Salt spray and energy fill the Honolulu air as the waves charge shoreward in the vast, light-filled arena that stretches from Portlock to Point Panic, peaking with transparent beauty in Waikiki. It’s summer at last.
Although its official start is June 20, this summer kicked off for surfers with an advisory-level Mother’s Day swell — too big, alas, for this mother.
But I’ve been looking forward to Kamehameha Day weekend, with its traditional epic swell and my wedding anniversary, today.
It hadn’t occurred to my fiance and me when we set the date that some people would have long-standing holiday plans and thus would miss our wedding.
As it turned out, I almost didn’t make it, myself.
The night before our wedding, we had a lei-sewing party in the oceanfront gazebo of our neighbor. I heard the surf rising and watched the white line of foam out at Suicides, my home break.
The next morning, while my fiance dealt with his sunburned and distracted California family, I decided to calm my nerves with a quick surf. The waves were perfect. And so maybe I returned just a tad late: A white limousine was idling in our driveway. Behind one window hung a ghostly shape — my chiffon wedding gown.
“Your hair is wet!” my mother cried as, having hastily pulled on a sweatsuit, I climbed into the back seat beside her.
In the dressing room of the chapel, my maid of honor tried her best to dry and style my thick, salty locks.
A pikake head circlet and six-strand lei improved matters. I hoped, as I walked down the aisle on my grandfather’s arm, that my hair would not drip. It did.
My almost-husband wore the slightly stunned look of one to whom is suddenly revealed the true nature of his bride.
At the open-air reception, our fragrant plumeria lei beautified tables and tree trunks. Puamana played, led by Irmgard Aluli. Family and friends, surfers included, sang and danced, and the party went late. My mother finally smiled at me.
For 27 years my husband and I lived in New York; we moved back into my old family home seven years ago. I’ve become part of a new social network — the Sui’s lineup — where surfers coexist much as do the fish and morays who timeshare holes in the reef. The early shift includes Captain Cal, Dentist Dave, 12-Step Sammy and Whole Hog (all nicknames I’ve given them). Professor Pauline, Yoga Dude and packs of groms fill in throughout the day. You can meet them all in future installments of this column.
Today, though, is our anniversary. We’ve got a dinner reservation. It was originally for 7:30, but I changed it to 8 because, realistically, I’ll surf till sunset at 7:14; catch a wave and paddle in (five to 15 minutes), run home and rinse off sand (4-1/2 minutes), run upstairs and shower (3-1/2 minutes), towel off and blast hair with dryer (three minutes), get dressed and fumble with makeup (five minutes) and run downstairs and out to car with shoes and hairbrush in hand (one minute).
My husband will drive (20 minutes), windows open, as I air-dry my hair.
Which will still arrive wet. My husband says he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“In the Lineup” features Hawaii’s oceangoers and their regular hangouts, from the beach to the deep blue sea. It appears every other Sunday. Reach Mindy Pennybacker at mpennybacker@staradvertiser.com or call 529-4772.
