The Quiksilver in Memory of Eddie Aikau is a vicious pain in the ass if you live on Oahu's North Shore. Crowds build clifftop at the slightest rumor of an Eddie greenlight. Traffic grinds to a halt along Kam Highway, despite contest organizers' best efforts to keep it flowing. Woe betide those with shit to do on the rare occasions it runs. Pre-dawn mobs effectively close roads leaving the North Shore. The only way out of the seven mile miracle an eastward trek towards Kahuku, Laie, and Punalu'u.

Despite the nuisance, the Eddie is widely embraced—life grinding to a halt for a single day is a minor inconvenience compared to more egregious annoyances. Less of a problem than those damn Laniakea turtles. Nothing compared to the Triple Crown.

Not everyone surfs on the North Shore. The majority of people spend their days oblivious to the grown men and women who've built lives around playing in the ocean. But when an Eddie swell hits, the mist fills the air, the energy pulses up from the ground, everyone notices. Everyone cares.

The Eddie is a part of the North Shore. A piece of its heritage, that deep-rooted hellman culture that infests single wall rentals from Mokuleia to Kawela Bay.

Brock Little's barrel, Bruce Irons linking one into the shorepound. Kelly Slater's attention to detail, snatching victory from the jaws of Tony Ray. I screamed along with the crowd in 2009, when Greg Long stroked into a hideous closeout and stared down the lip as it ate him alive. The entire island of Oahu lost its shit when John John took the win. These are moments burnt into our collective memory, a special event that existed both within, and outside of, the competitive format. An invitation validates a lifetime's effort. Winning is just icing on the cake.

This year, for the first time since the inaugural event was held at Sunset Beach in 1984, there will be no Eddie Opening Ceremony. No gathering of the highest order of big wave surfing, perhaps the most widely coveted and well-respected invitation in all of surfing. A split between Quiksilver and the Aikau family has left the event's future uncertain, while Quiksilver's longstanding permit at Waimea will soon be up for grabs.