, only the blazing sun beating down on us. Thankfully these sessions are only thirty minutes between crew changes. I remind myself this is a Honaunau crew, used to paddling the hot sunny days along the Kona coast, this is nothing to them. We approach Barking Sands and the crew change. I tell the steersman of the outside reef, the change will need to be outside, follow the escort boat. We can see the small wave breaking over the reef ahead and the escort boat slowing as the ladies ready up. Then the ladies are in the water, we paddle up and the change is made.

There is no cool water this time, it’s warm from the sun’s rays. But it is still wet and clear so refreshing, nonetheless. We cheer the ladies on and float for a couple of minutes as the escort boat makes a careful turn outside and then back to us. No sense rushing, we have plenty of time. I suck down a third bottle and a packet of gel as soon as I get in the boat, this will be a hot hour or two heading home to the finish. I talk to the steersman about the next couple of sessions for us, stay in close, use the sandy bottom and swells to get bumps along the way. We will probably be finishing so head outside as soon as we cross the finish to line up for the sprint into the harbor between the breakwaters and between the sets. Then we are next to the ladies, and I shout out the same advice, stay in close, use the bumps, it will be sandy for the whole session, then head outside as the water gets dirty. The ladies are killing it, they have their stroke down, smooth, and synchronous. The changes are flawless, hardly a splash, 6 paddles, one stroke. We approach Nohili point and the turn?south for the finish. The ladies will get one more session and it looks like the men will be bringing it home. We get the call and tell the ladies we will cut it close so they can get as much time in the canoe as possible. The change call comes over the radio and we wait three minutes, jumping in as the fourth minute ticks off. The change is smooth, and we head south.

Civilization begins to appear again, as do some of the fleet that had taken the outside track. There are the shoreline homes, interspersed with Ironwood and Palm trees. We still hold the inside track, but we are not alone. A few other canoes come in close to ride the bumps and for a few minutes we succumb to the desire to match race in a five-hour race. Soon enough our bodies and steersmen remind us and we regain our sanity, the coaches voice in my head “keep your head in the boat”. The water flowing out of Waimea canyon begins to turn the water brown, impossible to see the bottom anymore. The steersman asks about the bottom, and I reply to head outside, it may be mud, or rocks or reef, but the escort will stay outside, follow him. We head outside the upcoming surf break and the call comes over the radio. This is always the quickest change of the race. Nobody wants to be drifting around in a murky water surf break. The water is dirty, and the Jaws theme always seems to be playing in the background. The boat gets close to us, it’s just a few yards as the ladies get in, we change in a flash and we begin swimming to the boat, no floating around this time!

This is the last session for the ladies, and they are leaving it all in the boat. The final change buoy will be close to the thirty-minute mark and then the call will need to be made whether the ladies should “Iron” the final leg or switch with the men. We cheer the ladies on as I watch the clock. The ladies started their push as soon as they got in the canoe and close to the end began to ease off, settling down to the distance rhythm as they neared the buoy. The change call was coming soon, and I advised them to relax, we would bring it home. It was not for the sake of our male egos, I knew the breakwater and the conditions, the safest call was to have the local knowledge in the canoe after the finish. The water was still murky but had shifted from muddy brown to sea foam green. Still, we lined up just at the buoy and waited for the call.

As soon as it came, we jumped in, and the crew change was just in front of the buoy. We hit the canoe running, the ladies cheering us on as we started like they did, but soon trying to settle in for the long-haul home. No such luck for us however, as there were several canoes giving chase, putting on final bursts of their own. The last few miles became a match race, each crew pushing as hard as they could, their cheerleading sections next to them in the escort boats. The finish was close at hand, with several canoes and their escorts cheering us to the finish. We managed to hold off several canoes, losing out to one boat right at the line. Exhausted, we slowly got off the line and congratulated each other and the other crews on a great race. Then it was time to shoot the gap to the harbor. I looked ahead and saw a swell had built, telling the steersman we needed to get outside of the break, move straight out now. He looked up just as a set broke outside and headed way outside to be safe. We joined the lineup and let a couple of sets pass by so we could get the timing, letting other Kaua’i crews show us the way. Then it was our turn. We lined up and started our wave catching sprint on the next to last wave of the set. It slipped under us, and we rode the last wave in close to the entry. Then it was the “paddle for your lives!” pace into the harbor entry, riding the first wave of the next set through the breakwaters and joining the cluster of canoes on the beach. My truck and the trailer had been brought down so we loaded the canoes and secured them before we headed for the party. Then I headed back home with their canoes in tow. I did not think there were prizes to be had, just a fun day, but our crew finished very well, and the ladies tracked me down to give me my T-shirt and CD case as well as to thank me for my help. Once again Na Pali was a great memory and some new friends made along the way.???

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