Earlier this spring (2016) in Maui, the GA / Tabou team, along with infiltrator Timo Mullen,  clocked into a surprise late season session at Jaws. The forecast medium sized swell by far exceeded expectations and late in the afternoon there was a golden hour, when the waves pumped over six metres and six lucky sailors scored a rare uncrowded session. John Carter and Graham Ezzy report on a lucky day at Pe’ahi.

Words  John Carter & Graham Ezzy  // 

Photos  John Carter

Originally published within the October ’16 edition.

OPEN MINDED
JC – One thing I have learned about Maui over the years is that you never know what the Pacific Ocean is going to throw at you. On one hand there can be all sorts of expectations and excitement about a massive swell looming but come the day, for one reason or another nothing develops. On the other side of the coin a mediocre swell can be predicted but all of a sudden it can pulse from logo high to mast and a half in a matter of hours. Back in the spring of 2016 we were in the midst of the GA photo shoot when such a day took Maui by surprise.

The fact there was a swell forecast was not in question. Windguru was giving around 2.3m at 14 seconds, which in my books normally means a pretty solid day at Ho’okipa. I drove up the Hana Highway first thing to check and at 7am there were absolutely zero waves rolling in on any of the reefs from Mama’s all the way up to Ho’okipa. With that in mind we made the decision to head down to Sprecks in the morning to finish off some urgently needed race and freeride shots before reconvening at Ho’okipa at three to catch the premium session on the rising swell.
By noon, I was kind of regretting the earlier call to spend the morning down the coast since during the course of a matter of hours the swell had kicked in and was already mast high and grinding. A quick chat with Thomas Traversa confirmed that the early session as the swell kicked in was all time with just a couple of guys out and the perfect size for water shots. By 1pm some of the sets were already closing across the channel next to the rocks and the likes of Jason Polakow, Robby Swift, Levi Siver, Brawzinho, Timo Mullen and Robby Naish were all out charging giant sets. This was probably the best wave day of the trip so far and we had spent the whole morning shooting hand drags and chop hops at Sprecks, doh!

BUILDING SWELL
I decided to head up the hill to join all the other photographers and kill the next few hours before our pre-arranged meeting with Thomas, Graham Ezzy, Aleix Sanllehy and Ross Williams at 3pm. Another hour passed and the swell continued to build, with some sets blanking out the horizon from beach level. In the past that has always been my benchmark where I reckon Jaws could be breaking but with no plan set in motion to head further up the coast it looked like we would be shooting Ho’okipa with the rest of the crowd. At 2.45 I found Thomas Traversa pensively gazing at the waves from the shade of the tree in front of the lifeguard tower obviously thinking along the same lines as me. ‘I reckon that’s almost Jaws size’ I randomly remarked not really expecting any major reaction from Thomas. But his reply was immediate, ‘Ok let’s go’ and off he went to de-rig and load up his truck like a man possessed.

Right at that moment Jason Polakow walked past and I shouted over to him ‘Hey ‘Pozza’ is that big enough for Jaws?’ He was obviously busy changing boards in the midst of the JP shoot but hollered back ‘Err yeah could be a couple of small ones sneaking in up there’. One thing I did not want to do at this stage was blow the whole day on a wild goose chase up to Jaws and with no jet ski or rescue cover in place, we could easily waste a few hours going up to check without any plan on how anybody would launch or be able to sail it. A few minutes later Timo came in off the water and when I mentioned that we might be heading up to the ‘Big J’, his eyes lit up as he rushed off to derig shouting ‘Don’t leave without me, whatever you do!’ I know sailing Jaws has been on Timo’s bucket list for a few years and maybe this was his one shot and there was no way he was going to miss out.

By this time, there was no stopping Thomas, his mind was set and by the time the rest of the crew rolled up for the 3pm meeting I was feeling the pressure that this day was going to be a write off. Ross was shaking his head with an obvious look of disapproval when he heard of the possible Jaws check, while Graham Ezzy seemed open to the idea but wanted to launch from the lighthouse and sail up, which apparently would require a 4 wheel drive which none of us had! Cut a long story short, and thirty minutes later the whole GA team, plus Timo were up on the cliffs overlooking Jaws desperately trying to fathom how big the sets down below actually were. We were alone on the hill. Not one other surfer, windsurfer or tourist had come up to even check it.
Most of the waves seemed to be barely breaking but Thomas reckoned he had seen one bigger set just before we arrived. With only a few hours of light remaining the clock was ticking but Thomas seemed totally relaxed and happy to just sit tight and wait. Another twenty minutes passed before a slightly bigger set reared up and then kind of faded. This certainly wasn’t the kind of day that would break big wave records but for the likes of Timo, Aleix and Cederic Bordes it was probably the perfect day to pop their Jaws cherry and tick it off the list!

GREEN LIGHT
Finally Thomas declared he was going for it and reached into the back of his car to grab his 4m, tiny wave board, harness, mast, boom and deck-plate. Once his decision was made, that was it; Lecky Gayda, Aleix and Timo all followed the Frenchman on the steep descent down to the water, all kind of oblivious to the dangers of launching off the rocks down below. Graham was slightly apprehensive, since he is more of a Maui local, has sailed Jaws before and knows the dangers this place can serve up, even on a so called ‘small day’. Were the guys being reckless doing this whole thing spontaneously with no on water safety? I was pretty sure Tommy T could handle himself in a big wave situation but as for Lecky and Cederic, who knows what could happen if either sailor had to take one on the head out there.

By 3.45pm Traversa had lead the way and jumped off the boulders while the others nervously watched his fate. He just crept out through the surging waves without getting pounded. Within two or three minutes he was already out to the line-up and setting himself up for his first wave. Last time I saw Thomas sail at Jaws he was incredibly impressive and by the looks of the way he approached his first ride, today he was not going to mess about either, charging deep from behind the peak with no fear whatsoever. With Tommy T belting a solid mast and a half Pe’ahi special straight off the bat, the others were left with no choice but to follow suit. After witnessing the first wave of Thomas, Graham Ezzy had to rush back up to grab his gear, there was no way he was going to miss out on the session no matter what risks they were taking.

LUCKY SIX
By 4.15 there were now six guys out on the water, Thomas, Timo, Lecky, Aleix, Graham and Cederic Bordes and the sets were starting to become much more consistent. Most of the waves are what the locals would call ‘small’ Jaws but still over mast and a half with a perfect channel. From the top of the cliff it was easy to spot the bigger sets looming up on the horizon and around every 30 mins there would be the occasional rogue bigger swell which not only had a solid peak but also connected through to the infamous west bowl. I was just keeping my fingers crossed that everybody would stay as safe as possible and not go for any ridiculous moves. But minutes after that thought, Lecky took off on the wrong side of the peak on one of the medium sets and the next minute I see him straighten and then go down engulfed in the white water. Without a ski to haul him out he was on his own and I was relived to spot him five minutes later swimming for the inside clinging on to what was left of his sail. By 5pm with just over an hour daylight left, a proper grinding set marched its way through the line-up. Tommy T was on the first wave of the set while Timo, Cederic and Graham were stacked up ready to take their turns accordingly. As per his ridiculous approach to sailing any sized waves, Thomas was stupidly deep and screamed into a bottom turn right in front of a treble mast high roaring section. Aleix charged through on the next wave on the conveyor belt and once again came straight down the face in front of an avalanche of heavy white water. Next up was Timo, I am not sure if he was aware this one had a chunkier west bowl looming in front of him. As he took his line towards the channel the wave just started wrapping towards him and barrelling behind him. It kind of reminded me of a famous moment back in the day when Josh Angulo caught a similar wave, took off his hand and stared straight back into the pit. From the looks of things, Timo’s priorities were more set on making it out to the channel and luckily he survived the wave unscathed and I am sure he was probably hollering out loud after that ride. The set was not over, Cederic the GA slalom racer was on the last wave and came charging down the line almost oblivious to his surroundings. I know Cederic has been sailing big waves with Thomas through the winter so maybe the thought of riding Jaws was not fazing him. But this wave was probably the biggest and meanest of all with a beautiful clean face and hollow end section. With Thomas jealously watching from the channel, Cederic took his wave bravely and made it out to safety unscathed.

THE GOLDEN HOUR
By this time I think the likes of Timo and Aleix were happy to survive the mission so they headed back down to Ho’okipa leaving just Graham, Cederic and Thomas alone for the last forty minutes until sunset. Right on cue with their departure, the next big set hammered through, this time with Graham Ezzy dropping into a huge clean wave with the west bowl throwing over into a cavernous gaping barrel behind him. Meanwhile Traversa on the wave behind changed his angle of attack and drove his brand new Tabou right under the throat of the main section, hitting it square on. Up on the cliffs, the show was simply awesome to watch. For the last thirty minutes Traversa seemed to go on a mission and was charging at the lip on every wave. Meanwhile the light was crystal clear as the warm evening sun dipped towards the crest of the West Maui Mountains. I really wish I could have been down in the water experiencing some of these waves from the channel but this whole session had been so spontaneous and last minute I was thankful enough to score a front row seat at the top of the cliffs. The last three sailors sailed until almost dark at Jaws before heading off towards Ho’okipa in the fading light.

THIRSTY WORK
I packed up my cameras and headed straight out through the sugar cane fields, onto the Hana Highway and then straight to the nearest liquor store and loaded up with two cases of beer. I was pretty certain the boys would have worked up a thirst and would be stoked after scoring this rare last season session at Jaws with just six guys out. By the time I drove into the parking lot at Ho’okipa it was pitch black, I was thankful to see all the crew were back from Jaws all safe and smiling, especially when I produced two cases of coronas.

Graham was slightly annoyed because it was the first time he had sailed Pe’ahi without hitting the lip but at the same time he reckoned it was easily the cleanest he has ever sailed there and he still scored a few memorable bombs. Timo was ecstatic, I knew sailing Jaws was one of his windsurfing ambitions but to score that one particular wave that caverned over in his wake was even more of a special bonus. Thomas was happy to be reunited with his wife and daughter at Ho’okipa and was definitely buzzing after charging a couple of those massive lips. I’ve seen a few top quality sailors riding Jaws in my time but Traversa somehow is in a league of his own and almost treats it like sailing a logo high beach break rather than a triple mast high ‘life or death’ threatening monster. I felt a bit sorry for Ross who was unable to sail because of an injured ankle but it was still cool to see he was genuinely stoked for his teammates after they had scored Jaws, especially during the GA/Tabou photo shoot. Needless to say, we happily sat around at Ho’okipa until most of the beers were polished off, but after scoring waves like that who could really blame us!

GRAHAM EZZY
Rivers of sweat washed the sunscreen off my face. The day was not hot and the only activity I engaged in was watching a bunch of tourists launch off the rocks at Jaws. I sweat the watery, odourless sweat of saunas – the perspiration of fear. I was scared. A relentless and barrelling shore break hit the rocks that are the beach at Jaws. The tourists were in the process of swimming out with their windsurfing gear.  The “beach” at Jaws is not really a beach but a gulch carved by the stream that flows from the Kaupakalua reservoir to the sea. There is no sand, only slippery boulders. The path down to sea level is a steep winding trail through ironwood pine trees, which are skinny and stunted from the sea-air.

After 20 minutes of waiting while holding his rigged windsurfer, Thomas Traversa scrambled like a crab across the rocks towards the ocean and swam holding on to his back footstrap to drag his equipment with him – the windline sat forty metres off the shore. The shorebreak paused for only 20 seconds, barely giving Thomas enough time to reach safety before the waves returned. Aleix Sanllehy attempted launching after Thomas. He mistimed and a man-high white water climbed over him and pushed him back and beneath his sail. He tried to stand but his foot was stuck between boulders and the weight of the sea pressed against the surface area of his sail. I turned away because I did not want to see his leg break. I climbed back up the cliff to my pickup truck.
Maybe my recollection sounds melodramatic, but you must understand that this is the scale of Jaws. Everything is bigger and more powerful – the consequences more dire, more real.
On Maui, tourists are always doing stupid shit and dying. The rules of engagement don’t always make sense to outsiders. Currents can’t be seen, and certain tourists think it ridiculous that they would be unable to swim back to shore. Yet, an Olympic swimmer drowned on Maui while swimming against a current. Same with flash floods. It rains on Maui more than almost anywhere else in the world, and that water can come rushing down dry river beds and carry people and cars into rocks and off cliffs and into the sea. “It looks fine. I can handle a little flooding,” is a common reaction to the “Flash Flooding Warning” signposts on the trailheads after a heavy rain. And despite my current morbidity, most of these tourists don’t actually die. They hike, the flood never comes, and life goes on. But when the floods do flash, the water knocks over their Jeep Wranglers and they drown. Those who live are just lucky. The survivors are not brave, just ignorant of the danger.

The whole problem is that most of the time, nothing happens. But when something does happen, the consequences can be catastrophic. The local rules are heuristics passed down from generation to generation – a collective wisdom.  One of these rules is that locals don’t launch off the rocks at Jaws. I’m not sure why. It’s just something we don’t do. I have sailed Jaws more times than I can count, but until that day, I’d never launched off the rocks at the base of the Pe’ahi cliff. I guess the shorebreak is too powerful and the current too strong. Luck becomes too big of a factor. Locals go to Jaws with boats or jet skis. Or, we launch elsewhere – Ho’okipa, Maliko, the Lighthouse. I have a favourite spot to launch, just to the right of the rocks at the Haiku Lighthouse where Robby Naish famously launched in the movie RIP (see YouTube). But ever since the timing chain blew on my Land Rover, I’ve been without a vehicle capable of making the off-road drive through the pineapple fields to the Lighthouse. I grew up swimming off the north shore cliffs. On winter nights, the thunder of Jaws could be heard from my crib. I’ve had to swim in from Jaws after crashing and breaking my gear. And yet, I was scared to go off the rocks – I was more scared to go off the rocks than to sail Jaws. And I was scared for these tourists who were also my friends.

DANGER
Thomas Traversa is the most experienced big wave windsurfer of my generation. I don’t know another human who can read the ocean better than Thomas. Despite that, there was a moment as he swam off the rocks when a wave rose up and I held my breath. Thomas escaped but only by centimetres. The others who planned to launch – Cedric, Aleix, and Aleksy Gayda – were much less experienced in big waves and tricky launches. With no boats or jet skis, there would be no ocean rescue if anything went wrong. Every man for himself. It’s not that I thought they could not handle the situation; I knew that they did not fully understand the risk of what we were doing.

Jaws is easy, which makes it dangerous. Most places, when the waves are big, the ocean becomes survival-at-sea – the currents become freight trains, the channels disappear, the waves close out into a single explosive line of erupting white water. Once the waves at Ho’okipa go above 6 metres, the best windsurfers in the world struggle to make it out past the breaking waves. In contrast, even when the waves are bigger than a building, on either side of the wave at Jaws is a channel as calm as a swimming pool. Everything is easy, unless something goes wrong. The waves were not massive when Polakow was held under the water at Jaws for over a minute – while he was wearing a flotation vest.

After I launched and had caught a few waves myself, I saw Aleksy crash a crash that could have killed him. As I sailed back out in the channel, he rode towards the shore on a wave small for that day but huge anywhere else (over 6 metres). He was too deep, too far behind the peak of the wave. That day was windy and the wave was not too large, and Aleksy could have used the power of the wind to speed in front of and around the breaking wave into the safety of the channel. To my surprise, he instead went upwind and further into the no-man’s land. As he slowly turned more and more into the wind, my surprise turned to leaden dread – a wipeout was unavoidable. The wave rolled past me and began to break, and Aleksy went out of my view, still heading upwind, heading to nowhere but a wipeout. Worried, I kept watching. Eventually, Aleksy and his pink sail popped out of the whitewater wake of the wave – separated by a distance of 50 metres or more. The next waves pushed Aleksy’s rig onto the rocks at the base of the cliff. I knew Aleksy was still in the water, somewhere to the left of where the wave breaks from the perspective of a surfer in the water looking back at the land. I wanted to help Aleksy, but he was too far inside and too far upwind to reach with a windsurfer. I could have sailed upwind until where the wind died and then swam to where I thought Aleksy to be, but I would have been impotent to offer any real assistance. I would have just been there to keep him company, an act of solidarity, rather than a rescue. Half of the Tabou crew were stood on the Jaws rocks, but they too would be unable to help Aleksy – any attempt at rescue would be futile. With no jet skis or boats, he was on his own.
There was nothing I could do – nothing anyone could do – to help Aleksy. Maybe he was already dead or broken or scared to death trying to find a way to put land under his feet. So I continued my session.

SMOOTH
Even though the waves were relatively small, they were the cleanest waves I have ever ridden at Jaws. Often, the wave faces at Jaws resemble a mogul run from the ski mountain, and the bottom turn is all about not bouncing. But that day, the clean faces meant that it was possible to do a powerful bottom turn. A good bottom turn is the gateway to everything off the lip, which meant that I was able to carve cutbacks in the pockets formed below the lip in the moments when it starts to hurtle forward. Thomas one-upped me and hit the breaking lip as if the waves were mast-high.
“Just one more set,” Thomas and I kept saying to each other. Soon, the sun had set and only Thomas, Cedric, and I were left. We planned to sail the 11 kms down to Ho’okipa and meet our girlfriends and the rest of the Tabou team on the beach. We each wanted the feeling of riding one more set wave – a feeling that we might not have again for another year or two, or ever.
We waited, and we waited. But the longer we waited, the more the wind lightened and the more the sky darkened. The point of a guaranteed safe sail back to Ho’okipa had passed by half an hour. The one more set wave never came. We three sailed downwind to Ho’okipa. The wind was so weak that we could not plane the last half of the journey. We arrived at Ho’okipa, which normally takes less than ten minutes, after over twenty minutes. The sun had set so long ago that we could barely see the lines of the unbroken waves and the wind was so light that we balanced on our boards with one foot in front of the mast track. Eventually, all three of us caught a wave and rode it in as far as possible. The wind had completely died close to shore, and we had to swim the last bit into the beach.  The lights from the city of Kahului twinkled down the coast, and the first stars of the night were already shining brightly between the clouds. Full of that indescribable feeling only a windsurfer knows after a good session, we met the rest of the crew who had picked up ice cold Coronas. Aleksy, to my relief, was alive and uninjured.  He managed – through luck or adrenaline-fueled awareness – to come ashore in the safest point of the whole Jaws coastline, a little alcove upwind of where we launched, and he hiked across the cliff base back to where we started. He was calmly perplexed by his luck.

The next day, with the euphoria faded and fallen into an endorphin hangover, I was disappointed that I had not been more aggressive and hit the lip for a big aerial. Everyone talks about the ego-stoke of individual-centred action sports like windsurfing, but no one mentions the ego-drain, the ego-suffocate, the ego-shame that is the inevitable yin to the yang.  I’m not religious, but riding Jaws comes close to being a religious experience. Riding a Jaws wave is to be part of something so much more powerful than yourself, you become insignificant. But at the same time, in riding the wave, you become part of the wave, part of a force so inhumanely powerful. The self disappears in the power of the wave and becomes the wave at the same time – but only for an instant. And then life goes back to normal until the next set wave, which is what we are still looking for. Just one more. Just one more.

“ Riding a Jaws wave is to be part of something so much more powerful than yourself, you become insignificant ”

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