What does it mean to be a Waterman?
By Brian Eddy
Small Preface:
Before we delve into my personal existential imposter syndrome, there is something we have to get out of the way. First, the term waterman is not inclusive, however I am not writing the term water person simply because the ring does not feel the same. Is this simply because I’ve heard waterman for the last 27 years of my life, quite possibly? We need to come up with a better term, that is inclusive for all genders as a community, however there are obviously bigger fish to fry in the world currently than this one lonely term that I will ironically try to analyze for the next couple hundred words.
“If you asked 10 different surfers what a waterman is then you’d get 11 different answers” a quote written by Stuart Holmes Colmen in his biography about Eddie Aikau titled Eddie Would Go. As Eddie’s story drifts further into legend, I sit thousands of miles away from Oahu and almost 50 years after his abrupt death, pondering as to what it means to be a waterman. My analytical brain needs a line to be drawn where there seems to be no way to discern one, so I will simply ask questions and ponder further until the next headline or meaningless short form content grabs my attention.
The first question that pops into my head is which disciplines in the ocean would make you a waterman? The most sexy and obvious discipline is surfing. Someone who can harness the power of the ocean to perform their own sort of dance on a wave, performing layback hacks on open faces and crouching to fit into tight almond barrels. However, in theory a surfer may never stick their head below the surface of the water and in fact for most of the kings and queens of surfing, I have a hard time believing that they would be able to identify the difference between a perch and a wrasse or even a seal vs a sea lion, meaning they don’t have a relationship with the animals in the sea. Which then asks the next question: are the true water people, the divers?
Divers feel a different experience, they can interact with animals, see stunning kelp forests and coral reefs. This is an incredible experience that no land lover would truly be able to articulate. However a diver would never have the feeling of the entire power of the pacific accelerating them down the line of a barreling wave, but we can get our own adrenaline another way: by seeking out specific fish, marine mammals or inverts. Surfers would never be able to understand the idea of getting to a rock and finding the most vibrant sea slug that is half the size of your pinky nail, but then again, I think I’m pretty weird when it comes to that stuff too.
Something neither divers nor surfers get is finding deep ocean. That's where the paddlers (and now maybe the foilers) come in. Both of the last two don’t really interact with deep ocean as they either need a reef to dive to or the reef for the wave to break on. When I say paddlers, I do mean proper expedition leaders over multiple days, such as someone who paddles from New York to London, or does a channel crossing such as the Molokai, as the ocean does move differently as the bottom of the ocean begins to fade into the darkness.
Can any of these instances be a waterman or is a waterman something more? Is Kelly Slater a waterman if he only interacts with the ocean (as far as I know) only a couple hundred feet off shore when there are thousands of miles to explore or is he belittled down to just being a surfer?
It’s time for the next question! Does time have to do with earning your title as a waterman? It undoubtedly does, but the real question is how much time? Do the weekend warriors count or should they be getting up for dawn patrol during the week in order to truly earn the title? For the answer to this and because of my lack of creativity I turn to Malcom Gladwell, who proposes that in order to be truly good at anything you need 10,000 hours. Once you get there, you can start putting hours towards the title, but hey that’s just how I feel, I’m not the judge on who is a waterman or not.
The great question that I’ve been trying to avoid, but needs to be asked: does fresh water count? Upon first glance and little thought, I personally scoff at the idea. During further inspection, specifically the loss of sand at C street due to the Mitiljia Dam and other watersheds affecting the ocean, I personally cannot see how they can be excluded. Going back to our charging section, there really is no comparison to the folks going down the waterfalls. Hiking into the woods just to paddle down a waterfall, you have to be kidding me. I’ve nearly pooped myself looking at some ironically poop colored water on a local river during a heavy rain.
As the self-appointed judge of this current quandary, I have decided on one parameter that is for sure. You have to love all of the ocean. You cannot be a waterman if you only enjoy the ocean when it's glassy with transparent tubes, because that's not loving something. A waterman will love the ocean when it's glassy the same as when they are taking spray from all angles from the random wind vortexes. If you disagree with me about not loving something, then go ask your partner if it's okay if you only love them when they are in a good mood. In fact, I’ve found some boring days when the ocean has little to no energy moving through it.
To end being a waterman simply means that your time off requests at work are decided by weather windows and fish runs rather than the normal holidays.
This is my contribution to this eternal conversation that may only be heard by the void that is the internet, but if there is one thing that I ask when you make your definition, don’t make the line narrowly include yourself.
Thanks so much for reading!