Closing Time

This morning I stared blankly as the pineapple and sugar cane fields of Oahu raced past my passenger seat window, under the watchful eye of the stars of the Northern Hemisphere.

My Hawaiian adventure was over and I was on my way to catch the 9AM express flight to Somewhere Else.

In the past month I have paddled over the shoulder of second reef pipe bombs and stared into their golden green violent vortexes. I have surfed Waimea Bay, I was a board caddy in the Triple Crown, I body surfed thumping shorebreaks.

I got barreled at backdoor and Rocky Point, I broke boards, I witnessed drama and injury and fights and triumph. I partied in Honolulu, I made new friends and reignited old friendships. I surfed with World Champions and I surfed with hero’s. I nearly got my ass kicked. I ate sushi and Mexican and fresh pineapple and coconut.

I’ve had an amazing month.

Will I come back? Time and bank accounts will tell the answer to that question, and the world is a very big place, with hundreds of places I still have to surf. Still, I think that something about Hawaii got under my skin. It could have been the beauty, or the weather. Maybe it was the consistent waves, or the awesome power of the surf. Maybe it was the warm Pacific ocean, or maybe it was just Ted’s Bakery.

Those parts of Hawaii will not be easily forgotten, and are haunting me even now, in the departure lounge.

It’s funny, because the perfect song played for us on the radio this morning. I can’t remember who sings it, but it has one of those catchy chorus lines that doesn't let up, no matter how much other music you listen to to try and make it wash away:

“Closing time - every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.”

That familiar roar of jet engines outside is telling me it’s time for a new beginning.