Barbarian Days

1. Culture Shock and Finding Belonging in Hawaii

What was true was that haoles (white people; I was one of them) were a tiny and unpopular minority at Kaimuki.

Sudden displacement. Moving to Honolulu in the eighth grade brought immediate culture shock, particularly at Kaimuki Intermediate School, where the author was a distinct minority among Hawaiian and Asian students. This racialized environment, unlike the segregated California suburbs, was initially unnerving and isolating. Bullies, including the relentless Freitas, added to the difficulty.

Navigating a new social landscape. School life became dominated by navigating racial dynamics and physical confrontations, often arranged and refereed by local groups like the Freitas clan. The academic classes, primarily with Japanese girls, felt separate and unengaging. A surprising rescue came from the "In Crowd," a local haole gang, which offered protection and an informal education in the island's racial setup, despite their own problematic views.

Finding connection through surfing. In stark contrast to the tensions at school, the local surf spot, Cliffs, offered a sense of ease and acceptance. The author, initially the only haole in the water, found a welcoming community among the regular surfers, particularly Roddy Kaulukukui and his family. This shared passion for the ocean provided a vital escape and a path to genuine friendship across ethnic lines.

2. Surfing as Refuge and a World Apart

It was the opposite of my life at school.

Ocean as sanctuary. The sea off Diamond Head, particularly the complex reef break at Cliffs, became a sanctuary from the difficulties of school and the awkwardness of adolescence. While school was marked by loneliness, racial tension, and physical threats, the water offered freedom, exploration, and a sense of belonging among fellow surfers.

Learning the language of waves. Mastering a new surf spot like Cliffs required intense observation and adaptation, different from the familiar California breaks. The constantly changing conditions, influenced by wind, tide, and swell direction, demanded constant attention and learning. This deep engagement with the ocean's moods provided a consuming focus.

A private, elemental world. Surfing existed as a world separate from family and school life. It involved facing elemental forces and personal fears, often alone. This private, sometimes terrifying, relationship with the ocean filled a void left by questioning religious beliefs and drifting away from family, becoming a source of deep, inexplicable compulsion and mystery.

3. The Shortboard Revolution Changes the Game

Nothing was the same afterward.

A new era of surfing. Witnessing Bob McTavish's radical performance on a short, V-bottom board at Rincon in 1968 marked the beginning of the shortboard revolution. This innovation dramatically changed surfboard design and the very style of surfing, emphasizing speed, maneuverability, and vertical turns over traditional longboard techniques like nose-riding.

Rapid adoption and cultural shift. The new designs, emanating from Australia and Hawaii, were quickly adopted globally, particularly in California, the sport's capital. Surfing became faster, more dynamic, and focused on riding closer to the breaking part of the wave, especially seeking tube rides. This shift coincided with the broader countercultural movements of the late 1960s, aligning surfing with a spirit of rebellion and change.

Leaving the old ways behind. The author, at fifteen, was at an ideal age to transition to shortboards, finding them suited to his build and the new style. This meant leaving behind older boards and techniques, like the drop-knee cutback, which felt increasingly obsolete. The focus shifted from cruising to navigating hollow, powerful waves, often in crowded lineups, demanding new skills and a higher tolerance for risk.

4. The Search for Uncrowded Waves Begins

To search the South Seas for ridable waves, I needed a partner.

Beyond the known breaks. Driven by a desire for adventure and uncrowded waves, the author embarked on an open-ended surf trip to the South Pacific in 1978, leaving behind a stable job and life in California. This quest was fueled by surf magazine fantasies and a yearning to explore remote, potentially unsurfed coasts, relying on nautical charts and guesswork.

Partnership in the unknown. The journey required a partner, found in Bryan Di Salvatore, a friend from Maui who shared a similar adventurous spirit and disdain for the conventional. Their collaboration involved navigating unfamiliar cultures, difficult travel, and the challenges of finding and figuring out waves in isolated locations, developing a unique bond and even a secret language (Spanish).

The elusive perfect wave. The search involved exploring islands like Western Samoa, Tonga, and Fiji, facing unpredictable conditions, difficult shorelines, and the constant challenge of reading unmapped reefs. While many spots were disappointing or treacherous, the process of discovery itself, and the shared experience of navigating the unknown, became central to the journey, culminating in the eventual, momentous discovery of Tavarua.

5. The Paradox of Paradise and its Costs

Being rich white Americans in dirt-poor places where many people, especially the young, yearned openly for the life, the comforts, the very opportunities that we, at least for the seemingly endless moment, had turned our backs on—well, it would simply never be okay.

The reality of the "Asia Trail". Traveling through Southeast Asia, particularly Indonesia, revealed a complex reality far from the idealized surf paradise. The collision of Western tourism with local poverty was stark, and the travelers themselves, despite their limited budgets, represented immense wealth and privilege compared to the local populations. This created an inescapable moral tension.

Challenges beyond the surf. The journey was marked by constant difficulties:

• Overcrowded and uncomfortable travel
• Haggling and cultural misunderstandings
• Health issues like malaria and paratyphoid
• Encounters with crime and corruption

The cost of the quest. The pursuit of waves came at a personal cost, straining relationships, leading to financial precarity, and forcing difficult ethical compromises, such as defrauding American Express to cover medical bills. The romantic ideal of the "traveler" clashed with the harsh realities of navigating a complex, often difficult world.

6. Australia: A Different Kind of Surf Culture

Australia was easily the most democratic country I had encountered.

A mainstream surf scene. Arriving in Australia revealed a surf culture vastly different from the countercultural, outlaw image in the US. Surfing was mainstream, organized with clubs, contests, and well-marked beaches, reflecting a more democratic and less rebellious national character.

Work and surf balance. The author and Bryan found work in the service industry, experiencing a strong sense of working-class dignity and camaraderie, particularly among fellow "dixie bashers" at the casino. This provided a base for surfing the famous Gold Coast pointbreaks, which were challenging due to crowds and intense competition.

Navigating local dynamics. The Australian surf scene was highly competitive, with a clear pecking order and localism. Expats had to earn their place in the lineup. The experience highlighted the contrast between the idealized, empty waves of the South Pacific search and the reality of sharing world-class breaks with a large, skilled, and sometimes unwelcoming local population.

7. Facing Fear and Limits in Big Waves

This conviction was a first for me.

The ocean's power. Surfing, particularly in larger waves, constantly presented a "fear line" that distinguished it from other activities. The ocean was a dynamic, indifferent force, capable of inflicting severe punishment. Facing this power required knowing one's limits, both physical and emotional, and staying calm in perilous situations.

Testing the boundaries. Pushing the limits was essential for growth, but failure could be terrifying. Early experiences in Hawaii, like the terrifying session at Rice Bowl, instilled a deep respect for the ocean's potential for violence and the very real possibility of drowning.

The psychological toll. Big waves were not just a physical challenge but a psychological one, inducing nausea, panic, and a sense of being overwhelmed. The memory of near-drownings and severe beatings, like the one at Sunset Beach, left lasting impressions and underscored the inherent danger and the need for both skill and luck to survive.

8. Surfing as a Lifelong, Obsessive Pursuit

Surfing was an antidote, however mild, for the horror.

A persistent compulsion. Despite periods of focusing on other aspects of life, surfing remained a powerful, almost involuntary compulsion. It provided a unique blend of physical exertion, mental focus, and connection to nature that was deeply satisfying and often served as an escape or antidote to the stresses and horrors encountered in other parts of life, such as war reporting.

The pursuit of mastery. The dedication to surfing involved a continuous effort to understand and master the complexities of different waves and conditions. This required diligent study, physical training, and a willingness to push personal boundaries, even as physical abilities declined with age.

A unique form of engagement. Surfing offered a profound absorption in the present moment and a connection to elemental forces. It was a practice that, while often solitary, also fostered unique bonds and a shared, esoteric language among those who dedicated themselves to it, creating a distinct community and way of seeing the world.

9. The Tension Between Surfing and "Real Life"

I was reluctant to think of it as part of my real life as an adult, which I was now busy trying to kick-start.

Conflicting priorities. As the author entered adulthood, the demands of building a career, maintaining relationships, and engaging with the wider world often clashed with the all-consuming nature of surfing. The sport, with its unpredictable schedule dictated by swells, required a level of flexibility and dedication that was difficult to reconcile with conventional responsibilities.

The pull of the "path". Surfing, for some, was seen not just as a hobby but as a "path," demanding a singular focus that could lead away from traditional markers of success and stability. This created an internal conflict between the desire for a conventional, productive life and the powerful pull of the surfing lifestyle, which often involved itinerancy and a rejection of mainstream values.

Seeking balance. The struggle to balance surfing with other aspects of life was ongoing. While periods of intense travel and wave chasing were punctuated by efforts to establish a career and relationships, the fundamental tension remained. Surfing represented a part of the self that resisted domestication and conventionality.

10. The Unmapped World and the Act of Witnessing

This was what I was chasing: not the exotic, but a broad-beamed understanding of what is what.

Beyond the tourist gaze. The extensive travels, particularly in the South Pacific and Asia, were driven by a desire to see the world beyond the surface-level experience of tourism. This involved seeking out remote locations, living among local communities, and attempting to understand different ways of life, often in places untouched by mainstream global narratives.

Encountering complexity and contradiction. The journey revealed worlds far more complex and contradictory than idealized notions of paradise or simple narratives of oppression. Encounters with diverse cultures, political realities, and individual stories challenged preconceived notions and fostered a deeper, albeit often unsettling, understanding of the human condition.

The act of observation. The experience of being a stranger and an observer in these unmapped or poorly understood worlds became central to the author's perspective. This involved paying close attention to details, listening to stories, and attempting to make sense of unfamiliar social dynamics, laying the groundwork for a career in journalism focused on understanding complex realities.

11. Relationships Tested by the Search

Separation is a bitch.

Strain of distance and difference. The nomadic lifestyle and the all-consuming nature of the surf search placed significant strain on personal relationships. Long periods of separation, differing priorities, and the challenges of integrating partners into a life centered around chasing waves often led to conflict and eventual dissolution.

The challenge of shared worlds. While some relationships were built on shared interests and values, the unique demands of the surfing life, particularly the willingness to embrace uncertainty and discomfort, were not always compatible with a partner's needs or desires. This highlighted the difficulty of truly merging lives when one partner was driven by such an unconventional passion.

Lasting impact. Despite the difficulties and breakups, these relationships left a lasting impact, shaping the author's emotional landscape and providing moments of connection and support amidst the solitude of the journey. The experiences underscored the complex interplay between personal ambition, the pursuit of passion, and the challenges of building and maintaining intimacy.

12. Aging and the Changing Relationship with Surfing

I was losing my quickness, my strength, my nerve.

Physical decline. As the author aged, the physical demands of surfing, particularly in challenging waves, became increasingly apparent. Loss of quickness, strength, and nerve made navigating difficult conditions harder and more dangerous, leading to more mistakes and injuries.

Adapting to limits. The experience of aging as a surfer involved confronting physical limitations and adapting one's approach. While the desire to ride powerful waves remained, the ability to do so diminished, leading to a shift in focus or a reluctant acceptance of surfing smaller, less demanding waves.

A persistent connection. Despite the physical challenges and the changing nature of the experience, the fundamental connection to surfing endured. It remained a source of both frustration and profound satisfaction, a practice deeply woven into the fabric of identity, even as the body and the world around it changed.

Last updated: June 13, 2025