Me, stalling on the inside section (photo courtesy Buddy)

Winds were fairly light, with a fading northwest swell on tap. On a whim, we decided to check out an out-of-the-way secret spot that I'll call Silva's. I'd never been, so I was looking forward to giving the place a go.

Just getting to the spot required a long drive, a long walk and a long paddle. It didn't look all that great from shore, but we knew better. So we chugged ourselves out into the lineup.

The surf was indeed pretty good, in about the 3-5 foot (Haw'n) range. The swell wasn't pure--a bit inconsistent and shifty--but good waves could still be had. There were multiple sections that you had to make which bowled and sometimes pitched nicely. The wind was suspect, but fairly light in the early morning.

Funniest thing about the break was the unique crowd. Being relatively out of the way (and out of the limelight), this spot seemed to attract a much more mature group of waveriders. Everyone, save for one kid, was over 30, with the mean age hovering in the late-30's. And there was an abundance (at least four) of those rare species known as kneeboarders, with only one of those plentiful bodyboarder-types (me).

Buddy and Rich were a bit spent from their previous day's epic go-out at solid Jocko's. Still, they managed some good rides in the surprisingly busy (yet cordial) lineup. They both snagged a few small caverns, and Rich even did a spiffy takeoff without his board (nah, only joking Reeech!).

Me, I was ravenously hungry for waves, but forced myself to patiently wait for the sets. Caught some really nice ones, and even got covered up on a few.

Because of my pallid complexion, I decided to forego my usual black-on-black jersey/wetsuit-shorts combo and just wear boardshorts. As you may or may not know, the reason I hesitate to wear boardshorts is because of an embarrassing situation that occurred to me way back. Well, wave number two reminded me of why I still shouldn't wear them.

Took off nicely, set up for an impending hollow section, then BAM! Blasted by the lip. My body went sprawling, cartwheeling around in front of the whitewater. The drawstrings on my shorts somehow got loose, and I found myself rolling around underwater with my shorts to my knees. As Winnie the Pooh would say, "Oh bother!"

After a few more embarrassing moments like that, I finally got smart and tied a couple of square knots on the string, securing that puppy in place.

Made up for it by catching a few of the set waves, riding them thru multiple sections before releasing in the channel. Even scored a really nice lip section which I tagged and launched into a clean el rollo (with eyes wide shut).

Turned into a marathon four-hour surf session, and everyone eventually bailed when the wind picked up at 11. It wasn't really big, it wasn't perfect, but it was still a damned fun session.

Aloha from Paradise,