Freedom with Friends

Everyone needs some time out from routine. This photo of Mandy on our walk along the rolling green hills from Gerringong to Kiama sums up the elation I felt hanging out with friends this weekend and doing things just for fun.

Kauai Challenge Relay - Maps and Stats

Finally had the opportunity to download my GPS data for the Kauai Challenge Relay! 54km of tough conditions, spectacular landings and great surfing. Check out the earlier posting below for our race report

PD Paddle Chicks

Kauai Challenge Relay (Saturday 7 May)

It was race day again. Charms and I were nervous about today. It meant a lot to both of us to successfully complete the race, for many reasons.

The forecast for dropping winds for the weekend was wrong. The winds had blown all night, and the trees outside our window had amplified the sound. The trades usually drop off at dusk to start again the following morning around 8am, but it had been unusual weather all week, with continuous rain and never ceasing 20-30kt winds.

It was a short and quiet drive down to Wailua. But when we arrived at the race site, things became alive. Despite the grey of the sky, there were colourful canoes and paddlers sprawled everywhere amongst the driftwood on the beach. The drummers were drumming and the atmosphere was buzzing. The general consensus was that these conditions were big, even by Hawaiian standards. There were different responses to this. Peter was smiling gleefully, excited and pumped by the pounding waves reaching the shore. Some of the other girls were more apprehensive, asking if there were accompanying jet ski’s to save them if they huli'd.

I was completely terrified and confronted by the decision as to whether we would race or not. It was a tough moment. Back in Sydney I wouldn't have had to make this decision. There is no way this race would have gone ahead with the waves breaking several hundred metres out from shore, the white caps never disappearing on the horizon and the wind gusting around the canoes. But I really, really wanted to race. To get out on the Hawaiian waters. Really it wasn't a decision. I was always going to go out. I figured there is always a time to test where your limits are, and this was as good an opportunity as ever. And after last weekend, I had learnt that what happens, happens.

Erasing any kind of doubt, we went searching for Peter and our orange Hurricane.

From Charmian

Shell went first, facing a mass of frothing water, turbulent, teasing and rough. Throwing up the  odd monster breaker for a joke. One caught her in its maw before the start, shook her like an angry dog savaging a cat for fun, then spat her out, shaken but not completely stirred. She looked a tiny dot out there, thoroughly living up to her name  for this trip of "little Shell".

I had to turn my back on this scene, hope she would be ok and run, (as my race had begun as well), and I was somewhat nervous about having to navigate my way by road to the first changeover, with my GPS somewhere out on the water.

I followed other paddlers' cars and arrived at Hanama'ulu Bay where waves were breaking ominously over the wall and the obelisk and joined the line of other paddlers along the beach, waiting anxiously for their partners to arrive.

 A new friend of ours, Jules, took the opportunity to introduce me to one of the top surf-skiers on the island who talked me through the  route that I should take on my way out in order to avoid being pushed into the "hole of no return".

From Shell

Out on the water I was resolute. Even getting to the start line was proving difficult! I was intensely watching the breaking waves and trying to pick the best line through them. But everywhere I looked there seemed to be another curling monster out to surprise me. I was so determined to get through this first leg so that Charmian would get to paddle. I grabbed as much water as I could each stroke, hoping to propel my way as quickly as possible, and also to show the water that I could be strong and was going to be an equal match today. It was an incredible sight to see the waves mount up in front of the canoe, they just kept getting bigger and bigger and I kept on wondering when then would start to crash down.

All of a sudden I stopped wondering, I looked up to see the wall of water in front of me begin to break. I could see the support boat and starting line just 100m away. Nooooooo.....there was a brief struggle between me and wave as I desperately tried to stay on the canoe...I was so close to the start. But the wave won, and took the canoe with it. I was left clasping my paddle and was dragged along by my leg which was attached by the leg rope to the canoe. Thinking, "this cannot be happening" I did a quick check of the canoe. All ok. Phew! Scrambling aboard, and with the pack already started ahead of me, I decided it was just time to paddle, one stroke at a time and get to Hanama'ulu Bay.

From here it was ok, waves from the ama side crashed in front of me, and sometimes over the canoe, but I stayed on. The wind buffeted my left cheek, but after 15min, I started to get used to the rhythm of the swell and the big gusts coming through. I even managed to catch up and over take two other canoes, which was great, but meant that I no longer had anyone to follow. I finally spotted the two Norfolk Pines acting as my landmark, turned, and followed the swell into the bay. I have never had such a feeling of relief as I did touching the sand and handing over the canoe to Charmian. I had done it. I had survived this first leg, and she would get a chance to be tested herself.

From Charmian

It was with much relief that I saw Shell arrive triumphantly around the bend, surging over the breaking wall of water to hand over the metaphorical baton and the challenge that came with it to me. I headed out against the forceful ocean,  pumping through the  gap in the surf line. It felt as if I was competing against a bulldozer driving towards me in the opposite direction. It was important to go far out to the turn buoy in order to avoid the "hole of no return", but the swell and the wind were determined to push you that way.

I rounded the buoy to see the lighthouse far away (my point of reference guiding me where to go). It must have saved many lives on this treacherous shore, I thought of the nesting shearwaters at it's base moaning their eerie call and wondered if the monk seals might put in an appearance, but alas no.

The waves were now as large as cathedrals rearing up on my ama side, curling around me and the orange canoe and sometimes testing me by caressing me just that little bit  too hard and close and pushing the ama to close on vertical before letting me pass unscathed. It felt at times as if I was a character in a computer game and one had to hope that ones operator had the skill and the fast enough reactions to keep you on track when the largest tests were unleashed.

All was going well until I was shipwrecked by a wave the size of Everest (I kid you not, wait for the video), and got on again with some trepidation in order to sort  my leg rope out, wondering whether its sister k2 might be on the horizon, and then.... my seat slid back as I approached the lighthouse rocks making me point my toes like a ballerina in order to steer. Peter had said to hug the right when coming through, but this was easier said than done with ballerina toes and paddle steering. The surf wave that guards the harbour here mounts the walls and sprays the passing cars  with water as high as a firework shower. It loomed to my left and centre.

It wasn't until late I saw "the little Shell" a dot of orange to my right. I turned and surfed down to her, this was fun.

From Shell

With leg 1 under my belt, I was feeling more confident and looking forward to getting out on the water again for leg 3 from Kalapaki to Po'ipu. The challenge of this leg was a headwind for the first 25min, the dealing with ama side swell and reflection from the spectacular towering cliffs on your right as you head down the coastline. I was glad of all the training we had done around South Head and North Head at home.

As I waited on the beach, the tales of difficulties from the previous legs started to filter through. There was the OC2 that fell apart on the way out to the start line under a freak wave like the one I had encountered. The ski paddler who had huli'd 15 times. And whilst this was happening I saw a couple of canoes cart wheeling on the shore break and a Pueo being dragged up the beach on its tail with a nasty gash beneath its nose, obviously filled with water and a victim of the race.

With relief and delight I spotted orange on the horizon, and Charmian gleefully surfing down the harbour towards the shore. Aware of the shore break, I didn't celebrate too soon, but waded out further, caught the canoe and spun it around as quickly as I could. We had a close call as the next wave came through, but then we were safe, and I was off out of the harbour.

I started the grind into the wind, taking a wide line around the break wall and then aiming for the furthermost headland. The cliffs to my right were amazing, and taunting at the same time. Like the call of Mordor they tried to lure you to their deadly grasp with the swell perfectly aligned to take you in. I gave in a couple of times, and surfed towards them cautiously, but was conscious of not getting too carried away, turning left to keep my original line.

I was having a great time! It was challenging, but I loved the way the swells lifted you up and carried you forward. It was a bit unnerving to hear the crashing of the waves as a white cap formed either behind or in front of the canoe, but at the same time I was amazed at the sheer size of the swell coming through. I lost control of the canoe a couple of times and scooted up a wave, flipping at the top, but after each huli I became a bit calmer, as I showed myself that I could easily recover and I wasn't in any danger (as long as I kept a long way from the rocks!)

It took about 1hr 45 to complete the 18km leg. I felt steady and strong the whole way, and had some great surfing along the second half. At Po'ipu I stopped to watch the waves break along the reef before I entered the small bay - luckily as the set ahead of me broke the whole way across and would have taken me onto the rocks. Safely on shore, with my race complete, I cheered at Charms and sent her off for the last leg.

It was time to celebrate. You couldn't possibly wipe the smile off my face. In fact, I think I can admit to dancing along the shoreline. It was high fives all round - I wasn't the only one on the beach to be relieved and proud that we'd made it. I felt our common achievement bound us together.

Mike, one of the race organisers, invited me to join his friends at a house not far away as we waited for our paddling partners to tough it out on the ocean. I felt a little guilty sitting in the kitchen overlooking the water, having a beer and snacking on cheese after a decadent hot shower whilst Charmian was out there. But hey, it had been a tough day! It was a great feeling to share stories of freak waves, seemingly endless runs and find that the locals had found it as challenging as I had. We had survived something special.

From Charmian

Waiting at Poipu for the little orange canoe, I saw several wipe outs on the rocks, paddlers coming in and going out were beaten off their boats and for several the race ended there.

Shell came surfing up looking cool as a cucumber from the distance. I was relieved to see her slow and watch one of the freakish guillotine like waves disperse before entering the fairy tale doorway.

The portal was kind to her. She slid off and I hopped on. She looked tired and strained but also euphoric and why not? she had accomplished big time. It was up to me to finish it off and I wasn't going to stuff up our adventure now. Pushing the memory of the last hour of wipeouts to the back of my mind, it was with some trepidation that I went towards the threshold of the break. I waited for a large one to flatten  then sprinted through on the calm, Out, Far Out,  away from the bubble bath of broken boats and foaming furies, out and into the wind before turning. They must have thought I was mad, the watchers on the shore, heading backwards, but I didn't care because it worked! 

I turned around and  I was flying,  soaring up and down on top of the water, not in it, never stopping, linking the fliers shifting my weight back to avoid the nose dive, or the somersaulting on the big ones, sometimes bracing to the left or right before skidding onto the next..." and I was filled with such delight, as prisoned birds must find in freedom, winging wildly on and on and out of sight...."

My enjoyment came to an abrupt halt though, when having passed the  two guys that I had been chasing a sudden squall set in making visibility almost nil. I could no longer see the land or where I was heading. This was frustrating as I had been having such fun. There was nothing to do but wait, and wait...for them to catch me up again. Looming out of the mist I glimpsed the occasional tree which disappeared again as soon as I had seen it. I couldn't believe this was happening so close to the end.

Eventually one of the guys caught me up. A local. "Keep out wide" he said," the biggest breaker is somewhere close to our right, look for the buoy ahead". Off I went again, but looking for a buoy with no visibility and waves the size of ancient monuments was like looking for a needle in a haystack. I had to wait again. This time one of the safety boats came up. They drove towards a smudge a little further out which turned out to be another safety boat guarding the passage to the turn buoy which once rounded, would show me the Catherine wheel of surf to avoid on my right as I faced the headwind again to finish the leg.

A marquee on the shore was sheltering those already finished and Shell was there looking rested on the shore to cheer me in. It was so nice to see her, and know we had finished! Wow what fun, what enormous waves. I so want to do it again, (now I know where to go).

We did it! Charms finishes at Salt Ponds

Some true quotes and facts and bits of trivia picked up at the after party:

·     Travis Grant hulied twice during the race during the 3rd leg

·     Tom Bartlett said; "that's as tough as it gets".

·    The men from Moolloolabar crew broke their boat on the rocks at the third change. (Having also had to withdraw from the Kaiwi Challenge race due to a broken iaku)

·    One of the guys we'd done the down winder with last Thursday said it was the biggest conditions that he had seen for this race, to date, and he didn't expect to see it like that again soon.

So we learned heaps, kept us and the boat safe, and had huge amounts of fun.

PD Chicks went surfing in Hawaii at LAST!  

Finally time for a paddle - and what a paddle it was! (Thursday 5 May)

Today has been the most crazy day of paddling, and paddling related events I've ever had.
The day started quite calmly. Charmian and I had a bit of a sleep in, and a leisurely breakfast, knowing that the race started at noon. We had checked out all the viewpoints yesterday, noting all the tricky parts and deciding the best line to take and so the only thing that was making us anxious was the 25-30kt winds howling outside, sounding not dissimilar to noise at the lighthouse yesterday that had turned out to be emanating from the Shearwaters.

We had decided to leave at 10am to give us ample time to cover the 45 minute drive up north with a stop at the light house to check out the conditions on the way, whilst also giving us an hour to set up the boats, register and prepare. Gene was to meet us up there with both canoes, so everything seemed in control.
As we came into phone reception our phone began to tinkle. 2 missed calls. The first was from Gene. I couldn't quite make out what he said. Something about race cancelled. South start. Then something about the canoes. It was a long message. The second was from Dylon, the Fenn dealer who we had run into yesterday, and who had offered to take us canoe surfing later in the week. His message was a bit clearer, but kept cutting out too.

A few frantic calls later, we figured out that the race had been moved from the north of the island to the south of the island as a large northerly swell had come through, making landings on the northerly course perilous. We were going to run the fourth leg of the race, from Poi'pu to Salt Ponds. Gene also gave us the unfortunate news that he wouldn't be able to drive his boat all the way down for us.

So 90min out from the start of our race we had no canoes and no idea where we were going.
Gene, in aloha spirit, managed to sort things out for us. We needed to drop by Kalapaki Beach, which was on our way south, where we would meet Peter and pick up the Hurricane. He then suggested we ring Tom Bartlet and borrow a second canoe from him. Charms got straight on the phone and rapidly started writing down directions of how to get to Peter's canoe club and I started sorting out the soft racks. We did a u-turn and hurtled south.

At 11am we forged through a series of muddied ponds on the dirt track to the canoe club. Peter helped us with his canoe (orange - yay!) and I rolled around under the car to find suitable attachment points. Canoe secured, Peter very kindly offered to show us the back street way to Poi'pu.

Incredibly thankful, we followed him through the taro fields of rural Kauai. One eye on the back of his pick-up, the other on the canoe perched on top of the car, with glances at the clock. At 11:55am we turned into the car park at Poi'pu just as Tom Bartlett was ringing us to say, "where are you guys?"

A very brief moment of contemplation

We had no time to think. No time to look at the conditions and determine whether we really were up to this blustery paddle. In a flash we had put together the Hurricane, sorted out Charmian's Scorpious and were following the others down to the beach. I had no idea where we were going, but did get a moment to ask, "so how far is it?" 10 miles (16kms) was the response.

Heading out

We followed Tom and the others through a curtain of waves, a couple curling over us as we made our way through the surf break. Charmian thought immediately of Tom's final words, "don't damage my boat". I stopped worrying about where I was going, and became much more focussed on what I was doing at that immediate point in time.

Yikes! Even getting out was tricky

Turning with the wind directly behind me, I felt the canoe leap forward in a burst of energy. Wheeee this was going to be awesome! It appeared we weren't really in a race, but a paddle with the locals... somehow, without realising it, we had begun.

Charms had not heard how the "start" was going to work and was talking to one of the senior paddlers about what to look for - a red buoy to pass well on the right. She became obsessed with finding the red buoy.

I decided to try my mightiest to keep Tom in sight for as long as possible. We flew down the waves like the albatrosses we had seen gliding on the thermals yesterday, sometimes with the ama held aloft in the air, true Hawaiian style. This was rather alarming, but also rather wonderful. Why couldn't every wave be caught like this! It was like weaving through a maze. Sometimes connecting a few good turns and at other times arriving at a blank wall and having to regroup and start again.

Wheee! We're off (although not quite flying the ama like a relaxed Hawaiian)

I looked up at one point to marvel at the enormous troughs of water rolling ahead of me...then realised that I had just been through that trough, and back up the other side...and promptly went back to thinking about the bit of water just in front of my canoe. The realisation of what we were actually doing was a little extreme.

It's incredible how much you can learn on a 2hr massive downwind paddle. My previous downwind philosophy had been to just go the way the wave took you and make corrections in between waves. This sometimes meant I hurtled in the right direction. Other times it meant I deviated off my path. And othertimes meant I was thrown about every which way (including upside down). Sick of being skewed off course when the rudder of the Hurricane came out of the water, a comment from Amanda from a previous paddle came to mind, "try poking with the blade". Figuring it was about time I gave this a shot, on my next big wave I resolutely stuck the blade in by the side of the canoe when I felt the rudder lift out. Amazingly, instead of skewing off to the side, it went in the direction I had poked. Hurrah! With this new level of control I was much happier and continued to practice. Sometimes using the technique too much, and over correcting, or slowing the boat down too much. But other times, it let me follow the trough into the next wave and longer suuuuurrrrrrrrffffffffing... yippee.

I glanced at my watch, we'd clocked up 16kms, and I started to wonder where the landing point was. All I could see was shorebreak. Charmian was still paranoid because she hadn't seen a red buoy.

Luckily, a couple of kms later, Tom had come out to round us up like a sheep dog, looking after his flock. He led us towards what looked like a solid wall of churning water, which only after paddling in towards, were you able to discern a safe pathway through the centre. Out of the corner of her eye, Charmian saw an OC1 fly horizontally through the air as the paddler was frantically swimming out to avoid being crushed by the tube of water. Luckily he and his boat were safe, but he had just chanced the reef a little too closely.

We had made it! 19.5kms of fun - the best downwind paddle ever. 25-30kt winds survived!

Tom leading us through the break to Salt Ponds

Handbrake turn into the beach

Continuing in the Aloha spirit, we shared an entertaining ride back to our truck with two charming locals, Tom and Andy, who told us what to expect about the remainder of the race on Saturday.

Confidence lifted, and retelling moments of glory we returned to Kalapaki Beach to meet with Peter to return the Hurricane. As it turns out, Peter has raced in the Kauai Challenge every year it has run, and offered to take us to some vantage points for early on in the race so we could get our bearings and pick landmarks to look for. We piled into the dodgy Dodge and went off piste down some dirt tracks along the coastline.

Wow! If we thought what we had just achieved was big, the view we were given took our breath away. An 8-10ft harbour wall was being smashed with the waves spraying over the top. This was our "safe" harbour entry at the end of leg 1 and start of leg 2. If you were to chose the line right, you would shoot as fast as bullet from a gun to the shore. If you missed it, you'd end up shattered on the rocks.

Your partner then has to reverse the process, into the wind, swell, breaking waves and spray, whilst not being tempted to hang a right too soon for fear of sommersaulting onto the rocks as Nappy Napolean and another top female paddler did in a previous year when the conditions were similar to today.

The 'safe' harbour entry at the end of leg 1...
even our Hawaiian friend admitted it looked a little rough!
(But he was smiling)

The peaks and troughs of the day had been reflected in the peaks and troughs of our emotional stability. I feel like I need to be taking my sea-sickness pills continually. Having heard that the forecast will be slightly smaller for Saturday, we're on the way up again.

Surfers and Surf breaks (Wednesday 4 May)

We felt like real surfer chicks getting up before dawn to hit the first waves. Our super truck rolled onto the beach and we saw a lanky, tall, bronzed gentleman in his seventies proudly sporting budgee smugglers and practicing tai chi on the pier. The two of us had a bit of a giggle and Charmian alighted from the truck to greet our instructor, Ron. I was a little slower, taking a bit longer to recover from my hysteria. This was not the surf instructor I had envisaged in my dreams.

Luckily, Ron was a great teacher. He took no time in getting us out on the water and standing up on our first wave. Unsurprisingly, Charmian carved out a perfect 10 on her first attempt, gliding down the face of a small wave with ease and taking it all the way into the beach. Then it was my turn. I lay there waiting and waiting, then woosh, Ron pushed my board onto a swell. The board wobbled uncontrollably. I dragged my legs underneath myself (but slightly offcentre) into a crouch, pointed my toes in the wrong direction attempted to stand, then promptly plopped head first into the water.

At least I could improve the most! After a few more attempts, Charmian had progressed onto finding her own wave and turning, whereas I was still being reminded to keep low and point my toes out. It was hilariously fun. Ron was impressed that I could remain standing (albeit quite akwardly) whilst doing all the wrong things. Apparently I have good balance. Charmian's next trick was to walk up her board to further lengthen her experience on the wave. I was still being told to keep low and point my toes out, but at least I was standing up and "surfing".

It has to be stressed that we were on the nursery slopes of waves and not the black runs. We learnt where to stand, how to turn, and when to catch the wave. There was a surreal moment when Charmian and Ron quoted Shakespeare together. I was very confused, but was so focussed on crouching low and pointing my toes out that I let it pass.

Whilst Ron continued his day with a 2mile sand run along the beach, we decided to continue exploring the island. Surfing had made for a great start to the day, and spurred on by our newfound confidence on the water, we decided to check out the course for tomorrow's downwind race. The most obvious observation point was the Kilauae lighthouse which is also a wildlife sanctory home to Boobies, Albatross, and luckily for us today, an endangered monk seal.

The weather was blustery and rough, giving the lighthouse a desolate feel. And as we watched the dramatic, mounting whitecaps a sense of desolation began to seep into our psyche...what more were these islands going to throw at us! How were we going to take on these waves tomorrow? Telepathically, Mandy called, and calmed me with a race plan and a suggested some lookout points to go and check out the rest of the route.

Whilst I was talking to Mandy, Charmian was investigating a strange moaning, such as one may find at a haunted house. To her relief, it wasn't a phantom of the mind, but burrowing shearwaters on the cliff, birds hidden in the undergrowth, keeping clear of the buffetting 25-30kt winds. These delicate creatures somehow seemed to understand in a symbiotic way what the two of us were going through.

We continued on Mandy's suggested route along the shore road, and came across two kite surfers, turning sommersaults in the air. We stood and watched them fly on and off the waves, marvelling at their speed, skill and tricks. Hawaiian's really seem to understand how to utilise the elements.

Hopefully a little bit of their skill will have rubbed off on us, and allow us to have a great paddle tomorrow!

Surfing at Hanalei

Not quite the surf instructor I was looking for (good one Charmian)...but he was very nice, and did get us both to stand on the board as we surfed down our few few waves

A new beginning and a day of large cars (Tuesday 3 May)

A new island, and a new beginning for our trip. We flew to Kauai this morning for the second section of our time in Hawaii, leading up to the Kauai World Challenge relay race this weekend.

We were astonished to discover our cab that had been called by the hotel to take us to the airport was a white stretch limo such as you may see spewing forth celebrities out of its maw at the Oscars. It came complete with mini-bar, champagne flutes and tv. We felt a little out of place in our beach shorts and shell leis but hammed it up none-the-less.

Royal service to the airport

Our green credentials were further smashed when our nemesis, Alamo car hire, gave us a double upgrade. Instead of taking possession of our budget, economy Ford Fiesta, we found ourselves driving down the highway in a Dodge 4WD SUV, possibly the largest car on the island. We could live in it easily! Its capacious interior could house a small rhinoceros, but given we may need to transport two canoes, two amas & associated paddling gear we felt ourselves quite fortuitous.

To make the most of our dominating vehicle, we drove to the north of the island up to Hanalei Bay, hoping for a surf lesson with a gorgeous, tanned Hawaiian man. This proved harder to accomplish than originally envisaged, but Charmian has signed us up for a lesson with a salt and pepper beefcake for tomorrow morning (I get to choose our next instructor!)

Charmian in our monster car at Hanalei Bay

Starting the recovery (1st and 2nd May)

Sunday…

We left you with our hopes dashed as we headed to Oahu on our support boat. On the upside, we were able to watch the top male paddlers duke it out at the front of the pack. It was incredible to watch how relaxed they were, and how little time the ama spent in the water, but even the top paddlers have a poor change as we witnessed at one point. They appeared to dance with the water, completely in harmony, changing tempo as the waves came through, and gliding down the face with their paddles held aloft. There was nothing frenetic about it. It was probably an experience we would never have otherwise had.

Top Men duking it out across the channel

Ama flying - yeah!

Making a quick change

mmmm... nice arms

Our poor canoe on the way back to Honolulu

Back on land, we watched some of the competitors finish, and be garlanded with leis, all the while wishing that we were there to join them crossing the line. We caught up with Jim and showed him our canoe. He was very upset to hear of our misfortune, and promised to return our hire fee, offering us a paddle on his boats the next day if we wished.

It was time for a drink (or several). We started at the Pearl with the other paddlers. Word of our misfortune had spread amongst the throng and we had several offers of help for finding canoes in Kauai – one from Kai Bartlett’s Dad, Tom. Sam Williams took us around to meet the other Aussies in Hawaii, and it was nice to hear that they had done so well. It also gave us to an opportunity to meet Les Look (of Makana Ali paddles). He talked with us about the pro’s and con’s of straight shaft and double bend paddles. It made for a fascinating conversation, and we are both firmly of the opinion that we would like to paddle with one of his blades!

Time for a Mai Tai, supped reflectively on the shore of Waikiki Beach. This reflection was strangely interrupted by a call to stand to attention for the national anthem by the bar tender to celebrate the death of Osama Bin Linda. Everyone around us stood with their hand on their heart and sang some lustily, some gently, but all earnestly. After which a young gentleman, apparently serving in the armed forces, was warmly congratulated, handshake and hugged by our fellow cocktail drinkers. It was an interesting patriotic interlude, and one we could never envisage happening in Australia

Monday…

We were still feeling pretty flat after yesterday, so we spent the day wandering around in disbelief, trying to be a bit cheery. Retail therapy offered some distraction – Pokadot bikini, Surfer girl bikini, purple decorated bikini for Shell, full Xcel paddling outfits (from head to toe) for both of us, so we haven’t given up on paddling altogether.

Alex and Jane sent us a suggestion that we might rekindled our paddling delight through extreme canoe surfing down Waikiki beach. They said that whilst it sounded potentially tacky, it was incredibly fun. And it was! (Fun that is). We found ourselves hurtling down an enormous wave, and were instructed by our steerer to stand up! Wish we had a photograph to show you.

We finished the day back in the hotel with an electrical storm roaring above us that sent parts of the city into darkness, comforted by the last of Jo’s culinary treats which have been lucky to last us this long!