On my birthday I went surfing at Suis after work, even though I was feeling sick, the sun was setting, cold winds were whipping the minuscule waves and there were at least six people out, including the groms.
At such times I remember the lecture that Tomi Winkler, the best surfer in our gang, used to give me when we were 15 years old: “If you want to be a good surfer, you have to go out every day, no matter what!”
There were more surfers than waves, but I hadn’t missed a birthday session since I moved home seven years ago.
When I reached the lineup, Dashiell, the polite grom whose mane of thick, dark-blond hair reminds me of Tomi’s, smiled and greeted me. Such is youth, forgiving and forgetting the many frowns I’d lobbed his way when he outmaneuvered me for a wave without seemingly even trying to.
I decided to appeal to his good nature. “It’s my birthday, so you can give me a wave.”
Dash’s eyes widened. “How old are you?” he asked, deadpan.
“I am a thousand years old.”
The groms cracked up. “Next wave we have to give to Mindy,” Dash told his pals.
I missed it, of course, but they pretended not to see.
To my surprise, they gave me more chances. Sometimes when Dash had priority, he’d turn to me and ask, “Want this one?”
After the sun vanished into the sea and the waves began to melt into the dark, the normally quiet Dash began to coach me. “Go, Mindy!” he’d shout as a wave loomed outside. He wanted me to start paddling sooner. “Go! Go-o-o!”
My heart flooded with memories of other nightfalls in the lineup, waves and faces raked by the lighthouse beam as Tomi shouted, “Go, Mindy!”
All at once I felt like a member of a gang again, a hapless girl mascot they wanted to succeed as a point of neighborhood pride.
It was my little birthday miracle, the thousand-year-old woman restored briefly to youth.
OCTOBER is a pretty great month on the South Shore. Now that summer’s officially over, surfers are turning their attention north and the crowds are tapering off.
It’s also a great month for birthdays. Among the five women regulars at Suis, four of us — Aimee, Cristal, Debbie and I — are born in October. Sydney was born in early November, close enough. And now Debbie’s daughter Kalae, who turned 12 this month, is learning to surf.
Captain Cal always remembers. “Happy birthday, Mindy!” he’ll say. “I’m gonna give you all the waves you want today.” Then he conveniently forgets.
That’s OK. He simply can’t resist paddling for everything, and he’s generous in other ways.
A few years ago, Captain Cal and Penelope, his October-born wife, started an annual tradition of inviting our Suis girl gang for a communal birthday bash.
But in addition to birthdays, October also brings Halloween and the Day of the Dead, a time to reflect with gratitude on those who came before.
I just learned about a 16th-century South Shore surfer, Kelea Nui Noho Ana Api Api, from a reader, Rico Leffanta, who wrote in an email, “The most beautiful woman on Maui, she married a Kauai chief but left him to surf the waves of Waikiki.”
Another beauty, October-born Princess Kaiulani, lived in Waikiki and was known to have surfed, according to Dave Kemble, senior exhibit designer at Bishop Museum, which has in its collection a graceful alaia board that belonged to the princess.
Although she never surfed, my mom was a member of a girl gang. They called themselves “the Coven” and met for potluck dinners once a month. A politically active, outspoken bunch, it included her best friend Mona Altieri, our neighbor Josette Rosof, anthropologist Marion Kelly and former lieutenant governor Jean King. Mona, the last survivor of the group, died last year, and at her memorial service there was a photo of the coven sitting at a picnic table in a beach park, overlooking the waves, about 25 years ago.
In the light of the camera flash, their still-youthful faces shone with happiness and camaraderie.
“In the Lineup” features Hawaii’s oceangoers and their regular hangouts, from the beach to the deep blue sea. Reach Mindy Pennybacker at mpennybacker@staradvertiser.com or call 529-4772.
