KKs Vacay: Surfing Puena Point and Meeting JOB 120713

Surf Report: Overhead++
Water: Warm
Winds: Off shore
 Atmosphere: Sunny with patchy clouds

Cassandra, Alex and I pile into my rental and head off to the West side.  We stop off at the local shop to pick up some water and snacks and get on the H1 freeway.  Tunes are jamming, and we tell each other stories and jokes the whole time.

"So there was this girl that had a seizure in the midst of giving head to her boyfriend and bit his dick off," Cass says.

"WHAT??"

"Yea, so she went into shock, and her teeth clamped down, and her boyfriend couldn't wrench out his dick from her teeth, so he had his dick bitten off."

"Hash tag dick bitten off," I say.

As we make our way to the West side... we see a familiar scene.  The swell isn't hitting the West side again.  It's pretty flat every where.  It was maaaaaaybe two feet on the face.  We pull into an empty parking lot, and contemplate our move. Paddle out? Or drive back to the North Shore?

"Let's go to the North Shore," I say.

And so, off to Haleiwa we went.

As we pulled into Haleiwa, the whole parking lot is PACKED.  It's insane.  We find a parking spot as Alex goes to pee.  I go to see the break, and there are legit overhead waves rolling through perfectly through the point all the way to the Toilet Bowl section.  First wave, a braddah takes off behind the peak, double bottom turns and makes it around the section.  He then blasts the lip and shreds the rest of the wave.  The next wave, another local braddah takes off behind the peak, and shreds the shit out of it.  The next wave, another local braddah... on and on and on.

The walk to Puena Point, with Alex's sexy butt leading the way

"There's no way we can compete with that.  We're not going to get any waves.  It's all the locals out there right now," I say.

"We can try Puena Point, it's more for kooks, but we might be able to get some waves there," Alex says.  "It's right over there where we drove past to get to Haleiwa."

Cass

We pull into a crowded parking lot at Puena Point.  Cass offers to drive around to find parking so Alex and I could see the waves if it's worth paddling out.  We walk through a small passage full of palm trees and get to the paddle out spot.  There are a bunch of surf schools teaching people to surf on the inside, and on the waaaaay outside, we can see overhead sets rolling through the point.  The rights look fast and shallow, while the lefts look long and shreddable.

"I'm sold," I say.  "Let's paddle out here."

"How's it looking boys?" Cass says from behind.

"Oh shit, you found parking?" Alex asks.

"Yea, found parking, so are we paddling out here?"

"Yea, let's go for it."

We all get changed and grab our boards.  I brought over Pat's Nezzy board, the biggest and juiciest board in my quiver for the North Shore.  It's a 6'3" x 19 1/2 x 2 5/8 behemoth with a pin tail.  Cass is on her longboard 2+1 set up, and Alex is on the soft top once again. As we walk towards the path, there's a man in a raised yellow Jeep, blasting loud house music.  There is a house in the Dojo that has a similar car like that, so Alex asks the owner if he lived in Town.  He said no, as he stuffed his face with poke.  He wished us good luck as he jammed to his house music. 

The Emergence of the Soft Top Bandit

This session was quite difficult for me.  I set my "limit" on paddling out to 5 or 6 feet on the face because of my shoulder injury.  Legit overhead waves meant 7 to 8 feet on the face today.  Not only that, the place was crowded as hell.  I didn't catch one single wave until the very end because either an Uncle or a local was already on it, or that I would be hitting someone as I took off.

Cass took off on three waves.  On all three waves, she snaked someone.  She was a bit unsure if that was ok, but I reassured her that she has a cute bikini on, and so the view from behind would be a pleasure if she dropped in on someone.

Alex was straight CHARGING.  He was taking off deep on the set waves on his foamie.  He took pretty much every wave that rolled through his way.  He went both left and right, making every drop and every wave.  It was pretty hardcore.  I couldn't believe it. No one in the line up could believe it.

I got one final wave where I played dodgeball on my take off.  I look up to bottom turn, and see the section closing out ahead of me, so I straighten out.  I signal to Cass that I was out.

I paddle in to the shore and wait for Cass and Alex.  Cass comes in, and realizes a huge gash on her board.  She felt really bad and apologetic towards Alex, who brushed it off as if it was nothing.

"Better the board than you, Cass," I told her.

"That's right," Alex said.

The old dude in the yellow Jeep was still there, jamming out to house music.  There was another car, blasting Jawaiian music, as if competing for air space.

"Where should we go eat?"

"Wanna try Pupukea grill?"

"Yea, I'm down, let's go there," I replied.  

And so, off to Shark's Cove we went.  Pupukea Grill is a food truck located right by the Shark's Cove.  It's a mainstay of the North Shore with delicious, healthy food.  We pull up next to the gas station where the Pupukea Grill is located, and can't find parking.  So, I just park on the side of the road next to the mailbox of the gas station.

We get in line as we look at the menu, and I see a few cameramen following a blind guy.  He has a yellow stick, and immediately I know it's Derek, the blind Brazilian surfer.  So, I go up to him and his posse, and introduce myself.  I say in Portuguese, "Obrigado por inspiracion," (Thank you for the inspiration,) and he gives a big smile and shakes my hand.  The camera crew is smiling too, asking how I know about his story.  I tell him that I saw a video of him with Makua Rothman surfing Pipe, and that he's such an inspiration.  They tell me to check out the movie they are making of him called Beyond Sight.  I told them I will check it out, and to keep up the great work.

As we waited for our food, Alex hands me a Free Surf magazine.  We flip through the pages as we see all the amazing photography done by the big names like Bielmann, DJ Struntz, Jeff Divine, and Zak Noyle.

I sit down and order a salad and coconut curry quinoa dish, along with an Acai smoothie.  I needed the salad since I've been eating pretty much anything but greens, and I needed to feel human again.  All the good eats has made me shit liquids, and so it felt good to have green fiber in my stomach again. 

We all finish our meal, and head back to the car.

"Hey, that was Jamie O'Brien," Alex turns around and says to me.

WHAT

I swing around and see a tall dude with a Red Bull hat on, and the raised truck on 4x4's that I've seen countless times.  It's fucking J.O.B.!!

If you don't know this, I am a HUUUUUGE fan of JOB.  I love his surfing at Pipe.  He was one of the first surfers to win a Pipe Masters who only specialized in surfing Pipeline.  He goes switch foot in the barrel there, and has some of the heaviest waves of the winter every year.  On top of that, he shares my birthday of June 9th.

I tell Cass and Alex, "Guys, I have to go, I need to get his autograph!"

"Go! Do it!" they said.

So, I go back to the Pupukea Grill and smile at the people waiting in line.  My heart beat is racing but I keep it cool.  The cash register lady is taking out the trash, and replacing the garbage bag.  I patiently wait for her to finish.  My heart is thumping.  She returns to her register, and asks, "May I help you?" to me.

"Yes, may I borrow a pen please?" I ask eagerly.

"A pen? Sure," she replies.

She hands me a ball point pen, and I turn to JOB.

"Hey, Jamie, I'm a huge fan of yours," I say as I extend my hand towards him.

"Oh yea?  Sick man!  Hows it going?"

"Good, thank you.  Would you mind signing this please?" 

"Oh yea, of course!  What's your name?"

"Klaude, we share the same birthday.  We're both 69'ers." I reply.

He laughs at my 69er comment.  "Sick Klaude, did you surf Pipe today?"

"Hell no, that place is waaaaay out of my ability," I reply.  He's signing it.  He's really fucking signing it!!

"Well, you gonna come watch tomorrow right?"

"Yea, I will.  And look, I know you're not surfing in the competition because of the whole Ricardo Dos Santos thing, but I hope to see you free surf," I say.

He grins and hands me back the magazine.  "Here you go man, hope to see you there!"

"Thanks!"


He was genuinely stoked to give me an autograph.  Not only that, he wrote me a little message too: "Keep it real."

The four average looking girls flash a wide smile at me, as if to say, "Oh my god!! The guy we are with is really a famous professional surfer!! HE'S FAMOUS!"

We call them Pro-Hoes.

The reason why JOB can't surf in the Pipe Masters is because he punched a surfer during a competition at Tahiti.  The ASP barred his entry to the Pipe Masters even though he's one of, if not THE, best surfer out there.

Back at the car, Cass and Alex give me props for going up to JOB and getting his autograph.  I felt content, even though I didn't catch that many waves.  We make our way back into Town.  Alex knocks the fuck out in the passenger seat, so Cass and I talk on the way home.  We talk about careers and jobs, and how it's hard to find people who are driven in life.  I reassure her that she will find her niche, or group of friends, that she shares the same drive with, and sometimes, you have to cut out people who don't share that from your close circle of friends.  "What you seek is seeking you," I tell her. 

We get back in the afternoon, and we chill for a while.  Cass and Alex spend some quality time together, and are doing their thing.

The rest of the Dojo and I go off to Sandy's.  We body surf playful waves and come home.  The night is already dark, and I pop in Django Unchained.  I can hear from Alex's room that Cass and him are getting it on, so I turn up the volume.

"What do you want to do at your last night at the Dojo?" Kev asked.

"Actually, I wanted to just chill.  I'm pretty tired, and I want to go to the North Shore tomorrow to watch the opening rounds of the Pipe Masters," I replied.

"Freeaaaal.  Well if that's what you wanna do, then that's cool too," B-sauce said.

Later that night, I met up with Aiko-chan, a friend of ours from Los Angeles who moved back to Japan.  She was also participating in the Honolulu marathon, and flew in from Japan.  We meet up at her hotel lobby and walk around Ala Moana mall.  We catch up since we haven't seen each other since my sister's wedding in June.

The Dojo was quiet that night... The Boys respected my wishes of a quiet night and kept the living room empty and all did their own thing.  B-Sauce went to a birthday party, and so I didn't see him all night.

The sound of the water trickling down the turtle pond in our neighbor's property lulled me to sleep, as I tried to sleep... in anticipation of watching the Pipeline Masters live and direct for the first time in my life.

Aiko-chan and me, night before she runs for the Honolulu Marathon