JackMcCoy

CERTAIN PEOPLE

I was straining to see any white water on the reefs as we drove in the morning darkness. I was thinking that I might have blown it. I would not be able to get another flight back to Australia for a couple of days, well past my starting date for my next job. Vetea "Poto" David, the classic Tahitian surfing ambassador, was taking a hundred miles an hour non stop. He was covering a range of subjects from video cameras to the responsibility of being an elder statesman for surfing in Tahiti. This wouldn't have worried me too much, except that he was looking at me 90% of the time. Since he was driving, I found this a bit unsettling. No matter how much I told him to keep his eyes on the road, he just kept talking. And talking, and looking at me.

It was 6 am and still dark. Poto's son was in the back seat asleep. I had missed my flight back to Australia a mere 4 hours earlier on purpose. Just as Laird and his tow partner Nelson Kubach had done the night before. Despite having another major filming commitment, I was drawn to stay and see what the surf would be like this morning. We had been here two weeks and already had had a great trip.

I found myself this early am in Poto's truck towing the two jet ski's. Normally Laird would drive the extremely wide trailer because Poto didn't trust his driving the beast of a rig. This was the first time in two and a half weeks that Poto had driven. For some reason Nelly and Laird went together in the Van and I was riding shot gun for the Tahitian.

As Poto was scarring the shit out of me with his driving, Laird and Nelson, were only a few minutes ahead of us in the Van. They were blasting what they like to call "Big Wave" music. Recalled Nellson, "On that drive out there Laird was amping. He cranked the music so loud he blew out the speakers in our new rent-a-truck. He kept saying 'It's bigger today. It's bigger today'. He loves to say that because that's what he lives for."

After dropping his son with his grandma, Poto and I drove off to meet up with the rest of our group. The others consisted of Oxbow stills photographer Tim Mckenna, French writer and playboy extraordinaire Benji, and local news cameraman Gilles plus a few other Oxbow sponsored windsurfers including world # 1 wave sailor Jason Policow, and their friends. It was a rather large contingent. Much larger than Laird, or myself for that matter, would have liked to have been traveling with. However we'd been thru the drill several times on the days before now and everyone knew what was going on and what to do.

This was an Oxbow shoot that seemed could not go wrong. We'd been here two weeks already and had scored fantastic surf almost everyday. I already had one of the best surf trips "in the can" as they say. Laird was definitely the main attraction. His complete waterman ability shone thru everyday from towing in on a Sunset type right to a Pipe type left. He'd ridden his 12 foot x 24 in wide by 5 inch thick tanker like it was a toy. He'd busted out his latest invention, the "Air Board" (that's another story) on the first day and had blown all of our minds with what will be the tool/toy to help him ride even bigger surf than he already has.

But on this day, a day that Laird, Nelson and I had planned NOT to be still be in Tahiti, would turn out to be the day of days. A day that none of us who were present will ever forget. When I think back now, I realize that all of us were meant to be there in a much larger picture than I for one, knew at the time. I know now that that is the only place on earth I'd want to be on that day.

After an hours drive we came to Teachpoo, the sleepy town at the end of the road. The surf spot that the international surfing media has gone gaga over for the past couple of years. As we passed the public boat ramp I saw all of our group unloading the gear into what I thought was our usual boat. Poto and I continued down the road where Laird and Nelson were parked. It was clear now in the morning haze that the surf was big. Really really BIG. For me it looked like it was closing out. It's tough because from the beach you can't tell where the bottom of the wave is because it's below visual sea level. At first I was a bit bummed because I thought now we'd have no where to surf. Just then a monster blew it's guts out in a big spit.

Walking over to the truck Laird, seemed to have a calmness that I'd never seen before. I mean you could tell he was excited, but he had a focus trance inside himself that I picked up on straight away. "It's closing out. It's too big," I said. He smiled and said to get ready. We would go out there and check it. I told him that the boat was there and the lads were loading up. We drove back to where everyone else was.

Back at the dock, it turned out that that our boat had not yet arrived. Tim, who'd organized the entire trip was internally hemorrhaging because the two boats we'd chartered over the past two weeks were not in sight. Being the producer of this trip had been taxing on the lensman but he'd put together and held together what could only be described as an exceptional trip.

Everyone was milling around the dock. Outside about a klm, big bombs were going off on the reef. It took a long time for the lip to land before exploding, imploding and blasting skywards. It was as big as we'd seen it. The excitement in the air was electric.

Next to the dock a small tin boat had filled up with water from the hightide swell surge that had made it's way all the way to the beach overnight. Soon a smiling Tahitian fisherman who lived across the street casually came over and checked out his boat. His wife and small child were not far behind him. As this large circus milled around, before we knew it the guy dropped his pants and in his undies jumped into waist deep water and muscled the boat upright himself. He passed the motor to Jason's mate Risarios who started taking it apart.

Across a little creek in the next property south Laird, Nelson and Poto were using a private yard to launch the ski's. "Half Tank" as we called Poto, was zooming around still talking. Laird had gone down and bought a case of beer for Ben and his family to show his appreciation for letting us use his yard to launch the ski's.

This space allowed Laird to get ready in his own way. I could see thru the bushes that he was checking ALL equipment. Checking then rechecking again and again. On days like this, as only a waterman with his experience knows, you cannot be over prepared.

Tim had made a phone call and found out that the boats had left. But where were they? Without them it would be only be Laird, Nelly, Poto and I on the skis heading out there. I would have to take the video camera and one movie camera. I really wanted all of my gear out there. More film, another housing, batteries, additional cameras etc etc. All the tools of my trade instead of the bare necessities. I decided there and then to let it all flow and see what unfolds.

After making all the settings necessary, I closed up the water housings and put the rest of my gear in one spot on the dock for loading on the boat when and if they came. After issuing what must have sounded like a broken record, "don't touch the front of the camera port" instructions, I went into the inner sanctum of the yard next door.

The ski's were in the water and soon after the I saw our two boats turn up. The channel that they had to come thru was almost closing out and they spent a long time deciding if and when to try and get out for the two hour drive south where we were waiting. If they would not have been able to get out, the coverage we ended up getting would have been rather thin. Go with the flow.

Laird took his jet ski out from our ramp and around to the dock. He surveyed the scene calmly and issued a couple of instructions to Tim and others. It was sort of his way of saying "places everyone". He then came back next door where Poto was almost ready. You learn from working with Laird to not keep him waiting, especially on days like this. I felt good as I was happily standing by to ready to launch. I was wondering what was going thru his mind. It was obvious again to me how calm externally he was.

We were finally ready. Just then I saw our two boats drive by our launch ramp. Everyone on those two boats were looking straight ahead. I have this vision of Tim in his Indiana Jones trademark hat charging out to sea. None of them even noticed us as they headed up the channel and to the end of the reef. Just then Poto announced that we had to wait and so he could get his sunglasses. Being the professional surfer that he is, he knew this was going to be an important day, and with all the pictures taken of him, he wanted to look after his sponsor. Maybe there were some extra "show me the money" bucks involved in photo incentives. Whatever, he wanted his sunnies.

As he ran back to his truck he let out a groan. He'd locked his keys inside. I thought "forget it Poto" but he was doing donuts around the car. Laird walked over and had a good look at the untimely situation. It was at that moment that the soft caring understanding Laird Hamilton came to surface at a time I'd least expected it. Knowing that it was important to Poto, who had been so helpful and hospitable to us during our stay, he was going to have a go at breaking in here and now.

He causally asked for a coat hanger. Poto was too distressed to help so I came into the picture to help peel the top of the door open enough for Laird to try and hook the door handle. 5 minutes later and with no success, he asked for another coathanger. After braiding the two together he decided he'd go for the keys themselves sitting in the ignition on the other side of the car. This wasn't just a truck key. This was every key Poto owned, about a dozen or so, also tangled up with a fin key, a nose guard, and a couple of other collectables hanging as a tennis ball sized lump. Mission Impossible I was calling, knowing that there were waves with Lairds name on them going off out on the reef.

With the skill of a surgeon, Laird carefully and skillfully hooked a small ring and like a kid trying to get the toy in those amusement games to the slot, pulled it off in record time. I couldn't believe it. The MAN was ON and just proved it. We had a good laugh about it and then the four of us jumped on the skis and off we went. Poto grinning from ear to ear.

The air was very still, and yet the channel was rough and lumpy. Lots of weed had been pulled off the bottom and sat on the surface like brown flat islands all around us. When we got to the line up the gang in the two boats were blabbering about how big and sick it was. Just then a set approached. From the back of the ski driven by Poto, I saw a wave unload on the reef unlike anything I'd ever seen in all my years of surfing. It was a low tide monster that pulled the water over the reef like someone had pulled the bath tub plug. It was radical.

Laird gave the signal to Poto and I and we went outside and gathered for what had been the ritual every other day as standard procedure. With the two skis close together, the 4 of us gave thanks and praises for the day, what was happening and asked for the safety of all. Having spent so much time seeing the world from a perspective very few, if any have ever seen, it is easy to understand how spiritual a person Laird really is. "Amen" he says, raises his head and gives us a big smile. Then he's off to fulfill his date with destiny.

Poto then takes me down into what he calls the VIP seat. Although I have the utmost respect for Poto and his knowledge of the break (days before he'd shown me every rock and crack he knew and what part it played in the way the wave breaks) I was uncomfortable with where we were sitting. Although having seen some big water in my day, I'd never seen such a powerful display of wave energy and unload so dramatically in such shallow water. I wasn't too sure if I wanted the VIP seat. If I'd been thrown off the back by one of Potos many unannounced take offs, I may have had a confrontation with what Laird would later describe as a "man eating dinosaur".

Our main photographers boat was sitting way inside the keyhole not far from where I was. I wondered if I wouldn't be better in with Tim Benjamin, Gilles and Rosario, but realized that I wanted a different perspective. I'd stick with Poto. Just then I got a glimpse of Nelson heading for us and knew this meant Laird was about to get whipped in.

The wave they'd chosen as their first was not that big, and I could tell right away from where I was sitting that Ûsomething was not right. They were not in the right spot. At the last moment Laird didn't let go and Nelson pulled him over the back. I could tell that he was not a happy chappy.

I videoed that wave and it looked unrideable as it drained and went thick insideout. The next one was the same and we all got great dramatic shot's of how full on the waves would be on that day. Outside, waiting for another set was the man. Still fuming about missing that first wave.

"He was upset," said Nelly. "We were just not in the right place, but basically he was so adrellenized and so excited. He wanted it bad. We wanted it bad, and when we didn't have it together on that first wave it made him want it even more. Now he was really on edge ... amping ... He knew it was coming. We went out the back and had a little pow wow about it. We went over our game plan again."

What was the game plan?, I asked later. "The plan was to focus. Be aware of everything. The the current, the boats, Jack on the ski with Poto. The line up was different than on the other days. Focus was the main thing and to be ready because we knew they would be looming out of the blue. They were out there ... we just had to focus," said Nelson.

Laird remembers differently "Nelson was the one not taking instructions. It was the first wave of the new swell, He was apprehensive, he went left and instead of going right. I was mentally, physically, and emotionally ready to go over that ledge ... ready set go ... now stop. He ignored my wishes. He pulled back. He had mentally been prepared to go over that ledge, ready set go ... now stop. When we went back outside to wait for another wave and I told him not to worry, just do what you've been trained to do."

The next two waves were small. I'd call them in the 8 ft range and Laird just cruised on them. They were what I'll call his stretching exercises for the morning. He did his patented layback tube ride on one that he seemed very relaxed on. Finally at 8:15 he caught his third wave and this one was a macker.

It would have to be in the 12 ft. range. It is difficult to call the wave sizes, and from now on let me just say that I'll call them the way Laird and Darrick call them. Please know however, that any other human would not be so shy to put several more feet on the size.

But no matter what you wanted to call this one wave, it was big and it was thick. Laird was being whipped into it way over from where any paddle surfer would have attempted. Paddling in on these monsters would never have been considered from the zone Laird was starting from 60 80 100 yards further inside, I don't know, but it was way back there. On this one wave he flew like the wind just in front of the thick lip. One mistake would have resulted in severe injury or death. He rode it perfectly and as he came flying out into the key hole where we were sitting (me shitting), he let out an audible sigh of relief, looked me in the eyes and gave me a little shaka before being immediately picked up by Nelson and towed out the back.

The peanut gallery in the boat was going nuts. Looking back to the valleys that remind me so much of the mountain range of Kailua, Oahu, where I grew up, the morning mist was burning off into a beautiful sunny day. The ocean was still glassy and the wind light off shore. You couldn't have asked for cleaner conditions. After that ride I knew we were in for a great show.

At 8:45 Darrick Doerner and Raimana's boat arrived. They had several others surfers and their girlfriends on board. They were just in time to see Laird get a fat one. Darick says, "When we pulled up in the channel I saw my friend Nelson tow Laird into a good one. It was a antman version of Jaws. Jaws is a 100 feet up by 50 feet wide, and this was 15 ft up, but a 150 ft wide and he was standing there right in the eye and he came out. No one else could have done that."

He continued, "The day before as the swell was coming up I got extreme donuts trying to commitment myself deep. But on this day I was real careful. When I saw Laird pull into that first wave from 100 yards back in the barrel there was nothing I could do except play it extremely safe cause the show was in his hands. All I wanted to do was go home and see my son." Shortly thereafter Arsene and Terry Domenech pulled up. A couple of other spectator craft also arrived.

One boat was Pension Bonjouir who had found my helmet floating on top of one of those islands of weed a week after loosing it and my fins off the back of the jet ski. The gentleman in the boat was a keen spectator, but the lady in the boat only looked up a couple of times, more engrossed in reading the morning newspaper.

Jason Polakow, also a very keen surfer, was amping to get out there. He swam from our second boat, the one that we kept all the surfboards and spectators on, to the photographers boat to get closer to the action, and was asking Poto to tow him into a couple. Just then Laird got one too far back and ate it big time. There was an anxious few moments before he popped up. Nelson was quick to pick up, but another wave was on top of him and Nelly had to escape. Laird ducked another one in the impact zone. Nelson came back in for the pick up. REAL TV was never as exciting as this.

On another wave it was so critical, so thick, and so close to him getting smashed at the very end, I freaked. I was so scared for HIM I took my camera away from my eye to get a better look. "Oh no!," I thought..."he's going to be killed." Just then he leaned further into the "faster than a speeding bullet position" and came out. Whew, I finally took a breath. Sitting outside waiting for another set, he told Nelson that he knew he was in a critical spot because he watched my face change. How all that could be going on around him and he still have time to notice me shitting for him is beyond me. I guess with all that adrenalin racing around inside him and with his years of experience and awareness it's just second nature to be that on top of things.

He took another wave and was caught too deep inside again resulting in another wipeout. This time he touched, or as Laird explains, "kissed the reef. I didn't get smashed onto the reef, just a little kiss to let me know she was there." The kiss resulted in tiger paw like scratches on 8 parts of his body. His rash vest was torn, his shorts pocket ripped and he'd gotten a blow to the ankle that he did not start to feel sore till we got home later that night which resulted in a good limp and swelling the following days.

But there and then he felt nothing. Just stoke and focus.

9:30 am and he got another fat one. He was getting more and more out of each ride. He then came into the spectator boat to have a rest. I rewound my video tape from the first couple of waves that morning and put the camera's eyepiece to his eye to look. He hardly noticed what it was I was trying to show him. He wasn't interested in what had happened. He was pumped up into what was happening and focusing on what was to come.

After a drink of water he jumped on the ski and started towing guys in. He made sure that they all had the buoyancy vests on. If you got knocked out you'd still float to the surface. Without them you might never be found.

He yanked Raimana, Makua Rothman, Nainoa Suratt, and double D. Raimana, without the aid of footstraps was charging. He is such an amazing waterman in his own right. Double was doing more weaving on the face than anyone and put on a big smile after a couple of great rides. Makua got a couple of medium ones and Nainoa got the rookie wave of the day. Unfortunately I don't think anyone in our group got the shot it in all the excitement. I was in the middle of reloading and watched it. Brian, you would have been proud. Jason also got his chance. After a couple small ones he got yanked into a beast and did not stay low enough on the face and got pitched. Fortunately he only broke his board, not his body. He went back out and got another couple with Nellys needle and did really well.

One other side show that day. A young surfer from Maui, who actually paddled out from the beach, watched for half an hour and then paddled into the break. Although sitting on the shoulder, a large hoot of encouragement came over the peanut gallery as he paddled for one. We were all wishing him into it. His name was Jerris Cannon and he got a couple of pull in tubes that had us all stoked. He came in right after the second one and said he just had to go do it. He was very cool and had a twinkle in his eye as he paddled past.

At 10:25 Laird is ready to hit the water again for his second session. Again he grabs his 6'10" balsa tow board made by his father Bill. The same tow board he has ridden during the whole trip. Says Laird, "I ride the best equipment I can find. It doesn't matter who's made it, as long as it's the best I can get in the evolution of towing. Jimmy Lewis, Dick Brewer, and Gerry Lopez have all made me great equipment. At the moment this board is working really well."

Nelson decides to hang in the board boat and watch his good friend surf a few waves from front on. DD takes the reigns and heads out the back towing his old mate. It's been awhile since DD and Laird have towed together and it's a stoker for them both. Once again the ocean raised it's energy level to throw what it could at this man born and bred to ride these waves. The man who helped create this sport within a sport so that what was once seen as unrideable, is now his own playground. He rode flawlessly again and again. There were some great waves and great rides. Each skillfully ridden to perfection.

At exactly 11:30 am the ocean raised itself to another level altogether. This was a wave with more height and thickness than any other that had come thru. Laird was whipped in very deep inside and would ride tucked into a speed stance with his back foot pushing down, and his front foot pulling up. The last thing he wanted to do was get sucked up the face. It was big and it was critical.

Says Laird, "The wave determined your positioning and how deep you were allowed to be. It just kept pushing me away I just remember trying to sit down at the bottom of the wave, way down on the flat and trying to keep myself from getting sucked up the face, that was the objective, not to get sucked up the face. There was so much water coming up the face that the job to finish the ride was just to keep the board pointed to the channel."

This wave, although not at tall as the next one, was the most intense of the day. After reviewing the taped footage Laird agreed that was the skitzy one. I shot almost one whole roll of film at 200 frames per second (very slo Motion) on that wave. That's a first for me. I couldn't imagine anything bigger or better. Poto was amping for a surf and I had a shot I knew was going to be great. I went back to our board boat to change water camera's. I pulled out the video camera in case something happened while I was reloading the film camera.

Exactly 5 minutes later I looked up and another thick wave was standing up and Laird and was chasing it down. It was slightly bigger than the one 5 minutes ago, and he was even deeper than before. He seemed like miles up the reef from where the normal paddle in take off spot is. This was unbelievable. Another huge one straight away, but the Man was right there in the right spot at the right time.

Taking a long drop, his extended arcing bottom turn takes him and our sport into a zone that up until now has only been seen in cartoons. This wave is such a huge wall of water, so big and so thick, and yet so PERFECT. The curl line is so clean and straight it looks like a drawing. And there is this little speck charging for his life doing what none of us ever imagined possible. The time stands still for that fraction of a second where the wave comes over him and he disappears from sight in the misty implosion. Behind him, his tracks on the wave go over the falls into what looks like liquid napalm.

Laird comes flying out of the mist and right around the other side of the photographers boat. The skipper Emele, luckily pulls his craft over the huge deep water swell in the nick of time. Laird had to duck dive the second one before being picked up by DD.

Nelson was in our "board boat" with me. He had not seen Laird surfing from the front of a wave in a long time. Nells sure picked a couple of insane waves to watch. He was jumping out of his skin he was that stoked. People were screaming, jumping up and down. At one stage all on Raimana's boat started bowing down to him as he went past. High five to Raimana who nearly fell out of the boat making sure he slapped the mans hand on the way thru. More cheering and hooting among us all.

Laird caught a couple of playful waves and then came into the boat I was on. His first thoughts expressed were "We were expecting heavy, but not that heavy. That big one was for you Nelson." The many years of working together on the whole tow thing had come together for not only rider, but for his partner and his humility to share the moment with his friend was a sign of just that. A good friend. Nelson was honored.

The emotion of the day, the tension, the excitement and the relief of pulling off such an amazing feat was so strong he put his face in his hands and a few tears were shed. He raised his head after several minutes and said, "You know those guys who win those big tournament's or a big championship, and they cry ... well now I can relate."

He went on to say, "This day was the apex of what tow surfing is all about. You know when we talk about really big surf, we talk about survival riding and this for me was survival riding to the max. It was total focus and you can only ride so many."

'I've ridden some big waves and been in some heavy situations, but this is one of the biggest situations I've ever been involved with and to ride a few like those waves, wow, they were some of the most exceptional rides of my life. They were at the limit. I felt that if one little hair broke that everything would let go and I'd be smashed to death.'

"But tow surfing allows you to position yourself, especially with the equipment that has evolved, to put yourself in places on waves that you wouldn't be able necessarily to manually put yourself into. If you did you would never set the line that you do with tow surfing. This is the sort of day where towing is really efficient. You can catch waves that no one else wants to know about. All the other days are just preparation, in anticipation of days that climax in days like this. You could try and paddle in, but I know you couldn't come from that far back. I'm not interested in even trying. Why would you when you could be whipped into the ride of your life."

This whole time Poto was playing water safety and my camera platform driver. He was spinning his wheels amping to get out there surfing and I couldn't blame him. He hung in there and I can only thank him again for helping me capture an amazing day. He was able to get into a couple of giant waves at the end before the wind blew it out. The first North wind that we'd seen during the whole trip. They were big bombs and he rode them in his flamboyant style. Later I was able to see some vision of Poto riding another spot that looked just as big as the waves Laird rode. I have no doubt that given the right conditions and now with the shared experience of Laird, Nelson, and DD those Tahitian legends will be charging everytime it's looking clean and mean. It was a mutual turn on for both Hawaiians and Tahitians. The shared Mana.

Laird spent the last part of this amazing session yanking Arsene into half a dozen waves. Two of them were exceptional. Looking like George Seupate (Fiji's coup leader) with his bald head, he was over the moon with the waves he rode.

How important was this day in surfing history. Although coming from one of the insiders of the "big wave club", I think Darick said it best when he said a day later.

"It comes back from where it all started ... 'You can't catch a freight train riding a bicycle.' You have to match power with power ... I don't care who you think you are, your not going to paddle in where the Kid was taking off. Even if some say it can be done, lets see it. Well we are not too worried about what there doing, we're doing what we are doing and that is match the power with the power".

"Every spot has it's variety and this is one of the most intense tow surfing spots. You have Jaws, and Outside reefs of Oahu Maui and Kauai. This place for where we've come from to where we are right now is really the pinnacle The doors been unlocked and the door is wide open right now. It widens our horizons. That's the really exciting thing for us. But you have to be certain people to try and match Lairds capabilities and there's no one who can do it. He is by far more capable than anyone else in the world. He trains for it, he's mentally prepared ... talk no shit, won't be no shit common down lets see you do it. What he did that day, the lines he drew, no one else in their right mind could do it." AMEN

What makes a surfer want to get slung into such a beast, or as Laird says "a man eater". Asked why he said he didn't know why. He felt it was subconscious information, something deep inside that he was not even aware of yet. A good sign that he's still learning.

Laird Hamilton will take his rightful place in surfing history as a living legend in the tradition of the classic waterman. When you think of what he's already done in his life and what he excitedly talks about for the future, I believe he will be there with Tom Blake, Pete Peterson, Tarzan Smith and maybe right up there with the Duke himself. In my opinion, he is definitely in that exclusive class of CERTAIN PEOPLE. For the 27 of us who were fortunate to be a the right place at the right time, I think I can speak for all of them when I say we all felt very humbled and proud. Proud to have been there and very proud of Laird and what he did. It was easily, THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH.

Post Script

A week after THE DAY I got an email off of Lairds dad Bill Hamilton, the 60's surfing legend stylist. The man who lovingly crafted the most beautiful tool used to ride this history making wave. A 6'10" surfboard that Laird called the best tow board he has. The email said, "Laird is mentally and emotionly DRAINED!!! Please send me a picture of why?" I immediately posted a tape of the footage to the proud father and Laird, and then called him to let him know that footage was on it's way. "You know Jack," he told me, "life goes on, but each time I think about that session"....he paused and took a breath,...." I take some deep breaths. It really was an amazing day. I want to go again. Keep an eye on those lows down in Oz for me,...... when you see a really really big one, let me know and I'll meet you down there.'

I'm standing by.

by jack mccoy

Thanks to ASL, Tim McKenna, Oxbow and Surfer.