It’s not a good thing when everyone wants a piece of the action. Gold Rush: Damian Fulton
More recent news-making memorial paddle-outs have been orchestrated for Donald Takayama, the iconic surfboard shaper (2012: Oceanside, California, and Waikiki), NFL football star Junior Seau (also in Oceanside, 2012), Sean Collins (founder of Surfline, 2011), Dylan Smith (the local hero who saved six people during “superstorm” Sandy, 2012: Rockaway Beach, New York, and Rincon, Puerto Rico), little Molly Rowlee who died of cancer (2009: The Wall, Hampton, New Hampshire) and even a January, 2013, paddle-out onto Lake Ontario in Rochester, New York, in 37-degree water, to honor first-responders who were victims of a sniper attack on Christmas Eve in nearby Webster, New York. Paddling out, most clench a carnation or tulip stem in their teeth as an offering.
Seldom do we think of the awesome organizational skills required to plan these rituals, predicated as they are, on the presence of calm, glassy surf, the ubiquity and speed of Facebook, texting, etc., purchasing flowers, garlands or leis, a dedicatory surfboard, arrangements for music, bullhorns, and availability of GoPro cameras which permit us to eavesdrop on intimate moments of the ceremonies. Organizers of Sean Collins’ memorial, for example, made available some guidelines for paddle-out participants including such gems of advice as when to begin drumming with hands on your board and “don’t bring your favorite surfboard, as dings are common as the crowd joins hands.” All paddle-outs combine elements of sadness, joy, and unity in love for the stoke. Usually these sacred times are followed by participants’ return to mundane workaday activities, or perhaps a fundraiser.
Rarely, however, paddle-outs do not go quite so well. Normally, the vibe is akin to a conventional funeral, always tasteful and executed with affection for the deceased. In early 2009, however, a Newport Beach surfer passed away. What followed was reported by Corky Carroll in his blog on Surfersvillage. The surfer had achieved a reputation as a tequila-loving party dude, so it seemed fitting to pass around a bottle of tequila while his friends bobbed around in the paddle-out circle each taking a swig. Intent on draining the bottle, his friends soon found it hard to remain upright on their surfboards. When it came time to upturn the urn containing the remains, the surfer lost control as the wind kicked up and the ashes blew all over several participants! Hard, indeed, to maintain comportment in such contretemps.
The reality of the ocean as a source of both pleasure and danger is brought home in “blessing of the waves” rituals with origins in ancient Hawaiian tradition. In two illustrative cases, this beautiful oceanside rite brings together surfers of all skill levels and others who feel a spiritual connection to the ocean. In mid-October of 2012, on a clear Sunday morning at Huntington Beach, California, more than 1,000 people gathered for the Fifth Annual Blessing of the Waves, an interfaith service with an eclectic lineup of musical talent that included Dean Torrence of the Jan and Dean duo, whose song “Surf City” gave Huntington Beach its nickname. Organized by Catholic Diocese of Orange County, the event brought together Sikhs, Muslims, Jews, Christians, Bahais and Zoroastrians and also featured a Pacific Islander choir from Anaheim, many of whose members from Tonga and Samoa lost relatives or property in the great Indonesian tsunami (portrayed in the recent film, “The Impossible”). Participants at the beach expressed collective gratitude for the ocean as “an amazing resource” and asked for blessings for all entering the waters.
Earlier, in 1996, Hawaiian traditions were readily apparent in an ancient prayer ritual for surfers’ safety held also at Huntington Beach and presided over by native Hawaiian David Nuuhiwa, 71. Nuuhiwa, decked out in white pants, shirt, and a necklace of kukui nuts, took rock salt from Kauai, mixed it with sea salt, then sprinkled a wand of sacred ti leaves (also brought from Hawaii), and fanned the surf along the beach where the contestants would be entering the water. Ancient Hawaiian kahunas long ago began these devotional appeals to awaken Moana, the “vast ocean.”
Down in Australia, meanwhile, Aboriginal peoples from all parts of the country gathered at Bells Beach for the late-May, early-June Indigenous Surfing Title competition. Bells was featured, although not the actual locale, in the final scene of “Point Break,” where Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze lambaste each other as heavy rain and the holy mercy mother-of-hell swell heads for Swayze. A spectacular “smudging” ceremony designed by aboriginal elders to ritually cleanse the event was followed by a program of aboriginal dancing with drums and didgeridoos. Attendees were reminded of the locality sacred to the Wutherong people as a place of abundant fishing, kangaroos, and other wildlife essential to their traditional lifestyles. Winners must have been mindful of Kelly Slater’s 2010 win here when he donated his trophy bell to the Wutherong people. This rite’s inclusiveness and its display of the vital continuity of ancient, but still living traditions, testifies further to the sacredness of surfing the world’s waters. An unusual ritual, similar in its aim of inclusiveness, occurred during, for example, the Sands of the World ceremony to open the ISA World Masters Surfing Championship in El Salvador. Representatives, all over 35 years of age from 21 different countries, brought sand from their country’s beaches. These were mixed in a large pot on stage to signify unity of nations, beliefs, and races.
