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| Rick Carroll |
We’re back on the island. Most of the time you don't feel like you're on a small volcanic rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. But pick up a map or consult a globe of the Earth, and the rock appears as a speck amid voluminous blue water. Maybe that's what makes it so special. We could blow away at any time.
That's how I felt paddling out into the rough, high-surf advisory waters of Hanalei Bay on Thursday to say a final goodbye and aloha to my friend Rick Carroll who passed away in August. Somewhere out beyond the buoys in the rocking grey-colored drink, I met the six-man outrigger canoe, Ho'ohaniAmelika, with steersman Christian Marston. I also met Noah, a much younger man than I on a surfboard. We bobbed and sloshed, sang a Hawaiian chant, making brief the sacred paddle-out.
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| Christian Marston blows conch in preparation for ceremonial paddle-out for Rick Carroll. PHOTO:BBS |
"We've got to get back in," said Christian, directing a turn-around of the canoe. "The big waves will be coming."
I had Rick on my mind the whole time. "Brother, this is for you. I wouldn't do this otherwise."
I watched the long, narrow canoe built for speed and efficiency maneuver quickly away toward the river mouth, like a large fish with six-fins in motion.
Paddling back alone on my belly toward the distant shore on my 9' 6" surfboard, I rocked in the swell troughs, losing visibility of the beach, then rising again to spy the tiny pier as my marker. I lost track of Noah on his board, as he no doubt lost track of me. Dark clouds overhead appeared ominous.
I was reminded of the story of legendary surfer/lifeguard Eddie Aikau who, in an attempted rescue of the stranded voyaging canoe Hokule'a, paddled toward the closest island of Lanai on his surfboard for help. He was never seen again. The crew survived, discovered by the U.S. Coast Guard.
You see the bumper sticker in his honor: "Eddie would go." And a major big-wave event called "The Eddie" is held at Waimea on Oahu's North Shore when the surf rises to the size of large cruise ship.
Mine was a much more benign situation, if you can use that word under the circumstances. Strong currents are always circling Kauai, the northwestern most of the Hawaiian chain.
The day we arrived a story appeared in the local newspaper of two drownings off local beaches. One was a 69-year-old man who had a heart attack after bumping his head on a rock while boogie boarding. In the other incident, a 20-year-old woman was caught in a current while swimming off the shore of Lumahai, a beach made famous as the location for the movie South Pacific. It's one of our favorite beaches. Stories like this are fairly common. It's easy to be lulled by the magnificent beauty and seemingly tame conditions.
"I couldn't see you out there," said Barbara when I got in. "The canoe was barely visible."
The canoe crew and Noah arrived back on shore long before I did.
Back on land we headed for the Tahiti Nui tiki-bar cafe in Hanalei to further celebrate Rick's life with family and friends -- including Rick's gracious wife Marcie and his daughter Shannon. The Nui has been in the capable hands of Christian's family for generations. It was cameoed in the movie The Descendants with George Clooney and Beau Bridges.
Entertainment was provided by Michael Keale and the omnipresent ambassador of Hawaiian music and aloha, Koko Kanealii, once a drummer for vocalist Don Ho. Michael, a singer with a voice as soothing as a tropical breeze, is a neighbor at Puamana where Rick and Marcie have resided following years of travel adventures. Christian and Rick go way back.
I had jotted down a few notes expecting to say a few words at the indoor memorial but the enthralling music put everyone in a state of island bliss that Rick would have loved. I recalled tears welling in his eyes during an evening of Hawaiian music five years ago at the Nui, shared with Marcie and Barbara.
At the celebration wonderful photos of Rick and an array of his many books were displayed, including the coffee-table-sized edition of the Voice of the People that he authored about Israel Kamakawiwi'ole, aka Bruddha Iz, best known for his Rainbow Song, a medley rendition of Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World, which mesmerized a worldwide audience.
Rick had been in the midst of writing a piece about Israel and his musical contribution requested by the Library of Congress. Marcie, a talented writer herself, and daughter Shannon, hope to complete the work.
Since I've talked about Rick in several earlier blogs I will not go into our relationship any further than to say I felt so fortunate to have met him and become close friends over the past few years. He had been an idol of mine from the time I was 23 years old at my first career employment at the San Jose Mercury-News. A longtime close friend remarked that she had never seen Rick angry. His smile could disarm the meanest hombre in the room. That toothy smile and his ceaseless curiosity were his ticket to getting the best stories.
I smile when I consider the serendipity of meeting him on this tiny island in the Pacific. Our paths had finally intersected. And this day I had paddled into troubled waters in his honor.
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka'puana. Aloha nui loa, my friend.
