We build canoes.

Shipment Status

October 21, 2011

For all of our California, Washington, Canada, and Japan customers-- Here are some much needed updates. Our container should arrive at Newport Aquatic Center next week. Danny Ching will be unloading the canoes and then contacting all of the California customers to arrange for pick-up.

The Seattle and Canada canoes will be getting picked up by KAS Transport on the last week of October. Canoes will be driven up to Alan Goto in Seattle by the end of the month.

Our five Japanese Pueos are all under production, and will hopefully begin shipping out on JAL in early November. Because of the way the air-freighting works, they likely will fly up in pairs as they are completed. Kenny Keneko will receive and distribute them as necessary.

A huge Mahalo to Newport Aquatic Center and all of the staff there for their support of our annual containers.

Tere Maita'i

October 07, 2011

One day changed everything for the outrigger canoe in Hawai’i. On October 17^th, 1976 the Tahitian built canoe, Tere Mata’i, followed by three other Tahitian crews, blazed across a glassy Kaiwi channel to dominate the Moloka’i Hoe. The Hawaiian and Tahitian outrigger canoes went down drastically different paths in the 19^th and 20^th centuries; and it was not until the 1976 Moloka’i that the varying canoes and styles of paddling came into direct competition with each other. The victor of the competition was clear, and it forced Hawai’i to figure out an identity for the Hawaiian Outrigger Canoe.

The Tahitian domination brought Hawai’i into the modern age of outrigger canoeing as a sport and those who participated in Hawai’i were forced to look deeply into the meaning and preservation of that sport. The controversial spark of 1976 was the Tere Mata’i. Not only was it completely revolutionary in design, it was equally revolutionary in construction. It was built with laminated strips of balsa wood, which allow the builder to move out of the matrix defined by the Koa log. In pre-contact Polynesia, the individuality of each log made every canoe unique. When massive Redwood logs would drift from North America and land on the shores of Kaua’i and Ni’ihau, Hawaiians would use those logs to make huge voyaging canoes. These Redwoods of pre-contact Hawai’i opened up possibilities for the Hawaiians in just the same way that composite and laminate canoes open up possibilities now. The Tahitians moved on from the matrix of the log with wood laminate construction without qualms as part of the evolution of the canoe.

The success of the Tere Mata’i in 1976 divided the paddling community. The HCRA adopted a strict set of strict regulations based on measurements of fifty hybrid fishing canoes in Hawai’i in order to ensure that the Hawaiian Canoe did not move out of the matrix defined by the log; effectively ending the evolution of the canoe.

The Tahitian canoe has continued to evolve freely with very few restrictions, while its Hawaiian counterpart has only had halting progress within the regulated limitations. There are currently only two sanctioned competitive models of canoe in Hawai’i. Nowadays OHCRA sanctioned canoe races are extremely fair. When someone wins, the design of their canoe will rarely be considered a factor in the win. This has brought the focus completely on the people in the canoe rather than the canoe itself.

In removing the uniqueness of each individual canoe, we are losing sight of what makes paddling more than just a sport. It's not a test of fitness. We don't race merely to see who the best paddlers are. We paddle to perpetuate the canoe and the history of Polynesia.

The Moloka’i Hoe is undoubtedly the greatest and most influential outrigger canoe race in the world. Other races are longer, harder, and more competitive, but the Hoe is the granddaddy of them all. It also happens to be governed by the only remaining association in the world that won’t let go of the archaic restrictions on design.

“Kamanu,” in our name, references the Manu on a six-man canoe. It is a unique design feature only found on Hawaiian canoes. It leads the canoe, encompasses the canoe, and is a constant reminder to us that whatever path the company takes, we will always be rooted in the tradition of Hawaiian canoe paddling. It doesn’t mean that we have to restrict ourselves to what has been deemed “traditional,” but it means that we should never forget where we come from

In the same fashion. Let's never forget the path that the canoe has taken, but lets perpetuate the life of the outrigger canoe by letting it evolve.

Goodluck to all of the competitors in the Moloka'i Hoe this weekend. Be safe, take care of the ocean, and respect your canoe. It has traveled over 2,000 years to arrive at its present state. Let’s hope that it continues to evolve over the next 2,000 years.

Battle of the Century

September 23, 2011

“Un… Duex… Trois….” Hundreds of motor-boats and thousands of spectators on land, all counting down the seconds in unison. It felt like the fate of the world rested on the outcome of this timeless battle. “Quatre… Cinq…Six.” Everything seemed remotely familiar. But nothing was clicking. Was this paddling? The sport that I’d committed my life to felt like a shadow of what I was witnessing. “Sept… Huit…Nuef.” He crosses the line and the crowd goes berserk. Possibly the most epic instant in outrigger canoe racing history went down somewhere between sept and nuef. And nobody outside of Pape’ete on August 6th, 2011 knows anything about it.

I was at the Super Aito. Lucky enough to have convinced my wife that it was in her best interests to spend the last day of our honeymoon on an 18’ motor boat. Not going through the picturesque lagoons of Tahiti’s outer islands, but through Pape’ete harbor and the surrounding area. Dwarfed by 200 other diesel spewing boats watching the 100 best Tahitian paddlers battling it out to become 2011’s Super Aito Champion.

The race started innocently enough with a time trial. Each paddler is traditionally released in one minute intervals. It’s a race against the clock and against the mind. You’re battling only with the ever-present specter of your competitors. After a one hour time trial Rete Ebb was 1st with a 13 second lead over his soon-to-be nemesis, two time 2nd place finisher, Yoann Cronsteadt. Nearly a third of the pack finished within three minutes of Rete’s winning time. Meaning that the race was open to nearly anyone going into day two.

At seven the next morning we were jockeying for position among the hundreds of security patrolled spectator boats to try and see the action up front. For most of the race it was only between two people. Rete and Yoann. The throng of spectator boats surrounding them was enough to throw off a surfable wake to everyone else behind them. But they were alone, as if in their own private ocean. Dead calm, so every stroke was taken as if it were their last. Yoann was able to pull away and finish with a 20 second lead over Rete. The minute between 2nd and 3rd felt like a short eternity in the scale of Tahitian racing. Usually the pack is so tight, the competition so intense, that open water between paddlers is a rarity. The next six finishers were all within 30 seconds of each other. After two hours the last place finisher was within 20 minutes of the leaders.

Going into the final race Rete had a seven second lead over Yoann. And they each had over a minute on their nearest competitor. Making it clear that this race was just about the two of them. The final leg started at noon, the hottest and windiest part of the day. The course starts with a brutal 90 minute leg straight upwind. Even with hundreds of spectator boats throwing off wake, it wasn’t enough to give a second of rest to any of the paddlers. Rete and Yoann sat about a hundred yards behind the leaders for most of the upwind portion. And then, as if on cue, they both pulled up to the leaders together in time for the turn at Point Venus.

The race proceeded straight downwind through very surfable conditions for half an hour and then into the lagoons near Pirae and into Pape’ete Harbor. Rete outsurfed Yoann and put a massive lead on the rest of the pack. Enough so that most spectators didn’t even bother to follow the pack as it went on its course five minutes past the finish line to circle around back. Nobody doubted that Rete was going to walk away as champion. And then something happened. In the final minutes of the race, when most paddlers begin to resign themselves to their fate, Yoann made an incredible comeback. As we sat moored on the finish line watching the pack come at us, we saw Rete looking as if he was running from something. And then Yoann emerged from the crowd of boats. With a look of determination I’ve never seen on a paddler, and closing huge gaps with every stroke. Rete, from an insurmountable lead looked as if he was about to get passed by Yoann, who only needed to come within seven seconds to win the race.

It was like no paddling event I’ve ever imagined. I felt like I was on the sidelines for the final seconds of the Superbowl. Witnessing the losing team throwing an impossible hail mary in slow motion into the fumbling hands of a running back in the end zone. Rete crossed the line ahead of Yoann. “Un.. deux…trios.” Everyone counted outloud. And then Yoann crossed right at Sept. Seven seconds. And the crowd literally exploded. For one instant, nothing else in the world mattered but the titanic battle we all felt a part of. After fighting each other for five hours and 23 minutes over two days and three races, they tied. Regardless of how the judges analyzed the split seconds, everyone knew it was a tie. The final call was in favor of Rete. But, neither of them gave an inch, and neither was able to walk away with it.

• Luke Evslin

We Build Canoes. And Sell T-shirts.

September 16, 2011

Wow. We're finally following through once again. If you've tried to order apparel from us sometime in the last year, you probably heard us say that we were on the verge of having an online store. But then twelve months passed by and you forgot our false promise. Well, we're proud to announce that the day that you've all been waiting for is finally here. The Kamanu Store is open for business. Don't judge it too hard, as it's still being worked on and items will be added all the time. As a way of saying sorry for the delay, we're offering free shipping on almost* everything in the store to anywhere in the US through October 1st.

store.kamanucomposites.com

*Seats, 'iakos, rudders, and canvas canoe bags do not qualify for free shipping.

Watch Out For Props

September 09, 2011

This is a new format of post for KamanuComposites.com. This essay was written on the eve of the 2011 Na Wahine and the Moloka'i Hoe in order to bring awareness to the dangers of open ocean changes. What is written is entirely the opinion of the author.

The Moloka’i Hoe has repeatedly changed my life. When I was twelve, I watched in awe from the escort boat as my dad and the Kaiola Canoe Club senior masters raced across the Kaiwi. I remember thinking, “This is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” Five years later as a desperate and reckless seventeen year old about to leave Hawai’i for college, I stole my brother’s ID card and switched to a canoe club that didn’t know my age. I did that channel thinking that I may never get the chance to race across again. But I came back. Repeatedly. I would fly home from college every year to race in the Moloka’i Hoe, the Moloka’i Relay, and the Moloka’i Solo. I couldn’t get enough of the Kaiwi channel.

What I learned over 20 crossings is that the race is never the same and it’s nearly impossible to prepare for. Just when you think you have a good grasp of what’s coming, the channel changes. Which is what I’ve learned life is like also. At last year’s Moloka’i Hoe I was poised to jump in for the first change off of La’au Point. Standing on the edge of the boat waiting for the call to jump, I was confident in my knowledge of the channel, confident in my skill as a paddler, and confident in my physical fitness. Before every race start, I would visualize and attempt to embrace the pain that I knew was coming. I’m sure that I had a smile on my face as I jumped in, thinking about the pain that was about to consume me for the next six hours of racing. But, as confident and knowledgeable as I felt, I had no idea what was coming.

To make the story short, I jumped in and was run over. The prop hit me five times. It split my pelvis, severed the gluteal muscle in my right leg, and broke off three spinal processes. Through luck and the fast actions of my escort driver, my team-mates, my coach, the paramedics, the Moloka'i fire department, the Maui Air Ambulance, the surgeons, and the 3rd floor nurses at Maui Memorial Hospital, I lived. And now, with the support of my family, my friends, and the paddling community, I may have a full recovery. The prop was less than an inch from ending my life or paralyzing me on nearly every pass it made through my body. But it didn’t. I can walk, I can paddle, and I’m alive.

But I’m not writing this to tell everyone my story. I’m writing this because it’s important that we don’t forget how dangerous it is out there. Shortly after my accident a swimmer was hit and killed off of the Big Island. A couple of months ago a diver off of Lana’i was hit and killed. Two days ago a swimmer was hit in a race off of Maui and is currently battling for his life. These are not isolated accidents. They won’t stop until we do something about it. The next time it happens in the Moloka’i Hoe somebody will probably die. And it will be our fault for standing by and letting it happen.

There is no substitute for prop guards. I understand that there are price and efficiency concerns, but they are irrelevant. Every boat in every relay race in Hawai’i needs a guard. Period. The organizers won’t do it if they feel there is community resistance. So we need to stand up together to make sure that it happens. But, until that gets enforced, there are some basic things that we can do to avoid accidents.

Every team should have a simple change protocol in place. Maybe that protocol will vary depending on the team and their driver, but it needs to be followed regardless of the experience level. An example could be:

1) Before any paddlers jump the engine needs to be in neutral.

2) A spotter, other than the captain, will verify that the prop is disengaged and will give the call for each paddler to jump.

3) When every paddler has swum well clear of the boat, the spotter will notify the captain that the prop can be engaged.

4) When picking up paddlers the same process will be reversed. The captain will come within swimming distance of the paddlers and then disengage the prop.

5) When the spotter verifies that the prop is disengaged, they will give the call to the paddlers to swim to the idling boat.

It’s up to each of us to enforce that protocol. Until the governing bodies sit down and figure out how they are going to make the race safer (making it an iron race, extending the first change, mandating prop guards, etc), it’s up to each of us to do it for ourselves. More than anything else, the paddlers, the coaches, and the drivers all need to be aware of the acute danger of propellers. Let’s work together as a community to make sure that nobody gets hit again.

• Luke Evslin