Liberty Challenge
Posted on Jun 29, 2012
Kamanu Composites was one of the proud sponsors of this year's Liberty Challenge in New York City. To commemorate the sponsorship, Luke Evslin flew to NYC to participate for his first time. This is his story...
In a city where nobody stands out, I was being stared at. Once I got over my self-consciousness at being the focus of a dozen sets of eyes on the subway, I began to stare right back. I did so in defiance of the final advice of my city host: “don’t dawdle and don’t stare.” Growing up in Hawai’i we’re continually told that we live in a melting pot of cultures. Standing on the subway in New York, I felt as if I’d lived my entire life in a bubble. It was like one of those pictures in Life Magazine showing the various faces of Earth. Everyone was represented and nobody seemed to be speaking English. Looking through the crowd it could have been any city in the world. Taken as a whole, it could only be New York City. Finally we got to my stop (which I’d rehearsed over and over in my head, “Fulton... Fulton... Fulton”) and I, in my obnoxiously bright surf shorts and t-shirt, picked up my Kialoa paddles and stepped off.
I wove my way up through the steaming mass of people in the bowels of NYC and finally emerged into the humid heat of the street. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the harsh light, it was as if I’d stepped into another world. Being a block away from Wall Street I was even more out of place than I was in the diversity of the subway. I was standing amid a moving sea of white men in suits. WIth no ocean in sight to rely on for a sense of direction and street numbers being meaningless for me, I took out my Iphone and just made sure that the blinking dot on the screen was heading towards the water. After a short walk that felt like traversing a continent, I finally got to my destination. The Best Western.
I stepped through the door into the air conditioned lobby and, for the first time in hours, finally felt comfortable. To the left was a French team, behind me the Brazilians, in front of me the Hawaiians, and scattered about were various representatives of the different east coast and Canadian canoe clubs. The group was nearly as diverse as the subway, but with one important difference. Everyone was wearing surf shorts, everyone had a paddle nearby, and everyone wore a t-shirt representing some past race. After two flights totaling 11 hours (yay for direct flights on Hawaiian), a taxi ride for an hour, a train ride for 40 minutes, a subway ride for 30 minutes, and a 20 minute walk, I was finally at the Hawaiian Airlines Liberty Challenge.
This is one of the few races that isn’t really about the competition of the race. It’s about the experience of being in New York City and being a part of the outrigger canoe culture in a place that you would least expect it. We tend to get so wrapped up in our paddling lives in Hawai’i that we forget what else is out there. Travel to a race like the Liberty Challenge and it’s a quick reminder of why we do this. It’s about being part of a community much greater than any of us. And it’s about perpetuating an ancient, unbroken, and living culture. While it can be easy to take that for granted when you’re racing across the Kaiwi Channel or between the islands of Huahine and Raiatea, it’s impossible to forget when you’re racing in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty.
The race itself takes place in the busiest waterway in the world. Imagine all of the canoes in the Moloka’i Hoe, but turn them all into massive ferries, barges, drunk yachters, and reckless speed boats. Then spin them around so that they are all traveling in seemingly random directions. With the final touch being that they have zero regard for the 45’ canoes in their way. Add in 4 mph currents that are hard to predict and the most aggressive OC-6 paddlers in the world (they’re New Yorkers, they were born aggressive) and you have an idea of what the Liberty Challenge is about.
My crew was yelled at, spun out, stabbed in the back (literally), and nearly run over. For the first time in my life, I swore at the steersmen next to me. We took advantage of the raging current by going 10 mph down the middle of the Hudson and then we hovered 4” from the seawall of the East River at 5 mph to avoid the torrent going against us. The mixed crew I had the honor of steering won by a few yards. The steersmen that I had cussed out moments before proudly congratulated us on a great race. It was as if we had just had the fight of our lives with mortal enemies and then crossed the line as best friends. That is the beauty of outrigger canoe paddling.
Photo Courtesy of Ken Missbrenner and New York Outrigger Canoe Club