Issue link: http://digital.canadawide.com/i/118148
I 'm sitting in Hale'iwa's Joe's Seafood Grill on Oahu's North Shore, as Randy Rarick gives me the lay of the land – or rather, of the water. If I were a surfer, the ultra-fit 60-year-old would need no introduction. An online source describes him as the Forrest Gump of the sport, a person with "a hand in every significant event of the past 40 years" (and that note dates from 2001). As a teenager, Rarick was known as "Super Patch" for his expertise as a boardrepair guy, while out on the waves he ascended to surfing's top competitive ranks before stepping back to run various related businesses and act as a kind of international ambassador for the sport– he's travelled to 140 countries and surfed in almost all of them, for heaven sakes. Rarick always returns to Oahu's North Shore, though. So maybe he's biased when he describes it as surfing's ultimate destination, the nirvana every wave rider is inexorably drawn to. Then again, who is more qualified to say it? But over Joe's macadamia-crusted mahi mahi, Rarick makes another point about the North Shore and Oahu in general. It's April now and the surf season is tailing off with waves only five metres high instead of eight, but in another couple of months the bays will be as smooth as glass. Good for floating around in an inner tube with a drink in hand (which you sure wouldn't do in April, let alone January); not good for surfing. Luckily, by then the island's little-visited southwestern Wai'anae shore is roiling from southern hemisphere storms, and wave hunters can simply head there. In fact, says Rarick, every corner of the island is blessed with good surf at some point in the year. Of course, life isn't all about surf, even on the North Shore, and another blessing of Oahu is that, relative to the other Hawaiian Islands, the so-called Gathering Place covers so many bases – not the least of which is its capital city of Honolulu and adjacent resort enclave of Waikiki, both chock full of cultural and entertainment options. The only trouble is, most visitors never venture beyond Waikiki and so never come to know an island that has arguably been the most successful of the archipelago's eight inner isles at retaining its native Hawaiian soul. Nor do they discover that Oahu rivals the Big Island for spectacular landscapes, Maui for funky surf culture and Kauai for lush gardens and fearless feral chickens – the latter organic, free-range and available for the taking, if a fellow wants to go that route. (clockwise from top) A couple walks back after splashing in a waterfall-fed pool at the Waimea Valley Botanical Garden; Oahu rivals Kauai for gardens; North Shore surf capital Hale'iwa. So, how to solve the problem of too much Waikiki, not enough Oahu? Over the course of a couple of winter and spring getaways, my strategy has been to park for days at a time in three incredibly different corners of the island, going native like a real-life Jack Lord, whose TV exploits are carried on in these parts, of course. It's an approach I recommend to anyone, but if that's not possible, here's an alternative: take advantage of some of the world's cheapest car rentals for an epic, one-day, around-the-island spin. True, this means only dipping one's toes into a land and culture that cry out for total immersion, but then again, never will those toes have had so much fun. Here's the plan: early in the morning the convertible (because, why not?) should be pointed out of Waikiki and onto Hwy. 72, heading toward and around the southeastern tip of the island, cruising right by Diamond Head, Koko Crater and Hanauma Bay (iconic landmarks all, but better accessed from Waikiki via day tour), then stopping just past Hanauma Bay at Sandy Beach for a little body surfing. South Americans and Polynesians both lay claim to the invention of surfing, which in any case predates recorded history, but let's just assume we're about to engage in an activity Hawaiian Jim Sutherland (botanical garden), Hawaii Tourism Authority p28-35_Oahu.indd 31 islanders have been enjoying since arriving here from the Marquesas Islands almost 2,000 years ago. Having taken the precautions of topping up our medical insurance and tightening our drawstrings and bikini straps, we wade in, only to be ploughed under the water and raked over the sand by massive shore-breaking waves. It's amazing fun, if ridiculously dangerous. Adding to the effect, Sandy Beach is also favoured by hanggliders, who soar above us like buzzards waiting for the inevitable. Back in the ragtop, we whoosh through desert-like terrain and by several more alluring beaches, then take a turn inland, passing through dense jungle while skirting a chunk of the almost mile-high Ko'olau Range. Average annual precipitation on Oahu ranges from less than 25 centimetres to 110, and it pulls this off in the space of a few kilometres, so why are we surprised that the landscape flashing by looks like the National Geographic channel on fast forward? Soon enough we veer back toward what's known as the Windward Side, and, yes, it does seem a little breezy here in what amounts to a popular bedroom suburb of Honolulu. Still, the reef-protected waters of Lanikai Beach are calm enough for snorkelling. The diversity of sea life isn't quite up to Hanauma Bay WESTWORLD >> W I N T E R 2 0 1 2 31 12-10-19 9:55 AM