Makaha | Page 2 | Images of Old Hawaiʻi

October 17, 2019 by Peter T Young 1 Comment

Staying Connected

In our present wonderful world of wireless – and connectivity to the internet, etc – we sometimes forget the relative ‘remoteness’ Hawaiʻi has with the rest of civilization.

Hawaiʻi is the world’s most-isolated populated-place. In round numbers, we are 5,000 miles Washington DC, New York, Florida, Australia, Philippines, Hong Kong & the North Pole; 4,000 miles from Chicago, Tokyo, New Zealand & Guam and 2,500 miles from Los Angeles, all other West Coast cities, Samoa, Alaska & Mexico.

While, today, technology keeps us constantly and instantly in touch and aware of world events, the same was not true in the past. Prior to the beginning of the 20th century, you had at least a one-week time lag in receiving “news” (that arrived via ships.)

This mattered and put Hawaiʻi at a significant disadvantage, especially when you consider the level of literacy in the Islands.

In Hawaiʻi, the literacy rate of the adult Hawaiian population moved from near zero in 1820 to a conservative estimate of 91% – and perhaps as high as 95% – by 1834.

The Kingdom of Hawaiʻi was one of the most literate nations on earth. By 1832, the literacy rate of Hawaiians had surpassed that of Americans on the continent, which at the time was 78% (and did not exceed the 90% level until 1902.) Overall European literacy rates in 1850 had not risen much above 50%. (Laimana)

This significant number of readers resulted in a thriving Hawaiian press (with different publications printed in Hawaiian and English – and other languages.)

But without faster worldwide communications to the Islands, Hawaiʻi was deprived of staying current with world events.

That changed in 1902, when the first submarine cable across the Pacific was completed (landing in Waikīkī at Sans Souci Beach) linking the US mainland to Hawaiʻi, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Fiji (1902) and Guam to the Philippines in 1903. (The first Atlantic submarine cable, connecting Europe with the USA, was completed in 1866.)

The first telegraph message carried on the system was sent from Hawaiʻi and received by President Teddy Roosevelt on January 2, 1903 (that day was declared “Cable Day in Hawaiʻi.”)

On January 3, 1903, the first news dispatches were sent over the Pacific cable to Hawaiʻi by the Associated Press.

On the afternoon of July 4, 1903, Honolulu was connected to the Pacific cable from Midway Island, which extended east to the Philippines and China. On that day, the Pacific cable commenced full operation between Asia and Washington, DC.

In 1956, a 200-foot wide channel was dynamited through the center of Hanauma Bay to accommodate the first telephone cable (AT&T,) stretching from San Francisco to Hawaiʻi. The cable provided the first direct operator dialing between Hawaiʻi and the mainland.

There were two cables, one for each direction of transmission; to maintain transmission, underwater repeaters (or speech amplifiers) were spliced into the cables at intervals of 38 nautical miles. (The two cables were needed because the repeaters worked in only one direction.)

The final splice was made in the first of these cables on August 2, 1957 and the laying of the second cable was completed a couple months later. It remained in service until 1989.

The first trans-Pacific submarine cable system, TPC-1 (Trans Pacific Cable 1), was put into service on June 19, 1964. It’s a submarine coaxial cable linked Japan, Guam, Hawaiʻi and mainland USA via Hawaiʻi, with a small capacity of only 128 telephone circuits (it was withdrawn from service in 1990.)

After that, more transpacific submarine cable systems were built.

Even with all the satellite and mobile communication options we have today, there are 7 major transpacific submarine communication cables landing in Hawaii, distributed at 5 cable landing stations.

Three of Hawaiʻi’s five Cable Landing Stations for the various trans-Pacific and interisland cables are on Oʻahu and two are on the Big Island: Mākaha, Kahe, Keawaʻula and two at Spencer Beach Park (near Kawaihae on the Big Island.)

Mākaha Cable Landing Station is located at Mākaha Beach along the Waianae coast of the Island of Oʻahu is home to the first trans-Pacific cable that was landed at Mākaha Beach in 1964. The Mākaha CLS is now the cable landing station for Japan-US CN and other interisland cables, as well as retired trans-pacific cables.

Kahe Point Cable Landing Site lies within Kahe Point Beach Park, along the southwest coast of the Island of Oʻahu. The Kahe Point Cable Landing Station is now the cable landing station for the Southern Cross and other interisland cables.

Keawaʻula Cable Landing Station (built in 1985) is located at Keawaʻula within the Kaʻena State Park at the beach commonly known as Yokohama, which has been served as a landing site since 1963.

There are two stations at Spencer Beach on the northwest coast of the Big Island of Hawaiʻi. The landing site is within the Samuel M Spencer Beach Park. This is also the terminal station for the Honotua (serving French Polynesia) and other inter-island submarine cables.

With these cable connections, as well as satellite communications, today, Hawaiʻi stays linked to and up-to-date with the rest of the world.

Follow Peter T Young on Facebook

Follow Peter T Young on Google+

Follow Peter T Young on LinkedIn

Follow Peter T Young on Blogger

Hanauma_Bay-Blasting_for_Telephone_Cable-1956

Transpacific_Cable__TPC-1__on_Japan_Shoreline_1964

Laying the shore end of the first telephone cable to Japan in Makaha, Hawaii-(AT&T)-1964

submarine-telephone-cable-and-diver--hanauma-bay-1973-bill-owen

Loading the HAW-1 Cable linking Point Arena, California with Hanauma Bay-1957

California-Hawaii-undersea_telephone_cable-1957

Communication between San Francisco and O'ahu, people on the Hawai'i end received their first message-(honoluluadvertiser)-1903

December 22, 2016 by Peter T Young 1 Comment

Dickie Cross

“Nobody went to the North Shore.”

Until the 1930s, modern surfing in Hawaiʻi was focused at Waikīkī; there the waves were smaller. Then, in 1937, Wally Froiseth and John Kelly, reportedly on a school trip, witnessed the large break at Mākaha and later surfed its waves. They were later joined by George Downing and others.

Riding at an angle to the wave, rather than the straight to shore technique, on the new “hot curl” board, with narrower tails and V-hulled boards, allowed them to ride in a sharper angle than anyone else.

Mākaha became the birthplace of big wave surfing. Even before Oʻahu’s North Shore, Mākaha was ‘the’ place for surfing – especially big-wave surfing.

In January 1955, the first Mākaha International Surfing Championships was held and for the next decade was considered the unofficial world championships of surfing.

“We were the first ones to go (to the North Shore.) Wally and John Kelly told me, they said, ‘Oh, there at (Sunset Beach,) there’s big waves over there.’” (Quotes in this summary are from an account by Woody Brown in Legendary Surfers.)

On December 22, 1943, Woody Brown and a young friend named Dickie Cross paddled out at Sunset on a rising swell. Up to this time, Sunset had rarely been ridden.

“Oh well, it’s winter time. There’s no surf in Waikiki at all, see. So, we got bored. You know how surfers get. Oh, let’s go over there and try over there. That’s how we got over there and got caught, because the waves were 20 feet.”

“Well, that wasn’t too bad, because there was a channel going out, see. The only thing is, when I looked from the shore, I could see the water dancing in the channel … the waves are piling in the bay from both sides, causing this narrow channel going out.”

“There were 20 foot waves breaking on each side. We went out to catch these waves and slide toward the channel. The only trouble was, the surf was on the way up. We didn’t know that. It was the biggest surf they’d had in years and years, see, and it was on the way up.”

“So, we got caught out there! It kept getting bigger and bigger and, finally, we were sitting in this deep hole where the surf was breaking on two sides and coming into the channel. The channel opened up into this big deep area where we were and the surf would break on two sides”.

“Then, all of a sudden, way outside in the blue water, a half mile out from where we were – and we were out a half mile from shore – way out in the blue water this tremendous wave came all the way down the coast, from one end to the other.”

“It feathered and broke out there! We thought, ‘Oh boy, so long, pal. This is the end. … 20 feet of white water, eh? Rolling in and just before it got to us, it hit this deep hole and the white water just backed-up. The huge swell came through, but didn’t break.”

“Oh, boy! Scared the hell out of us! Well, there was a set of about 5 or 6 waves like that. So, after the set went by, we said, ‘Hey, let’s get the hell inside. What are we doing out here? This is no place to be! Let’s get in!’”

“You have to be very careful of these channels. When the waves get big, the rip current just pours out of there, out of the bay. You can’t get in. Anyway, we didn’t know what to do.”

“So, finally, we decided, ‘Well, there was only one thing to do. We gotta wait until that huge set goes by’ … ‘then, we’ll paddle like hell to get outside of ’em and then paddle down the coast and come in at Waimea.

“By the time we got there, it kept getting bigger and bigger. It went up on the Haleiwa restaurant and it wiped out the road at Sunset. It was the biggest surf they’d had in years and we were stuck out there.”

“Then what I was afraid might happen did happen. In other words, a set came where we were — a big, tremendous set. Boy, outside of us there was just a step ladder a far as you could see, going uphill.”

“(W)e had agreed we’d go out in the middle of the bay, where it was safe, and sit there and watch the sets go by and see what it looked like. Then we could judge where to get in and what.”

“But, no! (Cross) starts cutting in, and I hollered at him, ‘Hey, hey, don’t go in there. Let’s go out in the middle!’ “‘Nah!’ ” “He just wouldn’t pay any attention.”

“So, he was going in and I would see him go up over these swells and come back out off the top. The next one would come and he’d disappear and then I’d see him come up over the top and it looked like he was trying to catch ’em.”

“I told him, ‘Come out, come out!’ It sounded like he said, ‘I can’t, Woody, I’m too tired.’ That’s what it sounded like. But then, he started swimming out towards me, so I started paddling in to catch him to pick him up on my board.”

“Well, you know, at a time like that, in that kind of big waves… you’re watching outside all the time … So, I’m paddling in and one eye’s out there and one eye’s on him to pick him up.”

“All of a sudden, his eyes see the darn mountains coming way outside in the blue water, just piling one on top of another, way out there. I turned around and started paddling outside for all I’m worth”.

“I started looking for Dickie, cuz he’s been inside of me. Oh, boy. I hollered and called and looked, swam around, and there was no more Dickie anywhere. It’s getting dark, now, too! The sun’s just about setting.”

“So, I’m swimming and I think, ‘Well, I’m gonna die, anyway, so I might just as well try to swim in, because, what the hell, I’m dead, anyway, if I’m gonna float around out here.'”

“I’ll swim out to the middle of the bay and I’ll wait and watch the big sets go by and after a big set goes by, then I just try swimming and hope to God I can get in far enough that when another big set comes in I’ll be where it isn’t so big and strong.”

“And that’s what I did. I was just lucky when the first one came. I’m watching it come, bigger and higher and higher and it broke way outside, maybe 4-5 hundred yards outside of me. I said, ‘Well, maybe I got a chance.’”

“So, I figured, ‘Man, if I lived through this one, I got a chance!’ Cuz each one, I’m getting washed in, eh? So, each time I dove a little less deep and I saw it was washing me in.”

“So, they washed me up on the beach. I was so weak, I couldn’t stand up. I crawled out on my hands and knees and these army guys came running down.”

“The first thing I said to them was, ‘Where’s the other guy?’ They said, ‘Oh, we never saw him after he got wrapped up in that first big wave.’”

“If he got ‘wrapped up’ meant that he was up in the curl, right? How else would you express it? So, I figured he tried to bodysurf in.” (Legendary Surfers)

Census records show Dickie Cross (born in 1925) was son of William and Annie Cross who emigrated from England in 1902. His father was a brick mason; they lived in Waikiki on Prince Edward Street, about a block mauka of what is now the Hyatt Regency.

Honolulu-born Dickie, along with older brother Jack, was a fixture on the Waikiki surfing and paddleboard-racing scene in the late-1930s and early-40s. While still in middle school, the two boys made a sailing canoe in their backyard, and sailed it, alone, from Waikiki to Molokai, a distance of 40 miles.

Cross’s death contributed greatly to what California big-wave rider Greg Noll later described as the ‘Waimea taboo’ – a general fear that kept surfers from riding the break until 1957.

As part of the Sunshine Freestyle Surfabout, there is the Dick Cross Memorial Distance Paddle that sends surfers on their boards from Carmel River Beach, around Carmel Point, California, all the way to the judges’ stands at Eighth and Scenic. Top paddlers do the distance in about 15-minutes.

Follow Peter T Young on Facebook

Follow Peter T Young on Google+

Follow Peter T Young on LinkedIn

Follow Peter T Young on Blogger

Dickie Cross, Queens, 1940

Wally Froiseth & Dickie Cross-1943

Dickie Cross (second from right), Waikiki, 1943

Waimea_Closeout

April 5, 2016 by Peter T Young 2 Comments

Soaring, Surfing & Sailing

Born in New York on April 5, 1912, the older of two children, Woodbridge (Woody) Parker Brown came from a very wealthy home, headed by a father with a seat on the Wall Street Stock Exchange. Woody was expected to step into that position.

But he had other ideas and, at the age of 16, walked away from school in favor of hanging out at Long Island airfields, because he was crazy about planes. He learned to fly, and acquired a glider. (Gillette)

He met aviator Charles Lindbergh at Curtis Field on Long Island. Inspired by Lindbergh, Woody learned to fly in a Curtiss JN-4 “Jenny,” an obsolete single-engine trainer used by the US Army Air Service in World War I. (Kampion)

Woody virtually lived at New York’s Curtis Field where he became a protégé of Lindbergh, but Woody soon discovered that his true passion was for the unique world of gliders, soaring silently on invisible currents of air. His goal was to acquire the finely tuned sensitivity required to read the air and wind with nothing to hold him aloft but his own skill. (dlbfilms)

“Soaring appealed to me because it’s like surfing or sailing. It’s working with nature; not ‘Brute Force and Bloody Ignorance.’ You know, you give something enough horse power and no matter what it is it’ll fly.”

“Flying was brand new, then! Every time you took off it was an experiment. You didn’t know what was gonna happen. Every flight was a brand new flight. So, it was real exciting.” (Brown; Gault-Williams)

He soon met Elizabeth (Betty) an Englishwoman and they headed West to San Diego in 1935. The young couple lived at La Jolla, where Woody got into bodysurfing, then surfing.

He built his own board, a hollow plywood “box” that would float him so he could catch waves at Windansea, Bird Rock, and Pacific Beach. His second board – the “snowshoe” – was more refined.

He adapted some of the aerodynamic wisdom he’d acquired to the much denser medium of water. The outline was traced from the fuselage of his glider; it featured a vee bottom and a small skeg.

At nearby Torrey Pines, he was the first to launch a glider from the high bluffs into the vaulting updraft of the onshore breeze. He survived a couple of near-death experiences there and a couple of crashes riding the inland thermals. He became a soaring champion, winning meets around the state and country.

In the midst of “the happiest years of my life” (Kampion,) in 1939, at Wichita Falls, Brown flew his Thunderbird glider 263-miles to national and world records of altitude, distance, maximum time aloft and goal flight. President Herbert Hoover sent him a congratulatory telegram. (Marcus)

He made it home for the birth of his son; unfortunately, his wife, Betty, died in childbirth. Distraught, he left his infant son and all of his possessions in La Jolla and moved to Hawai‘i (he eventually reconciled with his abandoned son, some 60 years after the fact.) (Surfer)

“I left my car, the garage, my home, glider, everything. I don’t know what happened to them. I just walked out and left everything. When you’re off your rocker that way, you know, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

In the early 1940s, Brown joined surfing pioneer Wally Froiseth and began surfing pristine waves in remote places like Mākaha and the North Shore.

Flying was not available in Hawai‘i at the time, so he tried to surf the sadness out of his system. He’d go out in the morning and surf all day long. “I’d be able to sleep a little ‘cause I was so damn tired … I survived. Surfing saved my life.” (Brown; Marcus) In 1943, he married Rachel.

A conscientious objector, during WWII he worked as a surveyor for the Navy on Christmas Island. There, he noticed double-hull canoes.

When he returned to Hawai‘i, Woody and a Hawaiian friend, Alfred Kumalae, went to Bishop Museum and studied all the Polynesian canoes on display. (Gillette)

He teamed with Rudy Choy, Warren Seaman and Alfred Kumalae who started C/S/K Catamarans. They designed and built Manu Kai, a 38-foot double-hulled sailing catamaran (using wooden aircraft construction techniques.)

In 1943, Brown and Dickie Cross got caught in rising surf at Sunset beach and paddled down the coast looking for a lull in the massive waves. They ended up at Waimea, where the bay was closing out with sets as big as 20-30 feet.

Cross went over the falls of one wave and was never seen again. Barely alive, Woody crawled up in the beach in the darkness. Spooked by the disappearance of Cross, big-wave riders would wait a decade before trying to tackle Waimea Bay again. (Coleman)

Brown was one of three surfers photographed charging down a giant Mākaha wave in 1953. The iconic photo, which appeared in newspapers around the world, is credited with triggering a migration of surfers to Hawai‘i.

George Downing, who along with Buzzy Trent, was also on the 20-foot wave. “(Brown) was the only one that made the wave. That was point break at Mākaha. Where Woody was he was on the perfect place on the wave.” (Downing; Star-Bulletin)

During the ’50s, ‘60s and ‘70s, Woody continued his carefree life of surfing and sailing; in 1971, Woody, then 59, took a glider to a Hawaiian altitude record of 12,675-feet. Not long after, Woody lost his beloved wife Rachel. (dlbfilms) In 1986, Woody flew off to the Philippines, where he met and married his third wife, a young woman named Macrene.

Woody Brown dedicated the rest of his life, a life which he has always considered to be blessed, to giving as much as he can through service to others. His sense of spirituality mixes elements of the Christian tradition with his lifelong love of nature and his sense of gratitude for the gifts he feels he’s been given.

If you asked him if he’s a Christian, he’d say no. If you asked him who he considers his ultimate role model, he’d say Jesus Christ. Woody marched to his own drummer. (dlbfilms) In 1980, he wrote The Gospel of Love: A Revelation of the Second Coming.

A film of his life, ‘Of Wind and Waves: The Life of Woody Brown’ premiered to great acclaim at Mountainfilm in Telluride where it won The Inspiration Award. In 2004, the 35-minute version won the “Audience Award for Best Short” at the Maui Film Festival.

Woody Brown died April 16, 2008 on Maui, he was 96. “Woody Brown was one of the first and greatest icons in the history of surfing.”

“He was the essential surfer, an iconoclast: extremely independent, futuristic and, most especially, healthy, which explains why he lived for 96 very productive, wonderful years. And I only hope more of us who call ourselves surfers can live the way Woody lived. Sad as anyone passing is, what a joyous life.” (Fred Hemmings)

Follow Peter T Young on Facebook

Follow Peter T Young on Google+

Follow Peter T Young on LinkedIn

Follow Peter T Young on Blogger