"Seven Weeks in Hawaii," a short illustrated book by Washington state writer and stenographer M. Leola Crawford, was published in 1913. Visitors to Waikiki by this time were encouraged to take surfing lessons from hotel-employed beachboys; Crawford was fortunate enough to go riding with Duke Kahanamoku.

At three o’clock they dropped me 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 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 surf-board. 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 

. 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 Duke 

 we painfully wended our way homeward. And, as before stated, we are now but limping shadows of our former selves!

1917: “O, THE WILD JOY OF IT!” BY M. LEOLA CRAWFORD

Subscribe or Login

Subscribe or Login

Encyclopedia of Surfing

History of Surfing

Features

Videos