Surf Life Nicaragua

Test of Faith

2010-08-14T11:17:00.000-07:00

At some point in any love, religion, or great pursuit your faith is tested. It’s not as easy as it once seemed, promises aren’t kept, passion fades over time revealing annoying habits and bad morning breath. My paradise is still defined as a small house off the grid, barefoot walking distance to a thumping beach break, with four dogs that eagerly wait for the echoing sound of surfboard wax application and leap with excitement to chase each other down the path and through the shorebreak.

Time does bring comfort. My Spanish is better now, my backside tube riding more confident. Last year’s tomato garden yielded tiny sprouts that never reached maturity while this year’s boasts at least ten healthy plants, and while I don’t want to jinx myself, there looks to be a delicious crop of organic tomatoes on the way. I even have a planter box of spinach that has so far resisted the hot weather, constant rain, and swarming bugs.

But this year more than last, the challenges have been many. Starting in mid April the rainy season began will all the energy saved up during last year’s oppressive drought. People, animals, and trees prayed for rain. The heavens answered by opening for weeks on end, flooding roads, soaking through roofs, and washing away recently planted crops. We lost five papaya trees that were just starting to bear fruit, and before we fixed it there were so many leaks in our roof there was no way to position the bed in the small house so that it stayed dry. The rivers rushed sand, wood, and other unidentifiable detritus to the sea, and the brown water and strange green foam made surfing at some spots a health risk. Too much sand built up enormous sandbars damaging the quality of waves at my favorite beachbreak, hopefully just temporarily.

Weather and waves aside, nearby personalities became daily stressors. My boyfriend got sick with a fever that lasted ten days, so I stepped up and took over the 45 min (each way) drive to town to suck our daily limit out of the ATM to pay for cement, blocks, bricks, workers, and palm fronds (that are laid out all over our lot but won’t dry because the rain doesn’t stop). Our heavy delivery truck made the already muddy puddle-filled road nearly impassible, so I’ve gotta pull money out for the repair of that too. The internet access I relied upon at the hotel next door suddenly skyrocketed in price, but only for me.

When the 4runner we call “the beast” started making a loud clicking sound when turning in 4 wheel drive, we took it to our mechanic who replaced the CV joint. Three months ago I had had the whole front suspension re-done which cost me $1,000 in parts. It’d broken down 2 hours away so I had to use a different mechanic from the one I trust. He seemed like a good guy, came highly recommended from several other gringos, and gave me a Nicaraguan nickname. But when our regular mechanic looked at the list of parts that we had paid to have replaced, he told me none were new. He thought the other guy had just had us buy new parts, but only fixed the rubber and cleaned up our old parts, essentially totally screwing us. I called the guy. He said he was honest and it was just that the salt air and mud by the beach make the parts age quickly. Probably true, but not true enough.

On top of the town runs and car dramas there are the dishes, the laundry, and the house cleaning all handled by hand, by me, local style. It’s probably a good thing the waves haven’t been epic because I haven’t had time. We have solar panels so the lights are on past dark, which is easier than this time last year, but the well still needs to be pumped for water for all that washing, and showering, and toilet flushing. At least with all this rain, drawing water takes less energy since it’s closer to the surface. I’m looking for the bright sides.

Then one of the dogs got sick. I didn’t even know dogs could get fevers until I noticed that her head and belly were clearly hotter than those of the others and some research online revealed that anything over 106 in dogs is a sign of something very serious. The vets at the local town gave us penicillin and parasite killing pills. Two days later, after no improvement, we carried her to the car and made the three hour drive to Managua to a real vet who gave her a couple of shots and set us at ease. While my sick boyfriend and sick dog comforted eachother in the backseat, I drove three hours home in the dark, in the rain, struggling to see unmarked turns and people and horses in the road, completely exhausted from all of the above.

My boyfriend went back to California yesterday. Back to work to earn more money to pay for this house we’re building, the road we’ve been assigned to fix, the car parts we didn’t receive, and all of the daily dramas that arise that can only be solved with money. I’m still here for another month at least to finish nursing our dog back to health, oversee the final steps in the construction of the first floor of the house (they pour concrete for the ceiling of the first floor / floor of the second today), and making sure the super muddy road becomes passable by a small car in 2-wheel drive. It’s not easy, but I’ll admit that I sort of love it. I grew up amongst so much drama that I love the challenge. On top of everything else, seven friends arrive today, so I’ll be adding surf tour guide to my list of “things to do” for the next ten days.

Wish me luck, and send me positive energy. I’ll need it!

Construction on the Big House 2 - Laying the Foundation

2010-07-05T12:21:00.000-07:00

Part 2 of the process. Laying the foundation....

Construction Begins on the Big House

2010-06-07T06:09:00.000-07:00

So far we have two small houses on our lot. We built the first one for our caretakers then liked it so much we claimed it for ourselves and built them another one. Both are little studio-sized houses. Now we are finally starting to build The BIG House - a proper 2 story, 3 bedroom house with big outdoor patio/bbq area, balcony, etc. Check it out!

Dogs and Tubes

2010-05-16T06:47:00.001-07:00

Every morning i grab my surfboard and 4 dogs follow me down to the beach to play in the shorebreak while i paddle out and hopefully score a few tubes.

Music: http://www.motherhips.com

Nicaraguan Town Run

2010-05-07T14:32:00.000-07:00

Getting supplies isn't quite as easy in Nicaragua as it is in the states. In California I can hop on my skateboard and choose between several grocery stores. In Nica, stocking up on essential items takes quite a bit more effort.
Click "play" below!

Battling Bats

2010-05-05T08:50:00.001-07:00

Dog in the Trash Pit

2010-04-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

Since filming this video I have learned that Medy is actually Ducha's daughter from her first litter of puppies, which makes me love the silly little thing even more.... Even if I keep having to rescue her from the trash pit!

Feeding and Clothing Kids at the Dump in Nicaragua

2010-04-18T17:19:00.001-07:00

When I started my Surf and Yoga Retreat in Nicaragua, I wanted giving back to be a key component. See below for photos and a short video from our day at the dump.

After hurricane Mitch, the Nicaraguan government relocated newly homeless villagers next to the dump. Without land to farm or any way to sustain themselves they took to scavenging. Anything still with life in it is put to use. Bottles and cans are sold for pennies per pound for recycling. Clean water, like most other resources, is scarce.

Despite their unfortunate situation, the people are beautiful.
A church group sets up a food kitchen at the local school once a week to feed community members who show up with bowls, buckets, anything to hold the little bit of food. The day we visited the meal consisted of chicken noodle soup, with chicken heads and feet as meat. The kids made a line, said a prayer, and were grateful for the food.
We brought clothing to donate and plenty of smiles to share. It was an important reminder for all of us of how good we have it.

For a short video clip of the experience, click play below:

Help us feed these kids.
Suave Dulce Women's Surf and Yoga Retreat

Painting a Community Center with SYRV

2010-03-27T06:32:00.000-07:00

SYRV is a non-profit dedicated to making good happen. After several projects to bring more clean water to villagers in Nicaragua, SYRV filled a shipping container with donations to send to the country. The container was then hauled ashore, and will now be turned into a community center where locals will have access to sewing machines, computers, composting toilets, and clean water.

I showed up for the day to work with a crew of volunteers to paint the container. Check out the video above and the photos below!

The plans for the finished community center.

Lara, the architect, and Monique go over the plans.

A 3D model of the center.

Getting the painting party started!

By the end there was paint everywhere, including in my hair, but at least it was an awesome color!

After a morning of painting, we cruised back for lunch but the surf out front looked like this!
Overhead, super hollow and offshore, no one out!

I was devastated that I hadn't brought a surfboard, but Moniuqe suggested I take out one of the 4'10" INT foam surfboards donated by Quiksilver. It had super flexible fins, no leash, no wax and was definitely not the right board for the conditions, but I paddled out and got a few anyways.

After painting and surfing, it was time for a little yoga session.

To find out how you can get involved, check out SYRV.org.

Arriving to Nicaraguan scenics, puppies, and mojitos

2010-03-23T11:37:00.000-07:00

After four long months of painful waiting, we are home again!
: D

Ducha's Puppies

2010-02-21T09:22:00.001-08:00

I'm in love with a little dog named Ducha.

The first time we ventured to the North, fell in love with the place, and bought our lot, there was a cute little puppy hanging out at the hotel named Ducha. She was so precious and I spent as much time as possible holding and hanging out with her.

On successive trips I was always excited to see her, and she was excited to see us too. By the time our house was built and we moved in for six weeks in May/June of 2009, she started hanging out at our house every day. Technically she belongs to the hotel nearby but we fed her and loved her, so she spent as much time as she was allowed at our place.

We spent those six weeks feeding her, went home for 5 weeks, then returned to Nica for another three. By September Ducha was the best fed and therefore best looking dog around, nice and filled out with a shiny coat and a springy step. We werent' the only ones who thought so. By the time we returned in November, she was pregnant!

We were a little sad she was knocked up because she looked unhealthy. Her fur was falling out in places, she had no energy, and her usual spunk was missing. We cared for her of course, and tried to feed her as much as we could to give her energy to have her pups. We heard that the last time she had puppies, she had almost died. We were worried.

The caretaker at the hotel Chevello promised to look after her. He had been there the last time she gave birth and said he actually had to reach in and pull out one of the puppies that was stuck. I trusted him completely and knew she would be in good hands.

I also really wanted to be there. I had to leave on the 19th to be in Fiji by the 21st for a photo trip, and asked Chevello when he thought she would have them. He said either the 19th or the 20th. I hoped for the 19th, and my hopes paid off. I was all packed up and dressed for the airport when Chevello came and told me that i'd gotten my wish. We rushed over to his house to see the beautiful 5 hour old puppies, all six of them.

Ducha was tired of course, but we brought her food and she wagged her tail at us happily then stood aside to show off her babies. I had never seen puppies so young and was so upset that I had to leave and get on a plane. Chevello promised that he would take good care of her and them. Ryan and I picked out two puppies that we would keep. The little brown one that i'm holding and the little gray one. Chevello would also keep two and the other two would go to the hotel.

All that was back in November. It's February now and while I thought I would have been back to Nica in January, I still haven't been able to make it down there. My friend Joe just returned from a trip and sent these photos of our two pups.

The photos make me happy but also so sad to not be down there playing with these guys.

He also sent a shot of Ducha and one of her puppies that now lives at the hot

Nica Lifestyle

2009-12-19T10:22:00.000-08:00

When I tell people that we're moving to Nicaragua in Spring the most common response is, "permanently?" What is "permanently"? We're going and we'll stay until it doesn't seem like the right place to be anymore. This photo pretty much sums up perfectly why I love this place more than any other. Afternoon, after surfing, after chores, hanging out in the grass barefoot, shirtless, drinking mojitos made with Flor de Cana the Nicaraguan rum and fresh mint from the garden, while Ducha the dog we love hangs out at our feet. This is the Nica lifestyle.

Of course there's plenty of work involved. Nearly every chore (including showering and flushing the toilet) begins with raising water forty feet by hand. It's an excellent workout and it feels good mentally, physically, and spiritually.

It also makes me incredibly water conscious. Spilling water becomes a serious bummer.
Our love of the place started in the surf.
My 5'6" Rusty quad is perfect for the hollow waves out front. It slides into the tube.
We can see the ocean, the tops of waves, but can't properly check the surf from the lot. Ryan scrambled up onto the gate to get a better view. That's the new caretaker's house behind him.

You know you're in Nicaragua when two cases of Tonas equals a computer desk.

Nicaraguans don't do salsa like Mexicans despite having all the ingredients readily available so I make salsa myself, daily.

Farm boy, watering trees.
The chile garden is exploding in spicy color.

Basil grows really well down here.

This is Ryan planting flowers in the caretaker's planter box. Curb appeal!

Our caretaker Osmar shows up most afternoons to lend a hand.

This is what paradise looks like.

Tubes and Tunnels

2009-11-22T13:26:00.001-08:00

The Guardian of the Bodega

2009-11-07T06:20:00.001-08:00

Once again, it feels so good to be home. Back in California it’s easy to forget. I relax and appreciate the easy Internet access, running water, flushing toilet, smoothly paved skateboardable streets, and three grocery stores within walking distance. I start thinking that California is pretty nice, and maybe I don’t want to spend 100% of my time in Nicaragua after all.

And then I get back down here. I wake up before sunrise and light candles, make coffee, and sit on the porch with a view of the ocean with the dog while the sun rises over the volcano. Surfboard waxed and sunscreen applied, I carefully climb through strands of barbed wire to walk down a muddy road to a driftwood decorated beach and paddle out into bathwater warm hollow waves that I don’t have to fight over. This one’s mine and that one too, and I’ll take them both, thank you.

Waxing up in the casita. Don Emilio finally installed the shelves over the countertop!

I haven’t surfed enough lately and paddling feels a little awkward. My arms are weak, my timing just a little off, but I know that within a few days that will change. On my third wave I take off to the left, see the lump down the line that I know is gonna tube, and a smile overwhelms me as I pull in and reconnect. When the tide gets too low, I step to the sand invigorated. Feeling tired but alive. The first few pumps of that well only reinforce the feeling. It’s so good to be home and I don’t ever want to leave.

Ducha on the porch.

The back porch is filled with plants.

I was away for a little over two months and a few things have changed. The papaya tree has doubled in size as well as a few of the others. The garden is spotted with the colors of ripening chiles. The caretaker’s house is finished and Ducha the little dog that has stolen my heart is pregnant. She jumped and whimpered when she saw us and sniffed us and realized we were back. She remembered how to sit. She lays on the porch with a fat belly and swollen nipples looking uncomfortable and unhappy, but wags her tail whenever we come her way. I hope she will have her puppies in the next two weeks so that I’ll be here to see it.

We were sad to see Ducha so skinny despite her puppy-filled belly. Her hip bones and spine are way too noticeable so we are feeding her three times a day and hoping that she has plenty of sustenance to get her through giving birth. We were told the last time she had puppies that she nearly died.

The caretaker's house.

The caretakers have hung their iron from the palapa and it just looks so cool and rustic.

I should probably be more afraid of snakes. Especially here in Central America, where snakes are plentiful and likely to be lurking in corners and under beds, waiting to strike, forcing you to make a quick decision as to whether or not the snake was harmless or if you have less than fifteen minutes to live, it’s probably wise to be wary. But just like sharks, snakes fascinate me. While digging around in la bodega Ryan constantly warns me to “watch out for snakes,” but I’m secretly hoping I’ll find one. The bodega rarely lets me down.

Yesterday afternoon I went looking for the yoga mat that I’m sure I left down here last time but somehow can’t seem to find. I figured I must have rolled it up and slid it behind the surfboards in the back corner. Ryan went in there first and was kneeling down to peer into the dark corner and suddenly jumped up and said, “well there’s a snake back there and it’s either really big or there might be two!”

“Where? I wanna see!”

I traded places with him and looked in between the tails of the stacked row of surfboards and saw the calico patterned scales of what looked to be a pretty solid snake.

“Epic! Look at that thing!’

“Not epic, what do we do with it?”

Ryan grabbed the blue and yellow umbrella that we got as a “free gift” when we bought the propane counter top stove, and used it to try to scare the snake out of the corner. Instead, the snake struck at the umbrella with menacing speed.

Plan B involved pulling out the surfboards one at a time so that the snake was more exposed. Once that was accomplished there was another moment of asking each other “now what?”

I had the shovel ready to strike back in case the snake decided to attack, while Ryan used the rake to scoop the snake out of the bodega and fling it in my direction. It landed in the grass a few feet away and started scurrying off. We didn’t really want to kill it in case it was a harmless snake, but also didn’t necessarily want to lose it in the weeds in case it was poisonous and would return for vengeance. I slapped the ground with the shovel and it slithered up into our biggest almond tree and stretched out along the lowest layer of branches. Once again, “now what?”

We wanted our caretaker Osmar to come by to identify the snake, but instead we saw a few of the local surf groms cruising along the road. We called them in to take a look. They were all pretty impressed by the snake. The youngest two immediately showed fear and said “one bite and you’re dead!” They jumped back and gave the snake in the tree plenty of room. The older two called it a Boa but still gave the snake plenty of respect. They took up the shovel and rake, with one swift swoop knocked it out of the tree, and then to everyone’s horror, Felipe reached down and expertly grabbed it just behind the head, lifting it up for all to see as the snake tried desperately to bite him.

Felipe assured us it isn’t dangerous and offered to let it go on the hill. He took off on his bike with the snake still in his hand. We figured he’d take it at least further down the road and out of sight, but only crossed the road, let it go, and then gave us a big smiling wave. Thanks a lot, Felipe!

When our caretaker Osmar finally did show up I told him about the snake and since it is the second one we’ve found in there, he just shrugged and said it was “la guardiana de la bodega,” the bodega’s guardian.

Friends in town

2009-11-02T13:18:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to keep it a secret. Ryan keeps reminding me to keep it mellow, but it's hard to contain my enthusiasm. I found heaven and i'm the type that wants to share that with friends.
I've tried at least limit my stories to close friends, but the number of people i've told is growing. We have had a couple friends sneak down with us already, but in August that number went up exponentially.

It started with 15 year old Shelby Detmers. I had been coaching Shelby a bit and when I told her dad I wouldn't be able to work with her for a few months since I'd be in Nicaragua, he suggested coming down to meet me. Perfect! She brought her friend Chloe Buckley.

Shelby Detmers, Chloe Buckley, and I

Shelby and Chloe getting to know Ducha on the porch

My favorite redheaded father/son surfing duo from Redondo Beach, Chad and Conor Beatty happened to pick the same week to cruise on down and check out why i'm not nearly as motivated to surf at home as I used to be.

Conor and Chad Beatty

Conor was excited to try out the machete

Kim Mayer is one of my favorite people on the planet. I spent the last three years traveling the world with her and now that we have both stopped competing I miss her all the time. I hadn't seen her in way too long so she suggested coming down on a quick little warm water surf trip.

Kim Mayer lives in Santa Cruz, studies Permaculture, works on an organic farm, drinks coffee out of a glass jar, and is one of my favorite people on the planet.

She brought fellow UCSD graduate turned 2x mom and Santa Cruz surf photographer Nikki Brooks.

Nikki takes her job seriously.

Finally, I got a random email from Jessica Oswald who went to UCSC with Kim, and I had met back in the NSSA days saying that she and boyfriend were planning a trip to Nicaragua and were looking for advice.

Jessica Oswald moved to Wisconsin for med school, picked up wake surfing, and ended up with a boat sponsor and a national championship.

One of things I miss most about hanging out with Kim is the evening jam sessions.

Those crazy coincidences resulted in a very busy friend-filled week of surf in which I got very little done on the land, but was really happy to show my friends my new paradise.

Below is a little introductory story I wrote and some photos.
Enjoy...

I don’t miss surfing in contests. Ok, I’ll admit it, sometimes I do. But it certainly isn’t the memories of jersey-clad nervous paddle-outs into knee to waist high slop that get me feeling wistful. It’s the friends. After more than a decade spent traveling the coast of California and then the whole wide world to meet up with a collection of wild and crazy adventurous girls, it’s hard to readjust to “normal” life.
My hometown is awesome, but it’s cold, and while the waves do get hollow, 99% of the time they close out and send you tumbling into the sand split seconds after takeoff. I’m sure there are cool adventurous females around, but they are married with kids and jobs, or are still in high school. I often find myself hanging out with sixteen year olds, which has its upsides. Sixteen year olds are stoked. Sixteen year olds surf everyday and call to ask me if I’m going to surf even when it’s knee to waist high, sloppy, and impossibly closed-out. They ask me for tips on how to perform better while wearing jerseys. I do my best to give them advice, passing down wisdom and storied experience, and they pay me in copious amounts of contagiously optimistic positive energy.
Still, adjusting to “normal” life is awkward. Without a contest schedule dictating my plane ticket purchases, I get antsy after a month at home. Sure, the routines are nice. I don’t particularly like flying, and I am obsessed with shopping at Whole Foods. But after a few weeks have passed I start to twitch just a bit. I’m addicted to that feeling of new experience, of travel and adventure. So, I rounded up a mixed crew of longtime friends that I met while wearing jerseys that have since hung them up and gone on to new lives, and fired up young competitors only just beginning to figure out the world of organized surfing, for a quick little trip down to a beautiful beach in Central America, a warm water playa hermosa with plenty of hollow waves and good vibes.

Nothing like a sunrise surf in warm water with friends.

The porch was barely big enough to hold all the friends, but Ducha loved all the attention.

Jessica is from Hawaii and had to demonstrate her coconut opening skills.

Jessica's boyfriend took a lonely ride down the beach.

Post-surf shady chill time.

Conor is a stud, even if he is too shy to admit it!

Conor and Chloe both were charging so hard their boards couldn't keep up!

Adios amigas! Come back and visit soon!!!!

Moving To Nicaragua Webisode 1

2009-09-28T12:36:00.000-07:00

Moving to Nicaragua is actually quite an interesting undertaking. Six months out, the journey is just beginning...

The New Caretaker's House

2009-08-29T08:18:00.001-07:00

Wondering how to get fish for free? I'll let you in on a little secret. All you need to do is build a nice little caretaker's house, then put out the word that you are looking for a new caretaker to inhabit it. A few weeks later, expect to have job applicants showing up with gifts. To see how we did it, read on...

As you've seen from previous posts, we already have one little casita built on our lot. We originally intended that to be the caretaker's house. We worked out a deal with the caretaker for them to stay in it while we are not around, but when we arrive, they have to split and go back to their own house in town. The problem with that plan is that while we are in Nicaragua, we don't have anyone looking after our stuff while we are surfing or if we want to head over to the restaurant for dinner. The place seems really safe, but it would only take one bad apple to notice that we left for dinner and hatch a plan to try to break in. Plus, we like to leave things out in the yard like the wheelbarrow, that could easily be snatched without someone there looking over the place.
So we decided we needed to build another little caretaker's house. The first important step is figuring out exactly where to put it.

We haven't run electricity yet. There's a pole about 200 meters away and an electrician happened to be around, so we met up with him along with our neighbor, Joe, to discuss what would be required to actually have electricity. We are going to need to buy a transformer for about $1,200 and then dig a ditch and run some cable. We never did get a full estimate from the guy! Maybe we'll save that til November when we start construction on the big house.

The next step to getting the caretaker's house built was to head to town with our contractor to start buying materials - roofing, wood, concrete, blocks, tile, etc.

This is the glass store, where we ordered the windows.

The sawmill is an incredibly interesting place, straight out of medieval times!

Oxen are used to pull around big chunks of tree trunks that are then cut by a massive saw.

You can't just go to Home Depot and buy everything you need. In order to find bricks you have to know where the brick lady lives, then select what you want from her stack. We chose the cheaper, more "rustico" bricks.

Next you've gotta start marking out the foundation.
Without power, it's all about cutting the wood by hand. Our contractor, Don Emilio, pulled out his machete for the job!

Soon a big truck shows up to deliver all the stuff we bought in town.

Ryan, with our current caretaker Osmar.
The construction begins...

The roofing materials are used to make a little shelter to protect the tools and bags of cement from the rain.
These guys work all day in the super hot sun for $5 a day.

Ryan, Osmar, and Don Emilio chatting about the progress.
The view from the hotel of the original casita and the roof of our new caretaker's casita.
Ryan's parents were in town and had a chance to meet Don Emilio.

You can't really check the surf from our lot. At ground level you can see the ocean and sometimes the tops of waves, but you can't really see enough to judge the quality of the waves. The new caretaker's house has a slightly better view.

It has a built in shelving unit inside.
This will be their porch scene.

The view from the front door, looking at the road.
The view of the well.
The view of our casita.

By our next trip, 5 weeks later, the casita is almost done!

Our caretaker Osmar gets comfortable on the porch, while our contractor's son applies a few finishing touches.
The boat driver Hilson had already come by to inquire about the job. A few days later he brought over 7 lobsters, and then another week later, this big Dorado!

Ryan takes the fish towards the BBQ to cook up some fish taco fillings!

Nicaraguan Coastal Law prompts road trip

2009-08-25T10:37:00.000-07:00

Nicaragua has finally passed the long-awaited Coastal Law which outlines rules for property development on land within a short distance from the ocean. We had been nervously awaiting the final passage of this law to see how it would effect the beachfront lot we already own as well as some property we were considering buying. In short, the government decided to clarify an old series of laws that related to the subject that were unclear and contradictory. The final decision says that there cannot be any building on any land within 50 meters of the high tide line. The key addition is that the law will not be retroactive and any land already legally acquired with a building permit will be exempt, as well as any already existing structures. To read more about the law, click here.

While I didn't think we had anything to worry about, Ryan was still concerned. So we took a road trip down to the Rivas area to visit a lawyer about speeding up our building permitting process for our beachfront lot at the Hacienda Iguana development.

While in that area, we always stay at The Surf Sanctuary. It is walking distance to Rancho Santana, totally affordable, and is run by super nice people.

We felt like we were on vacation. Running water, air-conditioning, a toilet that flushed without having to pump a well first, and check out the view of the pool!

The Surf Sanctuary is truly a sanctuary!

Playa Santana, a short walk from the Surf Sanctuary.

If you are lazy, you can drive along the beach from the Surf Sanctuary to Rancho Santana. It's a great spot to go to watch the sunset and have a few happy hour cocktails!

Ryan jumps the river.

The view of the surf from Rancho Santana

Happy hour nica libres!

Happy hour with friends.

Heading back to the Surf Sanctuary for dinner.

About 7 or 8 years ago, I met a guy named Miles Walsh in the Mentawais. He bought a lot in Rancho Santana and is building a 6 bedroom surf retreat called Venana A Las Olas. Watch for it as a Waterways destination soon!

Miles hired our friend Tony (who owns the Surf Sanctuary) to manage the construction of his house. We are considering using Tony to help with the construction of our house (if we ever get the building permit), so he took us up to give us some ideas.

The house is beautiful with some amazing views!

Taking in the view from a hill within the Rancho Santana community.

We also own a lot within the Rancho Santana community, but ours is much closer to the beach. Right now it is totally overgrown with weeds and trees. To check out the story of when we bought the lot and see more photos, click here.

For a little perspective on the distance, check out this view from our lot looking back up the hill at Miles' house.

The view from our lot.

Our neighbor's house.

After re-visiting our lot, we decided to try to surf. The swell was small and we weren't too motivated but we met some friends who offered to lead us on a little off-road mission to take the back road to Popoyo.

Popoyo wasn't happening, so we stopped by the Surfari Charters camp to check in with friends. Resident photographer Erin O'Kon offered to lead us down to the Beachy to have a look.

The waves weren't worth the effort, so we cruised back to The Surf Sanctuary to enjoy the rest of our vacation with a couple cold Tonas in the pool.

Stay tuned for more updates!

Keeping my shoulders loose with TRX

2009-07-23T13:06:00.000-07:00

I first discovered the TRX fitness trainer a couple months ago. I had a chance to test it out as a piece of workout equipment that uses your body weight to work out every muscle imagine-able. I'm in pretty good shape. I surf a lot, I ride my stand-up paddle board, I run, I workout on the ball, etc. I thought I was in really good shape until I spent 30 minutes working out on the TRX. I realized that there is still quite a bit of room for improvement in my core strength. The TRX is perfect for that. It is also totally light weight, folds up small, allowing me to take it everywhere, all over the world!
Of course I packed the TRX to bring to Nicaragua. But with the heat, the long hours of surfing, and all the well-pumping I was doing, I didn't really feel the need or the energy to work out. The TRX was still an essential part of my daily routine though. It turns out, it's also amazing for stretching. I found it most useful to stretch out the shoulders and back. It's also good for warming up before running down to surf first thing in the morning. Stoked!

This feels really good!

Want to get one of these for yourself? There's also a surfing specific workout video featuring me using the TRX. Check it out by clicking here.

Living Green In Nicaragua

2009-07-14T09:08:00.000-07:00

No electricity, well-pumped water, gardening, hand washing dishes and clothes, cooking on an open fire, hollow waves right out front. A lot of people ask me why I stopped competing. This is how i'd rather spend my time.
music: "Go Green" by The Wiley One

Living the Simple Life

2009-06-08T07:20:00.002-07:00

Two weeks in and time has slowed down. We've settled into a routine of chores.
Living takes all day.
living can be exhausting

Up before the sun, light the stove, boil the water, top off the coffee cups with a layer of whip cream, sweep the bat guano out the screen door, pet the dog sleeping on the porch, slurp delicious sweet caffeine while sitting in a plastic chair and appreciate the sun rising through clouds over the volcano.

well pumping

High tide mornings send us slipping through a barbed-wire fence, taking a quick walk down to the beach to paddle out. Low tide mornings mean there's time for chores before the sun gets too high and hot. Well pumping, bucket carrying, garden watering, weed pulling, rock moving, hole digging, fruit tree planting, dish washing, clothes washing, hanging to dry on the clothesline.

using a nail to put holes in a rusty old paint can and turn it into a planter. when the only solution to trash is burning or recycling, there's good incentive to get creative.

filling the bottom with sand and rocks for drainage

filling with topsoil

baby watermelon sprouts

harvesting basil for pasta

chopping pasta ingredients by candlelight

showering by candlelight

fighting back crabgrass

Drive an hour to town to buy bricks, windows, wood, cement, groceries. Oversee the construction crew as blocks become walls.
the youth dance team showed up to ask for donations for costumes

buying ice at the local town

Drive five minutes to a smaller town for ice, eggs, tomatoes. Chicken costs just under $2 a pound and it's all free range.

Starting the wood fire just before sunset. BBQ meat while the dog waits patiently and politely for scraps. Eating inside on the floor to avoid the hassle of keeping candlelight-attracted bugs out of the salsa. Asleep just after dark. 7:30pm.

Our vicious guard dog, barking at the local surf kids who always wave on their way home

teaching Ducha to sit

Waking before 5am to start the cycle again.
Enjoying the moment. Living in the right now.

High Tide and Offshore

2009-06-08T07:20:00.001-07:00

Surfers Without Borders plant some seeds

2009-05-30T11:24:00.000-07:00

I met Aubrey Falk almost ten years ago on the North Shore. We were both staying near Rocky Point for a couple of months and became insta-buddies for the trip. It's great to find inspired, independent, easy going, intelligent, ripping surfer girls and Aubrey definitely fit the description. I then went off to do the WQS for a few years and Aubrey continued living the cruising artistic nomadic lifestyle. I have finally decided that her path is a little more appealing. She's hooked up with permaculture and sustainability guru Loren Luyendyk to create an organization called Surfers Without Borders. Click here for their website and here for their blog.

Aubs and Loren are traveling through Latin America, mostly focusing on Mexico, El Salvador, and Nicaragua, spreading the word and teaching people how to live more sustainably. They offered to help us get our vegetable garden going and we were grateful for the assistance!

Loren, Aubrey, and our caretaker, Osmar getting the ground ready for seeding.

Seeds of change....

After making neat, easy to water rows, we started putting seeds in the ground. Tomatoes, chiles, chard, cucumbers, and even eggplant!

Our buddy Boris can't resist getting his hands dirty and has helped us plant a few things over the last couple of years. Boris is the team captain and catcher of the local champion baseball team!

The gardening crew, sipping a few Tonas to celebrate!

That night we cooked up a feast!

And shared some Flor De Cana on the porch...

In the morning Loren even filled my iPod with good music. Stoked!

Then they piled back into their camper....

... and cruised back on their way, North to El Salvador!

Adios, Amigos!
Be sure to check their blog for the continued adventures of Surfers Without Borders!

Now we keep it wet, and wait for the seeds to sprout......

A few quick waves at home

2009-05-27T13:29:00.000-07:00

Buying a used car in Managua

2009-05-25T09:22:00.000-07:00

Darkness had taken over the streets of Managua and we were parked at a gas station pump, the keys locked inside, the car alarm blaring its annoyingly loud series of beeps and honks. We looked at each other in disbelief as a gas station attendant suggested we break a window to get at the keys. “But we just bought it five minutes ago!”
Think shopping for a used car in the States is a nightmare? You should try it in Managua!

We had been meaning to buy a car for a while. After too many three-week trips spending $1,500 on rental cars, “buy a car” had been added to the to-do list. The previous trip, it hovered near the bottom of the list, but this time it was pushed all the way to the top. This trip after a final week of rental car indulgence, the swell dropped and we decided it was time to embark on that mission to Managua.

Brian Hopper and his sweet local-style ride, making a call to help us find one of our own.

A friend of ours named Brian had bought an old red Toyota 4Runner for under $5k in Managua a couple of years ago. It was beat up and adorned with stickers, dark tint, and running board lights. The windshield washer sprayers had even been turned around and filled with flashing LEDs. It was super sweet and we were envious. We wanted something like that so that the cops and everyone else on the road would think we were locals. Brian tried to hook us up with a 4Runner through a local friend of his that was only an hour away, but it was a 1990 and they were asking $7k. Ryan decided it would be better to pay a little more and get a much newer car that would last longer. No getting out of going to Managua.

We arranged to pick up Brian’s mechanic and bring him on our journey to give an expert opinion. On the way to town we came across our buddy Shay, broken down on the side of the road. The alternator on his Mitsubishi Montero had seized up and he needed a pull. We hooked up a 6ft long thick metal chain and pulled him for an hour and a half, going no faster than 40kms/hr, all the way to town. Of course we were happy to help out a friend, and our destination had been the mechanic anyway, but it definitely got us off to a slow start.

Rigging the pull chain...
The chain came un-done right in front of a big group of guys who are working to pave the road. Great timing! We had plenty of hecklers and even some help.

We made it to Managua a little before lunchtime and our mechanic Isaac took the wheel. He drove us to one used car dealership after another. We speak Spanish, but Isaac took the lead and did most of the talking. We were looking for a Toyota, either a 4Runner or a Prado, and wanted to spend about $10k. We wanted something enclosed rather than a truck so that we could keep the boards inside and not attract any extra attention from the cops. The cops love to pull surfers over to extort a few bucks so it’s best to keep the boards out of sight.

Our mechanic Isaac is awesome. Such great energy from this guy!We would have been lost without him.

We looked at a bunch of cars, and test-drove about a half dozen. Isaac did all the driving. He would comment that the engine felt a little “bronco”. At first I thought that was a good thing. Broncos are strong right? Apparently, “suave” is what you want.

The car shopping begins...
This one had sweet stickers, but the engine was too bronco!

Crossing the street to check out some options for sale.

Engines sold a la carte!

We were rolling with $11k in cash on us, mostly in $100 bills. Ryan had put 90% of the cash in an envelope and used first aid tape to strap it to his thigh under his pants. It was hot in Managua and we were all sweating. Around 3pm Isaac and I were listening to the spiel from another dealer while Ryan had started to walk around the back of the car. He yelled at me, “Beck!” I walked over to see what he wanted and there were three hundred dollar bills fluttering in the wind. I scrambled to grab them and he was stressing, trying to hold his pant leg closed to keep more bills from flying out. Apparently his sweat had softened the envelope so that it ruptured and the bills were trying to escape. He tried to slyly hand me a wad of hundreds and shoved the rest in his pocket. 100 hundred-dollar bills is a fat wad!

No one but Isaac noticed, but we were laughing later at what anyone else might have said, “The gringo is melting and it turns out he’s made of money!”
Pocket full of hundos...

By dinner time we had narrowed it down to a white Prado with 160,000kms on it and a green 2000 4Runner with only 90,000kms. After some negotiation we got both prices down to $11,300. We took a break and got some greasy food at On The Run to think.

The Prado looked nicer and was a little bigger inside, but the 4Runner was lighter with better gas mileage and lower odometer count. All three of us decided independently to pick the 4Runner. A final negotiation got the price down to an even $11k. There’s no taxes or licensing fees or stacks of paperwork to deal with like in the States. You just go to a lawyer’s office and wait while they draw up a bill of sale, listing the price as much lower so that you have to pay less for insurance, then head back to the dealership to trade stacks of cash for a set of keys.

Signing the bill of sale...Sweating in the lawyer's office waiting for paperwork. Happy to be almost done.

Handing over the cash.

Our new ride! 2000 Toyota 4runner!

The gas tank was empty so before heading back home in our new ride we had to stop and fill up. The streets of Managua are difficult enough in daylight and the sun had set so Isaac offered to drive at least until we reached the highway. He pulled in to the gas station and we all got out, leaving the keys inside. I went in the shop to grab some drinks for the ride home and when I came back to the car Ryan and Isaac were frantically trying to figure out a way to break in while the alarm was screaming.

“What happened?”

“I was standing there and all of a sudden heard a beep and a click. The damn thing locked itself with the keys inside!”

As I said in the beginning, one gas station attendant suggested we just break a window. We weren’t about to do that. At the same time, the manager ran out and started hassling the attendant who had been pumping our gas. He asked Ryan, “how much did you pay him?” Ryan said 900 Cordobas. Apparently, the attendant had figured out a way to change the display that said how much was owed. He showed Ryan the display that said 900, and Ryan gave him the money. The manager somehow knew and pushed a button that showed the true price of only 720 Cords. He’d ripped us off and we would have never known had the manager not showed up to call him out. All that was going on while the alarm was still blaring.

Another heckler showed up just to watch the three of us frantic trying to figure something out. Finally he held up his keys and said, “I’ve got a Toyota, maybe my key will work.” It was worth a try. Sure, enough, his key opened the door and Ryan quickly hit the button to silence the alarm. What are the chances?

Upgrading the tires.
First surf trip in the new ride.
We went for a cruise with our buddy, Shay.
We had driven several hours to a funky little beach to try to wrangle a boat. Ryan and Shay went off to speak to some fishermen. None of them were too eager to drop what they were doing surprisingly. You'd think they'd be eager to earn some extra cash!

We finally scored a boat and took a really long ride to a funky little left. It was small and mushy but at least we had it all to ourselves.
Post-surf Cokes, before the long drive home.

The upgraded homestead.
: )

Settling back in

2009-05-23T15:06:00.000-07:00

It's May and the end of the dry season. The dust flies with every step and the hills are brown. Plants cry out for relief and skinny horses whinny their agreement. Everyone is waiting for the changing of the seasons. The thunder clouds gather to the South, giving us hope but still no relief. I did a little rain dance one evening and looked to the sky for an answer that still hasn't come.

In the meantime, we have settled in to our routine. Coffee made with water heated by a wood fire.

I made a big bowl of guacamole from enormous avocados and got excited about planting cilantro seeds so that soon we will have some of that necessary ingredient. For some reason it doesn't seem to exist down here.

Brian, using my TRX for a post-surf stretch.

Our friend Brian Hopper showed up to say "hello". We met Brian a few years ago. He's from San Diego and owns 80 acres a few miles North of here. The day we met him we had just planted our first 18 trees on our lot and were at the restaurant telling stories of our exhaustion. He showed up and announced that he had just planted 2,000 teak trees. "You win!" Now there are eucalyptus and palms as well growing on his lot.

Brian had great information to share about solar panels and water towers. As soon as we realized it was Sunday, he invited us over for a BBQ to check out his land and solar setup.
We gathered a few of the friends staying at the hotel and headed out to pick up some beers and ice. The corner store was bustling with Sunday afternoon delinquency and debauchery.

Brian's solar controller.

We grabbed a few beers each and set off to walk some of Brian's 80 acres. I got really excited about this bridge. This time of year the river is dry, but by August it will be raging!

The crew was awesome! Joe, Brian, Dave, Shay, and Ryan.

After the long hot walk, we were stoked to get back to the house and smell garlic and shrimp cooking in the kitchen.

Shay has been living in Nicaragua for a handful of years and while you might think that would make him totally accustomed to the heat, he was surprisingly the most excited about getting back to the shade!

After another quick walk, the rain finally started falling! We rejoiced! We then rejoiced even more when we made it back to the hotel and participated in the weekly taco night. Hurray for Sundays!
Waking up to a rain-filled wheel barrow was thrilling.

Ryan, trying to get the fire started with wet wood in the dark.

Bring on the rainy season!!!!

Home Again

2009-05-21T14:54:00.001-07:00

Ahhhh..... that's the sound of realizing I had been holding my breath since November. It feels good to exhale and finally refill my lungs with the purest energy i've found in this world. Ok, so it's a little dusty and there's the scent of bat guano to deal with...
Even so, it feels amazing to be home.

Sunrise over the Volcano and Silver Joes Coffee brewed over an open fire, great combination!

We are getting to know a fellow lot owner named Joe Fernandez. He's an amazingly cool guy. Mellow, interesting, and intelligent. Ryan eagerly showed him the new plans he designed for the proper three bedroom rental house and second smaller casita where our caretakers will live.

The casita was originally intended to be a caretaker's house that we could use while in town and for storage but since our caretakers leave when we arrive we feel a little uneasy that no one is there to look after our stuff while we are surfing or out to dinner. We decided we needed to build a second smaller caretaker's house so that they can be around and vigilant all the time, even when we are home.

The locals have started to figure out that gringos = $$$s. A particularly enterprising local named Hector showed up to offer us some land he has for sale. We decided to go check it out just to see. He took us on a long drive down progressively narrower dirt roads. At one point Hector and Joe had to hop out to clear our path of a large tree.

The land for sale was nothing to get excited about. It was just a random rectangle covering about four acres in the middle of nowhere. It did have a view of the ocean but without a good wave within walking distance, we decided to pass. Hector was incredibly disappointed.

Before heading home on our last trip we instructed our contractor to bat-proof the casita. He removed the capotera and stuffed some foam into the entry points in the roof. The photo above gives an indication of how successful that was.

During the building process, huge piles of small rocks called piedrin were mixed with sand and cement to make concrete. In the end the unused piedrin were scattered over the ground making walking barefoot unpleasant. I am adamant about spending as much time without shoes as possible and set to the task of removing the rocks. I might have a slight case of OCD and spent hours tweaking out, bent down, removing rocks by the handful. It was strangely soothing. After all the stress of family, people wanting my attention, etc., of the past few weeks it was incredibly meditative to focus on the simple task of moving rocks.

We found a massive pile of horse manure nearby and decided to score some for fertilizer. Shoveling manure definitely brought back memories of my chores as a 14 year old horse-owner.

We had to pull over to let the beer truck pass. He definitely had priority!

Way better than the ice cream man! Now if we could only get him to deliver...

Back porch chilling after an afternoon of good honest work on the land.

More coming soon.... stay tuned!

Rabies?

2009-02-24T09:54:00.000-08:00

Sunset over the Pacific

When the sun sets in Central America a new cast of characters comes out to play. Pesky mosquitoes, big fat toads, fast hopping frogs, banded geckos, and bats rule the night. Fortunately, our casita is equipped with screens to keep out most of the unwanted pests, but ants, spiders, and geckos still found their way inside. There seemed to be an unending trail of ants parading up the wall and into a hole in the corner. They carried off tiny grains of sugar spilled on the counter while sweetening the morning coffee, and larger bugs that died of natural causes. I didn’t particularly mind their cleaning efforts, nor did the surprisingly loud chirp of the geckos cause me to lose any sleep.

A strange bug.

The bats however were another story entirely. Most nights we saw them flying in fast circles at the top of the restaurant palapa. They were high above and harmless. We staggered back to the casita each night around 8pm, exhausted from a full day in the sun. Rather than bothering with lighting any candles, we usually went straight to bed, anticipating an early morning of starting the fire for coffee and making it into the water before the peak high tide. One night, Ryan woke me around 11pm with the flashlight following a bat on its circular path around the room. It seemed a little disappointed in the small size of the room and was loudly bumping into the walls on each orbit. Occasionally, it would dart lower, making a pass only a few feet above our heads, but it wasn’t enough to disturb my sleep and I rolled over and went back to sleep. An hour or so later Ryan woke me again. “Look!” He pointed the flashlight directly above us and it seemed the bat had tired and was resting in classic bat pose, hanging upside down, peacefully wrapped in it’s wings. “He’s sleeping, it’s fine, go back to sleep.”

Another few hours had passed and the bat was done with his nap and circling again. This time, Ryan had had enough. He went outside and grabbed a 7ft long piece of bamboo we had cut to transplant, and began using it to sweep the ceiling and try to shoo the bat out the open door. This sent the bat into even more of a frenzy. I put the sheet over my head only moments before Ryan swatted the bat, sending it into a dive. It landed on my shoulder with a gentle thud then bounced into the corner. Ryan immediately threw a towel over it.
Just when he had it cornered, we heard more flapping. “Tell me there isn’t another one!” Unfortunately, there was. I got one quick look at the little guy huddled in the corner before Ryan scooped him up and tossed him outside. He looked like a little brown mouse with a wider head and longer arms that held his wings.

Cute little bat

“Why do you have to mess with such a cute little thing?” I asked. Ryan reminded me of the story we heard on NPR a few days before the trip about rabid bats. I wasn’t worried, but the rest of the night he insisted on sleeping with his neck pillow as a bat guard, worried about Rabies shots in the stomach.

My boyfriend Ryan and his bat guard

I fell asleep dreaming of all the empty nighttime waves we would score as vampires. A few days later we had our builders come out and plug up the small holes in the roof, and the bat battles ended for good.

Bat-proofing

When we got home, Ryan still had bats on the brain. He started thinking the bat might have bit him. We researched rabies and bats online. From what I could tell, most rabies came from vampire bats which do exist in Nicaragua. But, were these cute little bats in our casita actually dreaded vampire bats?

I found this photo online of a vampire bat. Our bats didn't look nearly as scary, but then again, I never got a good look at the face. I tried to compare this photo to the photo included above of the bat on the blue broom. They looked similar, I guess, but it's hard to tell.

After reading more about rabies I learned that once symptoms of the disease start showing, there is 100% mortality rate. Basically, if you get the disease, you die, every time. Of course, you can get shots, but that's not as easy as it seems. After a whole lot of hassle, calling the doctor, the county, etc. Ryan finally started getting the first of 10 shots, all in the butt. He wasn't happy, but at least now he can mess with whatever critter comes his way for the next two years without any chance of getting rabies!

Nicaraguan Living

2008-12-17T10:46:00.000-08:00

We've been home for almost three months now and it's been a little painful. I went to Wisconsin for Thanksgiving, to Hawaii for a week in January, and we actually had a week of surf and weather in California that was about as good as California gets. I appreciated being home. But now, that has worn off, and I'm craving being back down South. I realized there were more photos that still haven't been posted, so i'm trying to live through them right now to experience life in Nicaragua.

After the house was built the scrap materials were dumped in a pile along the fence. Our contractor informed us that he knew someone that wanted to buy 6 of our planks. He asked what we wanted for them. Not sure of what they were actually worth, we decided to the barter system was a good idea.

We had seen a cool ramada at our friend's house that he used to support viney fruit trees. So, we suggested a trade of those planks for whatever they were worth in the type of wood used to construct a ramada. We weren't sure how many we'd get.

A few days later, the guy showed up with a horse-drawn carriage full of long pieces of wood.

It actually took him two trips to deliver it all, and they were much taller than we had expected.

The following day, he came back with his younger brother and they quickly constructed our ramada which then attracted birds and hanging plants (brought by one of the best young local surfers in exchange for the pair of boardshorts we gave him).

We hung the plants from the corners and planted passionfruit and other viney crawling fruits at the base of each post (they weren't planted yet when this photo was taken). Eventually, the vines will crawl up and their leaves will make shade so that we can hang hammocks from the corners to provide a cool vivid place to hang out.

Ryan pulled some scraps out of the wood pile to build a raised planter for herbs like cilantro.

We also bought a few pots in town to plant chile seeds. I wonder if they have sprouted. I wish I was there to watch them grow little by little everyday.

After really working the shoulder muscles hauling rocks and buckets all over the lot, we finally bought a wheelbarrow, then wondered why we didn't just buy it on day one instead of waiting til the very end of the trip.

A kid that herds cows everyday showed up see what the gringos were up to and point out the different types of spiders swarming our wood pile. There were so many spiders it was incredible!

The Butchman, waiting for the laundry to dry.

This is Felipe, one of the hotel employees, an excellent soccer player, and new surfer just figuring out how to get in the tube.

We are already making plans to start building the big house. Ryan stands on the car to check the view and try to figure out exactly where to place the house on the lot to maximize the view.

I brought our solar shower so that we could take warm showers at night. Even though the weather is really warm, it's still nice to get a warm shower.

Sunset from the porch.

Hopefully we'll be back there again soon!

Fruit trees, flowers, machetes, rocks, and vines

2008-12-05T07:49:00.000-08:00

Everyone here, from the smiling girls who giggle shyly when we pass, to the free-roaming horses, to the dogs, is pregnant. Is it the culture? The free time? Or maybe just the contagious vivacious energy that seeps into my bare toes from the rich volcanic soil as I giddily slide through the barbed wire fence and skip down the rocky path to the beach. Regardless of how tired I am from daily four hour surf sessions, endless sun-baked bucket carrying, or kneeling on the lot for hours, painstakingly removing pounds of golf ball-sized rocks by hand, one by one, from the grass over which we will eventually hang hammocks, I am energized by the richness of this place. There is dirt under my finger and toe nails, my back is sore, and I don't ever want to go home. No, scratch that, I should say, I want this to be home.

The Butchman, leading the way through the bustling and vibrant marketplace.

The next step in our story of home improvement was heading to town to buy some equipment and supplies. On the list were a hose, a bucket, a funnel, a large water container, a machete, shovel, and more fruit trees and flowers.

Ryan, choosing a machete.

Ryan's mom gave us a book of plants of Costa Rica. The book was a valuable resource showing photos of plants and trees that grow well in the region along with a description of the flowers or fruit, the resource needs of the plant, and how tall each might grow. We read through the options, picked out our favorites, and then browsed the plant store or vivero for the plants.

Ryan and Butch discussing options.

We wanted a type of ground cover called mani forajero or peanut grass. We had seen it at friends' houses and according to the book it resisted both drought and flooding, staying green with small yellow flowers year-round. We asked the guy at the vivero if they had any, and he went out front, laid a rusting metal square on the grass growing just outside the entrance, and simply ripped a section out of the ground, rolled it up, and handed it to us.

With all the plants blocking the breeze, it was hot in the vivero, but a rotating sprinkler gave Ryan and idea of how to cool off.

We then stuffed all the plants into the back of the car even though some of them had been pulled right out of the ground and still had a patch of dirt as feet.

The planting process was undertaken over several days. It was a lot of work to dig the holes and carry buckets of water to each newly planted friend. The above cactus is called pithaya. It makes a purple fruit often used in juice. The juice is bright purple with strangely textured seeds that Ryan loves. It is called dragonfruit in English. The cactus grows up a wall, fence, or tree and then hangs down looking like dreadlocks. See photo from the vivero of a mature pithaya plant below.

Sears, taking a turn on bucket duty.
As I said, the planting process was very time and energy consuming. Fortunately we had help. Another friend from home, Ryan's buddy Sears, was visiting with his family. He showed up one afternoon and offered his help.

Sears also dug a hole for this little papaya tree.

Sears' daughter Amelie was curious about everything.

Butch took a break in the shade.

"Ok, enough of this bucket carrying!" While we were getting really strong carrying 5 gallons of water back and forth, all afternoon long, to water plants, do the dishes, flush the toilet, do the laundry, take a shower, etc., Ryan finally came up with a shortcut. We would still have do some carrying, but the distance would be dramatically reduced. He devised a plan involving a 25 gallon container and a hose.

Butch helped Ryan attach and seal the spigot to the container, while our buddy Tio Kevin posed on the porch.

Step one: fill container with water by pumping well (while Tio Kevin does more posing).

Step two, turn on spigot then walk to end of 100ft hose and use hose to fill bucket, saving 100ft worth of shoulder-straining bucket-carrying.

Around this point, Don Emilio, the contractor who built the casita, showed up to make sure we were happy with everything and to ask when we wanted to start building the bigger house. To my surprise, Ryan said, "maybe in May!"

People asked us, "won't you get bored living down there?" To which we could reply, "Um, no. There's always something to do!" This afternoon, that something was digging through the pile of rocks that came out of the ground as the well was dug for good stepping stones, and then using them to make a stone path.

Our buddies Shay and Boris showed up to check out our progress.

Ryan put the machete to use as a back scratcher.

He then demonstrated how he would use it to fend off any attackers.

With most of the trees in the ground, we could relax a little and enjoy this place.

Most nights the sunsets were amazing!

"I never want to leave!"

Check back next time for photos from week 3.

The Casita - A first look at our home in paradise

2008-11-24T06:31:00.000-08:00

Summer in Redondo Beach is depressing. Crowds swarm the beaches, not that it matters since there is rarely any surf. I hunkered down, using an occasional desperate drive to Huntington Beach to keep the muscles limber and the mind as sane as possible, but it wasn't easy. The only thing that got me through the August anxiety and surf-less September stress was the knowledge that at the end of October we would be returning to Nicaragua.

I actually started packing a month before the trip. I made huge piles of clothes, dishes, silverware, tools, and surf accessories that we would cram into four massive bags and carefully weigh to make sure they were just under the 50lb maximum.

By the time we hit the dirt road after months of waiting, a night of flying, and a morning of driving, the smell of a herd of cattle slowing the car to a stop was thrilling and relaxing all at once. Almost there...

Pulling up to our lot finally, I was giddy and a little nervous. We had seen photos of our house, but we were finally seeing it in person. Our caretakers were there. The lady that watches our caretaker's kids while they work at the hotel nearby was making fresh tortillas on a wood stove they had built in a shady spot along the fence. Their laundry was hung out to dry on the barbed wire, and two pre-teenaged girls struggled to sit on one plastic chair, while the five year old named Panchito shyly looked up at us from his seat in the dirt. It felt like we were invading their space, their home. We were so shy we did a lap around the house, peering inside through the window, until we finally realized that it was our house afterall and opened the door to check out the inside.

Since there was no furniture yet in the house (our caretakers had been sleeping on the tile floor with only a blanket as padding) we checked into the hotel for a couple of nights.

Ryan was really stoked on day one of three weeks away from his air conditioned office!

We brought a couple friends from home to check out the place we have been raving about, "Butch" on the left and "Doooglas" on the right.

Butch quickly made himself at home by first making friends with the locals.

Butch in front of local style house.

Since Dooglas only had a week in Nicaragua, we made sure to show him a few sights. We went up to a friend's house in the hills for appetizers.

We were served a delicious juice made from a fruit called grenadilla. The taste and texture reminded us of pear juice, but it comes from a giant, watermelon-looking fruit that grows on a vine that will climb a trellis. We were very impressed and decided we needed to plant some on our lot.

Our friend also had a litter of 3 week old puppies to play with.

I instantly fell in love with this little black one. "Please can we take him back and love him? He will make a good guard dog!" Ryan said, "no!"

Our friend took us on a boat ride the following afternoon and we pulled out the fishing poles.

Even with the "Butt Juice" we didn't get any fish.

The view of the casita from the hotel.

A parade showing support for Daniel Ortega's party.

It was the day before the US presidential elections and a few days before the Nicaraguan Mayor elections so political discussions were everwhere, even on the street corner where we bought a bed and mattress for the casita for less than $100 US.

With a soft place to sleep, we could finally move in!

The view from the front door.

This is the view looking out the front door, but it also happens to be the view from the toilet.

Looking out from the kitchen sink.

As you can see the sink is in place, but since we don't have electricity or the water hooked up, we used buckets to bring water into the casita.

After surfing, porch chilling.

Butch points to the head-high Malinche tree that was only 6" high 4 months ago.

The Almendra grew more than four feet in four months.

The Butchman, testing the well water.

The well actually became a gathering place.

This is what cross-training looks like.

Every morning we made coffee over the fire.

Sadly, at the end of the first week we had to say goodbye to Dooglas, but our lot improvements were just beginning. Check back soon for more updates!

Casita Nearly Complete!

2008-08-25T07:20:00.000-07:00

A neighbor's view of the casita, through the tall, rainy season weeds.

I'm barely getting through the late summer doldrums. After traveling nearly non-stop from February to June including two trips to Nica, totaling nearly two months of warm water and amazing Nicaraguan waves in between months in Australia and Tahiti, spending all of July and August in often gloomy and mostly flat Redondo Beach has been difficult. Granted, my body and mind did need time to relax and recover, but now i'm fiending for waves and adventure.

We've also been wondering how our little casita is progressing. Thankfully, my friend Kristin Wilson was super nice to snap a few photos and send them our way.

Here you can see the open bodega storage closet which has yet to receive it's heavy steel door, as well as the small patio with wooden post.

Our contractor, Don Emilio, overseeing the painting process.

The kitchen!

Vaulted ceilings for better air circulation.

Shower tile.

The window in the back of the house at the bottom of the lot.

The view of the hotel.

The view out the front door.

The view out the window and to the surf.

We were incredibly excited to see these photos this morning, but all they just make me all the more desperate to get down there and see the casita for myself. I guess it's time to look into plane tickets!

Thanks again Kristin!!!!

The casita really starts to take shape

2008-08-21T07:51:00.000-07:00

I really wish we were still in Nicaragua watching the whole building progress. We've heard from friends that the casita is really coming along and the roof is nearly complete. Unfortunately we aren't down there to take photos for ourselves, but thankfully my friend Kristin Wilson snapped a few photos to show us evidence of progress.

We can't wait to see it for ourselves! Thanks Kristin!!!!

Bloques, impossible tile choices, and Don Emilio - The building begins!

2008-07-15T10:00:00.000-07:00

Every trip to Nicaragua begins with the first mission: get out of Managua as quickly as possible. However, we were starving. This sandwich full of interesting ingredients wasn't too appetizing, but it wouldn't be right if we didn't make our usual stop at Domino's before heading off to the beach.

On his first trip to Nicaragua, our friend Petrucelli remarked, "this Domino's is better than the one in the States!" He might be right. We always order a large pizza and one liter of grape soda, eat half the pizza and all the soda, and take the second half for a snack on the drive.

Ryan hates getting hounded by the window washing kids but at least we had a pocketful of change to share with them.

The one way to guarantee not getting pulled over by the police is to pick up a hitchhiking cop, throw him in the back of the truck, and parade through town with no worries of getting stopped at a checkpoint!

Then, at last, the reward for all the hassle, a cold beer in the mellow afternoon light... aaahhhh!

Of course we were stoked to see our lot again. In the month following our last trip the rainy season had begun and everything was wonderfully green. We were happy to see the lime tree planted a year ago, already head high and green, bushy, and healthy!

Last time the well workers had just struck water so we were interested to see the well in action for the first time. I ran over and started pumping and a solid stream of water began pouring out. It was clear and cool as it pooled into my cupped hands. I licked it to see if it was salty and spit out the rest. It tasted good and clean! The next day I went back, filled up my cupped hands and gulped a few mouthfuls. It tasted great!

Next we walked around the lot to check out our plants. A mystery watermelon plant had sprouted out of nowhere.

The almendra or almond tree we planted last time looked happy. They grow fast, not needing much water.

This is a young avocado tree, one of many we have planted on the lot.

We can't remember what this plant is, but it seemed to be healthy, so hopefully it's something good.

Our neighbor's fence was definitely growing. I used to think that fence posts grew accidentally. I didn't realize that the growth provided a function other than just shade. We learned on our last trip that only certain types of fence posts are used. You actually really want the type that will grow when planted as they will then send down roots and make the fence much sturdier. If your fence posts don't take root "no pegan" they will eventually dry out and fall down. For that reason, we used tiguilote fence posts that are the growing type.

So we were really happy to see ours starting to sprout as well.

On our last trip, we marked out where we wanted the house. We decided that we would start by building the caretaker's house, a small 400 sq ft one bedroom "studio" with a kitchen, bathroom, and a porch. We figured that there would be a lot to learn during the process that would help when building the bigger house later on, and it would be nice to have a place where we could leave surfboards and stay when we came to visit.

Before we left on the last trip, Ryan had sketched some initial plans, we had our contractor, Don Emilio, write up an estimate and we agreed to wire down the money and more formal, computer generated plans so that they could get started and would already be in construction by the time we arrived on this trip. Ryan designed and drew up the plans and we wired the money ($13,000) to our lawyer. Then we got a call from Don Emilio saying that prices for materials had gone up substantially and he wouldn't be able to honor the estimate. Rather than asking for more money, he preferred to wait until we returned, suggesting we could go shopping together so we could see the prices. We trusted him, but agreed it would be good to wait, that way we could have more input in choosing which materials to use.

I love horses! I was happy to see that Shay's initial 3 had turned into 5, including two young ones. They were skittish, but this little cutie let me pet his nose.

The view of the surf from the lower corner of our lot with a cow in the foreground.

The hotel had just setup wireless internet which was incredibly helpful in getting my work for my MBA program done on time! It was slow, but definitely better than nothing.

Ryan usually shapes all his own boards. We call them "funk" boards, but in a nice way. I often think that his boards hold him back though, and bought him 3 new Rustys for "real" waves. It was a little strange to see him riding a board with a logo, but I definitely saw a difference in his surfing.

I was trying out a Rusty model Aviso Surfboard. It is made of carbon fiber and hollow in the center. These aren't the best photos, but trust me, it was really fast and responsive!

The Aviso boards are supposed to be nearly unbreakable. Every other time I have been to Nicaragua I have broken a board. The beachbreak can be heavy and I like pulling into closeout tubes. I was eager to test the Aviso's strength. So far so good! No dings, no breaks. I also got lots of interest from the local kids whose quivers are the result of traveling surfers breaking boards. They were very impressed with the idea of an "unbreakable" surfboard.

Shay has started teaching some of the local kids to surf.
This is one of the newest recruits, Isaac, listening to an ipod for the first time,

and riding a board that has never been broken in half. Most of the boards these guys get are from broken boards left behind. They find a way to piece them back together. Some of them have been broken 2 or 3 times!

As news that we were about to start building spread through town we started getting solicitors offering their services as caretakers. We weren't sure we'd need a caretaker right away since our lot is close enough to the hotel to be easily visible, but we had recommendations that it was a good thing to have someone watching over it at night. Plus we needed someone to keep the weeds low and take care of our trees anyways.

This character, Cesar Chavez, showed up repeatedly to make conversation and make sure we knew he was interested in the job. It started friendly enough and I kinda liked him, but soon it got to be a bit too much. He said he was a chef and there was no work for him anywhere nearby. He said he didn't drink or smoke, was very reliable, had a young wife who was pregnant with their first child, and that if we chose him he could make us delicious dinners. He even offered to cook for us one night as an audition. Ryan didn't like how pushy he was and we had decided against using him even before he showed up with traced "drawings" of ponies that his wife had made along with a letter telling us how much he really wanted a television and then asking us to be the godparents of his firstborn! It was all a little too much! He was definitely the most aggressive but he wouldn't be the last to ask for the job.

After one day of just surfing and relaxing, it was time to get down to business. We went to town to visit our lawyer and pay our property taxes.

This is our lawyer, Aldo, going to pay the taxes. When you register your title after buying your property you get to claim what you paid. If you claim you paid lower, your taxes are lower, but in case the government ever decided to take your land away and pay you back whatever you paid, you only get the amount you claimed. We said we paid only slightly less than we actually did (i don't remember what that claimed amount was). This year we owed $50 in property taxes on this lot. We picked Aldo up, drove him to the place we needed to pay, waited in the car while he paid, made a copy of the receipt and that was it.

Aldo, getting copies.

Ryan with $13,000 US in the local currency.

Then there was the little business of picking up the money. The estimate for all the materials for our 400sq ft house, the septic system, and the labor came to $13,000, so we had wired that amount to our lawyer since our contractor doesn't have a bank account. We had Aldo pull out the money and he handed over a neat pile of 130 crisp US $100 bills. Our contractor Don Emilio said we would get better prices if we paid in the local Cordobas and suggested we first change as much as possible. Aldo called his brother in law, Michael the money changer, who he claimed always gave him the family rate. A few minutes later Michael showed up with a fanny pack full of local colorful cash. He didn't have nearly enough on him, and had to run back and forth a few times collecting it all. Unfortunately, he was never able to come up with enough big bills and we ended up with a huge stack of local money. Aldo wrapped it up in a newspaper for us and we walked out with Ryan trying to pretend it was his lunch!

In Nicaragua there is no Home Depot. Ryan likes saying that it's as if a Home Depot store were blown up and spread across an entire city with each department separated by multiple blocks of crazy one-way streets filled with fast-driving, loud-honking taxis, horse-drawn carts, boys on bicycles, women with trays of fresh cut watermelon balanced on their heads, street vendors, shoe shines, and giggling school girls in uniform smiling at the perplexed gringos wishing they weren't rolling with so much cash.

At the bloqueria, where they sell bloques (of course!), Don Emilio suggested we stay in the car as the price would have instantly gone up if they saw gringos.

We hung out at the lumber store for a while.

Then we cruised to the tile store. There wasn't a whole lot of selection. We knew we wanted a red tile floor and picked that out immediately. Then we looked for bathroom tile. Ryan and I both liked the blue, and picked out this combination, the little squares for the floor and the other with the pattern for the walls. Of course, they didn't have it in stock.

They did, however, have the same thing in pinkish tan. We never would have picked it, but it did match a bit better with the floor tile, so we paid cash and carefully loaded the truck with the heavy boxes of tile. That store also had toilets, but Don Emilio insisted they were cheaper somewhere else. That would be a reoccurring theme of our shopping adventures with Don Emilio. We might be in a store that had a few things we needed but he would insist on only getting one item, assuring us the rest were cheaper elsewhere. He just didn't understand that time (not to mention gas and hassle) are worth money and it might be better just to pay a few more pennies at one store than driving all over town.

"Trapo" wasn't sure why we found the paint choices so funny and was really encouraging us to choose the bright orange color!

We went to the paint store. Ryan is holding up the color choices. Home Depot probably would have had about 300 different shades of white to choose from. Our choice was quite a bit easier. Once we eliminated all the colors we didn't like (purple, red, yellow, etc.), the only thing we were left with was white. Bone white, inside and out. Simple and clean.

We were just starting to get to know Don Emilio at this point. We already knew he was the pastor of the church and Shay had told us that he couldn't read or write. I had asked a member of his congregation how he could possibly be the pastor if he couldn't read the Bible. That's easy, he said, "divine inspiration!" Of course, why didn't I think of that? Regardless of whether or not I believed he had a direct line to God, I was starting to really like Don Emilio and beginning to trust him completely. He was definitely charismatic and had a constant smile and infectious loud uninhibited laugh (which was very often directed at the two silly gringos).

Ryan, choosing from among the sink options.

A very smiley Don Emilio and Ryan with paint, sink, and toilet in the back of the truck. I was happy to see that the toilet was proudly Made in Nicaragua!

We checked this construction supply warehouse for roofing prices. They were more expensive than another store on the other side of town but I couldn't help notice the pre-fabricated outhouse for sale and snapped a photo of an item you definitely can't buy at Home Depot.

This is the glass store where we bought glass for the windows.

I really liked the perfectly lit cat display and took a photo. The owner of the shop noticed my interest and asked if I liked cats. I told him I did and he then asked if I wanted a kitten. I said that I would eventually but couldn't have one right now. That didn't deter him from bringing me a rascally kitten to hold. It was really smelly, loudly mewing, and not happy about being held. It scratched both me and Ryan immediately and we could see instantly why the guy was trying to get rid of it. "Nice try, but no thanks!"

Back on our lot, they had started marking out the perimeter of the casita.

The delivery truck showed up with the first load of supplies.

We were pretty stoked to finally get it started!

They used the roofing material to construct a temporary shade both to provide relief to the workers and to shelter the rest of the materials from rain.

The guys started digging the big hole that would become the septic system.

This will be the frame of the septic tank. They make it up top and then will drop it into the hole when the hole is ready.

One of the workers on our lot, Ruben, the son in law of Don Emilio, also offered to be our caretaker. He said he knew of another beachfront property for sale that already had a house on it. We weren't really interested but decided to go for a ride with him to check it out as a way of getting to know him a little better. He took us to a beach a few minutes up the road and showed us a very sandy lot with a house on it.

This is the inside of the house. Definitely a fixer-upper!

They offered us some fresh coconut milk as a refreshment.

The caretaker of this lot is actually Ruben's father. Immediately upon meeting us he asked if we had any kids. I told him, "not yet", and he launched into a lecture about how we had to get off the pill and stop using condoms immediately. He couldn't accept the fact that we didn't have any kids and wouldn't stop hassling us about it. I tried to turn the attention back on him and asked him how many he had. He proudly replied, "15!" He only had about 3 visible teeth in his mouth and Ryan was nudging me, whispering, "more kids than teeth, more kids than teeth!"

Ryan and I both really like a common tree called malinche that grows tall and is covered in vibrant orangish-red flowers when in bloom. We wanted to plant a few on our lot. On our last trip we pulled a pod out of the tree and started a few seeds germinating. All but two of the seeds sprouted and when we returned we had 4 nearly 6" tall seedlings. We planted them on the lot. On this lot we were checking out there was a mature malinche and below it there were dozens of seedlings sprouted. Ryan showed some interest, and Ruben's father pulled them out and handed them to him in a bouquet to take back to our lot and plant.

a transplanted Malinche

A malinche in bloom.

Every afternoon after surfing, we went to our lot to hang out and watch the progress.

As the hole for the septic tank gets deeper you can see the volcanic richness in the soil.

Here you can see the holes for the footings and foundation.

All the construction was done with minimum tools. No power at all. Each metal piece was meticulously bent by hand and then assembled.

These are the "heavies" of the construction industry in this area. They were all happy to have some work. We were surprised by the cost of labor. About ten guys working for about two months, including the contractor, cost $3,000. Labor is cheap! The whole thing is going to cost about $30 per sq. ft..

Instead of carrying buckets of water back and forth to use in making the cement, they used the pipes that will be used eventually for the septic system, and rigged a pipeline from the well.

The two young horses showed up thirsty, looking for water. Ryan filled a bucket for them.

Once the foundation was laid, the walls went up incredibly quickly!

We were supposed to go home, but still needed to buy a few more things in town and wanted to watch as much progress as possible. This is me calling to extend our ticket to stay a few more days.

The view of the surf from the front door.

Me, standing on what will be the patio.

By the last couple days of the trip, we still hadn't decided on who we would use as a caretaker. Cesar was out, and it was just a decision between Ruben and Osmar. Ruben is Don Emilio's son in law, a church-goer, with a wife and one 4 year old son. He was nice, seemed intelligent, easy to understand, and had an important role in building the casita. He has a job in construction but his wife doesn't work, meaning she would spend all her time working for us. We liked him a lot.

But, we also like Osmar. We had been paying Osmar already to take care of our trees. We've known him longer. He is married to one of Shay's first employees, the head chef at the restaurant. They have 3 kids, two daughters aged 8 and 10, and a son, "Panchito" age 4. They also both have jobs meaning neither one of them will be at the casita during the day, and the big family was a turn-off as they would all be living in the small casita.

Based on the smaller family and the fact that Ruben's wife didn't work, we chose him. Then, we would talk to Osmar and realize how much we liked him, and choose him. It went back and forth for days up until the very last day when we had to make a final decision. Ryan called Shay to ask his opinion and he seemed to lean towards choosing Osmar. So...... that's what we did.

Osmar and his wife, Ruth. Our new caretakers!

Earth, fire, and waves: readying the lot for building

2008-07-11T09:39:00.000-07:00

Late May 2008

After a couple weeks surfing and hanging out, we finally made it back to the lot we had purchased a year ago. Before leaving the country on our previous trip in June 2007, we commissioned a guy named Berto to begin digging our well. He told us that it was best to begin in the rainy season when the rock was softest. The topsoil only goes down about 6ft, after that it's solid bedrock. They dig by hand. No shoes, no gloves, no hard hat, no eye protection. Just a man and a pick, and guy at the top pulling buckets of rocks up and then sending the bucket back down for more (see below for video of this action). He quoted a price of $2,000 for the well, the concrete topper and the hand pump. We left him with $1,200 as a deposit. In September, he called and said that at 37ft, they hit water and couldn't go any further. He told us that the well would eventually dry up and the following Spring, at the end of the dry season, we would have to dig a few meters deeper, but once we hit water then, the well would never dry out again. So, in September we wired him the balance of $800 and agreed to go a bit deeper when we returned.

Now, at the end of May, almost a year later, we returned and were stoked to see our well for the first time. We looked inside and it was bone dry. We had planted about 18 trees the year before but only about 8 remained living. The lot was covered in tall dry weeds. There was obviously a lot of work to be done.

While Ryan caught up with Alex, another lot owner, I was happy to reacquaint myself with the puppy named "Ducha" from my previous post. A year later and she was all grown up.

This mango had grown a lot in the past 11 months!

Berto told us that this is a very sweet fruit, but the exact type was lost in translation. He said that one of the well workers had eaten it, thrown the seed on the ground, and it ended up sprouting. We used some of the rocks that had been pulled out of the well to build a protective circle around it so that it wouldn't get lost in the weeds.

Here's Ryan and Berto, discussing the well.

Alex came by to check it out also.

Since i'm sure you're curious, here's what it looks like inside. The smooth concrete sleeve goes down to where the bedrock starts and from there the rock is jagged where they have chipped away at it. No water here, not yet at least.

Berto said he would re-paint a second coat on the pump. We decided we didn't want ours to be orange and white like everyone else's and suggested he paint it blue. He came back with an awesome turquoise color.

Seeing the lot once again inspired Ryan to continue with the house plans.

Ryan stood on top of the rock pile to get an idea of the more elevated view.

We wanted to plant some fast growing local trees on our lot that would provide some shade since all we had already were fruit trees. Shay suggested a tree called Neem that grows really quickly and doesn't take too much care. You can see a Neem tree in the center of the photo above. We asked Shay about where to find them and he said you could just go look for a Neem tree and below it there would be a bunch of seedlings that we could transplant. So we embarked on a hunt for Neem.

You can see a Neem tree over Ryan's shoulder

The first Neem tree seedling we found was already about 4ft tall. It was perfect but since it was so big we would attract too much attention digging it out. It was on the side of the road and wouldn't be considered stealing from anyone, but we were too scared to cause a scene and decided to keep hunting.

We then found another Neem tree with a bunch of small 6" tall seedlings. These we could pull up without too many people noticing.

"Come on little Neem, you're coming with us!"

We brought it back to our lot and planted it then circled it with rocks so that it wouldn't get lost in the weeds.

After working in the dirt all afternoon, Ryan's feet were super dirty!

His legs and shorts were covered in dirt too.

So he got in the shower to wash everything at once, including his sandals. "This is how a man does laundry," he said.

After all that tree hunting, it was time to relax. I went back to the room to grab a bottle of Nicaraguan rum.

This is the owner of the hotel and godfather of the area, Shay O'Brien. Coolest guy ever.

I made up some "Nica Libres".

Flor de Cana 12 year rum is the best i've ever tasted!

In this photo you can see my green bracelet. I bought it for $20 to support the nica health clinic located near Popoyo. Please see the Roberto Clemente Health Clinic link in the "Giving Back" section on the right side of the page for info on how you can contribute. All donations are doubled, making your money go even further, and are also tax deductible. www.nicaclinic.org

The guy in the hammock is Osmar. He works for Shay but we hired him on the side to help with maintaining our trees while we are gone. We paid him $200 for the year to clear the weeds around our trees so they didn't get suffocated and to water them. He was very apologetic that half of the trees died and explained that the well ran out of water in November, making his job difficult without water.

One of the main goals for this trip was to begin the building process. In order to figure out where to put the house, we needed to have the head-high weeds cleared. We hired Berto to have the lot cleared. He brought in a few guys with machetes to start weed-whacking.

They told us they would cut a perimeter around the lot and then burn the weeds in the center. We weren't very excited about the idea of burning it but they said that is how it is done. We were worried about our little trees, but they assured us that it would be a controlled burn and the trees would be fine.

To see a very short video clip of the guy digging the well and his buddies weed-whacking, hit "play" above.

That night while we were sitting at dinner, someone said, "look at that fire over there!" I immediately realized it was our lot and jumped up from the table to run over and get a closer look.

We weren't very happy that they were burning everything. Ryan kept saying, "it's a good old fashioned slash and burn!" We were worried about the fire depleting the soil and about our trees getting burned.

This is me, checking it out with Berto, the night watchman, Felipe, and his daughters.

The next morning we were saddened but not surprised to see that five of our remaining 8 trees were burned in the fire. Next time we'll pay them extra to chop the whole lot and not use any fire! Here's Ryan tending to a smoked out lime tree that hopefully will survive.

My friend Kristin Wilson lives in the area, working for Century 21 selling real estate. We used to compete together in the NSSA back when we were in high school. I hadn't seen her too many times since then, so it was good to catch up.

This is Ryan with our new friend "Tio Kevin", a merchant marine who also owns property in the area.

Kristin invited us over to check out the house she rents right on the beach to get ideas for the house we would build. We were very impressed. It featured an enclosed bedroom with air conditioning, but the rest of the house was open to the outdoors and artfully decorated.

The view from her living room.

The view of the living room from outside.

Back at our lot, we had noticed that our neighbor installed a fence. We decided we should do the same. Ryan decided we should have two entrances to the fence with a half-circle driveway. In order to mark out where the gates should be, he drove back and forth in the truck.

Using the marks left by tires, we could see exactly where the gates to the fence should be.

We then had Berto install the fence.

Have you ever seen a shinier barbed wire fence?

This is Chevello, the caretaker at Shay's hotel. He had a lot of good information to share. We asked Shay who might be the best guy to talk to about building our house. Shay and Chevello both agreed that Don Emilio was "the man".

We found Don Emilio and he came over to discuss ideas. We decided that we would start by building the caretaker's house, a small 400 sq ft "studio" with just the basics. We told him we wanted it to be more or less the size of the bathroom building with the same type of roof and similar shape.

Don Emilio measures the bathroom building while Ryan watches.

We then walked out to the lot to show Don Emilio what he would be working with and discuss where to put it on the property.

You can see the ground charred by the fire with a few isolated fires still burning up small piles of weeds that didn't get consumed by the first blaze.

Don Emilio looked into the well and noticed it was dry. He asked us if we had consulted a divining rod prior to digging. While some people had suggested we try that, we had decided against it. We were worried they might tell us to put the well in a place we didn't want it, like right in the middle of the lot. Ryan also being a cynic, didn't want to even bother with something so silly.

Besides being a contractor, Don Emilio also happens to be the pastor of the local church. He was incredulous that we hadn't consulted a diving rod. He pulled off an extra piece of barbed wire, un-twisted it into two pieces, held one in each hand out in front of him and started walking the perimeter of the lot.

Berto, a member of Don Emilio's congregation dutifully followed a few feet behind him on his walk.

After turning the second corner, Ryan joined in the parade.

When the boys returned to the starting place, Don Emilio said, "no hay agua," and starting laughing. No water? Ryan didn't think it was very funny and started panicking that they would never find water. He calls himself a realist although he definitely tends towards the pessimistic side. I was optimistic and held out hope. "They might just have to go deeper than expected," I reasoned. "They'll find water," I tried to assure him.

Berto agreed with my optimism, and they kept digging.

The very next morning, Ryan and I walked out to the lot to do our daily surveying and peeked into the well. We were both thrilled! At the bottom was a small pool of water reflecting the light filtering in from above. WATER!

In this photo you can see a few pockets of reflection. It's not a lot of water, but it's a reassuring sign. They won't have to go much deeper now.

With water in the well even at the driest time of year, Osmar wouldn't have any trouble keeping our trees alive this year. So, we went back to the vivero to buy some more to replace those that died of thirst or fire.

Osmar said the trees would be better planted after the first rain, so we left them in their bags for him to plant in a few weeks. We agreed to pay him $40 a month to keep the entire lot clear (rather than just around the trees) so that the weeds wouldn't have the chance to grow to a height where they would have to be burned.

Oh yeah, we surfed too and the waves were pretty fun!

The end of Ryan's vacation time had come. After three weeks off, he finally had to return to work. On our way back to the airport we came across a parade.

This guy on the horse saw me taking a picture and saluted me with his beer!

Check back soon. Next post - the building begins!

Surf, surf, surf, ride horses, and look at houses!

2008-07-09T09:12:00.000-07:00

May 2008

It had been almost a year since our last trip to Nicaragua. Ryan had been busy at work and I had just returned from spending almost two months in Australia covering the first two events of the ASP World Tour for www.go211.com. We both needed a vacation and a chance to reconnect with eachother, our surfboards, and our favorite country in the world.

On a suggestion from a friend, we booked ourselves into a room at The Surf Sanctuary which happens to be walking distance to the Rancho Santana beachbreak and a short drive over the sand to Popoyo.

The Surf Sanctuary is run by super cool people including Tony Longobucco (above and below), who owns the main peak at Santana when it's on and also helps organize local contests to support the Nicaraguan Surf Team.

all surf photos by the lovely and talented Erin O'Kon http://www.ebosurfphoto.com

I was stoked to get into some warm water hollow tubes, even if they were mostly closeouts!

this photo courtesy of http://www.nicaraguasurfreport.com

Anyone who has been to Nicaragua knows about Nicaragua Surf Report. It's a website providing daily surf reports and photos. Every time I go to Nicaragua I like to check it out and see what the surf was like wherever they were shooting and compare it to where I surfed. This day I happened to see a photo of me! I didn't even realize they had been on the beach shooting!

Since the beachbreak at Santana is one of the most consistent and accessible spots, it is always crowded with ripping locals. These two groms were on it every day, all day. This day was pretty solid and closed out and they were the only two out.

self-portrait : )
The Surf Sanctuary even has wireless internet!

It had been a while since we'd visited our lot in Rancho Santana. (Scroll down through "older posts" to read about our purchasing process for this lot). We decided to drive in and remind ourselves what it looked like.

Here I am standing on the corner of our lot in an area of Rancho Santana called Escondida which overlooks Playa Rosada.

The last time we were there it was just a barren ridge of empty lots. We were surprised to see a house nearly finished, two lots down from ours.

The house is beautiful and inspiring. It made us want to start building on ours as well!

No one was around, so I went in for a closer look.

The house isn't even finished but a hammock has already been installed from which to admire the amazing view.

I walked along a path from the new house back to our lot with house design plans bubbling up in my head.

From the street below we looked back up towards the ridge where that house was built and imagined what ours would look like up there as well.

There were a lot of new houses built since last we visited and we took photos of a few of the more interesting examples. The one above had a boat feel with those round windows, and the one below seemed like a Greek palace.

Back at The Surf Sanctuary, Ryan was inspired to work on the house plans for our most recently purchased lot, but the local kitten, "Salty", was doing her best to be distracting.

The animal fan in me can't resist including this photo of Surf Sanctuary's guard dog, "Nica", definitely one of the most loved dogs in the country.

We drove down the beach to surf Popoyo a few times.

Lance and his wife Kristen who own Surfari Charters Surf Camp took us out on their boat to surf a new spot. They are awesome people and we were stoked to have a chance to get to know them.

more epic surf shots by Erin O'Kon

Ryan started on the lefts with everyone else, but since he was the lone regular foot he realized that if he moved over to the rights, he would have every wave to himself!

Tony, once again displaying his patented frontside hack.

Surfari Charters owner Lance rips too!

I was stoked to do a few turns on some fun rippable lefts with only a handful of friends in the water.

There are horses everywhere in Nicaragua. You see them pulling carts, herding cows, and just cruising on the side of the road. As a young girl I used to have a couple horses and compete until I started surfing, was forced to choose, and decided waxing my surfboard was more fun than shoveling manure. It had been a long time since i'd ridden but Tony introduced me to a friend named Dawn who was in Nicaragua teaching art to kids and offering horse backriding.

http://www.myspace.com/reddawndesigns

We went on a ride for several hours up through the hills and then down onto the beach where we fulfilled my longtime fantasy of galloping at full speed along the beach. It was super fun. Thanks Dawn!

When we got back to the Popoyo Surf Lodge someone asked me to pose with a surfboard under my arm for a photo. Ok, whatever. Got the shot!

Most people in Nicaragua don't have cars. They ride buses and bicycles or hitchhike. This group of school kids were stoked and laughing to catch a ride with the gringos.

After a little over a week in the heart of the surf and development zone, we said goodbye to our new friends and ventured off out of the way of the surf camps to a picturesque fishing village and local hotel.

Ryan had a new camera and we practiced taking some modeling shots for a possible Body Glove ad.

We also surfed a super hollow reef break that is still sort of a secret spot, but won't be for long. We surfed it three days in a row with only the two of us out, knowing that we probably won't be so lucky next year.

Ask Ryan where that left is and he'll give you this look.

Next stop, up to the lot we bought on our last trip that you can read about in my previous post.... i'll save that part of the story for next time.

My Turn to Buy

2008-07-07T08:53:00.000-07:00

A cloud-topped volcano

With two lots now in nice developments purchased mostly for investment purposes, we still hadn't found a lot that fit our initial fantasy. We had been looking for something mellow with good waves out front where we would build the house we would want to live in.

On a previous trip we had ventured far off the beaten path of surf tourism and development. We found a beachbreak with a tiny hotel constructed by a Floridian that wasn't quite yet open for business. The tide was wrong for the beach and we only stayed one night then went back to Rancho Santana. On our next trip, in May 07, we kept running into people who suggested we give that beach another look, including Barry Oliver from Century 21. We figured all the recommendations were a sign and made the long drive over very rough roads to give the beach a second look.

We were not disappointed. The hotel run by a very cool guy named Shay was open for business and the waves were big, hollow, and uncrowded. Unlike "surf central" near Popoyo, this region of Nicaragua doesn't benefit from all day offshores. The wind turns onshore around lunchtime much like other places in the world. That has been enough to deter the crowds, although little by little more people are discovering this beach.

Shay had 3 horses running "wild" on his property. As a young girl, I used to have a few horses and compete in equitation and over-fences, so having three beautiful horses roaming about added to the fun uncrowded beach made me instantly fall in love with the area.

The hotel and restaurant

After five days of good waves with few people, admiring the horses, and relaxing in the mellow environment, we started wondering if there might be any lots for sale nearby. We mentioned our interest to Shay. To our surprise, he said that he did have a few lots for sale. Five years earlier he had bought a big chunk of land. In order to have enough money to build the hotel, he sold off a bunch of lots to his friends. He still had a handful without owners. We assumed the ones left over would be the less desire-able lots, probably in the back, without views. The first few he showed us were nice, but fell into that category. Then he showed us the last option. It was 7/10s of an acre, front row, with an easy ocean and even a small window of whitewater view.

Me, standing in the center of our new lot.

We didn't even have to think about it. We immediately accepted the $40k price tag, and with that, I finally joined the Nicaraguan land owner's club. Unfortunately, a few days later we had to return home, but were immediately planning our next trip.

One month later, admiring the lot at the start of the rainy season.

We returned a month later, in June 07. May/June being the transition from the dry to rainy season, the difference in greenness was amazing!

Ryan, stoked to be back in Nicaragua for the second time in two months!

Early morning coffee while checking the surf from the second floor of the hotel.

Putting in fins...

When the tide is right, the beachbreak out front is as good as any beach in the world.

The view of the peak from the corner of our lot.

Hollow beachbreaks have their dangers. Ryan pulled into a meaty tube that closed out. His board flipped over and a fin sliced into his calf. I had broken a board and was running back out with a second one and saw him hobbling up the beach. I looked at the gash and told him he could probably use 4 or 5 stitches. He was adamant about not wanting to take the hour long drive to town, afraid of the un-cleanliness of the hospital. He figured the needles would be dirty and there wouldn't be anything to numb the pain.

His solution? Rum!
Even though it was only 8:30am, he asked me to go get him some rum and coke. I went down to the kitchen. At the time, the hotel offered a self-service drink setup. You helped yourself to the fridge and marked down what you took on your bill. I had noticed a shelf with bottles of rum. I grabbed a bottle of rum from the shelf, a pepsi from the fridge, marked both on our bill, and asked the girls in the kitchen for a glass, some ice, and lime. I took it all up to Ryan and handed it to him to make his drink while I got out our first aid kit to look for butterfly bandages.

He made himself a drink and pounded it, then when I returned with the bandages he asked me to make him another. As I poured the rum into the glass, he noticed some "funk" floating in the liquid. I assumed it had blown into the glass, but on closer inspection, I noticed there was a ton of "funk" floating at the bottom of the rum bottle. He told me to smell the rum, and after taking one whiff of smell from the mouth of the bottle, I knew instantly it wasn't rum inside. It smelled rancid! Ryan had just drank a good amount of it and started freaking out, wondering what he had ingested.

While he doubled over the toilet trying to make himself throw up, I ran down to the kitchen with the bottle to ask the girls in the kitchen what was in it. I frantically explained what had happened and they just started laughing. The told me that they don't keep the real rum out on the shelf so anyone could grab it, the good bottles are in a cabinet in the kitchen. I asked what was in the bottle I had grabbed and they said it was coffee that had been watered down to be the right color, but since it had been sitting in the bottle for who knows how many months, it had gotten "funky".

I went back upstairs with a real bottle of rum and the news that he hadn't ingested anything poisonous. He then drank double the amount of rum he would have originally in order kill any bacteria in his stomach from the "funk" gulp. Within an hour, he was wasted and on his feet smiling, ready to finally go try to get stitches.

No pain now!

Plenty buzzed and all smiles in the doctor's office.

Our friend Alex, a fellow land-owner, told us we didn't have to go all the way to town to see a doctor. There was a small clinic only ten minutes away where he had gotten stitches before. He told us it was totally clean and easy.

It certainly didn't look like an emergency room at home, but the place was clean and the doctor was friendly. He gave Ryan a tetanus shot, a pain killer shot, 4 stitches, bandages, and a prescription for antibiotics. The whole thing including the medication came to a whopping $3.oo US.

Three dollars! The same scenario would have been at least $500 at home, even with insurance! We thanked the doctor and were on our way.

Since by then the wind had come onshore, we decided to go to the vivero to buy some fruit trees to plant on our lot. Shay had told us that the beginning of the rainy season was the best time to plant trees. He suggested we not wait until next year so that by the time we wanted to start building a house the trees would have had a head start and already be a few years old, and hopefully starting to bear fruit.

Ryan, all bandaged up at the vivero.

At $1.50 each, we bought 18 plants including limes, mangoes, and avocados.

Before planting them on the lot, we needed to chop down all the weeds. Ryan borrowed a machete and figured he could do the work himself. Of course, it's never as easy as you think it will be.

While he started weed-whacking, I started digging a hole for the first tree. It was hot and sweaty work!

Soon, a local kid named Osmar showed up and offered to help the hopeless gringos.

We got nice and dirty and were pleased with ourselves and our new fruit trees on our lot!

I'm a fan of most animals, particularly puppies. This one was pretty cute. Her name is Ducha.

Planting the trees in the rainy season gives them a good chance to be watered often so that they have a good root system established by the time the dry season takes hold. Shay told us that some would be able to live through the dry season, but in order to keep all the trees alive once the rain stopped, we needed to start digging a well.

We spoke to the husband of one of the girls that worked in the kitchen named "Berto" about digging our well. He quoted us a price of $2,000 for the well, a concrete topper, and a hand pump. He said they would start digging in the middle of the rainy season when the rock was wet and softer. They would then hit water soon, but the well would dry out during the dry season and have to be dug deeper. But, once water was reached at the end of the dry season, the well would never dry out again.

Some people suggested we consult a "divining rod" to find the exact location for water. Ryan didn't believe in such magic, and worried the rod would point to some place in the middle of the lot where we didn't want the well. Instead, we got a concrete block, chose the SE corner of the lot, and placed the block where we wanted the well.

We'll put the well right here!

We also came down prepared to get ideas about where we would put the house. Ryan had sketched some initial plans but we wanted to see how to orient the building on the lot in order to take advantage of the view. We brought some pink flags to place on the lot to mark the corners of the house and help the visualization.

In this photo, you can see one of our fruit trees, the well marker, and the pink flags in the distance. Each day one or two flags would disappear. The locals were grabbing them and taking them home. There went that idea!

Ryan, walking from the hotel out to our lot.

2 fellow landowners and two random travelers. Brian Hopper on the left bought a big chunk of land further North and planted a teak forest. Next from the left is Alex Rico, a fellow lot owner and longtime friend of Shay.

Yay for our lot, #26.

Rancho Santana and Hacienda Iguana - Time to buy!

2008-06-10T09:08:00.000-07:00

We looked, we waited, we pondered, we returned, and by our fourth time in Nicaragua, we decided it was time to buy. We had come a long way since our maiden trip to the country. On that first trip we experienced a whole lot of frustration, were against the housing developments and their attached real estate agents, and weren't even sure we would ever return. We imagined ourselves far away from people in a rugged wave-rich utopia but came up empty. Fortunately, we did return and eventually fell in love.

After quite a bit of exploring we decided that maybe the real estate industry wasn't so evil. The best waves happened to be in front of the nicest developments, and with people and security came a more comfortable investment.

Ryan, coming out of a tube at the Rancho Santana beachbreak

Appreciating the pool on my way to the bar at Rancho Santana

The beach in front of the pool at Santana is a fun Sebastian Inlet style wave that bounces off the rocks and throws out a quick tube, but also features more peaks further down the beach. It picks up quite a lot of swell and is the first spot to check if the waves are small. The peak is usually best on higher tides. It does get crowded. Watch out for ripping locals and the guys from Surf Sanctuary who own the peak when it's on.

We enlisted the help of Rancho Santana's sales agent, Tom Gordon, to show us some lots in our price range. Since the beginning of our land hunt that price range was steadily increasing. Originally we had hoped to spend no more than $30k, but little by little we realized that a little more money bought a lot more quality, so Tom showed us lots in the $60k-$80k range in a section of Santana called Bella Vista.

Bella Vista is a ridge accessed by steep, graded dirt and cobblestone roads, featuring lots in the half to just under an acre size range with breathtaking views up the coast towards Popoyo and the Outer Reef.

A tree-lined Rancho Santana road

Hunting for real estate in Nicaragua is a sweaty activity! I had to take a break in the shade. The concrete square in the photo is the water hook-up for the lot and can be used to easily see the lot boundaries.

We really liked this lot. I believe it was called Bella Vista #029. It was larger than some of the other lots, relatively flat, making for easier building, and had a 360 degree view, including the sight of neighboring Costa Rica in the distance. It was offered for $80k and was our first choice, until Mark Brown from NSR suggested we look at a few lots in the Playa Rosada section of Santana. We hadn't been interested in that section previously since the lots there were more expensive, but agreed to let him show us a few for sale.

The cove of Playa Rosada is the most beautiful i've encountered in Nicaragua. The sand is sprinkled with tiny pink shells which give the beach a rosy hue. Mark Brown, his wife, two daughters and their golden retriever named Oro, have built their house on one of the best beachfront lots. The wave is a fun but short left that can be hollow. There is also a beach club with a pool that is accessible to homeowners and renters.

There is another deeper cove around the corner without any surf but excellent for spear fishing.

The streets and hills in this section of Rancho Santana are not nearly as steep as those in Bella Vista.

Mark showed us this lot labeled K2. It is only a 1/4 acre but very gently sloping and easily build-able. It is a re-sale offered for $100k. This was obviously out of our intended price range but Mark was able to convince us of the much increased value for several reasons.

First, the flatness would make for cheaper building. Second, the proximity to the beach would make for a higher rental value, and third, the feeling of luxury in being a part of the more intimate and exclusive Playa Rosada community would add to the resale value.

While the view didn't give you the same feeling of being so high and overlooking as the lots up in Bella Vista, it was still magnificent with the Outer Reef and Popoyo easily visible. We speculated that a second story would be able to see the surf at Rosada as well, which would certainly add value. Finally, the fact that the lot was on a ridge that dropped away in front and behind, guaranteed that there would be no house immediately in front that could possibly block a view, as well as no neighbor behind peering into windows.

Ryan went home, talked his college buddy Jordon Inkeles into sharing the burden of the investment sight-unseen, and the two of them officially joined the Nicaraguan land owners club.

A month or so later, Jordon came to Nicaragua to check it out for himself. The development next door to Rancho Santana is called Hacienda Iguana. Where Santana is large with multiple altitude changes and long rolling hills, Iguana is completely flat. Santana is bordered by a series of coves while Iguana has a river and a long stretch of flat beach. The only lots at Iguana featuring an ocean view are the ones lining the beachfront, but there are river view lots as well as lots lining the only golf course in the area.

Ryan, slotted comfortably in another perfectly offshore tube.

While Santana boasts a wide variety of surf spots, Iguana can lay claim to quality. Not to say that the waves at Santana aren't great, just that the beachbreak at Iguana is one of the best beaches in the country, producing very shapely and hollow waves if the rivermouth sandbar is right.

Here's me, bottom turning and about to hit the lip on a less tubular but definitely rippable wave.

For rental info, see the NSR link on the right side of the page---->

The prime vacation rental in all of Nicaragua in my opinion is the white "NSR house" that sits directly in front of the main peak. Stay here and you are guaranteed to get epic uncrowded waves. Speaking of crowd, the high quality definitely attracts a high number of surfers. Fortunately for Hacienda Iguana landowners or renters, there are only a few ways in. Own a lot, or rent in the development and you get access whenever you want. Own or stay at Rancho Santana and you can drive to the furthest South point of the development, called Rancho Los Perros, park and make a long hot walk down the beach. It takes a solid 20min and is done in the full heat of the sun and soft sand, but is definitely doable and worth the effot. If you stay anywhere else you must boat in. Since the boats usually don't show up 'til around 9am and must leave plenty of time before sunset, and the walkers usually don't arrive 'til later and must leave early too, staying at the NSR house means you can time your session based on the crowd.

On this trip we were staying at Santana and making the daily walk. Fortunately we were able to make friends with the crew of guys staying at the NSR house and they were nice enough to allow us to hang out in between sessions and use their fresh water shower.

Here's one of the guys, Dean LaTourrett, author of the Surfer's Journal article on buying land in Nicaragua, and currently working with the Save The Waves organization (see link on left side of page) caught just slightly too far back on another perfect one.

Jordon and Ryan discovered a beachfront lot for sale with the help of Mark Brown. It was about a 1/3 of an acre, called A19, and was offered for $260k. While that was well outside our original price range, Mark didn't have to do any convincing of the quality, rental, and resale value. (In fact, now a year later, there was an offer made by someone wanting a beachfront lot and willing to pay $360k! Not a bad return on investment if they wanted to sell.)

The view from the lot to the surf.

Looking down the beach in the opposite direction is the peak called Panga Drops. I've actually never surfed it, but i'm told it is a friendlier, more longboardable peak that picks up a lot of swell and can be more fun than the main peak if the swell is small.

Jordon and Ryan were sold. They brought in a third friend to help with the investment and added a prime beachfront lot to their collection.

Hopefully the building process will begin soon.

"Dad, Nicaragua has a lot of investment opportunity!"

2008-06-09T15:36:00.000-07:00

After that last trip to Nicaragua, Ryan and I couldn't stop thinking about all the investment opportunities. We both live frugal lifestyles and save our money. No big screen TVs or new cars here! So we both had a decent amount of cash sitting in investment accounts. Still, we were wary about putting too much into real estate in a Latin American country, especially because we couldn't decide on just one lot.

Ryan had decided that the safest investment would be in one of the housing developments. Rather than taking the cheaper and riskier option of buying directly from a local, buying a lot in a development would cost more but also eventually be worth more. A house in a development would probably have both a higher rental and resale value. It also would come with built in security, power, and water. Fewer headaches cost more, but would probably also pay off much more further down the line.

I had fallen in love with the river lot shown in my previous post. The tranquility of the bubbling brook, the trees, and the seclusion just seemed perfect. But, I wasn't prepared to throw down $90k cash in order to call it my own. I tried thinking of friends that might have some money and would also want to invest. Unfortunately most of my friends are female pro surfers who would definitely love the land, but are using all their income to feed their travel addictions. None of them would have enough to help me out. The only person I could think of was my dad.

My dad loves investing. He once threw some money into the surf shop where I worked in High School. He bought a condo for my sister to live in while attending Cal State Long Beach, and had also bought into a few restaurants. I'd already shown him photos from my trips and told him about the great investment opportunities down there, so it wasn't too hard to convince him finally to take a trip down there to check it out for himself.

We planned a trip for August and since it was summer, brought along my two youngest sisters, Helina (age 17) and Hayla (age 14). They both surf, although are far from professionals. My Dad however is from Kansas and although I have tried pushing him into waves a few times, has never actually stood up successfully on a surfboard. I was interested in what we would do since it would be my first trip to Nicaragua without surfing being the first priority.

We always fly with Taca. They may not be the most well-known airline but they are usually the cheapest from LAX. They also have a good schedule for a weeklong trip with departures leaving at 2am and arriving at 10am, then leaving Managua at 5pm and arriving back home at midnight. It's a grueling schedule but at least you don't lose a whole day traveling.

My sister Hayla's first sunset in Nicaragua.

Hotel Summer in Masachapa has awesome food, especially the shrimp with garlic and butter! In this photo we're drinking coffee and my dad is consulting the travel book for sightseeing options. That's something i've never done on a trip with Ryan!

My Dad always likes to be prepared. He brought a collapsible cooler from home and filled up with ice and sodas at the local store.

The first stop on our real estate tour was the housing development of Gran Pacifica. Only a one hour drive away, it is the closest surf friendly development to the capital and airport at Managua.

Gran Pacifica offers lots as well as condos for sale. The lots come with a commitment to begin the construction process within the first two years to discourage owners from simply "sitting" on the land as an investment. It features a golf course and paved streets with curbs.

We checked the beachbreak out front and it was sunny and offshore until we decided to paddle out. As so often happens, immediately the clouds rolled over and the wind picked up. Helina and I paddled out and caught a couple waves anyways.

Gran Pacifica is situated just to the North of the section of coast that benefits from the lake effect winds. So while Southern Nicaragua is offshore all day, Gran Pacifica is more like anywhere else in the world where the wind comes up onshore around lunchtime.

Like most young girls, my sisters love animals! I had warned them that Nicaragua has animals roaming around everwhere. Everything from piglets, cows, horses, chickens, puppies, kittens, seems to be scattering under foot. They were not disappointed.

I warned my Dad that the food in Nicaragua isn't as good as Mexico. I still can't figure out why the concepts of the tortilla and chips with salsa never made it that far South. No burritos here unfortunately. He disagreed and thought the food was really good! Here we are at a restaurant on the sand in Pochomil enjoying a pretty phenomenal chicken dish with rice, beans, and fried plantains. Super good!

Far off the coast, a place I never would have visited with Ryan on a surf trip, is the extinct crater lake Laguna de Apoyo. It was beautiful and we went for a swim.

There was even a platform for jumping!

And we convinced Dad to jump too.

The rustic accommodations at Laguna de Apoyo are definitely worth a look.

On a previous trip, Marc Brown from NSR had suggested we visit the volcano. He said that volcanos in Nicaragua aren't roped off like the ones in Costa Rica. "You can hang ten on the crater if you want!" He wasn't kidding. At Volcan Masaya, you can look right over the ledge and down into the smoking crater. In fact, pulling into the parking lot an attendant will insist that you pull in backwards so that the front of your car is facing the exit just in case a sudden eruption necessitates immediate evacuation. Apparently a few years ago, just such a thing happened and charred the parking lot!

Volcan Masaya also offers caves for spelunking. The stalactites and stalagmites aren't as developed as I have seen in other caves, for example those in Western Australia, but being underground that close to an active volcano was certainly thrilling!

The tour book insisted we visit Granada.

Then we made our way to San Juan Del Sur.

Taking our tourist mentality to the limit, we went for a zip line tour.

The starting platform....

Helina was feeling it!

My Dad enjoyed the offroading.

We checked out the Chococente Turtle Preserve and since it was daytime and the turtles are usually out at night laying eggs, we didn't see any turtles.

But, we did see surf. It was overhead, offshore, and absolutely no one around. We ran back, grabbed our boards, and I paddled Helina out into the biggest waves she had ever tried to surf. I was incredibly impressed by her bravery.

Helina got pounded by a set and broke her board. Her first broken board ever! She was bummed but also kinda proud.

We stopped at my favorite restaurant on the beach at Popoyo for some chicken and gallo pinto (rice and beans).

Little Hayla still hadn't gotten a chance to surf. We were about to leave San Juan Del Sur, but saw that there was a left breaking in the corner of the harbor with a bunch of local kids on it. It was small, protected, and super mushy. Perfect for Hayla!

Hayla, up and riding on her first wave in Nicaragua!

Next stop on the real estate tour, Rancho Santana. Here Helina and I are enjoying some coffee in the outdoor palapa.

Yes, there is wireless internet in Nicaragua. My Dad was able to check in with work from a rental casita. Aside from many ocean view lots and a few complete houses, Rancho Santana also has casitas for sale, which my dad was interested in buying as a rental property. We figured the best way to check one out was to rent one for a few nights.

Rancho Santana also has it's own mini market.

The development next door to Rancho Santana is Hacienda Iguana, the final stop in our Nicaraguan real estate tour. Iguana has a golf course and is also situated on one of the best beachbreaks in the country. There are ocean front, river view, and golf course front/view lots and condos for sale.

Of course, the trip wouldn't be complete without shopping for a gift to bring home to Mom.

So, did my Dad fall in love with the river lot and agree to invest with me? Nope. That would have been too easy.

He did really like the country, but since he doesn't surf he was solely interested in buying whatever would give him the best return on his investment. After surveying all the options, he decided to purchase two condos at Hacienda Iguana.

The land hunt begins

2008-06-08T09:18:00.000-07:00

By our third trip to Nicaragua we had fallen in love with the place. As a professional surfer i've had the good fortune to travel all over the world. I've spent time nearly everywhere one might call a surfer's paradise. There are phenomenally beautiful places out there where I would love to have a second or even first home. However, most are either too expensive, far away, or remote. When I think of all the elements; cost, proximity to home, familiar language, good food, friendly local people, and of course, amazing surf, Nicaragua scores highest in total score. So, Ryan and I decided that we would buy land in our new favorite country. The search was on.

We figured that the cheapest option would be to avoid the gringo-geared housing developments and buy directly from a local. The first step was to drive around and look for signs advertising lots for sale in Spanish. We found a few but looking into them wasn't as easy as it had been in Mexico. Fortunately, we happened to meet a friendly ex-pat surfer who happened to be in the business of selling real estate. His name was Marc Brown, and he and his partner Bryan McMandon had moved to Nicaragua several years prior, bought up a few big parcels, and were in the process of subdividing. Ryan has never been very trusting of real estate agents. They are always trying to sell you something. Based on that negative preconception, we were incredibly impressed with Marc and Bryan. They were far from the stereotypical pushy real estate agents. They were just guys that loved to surf looking to facilitate the same sort of lifestyle we were dreaming of. When we asked Marc about real estate, the first thing he did was tell us the reasons we might not want to buy. He advised that the best thing to do was go surfing, enjoy the place, meet the people, consider the risks of buying in a Latin American country, then if we were still interested he offered his services to show us around.

We also met an American named Randy Hood who owned a hotel in Ecuador and had bought a lot in Nicaragua with a few partners with plans to build an upscale rental house. He told us about a local that was selling some land nearby. He said to look for the salmon colored pulperia and enquire inside. A "pulperia" is a little store that sells sodas, snacks, water, and a few assorted grocery items like soap, etc. We drove in the direction he suggested, found the salmon colored building and asked inside. The owner was out of town but his daughter offered to show us the lots for sale.

She showed us a lot map detailing GPS coordinates of the land. It was a long strip that went up a hill featuring three plateaus. It totaled about 4-5 acres and was offered for $50k.

The first plateau featured an ocean view.

The second plateau had a view of the surf, a fun beachbreak with a right sand point that is good on big swells nearby.

We had to make our way through a very overgrown section to get to the peak.

The view from the top was breathtaking. It offered a 360 degree view of ocean, waves and valleys.

"We'll take it!" I thought.

We were pretty excited about this find. Initially we had hoped to spend less than $50k. We were looking for something in the $30k range. Marc had warned us that we shouldn't spend more than we were prepared to lose. But, it seemed like a great deal considering the location and view.

Of course, if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. One thing to beware of when buying in Nicaragua is the history of the title. During the war in the 80s, many landowners abandoned their property to escape the violence. A lot of that land was then taken and occupied illegally. Technically, the original owners could return anytime and make efforts to re-claim it. For that reason, it is only wise to buy land that has a clean title of recorded owners going back 40 years or so.

Unfortunately, this particular land didn't fall into that category. The owner was a retired military figure who had been given the land as a reward for his service by the military, which essentially guaranteed that it had been seized during the war. Of course, the chances of the original owners returning at some point to claim it were small, but it was enough to deter us from taking the risk.

Ryan and I are coffee fiends. We aren't the type that will sip it all day, but one solid cup of coffee in the morning is absolutely essential. Instant just won't do. Usually we travel with a kettle that can be plugged into the wall to heat water and a plastic cone that is filled with filter and ground coffee, placed over a cup and as hot water passes through it brews a fresh cup of coffee. On this trip our kettle decided to die on us. Planning an early morning assault on the surf we didn't want to wait until the restaurant opened to get hot water, so we asked for hot water the night before, made our coffee into plastic water bottles, wrapped them in wetsuits and towels to keep them as warm as possible and drank it just slightly warmer than room temperature the next day. It wasn't perfect, but definitely better than nothing!

All caffeinated up, we drove to a semi-secret left reef. The wave is very tide sensitive and definitely not for beginners. It does a mini-teahupoo-style, sucking double-up tubing takeoff that then rifles along the shallow urchin-encrusted reef. It is a perfect wave but definitely on the heavy and dangerous end of the spectrum. The takeoff zone is tiny. We surfed it alone but realized that any more than 6 people in the lineup would be a very irritating and dangerous crowd. The fact that there is a big housing development with condos being constructed on the beach right out front, made us appreciate the current emptiness and worry about the crowds of the future.

Ryan, pulling in backside.

As I mentioned before, we were against the idea of buying in a housing development, but a few Kms up the road was a 3 acre lot for sale by an American who had bought a big piece and was selling a section in order to fund a trip around the world. He was asking $90k. The lot featured a big flat section on top with just enough view of the ocean but not any whitewater.

The selling point for me was the fact that it stretched down hill and ended at a river that runs even in the dry season and is broken up by big boulders. It was beautiful. I was instantly envisioning a yoga/writers retreat. We could have a house on the flat section with a big garden and room for a horse, then another structure down the hill with a big balcony looking out on the river. $90k was once again more than we had planned to spend, but the lot was big enough to be broken up into a second piece that could be sold in a few years to offset the cost.

The main downside was that there was only that one epic wave plus an average beachbreak within an easy drive and both would be overly crowded by the housing development someday.

We returned home from that trip with a much better idea of what was involved in buying land in Nicaragua, but so far no land to call our own.

"Tenemos el dinero, queremos la tierra!"

2008-06-06T15:10:00.001-07:00

September 2005

“Hola, Tacho? Somos los gringos. Tenemos el dinero, queremos la tierra!”

For those of you who don’t speak Spanish, that translates to “ Hello, Tacho? We are the white folk. We have the money, we want the land!” I was repeating that phrase loudly into a public telephone at the airport and I’m sure the other people waiting in the quiet terminal must have thought that sounded funny as I yelled into the phone to compensate for the language barrier and bad connection. Thinking back on it, I’m laughing too.

Rewind, five days before. My boyfriend Ryan and I were sitting in front of the computer at home, checking the swell forecast for the following week. We saw a big red blip in the Southern Hemisphere, promising to blast South facing beaches with the last solid swell of the season. Luckily for him, who has to hold down a Monday through Friday 8am to 5pm job, the swell was forecasted to hit on a weekend. What would we do, dawn patrol Lowers with everyone else in Southern California, charge Newport, fight the current at Huntington? None of that sounded too appealing, especially to Ryan. He suggested a couple of relatively unknown left point breaks in Mainland Mexico instead. That sounded good to me. The next step was to check plane ticket prices.

The first day we surfed double overhead reeling lefts with only two other people for hours. They weren’t world class. I never got barreled, but the drop was fun and the walls were long and rippable. That, added to the simple fact that it was so uncrowded that any wave was up for the taking, made it super fun. Driving back to the hotel after a long satisfying session, Ryan brought up the topic of buying some land as an investment, a place to visit, and maybe retirement location someday. He had first visited those waves almost ten years ago and had been offered a beachfront lot for $5,000 but hadn’t had the foresight to realize what a good deal that was. We decided to look into it and see how much the prices had gone up.

We happened to run into our buddy from home, the legendary Jack Cirritos

The next day on our way to surf we noticed a sign on a fence that read “lots for sale” then a phone number and the name Tacho. The lots were just South of the point, not right out front, but close enough to see the first half of the wave before it reeled into the next bay. Deciding to look into it later, we paddled out but the whole session I was fantasizing about going in, rinsing off with fresh water, having some juice and a snack, then paddling back out for more fun. I imagined relaxing in a hammock and watching empty lefts peel along the point. I decided we would buy one or both of those lots and build a home.

After the wind turned onshore we embarked on a mission to find this Tacho. We drove into the tiny town, bought a cold soda and some chips at the only market and enquired about the sign we had seen and asked where we could find Tacho. A man in a cowboy hat drinking a brightly colored liquid with a straw from a plastic bag pointed down the street and said to look for the house with the dollar sign painted on it. Following his instruction, we found a small white house with purple trim and a big black dollar sign spray painted on the wall. Tacho was home.

His wife set chairs out in the patio for us and seemed delighted that a pair of young gringos had come for a visit. She tried to offer us glasses of water and tamales but we declined, fearing for our health. Tacho was nearly impossible to understand. Ryan and I both speak pretty good Spanish. We don’t know every word and our grammar isn’t perfect, but we can competently carry on a conversation. Since we both learned Spanish in school, we speak the educated version. I have no problem conversing with people in the cities or professionals like doctors or lawyers, but the country folk present issues. Tacho spoke in slang and sounded like he had marbles in his mouth. He would rant in long paragraphs, making no effort to speak slowly and clearly for the gringos. We figured we probably only understood about half of the conversation but were pretty sure he said that he had inherited the land and was now trying to cash in. He insisted the two lots be sold together but informed us that the house in town was part of the deal. One house in town and two beachfront lots totaling 5 acres for $200k.

We threw him in the back of the Jeep and drove back down to the point to walk around on the lots. Most of the land was covered in overgrowth, but the view from the front was epic. After stomping around a while we dropped Tacho back at his house and drove back to the hotel excitedly, imagining the possibilities. We would even get a house in town! How cool is that? We considered holding the lots for a while, building a front house and then selling off smaller pieces to friends in order to have some cash for building. Eventually the front house could be a clubhouse in our own mini housing development, but that would all come years into the future. For now, it would just be our own secret escape.

The view of the lot, looking down the South side

Me, excitedly pointing to the takeoff zone from the lot while Tacho stands there patiently.

Unfortunately we were supposed to get on a plane that evening. There wasn’t enough time to make arrangements. So, we went to the airport, picked up the phone, called Tacho, told him we had the money and we wanted the land, changed our flight, then went back to the hotel to make more excited plans.

That morning in the surf we had met an educated Mexican surfer named Jose who also owned land in the area and spoke clear Spanish, not to mention perfect English. After the session he gave us his business card and suggested we visit his office if we wanted more information about the land in that area. The next afternoon after another super fun surf session, we made our way to the El Cid mega-resort of which our new friend was a manager in the financial department. He told us all about his experience in buying land in that area.

Of course because he is a Mexican citizen he can own the land outright, while we would only be allowed a 99 year lease. He explained that a Mexican corporation or bank would hold the title and that the lease would be repeatedly renewable so in essence we would actually own it despite the technical hurdles. We already knew all that but it was nice to have it explained by someone who could answer our questions.

Then he told us the bad news. All the land in that area is “ejido” land. Ejido land is given to a community to use communally. There will be some paperwork like a title with anywhere from a few to hundreds of names listed as “owners” or legal users. The right to use the land can be passed on to offspring who may not even have their name on the title. In 1991 the Mexican President eliminated the constitutional right to ejidos, allowing them to now be sold, however the process is still tricky. Jose informed us that the first step is to pay for the land to whoever is selling it. It then takes about 5 years for the paperwork to be turned into a real title. In that time, anyone can make a claim to the land based on having been a part of that community. They could either take the land back or demand money. Jose had purchased land like this and was in the process of waiting for the title to clear, all the while concerned that someone might show up and make a claim on his land. “Hopefully,” he said, “that doesn’t happen.”

Ryan, talking to a local who also offered us land for sale.

There is another way to take over land as well. If you can show for 5 years that you have been living on it and working it, it will be given to you. In Mexico, squatters do have rights! So, Jose was paying electricity bills and water bills even though there wasn’t even a structure built on his land yet. He also made a point of showing up and stomping around on his land often so that people could see him there. Either way, he said, at the end of the 5 years, the land would be his.

After hearing all that, we were less fired up than we had been. Instead of extending our trip another day, we went home to think about it. Once at home we sunk back into our familiar routines and slowly forgot all about Tacho and his beachfront lots. We still dreamt of owning land in Latin America however, and our second trip to Nicaragua rekindled our passion.

More to come…

My New Favorite Place in the World

2008-06-03T14:52:00.000-07:00

We used to go to Mexico, my boyfriend and I. Only a few months after we started "hanging out", he suggested we take a trip to Mainland Mex to really get to know each other. He took me to a hollow thumpy beachbreak with a solid left point a few hours' drive South and I fell in love, both with the surf and with him. The next three years, every time he had saved up enough vacation time and I had a break in my travel schedule, we would escape to the land of banditos and sandy grinding tubes.

He had been visiting that particular beachbreak for nearly ten years, always staying at the same hotel. It is a family owned place and he knew every family member by name. When the adult children wanted to visit the US, he and his friends picked them up from the airport, gave them a place to stay, and showed them around town. He'd spent birthdays, Christmas, and New Years with them. Of course, he had developed a similar affection for the waves.

Then, one trip we decided to try something different. Nicaragua.
(The story from that first trip can be found in the blog post below.)
But the story that follows is that after one more trip to our favorite place in Mexico, we decided to give Nicaragua another try. By now it has been over 3 years and we haven't been back to Mexico.

First Impression - A Nicaraguan Surfing Adventure

2004-07-03T14:33:00.000-07:00

Surf adventures aren’t supposed to be easy. You really shouldn’t show up with everything planned, get through customs, find the smiling uniformed hotel employee with a sign bearing your name, and then hop in a shuttle to the 4 star resort with mints on the pillow. Even staying at a “surf camp” and cruising in an air conditioned Suburban with a young fired-up local hired to guide you to the best surf spot doesn’t really count. Those sorts of outings are surf trips, but not adventures. Ask anyone who has been on a true surf adventure and you will doubtless get many more interesting stories than you would from the sunburnt “bro” who toted his epoxy Merrick to a resort, spent a week sipping umbrella drinks by the pool and eating safe but bland “international cuisine” at the hotel, whose biggest problem was the day of rain that kept him from “bronzing”.

As a pro surfer, I’ve had the luxury of participating in many comfortable trips where everything is planned. Body Glove sponsored boat trips to tropical wave rich paradises, 5 star all-inclusive resorts in the Maldives, and first class treatment in Tahiti are great opportunities for showing up, getting waves, and of course good photos. On the other hand, contest trips are usually far from luxurious with many girls crammed into overstuffed rental cars and hotel rooms. There isn’t much time to explore or enjoy the area with the pressure of preparing for the event at hand. So, when planning a much needed “free surfing” trip with my boyfriend, we opted for a Latin American adventure, but where to go? Costa Rica is too crowded. El Salvador has been getting too much attention lately, and I’ve already done Panama. We decided on Nicaragua and expected mellow crowds and all day offshores.

Even when certain details are planned, there are never any guarantees. I’ve come to believe that car rental reservations in Latin American countries are virtually useless. Not entirely surprisingly, when we showed up at the counter with a print out of our online reservation, we were told they didn’t have any available. After consulting with every company, our options were either a jelly bean on wheels for twice the amount we were quoted online or a 4x4 truck for three times that. When it comes to rental cars, “you get what you pay for” and we would seriously regret taking the cheaper option.

The plan of attack was to drive down to San Juan Del Sur, the tourist capital of Nicaragua, and then work our way North into the lesser-frequented parts. San Juan was exactly as you would imagine a town like that to be. Trucks pass by in the afternoons spraying nose-burning insecticide into the air. Ex-pat gringos with dark skinned kids driving big beat up trucks guarded by mean-looking dogs cruise the streets like they own them. Pudgy sun-burnt packs of American or Canadian girls marinated in mosquito repellant practice their college Spanish by ordering “una mas cerveza”. The locals hang out in clumps along the sea wall, watching both, but not in a surprised manner. There are plenty of hotels, night clubs, restaurants, and surf shops advertising surf guide services. Most surf spots are easily accessible by boat, but we weren’t looking for the easy way out. Armed with a map and a Surf Report we were determined to drive, hike, or paddle, or some combination of all three. Whatever it took, we weren’t going to be “sissies”.

Our first sunset in Nicaragua, San Juan Del Sur

We didn’t have the luxury of comparison to any number of years ago, however it was obvious that Nicaragua is changing. Every few Kms or so is a sign advertising land for sale by an American real estate company, and many high-priced fenced-in “gringo” communities are already in the works. We drove for a while and then turned off on a dirt road that dead-ended in a “no trespassing” barbed wire fence. One of the two Nicaraguan men hanging out in a small wooden shack informed us that we could walk to the beach from there. He pointed up a freshly bulldozed hill and around a corner giving mostly confusing directions for what he claimed would be about a fifteen-minute walk. He smiled and offered to let us park on his property and volunteered to watch our car. My boyfriend Ryan asked him if many surfers went to the beach there. He said, “yes, people go to the beach when it is hot”. It was far from clear whether or not we were at the right place, but we applied sunscreen, grabbed our boards, and started the hike. Fifteen minutes later, we were sweating off the sunscreen from the heat and the hill and still hadn’t spotted the ocean. Ryan decided to hop a fence and follow a trickling river that would surely be a shortcut to the beach. We came across a drainage pipe about 4 feet high and 20 feet long and were just about to pass through it when our voices set a flurry of screeching bats into frantic flight inside the pipe. Instant nightmares came to mind of having one stuck in my hair. Up and over we went instead.

Finally, we made it down to the surf. It looked fun, but not empty. There were five guys out on a short shoulder-high right with a boat anchored just outside. I paddled out just as they were heading back to the boat. Apparently, the tide was too low now, although they had scored earlier, and they had seen some guy with a machine gun roaming the beach. We didn’t like the sound of either report, but felt obligated to catch a few waves anyway. In a few minutes we were alone in the lineup and the surf had stopped breaking. There was nothing left to do but start the long walk back and hope for an afternoon session elsewhere. On the way up, we missed our shortcut, tried to find a new one, retraced our steps several times and found ourselves on the wrong side of a “no trespassing” sign. Jumping that fence quickly, the machine-gun patroller ever present in the back of our minds, we finally made it back to the car. The afternoon session at a much more easily accessible beach break wasn’t much better. The waves were small and mushy, and absolutely packed with way too many clueless beginners and un-sharing locals accommodated by a surf hostel and restaurant within heckling distance of the lineup. It was time to explore other options to the North.

Nicaragua doesn’t have a paved coastal road. The main highway sits inland several Kms and offers poorly marked dirt roads branching off to the West. We chose one and drove a while, passing through and around incrementally more threatening mud puddles. Keep in mind our “jellybean” had only about four inches of clearance. At one point, I thought the pool would be impassible, but a friendly local on a bike volunteered to ride through it and test the depth as well as the traction. He gave us the “thumbs up” signal and we skidded through only to come to a much thicker mud slick a few minutes further. This time there was no way our two wheel drive roller skate was going to make it. The beach was within sight and we jogged out to check it. Looking to the South, we could just see what looked like overhead offshore hollow peaks. It seemed a little crowded, but really good quality. The waves were better than anything we had seen so far, but we just couldn’t get to them. “Stupid car!” We contemplated leaving it there and hiking in to surf, but with all of our gear inside, it would have been too easy of a target for anyone wanting to break in and make off with everything. Sure we felt good about not taking the easy way out, but frustration was starting to set in. There was nothing to do but keep driving North.

A couple hours later we came to another well-known surf spot. There was definitely swell, but after everything we had been through, the thickness of the crowd was a turn off. There were plenty of guys in the water, guys walking towards the water, guys coming in, guys hanging out at the restaurant and on the balconies of a handful of surf ghetto-style hotels. That wasn’t what we came for. The frustration was building as we got back into the car once again. We had to wonder if there were surf camps everywhere now? Were the days of putting in a little more effort and getting un-crowded waves over? So far, it seemed that way.

Our last hope was a port town to the north that was rumored to have a few decent waves. There are two huge lakes in Nicaragua that produce offshore winds all day long. Unfortunately, like most of the rest of the world this year, the weather has been strange. We learned from other surfers that for ten days before we arrived it had actually been onshore all day, virtually unheard of in Nicaragua for that time of year. So far we hadn’t experienced the all day offshores either, but since this port town is the furthest North to benefit from the lake-effect winds and a solid swell was on the way, we were hoping all the elements would come together and we would finally be rewarded.

Morning dawned, sunny and offshore. We drove off through the mud to check a left we had heard about, through a very quiet rundown town. So far we hadn’t seen any other “gringos” and the local people seemed to regard us with curiosity, which we took as really good signs. The wave didn’t look like much. It was mushy and short, but at least head high with no one out! A friendly local offered to show us where to park so we could keep an eye on our car while we surfed. He eagerly hopped into the passenger seat for the ride and insisted we honk the horn as we passed his house so he could wave proudly to his family. After a few cutback filled waves, the tide seemed to improve and there were a couple small cover-ups on offer for about twenty minutes until the tide got too low and it just closed out. It wasn’t much, but it was our best session so far.

We went back for lunch at the only restaurant across from the only hotel in town. I ordered “Fajitas”, not really expecting to get anything like the sizzling chicken, onions, and peppers served at Mexican restaurants at home, but the waitress described them similarly enough, so I was surprised when she brought out fried chicken strips with french fries. Ryan had a couple beers and we sat back and tried to relax in the heat. After lunch, we took a walk to check another spot near the hotel and suddenly all plans for an afternoon of relaxation were off. Was it a mirage? It was really far out, but it looked like a reverse Maalea. Perfect lefts were rifling across, three or four at a time. It looked solid, fast, and absolutely amazing. “We’ve got to get out there!” We raced back to the hotel and grabbed our boards, but it was no quick hop into the lineup.

Sharky!

First came the frantic scramble through a guarded fence, down a slippery sludgy mud slope, over some flat rocks, to paddle across an estuary with a swift current. Then came a sticky walk across a mud flat and finally into the shorebreak. At that point, the journey was only half over. The waves were breaking on a shallow sandbar in the middle of a harbor mouth. With the tide surging in, the paddle to the distant lineup was made that much harder. Ryan is a mechanical engineer for a helicopter company and unfortunately spends Monday through Friday in front of a computer. Without the training of a pro surfer, the paddle for him was especially strenuous. He was a few yards behind me yelling, “Beck, we’re not going to make it! We’ll get swept into the harbor mouth and out to sea!” He did have me a little worried, but I had my eye on those perfect lefts and was determined to get out there no matter what. It was breaking so far out that we had only just realized that there were already a few guys out. I was both relieved and disappointed. We assumed them to be locals but couldn’t figure out why we repeatedly saw them do one massive turn and then not make the wave. They could obviously surf, so we wondered if the wave was just too fast?

Upon finally reaching the lineup, it all became clear. It was a handful of young Brazilian pros and a floating water photographer. They took off, pumped down the line, did a massive “hack” in front of the lens, and then the wave would peel off without them. It was a little smaller than it looked but even more perfect. I took off on my first wave, pulled in, came out right in front of the camera and the pro surfer in me considered pulling off the wave and paddling back out to quickly get another opportunity in the photo zone. I have been on so many photo trips that weren’t about riding the entire wave but just performing on the best section to get a shot. On a trip with David Pu’u to the Maldives, I was actually chastised for riding the wave all the way through, since it then took me longer to get back out into photo position. I had to remind myself that I was not working here. This was all about fun. Unfortunately, the ‘zilla boys did their best to remind me of the way their culture works by showing respect to Ryan but backpaddling me on every set. Machismo is definitely not synonymous with chivalry. After less than an hour the wind turned onshore and effectively ended the fun. I was a little frustrated with the boys, but overall we were ecstatic. We had finally found what we had come for, a perfect wave, with no surf camp in sight. We decided to post up there and await the forecasted swell.

Two days later we were up before the sun anticipating the reward for all our suffering. We had found the wave, understood the tide, knew the Brazilians had left for the South the previous night and the swell was filling in. We were about to enjoy the fruits of our labor and claim what we had come for; perfect waves with no one else out. It started with a walk, then a paddle, then another walk, and a final very long paddle. With no one else in the lineup and such a long distance to any markers on the beach, the take off spot was hard to find. The swell was much bigger and nowhere near as clean. It was cloudy, brown, and lumpy. I took off on the first wave I could get and rode it till my thighs burned. This left Ryan outside by himself. He caught a wave as I was paddling back out, and then I sat outside alone. I was overcome by a very creepy feeling. Ryan had ridden his wave so far that he was out of sight and I sat there a long time in the murky water with the distinct feeling there was something big in the water nearby. This was not the session we had imagined after all. Ryan finally made it back to the lineup and seemed just as uneasy. Sitting next to each other, we watched a set approach. I saw what looked like a fin pop up behind a wave with another swishing, water-displacing thing a few feet behind it. It wasn’t a dolphin.

“Did you see that?”

“Let’s get out of here!”

We turned on the first wave of the set, caught it together and rode it all the way to the sand on our stomachs. There was no doubting what we had seen and the paddle across the estuary was done very nervously.

There were only a couple days left before Ryan had to head back to work and already we seemed to have exhausted our options. We had dealt with the friendly surf environment and attached crowds to the South, we had explored the more rugged spots further North, and other than a few magical moments had mostly come up empty. Driving back towards San Juan del Sur we stopped at a resort to have a cold beer under a palapa and finally do some relaxing. Maybe we had put in enough effort and deserved a little pampering. There was even a beach break out front, although the river had been running for a few days and the peaks were a little too chocolaty to look appetizing. The next two days we slept in crisp white sheets, ate normal international cuisine, drank beers with the “bros” in the evenings, and walked down to a reasonably fun left that was only marginally crowded. Maybe living the easy life isn’t as evil as we imagined. As we packed up our jelly bean one last time and turned towards the airport we giggled about all the difficulties, the crowds, the long walks, the longer paddles, the shark. It was certainly an adventure, but maybe next time we’ll do that boat trip. We deserve it.