The Islands (23 page)

Catherine laughed. ‘Good theory, but I don't think that's the cause. I'll adjust. I'm so glad I'm in Hawaii. I just hope we stay here a couple of years. Hey, I'm starting my course tonight.'

‘Great. You should take a portrait of Lester. I think he misses the limelight a bit.'

‘Good idea. And one of you, dancing on the beach at sunset. Not at the Moonflower, somewhere quieter . . . What about the beach opposite your aunty's land?'

‘Fine by me. Figure out the camera first.'

Catherine loved her first photography class, though some of the more mathematical and technical aspects of it were not her forte. She showed Bradley what she'd been learning, taking several pictures of him as he browsed through a magazine.

‘See, later on I can get extra lenses and filters for special effects, put stars in the sunlight on the ocean and . . .'

‘Honey, you're doing the course, not me. I don't need a full recap of each lesson. And what do you want all those expensive extras for? The guy probably has a deal with a supplier and it's not as though you need to take professional photos.' He turned back to his magazine.

Catherine was tempted to make a comment about the offer from Vince to bring him photos for the
News
, but she didn't want to remind him of her participation in the rally.

As time slipped by, Catherine found she was busy from early morning till evening. She dropped Bradley outside his office, although it was close enough for him to walk, drove to Waikiki, swam and walked with Kiann'e, had coffee with Lester, then filled in the day with all her domestic chores. She had several gatherings with the Wives' Club, attended her photography classes, regularly popped in to see Vince at the paper and had started working on her major photography assignment.

‘We have to do a series of portraits that tell a story . . . not just a straight head and shoulders type photo,' she explained to Bradley. ‘Can I shoot you down at the harbour in your uniform?'

‘I guess so. But really, Catherine, what are you going to do with all these pictures?'

‘It's part of the course and it doesn't cost anything to print them. I'm learning darkroom techniques as well. We have to submit a portfolio of photos for our grade. But there is also a competition that all the class is entering.'

She was pleased with some of the shots she took of Bradley in his crisp white uniform, sunglasses and naval cap as he stood in sunshine, the shadow of a huge dark navy vessel looming behind him. The bollard with thick ropes on the wharf next to Bradley's immaculate white shoes was a study in contrasts.

She photographed Kiann'e in a sarong and lei, backlit by the setting sun with her long hair loose, dancing on the sand at the beach near her aunty's house. They were beautiful pictures but scarcely original ideas. Catherine took other pictures afterwards during the informal supper with family, of visitors and relatives who dropped by as Aunty Lani dished out food to everyone. She snapped the jolly Hawaiian woman ladling out food onto plates with a small girl tugging at her muu-muu.

Bradley also had decided to do a short course for admin staff. ‘I thought if you're out a couple of nights a week you wouldn't mind if I did this course. It'll finish before I have to leave and it all helps towards further promotion.'

So while Bradley sat in the lecture room at the base, Catherine had dinner at Aunty Lani's with Kiann'e. She carried plates inside and helped with the clearing away.

‘You're almost one of the family now,' said Aunty Lani. ‘Here, take this leftover chicken curry home for your husband.'

‘Thanks, Aunty. He'll love it. He goes to class straight after work so he'll be starving,' said Catherine.

‘How's the picture taking going?' asked Uncle Henry.

‘Good. I'm still looking for a few more people to photograph. There's a trip to Kauai for the winner of a photo competition and I'm dying to go back there.'

‘Great, you know you can always stay with Beatrice. Take some pictures on Po'ipu Beach. Get some of those cute surfer boys,' chuckled Aunt Lani. ‘Say, what about Lester? He's a good looking man even now. Oh, he was a looker when he first came here. All the girls were mad for him.'

‘Have you known him a long time?'

‘I met him in the thirties when I was very young. He was a legend even then. He was part of the group that hung around the Outrigger Canoe Club. He used to spend a lot of time in Kauai. But that's another story.'

‘Is that where he met Eleanor? They must be good friends as she lets him live in her apartment,' said Catherine.

Aunt Lani didn't answer and busied herself in the kitchen.

‘Did Lester work for Eleanor and her husband at the Palm Grove? What's the connection between them?' persisted Catherine, now curious.

‘I couldn't say,' said Aunt Lani. ‘Not our business. Lester is a good man. Here, you come back soon.' She handed Catherine the food to take home.

Catherine asked Kiann'e about Lester and Eleanor and Ed Lang the next morning.

‘Who knows what the story is? There is something though, because Eleanor acted vague when I asked her. Vague as in evasive,' said Kiann'e. ‘Anyway, if you want to photograph Lester, chat to him about his life. There's also probably a lot in the newspaper files, he was such a champion as well as designing boards and being active in getting surfing on the map.'

Lester was rather pleased at the idea of Catherine's taking his portrait, as much for the outing as the photography. She told him she'd pick him up on Thursday afternoon. In the meantime she went to see the librarian in the archive of the
Honolulu Advertiser
who pulled out clippings on Lester dating back over fifty years. Catherine sat in the little cutting library in the
Advertiser
's offices crowded with filing cabinets, shelves filled with books of yellowing clippings and folders crammed with old press photographs.

There must have been some system to the chaos because the kindly librarian hauled out the file with Lester's name on it. ‘We're starting to put things on microfiche now, before the old papers disintegrate,' she said. ‘There could be old newsreel footage, early TV stuff, but you'd have to go to KGMB or somewhere to ask about that,' she suggested.

‘This is great. Amazing,' said Catherine, poring over the fat folder of pictures of a handsome young Lester posing with Duke Kahanamoku and other surfers Catherine didn't recognise and in action himself. Slowly she began to see what Lester's public life had been like. Everything was centred on surfing. Shots of him on impossibly huge waves, a mere speck out the back of the waves, flipping over a curling wave, riding a long board at Waikiki with a girl on his shoulders, doing a headstand on a board with Diamond Head in the background when there had been few hotels along the beachfront. Other shots showed Lester wearing leis, with trophies and displaying an array of surfboards.

But what was his private life? Pretty girls posed with him but none of them appeared a second time in any picture. As Catherine flipped through the yellowing clippings she started to see what a contribution Lester had made to the Islands. He was indeed a true kama'aina. But he was an enigma. How could she sum this up in a photograph?

She talked it over with Kiann'e who reminded her that someone was always surfing somewhere on the island.

‘You could take some pictures of the Australian boys who are always hanging around.'

‘Oh, that's too hard. I know nothing about it,' said Catherine.

‘And you're not too interested either, I can tell,' said Kiann'e.

‘Nope. It's one aspect of Hawaii that doesn't turn me on.'

Kiann'e grinned. ‘Wait till you see those surfer boys in action!'

But in spite of this suggestion, Catherine thought Kiann'e's idea to take a portrait of Lester was the best.

‘You were quite the surfer hero in your time, Lester. I hadn't realised how famous you were. I saw some old newspaper clippings. You looked like a movie star.'

He merely smiled. ‘Well, I did appear in a few films. Wasn't for me.' He dropped the subject.

Catherine saw an opportunity to prise open the shell around his past. ‘Wow, Lester, that's pretty interesting. Tell me more.'

‘Different times, back then, Catherine. Nobody's interested now.'

‘Why didn't you ever marry, Lester?' asked Catherine.

He shrugged. ‘I didn't have much to offer anyone. I'm not the type to settle in the suburbs, pay off a home.'

‘You couldn't find a nice island girl? You are so happy here, the lifestyle suits you. And, my goodness, you were so handsome and then you became so famous the girls must have flocked to you.'

‘Maybe that was part of the reason. Never any shortage of girls and I liked them all.'

‘Lester, what a ladies' man you are!' laughed Catherine, thinking how little had changed. Kiann'e, even Beatrice herself, and who knows what other lady friends were still dancing attendance on him.

He took a scrapbook from a shelf and handed it to her. ‘How about I put the coffee on?' he suggested.

Catherine began looking through the photos and newspaper cuttings, trying to equate the arthritic older man before her with the bronzed, stunning-looking figure in the pictures. ‘Coffee, yes please, Lester. You look like a Greek god in these! And so fit.'

Lester looked over her shoulder. ‘I feel a bit stiff today, but I lasted longer than most. I won a few championships in my late forties, though no-one knew my age.'

‘You devil, Lester. I see what you mean. You look amazing.'

Catherine was astonished not just by how handsome and contemporary Lester looked, but by the quality of the old black and white photos. He was wearing fitted swim shorts in a lot of the pictures and if it hadn't been for the old-style white buckled belt around them, he could have been a surfer of today. There were a lot of photos of him posing on the beach standing against massive solid long boards, in action on the waves with Diamond Head in the background. But it was a series of studies using light and shade that caught her attention. Lester was posed on tiptoe, angled like a dancer in a brief knotted lava lava, like a nappy, she thought. Others were of him naked, back to the camera, lying on the sand. He had a lean, lightly muscled, well-proportioned body, an allover tan, the sunlight caught the light hairs on his arm, his sun-streaked blond hair fell over his face. One photo showed him on his side, back modestly to the camera, stretched naked on the sand, head resting on one bent arm, his other hand casually holding a large trophy – a cup for surfing or swimming, she assumed. The black and white pictures were of prize-winning quality, and looked as if they could have been taken yesterday.

‘Who took these photos? They're excellent,' said Catherine.

‘I took some myself, or I set them up and had a lady friend click the shutter.' He smiled.

‘Lester, could I borrow this scrapbook if I promise to guard it with my life?'

‘Why are you so interested in an old man?' he asked gently.

Catherine didn't have an immediate answer. ‘I like you, Lester,' she said finally. ‘And I think you'll be a great subject for the portrait competition.'

‘What did you have in mind? I know what I'd do,' said Lester.

‘At the beach? Outside the Outrigger Canoe Club where some of these were taken?' said Catherine.

‘Got it in one, girl. Let's go.'

‘Okay, you're ready?'

Lester wanted to change his clothes so Catherine washed the coffee cups and put them away. She couldn't resist a smile when Lester emerged from the bedroom wearing white shorts held up by a leather belt with a fancy silver and turquoise buckle and topped with a faded blue and white aloha shirt. He had sunglasses in his pocket and carried a perky cap. He slipped his feet into his sandals and took his stick.

‘I'm right to go.'

The sun was still high in the early afternoon and Waikiki was crowded. At Lester's insistence she parked in the Outrigger Canoe Club.

‘Mike, the manager, will let me in here. We can cut through to the beach,' said Lester as he headed towards the members only reception.

‘Are you a member?' asked Catherine.

‘Used to be fifty years ago. They know me.'

Catherine grabbed her camera bag and followed him. Lester gave the girl at the desk a big smile and said airily, ‘Having my picture taken out the front, it won't take long.'

‘Very well, Lester, you know the rules.' She smiled at Catherine.

Lester had a few suggestions for photos: posing with an outrigger canoe pulled up on the beach; leaning against a gnarled banyan tree at the edge of the sand; and of course with a surfboard. He was a natural in front of the camera and Catherine took several pictures that she thought were good, but weren't
the
one. She looked towards the shore where several surfers were walking from the water carrying their boards. Lester studied them, squinting into the sun.

‘Times change,' said Catherine. ‘Those boards look different from the big heavy ones you used.'

‘Yes, but some things never change,' said Lester softly. ‘Soul surfers. That's what they call themselves now. These boys are in it for love and fulfilment, not winning and ego.' As the surfers came up the beach one of them spotted Lester leaning on his cane, and murmured to the others. They all headed towards the legend with the white hair and faded shirt as he wistfully watched them.

Catherine moved to one side and started shooting. The first surfer to greet Lester was Damien, the Australian she'd met at the rally. He looked awestruck. The other two boys, one with bleached-blond hair, the other Hawaiian, she didn't know. They all wanted to shake Lester's hand and ask questions. Clearly Lester had not been forgotten. One put his board down and came around to Catherine.