There are some people you absolutely do not drop in on, or even paddle for the same wave as, at Pipeline and Braden is one of those people. This ding-dong, a Brazilian, didn’t do his homework. On an eight-foot beast, the dude stuffed the shit out of Braden, taking off as Braden negotiated a thick barrel. A frenzy erupted at the beachfront Volcom house. The infamous whistle began blowing, indicating a major foul in the lineup. Kala and some other guys bolted from the Volcom house and dragged the guy out of the shorebreak. The man’s eyes were popping out of his head. He begged for mercy. Not today, dude. Kala, who’d been watching some professional wrestling on pay TV, picked the guy up and slammed him to the sand twice. Then he put the hurt on him with a haymaker punch that launched the guy off his feet and back into the sand. Photographers ate it up (although Kala later called every magazine and told them not to run anything). Tourists were horrified. Standing on the beach ready to paddle out, I suddenly had reservations about entering the brutal arena. But, you know what? The rest of the year I didn’t see too many drop-ins at Pipeline. Seems the sacrificial lamb let everybody know the repercussions of a stuffing on one of the boys. Says Kala of the episode: “I just want people to know that I have nothing against Brazilians. I just have a problem with stupid people who endanger my friends.” Are you gonna argue with that? Physically, Kala is not a big guy. He stands a couple of inches under six feet and hits the scales at 75 kgs. Packed onto that frame, however, is a network of cabled sinew and muscle and a rock-like attitude that comes straight from the volcanoes that formed the Hawai’ian Islands. Covered in traditional and non-traditional tattoos alike, he is an imposing figure. But it’s not the tattoos that do it. It’s his jet black eyes. The guy has a glare that weakens the knees and causes butterflies in the stomach.