The Eddie Aikau BIG WAVE Invitational (2004)

[Jurph]

http://www.quiksilver.com/eddie_aikau_04/

Huge winter swell. Twenty-foot swells get channeled by Hawai’i’s Waiamea Bay into 30- and 40-foot faces. 24 surfers from around the world get invited when ocean buoys 250 miles away detect a candidate swell (swells must be 20+ feet to qualify). This contest has only been held 7 times in the last 20 years; it’s a memorial to Eddie Aikau, the bay’s first lifeguard and direct descendent of Kahuna Nui Hewahewa, Hawai’i’s high priest during the early 1800s.

The invitational is over, but you can check out the website and watch video of some of the absolutely killer waves they got this year. If you’re having trouble imagining how big they are, look at the longboards – eight feet or so – and realize that three of them nose-to-tail might cover the face of the smallest waves out there. It’s amazing!

And of course, they’re there to remember Eddie:

@surfline biography

In 1968, Aikau left the Dole job and persuaded the Honolulu city and county to appoint him North Shore lifeguard. He was given the task of covering all beaches between Sunset and Haleiwa and saved hundreds of lives over the next three years. Hardly any official rescue reports made it back to lifeguard headquarters; Aikau was not a report writer. In 1971, the roving patrol was disbanded and Aikau was assigned to Waimea Bay, where – despite his disdain for haole[sup]1[/sup] tourists and suicidal Marines – no lives were lost while he was on duty.
[…]
When the Polynesian Voyaging Society announced it was seeking volunteers for a journey of rediscovery aboard its double-hulled replica canoe Hokule’a, Eddie leaped at the chance.

The Hokule’a trip was designed to retrace the ancient Polynesian migration passage between Hawaii and the Tahitian chain – 2,400 miles south of Honolulu. It had done a similar trip in 1976, accompanied by backup vessels; this time it would go alone. Hokule’a sailed out of the Magic Island dock on the evening of March 16, 1978, straight into a strong northeast tradewind. By midnight, tracking down the rough Molokai Channel, the canoe developed a leak in the starboard hull and eventually capsized. The crew hung on and hoped for a quick rescue, but by morning they were locked into a southerly flowing current and still being smashed by the tradewind. Aikau insisted on paddling for help – his target being the island of Lanai, 12 miles to the east – and at 10:30 a.m., Captain David Lyman relented. Aikau made a leash of nylon rope for his big rescue board and paddled off, saying: “Don’t worry, I can do it. I can get to land.” At 8:27 p.m., a Hawaiian Air jet pilot saw the canoe’s flares and strobe lights and requested aid; by midnight, most of the crew was on its way back to Honolulu.

Eddie Aikau was never found. A memorial was mounted at Waimea Bay Beach Park, and the famous invite-only Bay event held in his name waits each winter for the kind of surf he made his own.

Big surf, legendary surfers, and a story of a larger-than-life Hawaiian… what more could you want?

1. “haole” means “those who don’t breathe” and is a reference to the natives’ initial belief that the white people were pale because they were spirits or ghosts of the dead. It’s now a semi-derogatory word for a tourist or white person from off-island.