john fisher anderson : surf riding at waikiki, 1922
Leaving the main road at Koloa, I spent a delightful night on the seashore and after a dip in the surf.
I had a splendid sleep on a bed of pine needles on the volcanic rock near the Spouting Horn, which is a curious rock formation where the waves
rush into lava tubes and force the water high up into the air in geyser fashion.
Of my six
in seeing Uncle Sam's new territory, four of them were
on the Island of Oahu, in and around Honolulu.
The world famed surf-riding at Waikiki Beach, was delightfully enjoyed many times on a surf board of beautiful Hawaiian mahogany.
With the temperature of the air at about 70 degrees, I would push and
board from the sandy beach while the cocoanut palms, so
slender and graceful,
seemed to watch as I, with natives and tourists, swam out to
sea and then
rode back on the incoming surf.
Sometimes I was riding the board and other times it was riding me, but it was grand mid-winter sport in a land where the meaning of the word winter is unknown.
Waikiki Beach has the "ol' swimmin' hole" beaten forty ways.
The native Hawaiians easily become splendid swimmers.
However, surf-riding has developed expert riders from the ranks of visitors.
The temperature of the water at the beaches permits bathing every month in the year.
Seeing Hawaii on American Pluck
Times-Mirror Press, Los Angeles, 1922.