Dog Tales: El Salvador and Nicaragua.

[vc_row][vc_column][norebro_text]During a trip through Central America chasing waves dragging my board through all kinds of weird and wonderful places I found myself in El Salvador.

The waves were fun for a softie, the locals not so soft.

I made an enemy on my first session simply by being out there, he owned a shop on the Main Street which he would sit out the front most days when he wasn’t surfing and yell shit out to me in Spanish at me for the whole week I was there.

Feeling like I was still a bit too much on the tourist trail and looking for a bit more adventure, feeling way too cocky with little to no Spanish, I decided to hitchhike the next little section towards Nicaragua.

While waiting for a ride from my first spot I ended up chatting to a local guy who spoke really good English, I soon asked him why he spoke such good English to which he responded that he helps people jump the border into the USA from Mexico.

So a human trafficker basically..

We chatted for a while as he told me how there’s a good spot in Texas that he’s trafficked people through at least 20 times. I was pretty shocked how normal this guy seemed to be.

Soon after I caught a ride on the back of a Ute to a place called La Union, it was a small fishing town and I had the idea that it would be cool to cross the border into Nicaragua by hitching a ride on a fishing boat.

So that’s what I did.

The lady who owned a seafood company told me she’d let me get a ride, stay at her house on an island overnight and then head to Nicaragua in the morning. As I got onto the boat and watched about 5 others leave, the lady who I spoke to wasn’t on the boat.

All I could think about was the sketchy trafficker I was speaking to earlier that day. So I was a bit uneasy about the whole thing and now it being night time, it made it a bit sketchier.

As the boat came into open water I was instructed under a tarp to keep me dry from the waves washing over the boat. I peaked out briefly to see what was going on and in the distance I could see a volcano spewing out lava. It was a pretty wild scene.

Eventually the boat arrived at the seafood ladies house. I spent the night sleeping in a hammock. The next morning was an early start to Nicaragua. I arrived to perfect waves for the entire week following.

Good swell and perfect banks.

The town I stayed at in the north was pretty deserted like a lot of places in Nicaragua because of the civil unrest in the country over the past few years. But that meant uncrowded set ups.

My goal when arriving was to settle in for a couple weeks, lay off the partying for a bit and just surf every day. So that’s what I did. My place was a 10 minute mozzie infested, stray dog ridden walk through the bush to arguably one of the funnest boogin’ waves in Central America.

Each day would go mostly the same as the last, wake up, dirt cheap brekky, surf for most of the day then have a beer and fall asleep in a hammock.
The first week was heavy 4 foot a-frames along a 500m stretch of the beach.

The wave comes in and hits a super shelfy sand bank and just heaves and bowls out at the end.

Surfers were struggling to make the drop so I was cleaning up on waves.

The next week I just rented a soft top and had the sickest time messing around in little 1-2 foot runners at the same spot.

Despite not really being the season for the pacific coast of Central America it was lucky I got the swells that I did.


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