The summer’s gotten off to a promising start, with a series of late-spring swells. Hopes for an epic season on the South Shore are high.

Unfortunately, Suis has been blown-out, bumpy and so big it’s closing out: too dangerous for me.

I was tempted by Waikiki’s smoother waves, but they were log-jammed with longboards. So, on a recent Sunday morning, I borrowed my daughter-in-law’s sleek new bodyboard and went to Walls, by the Kapahulu groin, where surfboards and SUPs are banned.

I confess. I lead a double life as a sponge.

Keiki cavorted on the inside waves, which peeled alongside the jetty from its outer end to shore. I headed for the second, farther break. Although I kicked and paddled with all my strength, the shallow reef and soft, buoyant board defied duck-diving and I kept getting washed back.

When I got finally got out past the jetty, I found a lineup populated mostly by adults, from 20-somethings to seniors. In between waves a group of women friends, their long hair, like mine, streaked with gray, discussed the pros and cons of early retirement.

Everyone was local, except for a polite Japanese tourist in a Hello Kitty rash guard on a matching pink bodyboard, and a determined man in a ninja-black wetsuit and visored helmet whose clenched face and hyper movements revealed his visitor status.

I took care to follow surf etiquette, waiting my turn. We were lined up between two tall, skinny buoys that resembled the striped topper of the Cat in the Hat; 100 yards farther out, big sets rolled into Cunhas. Hard boards are permitted there, and amid the longboards and SUPs a few paipo and bodyboarders jockeyed for position.

Sitting deepest in the peak was a pretty, broad-shouldered young woman in a skimpy bikini. She was a dolphin, kicking two-legged into waves.

“Where you been, Sister? White Plains?” a young man asked her.

“Why would I go there? I’ve been here,” she said. “Where’ve you been?”

The regulars talked story, teased and joked as if it was a backyard ohana party. Big waves bring a festive, celebratory air: A good, long ride stretches out like a processional walk and, wreathed in lei of sea spray and cheered by friends, a surfer feels the graduate’s euphoria.

A young man cried, “Go, go!” as I tried for a wave, but I missed it. An outside set rolled in, and I let Sister and Ninja go before launching myself into a late takeoff and a brief, exhilarating barrel ride before sliding off the slippery deck of my board and getting crunched.

Back outside, a skinny, elderly man asked me, “You catch a hundred waves?”

“I wish!” I said.

He stared at me.

“What school you went?”

I hesitated. I’d felt like a traitor after transferring to Punahou School, which my cousins called “the haole rich kids’ school,” from Thomas Jefferson Elementary, the public school that bakes in the sun a few blocks mauka of Walls. For all I knew, my interlocutor and others around me had gone to Punahou, too, but the thought of a mini alumni reunion in the lineup made me even more uncomfortable.

Without answering, I made a sudden exit, hurling myself onto an empty wave. This time, I managed to hang on. It was a nice, long ride that reformed into a hollow inside section. I went back out and got a couple more.

One of the gray-haired women smiled at me and introduced herself; we shook hands.

“It’s nice here,” I said. “I thought I’d be fighting for waves with kids.”

“No, they stay inside until they get good,” she said. “Old folks rule out here.”

I asked her advice. Was I sliding off my board because I’d forgotten to wear a rash guard?

“These new boards are laminated,” she said. “Did you wax it?”

I guess I’m just old-fashioned. Next time I go to Walls, I’ll just take my comfy hand-me-down Morey Boogie with its worn, sticky deck.

And if anyone asks about school, I’ll start with “Jefferson. Where you went?” And we’ll take it from there.

“In the Lineup” features Hawaii’s oceangoers and their regular hangouts, from the beach to the deep blue sea. Reach Mindy Pennybacker at mpennybacker@staradvertiser.com or call 529-4772.