It was forsure the windiest day of the summer.

There was no date circled on a calendar and no plan built around a forecast. Paige Alms had completed the route the summer before—one of only four people we knew of who had traveled the line by foil. When she called to say the window had opened again, there was not much to discuss.

Wind like that does not wait.

The plan was to launch from a boat offshore of West Maui, leave the familiar Pailolo line and run down the gut toward YOGN-42, the old Navy barge stranded on Lānaʻi’s reef. From there, we would continue another 12 miles along one of the most remote stretches of coastline in Hawaiʻi.

It looked simple enough on a map.

Built in the backyard

The mission began where much of FAED began: in the backyard, with an idea, a weather window and gear spread across the ground.

Boards. Parawings. Hydration. Communication and safety equipment. We configured our FAED rigs around the route—enough capacity to carry what mattered offshore, held close to the body and out of the way once the riding started.

The crew was Paige Alms, Cash Berzolla, Dylan Primrose and Henry McNamara. Erik Aeder came to document the mission. Guido Ferrer captained the support boat.

We packed everything at Mala, including a separate wing for Cash’s session at the wreck, then ran up the West Maui coast. Guido brought us into position offshore. Midlengths with foils went over the side and, one by one, we entered the water.

Then we turned down the gut.

Big water

The wind kept building, and the channel had room to show its full scale. Long blue ridges moved faster than they appeared to from the boat. Riders vanished behind them. Falls lasted longer. Every pause allowed the moving field to rearrange itself.

It was some of the biggest, most treacherous water I had ever ridden.

There were fast lines everywhere, but chasing one too far could pull the group apart. We held a shared line through the channel, reading one another’s pace while letting the bumps carry us deeper into the crossing.

This was the environment FAED was built for. Hydration and essential equipment stayed secure and accessible without interrupting the ride. In water this large, gear cannot become another problem to solve. It has to disappear into the movement.

Ahead, the wreck slowly separated from Lānaʻi’s pale coast.

At the wreck

YOGN-42 is a 375-foot concrete Navy fuel barge built during World War II. It survived the wartime sinking of the tug towing it across the Pacific and was later grounded on Lānaʻi’s reef, where it has stood broadside to the trades for more than 70 years.

From a distance, it looks like a rust-colored mark. Up close, it changes the ocean around it.

Swell rises over the shallow reef, hits the hull and rebounds. Incoming and reflected lines collide beneath the wreck, turning clean energy into steep, unpredictable ramps. This was our planned stop—and the point where the logistics became hectic.

Guido held the boat close enough to transfer Cash’s wing and position Erik, but far enough from the reef, wreck and riders to keep an exit open. There was no calm place to wait.

Cash took the wing from the boat, powered toward the bow and started throwing double fronts beneath the concrete hull. No leash. Erik shooting from the pitching deck. Spray exploding across the wreck.

For a few minutes, the chaos aligned. Guido worked the boat. Erik found his frames. Cash found ramps in the reflected swell. The rest of us held position while the reef moved beneath us, our offshore essentials still secured in our FAED rigs.

Then we regrouped and turned downwind.

YOGN-42 had been the destination. Now it was the halfway point.

Twelve miles of right-handers

What waited beyond the wreck was the revelation of the day.

The dry Lānaʻi coast stretched ahead like the edge of a desert continent. Beneath it, the ocean organized itself into mile after mile of clean right-hand bumps. The trades poured down the coastline, the parawings pulled us into motion and the foils released from one runner to the next.

It felt like Namibia or Skeleton Bay translated into open-ocean swell. One right opened into another, then another, all running beneath a wind-scoured coast with no roads, buildings or finish line to break the view.

These were world-class downwind conditions in one of the most isolated settings any of us had ridden. After the size and disorder of the channel, the coastline offered pure flow: open faces, long connections and enough wind to keep the entire field moving. For nearly 12 miles, we chased the same direction together.

This was where the FAED system made the most sense—not standing still for a product shot, but moving at speed through difficult water. The rigs carried what we needed, stayed stable through falls and let us focus on the line rather than the gear.

There was consequence beneath the beauty. The water felt sharky, tugboats crossed the larger channel and every fall meant remounting in open water, far from an easy landing. But the line kept opening, and we kept following it together.

At the end of the run, Guido brought the boat alongside for the final pickup—the close to one long, committed line from West Maui down the Lānaʻi coast.

The proving ground

The day began with Paige’s call and FAED gear scattered across a backyard. It ended farther down the Lānaʻi coast, with four riders climbing back aboard after one of the wildest runs any of us had experienced.

Paige brought the knowledge. Guido held the safety operation together. Erik documented a place and pace that resisted being framed. Cash turned the warped water beside a World War II wreck into a launch ramp. Dylan, Paige, Cash and I stayed together when the scale of the ocean made separation easy.

For FAED, this was the ultimate proving ground: a boat launch, a serious channel crossing, a complicated stop at the wreck, 12 miles mind bending right handers, and an open-water recovery. The gear carried what we needed without taking us out of the mission.

That is the standard—not simply looking ready on land, but being trusted when the coastline disappears and the real adventure begins.

This was Mission YOGN-42.

Watch the complete Mission YOGN-42 film:

(Coming Soon)

Learn more about YOGN-42 through NOAA’s Lānaʻi maritime expedition

https://sanctuaries.noaa.gov/maritime/expeditions/lanai/location.html