Into the pipeline2010On a cloudless day I paddle through emerald and turquoise water, suffer the gentle wrath of churning whitewash and take my place in the Waikiki line-up. The sun is blinding, the water is bathtub warm and the trade winds smell of frangipani and sunscreen. To my left is the majesty of craggy Diamond Head; to my right, a row of fellow neophytes from at least 10 countries straddle their boards and stare seaward. The horizon is a flotilla of yachts, catamarans, outrigger canoes and glass-bottom boats.
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