Localism and attitude, ‘it’s all good’: a surf tourist’s story analysis of simultaneous contradictory prosocial and anti-social interactions at an off-limits place

ABSTRACT

Localism is framed as intimidatory anti-social behaviour designed to persuade tourists that a surf spot is off-limits. Hitherto, cultural studies have combined a top-down intersectionality lens with a priori Western-centric negativity to explain the consequences for those who ignore the warnings. Thus, there is a paucity of studies explaining why surfers experience nothing of consequence in these off-limits places. A critically balanced and complex analysis of localism is emerging in sport tourism literature. However, generalizations that entire places are off-limits for surf tourists prevail. Accordingly, in this innovative accidental ethnography of localism at a categorically off-limits surf spot on O‘ahu’s South Shore, I adopt a talk-story methodology to provide a micro-level grounded analysis of empirical observations explaining the prevalence and consequences of the constant contradictory choice between anti-social and prosocial behaviours that locals and tourists make in every interaction. Findings draw attention to the anti-social and prosocial behaviours performed simultaneously by locals and tourists, and the experiences of tourists with similar intersectionality identities, but distinctly different attitudes. The article concludes by asking the reader to consider the complexity of contradictory choices, before making a moral judgement on performances of localism and deciding whether and why places are off-limits.

KEYWORDS:

• Surf tourism
• off-limits places
• prosocial behaviour
• entitled tourists attitudes
• complex contradictions
• indigenous paradigm

Introduction

Localism is the antithesis of a pleasurable experience for the surf tourist. It is an outcome, a way of describing a form of specific tyranny that adds to and complicates fitting in with the cultural and sporting norms in a given place. To add complexity, whilst cultural and sporting norms are generalizable at a given place, localism is arbitrarily determined; however, the methods of avoiding it are generally similar. As a form of territoriality and aggression (Olive, 2008; Scheibel, 1995), localism aims to defend the dominant local groups’ use of waves as a limited resource by promoting a sense of topophobia, where tourists fear certain places; thus, they avoid them (Tuan, 1979). Therefore, whilst some surf spots, surfing regions, and entire countries are safe and utopian, others are defined as unwelcoming off-limits places for tourists (Beaumont & Brown, 2016; Booth, 2001; Evers, 2007; Nazer, 2004; Olive, 2008; Towner & Lemarié, 2020).

As the birthplace of surfing (Warshaw, 2010), localism (Walker, 2011), and surf tourism (Martin & Assenov, 2012), Hawai‘i is home to many off-limits surf spots. The site of this accidental ethnography (Levitan, Carr-Chellman, & Carr-Chellman, 2017), Kaiser’s, is one such allegedly off-limits place due to the prevalence of localism. Located on the South Shore of O‘ahu, online surf guides (Surfboardshack, 2021) warn that Kaiser’s is a powerful wave that breaks over a shallow reef covered in sea urchins, it is always crowded with a distinct hierarchy of ‘aggressive’ and ‘intense’ local expert surfers who expect others to wait their turn’; yet, even for those that wait their turn, ‘if you're of a pasty white complexion … be warned that the locals’ will drop-in [steal] on all of your waves’. Thus, at Kaiser’s, the people are as fear-provoking as the place. Yet, these descriptions of the prevalence of localism and race-related intersectionality are reductive and fragmentary generalizations that provide little insight into surfers’ social interactions, they leave the complex and contradictory whole underexamined (Cook, 2022; Prins & Wattchow, 2022: Usher & Kerstetter, 2015). For instance, Hawaiian surfers¹ have a reputation for their territoriality, aggressive temperament, and no-compromise attitude (Walker, 2011; Warshaw, 2003). However, this form of cultural identity is contradicted by the embodiment of Aloha (mutual sharing of regard and love), which is understood as the authentic spirit guiding Hawaiian surfers’ behaviour (Hall, 2004; Poirier, 2003).

Whilst an emerging number of studies adopt a balanced approach by explaining the benefits of localism for local surf communities, there is a tendency to start and conclude with an a priori assertion of negative outcomes (Cook, 2022; Martin & Assenov, 2020). As Scott (2018) established in the Sociology of Nothing, studies of sports cultures tend to explore fragments of negative interactions rather than discussing the conscious actions that result in unmarked or positive lived experiences. Consequently, the mundane or unmarked interactions that represent the majority of people’s daily lives are disregarded in favour of focusing on incidents of conflict and resistance (Cook, 2022; Scott, 2018). Indeed, lisahunter (2018) and others (Olive, Roy, and Wheaton) acknowledge that focusing on negative a priori assertions with little reference to context has distorted representations of surfer’s lived experiences. Consequently, surf scholarship has stagnated into a spiral of negative theoretical introspection resulting in a paucity of articles examining the prevalence of surfing as a fun-filled fusion of people and place (Anderson, 2023; Cook, 2022; Martin & Assenov, 2020). Accordingly, Anderson (2012, p. 574) argues for a new relational perspective to explore places and people beyond vague generalization to authentically explain ‘what is this place like?’ for all the people who experience it.

In response to Anderson’s (2012, 2023) invitation, I followed Simmel’s advice that analysis can and should always critique broad generalizations by attending to the blend of contradictions inherent in small-group interactions (Sellerberg, 1993). Therefore, I was open to finding localism as a lived experience at Kaiser’s, generalized stories of negative local-tourist interactions suggested this as a credible a priori assumption. However, through a discussion of my experiences, I aim to advance the balanced evidence-based representations of localism developing in surf tourism studies (Towner & Lemarié, 2020; Usher & Kerstetter, 2015) by discussing the ironies and paradoxes of surfers performing simultaneous contradictory prosocial (Aloha) and anti-social (localism) behaviours at an off-limits place. In this innovative accidental ethnography, I draw on my unbiased observations, made possible by adopting a talk-story methodology as a form of ‘conversations in place’ (Anderson, 2004, p. 254) pre, throughout, and post-localism, to mitigate the Western-centric power imbalances inherent in researching culture and place (Steele, 2012).

Founded on an Indigenous paradigm of authentic representation and relational accountability, performances of talk-story require knowledge, analysis and interpretation processes to be shared with others, the researcher and the researched work as equals to co-create a grounded understanding of social interactions that is recognizable as an authentic representation to everyone involved (Cook, 2023; Steele, 2012). As such, talk-story addresses issues of positionality and the colonial concept of owning knowledge through a mutual agreement to ignore socially constructed Western concepts of power that constrain cultural studies with diverse participants in other places (Cook, 2023; Walker, 2011; Wilson, 2001). Consistent with a talk-story methodology, I adopt a story analysis typography to elucidate the holistic complexity of localism and a performative talk-story analysis approach to explain the interrelatedness of being in a place and the co-creation of stories related to being in a place for the people who have experienced it (Cook, 2023; Smith & Sparkes, 2009; Steele, 2012). The purpose of my analysis is to provide what Simmel (1908, 1949) refers to as a holistic representation of places and people beyond one-dimensional caricatures by drawing attention to the contradictions and complexity of human interactions in off-limits places. Holistically explaining that surfing spaces are a mix of static (geographical) and dynamic (waves, people, and emotions) relational sensibilities that influence how the surfers who experience it choose to interact in welcoming or hostile ways narrow the disconnect between how surfing is misrepresented in cultural studies articles and how surfers describe their lived experiences (Anderson, 2012; Cook, 2022; Prins & Wattchow, 2022; Usher & Kerstetter, 2015).

Literature review

It is over 100 years since surf tourism and localism began in Hawai‘i (Walker, 2011; Warshaw, 2010). Yet, systematic reviews reveal that by 2020 there were only nine studies linking surf tourism to experiencing localism (Martin, 2022). These studies emphasize negative outcomes, agreeing that territoriality, crowding, and entitlement are the foremost causes and effects of localism (Martin, 2022). Consistent with these sources of conflict, the most popular framework employed to explore localism in five of the nine surf tourism studies was an intersectionality lens (Martin, 2022; Martin & Assenov, 2012).

However, if the systematic reviews were expanded to include cultural studies that have not explicitly linked conflicts in off-limits places with surf tourism, the prevalence of the intersectionality lens would be irrefutable (see Hough-Snee & Eastman, 2017; Olive, 2008; Stranger, 2011; Uekusa, 2018). As Prescod-Weinstein (2016) suggests, intersectionality research has developed in ‘healthy and deeply unhealthy ways’. For instance, intersectional analysis provides a framework to understand oppression beyond those experienced by white affluent women (Prescod-Weinstein, 2016). It also insists that analysing subjective experiences is an inherent part of intersectional analysis (Prescod-Weinstein, 2016). Conversely, intersectionality is a top-down Western political framework that can enhance the neocolonial agenda by emphasizing social problems that are not found in Native narratives (Prescod-Weinstein, 2016). Therefore, as Ruttenberg (2023) eloquently explains, Western cultural studies researchers employing an intersectional lens in Indigenous surf cultures continually self-scrutinize their intersectional positionality in response to multiple power dynamics issues. Furthermore, intersectional research begins with an a priori assumption that Native peoples have had imposed or adopted Western lifestyles and that they have similar problems waiting to be solved by cultural studies researchers (Prescod-Weinstein, 2016). Problematically, Katz and Csordas (2003) state that cultural studies scholars are often antagonistic or dismissive of alternative perspectives, preferring dogmatic adherence to their positionality, Western a priori assertions, subjective political standpoint, or favoured text regardless of the empirical evidence. Furthermore, Rojek and Turner (2001) warn that cultural studies scholars not only disregard empirical evidence, but also ignore comparative histories, transnational cultural differences, and holistic context; indeed, cultural studies scholars adopt a top-down Western-centric (English-biased) and deeply politicized intersectionality standpoint using selected fragments of data that enable them to generalize their findings for a Western audience.

In a recent surf tourism study, Towner and Lemarié (2020) employed Durkheim’s (1953/2009) theory of the social structures of communities through an intersectionality lens to provide insight into the prevalence of localism experienced by guided tourists at various surf spots in New Zealand. As a contemporary of Simmel, Durkheim’s (1953/2009) social structures theory is similar in many ways to the Simmelian analytical lens I adopt in this article. Both theorists postulate that being a member of society requires cooperation, which makes people conflicted between whether they should do what is best for them or what is best for their community. Durkheim (1953/2009) believed that social interactions should be studied top-down starting from the generalizable macro structures that dominate people’s choices. From here, Durkheim (1953/2009) concluded that people are conflicted, but they are predisposed to seek a position of dominance that benefits themselves. This is consistent with Western concepts of power and contrasts with an Indigenous paradigm and uses of power for social good (Cook, 2023; Walker, 2011). For example, one of Towner and Lemarié’s (2020, p. 100) tourists explained that he was told to ‘fuck off’ by a dominant local, even though he ‘was doing everything right’. However, who decides what is right and who should benefit in this instance; storytellers are biased and always state that the other is wrong (Batson & Powell, 2003). Thus, having utilized Durkheim’s (1953/2009) top-down approach and an intersectionality lens it was inevitable that Towner and Lemarié (2020) would interpret a few anti-social choices and generalize that an entire place is off-limits to all tourists. Nonetheless, similar to Usher and Kerstetter’s (2015) earlier paper, Towner and Lemarié's (2020) situated study strove to provide a balanced analysis beyond the constraints of an intersectionality lens, which significantly enhances our understanding of the prevalence of off-limits places. Nonetheless, the constraints of their structuralist framework, intersectionality lens and top-down generalizations leave scope to further micro-analyse the individual versus community contradictions, motives, and processes and practices of localism in off-limits places. Indeed, Anderson (2012) assumes another layer in the contradictory and complex relations between surfers, which demands that surf tourism scholars employ the bottom-up micro-analysis of empirical observations to confirm or refute the generalized storyteller bias in cultural studies.

Simmel (1949) proposed a grounded approach to examine the contradictions in communities and societal groups. Similar to Durkheim (1953/2009), Simmel (1949) theorized that people constantly make choices between two contradictory actions that either benefit or detriment them as an individual or their communities. However, in contrast to Durkheim’s self-serving individuals, Simmel (1949) held that people choose to do what is best for the communities that they have intentionally chosen to be members of. Furthermore, Simmel (1949) suggested that as communities are formed bottom-up through multiple human interactions, the processes individuals employ to choose between contradictory actions and the outcomes of those choices must be studied starting at a micro level. Accordingly, holistic micro-analysis enables answers to emerge from complex and contradictory social interactions rather than existing as an a priori assertion waiting to be discovered at a place. Likewise, culturally sensitive interpretations help to explain whether an entire place is off-limits and provide an evidence base of why some people are excluded. Thus, the best hope of explaining what is this place like will emerge as the body of balanced surf tourism top-down and bottom-up studies continues to progress beyond the Western-centric a priori assertions privileged in cultural studies.

Theories of place and people, small group interaction, and prosocial choices

The interconnectedness of places and people was central to many of Simmel’s essays, which explored the contradictions in real-world human interactions and theorized how people predominantly make sociation choices that result in positive outcomes. In The Metropolis and Mental Life, Simmel (1903/1950) explained that when the social practices of the outsider differ from those adopted in a local context conflict may occur; thus, when the outsider enters a new place, they no longer have the freedom of expression or sociability they enjoyed previously. However, through collaboration with others, when the outsiders learn the culture of the new place, they will find acceptance and different freedoms (Simmel, 1903/1950). Therefore, real or perceived conflict is a natural and constructive part of the experiential learning process; as Kolb (1984) explains, the tensions between old and new ways of performing challenge the individual but also promote creativity and personal growth.

According to Frisby (1992), Simmel's contradictions in equitable exchange (1907/1971) and positive interactions (1949) are identifiable in social psychology discussions of prosocial behaviour and altruism. Positioned in response to the ubiquitous study of anti-social behaviours and conflicts, social psychologists’ conceptualizations of prosocial behaviour and altruism are similar to Simmel’s ideological representations of positive sociology. Prosocial and altruistic behaviours are defined as improving the situation of another by cooperating, sharing, and empathizing with them (Bierhoff, 2002). Empirically it is difficult to differentiate whether these behaviours are egoistically or altruistically motivated, an individualistic prosocial personality trait or communal evolutionary processes, or driven by social responsibility, empathy, or fairness norms (Bierhoff, 2002). Nonetheless, the aim of prosocial and altruistic behaviours is for human interaction to benefit others positively.

Consequently, interactional research explores the situated interplay of social norms such as values, attitudes, and behaviour which are achieved by observing, modelling, and imitating others through social interaction (Batson & Powell, 2003). Homans (1961) explained that people learn that anti-social and prosocial actions generate recompense. This recompense may be in the form of a punishment/reward or some sense of esteem or deference (Homans, 1961; Simmel, 1907/1971). Nonetheless, prosocial behaviours create a form of equity where the outsider and the locals in the new place learn that cooperation and fairness have positive consequences (Cook, 2022; Batson & Powell, 2003; Simmel, 1903/1950). Whether the negativity inherent in studies of localism prevails or if contradictory positive consequences are achievable can be answered by asking ‘what is this place like?’ for the people who experience it (Anderson, 2012).

Methodology

In this article, I adopt a talk-story methodology (Cook, 2023). I aim to explain how people make sense of their experiences and performances through the stories they tell (Smith & Sparkes, 2009). I seek to contextualize the sense-making process related to the places and timescales of the stories, to present authentic interpretative strategies in action (Holstein & Gubrium, 2004). I was a tourist and an unbiased observer, neither the perpetrator nor the victim of localism; therefore, my narrative adopts a grounded evidence-based approach to explain social interactions in situ (Holstein & Gubrium, 2004; Simmel, 1949). Consequently, my story and performance analysis data are presented in sequential order; thus, it connects events to provide meaningful insight into the participants’ lived experiences (Smith & Sparkes, 2009). Consistent with a talk-story methodology, I present holistic content and employ performance analysis techniques because I became part of the story (Riessman, 2008; Smith & Sparkes, 2009). Throughout the story and performance analysis, I was aware of Holstein and Gubrium’s (2004) warning against using a priori assertions to oversimplify or fragment the data to fit with dominant theoretical positions. Instead, my performance analysis invited diverse participants to share viewpoints to co-create a narrative that explains the complex and contradictory prosocial and anti-social performances of localism I had observed. Consistent with the talk-story methodology adopted to explore how localism is performed in an off-limits place, the following discussion provides a sequential insight into the Indigenous methodological approach in action, the emergence of the data, the social interactions devoted to co-creating the narrative, and the performance analysis process.

Performing talk-story at an off-limits place

I planned to surf Kaiser’s on a break from the primary purposes of my visit to O‘ahu, which were an ethnography of female surfers and to present at the Oceanic Pacific Culture Conference. Both of these scholarly activities sat within a wider ethically approved 20-year ethnography of surf culture. I was aware of Kaiser’s reputation for localism; as mentioned earlier, tourist surf guides provide specific warnings. However, I had surfed Kaiser’s for approximately 50 hours over 20 sessions in four trips to O‘ahu. I did not expect to be subjected to localism or any other form of conflict during my recreational surf at Kaiser’s, but knew it was a possibility. Nonetheless, Towner and Lemarié’s (2020) suggestion that tourists should sit on the beach and watch the local surfers was never an option. Instead, I paddled out to join them.

My decision to surf Kaiser’s was informed by a Simmelian understanding of collaborative social interactions and 29 years as a surfer, with an estimated 8,000 hours in the littoral zone. Throughout this time, I have followed the four unwritten rules of the surfers’ code: (1). The surfer closest to the breaking wave has priority; (2). Surfers should not paddle across the breaking waves spoiling another surfer's ride; (3). Surfers should maintain control of their equipment and think of others’ well-being; (4). Surfers should adopt an attitude appropriate to the place (Nazer, 2004). Throughout my time surfing as a tourist in Britain, Europe, Asia, and Hawai‘i, I have observed discrete interpretations of the code, but acknowledge that it serves to maintain order in diverse groups. Even at off-limits places I had rarely experienced or witnessed the alleged ubiquity of localism. Admittedly, when performing the role of a local and surf tourist at isolated, popular, and off-limits surf spots, I have witnessed surfers performing localism and conflict parodies for comedic effect. From my perspective, the meaningful nothingness of mundane uneventful interactions was habitual (Brekhus, 1998; Cook, 2022; Scott, 2018). However, I am not blind to conflict. At the structural level, there is abundant robust and anecdotal evidence of inequality and conflict. Yet, as Simmel (1908, 1949) postulates, social learning at a subjective level directs people to find solutions to conflict regardless of their differences faster than structures can change.

In this Kaiser’s surf session, the data emerged in the form of an accidental ethnography, a research method that reflects on an unanticipated or unplanned experience (Levitan et al., 2017). Being part of the experience as it emerged, I became a subjective observer and co-producer of a story. Thus, my self-reflexivity became important; as Riessman (2008) explains, who does the narrating, their a priori perceptions and performance analysis have a key role in how people perceive they are being represented, either as the voiceless researched or as the co-producers of data. I had completed ethnographies for Batchelor, Masters, and Doctoral level studies, I was an experienced intermediate surfer and favoured an epistemological and ontological position where the mundane reality is that people experience nothing noteworthy unless evidence suggests otherwise (Brekhus, 1998; Cook, 2022; Scott, 2018). Latterly, due to participant discontent with the a priori assertions guiding previous ethnographies, I have learned how to perform talk-story methodology to enhance my ethnographic practices (Cook, 2023). In this accidental ethnography, the habitual mundane nothingness was interrupted by a performance of localism.

The empirical data presented itself in three forms during my recreational surf on a Thursday afternoon in April between 1 and 4 pm. The first data was my observations of the prosocial behaviours performed by the local surfers towards me as a tourist; put simply, they allowed me to share their surfing space, waves, and stories. This was followed by witnessing a performance of localism as it evolved. As stated previously, I was an unbiased observer, neither the perpetrator nor the victim of localism. However, I was a knowledgeable tourist, having been among the first to study surfing from Bachelor to Doctoral level through various lenses. Then, to provide local context, conversations in place (Anderson, 2004) – more particularly talking whilst bobbing², were conducted in talk-story with four surfers with various levels of involvement and participation at Kaiser’s and In Betweens as the localism progressed. Katz and Csordas (2003) suggest that capturing in-the-moment participant stories gives the locals a voice to co-produce a detailed and empathic understanding of place, self-identity, and cultural activities which can be authentically presented to avoid ideologically biased fragmented interpretations. Indeed, encapsulating the participant observations and conversations in place is important to authenticate behaviour in a prosocial study (Batson & Powell, 2003), because the local surfers could not scapegoat the victims or deny what had happened nor could they embellish it to add to existing stories of localism. Finally, contextualising data were collected in later talk-story with local surfers.

Recording what was said when talking whilst bobbing was not without its challenges. However, consistent with Swain and King’s (2022) informal conversation method, the emphasis is on depicting the essence and meaning of a conversation, where the occasional word is misremembered but the fundamental representation is unchanged. As with all conversational methods, talking whilst bobbing requires the level of trust in the research integrity inherent in talk-story methodology (Cook, 2023). Accordingly, talk-story became an important and enlightening part of the data collection process. As a methodology and data collection method, talk-story facilitated informal conversations where personal stories were shared with a sense of empathy to eliminate perceived power and privilege (Steele, 2012): thus, solving the intersectional positionality issues identified by Ruttenberg (2023). Rather than adopting the roles of the researcher and the researched, talk-story permitted impartial discussions of our experiences of surfing and surf tourism. These talk-story narratives were co-created social constructions and self-expressions that empowered the orator and gave them a shared voice which could be authentically presented to mitigate potential misinterpretations. Nonetheless, the talk stories revealed a contradiction. There was an expectation that I, a male haole³ tourist and cultural researcher, would perceive that I had experienced localism due to its overreporting in Western cultural studies, but little surprise that I had not experienced it in practice. As Simmel (1908) suggests, it is these theoretical versus lived experience contradictions that demonstrate the importance of recognizing the micro-level situatedness of personal experiences and how they differ from a priori assertions.

According to Riessman (2008), the situatedness of personal experiences can become lost at each stage of analysis, during its co-creation, through the narrative write-up, and in the interpretative strategy employed by the reader. Thus, consistent with a holistic approach, I present the observations, talk-story conversations in place, and later talk stories employing a story analysis typography (Smith & Sparkes, 2009), using pseudonyms to protect anonymity. As Anderson (2012) explains, telling stories provides an insight into a place, helping us to understand how they are constituted as an assemblage and convergence of complex relational human interactions. Moreover, Prins and Wattchow (2022) elucidate that, narrative stories present an experience in a way that is meaningful to the storytellers. Thus, they provide the reader with an authentic insight into the participants’ grounded experiences, which are often lost in the interpretive processes of drafting and re-drafting the academic text (Prins & Wattchow, 2022; Riessman, 2008; Rojek & Turner, 2001). Accordingly, the following narrative story reveals the cultural contradiction of localism in a surf culture that is aggressively territorial and simultaneously embodies the Aloha Spirit.

Surfing a localized place – Kaiser’s

Earlier studies (Evers, 2007; Towner & Lemarié, 2020) warn that local surfers frequently tell surf tourists arriving at a new place to fuck off before they have even entered the ocean. However, despite walking past local surfers my arrival and paddle out were unhindered. As I paddled closer to the reef, I could see 10–12 surfers at Kaiser’s and a further 15–20 at In Betweens – so-called because it is a surf spot in between Kaiser’s and Rockpiles. In Betweens is the place where intermediate surfers go to continue their social learning before establishing their position in the expert hierarchy at Kaiser’s. At each place, the surfers sit in close proximity to each other near the take-off zone⁴, all of them crammed into the same 40–100 ft space of linear beach Florida Department of Environmental Protection (2005) recommends per surfer. Thus, wave resources are limited, and the carrying capacity of the space required for a pleasurable experience is exceeded (Doorne, 2000).

Being a surf tourist

As I reached the reef, I observed that I was the only haole surfing Kaiser’s that afternoon. I was not just white I was Northern European at the end of winter pasty white; thus, I embodied the racial and terrestrial ethnicity differences that surf guides warned would be problematic. Following my paddle out, I chose to sit 20 feet further out than the main group to wait my turn. Consistent with Batson and Powell’s (2003) discussion of social learning through modelling, and imitating others, previous studies (Anderson, 2012; Nazer, 2004; Towner & Lemarié, 2020; Usher & Kerstetter, 2015) elucidate, that by observing the natural order of a surf spot the tourist can read the sea, know where to catch waves, show deference and slowly integrate into the local group. I adopted this technique to read other surfers and find my place in the pecking order.

On my arrival, one of the local surfers (pseudonym Kapono) hurriedly paddled toward me. Kapono sat up on his board, and asked, ‘is it breaking this far out? It was big yesterday⁵’. I responded, ‘I don’t know, I am just in and waiting my turn’. ‘Oh, you’re a local guy?’ he said. I explained that I was a visitor to O‘ahu. Kapono teased ‘aloha, welcome to the Islands’ and gestured a Hula dance, putting me at ease by demonstrating a prosocial performance of his Hawaiian cultural identity. I was aware that we were two racially and terrestrially ethnically diverse surfers; but instinctively recognized that in the littoral zone, more things united us than divided us. This shared littoral ethnicity enabled us to create a rapport. Kapono could have performed the role of an aggressive local; however, as Cook (2022) explains, the majority of surfers choose constructive prosocial interactions with each other as part of enjoying the surfing experience. Kapono was in his late forties; he was handsome and looked toned like a surfer. Kapono told me that he surfs Kaiser’s every afternoon after work, making a relational connection between his surfing identity and Kaiser’s as a fusion of people and place. I told him that I was envious. For the next ten minutes or so we adopted prosocial behaviour, we sat and performed talk-story about Hawaiian surfers, board design, cold-water surfing, places we have surfed, surfing styles, and how unusually large the late spring South Shore surf had been this week. We watched as the main group caught waves inside where we were sitting. As we talked, a large set wave started to break as it approached our part of the reef. Kapono looked at me and said, ‘your wave, you were here first’. I paddled into a perfect righthanded overhead wave that bowled along Kaiser’s reef. Kapono caught the smaller following wave. We both paddled back to our position away from the group. Kapono smiled and said, ‘wave of the day’, meaning that I had ridden what was likely to be the largest wave of that session, I smiled, and we resumed our talk-story to share knowledge about our local surf spots.

The secure leader

During our talk-story, I observed a muscular Polynesian surfer on a red longboard who was hollering as he paddled out. The group responded with yells and the shaka sign. The shaka is made by extending the thumb and little finger, curling the three middle fingers and rotating the hand back and forth. The Shaka is a Hawaiian symbol imbued with positive connotations which have been appropriated into wider surf and tourist culture. As Red joined the group he was hugged by a number of them as they engaged in excited chatter. It was obvious that Red was what Irwin (1973) describes as a secure leader; a surfer who is rewarded with esteem and deference at a place due to their ability. Red looked in our direction and made a shaka, Kapono responded in kind, and I smiled. My presence had not gone unnoticed.

Kapono and I caught a few more waves. On one paddle back out I overheard Kapono telling Red that I was ‘waiting his turn’. Kapono and I talked a bit more, and then we eventually drifted into the group closer to where the majority of the waves were breaking. There, we talk-story with the other surfers and waited our turn. The main group adopted the universally accepted, but not always observed, system to catch a wave, which avoids a free-for-all and minimizes the number of waves going unridden. The surfer with priority intensely paddles for the wave and another, further along, will also paddle with less intensity, ready to catch the wave if the first surfer misses it. However, this does not mean that the sharing is equitable, the best surfers always seem to catch the more desirable righthander at Kaiser’s. On a paddle back from a lefthand ride, I was positioned with priority to surf the righthander just as a larger set wave began to break. As I got to my feet and completed my first turn, I noticed that Red had continued to paddle into the wave. He sprang to his feet about twenty feet ahead of me; thus, Red had broken rule one of the surfer’s code by dropping in on the surfer with priority. I internally questioned whether this was an aggressive act, the local dropping in on the haole tourist’s wave to prove a point. Instead, Red made a prosocial choice consistent with the cultural norms of surfing Kaiser’s, he looked back, saw me riding the wave and immediately rode back over it and gave me the shaka sign. As I paddled back out, Red called to me, gave me a shaka, and nodded his head in an apology for dropping in. I smiled and waved back; I did not give the shaka for fear of cultural appropriation. Red’s actions were consistent with my experiences of Aloha in Hawaiian surf culture. Respect has to be reciprocal; secure leaders cannot demand it without showing it. Nonetheless, I decided not to outstay my welcome, I had surfed more waves than I had expected to; therefore, I caught a few more at Kaiser’s, said aloha to Kapono and paddled over to surf In Betweens.

Aloha means hello and goodbye!

In Betweens was more crowded with a group of intermediate surfers competing with each other. Here the wave was just under head-high and offered shorter rides – a right that is shallow and fast and a left that is longer but does not maintain its shape. In Betweens operates a similar wave-catching system to Kaiser’s, but the surfers are more vocal and intensely competitive. Nonetheless, everyone gets a turn. On previous visits, prosocial behaviour meant that I was beckoned to catch waves because I was not catching as many as the locals. This time, I competed for and caught a few lefts and rights, but mainly I enjoyed sharing the place and watching the local surfers. After a short while, what I presumed to be a family unit of a mother and father in their forties and a twenty-something son all riding identical brightly coloured longboards and talking loudly joined us at In Betweens. Similar to me, the family were haole tourists on hired surfboards. They were immediately conspicuous; multiple tourists arriving together suggests an attitudinal misjudgement and lack of deference. In addition, they had broken the second rule of the surfer’s code by paddling across the front of Kaiser’s and In Betweens to reach the point where the wave breaks. Nonetheless, the surfers at In Betweens took little notice. There was no welcome and no hostility.

Initially, the family competed for waves. They demonstrated sufficient expertise to suggest that they were aware of the (universally understood) surfer’s code. However, they then began to perform anti-social behaviour by positioning themselves to ensure that one or two of them had priority on every wave. Cognisant that the intermediate Hawaiian surfers needed to respect the surfer’s code to progress in the hierarchy, the family would sit across the breaking wave blocking the locals from paddling, only moving to allow a family member to catch a wave. I observed this behaviour for fifteen minutes. The intermediate surfers were becoming frustrated but continued to compete to catch a wave rather than becoming aggressive. In contrast to Towner and Lemarié’s (2020) suggestion that tourists typically tolerate mild localism, it appears that locals will tolerate mild tourist entitlement until it is obvious that they have no intention of learning or adhering to the sporting cultural norms of the new place.

Red and five other Kaiser’s surfers joined us at In Betweens. I am unsure if they were summoned or had observed the anti-social behaviour. No words were exchanged between any of the actors, and there were no threats or cross-conversations. Red and the others simply began to mirror the family’s attitudes and behaviour, using their expertise to catch every wave. Instead of taking turns and adhering to the surfer’s code, every surfer was paddling for every wave. This was experiential learning in practice, modelling, and imitating the tourists’ social interactions provided the recompense required to ensure that people learn from their anti-social actions (Homans, 1961). As stated previously, the family were competent surfers who would know that their behaviour transgressed surfing norms. Consequently, their experience of localism contrasts with the supportive advice I have witnessed locals giving to inexperienced tourists unfamiliar with surfing or surf culture.

Kapono had paddled part way to In Betweens, where we both sat and observed. After approximately ten minutes, the family paddled away from In Betweens towards Rockpiles. Again, there were no conversations or felicitations among the surfers as they returned to Kaiser’s. I had witnessed localism in action, the Hawaiian aggression that every online forum had promised. As Red paddled past I said, ‘what happened?’, he responded, ‘it’s all good’, gave me the shaka and nodded in the direction of Kaiser’s to suggest that I was welcome to rejoin the expert surfer group. Instead, I paddled closer to In Betweens and repeated my question to one of the younger intermediate surfers. He replied, ‘usual tourist shit’. Another In Betweens surfer joined us and asked him ‘do those guys usually defend you?’. He agreed but stated that the surf break usually polices itself; ‘people learn how to get in line, or they go [away]’.

I paddled back to Kaiser’s and sat with Kapono to talk-story. ‘What just happened?’, I asked. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Why do you think they did that?’, I prompted. Kapono responded, ‘attitude issues. Some tourists don’t know or want to know how things really are here’. ‘Is it a cultural thing?’, I suggested. Kapono agreed, stating ‘I guess that is what they do on the mainland – fighting with each other all of the time. Some tourists come here and don’t know how to surf’. ‘But they were competent surfers, I think they knew exactly what they were doing?’, I proposed. Kapono asked, ‘is it like that where you are from?’ I replied, ‘at my home spot we look out for each other but are welcoming to tourists. The vibe is like here, friendly, but with shit waves, freezing water, and wetsuits’. Returning to the localism we had witnessed, I asked, ‘do the local [expert] surfers always protect the inexperienced ones?’ Kapono laughed and said, ‘sometimes, but watch what happens if they try to surf over here. There is a pecking order [suggesting that localism is surf spot specific and not just for tourists], they need to earn the right’. With some trepidation, I asked, ‘why was I allowed to surf here?’ He replied, ‘you are a surfer, you look and act like a surfer’. I knew what he meant; my attitude matched those in the local social group. As Anderson (2023) elucidates, surfers have a way of being, they are humble, respectful, and curious. I then asked whether localism was prevalent at Kaiser’s, ‘it has a reputation?’. Kapono responded with a question, ‘it didn’t keep you away. You have surfed here, how many visiting surfers do you regularly see surfing here with no problems?’ My unspoken answer was lots. Kapono and I caught a few more waves before I paddled back to the beach to update my field notes.

Cultural contradictions

In the following days during post-interview talk-story with local surfers, I spoke about my favourite surf spots without mentioning my observation of localism in the accidental ethnography. Guided by previous cultural studies’ a priori assertions that surfing is an intersectionality-intolerant phenomenon where hyper-masculinity is used to marginalize those perceived as the other (Hough-Snee & Eastman, 2017; Olive, 2008; Ruttenberg, 2023), I had privileged the voices of a diverse group of female surfers in my planned ethnography. These conversations with a group with diverse surfing experiences, and those most likely to have experienced misogyny, othering, and exclusion according to a priori assertions, emphasized the omnipresence of localism in Hawaiian surfers’ consciousness. However, rather than conflict, localism was discussed in relation to sociation choices associated with the Aloha Spirit and pride in a sense of place.

When I told Grace that I had surfed Kaiser’s the previous day, she said ‘you must be brave, I never surf there’. I asked ‘why?’. ‘I am too old and not good enough; I just want to talk-story with my friends and catch a few waves’ she said. I explained that I thought she was referring to being brave as I am a pasty white tourist. Grace looked puzzled and said, ‘does that matter?’. ‘No’ I replied. Sarah, an expert surfer who relates her surfing identity to being a local at Sandy Beach Park (Sandy’s is an extreme and dangerous surfing location that surf tourists are advised to avoid), asked if I caught many waves at Kaiser’s. I replied, ‘more than the previous times, it was much bigger this time too’. Sarah stated that ‘if a visitor surfs Kaiser’s more than once and catches a few waves they understand surfers’. I asked Sarah if she had surfed Kaiser’s, and if so whether being a local was advantageous and being a woman was disadvantageous. She said that she had surfed it numerous times, but preferred Sandys, before explaining that being a tourist and questions of gender were irrelevant ‘like every interaction it is about attitude and knowing how to fit in. … Did you talk-story with the locals?’ I said ‘yes’. Having confirmed my credentials as a surfer through my cultural performance, Sarah offered to lend me some boards and take me surfing at Sandy’s. ‘I thought you hardcore Sandy’s locals hated tourists’, I suggested. Sarah found that amusing.

Lisa also demonstrated the Aloha Spirit, suggesting that I stay with her the next time I visit the North Shore of O‘ahu. Lisa regularly surfs Kaiser’s during the summer months when there are no waves on the North Shore. She asked, ‘did they look out for you [at Kaiser’s]?’. ‘Yes, it was like surfing at home with friends’, I replied. ‘There is a real sense of community on the South Shore, some [present-day] people have surfed there from before Hawai‘i was a state’, explained Lisa. This led me to ask whether she ever experienced problems as a haole female surfer. Lisa laughed, stating:

Nowadays, most of the [local] negativity is from people being over-competitive or just having a bad day. The [Hawaiian surf] community is diverse and welcoming … Community and localism are often conflated but looking out for each other is what communities do … In my study of South Shore surf spots, I have been told that I must explain that local places and surfers can be intimidating for outsiders. I need to disregard the locals’ perspective. Hearing about your positive experience is helpful.

Similar to Sarah, Lisa asked if I had instigated talk-story at Kaiser’s as a way to integrate into the local group. I confirmed that I had, and she responded ‘talking to the locals and being humble, that is what I do too. With that attitude, I can see how you would fit in’. In contrast, Nicola, a university professor, North Shore resident, and expert surfer adopted the comedic persona that Irwin (1973) revealed as a characteristic of surfers. When I told her that I had surfed Kaiser’s she questioned my experiences of intruding into a localized place; using situational irony she asked, ‘what about the locals, did they share the Aloha? My [professional surfer] sons surf there, it is their job to pound [fight] the haoles’. We both laughed at the racial and surfing stereotype, Nicola then stated, ‘but you will need to go home and tell everyone that you survived surfing with the Hawaiian savages, or they won’t believe you surfed Kaiser’s’. As Lisa and Nicola suggest, the notion of Hawaiian localism has reached mythical status in representations of surf culture, with any other description dismissed as anti-intellectual. Therefore, I nodded and agreed. As our talk-story continued, Nicola expressed her irritation with outsiders who believe they are entitled to ignore or misrepresent local culture or attempt to change it. I asked if ignorance justified localism. Nicola replied:

Localism is a complex subject, whose voice is represented is important, as well as the researcher’s agenda. It is all a matter of perspective. A lot of researchers speak about Hawaiians, but not for them. I hope you know the difference.

I did. I had spent several years exploring how an Indigenous paradigm, concepts of power, sharing of knowledge and relational accountability could enhance my studies of lived experiences (Cook, 2023). Hence, I was familiar with Wilson’s (2001) differentiation between a scholar providing an Indigenous perspective through a Western lens and sharing co-created knowledge for mutual benefit.

Making sense of localism – a conclusion

Anderson’s (2012) question of what is this place like for the people who experience it could be answered through the ongoing discussions of Western power dynamics inherent in intersectional studies. Indeed, analysed through a fragmented Western-centric lens several generalizable themes of anti-social behaviour related to intersectionality emerged; local males intimidated a female tourist surfer, an older tourist surfer was forced to leave a surf spot, and haole tourists were unsettled by Polynesian hostility. This is likely what this place was like for the family who experienced it. But that is not how I experienced this fun-filled fusion of people and place. Nor does this top-down intersectional analysis fit with other interpretations explaining why localism was performed at that time in that place. Furthermore, employing an intersectional lens imposes Western values on practices informed by ancient ways. As Warshaw (2010) explains, Hawaiian surf culture is a ‘class-levelling’ (p.23) societal equaliser, it creates a place where intersectional social forms can be disregarded to make power struggles extraneous and surfing fun. Consequently, presented in isolation top-down narratives of intersectionality over-simplify the relational processes involved in human interaction. As Simmel (1907/1971) argues, performing and understanding even the most basic transaction is relational, it involves complex social exchanges among a network of people.

Accordingly, this accidental ethnography (Levitan et al., 2017), situated in a talk-story methodology (Cook, 2023) provides a unique micro-level insight into pre-, during, and post-performance localism. Interpreted through unbiased Indigenous paradigm positionality, findings reveal that humble attitudes and willingness to learn the cultural and sporting norms of a place lead to meaningful nothingness whereas an entitled attitude is a better predictor of social conflict than descriptive intersectionality. A finding confirmed in subsequent performances of talk-story. Thus, findings add a new relational perspective, as suggested by Anderson (2012), highlighting the contradictory power dynamics at play when actions inform outcomes.

Localism appears to be a response to anti-social behaviours and entitled attitudes where outsiders expect to have the same privileges they enjoy in social groups elsewhere. Intersectional differences may motivate some performances of localism and may be used as a defence by tourists with anti-social attitudes, but at Kaiser’s mutual respect is important. Thus, respectful and humble tourists are welcomed whereas anti-social tourists performing entitled attitudes are reviled. Put simply, attitudes inform outcomes of whether a surfing place is off-limits. Locals employ prosocial behaviour to defend the surfers’ code, and altruism to protect the intermediate surfers. For the local surfers, Kaiser’s is the source of identity and gratification attained through surfing; living Aloha is natural, whereas performing localism is an unwelcome distraction. My observations suggest that labelling Kaiser’s as off-limits to all, and its surfers as ‘aggressive’ is the type of over-simplistic generalisation that has stagnated understanding of the causes and effects of localism.

Despite its holistic approach and story analysis typography, my interpretation of people and place is not without its limitations. For instance, the family were observed but their voices and motives are absent from the story. Also, although all the participants had a range of intersectional diversities, they were local surfers who may tolerate and contextualize erroneous attitudes that outsiders and a priori ideologues are unable to. Likewise, my social learning of adherence to the surfers’ code is similar to how it is interpreted at Kaiser’s; therefore, despite being a tourist from 7,000 miles away my humble attitude is comparable with the locals. Therefore, I did not have to learn the attitudes and values expected at Kaiser’s, in the way I had before surfing in Hong Kong.

Riessman (2008) states that the reader's interpretation of a story analysis is the final stage of a study. Therefore, the reader is required to answer several questions; does this story discuss localism as a prosocial or anti-social form of behaviour, and is Kaiser’s an off-limits place for all surf tourists? Does adopting a talk-story methodology address issues of positionality as suggested by an Indigenous paradigm (Wilson, 2001), and have I satisfied my responsibility for relational accountability to the Hawaiian surfers or Western scholars? Finally, can a micro-level analysis of attitudes be critically analysed in isolation/contrast/combination with intersectionality to generalise the complex and contradictory behaviours tourists perform and experience in an off-limits place?

Future studies could adopt a talk-story methodology (Cook, 2023) to address the challenges of a shared knowledge bottom-up study of social groups to explore wider sporting cultures and to co-create frameworks explaining how tourists learn and are anticipated to learn the expected attitudes and behaviour in a place. For instance, there is an opportunity to further explore which consciously adopted attitudes and behaviours ensure the meaningful nothingness of mundane uneventful interactions is achieved (Brekhus, 1998; Cook, 2022; Scott, 2018). As Scott (2018) explains, nothing is a something, it is a consequence of conscious actions by the actors involved. My humble attitude, willingness to talk-story, and choice of actions averted enduring the localism experienced by tourists with an entitled attitude. Thus, there are questions regarding the range of tourists’ attitudes, how this affects how norms are learned and performed, and whether attitudes influence anti-social or prosocial responses in sporting cultures.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Notes

1 I use the denotations locals and Hawaiian surfers to signify their place of residence rather than their ancestry or cultural heritage.

2 Surfers sit astride their boards and bob in the ocean waiting for their next ride.

3 Hawaiians use the term haole in a descriptive way to differentiate people with different skin tones, rather than as a racial slur. Often local haole and tourist haole are employed to note ethnic differences.

4 This is the place where the wave begins to break and offers the best ride.

5 Bigger waves break further out because they feel the bottom sooner.