How Little I Knew

Shoot or shucks!  Mother fucker.  I'm pissed and this ain't England.  I created a site, expecting questions and that I would hopefully be able to provide answers to the questions that were never asked!  I'm not sure if anyboody has read anything I've written or cares?  I know I don't.  I combined a bunch of sails and entertwined them within real experience and dreans of many years.  I have had the opportunity to sail on many boats to many places,  I haven't even begun to share with a half way listening audience anything other than the barest neccessities of any information that you might wish to acquire without going through the experience yourself?  So-vicariously you read or think that you just might sail far off a coastline?  Forget it!
     You can dream.  A dream isn't-- once it has been fulfilled!  Faith realized falls by the wayside.  Where is hope, when it has been fulfilled, witnessed, experienced?  So, a sailboat sails with wind and tide. Does this vessel hope, wish, have faith, that it just might reach it's destination?  Most assuridly!  Not the vessel but....
the crew and passengers would love to not be tossed into the water!  \
     I don't miss being a thousand miles from anywhere as much as I miss taking off on a Hawaiian wave at 12+........That is something to be experienced!  Take off and then turn, maybe!  If you can make the turn, you just might make the wave.......I've made many and have missed many.  I really do not wish any human to go over the falls on a Hawaiian wave.  It is always life threatening and terribly frightening but when you are in the water we have a way of becoming water.  This is what saves crashed surfers! 
     I would much rather crash on take-off than be killed by trying to bust through an outside set!  That's the nub.  Do I sit inside and catch a lot of waves/or do I sit way outside/allday/waiting for that one big ass son of a bitch that Ralph has been waiting all day for? NO!   He can have it!  I don't want that!  I'm inside, 8+ and just every now and then 12' cleans me and Ambrose's clock!  But shit!  Jim Pollock, me and Ambrose Curry caught 20 waves to Ralph's one.  His was big but intersections at 8' goes through the bowl at Hanalei! 
   To me.........This is how I see it.  I'm to skinny to wait for a wave.  I got to keep moving!  Surf City, U.S.A!  I haven't even begun to tell you how much it cost my friends to dedicate their lives to the ocean!   We should start at Razor Reef!  Heh!  For the knowing!!! 

Razor Reef

     Who even know where it is or what it could mean?  A very small lagoon?  Nay, a tidepool.  Across the street from my house, for a time.  That ancient era is bygone and yet the memory still refreashes and instills
a radiant peace, tangible, touchable with it's substance.
     Is it the days and hours spent witnessing God's pryrotechnical explosive tropical sunrise and sunsets by myself and with only a few real friends?  Even cameras not able to properly capture the overlapping and ever changing kaleidoscopic pastels generated by sun rays dancing with cotton candy clouds, shimmering emerald green waters and a forever sky dipped in plumeria?  Changing moment to moment, like waves, traveling so far to fall and break on a foriegn shore, unique.  Manifesting itself and then returning into what it has always been and always will be.
     How many times and with how very few did we ride that silly little nothing wave laughing as our fins hit the reef, knowing it wasn't even a ridable wave but riding it anyway and in the doing both were defined.  We made it surf and performed and Razor Reef joyously conformed.  The tidepool and the surfer smiled together as if at a private joke!
     Was it because the teeth the reef revealed as Waimea Bay's back door during winter's swells was so majestic with upside down waterfalls. explosions with sound, water reaching heavenward then falling;  raw, natural power not allowing all the ocean to return to her body, suspending her in the air to breath, taste and smell?  To know her intimately.  To become one with her.  To submerge!
     From snorkeling the Razor, her cooling me off on those lazy, hot, intoxicating summer daze, I can see her bottom as if it were yesterday.  How many moods have I seen her display?  How many ways have I made love with her?  Does she remember me?  Yes, I believe she does.  Who could forget?