Raising A Soul Surfer (16 page)

As it turns out, a kayak with 500 gallons of water can really knock you around. It rolled in the waves, it rolled in the sand, and it rolled on us. Some four-wheel drive trucks with a dozen local guys had pulled up on the beach about a hundred feet from us and were having a good time drinking beer until we started kayak wrestling in the surf. Now they were having a hilarious time . . . laughing at us. I would tend to ignore a beer-drinking crowd in this situation, but not Tom. He strode over there and yelled, “What’s wrong with you guys? Can’t you see we need help?” They looked at each other, they looked at their feet, and then jumped down and got in the surf. Before you knew it, we were back on the beach, a mollified Tom, a rescued kayak, and being offered a beer . . . no worries.

While we were not one of those families with traditions, we tried to build memories together by doing simple things, usually on the beach. Birthday parties were always on the beach with a
mom-made piñata of papier mâché. On Christmas morning, forget about opening presents. A morning surf session came first on the agenda, and then family gifts were opened while enjoying a late breakfast.

Most of all, Tom and I realized that our own faith had to be genuine and alive every day. You can tell kids what to do all day, but more is caught than taught. What we do weighs 10 times more than anything we say.

It was good that I was learning all of these parenting truths, because after eight years of learning the ropes with two rambunctious boys, Bethany was born in February 1990. I finally had a girl!

The name of the L
ORD
is a strong fortress;
the godly run to it and are safe
.
PROVERBS 18:10,
NLT

We had two boys
,
and I had settled into motherhood. I was already locked into my future as a shuttle driver to surf spots and sporting events. I was happy, no doubt about it; but I was determined to have a girl. I used to tell Tom, “We are going to keep having kids until there’s another female in the family!”

Working late nights can hinder your sex life. On a rare night off, Tom and I enjoyed a romantic evening. The next morning at the market, I bumped into a good friend. Out of nowhere, Karin said, “Cheri, you are going to have a baby girl.”

I believed that God had spoken a word of knowledge through Karin as taught in 1 Corinthians 12:8 and illustrated in the story where Mary first visits her cousin Elizabeth, who receives the word of knowledge about the baby that Mary was carrying (see Luke 1:41-42).

In fact, I was so certain that I was having a girl that I never picked out a boy’s name. Immediately believing, and while reading the Bible, I chose the name “Bethany,” because I read it was
the hometown of Mary, Martha and Lazarus, as well as the place where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead; and I loved how “Bethany” sounded. Tom got to pick the middle name, and he chose Meilani—Hawaiian for “Heavenly Flower.”

The boys were already accomplished junior watermen. I could only pray that Bethany would find the same kind of joy in the ocean that we did, and still do. No need to worry . . . she was born with saltwater in her veins and took to the ocean like a fish.

By the time Bethany was born, Noah was an active eight-year-old and Timmy was getting ready to start school. Tom and I were juggling our schedules at the hotel that had gone through yet another expensive renovation. Things were always tight financially, but we lived carefully, which today is called going green.

After two years in the river house behind the Dolphin restaurant in Hanalei, we had to move out. It was a sad day, as we had enjoyed kayaking and watching Noah fish for Tilapia.

I always called upon the Lord in prayer when we moved; where you live can greatly influence your children’s lives because of safety issues and the friends that influence them. So it was important to ask for wisdom from above.

One late afternoon, my two sons and I were on our way to take dinner to one of my good friends from church who had recently given birth. The whole church was providing meals, and it was our turn. At about 5:00
P.M
., as the boys and I were on our way to Claudia’s house, we saw a triple rainbow. The Hawaiians believe that when you see a sign in the heavens, something special is happening!

That night, Tom and I stayed up late. About 11:00
P.M
., my water broke. I packed a bag of items to take to the hospital and
then decided to clean the bathroom because it’s so nice to have a really clean bathroom with a new baby. I asked Tom to call the hospital and let them know we were coming in. By 1:00
A.M
., my labor was getting more intense, so I said we needed to leave
now!
It takes about an hour to get to the hospital from the North Shore. Tom does not mind driving fast, so we made good time on the empty highway. I had to turn up the stereo full blast when the labor pains got too intense. I knew I was dilating, and I was thinking about how fast Timmy had been born . . . a short two hours.

We entered the emergency room at almost 2:00
A.M
., where I was put on a wheeled bed behind a curtain. The doctor took one quick look and went to prep a few things. Of course, as soon as he was gone, Bethany arrived at 2:10
A.M
.—early, fast and beautiful!

On November 11, 1992, Hurricane Iniki slammed into Kauai dead-on. The eye of the storm passed directly over us and the destructive 145-mile-per-hour winds leveled whole neighborhoods.

In the days leading up to the most powerful hurricane to hit the islands in recorded history, everyone was simply going about their business. Tom and I had left the kids with a friend the day before and headed to the other side of the island to catch some truly amazing surf. We enjoyed a glorious day with blue skies and perfect waves, a day we will always remember.

The next morning, we woke up before dawn. I decided it was too rainy and windy and thought that for me it was a better day to stay home with the kids. Tom thought the waves were too good to pass up just because of a little bad weather, so he said goodbye and jumped into the van for the long trek to the other side of the island. By the time he got to the nearest town, he knew something was wrong. Lines of cars snaked out from every
gas station. People were gathered in front of the stores, waiting for them to open.

Tom turned on the radio and pulled over as the news washed over him. He heard that a hurricane watch had become a full hurricane warning; destruction was imminent. Tom found a store that had just opened and managed to pick up some provisions, miraculously before the crowds descended. The sirens went off at first light and I became aware that this was not just a heavy rainstorm. Tom raced back home to help us prepare for the impending disaster.

We both still had strong memories of Hurricane Iwa, which had passed within 25 miles of Kauai, in 1982. That had only been a Category 1 hurricane, but it had devastated the island, flattening the predominately tin-roofed, single-panel walled houses and creating huge storm surges that carried boats and cars across the coastal lowlands.

We took one look at our old-style plantation-era home and decided that we’d better find somewhere else to take shelter. The neighbors across the street had a solid, stone-built house, and they welcomed us to join them. Tom and I gathered up the kids and left the laundry on the line as the winds started to pick up outside.

The first thing I noticed was the smell.

As the increasing wind stripped the leaves from the trees and foliage everywhere was torn up and scattered, there came the pungent scent of newly mown grass. Trees were uprooted and covered the road. Then began the bombardment upon the house from untold debris and shingles from the neighbors’ roofs. By this time the wind was whistling and howling like a freight train and we could barely hear one another speak unless we shouted.

I, perhaps foolishly, wasn’t really that scared. I was more curious to know what was happening to our house across the
street, so I crept up and peeked out the window. Every tree was bent over, straining in the wind. Sheets of rain and wreckage swirled around like crazed bats; but I could still see the laundry I’d left on the line; it was literally standing out straight and totally horizontal.

A few of the others joined me, and we watched the storm in awe. That is, until, with a rending sound, we saw the garage roof belonging to the house we were sheltering in go flying up and over us.

After hours of tense waiting, and watching the houses around us disintegrate, there came a sudden calm. The eye of the hurricane was directly over us and everything was quiet and still. We all walked outside, and for the first time we could see the incredible damage around us. The homes of our neighbors and friends were roofless or in pieces; some homes had simply vanished. As we surveyed the destruction, we were surprised to see that our house had survived, but Noah’s bedroom was missing.

By early evening the storm had passed and the sun set behind the once lush, green mountains. The Garden Island was ravaged—trees denuded, livestock and agriculture devastated, beaches radically altered and covered in churned-up debris. The roads were impassable, and nearly every power line down. Within minutes, every neighbor with a chainsaw began working to clear the roads.

We took off in our van with the video camera rolling to document some of the damage and check on friends. Stopping at the Hanalei Valley Lookout, I saw the exact mountainside I had seen in a vivid dream two months earlier that had lost all its foliage. I believe it was a supernatural dream from God. Other Christians had also had dreams and prophetic words. I remembered the prophecy I heard three months earlier that said, “The eye of the storm would pass over Kauai.”

The water pumps had gone down with the loss of electricity. Not having water was the biggest challenge. You couldn’t flush your toilet! I had filled up our bathtub and a few other buckets of water, so we were able to make our toilet work sparingly.

It was extraordinarily hot after the storm passed, so we headed to the closest waterfall for a shower. Of course, almost everyone else in the neighborhood had the same idea, so there was already a line in front of the beautiful, refreshing waterfall.