Surfing Detective 00 - The Making of Murder on Molokai

session is over, where do they paddle in to shore? Until you can answer these questions, you’re not ready to get wet.
    There is a big difference, you see, between waves in town and in the country. A four foot swell at Sunset is equivalent to about six feet at Waikiki. The reason for this is that country waves are thicker and carry more water. And are more unpredictable. Due to their larger mass and erratic nature, when country waves break they can peak up suddenly and dramatically. Nearly
doubling
in height. Regardless of the surf forecast, bigger than anticipated sets may abruptly loom on the horizon and break far outside. As the boiling white water rolls in, all you can do is “duck dive” or “turn turtle.” After a set or two crashes in front of you, you’re totally
gassed.
    Welcome to the North Shore!
    The rips and unpredictable swells at Sunset that present problems in winter were fairly under control today. Or so it appeared. This was October when the North Shore can be flat as a lake. But we got lucky. A consistent four feet. And as we soon discovered–
higher.
    “Outside!” Alika pointed on the horizon to an ominous swell–a rogue wave–more than twice the size of any we’d seen. This maverick was deep forest green and peaking fast. Ho, brah!
    We paddled like scared gremmies.
Arms throbbing. Adrenaline pumping.
The wave’s towering face was nearly vertical when we got there. Too late to drop in.
Way too late.
With one last gasp I paddled straight up over the top.
    “Swoosh!”
went the curling lip, blowing back a white gauzy spray that hit me like hard rain.
“Boom!”
The wave exploded.
Lucky I wasn’t sucked over the falls,
I consoled myself. Then I looked around.
Where’s Alika?
He was gone. Had he eaten it and got washed into the reef? This could be bad.
Very bad.
    Then in the distance near shore I saw the tiny figure of a surfer ripping on the very rogue wave that had almost pummeled me.
Alika.
Impossible!
    “You miss one good wave, brah,” my cousin said as he paddled back
–stoked–
into the lineup. When I asked him how he caught it, he patted me on the back and simply said: “Show you
bumbye.
” In other words, soon enough.
    Between sets later that afternoon we sat on our boards contemplating a thousand tiny sunbeams on the dappled sea. My eyes got so accustomed to these dancing lights that the ocean surrounding them began to look black as midnight. An optical illusion, no doubt. But the apparent blackness of the sea got me thinking. Suddenly I had a strong premonition about the Moloka‘i case.
    Gazing across the inky water at a coconut palm on shore, I imagined one of its nuts falling and spewing sweet liquor on the sand.
    Like that fallen coconut, this case was about to crack wide open.

XI: Chapter Thirty-Two: Wrap Up

    After Kai visits Adrienne in hospital on the last page of the book, he heads for Waikiki
and goes surfing—feeling restored,
balanced, and free. In earlier drafts, the ending wrapped up two additional strands in the novel: The case of deadbeat dad, Leonard Souza, and Kai’s long distance relationship with Niki. Not to mention one last call (and one last joke) from his offbeat attorney friend, Tommy Woo. This wrap up, comprising about two pages in draft, was condensed into one paragraph
in the published book. This is another example of sacrificing
details of Kai’s life and work for the sake of a fast-moving read.

(cut from)
thirty-two

    Later that Friday morning I drove to my Maunakea Street office and called Mrs. Souza.
    First, she gave me the bad news: Her deadbeat ex-husband was up to his old tricks–threatening her by phone and loitering on her property, despite a restraining order. Though the last person on earth I felt like confronting again was Leonard Souza–especially brandishing his gleaming serrated blade–I told her I would be right over.
    Then Mrs. Souza gave me the good news: My presence was not required. She had called the police several times. Finally they arrested her ex for violating the restraining order.
    With the scourge of Leonard Souza off my hands, I headed back to the Waikiki Edgewater with one thing on my mind.
    Go surf, brah!
    Inside my apartment the red light on my answering machine blinked. Whoever the caller was I didn’t want to know. I slipped on my board shorts, peeked under the bandage on my tender shoulder, then headed out the door.
    When I stepped into the hall and was about to lock up, curiosity got the better of