The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

The Beauty Wave

Dane & ‘Iwa

March 2013

Under brooding skies, Dane, Kama, Yeti, Hope and ‘Iwa stood outside the door of a small white house in the town of Nazaré. Like every other house in town, it had a red roof, but Dane knew he was in the right place when he saw a gate fashioned out of surfboards.

“I had a feeling some of you might be back,” Leandro said when he opened the door.

This was a stealth mission. A giant swell was also battering California, and the whole big wave surfing community would be descending on Mavericks. Not this crew.

Dane cut to the chase. “My board bag was lost on the way over. I need to find the biggest board around, at least ten feet, bigger if possible. Preferably a quad fin. Can you help me?”

Leandro opened the door wide. “Come in, my friends.”

The house was sparsely furnished, neat and tidy with a few oversized black-and-white wave photographs on the walls. Leandro led him through a door and into the garage. Boards of all shapes and sizes lined the walls. Longboards, shortboards, guns, squashtails, pintails, swallowtails, twin fins, thrusters, quads. Tow boards and stand-up boards. Even a foil board.

“Tell me what this is for,” Leandro said.

“I’m sure you know about the storm tracking this way. We’re going to paddle in at Praia do Norte.”

Leandro raised his eyebrows and waved a finger. “Not a good idea, man. The weather, it could be ugly, and the direction will make it for closeout. You will need the ski for this one.”

Yeti was standing next to him, arms crossed. “No ski.”

“You must go with ski.”

“Not this time,” Kama said.

Dane walked over to the boards, eyeing the guns on a rack in the far corner. He zeroed in on a yellow board, second from the top. A single fin. “How long is this one?”

Leandro sighed. “Eleven.”

Dane ran his hand along the rails, liking what he felt. “Mind if I have a look?”

Leandro came and took the board down, laying it gingerly on a strip of old carpet on the floor.

Dane recognized the flower lei logo immediately and his heart kicked up a notch. “How on earth did you end up with a Dick Brewer all the way over here?”

“Garrett, he leave behind boards. This one he say too old-school. Me, I like it.”

Dane would take a single fin Brewer over any new quad, and this one looked barely ridden. A collector’s item. “I need to borrow it. Please, I’ll pay you whatever you ask.”

Leandro looked at him with dark, stormy eyes. “You do this for the love, no?”

They all glanced around at each other, nodding in agreement.

“We do.”

“Then you no pay me.”

“You sure?”

“I give you the board to ride on one, how do you say...condition.”

“Name it.”

“I go with you.”

“No ski,” Dane said.

“No ski.”

“You’re on.”

The forecast for tomorrow was heavy rain, light wind and a big swell that they were praying swung around so it would hit at just the right angle. No one outside the room, besides Leandro, had any idea what was going down at Nazaré—no sponsors, photographers or friends on the other side of the pond. Dane hardly knew, himself. All he knew was he had to do this. No apologies, no second-guessing.

Having ‘Iwa here gave him an extra measure of confidence, and they snuggled in bed as the rain pattered down on the tile roof.

“Thank you for coming with me, I know it was a lot to ask,” he said.

She wrapped a finger around a lock of his hair and tugged. “You’ve already thanked me. Twelve times.”

He laughed. “Can you tell it means a lot to me?”

“If it means a lot to you, it means a lot to me.”

“What if I chicken out?” he whispered. The thought had begun to haunt him.

“Then you chicken out. You have a long life ahead of you, Dane, and this isn’t the kind of thing you rush. If you don’t go out, we’ll drink coffee and watch the waves. Come back next year.”

He kissed her on the temple. “How did you get to be so wise at such a fresh, young age?”

“I’m an old soul.”

A beautiful soul.

“I love your soul,” he told her.

Soon, they began to drift off, twisted together like marine debris and tangled ropes washed in after years at sea. ‘Iwa had a cute little snore, and he felt the rise and fall of her chest as she sank into the mattress. How he could feel so much love for one person confounded him.

In the morning, Dane woke long before the dawn, if he even slept at all. Hope, Kama and Yeti were already up, sitting on the porch. Since their last visit to Nazaré, his little crew had made a pact that they would only go out if all of them felt good about it. No whispering voices in the back of the head, bad tides or shifty conditions. If just one of them said no , they would all sit out. “Collective intuition will elevate your game,” Belinda had told them when they’d all stayed at her place one weekend for a yoga retreat.

“How’s it looking?” he asked.

Yeti shut his computer. “Let’s go see for ourselves.”

The five of them walked to the cafe, grabbed to-go cups and headed to the beach. Leandro was already there, wearing jeans and a heavy jacket. The Brewer was zipped tight in the board bag next to him, and he stood on a high point, staring out to sea.

“Bom dia,” Dane said.

Leandro jumped. “Oi, you scare me.”

“Sorry, man.”

He gave them a once-over. “She looks like she will eat you alive. But I also see many beauty waves, something you may ride.”

Dane couldn’t help but smile at the phrase, beauty waves , and he saw Kama was smiling, too.

“What about you?”

“I talk it over with Maria last night, and we decide I am not going. I never tell you, but we are expecting a child, and I cannot do it. I am sorry, my friends.”

Dane burrowed his feet in the sand to keep them warm. “Leandro, it’s okay. This is our deal, anyway.”

They stood for a while and watched. To the north, thick curtains rained down over the water, and to the south, the skies were a dappled gray. The waves were not as big as last time, but glassy and peeling. From the looks on his friend’s faces, Dane already knew they would be going out.

Leandro seemed to sense it, too. “I tell you this—a set will swing wide sometimes, closing out the whole ocean. You watch for that, you paddle out, fast as you can go.” He pointed out. “I send a boat if it happens.”

“Thank you.”

Leandro patted him and Kama on the back, then Yeti and Hope. “ Boa soarte. I will be up at the fort, keeping an eye. You join me?” he said to ‘Iwa.

“Yes, please,” ‘Iwa said.

Dane had a stomach full of forest birds, but he was ready.

‘Iwa hugged him, and whispered into his ear. “You got this, babe.”

A bang of thunder caused ‘Iwa to jump two feet in the air. Standing at the fort overlooking Praia do Norte, she and Leandro watched as Dane and the rest of the crew entered the water, colorful specks in the vast Atlantic. The weather was dreary and miserably cold, and she pulled the beanie down lower, just above her eyes. For now, thankfully, the rain remained offshore.

The fort and its lighthouse were forged out of the cliffs themselves. Ancient and rugged limestone, they had no doubt seen their fair share of disaster below. Such was the irony of point breaks. In exchange for those perfect, peeling waves, a person faced the real risk of shattering their bones on cold, hard rock.

Leandro leaned up against the wall, peering through his binoculars. Every so often he lowered them, mumbled a few words to himself, then lifted them up again. He also had a telephoto lens draped over his shoulder. From where they were standing, it felt as though they were in an eagle aerie, looking down into the rapacious jaws of the sea. A vertigo-inducing lookout even for someone used to heights.

“It looks like it’s getting bigger?” ‘Iwa said, half hoping he would say no, it doesn’t .

“It does.”

More and more people began to show up, see what the fuss was about. Other surfers that Leandro knew, a few old women in knitted capes, a fisherman and a dog who seemed to belong to no one. A big set came through, enormous lines of ocean that rolled beneath the surfers as they scratched over the waves, then reared up and hurled toward the shore in nuclear explosions. The people watching began speaking animatedly, all in Portuguese.

“What are they saying?” ‘Iwa asked Leandro.

“The woman, she say she would chain her husband to the lighthouse if he mention to go out there.”

‘Iwa grinned, despite the knot in her stomach. “She might be onto something.”

Leandro’s eyes lit up, and he let loose a full-throated laugh. “You women are all the same, no?”

“I think you have it backward, you men are.”

He thought on that, then said, “Not so much. Some are made from different cloth. No one else is brave enough, or luoco enough, to be out there on a day like today.”

Dane was passionate and idealistic and threw his whole heart into things, but he was far from crazy. None of them were.

Leandro handed ‘Iwa the binoculars. “You take these. When they ride, I capture it on film.”

‘Iwa had her own camera, but her lens was much smaller, so she gladly took the binocs. None of them stayed in place out there, continuously repositioning. Set after set passed. These waves were nothing like she had ever seen, and over the past year and a half, she had seen a lot. They were hefty and shifty and darkly ominous. The lightning only intensified the feel.

Getting through the shore break had been his first hurdle. On the last trip, Dane had observed the currents and thought he knew where the best entry point would be. But today there had been no gaps, no channels between the sandbars. Even the spot Leandro mentioned looked impassable. He’d touched the water and asked for a blessing. This was the threshold he needed to cross, he knew that.

They’d waited for a lull that never came, finally charging into the water, putting their heads down and paddling. Duck diving an eleven foot, voluminous board in overhead shore break was no joke. Add to that the thick wetsuit and cold water and Dane felt his energy sapping quickly. The other three somehow had made it through, but he noticed himself getting swept toward the rocks with each wall of whitewater he crashed through.

At a point where his arms had been ready to quit and his lungs heaving, he noticed a calm spot ahead. He paddled toward it with a last sweep of energy. Once there, the ocean began sucking him out, fast. This was the conveyor belt Leandro had spoken of. Paddling became easier and he caught his breath again as he moved into deeper water. His three friends were positioned in a big triangle, with Yeti farthest out, all eyes on the horizon. Dane checked his position against the fort, and saw he was right where he wanted to be.

Every place you surfed, the water had its own smell, and this morning at Nazaré, it smelled fishy and briny and electric. Lightning still hovered off in the distance, but if there was thunder, he couldn’t hear it above the pounding of the surf.

Now the hard part. Waiting for a wave without losing his nerve. Though there was really no other way in. In surf like this, catching a wave or paddling out to sea were often the options. Sometimes you might have to paddle miles down the coast to an open harbor or bay to wash in, or if you were lucky, get picked up by a boat. Leandro knew this.

Out here, Dane felt almost invisible, and insignificant in the most potent sense of the word. Four surfers alone with the elements. Human, board, ocean, storm. Energy pulsed all around them—in the waves that had traveled thousands of miles to get here, in the charge in the air, and the Coke bottle–green water where their legs dangled. Fear mixed with awe mixed with a singular mindset.

Now and then, sun breached the cloud layer, forming circles of light on the water. Not enough to offer warmth, but enough to remind Dane what was up there. Blue sky behind the clouds.

Eerily, the surf had picked up, surface slick as polished stone. No one had caught anything yet, and they all remained quiet, saving their energy. The waves were violent and spitting and dark. Some were massive closeouts, others not quite big enough. This break owed them nothing. To keep himself calm Dane began talking to himself.

Breathe, motherfucker.

You got this.

You are not alone.

“Brah, you okay?” Kama asked, sitting about twenty feet away.

Dane exhaled. “Never better.”

Now, hyperaware of his surroundings, he saw a wave bending his way. Just the right direction, just the right size. He looked toward the fort again to gain his bearings and saw a small crowd had gathered. The wave came in fast, a moving pyramid of water that lifted him up and initially threatened to drag him back out to sea. Dane put his head down and paddled just as a flash of lightning engulfed him. The hair on his arms stood on end. One last time, he turned to look back, then wished he hadn’t.

The bathymetry of the abyss had worked its magic, and the wave had tripled in size. Too late for Dane, because he was already hanging at the top, poised to drop, miles to the bottom. When the force field pulled him onto the face, he had no choice but to go with it. The Brewer held tight to the water, slicing through bumps with alarming speed. Rather than riding the wave, it felt as though the wave were riding him, drawing him diagonally across its face in a perilous dance. And that’s where he found the beauty and extraordinary bliss.

The beauty wave .

Leandro looked through his lens. “Oh meu deus .”

‘Iwa followed with the binocs. A slightly different direction, longer and taller lines. The kind of corduroy you saw in those old photos of the north shore. But this water was not tropical blue.

“ é esse. This is the one,” Leandro said.

When the wave was almost upon Dane, he swung around and paddled back toward shore, flying down the wave at warp speed. Click. Click. Click. Leandro was snapping away, then he stopped. Out of the blue, the wave morphed into a towering steel-colored mountain.

He groaned. ‘Iwa covered her eyes. In the distance, a siren wailed. She tried not to think about the worst that could happen, and instead channeled light to Dane, sending him good mana .

As in an old film, their time together reeled through her mind. That first night at Uncle’s and how he followed her into the kitchen thinking he was going to save her from her own father. Sitting on the beach eating tacos and wondering if he was going to kiss her. And how he’d shown up for an all-day hike wearing brand-new jeans. She thought of his particular brand of humor and the power of his touch. His dark five o’clock shadow, and how it felt rough against her cheek. And most of all, the explosion behind her rib cage when he had shown up on the beach that day, determined not to give up on her.

At the far edge, a ray of sun hit the surface, turning it a bright, shimmering green. Dane headed for the light, unsure he would make it. He was nearly at the bottom now, and could feel the weight of the water slowing him down, trying to lift him back up. He crouched lower, hands out.

“Cheehoo!” he cried, sea spray filling his mouth, clouding his vision.

And then a shadow came behind him. A wall of water thicker than a building, higher than the sky. His board wobbled. He recovered his balance. The lip was chasing him down and there was nothing he could do but surrender. Hang on , his mind screamed. But instead of annihilating him, the wave shot him out onto a rolling green shoulder. Shaking and humbled, he dropped to his stomach, his whole body tingling. He took a few long, deep breaths to slow his heart, put his head down, and paddled back out for more.

Yeti caught the next wave, slightly smaller but equally impressive. They all watched from behind as he disappeared over a sloping mountain of water. Kama followed on the third wave in the set.

“How you feeling?” Hope asked.

“Fired up,” he said, then added, “Scared shitless. How about you?”

“Stoked.” She held up her hand and he could see it trembling. “A little bit shaky.”

They both laughed and Dane felt his whole body relax a few degrees.

“Attagirl.”

He gave her massive credit for even paddling out. But Hope was tough as nails, and out-trained all of them.

“All I want is one,” she said.

“One is all you need.”

Wasn’t that the truth. One wave. One woman. One life.

A little after noon, ‘Iwa went to the cafe to grab sandwiches and sparkling water for Leandro and herself. He had taken it upon himself to be their personal watchman and said he would not leave until each and every one of them was in. When she returned, Leandro was waiting for her at the trailhead down to the beach, hands in pocket, looking anxious.

“What is it?” she asked, breathless.

“They come in. Let’s go,” he said, turning to follow the sandy path.

“All of them?” she asked.

“All of them.”

When they reached the bottom, the four surfers were all lined up facing the water, boards lying in the sand behind them. ‘Iwa picked up the pace, as did Leandro.

“A very good day for surfing. Very, very good day,” he said.

As they neared the group, Dane must have sensed them, because he turned and smiled. Soaking wet, light socket hair, and now holding a yellow surfboard under his arm. He was sandy and salty with bloodshot eyes, but the electric smile on his face was one of a man who had stared down the unknowable and won. It was a memory she would carry all through her life.