Gentlemen, Take Your Seats!

Another week with four solid training sessions, and a few more aches and pains to contend with. Things are moving along and I am getting into the swing of 6-men canoe paddling once again. The last time I raced an OC-6 was in the Moloka`i Hoe, held in October of 2008.  Since then, I have mainly paddled OC-1 and OC-2 and gotten into long-distance standup paddle boarding (SUP), all of which do not require the same precision as paddling OC-6 (which is what we call a six-person outrigger canoe, compare to OC-1 or OC-2, with, as you might have guessed, one or two paddlers).

Early morning SUP warm up in Pauoa Bay

Our coach Kulani Lavea uses various techniques to help the crew get synchronized, including the mounting of a tiny camera on a post to either the front or back end of the canoe. This means, as everyone jokingly says, that you either comb your hair or check your make-up, as you are captured either from the front or the back. The purpose of the video is to make subtle corrections to one’s stroke technique, but also to look for blend of the five paddlers in the canoe (the sixth person is the steersperson).

Sunrise practice in Kailua Bay

Outrigger Canoe Paddling, and in particular club paddling, is one of the quintessential activities in our state to not only perpetuate Hawaiian culture as it exists today (alive and well, I might add), but to also teach life’s lessons to the young people of Hawai`i. There are over 50 canoe clubs in the state, spread over 6 islands. These clubs are organized in outrigger associations, one each on the Islands of Hawai`i, Kaua`i, Moloka`i and in Maui (which covers the islands of Maui and Lana`i), and 2 associations on the Island of O`ahu (due to the number of canoe clubs on that island). Each one of these associations holds regattas throughout the summer (depending on the association, up to 9 weekends), during which various races take place (around 40 throughout the day), with paddlers of various ages in a canoe, paddling over distances from a quarter mile to one-and-a-half miles, competing against similar teams from other clubs. For each place (1^st, 2^nd, 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th) the club for which a canoe paddles gets points, and at the end of the day, the club with the highest point total wins that particular regatta. The individual crews in the individual age groups collect points as well, and at the end of the regatta season, the two teams with the most points in each association get to go to the Outrigger Canoe State Championships and represent their association/island on the state level. Whoever wins that one race, which this year will take place on August 4^th at Ke`ehi Lagoon on O`ahu, will be crowned state champion of outrigger canoe paddling in their respective age group.

Regatta

If you think this is confusing, it gets a whole lot more confusing when you consider the tactics that a coach has to employ in order to get as many points as possible throughout the season, in various categories, with a finite number of paddlers who can paddle a maximum of two races per regatta, and who can only paddle in their age-group or a younger category (I suppose because you slow down with age (?)), but not “move up”. On top of that, you deal with paddlers who are not always able to make the regatta due to work or family obligations, and you start to understand that running a successful canoe club during regatta season takes a huge amount of knowledge and skills, far beyond just the physical aspects of paddling. Paddling coaches, all of whom are volunteers and spend countless hours of time and limitless energy for the cause, deserve a big Mahalo for what they are doing.

Within the canoe, there are very specific roles to be fulfilled by six paddlers in six seats. The roles are different for a short regatta-race compared to a long-distance race. During regattas, most races take place on a quarter-mile course, so depending on the length of the race, there are one or several 180 degree turns involved.

Seat One is called “Stroker”. This paddler, many times a smaller person, sets the pace and everyone else follows that pace. This is the human metronome, going faster to move the canoe on top of a wave, and slowing down while surfing to preserve energy.

Shown here in Seat One

Seat Two behind the stroker paddles on the opposite side and the primary responsibility of this paddler is to mimic the identical stroke on the opposite side of the canoe and therefore set the pace for everyone behind who paddles opposite. During regatta-turns, seat one and two stabilize the canoe near the turn-flag so that the steersperson can swing the back-end of the canoe around and do it in the least amount of time. While this sounds fairly simple, it actually requires a finely-tuned process between paddlers one and two, who counter-steer on the right side and then pull the canoe around on the left, primarily by severely hanging over the side of the canoe, paddles sticking in the water. Seat two always talks to seat one and offers words of encouragement and advice on stroke length and speed, as seat one can be a lonely place and one that carries the burden of the team.

Turn sequence

Seats Three and Four are called the “powerhouses”. These are typically occupied by the big, powerful paddlers who find plenty of room in the center of the canoe and push the canoe forward with every stroke of their massive blades. Seat three typically calls the “hut-ho”, which signals to everyone in the canoe the rhythm and timing of switching sides. In regattas, one normally switches sides every 12 to 14 strokes, while during long-distance racing the intervals can be a bit longer and also depend on the ocean swells a canoe encounters, as you never switch sides on the way “up” a wave, but rather on the way back “down” on the other side.

In regattas, it is important to have all of the paddlers paddling on the correct side of the canoe as you approach the turn-flag, as you want to have as much speed as possible going into the turn and not lose too much coming out. Regatta races are won by seconds and not minutes, so every inch and every stroke counts. Seat three and four are also the crew members that have to bail water out of the canoe in long-distance racing when it starts to fill up and gathers at the deepest point, which is in the area of those seats (ankle deep is the general rule when you start to worry). While you want to get a lot of the water out, you don’t want to be without your paddler for too long, so bailing a canoe is again a finely tuned process, where seat three would announce “three bailing, four counting” and then proceeds to bail water, while seat four would take over counting duties until three is back in the canoe and paddling (which is announced as “three is back in”).

Seat Five, behind the powerhouses and in front of the steersperson, makes sure the stroke is in sync with the rest of the canoe, and additionally assists the steersperson with steering duties (mainly in open water long-distance racing) when the water gets so strong that the tail of the canoe breaks out of its track.

Seat Five

Seat Six, the steersperson, is also the kapena (captain) of the canoe. This is the paddler who knows and reads the water and currents really well, who watches all five paddlers as they push through the water and gives advice and suggestions on how to find some faster way to get from point A to point B. The steersperson always has the last word and one never argues with that person, no matter what happens. The hierarchy in the canoe has to be maintained, and while everyone might have an opinion on how to paddle, only one opinion counts, which is that of the captain. Any disputes or differences in opinion can be argued over after the race, with a cold beer in hand (but not on the beach, that would be illegal).

What is my seat, you might ask? Right now, we are switching between all the seats, and everyone gets time stroking in seat one, following in two, paddling hard in three and four, and following in five. Coaches do that to see in what configuration the canoe moves the fastest, which is not always the most obvious selection. I like to paddle in three and four, as one is able to apply the “biggest” stroke, extending your shoulder far forward and ripping the paddle backwards with full force. However, if truth be told, my build is not that of a successful powerhouse, so most likely I will find myself in either seat two or five. Too early in the season to worry about that, though.

Besides the distribution of responsibilities in the canoe, good energy and spirit is essential; it is what is referred to as mana. All successful canoe teams have a great spirit in the canoe and support each other from beginning to end. During a six-hour race (like Moloka`i Hoe), almost every paddler has a moment of weakness, but with the help of fellow paddlers, you can always overcome those moments and contribute to the success. This is one of the reasons why teams get together before they climb into the canoe, hold hands and say a pule (prayer) or oli (chant).

Until the next time, mālama pono, a hui hou!

Chris

Slippahs and other Essentials

Aloha mai kākou – hello everyone.

Two weeks into the 2012 training, and all is starting to fall into place. Going through a regatta paddling season is all about routine, as one has to juggle the demands of life with the demands of training. Right now, we are still paddling early in the morning – 4 days a week at 6am. Everyone has to show up not only on time, but also all the time, otherwise, the team falls apart. Each paddler deals with this differently. Some roll right out of bed and come down to the training site, others, myself included, start the day really early (can you say “3am wake-up call”), get some work done, then head out for paddling, and return back to work thereafter.

Besides the time in the canoe to refine our stroke technique and get used to the team, it also takes some running, swimming, bicycling and weight training to work the muscles that don’t get used all that much in a canoe; this all adds up and pretty quickly, it becomes a full and physically demanding schedule.

Once we get closer to the racing season, which here on Hawai`i Island starts on May 19^th, training shifts to afternoons at 5:15pm at Kailua-Pier. Afternoons, because the water has some chop and movement to it and paddling is completely different and more demanding. For me, getting to the pier at least twice a week by that time will take some getting used to, as normally I don’t leave work that early. I will have to go to work really early to get my work done, and hope that I don’t get drawn into something late in the day. In canoe clubs, there is a simple rule: show up for training, or else don’t paddle on Saturday (regatta day). I will see how I do with that.

The great thing about canoe paddling is that it takes very little in terms of equipment to participate in club paddling and racing. You start with a pair of board shorts, which come in all kinds of designs and colors. Everyone has their favorite brand, even though many brands nowadays are owned by the same conglomerate. Some of the shorts are simply black with just a splash of color, while others pretty much cover the entire spectrum. As paddling takes primarily place in fiberglass or wood canoes, the seats are not all that comfy, so some paddlers opt for padded shorts, sometimes made out of neoprene – a good option if your okole hurts (Hawaiian word of the day: okole, which is the body part you are sitting on).

Next is a shirt, made out of light and quick-drying synthetic material, and also a hat. Both of these items are optional, as are padded gloves to protect your hands from blisters (for me, they have never worked and it seemed that I got more blisters with gloves than without).

A paddle is obviously essential, and it is not only a work of art, but you get really attached to it. Once you find a paddle that feels good in your hands, with the right-size shaft and a weight you like (lightest is not always best), this becomes your trusted ally and you treat this paddle like a family member. You never plow the paddle into the sand, and you always rinse it off after use. You keep the paddle with you, and it is always a good idea to somehow mark it since on regatta days, there are easily a few thousand paddles around and yours could easily get lost.

Finally, the pièce de resistance, the slippahs. Slippahs, known as slippers, flip-flops, go-aheads, sandals and the like in the rest of the world, are the quintessential footwear in Hawai`i. When you go to somebody’s house, most likely there will be a wide array of slippahs sitting outside the door, in many colors and sizes.

Slippahs are something you have, but not necessarily something you own, as typically you put your feet into the two closest slippahs, which may not always be the same size or color, nor the same ones you arrived with. In the old days, slippahs were the basic black, two-piece model (bottom rubber sole with the strap attached through holes in the sole). These types of slippahs are still the most widely used and you can do anything with them. You can wear them with a swimsuit, you can wear them with shorts and aloha shirt, and you can wear them with long slacks – you are (almost) never wrong with slippahs. Over time however, slippahs have become really fancy, in all kinds of colors, with Hawaiian petroglyph prints on them, and there are even stores where you can design your own slippahs, decorated with rhinestone and other fancy materials.

Those types of slippahs should probably be called something fancier, like “designer sandals”, and you definitely wouldn’t find them down at the canoe halau. The very first time somebody invited me to come to the beach and paddle with them, I showed up barefoot in my leather loafers (that was quite a revelation for me – no socks!). Quickly did I learn that not only do you look foolish on the beach like that, but it is really difficult to get the sand out of your shoes afterwards, so one of my first lessons was to buy myself some slippahs. Since then, I have become a slippah aficionado and I know exactly what my favorite ones are and when they go on sale at Long’s. I always stock up on them and always have about five pair in use – a couple of them around the house, a pair in my car (just in case …), even a pair under my desk in my office.

I even have a pair in my suitcase when I travel, no matter where to. I also always have slippahs with me when we paddle a long-distance race, as you never know if somehow you end up somewhere on a beach, and you do not want to be caught without footwear somewhere along the coast and have to find your way back to the road. By now, I am so used to this footwear that I can go running in slippahs, walk around an island in them and one day, I know, they will become my primary footwear.

With that, I am ready for another week of training with the gang and will report back next week.

A hui hou,

Chris

First Day of School

Aloha nō kākou – good day to everyone.

I am sitting at my laptop, somewhat exhausted after a couple of hours on the water, and am trying to gather my thoughts for my first Posts from the Pacific blog entry. You are probably wondering why you, let alone anyone, would want to read this, and frankly, I don’t blame you; I too am wondering why I let anyone talk me into writing this.  Well, it is all the PR lady’s fault, but I am getting ahead of myself, so please allow me to start from the beginning and explain (or is it defend?) myself.

My name is Chris Luedi and I am the Regional Vice President for Fairmont Hotels and Resorts here in the State of Hawai`i. I set foot onto the Hawaiian Islands for the first time back in January of 2001, when Fairmont acquired its first Hawaiian resort, The Fairmont Kea Lani on the island of Maui. At the time, I was living and working in Scottsdale, Arizona, at The Fairmont Scottsdale Princess, and the company asked me to go to Hawai`i to run the first “international” hotel for what was then a small, but fledging hotel company with roots in Canada.

Knowing next to nothing about life of any kind in Hawai`i (does one wear three-piece suits and ties in Hawai`i?), I arrived on Maui with not much more than a suitcase (yes, including one suit and tie) and many good intentions of getting to know this place in the middle of the Pacific ocean.

Shown here at The Fairmont Kea Lani

Today, 12 years later, including 10 years on Maui and now already 2 years on Hawai`i Island, this is my home and the people here are my family and that I have a tiny bit of understanding of what the spirit of these spectacular and magical islands is all about.

Over the years, I have been taken under the wings of many a great cultural person, individuals like Kimokeo Kapahulehua, a great Maui waterman and cultural guide, Kumu (teacher) Keli`i Tau`a, a prolific perpetuator of Hawaiian culture surrounding the Hawaiian outrigger canoe, and Kaniela Akaka Jr., the soft-spoken historian most knowledgeable about the local area now referred to as Mauna Lani Resort, home of The Fairmont Orchid. In the process, I have had the great privilege of experiencing some of the most interesting and life-changing experiences a human being can ever have, and lived through some great adventures on land and in the water.

Shown here with Kimokeo Kapahulehua

Which brings me back to the PR lady, whose fault all of this is! Like any other hotel, we have someone very knowledgeably handling our public relations efforts by name of Jaisy Jardine.  Jaisy, born and raised on Hawai`i Island, has obviously a good understanding of all things Hawaiian, and over the past couple of years she has offered me lots of support, particularly as it pertains to my Hawaiian adventures and all that I have had the great fortune to experience since coming to the state.

Jaisy is very much aware of how much I love Hawaiian outrigger canoe paddling and everything surrounding it, and she has been quite interested in a monumental canoe voyage I participated in, which spanned the entire Hawaiian archipelago, all 1,650 miles of it, from Hawai`i Island to Kure Atoll (I don't want to talk about all of that right now, but if you must know, visit www.familyofthewaa.com to get a glimpse).

Anyway, after two years of not paddling as part of an outrigger canoe club (after having done so on Maui with Kihei Canoe Club for 8 years), I made the decision to return in 2012 and make once again the commitment to paddle the entire canoe season with one of the local canoe clubs, from early May until mid-October. Jaisy thought that it would be a great idea for me to share some of this experience with some of you that are interested in such a thing, and have you follow along as we train and compete and in the process perpetuate the very essence of Hawaiian culture.

Through weekly writings, I will share the aches and pains, the trials and tribulations, the successes and disappointments and all that comes with paddling with a group of similar-age (mid-fifties), like-minded individuals, many of them local and native to these isles, with the occasional relative newcomer like me. I tried hard to fight her on the idea, but every so often, you have to give in and pretend that these ideas are worthwhile and great!

Which brings me to the title of this writing – “First Day of School”  Just a few short hours ago, in board shorts, with paddle and water bottle in hand, I find myself on this early Sunday morning on the pier in Kailua-Kona, looking for coach and steersman Kulani, the Samoan gentlemen who will integrate me into his team of paddlers who have committed themselves to "going all the way", which in paddling terms means going through short-distance regatta season, followed by long-distance races, culminating on October 7^th in the Moloka`i Hoe, the annual world championship of long-distance canoe paddling, going from the island of Moloka`i across one of the world's most treacherous bodies of water, the Ka`iwi Channel, to the island of O`ahu and finishing on world-famous Waikiki Beach. My “new team” has been paddling together for a few years, but this year they are in need of one more person, which right now is me. So here I am, paddle in hand, meeting the crew, trying to make a good first impression. If they don't like me, if I can't keep up with them, if my stroke is different than there's (something that is quite common as every canoe club uses a slightly different technique) or if any other of a dozen reasons why this couldn't work out comes true, then my 2012 canoe paddling season could be over before it even got started.

The immediate good news is that I locate the group, and that on first glance, they seem to be accepting of newcomers and gentle in spirit. Kulani turns out to be one of the finest souls on the beach, tough but with lots of drive and ambition to create a smooth paddling team that indeed can go all the way.

Sitting in seat 5 on my "first day of school"

And just like the first day of school, things happen quickly, one after the other, and before I know it, I am out of the water after my first team practice session in over two years, a bit tired and worn, but looking forward to the next training session.

So with all this background behind us, I kindly invite you to check back every so often as I will try to give you a glimpse into the life of an everyday man in Hawai`i who tries to make a living in his day-job while connecting with the true spirit of the island as a way of life in a local canoe club.

A hui hou - until we meet again.

Chris