DEAN SENSUI / DSENSUI@STARBULLETIN.COM
Sara Potter, from the Star-Bulletin team, reaches for the finish flag from the prow of a Dragon boat during a practice run.
Surely the Titanic didn't sound like this when the mighty ocean liner struck the iceberg. That sound must have been like a great silvery bell, ice ringing about in some enormous James Bond cocktail shaker. But the sound our dragon boat made when it plowed into a submerged coral head was more of a wet, meaty wuh-ka-thunk! -- a soaked Sunday paper dropping onto the lanai -- followed by a shuddering, groaning grind as the coral began masticating the wooden hull. I looked fearfully over the side, expecting to see toothpicks floating to the surface. Hawaii Dragon Boat
Disabled teen gets into the competition.
Race blends ancient tradition
with modern aches and pains
By Burl Burlingame
bburlingame@starbulletin.com"Low tide!" called out the steersman cheerfully. "Let's move her to blue water!"
"Maybe the crew is too damn heavy," muttered someone else.
And so we began flailing away once more with paddles, scattering salt water like lawn sprinklers. But the water was too shallow for me to dip my paddle, so I leaned over and pushed away from the coral with it. Fish stared back curiously. The boat eventually wandered off the reef, and practice resumed. We leaned into it with a vengeance. As the Airborne guys say, ooo-rah!
You really do need to practice this. To get the Star-Bulletin/MidWeek team from here to there takes teamwork or, more accurately, choreography, and besides, we don't want to come too far in dead last. But, judging by a boatful of lawyers I saw going in a circle, we have a shot this year. Judging by a boat full of Marines going by like they had outboard motors attached, getting into the winners' circle is still about as possible as monkeys flying out of my rear end.
But you never know!
THE DEAL IS THE Hawaii Dragon Boat Festival, sponsored by AT&T. It's a tradition going back 2,000 years in China, which makes it one of the newer Chinese traditions. It's called Tuen Ng, and takes place on the fifth day of the fifth moon of the Chinese lunar calendar (OK, the weekend closest to it).
The races commemorate a fellow named Chu Yuan, a poet and patriot who threw himself into the Milo River in a fit of pique.
Fishermen raced to recover his body, and slapped on the water with their paddles to scare away the poet-eating fish.
In desperation, they also threw their lunch -- rice dumplings called "chun tse" -- into the water to distract the fish. The dumplings are still a big part of the festival. (Chinese cultural rituals never involve fasting.)
There you go -- aimless splashing is part of the tradition! And I suppose losing your lunch over the side is, too.
Dragon boats themselves are wildly decorated wood canoes with colored dragon heads and tails fore and aft, like a Viking longboat painted by Peter Max. When the Fisherman's Society of Hong Kong revived the boat-racing concept in the 1970s, they standardized the design into a broad-beamed, 37.5-foot craft with shallow draft that holds 16 paddlers, a drummer, a steersman and someone to sit on the dragon's head and snatch flags out of buoys.
DEAN SENSUI / DSENSUI@STARBULLETIN.COM
Writer Burl Burlingame puts some muscle into his stroke in hope of finishing in any place but last.
The game has become a serious sport over there, fielding dozens of teams while those on shore snarf down dumplings and beer.
Dragon boat racing has spouted overseas as well, with teams in Vancouver, Australia, Singapore, Penang, Macau, Thailand, Los Angeles, Seattle and Taiwan. Here in Hawaii as many as 30,000 people have shown up at Ala Moana park to witness the boats race across "The Rise" in the middle of Ala Moana Beach.
The boats are made in Taiwan, in the boat-building seaport of Kaohshiung, and cost the Hilton about $15,000 each. I'm probably the only person on the Star-Bulletin team who actually lived in Kaohshiung as a child, and vaguely remember the gaily colored boats being paddled furiously around the harbor.
Basically, the course is three straight routes of 500 meters, and you paddle like crazy to get to the finish line and snatch up your flag before the other guys do. That's pretty much it. The trick is to do it as quickly as possible, with the least amount of embarrassment. Which means you train a couple of times, and the Hilton makes their boats available for several weekends prior to the race.
Hawaiian outrigger paddlers, used to cross-dipping their paddles, have to relearn their technique.
You're either on port or starboard, and paddling becomes a mechanical process. The fun comes in varying your technique -- dip and pull toward you with the oceanside hand, or dip and use the oceanside hand as the fulcrum in a lever, pushing with the other hand. I found myself doing both just to vary things a bit, throwing in a spin on every other stroke. Good thing I don't do this for a living.
We switch sides occasionally to exercise other muscles, and the team skipper keeps a close eye on placement so that the boat maintains an even keel. Right-handers tend to gravitate toward the starboard side. Without an outrigger, the boat does heel if the crew weight isn't evenly distributed.
The tough thing is doing it in tandem with everyone else, otherwise the paddles get tangled. I've got the bruised fingers to prove it. Focus! Watch the guy in front of you, try desperately to choreograph your dip-and-stroke with his, and hope the guy (or gal) behind you is doing the same. The drummer on the bow is supposed to keep time. Things get tricky when the drummer has no sense of timing or the guy in front of you is a total spaz.
DEAN SENSUI / DSENSUI@STARBULLETIN.COM
Johanna Defmond, 3, stares into the mouth of a Dragon boat on the beach near the Hilton Hawaiian Village.
Not that that would ever happen on the Star-Bulletin/MidWeek team. Nope. Never.
When you're sprinting with the paddles going like clockwork, it seems like the race will never end.
The sun's beating on you; the ocean's blue, blue, blue; and the taste of salt keeps you grinning.
And when the race is over, time inverts and it seems like everything was over too quickly. And then you paddle in toward shore and pull the boat up on the beach.
And you discover why they call it dragon boat races -- 'cause you're draggin' your okole out of the boat when you're done!
7th annual AT&T Hawaii Dragon Boat Festival: Paddles up
Where: Ala Moana Beach Park, across from The Rise
When: Races 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday and 8 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. Sunday, with festival from 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. both days
Admission: Free
Online: chinatownhi.com/dragonboat/index.html
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