The Islands

by Di Morrissey

  ‘The boys will probably wake you up when they come in. I’ll see you in the morning.’ He stood looking down at her and Catherine had to resist the urge to lift her arms and reach out for him.

  ‘Thanks, PJ.’ She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the sight of him. He was so good looking in his casual beachy way, yet PJ seemed unaware of his appeal. As well as his classical good looks, unlike Bradley’s clean-cut looks, PJ had a superb physique honed from surfing but there was a reserve, a mystery about him that was alluring. His smile held secrets, the intensity of his blue eyes always reminded her of the depths of the ocean. But she wasn’t going to do anything other than look. She was married to another man and that had to be the end of it.

  It took Catherine a long while to fall asleep again. She was surprised at what she was doing. What on earth would Bradley think? She hadn’t had a single drink, the car hadn’t broken down and although she really didn’t want to be seen getting home so late, there wasn’t really a valid reason for her to stay here. But she wasn’t doing anything wrong nor had she any intention of doing anything but sleep. Perhaps she just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  Eventually she must have drifted off. She heard the boys clump through the house to their rooms sometime during the night then she went straight back to a dreamless sleep.

  She was curled up, her back to the room, when she slowly began to awaken. There was a touch on her hair . . . as light as breeze, a cat’s paw, a bird’s wing . . . She rolled over, sleepily smiling.

  ‘Catherine, are you awake?’ PJ spoke softly.

  She rolled over to see PJ crouched beside the sofa. ‘I’m awake now.’ She saw the silvery dawn light outside the window. ‘It’s early. What’s up?’

  ‘I’m heading to the beach for the sunrise. Want to come for a surf? I’ve made coffee.’

  ‘I can smell it.’ She sat up. ‘I guess so. Now I’m awake.’

  He padded out to get the coffee and Catherine went and washed her face. In the kitchen PJ poured her a mug of coffee.

  ‘I’ll have to go back to my apartment and get my swimsuit.’

  ‘There’re girls’ bikinis hanging around here. They’re on the clothesline. Drink up and let’s go. Don’t want to miss it. I’ll treat you to breakfast afterwards.’

  PJ gave her one of his T-shirts to wear over the swimsuit she found. Catherine felt strange walking the two blocks to the beach in the half light, each of them carrying a surfboard through the empty streets. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought.

  PJ hummed to himself. ‘Board not too heavy?’ he asked as they turned down a side street towards the beach.

  ‘Not really. Cumbersome. I’m not going to be able to manage this thing, y’know.’

  ‘What’s the Aussie expression? Give it a go? You might surprise yourself.’ He took her hand. ‘I’d really like you to try to get the feeling. Might help you understand me a bit.’

  She was silent. The touch of his hand felt so natural and gave her a sense of closeness with him. A warmth, like that which occurs between two friends who have shared experiences, replaced some of the guilt from the episode on Kauai. Suddenly, getting in the water, on a surfboard, seemed to be really important to her.

  It was still, but cool and she left PJ’s T-shirt on so that the fibreglass surface on the nine-foot board wouldn’t rub against her skin. They stood in the water as the board bobbed between them.

  ‘See how beautifully it floats, like a sleek yacht. Every part of the board is curved, it’s like a woman. From every angle, the top, the rocker, fore and aft, and the sides. Thin in front, thick in the centre then thin again out at the tail. It’s a sensual curve. Like a wave.’ He ran his hands along the board. ‘Okay, now lie on the board. Get comfortable, feel it mould into your body. All you have to do is stroke, like a swim stroke, smoothly and rhythmically. I’ll navigate us around the breaks to avoid paddling through them. Though they’re only gentle waves, I just want you to get the feel of being in tune with the water.’

  She nodded. ‘But how do I stand up?’

  ‘Good! Good. That’s great you’re thinking like that.’

  ‘Well, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Isn’t that what surfing is?’ said Catherine.

  ‘Sweetheart, it’s a helluva lot more than just standing up. Body surfers, board surfers, just want to interact with the wave, get on, go for the ride.’ He became serious. ‘Both feet should hit the deck at the same time, but I don’t want you to be thinking about which foot in front, landing together, what to do when. First we’ll get out there and we’ll study the waves, their timing, their pace. Waves roll at a constant pace, then there’s an interval and that’s when you turn around and get ready to paddle. When you feel the board being picked up, that’s when you stand up, if you can. But go steady, don’t think about it. Bend your knees, they’re your shock absorbers, arms go out for balance. They’re your wings to help you fly and look forward. The idea is you do it all together.’ He readied the board for her. ‘Hawaiian style is to ride all the way to the beach and step off without getting your hair wet.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Catherine, gingerly lying on the board. He made it sound so easy and she knew it wasn’t.

  PJ jumped onto his shorter board and began stroking smoothly ahead of her. Copying his movements, she was surprised at the ease and swiftness with which the board skimmed along. Expertly he weaved through the water, turning slightly every so often so that she wasn’t going through the wash of breaking waves. She saw other surfers in the distance, some riding a shallow wave, others sitting on their boards, but mainly she concentrated on following PJ.

  When they were out far enough, PJ sat upright and glanced back her. ‘Turn your board around and we’ll just sit here for a bit, okay?’

  She wobbled as she sat upright, her legs dangling on either side of the board. PJ pointed towards the eastern sky.

  ‘She’ll be up shortly.’

  They bobbed gently on the surface of the breathing water. The other surfers also paused, all watching for the moment the day awoke. The sheen on the water went from silver to bronze. Everything seemed suspended. No-one moved, even the surfboards appeared motionless in the lull between waves. And then the rim of the red gold ball was visible and, like an exhalation, the sky ran with colour, ripples ran across the sea, the roll of waves swelled, their crests tipped in pink.

  Catherine looked at PJ silhouetted against the light rising behind Diamond Head and it seemed as though he was from another world. He was a creature of the sea, as if risen from it, or perhaps he had been always anchored here. Lester had mentioned the word ‘waterman’ and now she fully understood its meaning as she looked at PJ. He seemed to have a way of interpreting the sculpture of the ocean. Now she thought that this was how Lester felt about the bond with the ocean, with the waves.

  PJ pointed at her. ‘Lie prone. Try for the next one. Come up like a push-up and then on your feet. Have the picture in your head of how you want to be and rise up to that image. All there is to it,’ he called.

  She lay flat and started stroking automatically. Then she felt the board lift lightly as if a hand beneath the sea was supporting the board and thrusting it forward. For a second she closed her eyes and saw herself standing on the board, cruising on its crest, heading for shore. Without consciously thinking about it, she found she was on her feet, half crouching. Then her arms went out, she straightened and felt the rush of the board cutting through the water, a sensation of speed and, with her eyes glued to the beach, she felt the adrenalin start to pump.

  Instinctively Catherine shifted her weight and the board cut across the face of the wave, slewed and she was off, under the water, but laughing, laughing as her face broke the surface.

  PJ paddled after her board and brought it back to where she was treading water. ‘Fantastic! You did it! How do you feel?’ His face was alight with excitement.

  ‘It was thrilling! I know I fell off quickly, but it felt like forever. It just h
appened,’ she said breathlessly, grabbing her board and dragging herself back on it.

  ‘The way you shifted your weight and planted your feet. Right foot forward. You’re a goofy foot! Ready to go again? We’ll paddle through the break, just keep your head down, or else do a push-up so the wave goes between your body and the board.’

  Catherine lost track of time and everything else except the challenge of finding the point where her board took off. And she could stand, knees bent, determinedly locking her eyes on the beach, which came closer with each ride until she found she was almost at the shore when the little wave collapsed and sank and her board slowed and she rolled into the water.

  PJ was just behind her and he jumped off his board. ‘You couldn’t have got any more out of that wave. Nearly made it to the sand.’ He gave her a wet hug. ‘Let’s eat.’

  Catherine pulled off her waterlogged T-shirt and wrapped a towel around herself, shaking her wet hair.

  ‘It’s amazing. The whole sensation. It’s like the wave is alive, it helps you, it felt . . . I can’t explain it.’

  He dropped his arm around her shoulder. ‘You don’t have to.’

  They picked up their boards, PJ taking her longer one. She slipped her arm around his waist as they walked back along the beach where a few early morning walkers were strolling along the sand. A gardener was sweeping the terrace of the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, its pink facade glowing in the early morning sun.

  Catherine couldn’t stop talking about the whole experience. It was not just the thrill of the ride but the fact she’d actually stood up the first time. PJ listened with a half smile, occasionally nodding, or answering a question.

  She was beginning to understand Lester’s explanation of the passion, the obsession, the spiritual connection that watermen have with the sea. It was a self absorption that centred on only them and the wave, its rhythm, its force, its flow that was akin to being in an hypnotic state. Except – as only a surfer knows – you are dancing on waves.

  She was ravenous and they ate a big breakfast, Catherine indulging herself with pancakes, bacon and maple syrup. It was a small outdoor café close to the beach and they propped their boards against the low rock wall while they ate. Catherine had pulled the damp T-shirt back on and had the beach towel wrapped around her waist.

  They were finishing their coffee when she heard her name.

  ‘Catherine?’

  Surprised, she turned around to see Julia Bensen and another woman walking along the beach towards them. Julia looked frankly curious, glancing from the handsome blond surfer to the wet and dishevelled Catherine.

  ‘Hi, Julia. Wonderful morning. You’re up early,’ said Catherine.

  ‘Obviously not as early as you. What’re you doing?’ asked Julia staring at PJ, who smiled at her and picked up his coffee cup and drained it.

  ‘I’ve had a surfing lesson. This is my instructor. We’ve been out since before sunrise,’ said Catherine cheerily, trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt.

  ‘Really? Surfing lessons. What fun,’ said the other woman.

  ‘She’s pretty damn good. Stood up first go,’ said PJ.

  ‘You are a busy person,’ said Julia. ‘I don’t know how you find time to fit everything in.’ She had a slightly accusing tone and Catherine knew she was referring to a recent Wives’ Club event she’d missed.

  ‘That’s why we’re out before sunrise,’ said PJ. ‘Excuse me, Catherine. I’ll get the tab.’ He walked inside to the counter.

  ‘This will be a nice surprise for Bradley when he gets back. Will he be taking lessons too?’ asked Julia.

  ‘No, he’s a swimmer not a surfer. That’s why I’m learning while he’s away. What are you doing down here?’

  ‘Oh, sorry. This is my friend Bonnie. She’s visiting from Ohio. She’s also an early riser,’ said Julia.

  ‘I live on a farm,’ smiled Bonnie. ‘And where’re you from?’

  ‘Australia. Actually, I live on a farm too, but I have some Australian surfer friends visiting here. They’re travelling round the world surfing and will be back here for the big championships at the end of the year.’ Catherine hoped Damien didn’t suddenly appear to dispute their long friendship.

  ‘Well, I hope we meet again. Good luck with the lessons.’

  ‘Thanks. Enjoy your visit. See you, Julia. Next Tuesday, isn’t it?’ said Catherine, who’d had no intention of going to the Wives’ Club tea but now thought better of it. No doubt Julia would mention all this in dispatches to her husband, Jim.

  ‘That’s right. Remember me to Bradley when you write.’

  ‘Thanks. Same to Jim.’

  Walking back through town where shops were beginning to open, PJ said, ‘Navy wives, huh? You’ll be the talk of the town no doubt.’

  ‘Possibly. They never do anything exciting. Don’t mix much outside the navy circle.’

  ‘Not like our surfer gal here. Wait till I tell the boys how well you did.’

  Damien was cooking breakfast as PJ told him about Catherine. ‘Get away! Good on you! Not too many chicks have a go. And you’re a bush girl too. So you coming out tomorrow?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Damien. I don’t want to take PJ away from his surfing. And if I’m having lessons, I should pay you, PJ.’

  ‘I enjoy your company. If you want a couple of lessons I’ll trade you for some of your photos during the championships later in the year.’

  ‘Sounds a good deal to me,’ said Damien, sitting down to a pile of scrambled eggs.

  Catherine quickly showered and got dressed. ‘Thanks for the loan of the bikini. I’d better collect Lester’s book.’

  PJ put Lester’s album on the back seat of Catherine’s car and leant through the driver’s window and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  ‘I’m proud of you. Come at the end of the day if you want to go out, when the wind has dropped.’

  ‘I don’t want to stay on baby waves forever,’ she teased.

  ‘Listen to you. Go and tell Lester how you felt this morning.’

  ‘I think he’ll be really pleased with me,’ said Catherine. ‘Thank you, PJ. You’re very understanding.’

  They stared at each other and PJ nodded, knowing she wasn’t just referring to the surf lesson. He hadn’t pushed her, he hadn’t mentioned their lovemaking on Kauai, he hadn’t made her feel uncomfortable. Their relationship had become a friendship laced with a past and an uncertain future. But Catherine felt safe. And although his kiss and touch had been warm and casual, she knew they were standing at a gateway. It would be her decision to go through it, or turn and walk away.

  Catherine jumped around Lester’s living room, showing him how she’d leapt to her feet on the board, posing as she pretended to ride an imaginary wave. He chuckled.

  ‘So you’re hooked now, I can tell. PJ sounds like a good teacher. Some guys can’t explain it well, they can only show you how they do it, which doesn’t always help. Now you just have to get out there and keep cracking waves. You do want to do that, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s a challenge. I like that. But it’s the feeling . . . that being lifted up, being part of that energy . . . I can’t explain. Well, you know what I mean.’

  ‘I do,’ he said softly. ‘PJ’s given you a gift you’ll keep all your life. I tried to get a few gals interested in my time. A couple were really good. It’s too bad more girls don’t surf. They think they have to sit on the beach and admire the guys. And the guys like it that way! So, you going to get that husband of yours into it?’

  ‘I don’t think so. No way,’ said Catherine. ‘Gosh, I hope we don’t get transferred to some landlocked place. That’d be awful. Anyway, we have a couple more years here.’

  ‘I hope so! I’ll miss you if you move away. Keep this as your home base.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere for a bit. Maybe you could come and sit at the beach and watch me have another go sometime? Then you could get out on a board with PJ again. We could all go together,’ enthused C
atherine.

  ‘I’d enjoy that,’ he said. ‘But you’ll find surfing is a very individual thing. So, you giving up your morning swims with Kiann’e and going surfing?’

  ‘No. PJ suggested I go out with him at the end of the day after he’s finished working and lessons and stuff.’

  Kiann’e listened to Catherine’s bubbling description of her surfing experience.

  ‘You seemed to have surprised yourself. Is that because you come from the country? Or has PJ got a lot to do with it?’

  ‘He’s a terrific teacher.’ And seeing Kiann’e’s amused look, she added, ‘Of course he does! He’s a real soul surfer . . .’

  ‘So he’s into grooving on the feeling and not surfing to get on the circuit? A lot of the local guys get a bit gnarley – to use their expression – about the outsiders coming in and surfing their breaks,’ said Kiann’e. ‘Abel John gets pretty heavy about it.’

  ‘Like some of the Aussies who’re doing so well. But they move on; seems that a lot of the Californians are moving here to stay. Anyway I think I might do a picture story on PJ and his boards for the paper.’

  ‘Well, you’re spending a lot of time with him. You saw him on Kauai too, didn’t you?’

  Catherine felt guilty about not being able to tell her about the episode with PJ. She wondered how much Kiann’e suspected about what had happened on Kauai and didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t fair to Bradley to talk about what had happened between her and PJ and she still suffered pangs of guilt when she thought about it. But her relationship with PJ was different now. They were just friends, no cause for embarrassment at all.

  The two girls were heading back along the beach when they noticed a knot of people and equipment in front of an apartment block. As they got closer they could see stands with silver screens bouncing the sunlight onto two people standing over a body lying on the sand.

  ‘God, has someone died? What’s going on?’ Catherine shaded her eyes to see better. ‘They look like movie people. Oh, yes, they’re filming Hawaii Five-O. Let’s go watch.’

  They joined several other beachgoers who had gathered to watch a scene being filmed for one of America’s favourite TV shows, but as everyone seemed to be just standing around they moved on.