Hilo Race Report
michael.medler@…
01/07/17 #20436
Race Report:
Hawaii Island Paddlers Association
Stan Cann Classic, Hilo, Jan 7th.
As I have been enjoying some time in Hilo, I thought it best to send some vicarious island warmth to all you PNW paddlers.
Other Whatcom Paddlers were in short supply for this year's 30th running of the Stan Cann Classic, which opened the paddle season on the Big Island. I arrived several weeks early to begin scouting the course and training for the conditions. Zsolt hooked me up with a V8 Pro, which I cannot recommend enough for mainlanders looking to get onto the actual ocean for the first time. Granted I am very tippy, but I would actually have pooped all over myself if I had been in my beloved V10 the first time I hit 10 foot ground swell. There were also wind waves and crazy reflection coming fast from two other directions as the water dropped out from under me in 100 acre sections of swell. The V8 Pro makes it all OK.
The locals have been very nice. After they learn I am from the mainland they immediately ask if I know Al Lipp. However, they have an unnerving practice of telling you to watch out for all the damn whales, or all the damn hammerheads, without any real expansion on what exactly I am supposed to look out for, and what exactly those creatures will do if I don't “watch out” for them.
I do not believe there is a single PFD in the state. They seem to be about as popular as Italian seat belts. However, as anyone will tell you, you can float in the water for a couple days out here, just watch out for all the damned whales and hammerheads.
A week before the race, some local OC fellows showed me around a bit and took me to Alan's 1/2 mile long rideable wave that shows up sometimes inside Hilo Bay. It was transcendent. Fast rides on a single smooth shiny wave for uncountable numbers of Lipp units. I can't recommend it enough.
Several days later I headed back to that same spot despite the high surf warnings after playing in big rollers just outside the bay. The smart thing to do would have been to take off my leash, but I was with a local OC dude and we were suddenly on a great ride about a 1/4 mile further out than we expected. We started on a 6 foot swell that just kept getting bigger and faster. As we approached the surf zone we were supposed to duck out left, but this wave was anomalously large and was already breaking on our left at that point, so we were skimming on the water at about 450 mph and completely committed. Suddenly we were on a fully breaking 10-12 foot wave surrounded by startled surfers. We both hung on for another 50 yards, but when the white water caught us it was all over. I think I might have actually pearled. After a brief dark tour of the bottom, my leash finally broke before my new hip could blow out.
It turns out swimming towards the light while tumbling along the bottom is tricky if you are clutching a paddle. Some surfers came over and helped us collect our boats, paddles, and seats, etc. The surfers also kept looking for my ama and laughed out loud at me when they realized I was on a ski.
“Somewhat” undaunted, I tried to maintain my explorations outside the breakwater that defines Hilo's bay, but I have been far more careful coming back in on Alan's wild ride.
On race morning everyone was standing around waiting for the pre-race meeting. A few folks walked over to chat-up the big new hoale dude. They had set up some big picnic tables, (a weird design with no cross bracing). As they approached, I sat on one that wasn't set up quite right. It collapsed to the ground with a thunderous clap and dumped me onto my back into the center of the collapsed table. 100 Hawaiians went into silent startled shock.
My only option was to jump up and stick a gymnast style landing and bow to the judges. Much clapping and hooting ensued and then several very tanned clones of Larry, Larry, Dean, and Reivers came over to patiently lecture me about that particular table design and how you can only sit on it “just so.” Having broken many chairs at important meetings, it was, all in all, pretty much my traditional method of introducing myself to a new group of folks.
The race instructions were clear enough. If you were doing the long course follow Stan's boat until he stops, and then turn around his boat and surf back. If you were doing the short course you were supposed to follow some other guy's nearly identical boat.
There were 4 skis and dozens of OCs. Only one other ski paddler was from Hilo; Arron the local guy who has arms as thick as my legs and paddles a 10 year old V10. Justin and Nicolas, a couple hotshots from the Kona side, also showed up with fancy new V10s.
The start was “interesting.” We were lined up along a 1/4 mile section of beach about 10 yards off shore in 15 mph headwinds while trying to stay out of the way of some spectacular high school OC6 races. I lined up far-left and Stan drove his boat past us all starting from the far-right. As he passed our left end and dropped the flag I realized the folks on the other end had been racing for a while.
I found my way into a friendly pod of OCs and hung on for a moment to assess the bumpy headwind conditions and my own dubious balance and fitness. I started slow, adjusting to the bumps while Arron and Justin from Kona sprinted and dropped me immediately.
Using a strategy that I have perfected in the Whatcom Classic, I stayed with my little group for quite some time thinking I was keeping up just fine, before realizing about 2 miles in that they were chasing that other dude's boat for the turnaround of the short course at Honoli'i. Then, waaaaaay over right I saw the full train chasing Stan's boat. I had some serious lonely ground to make up to head over there as we all headed upwind in moderate swell and wind chop.
After Stan stopped at about 4.5 miles, the long course turned around and we got some great downwind conditions with wind and swell moving in general accordance. Still, I never really got into a good wave jumping groove till I was almost back in the bay with about a mile to go. At that point things became more organized and familiar to a PNW paddler. Only then I was able to claw past 6-8 more OCs.
The run back from the turn was a fantastic downwind romp with flipped OCs scattered along the way. However, I appear to need more time in this water to get more linky on the smaller wind waves that let you drop onto the bigger ones.
I ended up as the 3rd ski and in the middle of a bunch of great folks all out really enjoying each other and a great island day. They have all heard of the gorge races and would love to check it all out.
Mahalo
Pmarcus
01/08/17 #20438
Great Post Mike….
Reivers Dustin
01/08/17 #20442
Similar to the word from Jeff Hillburn. We got him talking at Avenue Bread yesterday after the Sat Morning run. Jeff got a couple of runs in - including the Maliko run. He talked about “stair stepping”. Like a good day on Bellingham Bay with fast monster ground swell running through.
One thing is visibility. There's no real horizon, it's all swell. You can't see things in normal perspective. Important to lock in the right landmarks. Your place around other paddlers is in shifting 3-D.
Surfing is waaay different. He could surf up the backs of the beasts on the chop. The swell is not obvious for rides. Jeff talked about getting little surprise rocket rides on the downsides.
Regards the leash thing: this is where some of the first stern leash arrangements came up. It's one thing to have big wind-loading on a sideways 'ski. I can't imagine the incredible forces on a 'ski in a breaking wave. If something doesn't give then you drown.
On whales and sharks: back when the whale was hanging around in Bellingham Bay a couple of us paddlers crossed paths with it. I've paddled around Orcas and this was totally different. I'm certain that damn feeding whale had no idea I was 10 yards from him when he surfaced. I just don't think I mattered - or maybe like Jim Bishop said later, it was not healthy and was screwed up. Regardless, I tried to get the heck out of his area.
Next time bring video of Alan's wave. that be cool. Actually, is that what you did Dennis?
rd