hawkeye Sports and Entertainment

Transportation

We were out of the hotel at 4am this morning.  Tony was waiting out front; Mike had made us each a breakfast burrito for the ride.  Said our good byes, loaded up the Land Rover and began the drive. 

You have to be very, very careful driving at night on the Pan American highway.  Sure it’s a highway.  But not like we think of them – for cars, busses, trucks and motorcycles.  Yep, it has all of those and…hose drawn carriages, people on bicycles, people walking, people pulling wheeled carts behind them and ox pulled wagons.  Horses and cattle graze on the shoulders.  All of this in the hour before sunrise.  Imagine a two lane road, in the dark with an 18 wheeler coming at you with its brights on, on the left shoulder is a horse grazing, on the right shoulder are two guys on bicycles, and an ox drawn cart ahead of them partially in your lane, and no, no reflectors or lights on anybody.  Yep, interesting.  It did get easier when the sun rose. One quick traffic stop and we entered the city. 

Yikes!  The traffic volume, cars, chicken busses, trucks, horse riders, ox drawn carts, pull carts, people.  Absolutely fascinating.

So, what’s a chicken bus?  It’s an school bus with the usual door in the front as well as a side door in the back in addition to the rear emergency exit, which is a third “working door”.  They get the name because you can transport anything you can get on them, including chickens!  They are the cheapest and truly are mass transit making many stops. You can bring as much of anything you can fit on or in the bus.  The roofs are full of stuff and the insides are jammed with people.  There is a crazy guy driving and a second “packer” that makes sure people get in the bus quickly.  He rides on the outside of the bus and hops off to help “pack” people in.  The busses are decorated with paintings and streamers.  They are always adorned with the Catholic icons and images of the Virgin Mary or Jesus.

The drivers race from stop to stop, yanking the busses around slower moving vehicles or ox like they were handling a sports car.  We even saw one slowing for passengers and a second chicken bus behind him passed him on the right while one went by on the left.  At that moment there were three busses across a two lane road!  Even Tony remarked, “loco!”.

As we neared the airport we hit a traffic circle that was insane. Three massive busses stopped on the side and people were streaming from them stopping traffic.  The traffic just kept inching there way into and through the crowd.  Tony was doing the same thing.  It was a massive game of chicken between drivers, scooters and walkers.  Finally a woman halted and Tony moved through.  It’s funny though, nobody gets angry at the driver nor do the drivers get angry.  It’s just how it’s done.  The horn is simply a warning or a “what’s up” device.  Not a tool of aggression as we know it.

We made it to the airport and we said good bye to Tony and thanked him profusely for an experience of a lifetime!

Sandinistas, Volcanoes, Celebrating Old People, Monster Surf and Kid’s Soccer

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”. 

1. You are advised to back into the parking space with the car pointing to the exit road
2. In the event of “unadvised” bombs, seek shelter under you vehicle
3. 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.

Bendito

The sun rises here between 500-530 in the morning.  The streets are alive by 630-700.  Its 700 now and the children are on their way to school.  They wear white shirts/blouses and dark blue pants/skirts.  They all carry a backpack.  The uniforms were the same in Costa Rica.  In the midst of the “poverty” (as we think of it) the children are dressed like they are going to Catholic school.  It’s so cute to see them going to school – walking in groups, walking with Mom or Dad, riding on a motorbike behind Mom/Dad or on the back of a bicycle.  The best?  A little girl walking up the street, so natural and unassuming in her uniform, and yet, sporting a bright pink Brittany Spears back pack.  American culture can be a very, very frightening thing.

We ate breakfast and I headed to an ATM to get cash.  Saw a man wearing a Kiawah Island t-shirt.  Had to stop and ask if they were from South or North Carolina.  They actually lived an hour north of Managua and thought Kiawah was in Hawaii.  He was originally from Seattle and moved here several years ago.  He was in SJDS with a couple that had come to visit them from the States and were taking them to the beach for the day.  He and his wife came to Nicaragua on a mission trip with their church years ago, it changed their lives he explained.  They both quit their jobs, sold their house and moved here.  They work with children in the area and help/host other Methodist mission trip groups.

When I returned from the ATM, Tony, Wielan (sp?) were waiting and the truck was loaded.  Back to the marina and out to visit Playa Hermosa (which by the way, means beautiful or lovely in Spanish).  As the tide was rising the surf was big and steep.  Alan got barreled twice.  The guys came back to the boat and rested for awhile.  The tide was up and the waves were “rolling in” better.  I joined them this time.  I was the fortunate recipient of several good rides into the beach. 

It’s a very interesting “balance” question – long boarding.  The thrill of catching the wave and riding for a long time, into the beach is incredible.  But then you turn around and have to get back out there which is a lot work.  It’s like downhill skiing except there is no chairlift at the bottom.  You have to walk back up the mountain.  Wouldn’t it be great if there was equivalent in surfing?  A chairlift kind of thing than carries you to the other side of the breakers?

Anyway, on one of my rides in, I “parked” the board and did my beach walk to look for shells or whatever may have been “left” for me to find.  I carried the board up to the top of the beach and placed it under one of those trees I described earlier that form semi-private little cabanas.  Started walking low on the beach and found green shells this morning.  Pink one day, purple the next and today was green.  Wondered aimlessly for about 20 minutes and drifted into the high sand that is like powdered sugar.  What happened next makes me want to buy a lottery ticket.

Remember the watch of 10+ years ago that was ripped off my arm in the surf on Monday morning?  I swear, I saw something glint; only about a half inch of something glassy and black was visible in the sand.  Unbelievable, it was my watch!  I lost it about 50 yards off shore in heavy surf on Monday.  Here I am, three days later, about 30 yards up on the beach and I find the watch buried in sand.  What were the chances I would ride into that part of the beach walk in that direction and on that part of the beach?  Two feet to the right or two feet to the left and I would have never seen it.  I’m wearing it now.  Need to buy lottery tickets…

Finished surfing and trolled for tuna on the way in and caught just one today.  Unpacked the boat, loaded Tony’s Land Rover and headed back to the hotel.  Now for one of my favorite things to do – explore the town.  Earlier that morning, before leaving to surf, I was walking around town and found a little house with recycled, brightly painted coke bottles of various shapes and sizes arranged in hanging sculpture in the trees.  Very colorful and can only be described as a “fiesta of piñatas” hanging from the trees in the yard.  I happened to have my backpack with me and in it was the Panthers visor I have been wearing the whole trip.

I wanted to show the boys the house and hanging sculpture so we walked up the road to where the house was located.  In front of the house, there was a street soccer game going on.  Alan noticed one of the guys wearing a Kerry Collins Panther’s jersey.  What are the odds of seeing that?  The answer was obvious, I reached into the back pack, pulled out the Panther’s visor and gave it to him.  Now we have a Panther’s fan in SJDS.

Alan and I walked to the t-shirt shop owned by Kathy.  Kathy is the woman I also encountered running on the beach with her four dogs and parrot a couple of days ago.  In Kathy’s arm was the cutest little puppy.  She just “adopted” him.  She named him “Bendito” which means lucky in Spanish.  Bendito’s prior “owner”, a “compasino” from the hills above town carried him into town in a rice bag.  Bendito was born without a left front leg, and if Kathy wouldn’t take him, he was going to kill him.  Now Kathy has a three legged dog named Bendito!

Went to Maries for a couple of drinks while the boys did some purchasing from the beachfront guys with their tables of jewelry.  From here it was dinner at il Calibri – easiest the best meal so far.  Tomorrow morning is an early morning for us.  We are on a mission – to see an active volcano before surfing tomorrow morning.

Boat full of surf boards, kill-box full of fish and the Nahuatl

Austin wasn’t feeling too well this morning but is fine now.  He missed breakfast, but did make it to the truck in time for the ride to the marina.  On the boat around 10 this morning and back out to Playa Hermosa, this time to the not yet visited north end.  Another good day with “playful” waves as Alan described them.  I asked him what he meant by playful.  He explained that they were waves when you weren’t thinking “how can I ever get back to the boat” or “when am I going to get to the breathe again”.  I get that.  Yes, playful described the surf today. 

The boys rip on each other so bad – much I can’t write, but they crack me up in the water.  The other day, Alan found himself in the “kill zone” when the big set rolled in.  Austin said it was like Poseidon was stomping him down every time he came out of the water to get a breathe.  Austin spent a lot time stomping his foot last night like he was stomping on an ant – simulating Poseidon stomping on Alan.  Very, very funny.  You should have seen what they had in store for me as I let, what they thought, was a perfect wave, roll under me (truth is, it was, I just didn’t see it!).

We were in the water for about two hours and I caught a good wave and rode it into the beach.  Perfect time to “park” the board and explore the beach.  While exploring, I was doing my usual periodic head count – one, two, three (Wieland was in the water with us, our first mate – Cesar is the Captain) and I noticed rooster tails from the boat.  Cesar had pulled up anchor and was taking off.  I have to admit, it was a little disconcerting to see the boat high tail it out of there over the horizon.  Went through a lot of different scenarios and concluded that the worst case wasn’t really that bad.  We surfed for an hour more and eventually Cesar came back.  No idea where he went.

Chilled on the boat for awhile, surfed a while, came back and ate lunch.  During lunch saw what looked to be two fins swimming side-by-side near the boat – like synchronized swimmers.  It was actually a ray on the surface with its wingtips turned up and out of the water about 4-6 inches – like the wingtips on a jetliner.  I was back in the water and one was swimming about ten feet away from me - I’m guessing about 24 inches across.  Later, back on the boat, Alan described the stingrays as the “land mines of the ocean” and “plankton as the mosquitoes”.

I returned to the boat and Cesar was still out surfing.  When he came back we packed up the boards and thought we were heading back.  Cesar turned south (back would be north).  I thought he was taking us to another break and was thinking “no way, we’re spent”.  Then he suddenly raced directly west out to sea.  We were going toward the end of the shelf for about 10 minutes when we saw the flocks of birds over the ocean.  Then I heard “fish on”.  Cesar went and checked out the schools of Yellow Fin tuna killing the minnows out at sea while we were surfing.  The tuna were getting the minnows from below and the birds from above and Cesar was trolling through the flock of birds.  We hooked several tuna and landed two.  The tackle he was using made for a great fight!  As soon as we were on them, they disappeared.

With two in the box we headed back to SJDS.

We walked town and learned some interesting things about Nicaragua and the cultural history of the country tonight.  The Nicaraguans, long before geopolitical boundaries were drawn were part of the Mayans.  As the Mayans grew, and grew more focused on warring and hostility, there was a split.  One split was a more peaceful faction led by a woman.  She had a vision to lead her group south from Mexico until they came upon a great lake with an island in the middle with two mountains.  The Lake is Lake Nicaragua (as large as Lake Erie) and the island is Ometepe with two volcanoes on it - one hour from where we are now. The name of the tribe is the Nahuatl.  That is why, as it was explained to us, the people of Nicaragua are so friendly and peaceful. 

I swear, every day has its treasure for you to discover if you look for it.  Very cool story I think.

Chicken Momma!

The Flying Docs arrived last night at the hotel from Alberta, Canada and just left for the countryside.  Good to know there is medical assistance should it be needed!

Ran to the Christ statue on the top of the mountain overlooking the harbor.  Was running on the beach and met Kathy again.  Kathy owns the t-shirt shop and is from Newport Beach, CA.  She was running with her four dogs, and get this, a parrot perched (maybe it was a cockatiel) on her left hand.  I had to stop and ask (and get a photo too).  She explained she has been running with her bird perched on her hand for 12 years.  You have to love it. 

Made it up the Christ Statue (think Rio, just not out stretched hands) overlooking the bay.  Encountered the locked gate and was in the process of “hopping the fence” when the dog started barking.  She was barking from atop the platform down at me and I quickly figured I wasn’t about to “sweet girl” her and win her over.  Oh well, I got within 25 feet of the absolute top!

Came back and rousted the boys from bed for breakfast before we went out surfing again today.  We had the best breakfast this morning.  A local fried cheese, fried plantains, eggs, tortillas and rice & beans.  The cheese was so incredibly tangy and balanced by the sweet fried banana…the best.  Mike called it “typico” – sampling of the typical Nicaraguan breakfast.

Tony picked us up at the hotel and we left for the marina.  The marina is an interesting story.  I can’t figure out why the security there is so “high” but more about that in a minute. 

The port was built by the Japanese (Shimatsu Corporation) along with a hospital somewhere toward Managua. The local garbage trucks and some of the municipal vehicles have Japanese flags on them.  Turns out, the Japanese fishing fleet “purchased rights” to fish off of Nicaragua about ten years ago.  There is an odd tension here and the words “raped the ocean” and “they took everything, even minnows” come up a lot.  The fleet apparently “swept” the Pacific Ocean out to the end of the shelf – 25 miles.  The fishing and the sport fishing community is just now beginning to recover.  I guess the local port was part of the re-payment.

Every morning Tom has to leave his passport at the fenced gate where a security officer exits the gate house and meets him and then opens the gate for us to enter.  By the dock, where we meet the boat there are at least two more security officers and one to two guys dressed in blue/brown camo paramilitary suits with side arms and dark sunglasses.  They see us off in the morning and are always there to greet us when we return.  Not friendly guys.

We went to Playa Yankee this morning and no action.  Pulled up anchor and went back to Playa Hermosa.  Smaller today and absolutely perfect for me on a long board.  Many great rides in, long rides, all the way into shore and stepping off into a foot of water.  The only problem with those rides is, you have to paddle all the way back out!  On my third or fourth ride in, I actually startled a stingray in about two feet of water and he/she flopped over the nose of the board.  The water is so clear and when you’re riding in, it’s like flying over the bottom of the ocean, it’s so clear and you’re going so fast over the bottom.  What the heck, I’m already here, so time for a long walk on the beach and rest up right?  Today’s surprise? 

Well actually it was on the steps leading up to the Christ Statue this morning- a beautiful, brilliant orange and purple female fiddler crab. She finally let me photograph here.  Very, very colorful.

On the beach today I found purple butterfly winged bivalves.  Pink two days ago, purple today.  At the “top” of the sand, as it transitions into the dry jungle, are these incredible trees that grow to the ground, yet you can walk “into them” – under the network of branches.  They are like little private rooms on the beach, shaded, yet letting in the most incredible light with spectacular views out to the Pacific.  Private, but completely open – like a natural cabana.

We surfed for another couple of hours and then came to the boat to eat lunch.  Mike made killer tortillas - chicken salad with pistachio nuts and apples.  As we were finishing lunch, a rain squall blew in over the mountains and soaked us on the boat in spite of the bimini and make shift shelter built with board covers.  It passed in about 20 minutes, freezing cold during the douse and then the sun was back out.

How cool is this?  The Catholic Church in the Town Square is celebrating mass and broadcasting on loudspeakers throughout the square.  Very, very cool. 

Boys are “power-napping” and I’m on the front porch of Hotel Isabella writing and enjoying a rones and coke.  The rum, Flora de Cana is excellent and quite cheap.  Cheaper than the Coke actually!

Dinner tonight?  Chicken Momma.  On the west side of the town square.  She was barbecuing in the street.  The little boy in the picture said she was Numero Uno, come back in 20 minutes.  We walked around town and then went back.  Our Spanish was awful, but with the help of one the hotel guys who happened to be in there, we ordered: beef, rice & beans, fresh tortillas, fried plantains and some kind of chili cole slaw – one of the best meals ever – we ate in the front of her house.  Very, very cool with an almost full moon rising over the church.

After dinner we walked to the beach and encountered a baseball game on the sidewalk with these little guys throwing a wad of paper as their baseball.  Baseball is a religion here we were told.  They were so cute and so happy!

Playa Hermosa, Sting Rays and Town

We ended up walking down to the beach and found a restaurant with a generator last night.  It was really interesting, it seemed like everybody just migrated from their houses to the street.  Groups of people, pulled chairs into the street and the children played.  SJDS really is “like Costa Rica was 30 years ago”.

Tide is low so going out at 9 this morning.  It’s time to go explore town some more.  When have you ever seen milk in cans and 5 gallon buckets being delivered by horse?  This really is an absolutely amazing place!

Tom met us at 9 and we headed to the marina.  The boys asked him about the stingrays that always seem to be leaping from the water.  Tom reminded us to be sure to shuffle your feet when walking because you can’t see them.  If you get stung by one, the only thing you can do is tough it out and get through it.  “It will burn like hell” he said.  “When you think it can’t possibly burn anymore, it will get hotter”.  All you can do is rub it with sand and let it run its course.

Pretty tired and sore this morning.  The waves are getting bigger and are growing day by day.  Could it be the approaching full moon on August 5th?   

Out on the porch of the hotel now and a loudspeaker pick-up truck is passing by.  A Toyota pick-up truck with loud speakers mounted on the roof driving up and down the streets playing an undertone of music while somebody is saying something through the loudspeakers mounted on the roof.  Might be an advertisement (maybe for Gaby’s laundry service and massage parlor which I found this morning) or might be political – not sure.  My Spanish is really bad. 

OK, back to today.  Went back to Playa Hermosa and surfed to about four o’clock after a nice lunch, multiple cervezas and nap break on the boat.  Remember the “hammer” sets I mentioned earlier?  Well, they were even bigger today.  If you were in (on the shore side of the breakers), you simply had to wait them out.  Only one word describes trying to get through them with a long board - Violence.  The only word can be violence. Got rolled under one today and it tore my watch of 10+ years off my arm.  If you waited them out, then you could paddle out.  The other thing that was interesting is there seemed to be a second wave that would consistently pass as you were under the first.  When you came up from below, you would surface in the second “foam” swell which often left you sputtering.

At one point, I got a great ride on the long board (tried a shorter board earlier today, and had nothing.  Yep, I’m much more comfortable on a long board.  I’m riding a 9’0” and the boys are riding 6”2” and 7’6”).  At the end of that ride, I stepped off in about two feet of water.  Good time for a walk on the beach (and a rest).

Today’s gift on the beach?  A purple, orange shell with calcified spikes on the edges of the bivalve shell.  I put the shell in my pocket and started heading back to the boat.  Shuffling my feet as I entered the water and there they were.  Literally, a “flock” of sting rays. Seriously, I was in a foot of water and at least 12 came out of the sand and “flew” by my legs on both the right and left side.  They were 12-18 inches across (not Steve Irwin size) and were beautiful flying by like a flock of birds underwater.  Lesson?  Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle!

Got back to the hotel, relaxed and then we walked around town again tonight.  Stopped at Nica Designs and talked to the shop owner who recommended Maurisio’s for dinner.  He is from Italy and makes incredible pizza and pasta just past the Chicken Momma’s house, she told us.  Before that we stopped at “The Pier”, a beach bar, not a real pier, to watch the sunset.  Once the sun set they started a bonfire on the beach.  Very cool with the sun setting behind you to the west, bonfire on the beach and the full moon rising just above the palm trees in the east.  Walked back to the hotel, talked with Tom (surf guide) and Mike (hotel owner) for a bit and then off to Maurisio’s.   The food was great, incredibly simple, fresh and even made more enjoyable sitting in the street under the nearly full moon. 

It’s hard to explain, but the simple-ness of everything here, the lack of all the things we take for granted, is so incredibly refreshing.

Playa Hermosa

Up at 6am, met the owner of the hotel, Mike, former Army, been in Nicaragua 10 years.  Very, very nice guy.  His hotel is really, really nice.  They serve a fantastic breakfast and then Tom showed up at 7am.  Tom drove to the marina where we were met by Cesar and Tony in the boat.  We transferred the boards from Tom’s truck to the boat and headed out of the harbor into the Pacific where we headed south to Playa Hermosa.   

About 30 minutes south, Cesar anchored just outside the swells coming into Hermosa and we went in.  The most immediate thing you notice is the incredible wind coming offshore powered by Lake Nicaragua!  I am used to seeing whitecaps typically blowing toward shore.  The off shore wind creates white caps blowing backwards.  The wind not only stands the waves up, it rips the top off of them.  When you are behind one you get hit with the spray coming off the top – it’s like an incredible, drenching shower – amazing. 

As I am typing this the power just went out in town.  Hotel generator is providing power now. 

We were in the water at 8am.  After a couple of long rides, I went ashore while Alan and Austin stayed out.  The beach is absolutely deserted.  If you were ever on “America’s Most Wanted”, this might be the place to go (just saying).  Only five boats went by all morning and nobody else in the surf! 

I have this thing about the beach and walking on the beach.  I swear, the ocean leaves something, something special for you, something for only you to find.  Today?  It was a beautiful pink shell sitting on a dark beach.  It looked like a pink butterfly on the sand.  Also found a sand dollar that was at least eight inches in diameter – never seen one that large.

The waves were incredible ranging from 6-8 feet.  About every 15 minutes, a huge set would roll in.  In between, the large sets, you would find yourself being lured closer to shore to ride the “regular” set.  Then you would turn and see the big guys rolling in and, if you were in too far, got hammered.  Alan’s fin cut his foot (the blood kept the sharks away from me and Austin!) and I got “wash-machined” and somewhere in there, my board hit me in the forehead (clod). 

We surfed there for about 3-4 hours, had lunch on the boat, surfed a couple more hours.  We were spent.  We packed up and headed further south to Playa Yankee where the waves were faster and steeper.  One look and we declared “finito” for the day.  No sense killing ourselves the first day. 

Came back to the hotel, de-salted and explored the town.  Now ready to go eat dinner, but, alas, the town is without power, so who knows…

Managua Bound

Flew from Charlotte to Atlanta today and caught our flight to Managua, Nicaragua.  At the other end of this flight, we are to be “met” in Managua.  Really not much more info than that.  When they closed the door of the plane and backed from the jet way, I told the boys, “ we have no Plan B”.  The flight to Managua took an hour longer than anticipated because we had to “pick” through storms twice, once over Cuba and again over the Gulf of Mexico.

We landed in Managua, went through Immigration and Customs and then out of the airport looking for a sign with our name on it or Quicksilver.  Nothing.  Then a guy approached us and asked if we were the father and sons there to surf?  Turns out it was Tom Eberly, owner of Nica Surf and his wife Erma – they had less information than we did. 

We threw the bags in the back of Tom’s truck, piled in the back and began the two hour drive to San Juan del Sur (SJDS).  It was dark and you couldn’t see anything.  Drove about an hour and encountered our first police check point.  Apparently just a routine check, documents checked and waved through.  It was the second police stop that got more interesting.

First the heat shield.  After the first stop, we hit a rough patch of road and a rattle started under the truck.  By the way, the roads in Nicaragua are not bad – much better than Costa Rica.  We pulled over, Alan got under the truck with a flashlight and discovered the heat shield over the muffler was lose and was rattling against the muffler.  Alan removed the heat shield, put it in the back of the truck and we were back on our way. 

We hit the town of Rivas, Tom and Erma pointed out the transvestites that congregate on one corner in particular on Saturday nights (looking to make some money from the passing truckers) when a “Policia” appeared in front of the truck with his lime green reflective vest and orange cone on his flashlight.  Tom pulled over, talked in Spanish and said “no problem” to the policeman.  We assumed he wanted to check  our bags in the back.  He climbed in the back and a woman jumped in with him (she wasn’t wearing the green reflective vest).  We started off again, Tom said he said something about an accident in SJDS and needed a ride – but that didn’t explain the woman – it didn’t need to.  Tom said to look back from time to time and make sure they weren’t going through our bags.

Drove about 30 minutes, dropped the policeman and his friend along the road, no sign of an accident.  We arrived at the hotel around midnight, checked in, couple of cervesas from the honor bar and crashed.  Tom said he would be by at 7am to take us to the boat for our first day of surfing.

Transition Training and Now Transitioning Into Surf Mode

Transition training last night was really, really interesting (transitions from swim-to-bike (T1) and then bike-to-run (T2)). Big difference practicing transitions versus reading about it or watching them on YouTube.  Like everything else, you need to do it to see how it feels. 

Biggest thing I learned?  I have to get elastic laces for my running shoes so I can slip into them after getting out of the bike shoes and head out for the run.  I was neck and neck with guys in the group until it cam to putting on my running shoes.  I was lacing up my first shoe when I saw Brad and Steve heading out (yep, they have elastic laces)!  Tying your shoes takes a (relatively) long time!  Other than shoe laces, I think the key is laying out your stuff in the right order and doing it methodically – not rush.  In the end, “slow and steady” seemed to work fastest for me.

The surf trip to Nicaragua is fast approaching.  We leave this Saturday and tonight is “packing night” – not that there really is that much you have to pack for a surf trip! I sure hope this triathlon swimming improves my paddling ability…

Second Open Swim

This morning was my second open water swim at Lake Norman. Got back from Denver seven hours earlier and was in the car driving to the Lake Norman Y at 6am this morning.  Its early, but don’t you just love knowing that you’ll be done with a great workout before a lot people are even up?  Plus, you get to enjoy the sunrise.  Speaking of the sunrise, there’s a great line from a Sister Hazel song, “I like to fantasize and watch the sunrise like’s it’s a big surprise” – love that line!

Anyway, I was number 46 this morning – they write the number on your hand (one guy in line said, “I love the smell of Sharpie in the morning!”).  They check your number when you come out of the water to make sure you’re not resting on the bottom somewhere.  When you start, the lifeguard instructs you that you must have your number recorded coming out of the water or “they will scare the hell out of your emergency contact”…  The pictures are the point where people come out of the water.  You can see someone coming out in the first photo.  Not every one makes it though; see the yellow cap in the back of the lifeguard boat in the second picture?

Again, to my swimming friends, it does get better.  I am getting more comfortable and can relax more in the open water.  The “freak out” urge was largely absent compared to the first swim and I only did three “breast stroke – need oxygen” sessions.  What was really interesting though was “spotting”.  Spotting is when you spot the next buoy and swim in a line to it.  Sounds easy but in the open water its easy to zigzag and you cover a lot more territory than you bargained for (that’s how I play golf by the way – zigzag from one side of the fairway to the other, rarely more than 100 yards per zig).  Anyway, they tell you to spot something high and swim to it.  I found myself trying to spot the buoys. The buoys were hard to see so low in the water.  It wasn’t until the last leg where the rising sun forced me to use the tops of trees on the shore to spot.  That made a huge difference and kept me much straighter at the end.

Finished the swim and rode the bike course.  It’s a pretty hilly course, especially at the end.  There is one pretty good grade, it levels off and just as soon as you start to feel like you can “recover” there’s a second hill looming in front of you, not terribly steep, just long.  I found my internal voice telling me to man-up and not be such a baby about the effort.  I overheard someone talking about today’s stage of the Tour de France.  Its 100+ miles with the last 13 miles uphill with an average grade of 7%!  I never could appreciate that before, and I barely can now, but that’s freaking insane!  Can you imagine?  Thought about that on the second hill and it didn’t seem so bad anymore!

Mark, PT/Trainer, said I could start run/walking again if I promise not to try to “run through the pain” and not do more than two miles.  That’s great news!…I was going to do that this afternoon and take the dogs but was interrupted a moment ago by a neighbor who called and said two of my three beagles were just seen running up the street. We have three rescue beagles, one, Bennie (who has all sorts of issues from being shot by his last owner and then run over by a car – stayed behind – he’s blind and can’t run anyway, he was the good one) staid behind.  The other two took off through the left open gate and took themselves for a walk.  Jumped in the car and collected them about a half mile away on our usual route.  So they already had their walks. Maybe go this afternoon with my wife.

Greg Osenga