Hui Waʻa Kaukahi

Nui a lehulehu na mokupuni, ʻaʻole lawa ka manawa

So many islands, so little time!

Author: Sandy Johnson

  • Circling Oʻahu

    Circling Oʻahu

    Story by Sandy Johnson

    April 29, 2025

    When I arrived in Hawaii in October, 2013 and joined Hui Waʻa Kaukahi I was new to kayaking and had only paddled a few times on lakes, a bay or a calm river. In my wildest imagination, I would never have considered paddling around the entire island! I started out with the easiest paddles in my inflatable kayak and heavy paddle, always at the back of the pack, and slowly gained strength and skills. I bought Seabands so I never felt queasy again. I took the skills and safety class from Kevin and Joe. I remember telling Kevin, “I really don’t want to tip over!” But he insisted I must learn to self rescue, so over I went.

    Just four months into my new hobby, I slipped and broke my wrist after a paddle out to the Mokes. I had been so careful hiking around the island and conscientiously paddled safely back, but walking was my (literal) downfall! I was out of the water for several months as I recovered from surgery. The first time I went out paddling after that was on a typically windy day and I had to use that wrist a lot as my rudderless boat was pushed away from the channel. I was tired and decided to just go directly in to get done with it when a wave picked me up, turned me sideways, and I tried bracing with my paddle (which I had just heard about as a technique). It worked! I stayed upright, even rode a second wave, and eventually made it to shore.

    I graduated to a hard shell kayak with a rudder, and a really nice carbon fiber paddle. What a difference that made! But I was still a newbie when it came to learning ocean conditions. My first attempt at launching from Mālaekahana to go around Kahuku Point was a disaster. I didn’t know enough to not go out in strong wind and rough surf. I was feeling proud of myself as I got over bigger and bigger swells, until I got to one that was too big, and breaking, and I tumbled around for a few waves, trying to hold onto my boat as I contemplated how to flip it over and get to my radio. I had not practiced self rescue with the new boat (big mistake, but the waves were furious and I may not have been able to anyway). Fortunately, my fellow club members came to the rescue, somehow hauled me onto the first boat I was near and I paddled in as quickly as I could with a left-handed paddle. Steve accompanied me to the beach, and miraculously had salvaged my prescription sunglasses and hat from the water! I was really scared of waves after that, and black and blue from the hard kayak, but I learned a lot that day, including some things I needed to work on. At the next Crash and Burn clinic, Eileen talked me through self rescue techniques on my new boat, which really helped my confidence to keep trying.

    So it may not surprise anyone that this same paddle didn’t make my list of things I wanted to do until it was the last one I needed to complete the circle. But first, almost ten years into kayaking, I braved up and took advantage of a beautiful day to go around Kaʻena Point. It was only Stan D and me and the conditions were magical. There were some very big swells but they were not breaking, and the water near the point was glassy. That was the first time I thought that maybe I could finish the whole circle. It took time, I think about a year and a half,  but I completed the points around Diamond Head, Weed Out The Wimps around Makapuʻu and Koko Head, and Barber’s Point plus a few shorter paddles to fill in my map. Then finally I was down to The Last Dreaded Paddle. 

    And herstory was made! It was not quite as calm as the Kaʻena Point day just two days earlier, but it was really good, and nothing like that nightmare day many years before which, by the way, turned out to have Small Craft Advisories and I was not the only one rescued. The next two weekends after I finished were windy and paddles were canceled, so my champagne celebration was held after the Tracks to Pōkaʻī Bay paddle on May 18th.

    I continue to learn about navigating the waves and reading weather conditions, but the confidence I’ve gained from pushing onward has helped make the experience much more enjoyable, and less scary. My advice to new paddlers: Don’t be afraid to ask questions! There are decades of experience amongst the members of the hui, and what you learn can make the difference between a fun day and a Not Fun day. Happy Paddling!

  • Ahu o Laka (Kāneʻohe sandbar)

    Ahu o Laka (Kāneʻohe sandbar)

    Story by Sandy Johnson

    March 2, 2025

    Seventeen paddlers showed up on March 2 to enjoy a leisurely paddle out to the sandbar in Kaneohe. We launched a little later than originally planned because low tide was around 10:30 a.m., which is a good time to be out there to walk around easily. Also, since I was chosen to be the paddle leader and had to pick up my sister at the airport late the night before, and my original co-leader was feeling poorly we made it an hour later (the perks of leadership).

    There were some trade winds that deterred some of us from snorkeling, and then regretting that we didn’t after hearing about all the cool undersea wildlife from those who did. Many honu, an eel, fish, are some of the things I remember hearing about. But it was a pleasant time to socialize in the water with all the paddlers, new and used/old to our hui.

  • A Tale of Two Paddles

    A Tale of Two Paddles

    Story by Sandy Johnson

    Photos by Terry Shimabukuro except as noted

    September 22, 2024

    The Autumnal Equinox on September 22 brought good weather to fulfill my quest to mark another paddle off my list, leaving just one more to complete my circumnavigation of O‘ahu. The Nimitz to Tracks paddle had been postponed a couple times due to unfriendly weather and I asked if it could be rescheduled just five days before. The usual suspects were game: President Steve, Vice President Bill, Webmaster Terry, and Faithful Leader of Many Paddles Stan D. 

    There was an intermittent shore break, so I watched Steve and Bill go out and waited for a lull. Bill got washed back in a couple times, but when I saw my chance I took off and kept going, thinking surely everyone would follow soon. I looked back occasionally, seeing no one near me, and finally got word over the radio that the waves had it out for Bill that day. He gave up a good fight after awhile (half an hour? More?) and swam to shore, leaving the other guys to get his boat onto the beach. Later Bill said, “Now I know why when those shipwrecked folks drag up the beach (they) just lay there.” Terry generously volunteered to forgo the paddle himself to drive Bill to the landing spot where his car was. (Note: in this situation, if the paddler is unharmed, the person with a car at the start could offer their keys and go on with the paddle to meet at the end.)

    So that was one version of the paddle. Mine was much better because after waiting quite some time out there (I had forgotten my phone in my car, so had no way to tell time or take photos), Stan caught up to me with Steve not far behind after he untangled his fishing line. The wind was at our backs and the waves were avoidable. 

    Two omilu papio
    Steve’s catch – photo by Steve

    It just goes to show you that one woman’s “easy” paddle is another man’s struggle for survival. The last paddle I need to finish my circumnavigation leaves from Mālaekahana, where I once crashed and burned and have been afraid to try again for several years, so I am waiting for good weather and to feel strong enough to brave it. When that happens, there will be champagne!

  • Pōkaʻī Bay to Mākua 2024

    Pōkaʻī Bay to Mākua 2024

    Story by Sandy Johnson

    July 28, 2024

    Four of us (Steve, Terry, Roger and I) arrived to a beautiful calm, sunny day at Pōkaʻī Bay for the July 28th paddle. As we ventured out of the bay the wind seemed to be guiding us along and all was well in the world. I noticed rain beginning over the mountains but other than a welcome cloud cover we never got more than a sprinkle on us.

    The wind, however, decided to change direction not far into the paddle, making it more of a challenge but still not too hard. Most of the way was fairly uneventful so we simply enjoyed the iconic Hawaiian scenery. The dolphins failed to escort us, or even show up, but we did see some honu.

    And then my paddle brought up some colorful string, like someone’s rainbow sweater had come unraveled in the ocean (thank you for that image, Roger). I began to pull one part, then the other, and got to the last of it in one direction while the other seemed endless. It seemed to take forever and I was starting to get bored, but I didn’t want to leave it floating in the ocean for any sealife to become entangled in it. Indeed, I heard an exhale behind me and turned to see a large honu checking us out. I like to think she was thanking us for clearing up the mess.

    Sandy handlines abandoned fishing line

    Terry suggested tying the line onto his fishing reel to speed up the process and I welcomed that idea. It filled up his reel to overflowing and there was still more! He eventually arrived at a floating plastic jug far from shore and worked at gathering up the rest of the mess before joining us to finish the trip. Steve had already removed a snarl of line further back. Typical do-gooders, saving the ocean one string at a time.

    After paddling about 7.5 miles we landed at Mākua Beach, dodging swimmers and smallish waves, feeling pretty good about it all.

  • Weed Out the Wimps 2024

    Weed Out the Wimps 2024

    Cover photo and story by Sandy Johnson

    February 22, 2024

    The annual Weed Out the Wimps paddle was sure to be canceled due to the high wind forecast until Terry saw that the Thursday before might work. I was anxious to mark this one on my map as I had not done it before. It came down to showing up that morning and making the decision to give it a go. The wind had shifted again and we were back to the original launch site at Makai Pier. Our leader, Steve, had doctor’s orders not to go in the water so he sadly helped with the carpool instead and Bill watched over our boats until we returned. It was an unofficial paddle since we had no paperwork with us.

    By the time we launched, maybe close to 10 am, the whitecaps were showing, but it still didn’t feel that bad until we three intrepid paddlers (Eileen, Stan D. and I) got out past the Makai Pier. Stan’s radio was not working despite charging overnight so he communicated with his whistle and paddle signals. The wind increased as we continued and it was quite a challenge to get over to and out around the Makapu’u lighthouse. I seriously considered turning back when I felt like I wasn’t going forward and the swells increased. Was it worth it? Stan reminded me that once we got around the point the wind would be at our backs most of the way. Good ol’ encouraging Stan! He told me later he was 50% sure I was going to quit at that point!

    We made it past the hardest part and lived to tell the tale. Now I know why sailors swear a lot. The choppy waves and recoil off the cliffs kept us saturated and on high alert but we did not huli or stop to take photos! I saw one magnificent whale tail in between swells blocking my view. It became almost calm as the wind pushed us toward our destination. Stan had stayed near me but we didn’t catch up to Eileen until the end, despite her attempts to go slowly. The washing machine turbulence started up again as we approached Koko Head and persevered around that point, but not nearly as bad. We navigated the breaking waves into the calm close to shore to finish our paddle with a smile and the usual groans as we attempted to stand up. Eileen had made the unique choice of crossing the reef instead and was rewarded with some water time.

    That day,the 22nd of February, would have been my dad’s 95th birthday if he had lived 60 more years. I bet he would’ve been proud of me, I know my mom is.