Hapuna Rough Water

As we roll into the 4^th of July, having recently celebrated summer solstice, we’re still riding our KOA wave. It’s hard to put these trips into words, but you know I’ll try. Kamiah and I left Kauai in 2013, where she was a student at Koloa Early Learning. It was a sudden departure and even harsher re-entry to Montana following my separation with her mom. Since we landed back in Montana, I’ve been deliberate in keeping our Hawaii connection alive and well.

As I often share on Instagram, for ten years we’ve streamed Island Radio, daily. Every morning on our drive to school she picks one of her favorite island reggae jams. Every Sunday since returning, I play traditional Hawaiian music (the good old stuff) as I plate up a heaping belly full of gluten free chocolate chip pancakes. Our dinner time tradition of hibiscus and sea urchins recaps the good and not so good of our day.

It took us two years to get back to the islands following the divorce, but once Amanda (my wife) got her Alaska Airlines gig, we made our second week of June trip to the Big Island an annual, ritual, reunion/homecoming trip. Every year, Kamiah does her 30-day countdown, beautifully drawing something that reflects the Big Island of Hawaii, with thirty sections to mark off each day. So, it goes without saying that we look forward to this trip all winter and spring long.

When Covid hit and Amanda left Alaska Airlines—she’s now got a really good gig with another PNW brand (Lululemon)—we decided we needed to let the islands breathe (the aina, kapuna and kanaka maoli), as they were getting crushed with tourists and mainland transplants. As much as we yearned to be back, we were content honoring our rituals and keeping Hawaii alive in our day to day, giving the islands and her people the space to navigate a pandemic, with limited ICU beds and a crushing number of visitors from around the globe.

It had been four long years since we swam in the waters of Kailua Bay, since we felt the trade winds and smelled the salty air, since we rode the waves at Kua Bay; and then this spring I received a text from Uncle Mike Iosua, one of my best friends and basketball teammates from high school—one of the great Hawaiians (a former Rainbow Warrior and thriving attorney in Oahu), saying it was time to come home. When Uncle Mike speaks, we listen. So, we cashed in miles, got a screaming deal on our rental car, rebooked our same rental as every year, and balled on a budget, eating kama’aina style.

We had 101.5 KWXX going from start to finish; we caught bomb waves at Kamiah’s favorite beach; we swam miles of open water and put in work at our favorite aquatic center on the planet; we snorkeled, watched lava flow, celebrated each sunset, ate Scandy shave ice, said so many power prayers and made our pre swim offerings. So many things had to come together to pull this one off and once on island, everything came so easy, so naturally, so rhythmically.

Rituals and Routines

When we’re on the Big Island, it’s like groundhogs’ day on repeat. We wake up every morning and head down to Da Pier aka Dig Me Beach, the start of the Ironman swim course and we check out the conditions. If it’s swimmable, we dive in. If it’s too rough, we head to the aquatic center. This trip, we split our swims between open water and Kona Aquatic Center. We put in a really strong and special three-day weekend with two early morning trips to the Kings Buoy with the Hapuna Rough Water race sandwiched between. We even got an escort from my wife Amanda out to the Kings Buoy one morning, so for the first time, after years of swimming this course, we have some pictures for the scrapbook.

I don’t know that there’s ever one highlight for a trip like this, but if there was, it had to be the Hapuna Rough Water. While I knew of the event, it wasn’t until 5 pm the night before, on King Kamehameha Day that I realized the event (the middle swim in the Triple Crown of Open Water Swims on the Big Island) was happening the following morning. I knew it was a long shot as the race registration had ended a few days earlier, but I shot the race organizer an email, I messaged their Instagram account and I hoped there was a small chance that we might still be able to get in.

I felt like a little kid on Christmas when  I received a response from Dave Gibson (on a holiday Saturday evening) within five minutes of shooting out my email, asking about the possibility of a late entry. With grace and goodness, Dave told us to show up at 7 am the following morning, and that they’d get us in. The hype was so high at Casa De Emdeko that night. He just made our trip.

I don’t know that there’s ever one highlight for a trip like this, but if there was, it had to be the Hapuna Rough Water. While I knew of the event, it wasn’t until 5 pm the night before, on King Kamehameha Day that I realized the event (the middle swim in the <a href=”https://oceanswimhawaii.com/”>Triple Crown of Open Water Swims on the Big Island</a>) was happening the following morning. I knew it was a long shot as the race registration had ended a few days earlier, but I shot the race organizer an email, I messaged their Instagram account and I hoped there was a small chance that we might still be able to get in. These daddy/daughter open waters swims have become one of the most special things we all share. Amanda, while not in the water, is always such a big part of these excursions/events, even when she’s unable to attend. You see, I’ve got a couple of disabilities and my legs don’t work like the once did. Beyond a crazy rare clotting disorder and chronic migraine (chronic migraine is a crippling disability at times), I have an auto-immune disorder called ankylosing spondylitis.

Between my poorly shaped hips, all of the wear and tear of a basketball career, followed by a decade of guiding and rangering in Yellowstone National Park, and in 2013, I took up swimming, in the midst of one of my many achilles flares (I’ve long struggled with tendinopathies and overuse injuries). So, I’ve been forced to adapt. For me it’s the water, the bike and the weight room. This means I don’t get to take long walks into the backcountry of Yellowstone National Park, or climb peaks in the Absarokas and Tetons, or ski the powdery slopes of Bridger Bowl with my daughter. So, we ride, we lift and we swim together.

 

And of all the ways we move and explore together, our open water adventures are perhaps the most meaningful of outdoor pursuits. There’s just something special about water, swimming, and competing in open water. We’ve built a pretty extensive resume of open water events over the last five+ years, since she was 10 years old and we took on our first Coeur d’ Alane Crossing, but something about this wildcard entry into the Hapuna Rough Water felt like we had just won the open water lottery.

Hapuna Rough Water

The energy was palpable when we arrived at the Hapuna Beach parking lot. After making the short walk down to the beach, we hit the tent and had our numbers written on our arms, our caps, and our kits ready for what was about to go down.

With somewhere around 300 swimmers, it was going to be a chaotic start and with four buoys on course to turn at, there was sure to be some scrambling going on. After a short warm-up, power prayer and forehead to forehead embrace, we gave Amanda a hug and hit the water for the start. Kamiah was off and going for it from the start. I was in the middle of the pack, in it to swim it and hoping for a decent time.

It’s funny, because as I’m sitting here writing this, two days after competing in the Big Sky State Games Open Water race at Lake Elmo in Billings, MT, where the water was murky and cloudy, I can’t help but smile thinking about the conditions at the start of the Hapuna Rough Water. Clear, cool, calm waters greeted us to the first buoy. As we got further out on the long swim from buoy one to buoy two, the waves started kicking up a bit and the water clarity began to deteriorate somewhat, but it was still a splendid swim and experience all around.

I finished in just under 33 minutes and Kamiah came in at 24 and some change. I was really happy with my middle of the pack finish at this event and I could see that the stoke was high for Kamiah. She went for it and went big. In a stacked field of local, kama’aina strong swimmers, out of around 130 females, she took a top ten, and in her age group, she took 2^nd overall. As a performance coach, I’m a big proponent that we can’t let our results define the experience and we have to learn to loosen the grip on how we let results define in any way, our sense of self, which is easy to say and hard to do, especially for young athletes. With that said, I’m also a big believer that when wins come, they are worth celebrating, as are the wins within a race that doesn’t go as we hoped. Needless to say, we celebrated big the rest of the day, catching waves on our boards at Hapuna Beach.

These swims always leave me feeling humbled, energized and grateful.

Ahui hou

The day after the Hapuna Rough Water, we got up early and hit Da Pier for one more swim out to the Kings Buoy, this time, escorted by Amanda. It’s always like swimming in an aquarium, clear, vibrant and full of fish. I’m so grateful for our connection to this place and to share it with these two. Aloha aina.

The last day on island always stirs up a range of emotions. Gratitude for the experience. Sadness to be leaving. So many parts are triggered, but we do our best to stay locked in, intentional, grounded and focused on how grateful we are to be guests on this island we love. As always, our A’hui hou day was filled with abundance, bomb waves, a strong swim, cold brew, prayers and lots of love.

And to Dave Gibson–a big mahalo nui loa for letting us in. These folks from the Kona Aquatic Club really know how to put on and pull off a special event, and they understand the importance of a good emcee/race announcer.

A’hui Big Island. A’hui hou.

WNbL, mwl