In the context not only of sport, but also of life itself, where do we place surfing? Is it a decadent waste of time? Or is it one of the most noble of all human endeavors?

Witness the scene on the flight from Los Angeles to Honolulu. Your correspondent, who at this stage has no firm opinion either way, literally sits between the two camps. To the right, an industrious businessman in a suit and neat haircut is preparing a crucial presentation on his laptop. To the left, a tanned man with sun-bleached locks, faded T-shirt, and bare feet is staring dreamily out at the Pacific.

History is on the side of the surfer. People have been tapping on laptops for roughly a couple of decades, and dressing in business suits for little more than a century. Wave surfing has endured for at least 1,600 years.

We are heading to its birthplace, flying 30,000 feet above the fundamental element. The ocean below us is faintly etched with ripples. When this massive body of water comes up against the abrupt, immovable flanks of the Hawaiian Islands, the ripples often turn to thunderous walls of water.

The quality of the surf fluctuates according to climatic conditions and lunar cycles. For surfers, the challenge is to be on the right beach on the right day, and, once in the water, to pick the one wave among a hundred that will be worth riding.

The ability to balance on a surfboard without instantly falling off is something that many of us could master with trial and error. But the deeper mysteries — the secrets of the weather, of the ocean, of the shoreline, and of the individual waves — require years of accumulated knowledge and, ultimately, gut instinct. It can’t be taught. It is a way of life.

An alternative lifestyle, you might say. A culture. And yet, although the bohemian ideals of surfing would appear at odds with the aims and strictures of modern business, the two worlds are remarkably interwoven. For all I know, the businessman beside me is a manufacturer of surfboards or beachwear.

Surfing is a billion-dollar industry, and has given rise to numerous global brands: Quicksilver, Billabong, Rip Curl. Walk down any city sidewalk, and you’ll see them emblazoned on sweatshirts and backpacks.

Even the basic activity has now been formalized. There is a world governing body, the International Surfing Association (www.isasurf.org), which lays down the rules of the sport and organizes championship events around the world (the World Masters Surfing Championship will be held in Puerto Rico in January 2007.)

Today’s professional surfers follow in the wake of the great Hawaiian, Duke Kahanamoku (aka “The Big Kahuna”), who died in 1968, at age 77. Duke did more than anyone to transform this ancient Hawaiian tradition into a global obsession. His statue stands in Waikiki — controversially positioned with its back to the sea — perhaps the world’s only monument of a man in swimming trunks.

Duke said: “How would you like to stand like a god before the crest of a monster billow, always rushing to the bottom of a hill and never reaching its base, and to come rushing in for a half-mile at express speed, in graceful attitude, until you reach the beach and step easily from the wave?”

At its purest, stripped of logos and world rankings, surfing provides a direct connection between humans and their natural surroundings. On a laptop, we can pursue a purpose in life. Standing on a board on the crest of a wave, it might just be possible to glimpse something of life’s meaning.