September 27, 2020
The moon is almost full, rising in late afternoon, around 4:30. M– and I checked all the south shore spots, looking for that overhead swell that was on the forecast, but found nothing. We ended up at Mahaʻulepu by 6:30 this morning, and there are certainly worse places to end up. M– mentioned that my SeaSide had inspired him enough that he bought his own. He also decided that my injury from last week is only lingering because that is life over 40. My body is still sore, has been all week, causing me to walk with a noticeable limp.
Today is the first paddle out since that spill onto the reef 8 days ago. My bottom turns were not as difficult as last week, but still not 100%. The wind was calm, the water clear and green. Dolphins frolicked on the outside and fish jumped and surfed in front of me on a few waves. Though the swell was not what we had expected, we had fun talking story and picking off some long rights. The waves were breaking much farther up the reef than normal, closer to Lihue ahead of the normal spot, causing us to take off behind the peak a few times. Eventually two guys on longboards paddled out but they mostly stayed out of the way, on the inside or really deep. That guy with his metal detector walked the shore again, as did a woman in a tiny bikini and huge backpack, dressed for a day of sunbathing but packed for a camping trip, it seemed.
After close to three hours of surf, and too much talk about the dumpster fire of 2020, we headed in and up the hill.
I wonder, if we knew what these place names meant, would they find their way into the Sad Topographies atlas of places?