Letters From Nicaragua: Part 12 - We Finally See Why We Are Here

As you may notice from the map, the place we stayed wasn't exactly ON the beach, nor is there a road to the beach on the map, but there is something, something that really likes a 4x4 vehicle and it was our first trip to go surfing that I figured out why Sam had me get a truck. The guys all piled into the truck with the boards back in the bed and we headed up the hill to find the beach....two wrong turns later, we finally found the cove where the epic surf was supposed to be. I know, how can you get lost on a dirt road that close to the beach? All I can say is that I was damn glad to have four wheel drive.

First thing I saw on the way, was a couple of surf shops. I'm using the term loosely here, because most of you are thinking of Ron Jon's or some place that sells towels and boogie boards to tourists. I think these places sold shots of whiskey and beat up old surfboards. I didn't see any windows, doors or customers, perhaps a dark skinned guy or two giving us the thumb and little finger wiggle all surfers use to say Hi. It never even occurred to me to think about going in and looking for a t-shirt to take home.

When we finally got to the beach itself, I was initially surprised at how small the area was, but the place had everything, sketchy places to eat (or more likely, get tequila shots), rocks, bone crushing waves, and even girls.

A little side note here, I have seen on surfing forums that surfer dudes worry a little bit about not finding girls while on vacation in Nicaragua. From what I saw, they will find them out there in the lineup. Just about everybody that I saw surfing was better than I am, but there were a folks here and there that decided they always wanted to try surfing. I can still remember one young woman taking a surf lesson from a local guy that looked like some kind of romance book cover dude, and that girl looked like she was having the best day of her life....not comprehending that death waves were only a couple of hundred feet further outside. Amazingly to me, was while seeing all of these brave women walking around in bikinis, I was looking around for some bad guy to konk me on my head for my camera. I recall one young well-endowed Latin lady coming in from her surf lesson and casually changing from a one-piece to a bikini in front of about fifteen drooling guys that I wouldn't trust with my worst enemy's daughter. The whole time she was pulling bra strings this way and that, she was taking selfie's with the other hand. The sight was almost as incredible as the waves.

I actually did paddle out there, even knowing the back of my mind that this wasn't the best place I ever thought of taking a paddleboard to. And I was promptly rewarded for my trouble with  a quick beatdown...the Pacific Ocean was letting me know that the Atlantic was a little wussy compared to what I was in for here.

A little note about surfing in Nicaragua: If you are from Florida, and you've surfed eight foot waves, you have done something pretty difficult. In Florida, if the waves are big, then they are coming in pretty close together and you have to paddle like crazy to even get past the break and into the lineup. There have been many hurricane days when I got what we call "denied", meaning I went home with my tail between my legs, never even making it outside. The good news is that if you did make it out, you probably had what it takes to ride those waves..The Pacific, on the other hand is a whole different animal.

Waves come traveling long distances and there are very long lulls between the waves. It is possible for a rank beginner to find themselves in the lineup when a 15 foot cleanup set rolls through. And, that is pretty much how I felt at Maderas. The waves weren't all that big, and I got through the shorepound easy enough, my brain was still on Florida and when I saw a nice headhigh wave present it's shoulder to me, it was like a video game...I couldn't miss. Two strokes and I was on...the only thing I had not prepared for was how fast the wave was, how quickly it went from nice little shoulder to giant closeout wall. And, of course, I ignored Sam's rule: never take the first wave of a set...because the rest of the set will catch you in the impact zone...and that is how I got introduced to "why we don't ride paddleboards here".