There’s no other event like The Eddie. Steeped in history and the perfect amount of mysticism, it is arguably the most prestigious event in surfing. The minimum 20 foot swells needed to run the event means that it’s only been held eight times in the last 25 years. It’s with this backdrop that Cahill Bell-Warren went to the North Shore to see whether or not he would, as Eddie did, go.
Words by Cahill Bell-Warren and photography by Clare Plueckhahn.
Before Sunrise on the day of the Eddie. A surfer waits for first light to paddle out. Photo: Clare Plueckhahn.
Similar to the sound of rain, the gentle purr of breaking waves outside of our house was sending me to sleep with ease every evening.
That night was a very different story. The usual soft murmur of breaking waves was replaced with the roar of collapsing buildings. The ocean had turned into a growling beast, a war zone.
Sleep was near impossible. Eventually I was able to ignore the sound of water coming over our retaining wall, I let the shaking house flow through me and somehow found some sleep, comforted by knowing I would not have to surf Waimea the next day. I can’t quite comprehend what would’ve been running through the minds of the invitees that night, knowing that the following day was going to be one of the most incredible experiences, and potentially last day, of their lives.
Would Eddie Go?
Winter 2009/2010 was my first trip to the islands. The first thing I learnt was that rumors on the North Shore of Oahu spread fast. Whether it be fact, fiction or anything in between, the “seven mile miracle” thrives on gossip. The whole of the surfing world is focused on this small stretch of coastline for the Hawaiian winter, lured by the perfect waves, girls and good times. Foodland, the sole supermarket in the area sits at one end of the stretch accompanied by Starbucks. These two combined produce the breeding ground for all tall tales and “you should have seen me” stories. Considering this, it was not surprising that it took less than a day for the whole surfing world to be talking about the one swell forecast. Even a week out, everyone from meteorologists, local surf forecast gurus to total novices could see it was going to be huge. How big? All I knew for sure was that I had an interesting week ahead of me.
A view from the west point of Waimea looking towards Haleiwa. Photo: Clare Plueckhahn.
With every big swell that’s predicted to hit the North Shore comes the questions, will it be big enough for the Eddie? Will Eddie go? The requirements for the event to run are relatively simple, eight hours of 20ft plus swell and sets frequent enough for all competitors to catch waves. A decision on which day to run would have to be made by the contest directors upon looking at the conditions as the sun rose. It sounds relatively basic, however the fact that the event hadn’t run for five years shows just how rare an Eddie day actually is.
I was staying on the waterfront, around 700 meters from Waimea. As the day progressed I watched the sand disappear between our front yard and the ocean. The swell was rapidly on the rise and before I knew it there were waves surging over our four metre retaining wall. I called Nic Muscroft, 2009 member of the ASP Men’s World Tour, and we rode down to Waimea to see check out the scene. Although the event had not run today the lure of the ocean had drawn the North Shore to a standstill. Amongst the thousands of people lining the cliffs and the sand, we managed to find a viewing spot alongside 2009 Eddie invitee Jamie O’Brien and Australian free surfer Josh Kerr who were both fresh from a surf in the outrageous conditions. It was late in the afternoon and the ocean was raw, every set was bigger than the last and before long the Bay was closing out. “I’m so glad I am not out there right now… have a look at this thing” Josh proclaimed as yet another 30ft plus set closed out, leaving a trail of carnage in its wake. Jamie was super excited for the following day, “It’s going to be on for sure” he yelled, as he cranked up his Peewee up and took off. Nic and I decided to head home ourselves, if tomorrow was going to be the day we agreed that we needed to get some sleep and be ready for it.
Eddie Would Go.
Tuesday, December 8th, 2009, a day that will forever be remembered as THE day. Perfect sunshine, perfect offshore winds and most importantly a perfect 25ft plus swell marching into Waimea Bay. The scene that lay before us was one that I will never forget. On the outside corner of the bay competitors were dropping from the sky and down the face giants’ jaws, the biggest waves I have ever seen. With a crowd of over 30,000 watching the incredible surfing spectacle, finding a patch of sand to call your own was almost impossible. The previous afternoon was victory at sea. The surfers were at the total mercy of the ocean. Today was different, it was as though Eddie Aikau himself had sat down with Titan and magic’d a day for dancing, the perfect swell for the surfers to take their performance to the next level.
The scoring was simple, the bigger and more critical the wave you ride, the higher the score. No aerials, no cutbacks to the sand, he who charges the hardest wins. All competitors were given two one-hour-long heats during the day. In each heat the surfers could ride a maximum of four waves, with their best four scores from across their two heats combining to make their final total. Upon completion of the first round, 2002 Eddie Aikau winner Kelly Slater was miles ahead, amassing a score of 290 out of a possible 400. With Slater having another hour in the water remaining and the swell appearing to be slowly running out of steam, it was unlikely, shit it was pretty much impossible, that anyone would come close to the 9x world champion by days end.
Kelly Slater taking off on a bomb. Photo: Clare Plueckhahn.
Hours of sitting in the scorching sun were taking a toll on my fragile Victorian body and with one and a half heats remaining it looked like Slater’s score tally could not be bettered, I made an executive decision to head home for a well deserved beer and a feed. Curious to see how the last heat of the day panned out, I refueled my sun battered body and watched the remainder of the event on the live webcast. I felt as though I was there, be back on the beach, eyes glued on the horizon, ready to ride the emotional rollercoaster of seeing someone drop down incredible mountains of water. Holding my breath in sympathy for the surfer and waiting for him to emerge from the explosion of the whitewater before I could breathe again. The energy of the crowd was almost overwhelming, I felt as though I were riding the waves alongside the brave men in the lineup. Yes the webcast had every angle of vision covered. Yes there were non-stop replays allowing you to take a closer look at each ride. Yes I was sitting in air conditioned comfort. Despite all of this, NOTHING could compare to the atmosphere of sitting on the shoreline of the bay that day, thousands of people totally captivated by the action in the water. Celebrating together with each successful ride. Feeling the pain of every wipe out.
Greg Long on his winning wave. Photo: Clare Plueckhahn.
No one could have predicted what happened next. It seemed that Eddie decided that it just wasn’t enough, he gave the swell a kick up the arse, proclaiming that the event started in his memory was far from over. With 90 minutes of competitive surfing remaining it was only just beginning. Chilean goofy footer Ramon Navarro made me curse my decision to vacate the beach, dropping down the face of what was by far the biggest wave of the day to take out the $10,000 prize for the Monster Drop Award. The final heat of the day paddled out into almost maxing out conditions, yet still it seemed that the only man who could stop Slater was 2004 event champion Bruce Irons. Paddling out along side Bruce, sitting on a measly round one total was of 66 was Californian Greg Long. It was then that history was made. Long made the most of the increase of the swell, the final four waves he rode scoring 77, 100, 71 and 75. Long’s final heat total of 323 surpassed Kelly Slater’s apparently untouchable 313, meaning that for the first time in Eddie history, a surfer won the event with all of his counting scores coming from a single heat.
Eddie Did Go. And then so did I.
The next day I felt compelled to ride back down to Waimea and take a look. The swell had faded dramatically overnight, with 12-15ft sets meandering through the lineup. The crowd on the peak was thin and I decided it was time I had my first surf at the Bay. Taking a moment to stretch before I entered the water, I was overwhelmed by the energy in the air. Today there were less that 30 people on the beach, there was no contest tower, no helicopters buzzing overhead and certainly no live webcast streaming across the planet. Waimea Bay is an incredibly special place. That day I paddled into some of the biggest waves I’ve ever ridden and the whole time I felt surprisingly calm. My last wave was by far my biggest and I rode it through the middle of the bay and into the shorebreak. Walking up the sand I could not control the huge smile as it spread across my face. My feat was nothing in comparison to Greg Long’s victory, yet I couldn’t have been any happier. The true beauty of the 2009 Quiksilver in Memory Of Eddie Aikau is that every single person who took the time to be a part of it, walked away with a sense of achievement that can only come from being part of a moment that will go down in history.
Over the falls at Waimea. Photo: Clare Plueckhahn.
Wednesday, December 9th was just another ordinary day on the North Shore. One thing, however, was different. There were no rumors breeding at Foodland, instead everyone was talking about how amazing the Eddie was. No one cared about upcoming swells, no one was telling “you should have seen me” stories. The Eddie was the single topic of conversation and the 2009 event will undeniably go down in history as one of the greatest sporting spectacles the world has ever seen.
It is more than fair to say that in 2009, Eddie went, and he went HARD.
[This article originally appeared in Issue 15 of Pop Magazine].
