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chapter 36 The Hawaiian Archipelago: Six Months among the Palm Groves, Coral Reefs and Volcanoes of the Sandwich Islands (1875) Isabella Bird 1831–1904 An Englishwoman, Isabella Bird arrived in Hawai‘i in January 1873 and remained until August of that year. She traveled extensively in her lifetime to combat chronic illness, visiting Australia, California, Colorado, Japan, China, and the Malay Peninsula. Bird wrote prolifically about her adventures, and her travel narratives were immensely popular during her lifetime and reprinted in numerous editions. The passage here throws into relief the problem of relying on personal narratives to gauge the state of surfriding in the latter half of the nineteenth century: her account appears entirely derived from previously published sources, notably those of missionary William Ellis and Charles Nordhoff.27 She could well have seen an exhibition of surfriding during her time in the Islands, yet her narrative does not give the impression of an accurate firsthand account. In prose worthy of Jack London, Bird paints a scene of exotic danger, triumphant natives, and cheering crowds on the beaches of Hilo.28 Ellis’s influence renders much of her imagery of surfriding fifty years out of date, a portrait designed to capture a traveler’s dream of the South Pacific rather than the realities of native life. Hilo, Hawai‘i February, 1873 I had written thus far when Mr. Severance came in to say that a grand display of the national sport of surf-bathing was going on, and a large party of us went down to the beach for two hours to enjoy it.29 It is really a most exciting pastime, and in a rough sea requires immense nerve. The surf-board is a tough plank shaped like a coffin lid, about two feet broad, and from six to nine feet long, well oiled and cared for. It is usu120 ally made of the erythrina, or the breadfruit tree. The surf was very heavy and favourable, and legions of natives were swimming and splashing in the sea, though not more than forty had their Papa-he-nalu, or “wave sliding boards,” with them. The men, dressed only in malos, carrying their boards under their arms, waded out from some rocks on which the sea was breaking , and, pushing their boards before them, swam out to the first line of breakers, and then diving down were seen no more till they reappeared as a number of black heads bobbing about like corks in smooth water half a mile from shore. What they seek is a very high roller, on the top of which they leap from behind, lying face downwards on their boards. As the wave speeds on, and the bottom strikes the ground, the top breaks into a huge comber. The swimmers appeared posing themselves on its highest edge by dexterous movements of their hands and feet, keeping just at the top of the curl, but always apparently coming down hill with a slanting motion. So they rode in majestically, always just ahead of the breaker, carried shorewards by its mighty impulse at the rate of forty miles an hour, yet seeming to have a volition of their own, as the more daring riders knelt and even stood on their surf-boards, waving their arms and uttering exultant cries. They were always apparently on the verge of engulfment by the fierce breaker whose towering white crest was ever above and just behind them, but when one expected to see them dashed to pieces, they either waded quietly ashore, or sliding off their boards, dived under the surf, taking advantage of the undertow, and were next seen far out to sea preparing for fresh exploits. The great art seems to be to mount the roller precisely at the right time, and to keep exactly on its curl just before it breaks. Two or three athletes, who stood erect on their boards as they swept exultingly shorewards , were received with ringing cheers by the crowd. Many of the less expert failed to throw themselves on the crest, and slid back into smooth water, or were caught in the combers, which were fully ten feet high, and after being rolled over and over, ignominiously disappeared amidst roars of laughter, and shouts from the shore. At first I held my breath in terror , and then in a few seconds I saw the dark heads of the objects of my anxiety bobbing about behind the rollers waiting for another chance. The shore was thronged...

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