Sun, Sand, Sea and Stitches

This will be my last Central American piece of writing as I return home a slightly more tanned and relaxed, or as they say over here ‘tranquillo’, person with stories and scars to prove the adventure was worthwhile.

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Las Flores (me)

During my previous stay in Antigua I’d made contact with Beach Co Guatemala and in particular its owner Mike Dunlevy.  An Australian who has made Antigua his home  and has become somewhat an authority on Guatemalan waves and with El Salvador only a four and a half hour drive away*, there too! With that in mind we’d been chatting over email watching the forecast for Guatemala and planning a strike mission to this fabled river mouth right; Iztapa.  Wednesday was the day.

*Most of us British surfers based in London this is a paltry amount considering the quality of the waves we make it our mission to surf.

I bought a loaf of that fabled banana bread and went to bed early only to be woken by someone checking in at midnight, why oh why.  I was sitting outside the hostel at a ridiculous hour (0430) when Mike pulled up in his car and introduced me to a bleary eyed ‘raaaadicaal’ American called Charlie and our photographer for the day Jorge to make a full contingent.

With Mike heroically navigating through the night avoiding car killing holes and vicious sleeping policeman we arrived at dawn to the edge of the river where Mike found us a boat to take us across what could’ve resembled the River of Stix so much debris was flowing down it from storms the night before.  Safely across, however, and a short stumble across the already hot sand a 6-10ft (4-5ft Australian) barrelling beach break met our eyes, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one with more than butterflies stirring in my belly.

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No one knew what awaited us on the other side of the river… photo by Jorge

The break we were looking for began to show right in the centre of the river mouth which was flanked by a manmade rock groyne defensively thrusting out into the ocean on one side and a natural rock point on the other.  At this point the wave almost looked like a standing wave found amongst the rapids in rivers but as the tide turned, Mike led us out in the murky waters. 

We paddled out close to the rocky jetty only to find ourselves drifting way down the beach until we had made it out of the rip and out to sea meaning a long paddle back to the river and then attempt to try and sit in the middle of river mouth waiting for the wave to connect across.  Staying in position was tough but soon the waves came with Mike shouting me into my first one which peeled, barrelled over my head, and annihilated me, wow this wave has power.  Mikes turn next; he made the drop (the part where you paddle and to catch the wave you literally have to drop into it) turned and also got sent into the centre of the washing machine during which his leash (the plastic rope attaching a surfer to the board by the ankle) snapped and he was left to swim to shore to pick up his now damaged board and head out again with Charlie and his backup board leaving me alone and somewhat anxious!

They rejoined me and Charlie started making the break his own by taking and making some serious late drops.  The locals joined us making the total in the line up five!  The tide turned, the current disappeared, the sea turned turquoise and the waves started to pitch and reel right across the river mouth with top to bottom barrels making it the most critical drop and best waves I have surfed/tried to surf ever.

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My fins pre butt attack. photo by Jorge

Another wipe out later and my butt, I think it was my butt, managed to snap off one of my fins, so in Charlie and I went for a quick rest to try and fix things then return to the line-up which by now had become a bit more forgiving and was really really fun.  Well until I did an innocuous duck dive (diving under the wave as it breaks over you with your board pushed down and under in front of you) and some devilish watery vortex decided today was not going to be my day; ripped the board out of my hands and smashed its rail (outside edge) into my face just above the eye.*  OW, I said as I surfaced looking for, but not finding, stars in my eyes.  I instinctively put my hand to my face,  hang on, that doesn’t fell quite right; theres something loose, maybe I’ve got a leaf or some seaweed stuck in my hair.  I withdrew my hand and was slightly surprised to see a pale red wash running down my hand.  OH, how bad is this?  I returned my hand and managed to slide my fingers under the skin just above the eyebrow.  Not good, might be an understatement and waves were still crashing on me with the rock jetty not too far behind me.  It was then that I noticed that one of my front teeth was considerably sharper than normal. Time to make a bolt for the shore and really see how bad it was.

*It took us a while to work out that this was the cause because at the time I didn’t know what had happened.  It wasn’t until getting back to the car that we saw my board had a large dent similar size to my forehead that had cracked through the fibreglass on both sides of the rail.

On shore I got out Mikes phone and went to make a video call to see the damage.  ERM, I think is what first came to mind which was quickly followed by the horrible realisation I was going to have to prematurely end the best surf of Mike and Charlie’s life.

I asked Jorge if it really was that bad and he looked at me and didn’t really need to say much else, he just took a photo, I’m surprised he didn’t get the drone out again!  I signalled to the others and the session was over.  Back across the river, into the car and off we headed to Antigua.

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Aforementioned Jorge’s photo.

Wether it was luck or fate one will never know but it just so happened that in all of my travels through Central America surfing – mostly alone – this was the first time I had ever been with a local guide, with a car, who knew what and where to go and spoke fluent Spanish.  Even more fortunate was that his father in law was a very well respected doctor in Antigua.  To ‘cap’ things off Antigua turns out to be a dentist tourist destination for most Americans due to the quality and affordability of its services.

A phone call later and a drive back to Antigua I was being seen by Mario, Mike’s farther in law, who then got in his car and drove us to the hospital where he led us into the back to park the car in an ambulance bay and bypassed, to my guilt, the queue.  He then grabbed the best doctor, pointed in my direction and said ‘NO scars’ then disappeared.  Mike and I looked up at a poster showing surgeons round an operating table with Jesus looking down on the surgeons hand from the heavens above in the top right corner, unfortunately it was not lost on either of us that the logo in the opposing corner was that of Pfizer!

I was led to bed, and then what seemed like thirty stitches were put in my head.  It turns out only 5 visible stitches were put in the rest being sutures underneath the  skin.  I emerged forty minutes later to thankfully find Mike still patiently waiting and able to translate the drug prescription I had just been handed.  Straight back to the hostel for a beer and two tequila shots – I wasn’t going to be in the water for at least five days.

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Post op, beer and tequila shots – pre dentist.

Mike phoned up the next day and arranged an appointment with his dentist and $30 later I had a new tooth!  My thanks can’t go enough to Mike and his family for making what could have been a very difficult problem be seamless and got me sorted as quickly as possible.  I couldn’t help thinking as I went to sleep that night that if I had been in Nicaragua it would have been a fifty minute walk, difficult broken Spanish conversation to arrange a taxi then a hospital in Managua three hours away where I really don’t know what would have happened.

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Lago Atitlan looking towards Santiago and the Smokin’ God.

I couldn’t get wet so it was time to relax and so off I went to Lake Atitlan.  This is by far the most beautiful place I have visited in the whole of Central America.  I will simply let the photographs do the talking here.

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Lago Atitlan looking towards San Pedro.

A couple of days later and Mike was driving two Australians and Charlie on a little trip to El Salvador, OK I couldn’t surf for the first day or so but would I like to come – hell yeah!

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The crew (l-r): Mitch, Mike, Jack, me, Charlie

So here I find myself writing my last blog of Central America back in Las Flores with a thunderstorm raging overhead and massive waves shattering themselves against, up and over the side of Rancho Mama Cata, what better way to end what has been a journey of sun, sand, sea and now scars.

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Me at Las Flores once again. It felt good to be back in the water and this photo made my whole trip seem worthwhile.

Really looking forward to seeing you all soon.

Kinder

EPILOGUE

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The photo above was my final morning in El Salvador and at Las Flores.  Somewhat amazingly I managed to get barrelled, and make it out of the barrel!  Call it coincidence but when I returned to shore my best friend had also had a baby boy which kept me truly ‘amped’ – well until Charlie and I had to wait one and a half hours for a bus whilst entertaining a drunk at 0800.

In order of appearance thanks go to these new friends who made my trip so memorable:

Cristina, Stephen, Cory, Trevor, Krissy, Jessica, Ashleigh, James, Meghan, Flash, Miranda, Chrissy, Heather, Steph, Jessica, Carlo, Natalie, Dany, Michael, Tova, Ingrid, Timo, Damien, Marlissa, Anthony, Mark, Katherina,Vera, Nils, Kevin, Gnomo, Aude, Yonotan, Alexis, Sarah,  Alexa, Manuel, Jose, Matty, Abel, Eduardo, Ben, Dion, Gazza, Pedro, Alex, Rocio, Andy, William, Mike & Karen, Victoria, Ankit, Holy, Christien, Candy, Charlie, Dr Mario and the doctors at Antigua hospital A+E, Mitch, Jack, Darren, Mitch, Alexa, Cheryl, Karen, Giermo, and intense Eric.

I don’t think I missed anyone but I’m writing this list in Bogota airport on my second glass of wine, a very nice Chianti, waiting for a connection after a lay over and two previous flights being cancelled.  My bro jumped to the rescue and my plea to “get me home, somehow please, I can’t miss the Sunday roast you have planned”.  So Columbia airways, Avianca, here I come. (#neverflyfu<kingUnited)

LSC Surfy Bit

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overhead Punta Rocca (pre accident)

November is the best time to visit Guatemala with the surf picking up the same swells that hit all of Central America – it just magnifies it by a couple of feet or so.  Despite there only being beach, river mouths and Jetty’s, if you are in search of waves off the beaten track surf with no one in the line up, Guatemala is it.

If you really want to explore it properly, you will need a car and I would suggest a Spanish speaking guide, I may be biased but Mike is your man.  In fact even if you are thinking about going to Central America drop the almanac a line, I’m sure he would be happy to advise, offer discounts and plan your trip for you so long as he gets to ride along!

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The group scoring glassy, empty Punta Rocca while I took photos.

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On top of all of this the culture and natural beauty of this country is second to none and if there are any down days you are not short of options.

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Cheap post surf feed.

I visited the river mouth at Iztapa, for which there are no photographs due to the lengthy reasons and descriptions given above.  You need to surf this on an incoming tide and this wave is GOOD.  If you don’t believe me check out his video of the fateful day (I’m the one paddling out at the beginning without a rashy).  The forecast for this swell was 4-6ft at 19-20 second period.

We also went to El Paredon, which due to my stitches and the size of the swell we didn’t surf but it did remind me of France and with a little less swell one could certainly see this beach ‘do its thing’ up and down the coast.  Mike stated the best time to visit this beach is November, when the swell and winds are perfect as anything over 4ft here is very very difficult.  If you have yet to surf with dolphins and turtles, this may well be your place (beats seals, trust me).

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