There's nothing better than an extreme adventure - 02/07/04
The tally for our Kanaha kite-boat carnage for Saturday February 7 th came to two torn designer pink bikinis $175, one bottle of benodine and one package of gauze for one very sliced toe $14, one tube of aloe and a bottle of visene for a couple of sun burnt, fair skinned, blue eyed blondes $20, the cost of a radical top to bottom off the lip in a outrigger canoe powered up by a 16 meter kite…priceless. This whole scenario began with the miraculous efforts of three amazing watermen. The first of which stabilizing a 16 meter kite while treading water, the second performing a Houdini act with the four strings attached to the very large kite while number three threw down a He-Man like strong hold on the stern not allowing any of t he forces of nature trying to waft our canoe out to sea prevail.
Along with the Northeast wind came a bit of tension, as an on-shore water start is neither easy nor predictable. Alix and I had been invited that day for a ride in this contraption that we actually knew nothing about. We were prepared for a nice afternoon cruise under the gorgeous Maui sun and ended up holding on for our dear lives for the better part of the ride. The other part was spent gathering the yard sale of paddles and hats on the inside break, dodging the inexperienced windsurfers, and scoping the seafloor for the first shark to smell our bloody wounds hoping to God that the boys have been training because catching an empty boat flying itself quickly out to sea was not going to be easy.
The actual track of events unfolded as such. Loch gives us a serious lecture on the beach about what to do if we flip and the boat comes down on top of us. “Don't worry” he says, “it's a mellow day it's not going to happen, but if it does, get away from the wreckage and fast.” Good advice we used about a half hour later. Don climbs in seat one manning the kite strings, I take seat two, Alix three, Pete takes the back steersman spot, Lock plays He-Man and Mark holds the kite stable and treads. We launch with great finesse and sail over the choppy seas. Ou r course takes us straight for the surf. I'm excited but curious as to our capabilities. I soon learn my job is to lye across the four posts positioned parallel between the amah and the canoe. My weight should be distributed to keep the amah trimming through the chop. A semi-sketchy task, but really fun. Then we jibe. With the simple action of Dons pull on the kite strings, the entire boat comes up and out of the water whipping itself 180 degrees to a slamming halt back into what is now a wave that we are riding. Amazing.
All of our combined efforts allow us to catch waves, gather speed, cut back, bottom turn, and smash the lip like you have never seen or imagined before. We loop up and through the break exploding through oncoming whitewater, jibing, dropping in and ripping. It is all very hectic, lots of orders are shouted in urgency, maneuvers are made on split second decisions, and the ability of the boys to read the surf and anticipate each others thoughts and actions make it all happen. We only flipped once. The amah can get stuck on a late, deep bottom turn on the set-up. The amah pearls and the canoe serve as a cat apult for the crew then lands on top of you. It happens so fast you barely have time to get your hands onto your head before the canoe does. The wind immediately takes the canoe, the surf takes the gear to the inside, and action must be taken quickly. Our team pulled together very nicely, and we were sailing again in a matter of 15 minutes.
There's nothing better than an extreme adventure to leave you with the many bruises as a reminder how great it is to feel alive and the satisfaction of challenge and conquer. I send my great appreciation to Don Montague for his ingenious inventions, and many thanks to the boys for their immense effort and performance and to the infamous Mother Nature for the sun, the wind, and the water to which all of our lives revolve.
Sarah Travis |
