My husband, an early riser, usually greets me with a cheerful “Good morning!” but his first words on Aug. 22 were a gloomy “Mindy, looks like we’re in for it.” Hurricane Lane was now a Category 5 storm and making a beeline for Oahu.
We photographed the exterior and interior of our house, as the disaster expert on the TV news had advised, for insurance purposes in case of storm damage. Then I set off to check the surf, pausing to chat with our neighbor Penelope, who was photographing her own house.
I confessed I was nervous.
“You can’t dodge ’em all,” she said with a cheerful smile.
I wondered if we could dodge our next-door neighbor’s 160-foot Cook pine.
Penelope, a mathematician and gardener, gazed up at the tree. “Nope, it’s not going to fall on your house — it’s leaning the other way, the direction the southeast winds will push it.”
As I continued down the hill she called after me, “If there’s anything you need, just let us know.” I thanked her, remembering all the fruit from our yards we’ve exchanged over the years, and her generosity with her homemade chutneys, jams and breads.
Francois came striding up the street. “The surf looks good! Small but smooth,” he said. “See you later — if we survive!” he added with a laugh.
Boogie Pete pulled up. He’s usually in the water by 5:30 a.m., but today he’d stopped at the market for cans of Spam and Vienna sausages. “Let’s go!” he said. “Might be our last chance for a while.”
Out at Suis there were only three of us in the small, smooth waves.
“I was alone yesterday, and Kaiwi swam over and floated here for a while,” Pete said, referring to the monk seal who’d recently been resting onshore. “But even he went in, it was so junk!”
A shoal of clouds slowly approached. “Do you think that’s the outer edge of the storm?” Pete asked.
I said I hoped not. Farther out, there was a glittering splash and the arc of a finned back: a pod of dolphins, heading south.
As always, the sight of these wild, free creatures filled me with joy.
THURSDAY WAS grayer, windier, with big, messy waves, but surfers at Suis were getting rides. “It’s fun to watch guys who know what they’re doing, but I went out in the Hector swell and kinda got tossed around,” said Andree, sitting on a picnic table in Makalei Beach Park.
“It’s better than it looks,” bodyboarder Scottie said, shaking water from his long white hair.
Keenan, a junior at ‘Iolani, grinned, enjoying the day off from school. “It was fun.”
Later, in Waikiki, crowds of locals were catching waves and throngs of tourists bobbed in the ocean despite the hurricane warning. “My team and I are very concerned,” said South Shore lifeguard captain Paul Moreno at Sans Souci Beach. “The storm surge is increasing.” Beaches were closed, but visitors, he said, went swimming anyway, not understanding the power of the Hawaiian waves and treacherous currents.
When I asked about the crowds of youngsters swimming and bodyboarding at Walls, Moreno shrugged. “I don’t worry about the local kids,” he said.
ON FRIDAY I walked along the sea wall, where big black crabs were clambering up and away from the ocean onto the massive stone walls of the waterfront mansions. I continued up the Diamond Head cliff road; near the lighthouse, policemen peered over the wall at tents pitched deep in the underbrush.
An elderly man rested on the wall with his backpack and bulging plastic bags beside him. I thought he was heading for shelter, but on my way back I saw him sitting under the naupaka hedge on an otherwise deserted Makalei Beach.
“There’s a storm coming,” I told him, pointing out to sea. “It’s not safe on the beach.”
He frowned at me. “I think I heard something. I been here 52 years,” he said, and turned away.
A couple hours later, when the warning was lifted, I thought of him and of the dolphins I’d glimpsed two days before, swimming in the direction of the storm.
“In the Lineup” features Hawaii’s oceangoers and their regular hangouts, from the beach to the deep blue sea. Reach Mindy Pennybacker at 529-4772 or mpennybacker@staradvertiser.com.
