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chapter 41 Seven Weeks in Hawaii (1917) M. Leola Crawford M. Leola Crawford’s short description of surfriding with Duke Kahanamoku provides a glimpse into the sport’s popularity and growth along with Hawai‘i’s tourist industry. In the post–Jack London era at Waikîkî— a place that created the modern, carefree image of surfers and served as surfriding’s Mecca until World War II—visitors no longer simply watched surfriding but paddled out in the waves themselves. This was made possible on a large scale through the instruction and surveillance of the Waikîkî beachboys, who probably began working informally after the first major resort, the Moana Hotel, opened in 1901. The first organized beach service began around 1915 under the leadership of part-Hawaiian Dude Miller. The same year Crawford published Seven Weeks in Hawaii, Kahanamoku joined the Outrigger Canoe Club.4 Kahanamoku’s fame as an Olympic swimmer allowed him to break down some racial barriers in the Islands and hold membership in both the Outrigger and Hui Nalu. Tourists like Crawford flocked to have their pictures taken with him and his surfboard, spreading the fame of Waikîkî around the world. Although more of a goodwill ambassador for the Islands than a professional beachboy, Kahanamoku shows here how the beachboys instructed, charmed, massaged, and rescued surfriding tourists in the waves, all for little or no pay. Although the beachboys were responsible for spreading the enthusiasm for surfriding throughout the first half of the twentieth century (and continue to do so today), most of them endured lives of poverty as second-class citizens. a t t h r e e o ’c l o c k t h e y d r o p p e d m e out at Waikiki, where I had an appointment to go riding in an outrigger canoe. We had engaged the services of the champion swimmer of the world to guide our boat. His name is Duke Kahanamoku. He carried the honors at the Olympic Games in Stockholm—one hundred yards in fifty-five and one-fifth seconds. He is a splendid looking fellow, about six feet tall and dark as an Indian. I sat 151 directly in front of him in the boat, and he told me many interesting things about the fishes and the coral, and offered to teach me to ride the surfboard . I told him I would love to learn if I could keep from getting wet. He thought this a great joke, and when we finally returned, before I knew it, this Duke was carrying me to shore “to keep the lady from getting wet” as he said, and how he laughed and showed his pearly white teeth. I am quite fond of “the Duke”! . . . TRULY, “The way of the transgressor is hard!” My muscles are so sore that I can scarcely bend; my fingers so stiff that it is with difficulty I move my pen. Yea, verily, “Every rose has its thorn.” It came about thusly: A surf-board party was arranged for yesterday morning, to be superintended by Duke Kahanamoku (the champion swimmer). We met on the beach at eleven, and were each presented with a surf-board, upon which we lay flat, face down, our feet sticking over the square end, our chins resting on the board some twenty inches short of the pointed end. In this position the feet act as propeller, the hands as balancing power. Paddling far out we would wait for a wave and as it fell we were caught in its milky surf and washed with lightning speed to the beach. This is surely a reckless sport but, O, the wild joy of it! Even its dangers are fascinating, and after a few lessons from Duke I decided to venture alone. The frightful speed and driving spray caused me to close my eyes, so that I was unable to see an outrigger boat just ahead, and the collision introduced me to the coral reefs below. I rose! Duke reached the spot, clutched me by the back and spreading me out upon a surf-board gave me the famous Hawaiian lomi-lomi. This kind of rough massage, a sort of drubbing, which, though severe, is certainly effective, and in a few minutes I was able to join the party as good as new. Though our enthusiasm never for a moment waned, after two hours of this strenuous exercise our physical forces refused to act, so bidding...

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