But today didn’t look like any other day Clover had ever seen. Under a cloudless sky, a mile up the coast from the scene of the tragedy, an incredible spectacle was already under way. Word had spread fast about Cory’s death, inflamed by the global media coverage and the pathos that he should have been walking the red carpet in LA tonight – Liam was bringing a date along on her ticket; Clover couldn’t think of anything less important than attending the awards right now – and now hundreds of surfers were standing on the beach, boards by their sides, ready for the paddle-out memorial. Clover was with Mia and the boys in a traditional Hawaiian outrigger canoe which Cory had brought back with him following his first ever win at Pipe Masters at Oahu. He had loved that thing.

The five of them, plus Eddie ‘Razorfish’ Kahale – a retired local surfer and long-time buddy of the Allbrights; Clover had interviewed him extensively for the documentary – had paddled out together. Clover had been surprised at just how skilfully and powerfully the young boys paddled, the muscles visible on their skinny brown backs as they did this for their father. To make him proud.

Now, a few hundred metres offshore, they were getting their breath back, allowing the boat to gently drift and watching the gathering crowds watching them. There was press everywhere – TV crews, drones, long-lens cameras on tripods – occasional passing boats hooting their horns in sympathy at the sight. But it was surprisingly quiet on shore, the crowds standing in silent respect.

Gulls wheeled overhead, listing on air currents, spying for fish. Clover could just see the Allbrights’ small, battered house above the rocks at Ross Cove. For safety reasons, the memorial was being held the next bay up from Half Moon; the lifeguards wouldn’t allow such a large gathering near those breaks. Here, at least, there was no reef, no white water.

The calm was broken. Clover’s head jerked up as a bell sounded suddenly, three times, and the mass on the beach moved as one, the multicoloured crowd dispersing into bright fragments as they picked up their boards and raced into the water, leaping belly-first onto their boards and beginning to paddle, long-stemmed flowers held between their teeth.

She couldn’t help it – Clover felt the tears begin to flow down her cheeks again as they all headed straight for the small canoe. There had been so many tears in the days since she had arrived here and it was an overwhelming sight, to have that many people heading towards the family in a show of such love. They drew close in minutes, surrounding them protectively, getting to within metres of the boat.

Two girls paddled right up to the ama – the outrigger section of the canoe that acted as a counterbalance – and began to decorate the booms with lei garlands.