In Hawaii, Eric and I discovered a beach that is referred to by the locals as Slaughterhouse Beach. It is a smallish beach at the end of what is effectively a small canyon, and it is on the north shore of the island which gets the big swells from the open ocean. The waves coming into this beach are terrifyingly large and violent, which is why we decided that of all the beaches in paradise, this is where we wanted to spend not one but two entire afternoons swimming and trying not to die.
There is a reason for this beach’s name and it is not that it is near an animal processing facility.
Our first afternoon there we just happened upon it while out for an exploratory drive around Maui. The humongous waves beckoned us with promises of outstanding body surfing, and there were a couple of other people in the water so we figured it was probably OK to swim. In we went!
Just trying to get past the break to where we could start bodysurfing, we got absolutely pummeled by wave after wave. I was repeatedly picked up and tossed around by the waves I was trying to catch, somersaulting involuntarily in the churning water, until it dumped me into the sandy bottom and I could come up gasping for air.
Sounds fun, doesn’t it?
Once I learned how to duck dive the waves (go under them as they come towards you) rather than get savaged by them, it was actually pretty fun, though I still got worked over a bunch of times. We decided that the only way to make it more fun would be to get boogie boards to ride the waves. It was too late to do that on day one, so the next day we came back with our boogie boards ready to show the ocean a thing or two.
The waves were smaller on day two, but still big enough for some good fun. The most important discovery of day two is that I suck at boogie boarding. A newborn deer would be a better boogie boarder than I am. And it is really hard to duck dive with a floating barn door leashed to your wrist, so I got ravaged by more than a few waves just trying to get past the break. I am still amazed that nothing truly terrible happened to me.
Here’s a really short video of a wave from day two. Note that the waves here are smaller than day one.
Back at the hotel, I was a little disappointed in myself.
“I suck at making boogies,” I whined to Eric.
He couldn't disagree. Luckily, we both agreed it probably didn't change my overall worth as a person. Much.
Minor redemption came this past weekend skiing, or "making snow boogies" as we now call it. I am waaaaaay better at making snow boogies than I am at making water boogies. As for my prowess at making land boogies, I'll let you know after our salsa lesson tomorrow night.
We were lucky enough that the worst that happened to either of us was a few somersaults down the mountain and getting snow down our pants. I was particularly proud of one tumble which prompted a woman nearby to shout "Holy shit are you OK?" If you're not falling, you're not skiing hard enough.
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