Nobody gets more intimate with the ocean than a kayaker. A boat’s gunwale separates a sailor from the element, swimmers can’t see past the next wave; only a kayaker skims a thin plane where water and air touch. On top of the wave with a bow suspended in midair one moment, taking white spray into face and blue water into cockpit the next second, we belong to both worlds. Touch, smell and taste of the water merge with a view of the ocean extending for miles. That’s what gives us intimacy with the Big Water.

Am I getting a bit too romantic? Not at all! Perhaps because the water is so warm, and waves run long and sweet, there is something erotic in riding the waves in Hawaii. In fact, I think of the ocean as “Her.” Around Kailua Beach she is usually kind, warm and playful. Her ample blue body gently embraces visitors coming from a different world and plays with them. A timid or laidback person can have a pleasant summer fling, one that brings a smile when remembered. The strong-headed suitors, who make a sacrifice of hard training, may get the privilege of a dance, but she will choose the tempo. Arrogance and disrespect will be punished swiftly and severely.

My favorite place to start a kayaking adventure is Kailua Beach. First, I know of no other beach in America that has more beautiful, powdery, golden sand. A reef moderates waves rushing at the shore and gives beginners a kindly break. If you feel you can take on the open ocean—a twenty-minute paddle will guide you past Bird Rock where the full force of the open water is yours to experience. It’s worth mentioning that the bay has a built in safety mechanism—prevailing winds drive towards the beach, except for infrequent days when a southern Kona wind blows. In effect, an unfortunate or clumsy kayaker will eventually wash out on the beach to be reunited with his kayak. Happened to me more than once... By the same token, on Kona days, beware, once outside the island’s shadow, the wind picks up in a dramatic way and may blow a kayaker out into the blue desert.

I started my ocean kayaking career in a sturdy, wide hipped craft that I bought second hand from a rental place. I would recommend the same for all who aspire to making the ocean their playground. It carried me faithfully for at least a year while I was building stamina, paddling skills and audacity to try a surfski. I watched with envy Polynesian Gods and Goddesses zipping past me in their long, skinny crafts, effortlessly propelling themselves through the waves as though some magic force did all the work for them. I wanted to be just like them! That’s when I met Bob Twogood.

Bob was a national kayaking champion in his younger years, and runs a kayak outfitting place in Kailua. His is not the only establishment that rents kayaks in town, but he does have the distinction of being the most versatile. A two-hour trip to Molokua Islands with a picnic on the beach? Very well, he will rent you a kayak, paddles and everything you need, including a guide if you feel intimidated. You think there is a kayak racer in you? That’s even better; he will put you on a surfski and teach you how to paddle properly. Actually, one of the easiest ways to get into surfski racing is to sign up for his racing camp. The details can be found at his website (www.twogoodkayaks.com). You can learn how to ride a surfski on your own, but with instruction it will take only a fraction of the time. The balance of time will be yours—to race, surf the waves or explore the shore.

Bob gave me a ride home after one of our kayak club outings, and I confessed my ambition: I wanted to take part in the great race from the island of Molokai to Oahu. Thirty-two nautical miles across the Molokai Channel. For the landlocked boy who paddled lakes and streams, that was an idea so full of arrogance that I would not even dream it unless I’d had a double rum before bedtime. Bob looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and said, “You can do it if you paddle from Kailua Beach to Rabbit Island and back every other day, for the next year.” That’s a sixteen-mile round trip, I calculated quickly. I can do it! In fact, I’ve done it already. But, not every other day, I had to admit to myself. To this day, I am not sure if Bob had an ulterior motive in saying what he said, perhaps selling me a new racing kayak, for example. No matter. I am grateful for his advice and encouragement; it changed my life. I owe him.

Come with me, we will do our Rabbit Island run together, as I did it so many times. We better start early; I don’t want to be on the water after 10 o’clock. It is not really hot, and the breeze and splashing water keeps body temperature comfortable; it’s sun that I’m concerned about. I have already had a skin cancer removed, why ask for more?

My bright yellow kayak is over eighteen feet long and weighs only twenty-two pounds. Thanks to a carbon fiber inlay, it’s much lighter and stiffer than my first boat. I put it gently into the water, hop into the cockpit and plunge a paddle. The boat accelerates from a standing start as we cross white surf and I direct the bow due east. The strokes adjust to the rhythm of waves, the wind settles on my left cheek and I reach a joyful sensation of belonging. The body turns automatically with the paddle, the bow slaps happily on waves, that’s when I feel truly spiritual.

Flat Island stays on the right side and the course takes us outside the reef, where waves are bigger. Two volcanic isles named Molokua (twin islands in Hawaiian), pale yellow sand of Waimanalo Beach, steep range of Koolau Mountains create landmarks so distinct and beautiful that it’s easy to ignore tension and pain slowly building up in shoulder muscles. A lighthouse of Mokapu’u comes into clear view and soon it’s time to turn back. The return trip will be easier with the wind at my back, and the kayak accelerating for an exhilarating surfing run whenever a nice wave happens.

It always pays to keep alert. Last year I was paddling the same route in January (when whales frequent the area) and keeping my eyes glued to the open ocean, when suddenly something big and black appeared in my peripheral vision. Yup, that was a whale, perhaps a hundred yards away, between me and Waimanalo Beach.

So, how can you have this unique experience? If you are like most other visitors to Hawaii, you book your Waikiki hotel, rent a car, get lost in the city and arrive on Kailua Beach around lunch time—angry, hungry and generally not in a condition for a romantic adventure with Miss Ocean.

Nothing is wrong with Waikiki and big hotels—if your interest lies in good food, swimming, getting a bit of sun and a nice siesta in an air-conditioned room. But the adventurous types who seek excitement and a bit of rough play in the ocean will do better with a vacation rental where the action is, in Kailua.

Let your fingers talk to a keyboard, Google something along the line of “Hawaiian beach vacation Kailua” and you will get a nice, clean accommodation close to the beach that will make it possible to start your ocean romance early, hide from the noon time sun and do it again in the afternoon. On top of it, you will pay much less than a hotel charges.

Kailua itself is a pleasant town with all the services you might need—banks, stores, hospital, post office, restaurants, cinemas... what else one might need? At the same time it is a small town filled with relaxed people and easy traffic. It can easily be reached from Honolulu Airport on Highway H3 (twenty minutes, and the highway is practically never congested) and from Honolulu city by Pali Highway (twenty minutes when traffic is light but it can be much longer during rush hours).

A very special feature of Kailua is the prominent presence of athletically minded people. You will see more people biking or running than walking, and those who do walk, carry swimming goggles, paddles and other instruments of exercise. My daughter claims that Kailua holds the highest proportion of well-built men in America, perhaps in the world. It is a good place for people watching.

About the kayak race I mentioned—I still train for it. I started the racing season with Kanaka Ikaika, a local surf ski/outrigger racing club, and thought that I was doing reasonably well until the ever-longer runs took me to the starting point at the Makai Pier. The sixteen-mile course did not look particularly threatening until we turned around Mokapu’u Point into Molokai Channel. Winds picked up suddenly and sets of big waves focused my attention on the special challenges of navigating the channel. Yes, I have completed this race although the party was already on when I discreetly pulled in. I’ve decided that I might need a bit more training before attempting the Big One again. Or maybe I need a new racing kayak; will have to talk to Bob.