It was a day of heavy surf on Waikiki. In the _wahine_ surf it was
boisterous enough for good swimmers. But out beyond, in the _kanaka_, or
man, surf, no one ventured. Not that the score or more of young
surf-riders loafing on the beach could not venture there, or were afraid
to venture there; but because their biggest outrigger canoes would have
been swamped, and their surf-boards would have been overwhelmed in the
too-immense over-topple and down-fall of the thundering monsters. They
themselves, most of them, could have swum, for man can swim through
breakers which canoes and surf-boards cannot surmount; but to ride the
backs of the waves, rise out of the foam to stand full length in the air
above, and with heels winged with the swiftness of horses to fly
shoreward, was what made sport for them and brought them out from
Honolulu to Waikiki.
The captain of Number Nine canoe, himself a charter member of the
Outrigger and a many-times medallist in long-distance swimming, had
missed seeing the Bartons take the water, and first glimpsed them beyond
the last festoon of bathers clinging to the life-lines. From then on,
from his vantage of the upstairs _lanai_, he kept his eyes on them. When
they continued out past the steel diving-stage where a few of the
hardiest divers disported, he muttered vexedly under his breath “damned
_malahinis_!”
Now _malahini_ means new-comer, tender-foot; and, despite the prettiness
of their stroke, he knew that none except _malahinis_ would venture into
the racing channel beyond the diving-stage. Hence the vexation of the
captain of Number Nine. He descended to the beach, with a low word here
and there picked a crew of the strongest surfers, and returned to the
_lanai_ with a pair of binoculars. Quite casually, the crew, six of
them, carried Number Nine to the water’s edge, saw paddles and everything
in order for a quick launching, and lolled about carelessly on the sand.
They were guilty of not advertising that anything untoward was afoot,
although they did steal glances up to their captain straining through the
binoculars.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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