The middle-aged surfer, heavily muscled if soft in the midsection, commanded the Suis lineup, eagle eyes shaded by the brim of his trucker cap. It was winter, and town shores were receiving an off-season swell.

“Today I’m getting waves on both shores,” he said to another guy. “I surfed Waimea this morning.”

I was surprised and impressed: Not just anyone could surf Waimea Bay, the arena of titans.

Actually, it depends. There’s classic Waimea, breaking at least 20-25 feet as measured from the back, Hawaiian-style (35- to 50-foot faces): the threshold for holding the Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational. Then there’s the Waimea in Star-Advertiser staff photographer Craig T. Kojima’s Dec. 5 shot of six riders on one wave.

“What were they thinking?” Kojima asked me.

Good question. Why take party waves at this hallowed, hazardous spot? I asked Mark Healey and Aaron Gold, North Shore residents and Eddie contestants (the holding period closes Feb. 28).

“When I see a lot of people dropping in, it’s usually when it’s not really big Waimea,” said Healey, estimating the wave in the photo at 12-feet Hawaiian. “If you see six on the wave, that means there were probably 15 paddling for it.”

While many surfers at Waimea, even on smaller days, are experienced waterpersons, “You get a lot of novice surfers on a day like that,” said Gold. “With each increment in size the wave changes where it breaks and gets heavier and steeper.”

Both surfers cited the surge in extreme sports and adventure tourism as contributing to crowding on smaller days.

“I always joke that the people at Waimea are more dangerous than the waves, but it’s true,” Healey said.

When he surfs Waimea at 12 to 15 feet, Healey anticipates boards raining down on his head. “If you take off deeper and try to pull into a barrel on a day with a crowd, you’re running a giant risk you’ll get on a rail, drastically committed to making that turn, which doesn’t give you any time to readjust if somebody’s dropping in on you,” he said.

Why do they drop in?

“When you first start to surf bigger waves, you’re kind of in your tunnel vision,” Gold explained. “When you’re more comfortable, you have a bigger perspective.”

Even experienced surfers occasionally wind up sharing big Waimea waves, he said, “because you’re both in a position where you have to commit to a wave to catch it.”

WAIMEA beckons with its stunning natural arena, nearshore visibility and as “literally the only place in world where you can kinda compare yourself to big-wave surfers in the past, where it all started,” Healey said.

However, he and Gold added, today’s amateurs shouldn’t think they’re like the titans of yore, big-wave pioneers seen sharing Waimea waves in photos from the 1950s and ’60s.

“It’s a misconception that’s carried over, that it’s OK to have lots of people on a wave,” Gold said. “Back then, there was maybe a handful, not even more than 10 guys, that surfed it at a time; there (was) enough space there for them to be sharing waves.” Plus, they didn’t have leashes, much less flotation vests, so they were “always watching out for other guys, right there to get their boards.”

Gold, who nearly drowned in 2016 after a hold-down at Cloudbreak, Fiji, and was revived by Healey and others, urges that everyone take safety courses and learn CPR. “Every time you surf, treat it with the same respect whether it’s 1 foot or 100 feet. Be prepared,” he said.

He, his wife, Corinne Gold, and their daughters Ava, 8, and Sadie, 5, all have lifesaving training.

While big-wave opportunities keep opening up around the world and they’ve both won awards at Peahi (Jaws) on Maui, Healey and Gold said Waimea remains a thrill.

“You can always tell, on the bigger big days, Eddie-size days, the biggest, best wave will usually have only one guy on it,” Gold said. “A crazy, heavy wave everybody had to paddle away from and one person sat there, kept their nerve and went for it.”

Only Waimea owns the contest and slogan inspired by that incomparable lifeguard who would go.