Editor’s Note

“Ho, brah, you gonna need a bigger board, eh?” he said, eying the 6'4" single-fin under my arm. The man was slightly overweight, with wispy gray hair and a thin salt-and-pepper mustache. It was only 8 a.m., but he stood uneasily in the sand with a brown-bagged beer in hand, which he held outstretched toward the lines of whitewater on the horizon. To borrow a traditional Hawaiian phrase, he was clearly a “crazy old uncle,” and not necessarily a trustworthy source for