Last Saturday as I paddled out to Suis, I saw Professor Pauline take an overhead wave and fly through its sections like a long-legged seabird.
“Great ride!” I exclaimed.
Pauline beamed. “I was going to go in because it’s SO crowded, but I’m going back for more!”
In the lineup I counted 17 of us waiting for a few sporadic waves. We became 21 as a surf teacher with three students on longboards joined us.
Pauline caught my eye. “Laters,” she said, and headed in.
I was left among the weekend warriors — middle-age strangers, not Suis regulars. They sat there talking real estate, Fiji surf trips and ex-wives. In a sudden flurry they’d all paddle for a wave, cutting me off, only to miss it. They looked too heavy for their ultrashort boards.
Who were these guys? I was sorely tempted to yell at them to get lost, that this was my local break.
I’ve felt this way before but kept silent.
AS SURFING gets ever more popular — there were an estimated 35 million surfers worldwide in 2011, up from 26 million in 2001, according to the International Surfing Association — the waves get ever more crowded, exacerbating tensions and localism.
The surf gangs of Palos Verdes Estates, Calif., are legendary for their violence against outsiders in “their” local spots. At Suis we’ve seen a surfer in his mid-30s menace and shout at a freckled, redheaded teenager that “effing haoles” had better stop stealing Hawaiians’ waves.
We learned later that the redhead is part Hawaiian.
Localism and its delusions are explored in “Quality and the Commons: The Surf Gangs of California,” a paper by Colorado economics professor Daniel T. Kaffine, published in 2009 in the University of Chicago’s Journal of Law and Economics. It was inspired by California ecology professor Garret Hardin’s seminal article “The Tragedy of the Commons,” printed in Science magazine in 1968.
Both observe that when a free resource — whether it’s a surf break or a sheep pasture — gets too crowded, people vie to get the most out of it, ruining it for all. The professors ask whether privatization of the commons might preserve its quality.
Under Hawaii state law it’s our public right to enjoy the ocean, our commons.
But every time a hotel builds a sea wall to save its bit of beach, this alters and sometimes takes away a wave. And every beachfront homeowner who blocks access to a public right-of-way is eating away at the commons.
A 400-unit resort with a 4-acre wave pool for surfing and an “Endless Summer” theme is being planned for an as-yet-undisclosed West Oahu site. Yes, these private, perfect waves will be artificial and onshore. But there’s also a trend of closing off the real thing for the exclusive use of luxury resort guests, as seen at top Indonesian breaks.
Nearly every summer weekend, some Hawaii surf spot is closed for contests. Last year the state Department of Land and Natural Resources imposed permitting and fee requirements for near-shore commercial uses such as surf schools, citing the overcrowding that excludes local families from the waves.
DLNR’s intentions are kind, but the result is that those with money can buy their waves.
I DIDN’T yell at the weekend warriors. After all, locals at breaks from California to France have made room for me.
And we’ve made room, too.
Captain Cal has lived in the neighborhood for
40 years. When he first moved here from California, he got hazed by local big-name surfers who dropped in on him.
Today at Suis he is deferred to — a white-haired eminence who is out there every morning with a civil greeting for everyone.
The ocean seems vast but it has its limits. Respect and reciprocity might help preserve it yet.
In the Lineup” features Hawaii’s oceangoers and their regular hangouts, from the beach to the deep blue sea. It appears every other Sunday. Reach Mindy Pennybacker at mpennybacker@staradvertiser.com or call 529-4772.
