Up early to go see our first active volcano.
Before leaving, Mike suggested he take our photo in front the mural of Augusta Sandino. Its one thing to read about the history of a country or to learn about it through our media, but it’s an entirely different matter to experience it.
Like some of you reading this, the extent of my knowledge of Nicaragua was what I heard on the news about the Contras and Sandinistas and Ollie North. I have to admit, I really didn’t understand it then. Between Mike, the hotel owner and Tom, the surf guide, I have an entirely new perspective…
Augusta Sandina was Nicaragua’s George Washington. He started as a petty criminal and was a strong nationalist. (Mike said something very interesting when he noticed a passing questioning look on the boy’s faces when he said “criminal”. He pointed out that if you were British, you might have thought of George Washington as a criminal. Good point.)
Samosa, the dictator at the time led a very corrupt government. All the wealth of the country was held by the Samosa family, their supporters and the military command. They had the best (and most) of the real estate and most of the wealth. There were only two classes in Nicaragua, the ultra-rich and the very poor. It was a also a brutal dictatorship, control and order were maintained but at a high cost to humans rights. Samosa controlled the military and the National Police. The military and police became the “enemy of the people” because of their tactics and killings.
Inevitably there was a popular uprising and they called on Sandina to lead it. Sandina’s followers were called the Sandinistas. (Throughout the country you see both Nicaraguan flags as well as the Sandinista black and red flag.) This popular uprising began to threaten the economic interests of the US (sugar, coffee and fruit plantations – think Dole pineapple). The Samosa regime also began talking up the “communist” threat. The US became involved and supported the dictatorship. They were called the Contras. For the first time now, I understand the difference between the Contras and the Sandinistas. It was the US financial and arms backing that prolonged the civil war. Remember Oliver North? The small airstrip where guns were transferred to the Contras occurred on a spit of Costa Rica land just across the Nicaraguan border that juts way out into the Pacific – visible from where we were surfing. It’s known as “Ollie’s Point”.
Sandina was invited to meet with Samosa to “talk over their differences” at one of the Samosa estates. It’s said he was shot during dinner and nobody knows what happened to the body. Story is, his body was thrown into Masaya, the active volcano. As Mike said, “there are a lot of bones down in that volcano”.
So how did the war end? I don’t remember this but apparently there was a CBS reporter reporting live from Managua when he was executed, while live on camera. That resulted in US population distaste for what was going on and then the eventual withdraw of US involvement. The civil war continued but without US support, the war ran out of money and both sides essentially got tired of warring. The Sandinistas obtained power and Samosa was exiled. Several years after his exile, a “RPG found his armored Mercedes in Paraguay”. Samosa property holdings were made available to the population and a middle class evolved. On the walk back to the hotel Mike told us that a son of Samosa’s stays at the hotel trying to get back some of the family’s properties from time to time.
Tom actually lived in SJDS during the war. Never saw it he said. Most of the fighting was in the mountains and he just stayed away from it.
We had breakfast and then joined Tom and his wife for the ride to see Masaya. Masaya is an active volcano, well not terribly active – its spews sulfur gasses and from time to time “spits” out “bombs”. Bombs are lava globs that are the size of a football or larger. The last eruption of Masaya was April 2001. Its one of the few active volcanoes you can drive to the crater rim. First a stop at the Visitors center.
The locals used to think there was a “hag” at the bottom and to appease her they sacrificed children and maidens to her from time to time. In the late 1500’s a Catholic Friar ordered a large cross be placed at the crater entrance to exorcise the devil from the mountain. The volcano was known then as the “Mouth of Hell”. Interestingly, the good Friar changed his tune later when rumor of gold down in the crater spread. He and another guy lowered themselves into the crater to look for gold but didn’t find any.
Now for the 10km drive to the rim armed with our “safety instructions”.
- You are advised to back into the parking space with the car pointing to the exit road
- In the event of “unadvised” bombs, seek shelter under you vehicle
- Do not remain at the crater for more than 20 minutes because the gasses are poisonous
Interestingly, there is a colony of green parrots that live and nest in the crater walls in spite of the poisonous sulfur gasses. Nobody really knows how they tolerate it, but they evolved to.
Having never seen an active volcano, I was expecting to peer down into a “pool” of lava or something. Not so much. The crater is absolutely huge – like the Grand Canyon – you can see pictures, but until you stand at the rim, you can’t appreciate the size and depth. It was basically a huge, steep jagged hole that ended in a terrace about 1,000 feet below the rim. The terrace ran a couple of hundred yards, perfectly flat and then disappeared into a hole that had no visible bottom. The hole was as big as a couple of city blocks. The sulfur gas cloud was streaming from this hole. The gas smelled exactly like the “fog” left after you ignite a bunch of fireworks.
With the thoughts of sacrificial maidens and children in my head, I’m wondering where exactly do you “throw them?”. It would really be more like throwing somebody off of a very steep and high cliff. Very painful. Samosa had a different spin. Many victims who needed to “disappear” where flown 20km south of Managua by helicopter and asked to “get out” while the helicopter hovered over the crater.
We hiked around the rim and up to the cross. The enormity and depth of the thing was amazing. We left and stopped by Cartena which is a huge crater lake. Again, the enormity of the lake. You stand at the rim, the crater lake is below and in the distance is Granada (the oldest colonial city in the Americas) on the shores of Lake Nicaragua. One more interesting thing – Granada was built by the Spaniards when they sailed up the San Juan River from the Atlantic. The river emptied into Lake Nicaragua and given the vastness of the lake, the Spaniards thought they had reached the Pacific Ocean. They settled there and built Granada thinking it was on the shores of the Pacific. Oh yeah, did you know Lake Nicaragua is one of the few lakes in the word that has a species of freshwater sharks that live in it?
A lady was walking by with a tray balanced on her head obviously selling something to eat. I had no idea and ordered “tres”. She set the tray down and went to town – fresh tortilla, a piece of that delicious local cheese, onion relish and sour cream. They were really good and a favorite of Austin’s.
We left Cartena and drove back to SJDS getting back about 115.
There was a “party” going on across the street in the town center next to the Catholic Church when we pulled up in front of the hotel. Folding chairs, music, food and dancing! We asked Tom what was going on. He said they have a party every month to celebrate the town’s old people. Got a picture and not sure if you can see, but there was some enviable salsa on the dance floor!
Quick change, Tony came by and we were on the boat heading south by 2pm.
The waves were absolutely their largest today - consistently 8-10 feet, with big sets rolling in fast and continuous. I swam in from the boat, too far. The big ones were building under the boat and I was about 30 feet in the absolute wrong spot. When faced with that situation, a massive wall of water building behind you, there is only one thing to do. Turn and paddle and hope your inexperience actually put you in a good spot and you get the ride of your life. Not this time. I was worked hard, very hard. I was so tumbled around underwater I didn’t which way was up. After finally getting my bearings underwater I tried to swim to the surface. The surface wasn’t there. I was completely out of air and had a wave of panic. I have never come that close to gasping for air under water which is generally a bad thing. The surface was about 3-4 feet higher than my senses told me and I was grateful to be on top. Not clear air because of all the foam and spraying water but air.
Got a couple of good rides in - very, very fast. On one ride, in about three feet of water I went over the top of a massive stingray. Don’t forget…shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. I eventually fought my way through the massive breakers on my long board and weakly paddled back to the boat. Today was the biggest surf of the week. If they were that big on our first day out, I don’t know that I would have gone back!
Alan and Austin surfed and had some incredible rides. I saw Alan ripping down a right break (it all happened in front of me as I trying to get through the “kill zone”). Alan was on the face of the wave, not the flat, about 2-3 feet up and there was easily another 2-3 feet of water over his head. Alan is six foot tall.
Austin caught one that I felt move under the boat. I saw his head from the back side of the wave and he was screaming down a left break. He disappeared and then suddenly a body shot out of the surf. Now at this point, I’m easily a 100 of yards away, and he was thrown what appeared to be very high from that distance. He later said the leash yanked him back down otherwise who knows how high he might have gone! That leash held and we only broke one leash on the trip.
The guys paddled back in spent and we headed back.
Austin declared today the best hour of his life!
We returned to the hotel and talked to the night guy there about where to find the community sports center. I just read that Friday night is when the kids play soccer. We brought a bunch of jerseys, shorts, socks and referee gear for the kids from the states. He made a call down to the “field” to his friend that organized the league. He drove to the hotel, we grabbed the stuff, jumped in the back of his truck and drove to the “field”. The field was actually a cement playground. We left the stuff there for them to distribute and watched the game for awhile.
Asked the boys where there favorite meal of the week so far had been. It was unanimous – Maurisio’s. So back again we went. Finished dinner, ordered a pizza for the guys back at the hotel and hung out at the Iguana and Marie’s. Packed and turned in for a 3am wake up. We need to leave for the airport at 4am tomorrow.