I purchased my first Hawaiian surfboard at the Hanalei Watersports Swapmeet on Saturday. A golden yellow Bruce Jones log, single fin, thick in the middle 9'6", well-ridden with scars to prove it, a relic among the the long and short guns and wide paddle boards lined side-by-side across the lawn in front of the old Hanalei School building that now houses a surf shop, clothing boutiques and a sports bar cafe in the center of Hanalei.
The swapmeet takes place on the first Saturday of the month and the boards start showing up as early as 7am and by 9 the grass is covered with boards and surfers and watersports enthusiasts of all ages milling about talking story. I came looking for the perfect board. I felt as though it would be here waiting for me. I was not in a rush. It was probably 10 am when I got there, following the usual Saturday tai chi ritual on the beach. I was centered with chi. I was prepared to deal with four bills tucked in my board shorts. And there it was.
I bought the board from a guy named Michael. He tells me it was his log and I can see he has patched every ding on the board, says he's glad that I am getting it because he can see that I truly appreciate the style. I tell him I'm glad he's good with the deal. I feel I'm getting off cheap for $250.
"That's a great board," says one of the guys hanging nearby: "Bruce Jones was an epic designer."
Maybe he's a plant, working with Michael but I doubt it and it doesn't matter. "Is Bruce Jones from the island?"
"He was from California. He died recently and will not be shaping any more boards."
It's definitely a California-style longboard. I google Bruce Jones and discover he was my age, contemporary of Hobie Alter whose shop in Dana Point I remember from the early '60s. Bruce rode his first wave at nearby Doheny, which is where I rode my first wave at about the same time.
I am convinced it's all connected and it's all about timing. When our paths cross. You cannot force it. It's like a wave that comes thousands of miles across the ocean with your name on it. You know it's coming but you don't know when. Bruce died of a heart attack at age 68. I feel blessed to still be around and the current proprietor of one of his classic boards.
The next day I take "Old Yeller" out to Kalapaki on the other side of the island. I receive a few comments such as, "You've got the right board today," and "That's a nice longboard." I explain to one of the guys that I got it at the swapmeet in Hanalei yesterday. "How much?" "Two-fifty."
"That's a good deal," he says. "I think a lot of guys are riding hydrofoils and selling their old boards believing they will never use them again.. I don't know," he adds and I agree. There's something about getting back to basics when the time is right.
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