I don´t even know where to begin so I´ll just spew...
The decision to turn around was a literal no brainer and I´ve yet to really think about it... but the surfing has been amazing.
After busting the 180 we beelined it back to Playa Venao, Panama where we surfed 4-5 hours a day for a week... scratching the itch. Not coincidentally, Venao also has the cheapest food and beer I´ve encountered on the trip... $.60 frosty bottles... $1.50 eggs and frybread breakfasts... and you can hang your hammock in the bar... plus,unlike Costa Rica, noone steals shit there... the highlight of the time was hanging and surfing with CHUKO, officially the 2nd best surfer in Panama but I saw number 1 and CHUKO has much better style... a solid dude and a new friend.
Thanks to a tip from Dank Dave we knew a big swell was enroute so we set off for Morro Negrito, a 24 hour sail closer to CR but still in Panama... there we discovered a "private surf island resort" folks drop big coin to stay at... thanks to the boat is was free.99.
There we met John from Huntington. a transplant building his own little cabina spot in Morro Negrito... population 7... he took us under his wing and aboard his panga for an exciting trip to town complete with a ride in a gigantic Panamanian Navy truck... and the next day, a tour of the area´s amazing surfspots.
The swell finally arrived and we could have gotten as nasty as we wanted to at P-LAND but opted for the saner but well overhead and heavy waves of LEFTOVERS. I got the ride of my life and can still conjure the image of dropping my first bomb and getting tubed... watching the reef slide by a few inches under the trough in front of me... and then getting utterly destroyed... magical.
Six smashings to the reef, countless to the beach, little infected nicks and scrapes to the feet, hands and knees, and a whole lot of stretching later, I can safely roll into a lineup and nab waves like I know what I´m doing.
Piece of cake... like anything else, pretend you can do it long enough, analyze the style of folks who can do it, and before you know it you´re doing it kind of thing.
I´m more scared of sharks than ever.
After a week in Morro Negrito we ran out of food so set sail back to Golfito, Costa Rica where we´re getting the boat dialed out for the next leg of the big surf trip. From here it´s back to Pavones and Cabo Matapalo... then Drake Bay, Dominical, Mal Pais, and points north.
Today we washed and disinfected the whole boat... and ripped out a wall which I shoulda removed a year ago... the boat is a bit bigger and much more comfortable now.
Thanks to all who´ve donated lately, especially Jiggabyte, Dank Dave, and Ben Nordog Norton from way back in the Cotter soccer days. Anyone on the fence should take the plunge... since I´m non-profit write that shit off!
I´m thinking of starting a surf guide company with the boat next summer... anyone who wants to be a guinea pig gets a hell of a discount if they come down now... same deal, food and gas money.
Tu Laki, God Bless Him, could probably use a break... personally, I can hardly believe he´s still putting up with me.
The dog is beyond fearless now... jumping in and swimming around at will... taking herself to shore for the morning poop... moseying back to the boat on her own when we paddle back from surfing... she´s become quite the little star.
As for me, with the dream of sailing way south on the backburner, life´s a decompression chamber at the moment. Getting into the whole tranquility (laziness) that seems to define the CRUISING LIFESTYLE. Maybe it´s the cush some Oregonians dropped on us but I can´t think or write for beans at present... so I´m out in the waves until I feel like saying something.
Much Love,
MAX
ps Thanks to the Canadian Noboarders from Calgary for these sweet pics of the Sin Fin... click the top one to spy me looking way too serious in silhouette. I still don´t have a camera.
pps A non-existent slow Bob Dylanesque cover of a punk song I haven´t heard since high school is stuck in my head and thus, in a song´s entirety, I present the Lyric of the Day...
Anti-Manifesto by PROPAGHANDI
Dance and laugh and play. Ignore the message we convey. It seems I´m only here to entertain.
A rebellion cut-to-fit. Well I refuse to be the soundtrack to it. While we entertain we're still knee-deep in shit.
Well there's something wrong inside. We've played it safe,enjoyed the ride. You won't like this but I've something to confide. We strive for something more than a faded sticker on a skateboard.
Rained on your parade and we're out the door. And I don't even care any fucking more...
Witness this pair in accomplice. Witness this pair... lethargic, unconscious. No brows furrowed in question, complacent, completing their tasks. No questions asked.
Consider this critic a cretin. Resting on laurels completely invented. Word acrobatics, performed with both harness and net.
I'm so full of SHIT.
But I will remain until this self-awareness fades. Til I defeat the purpose served by this soapbox that you made.
That you made.
Hope, perseverence: a vision (some doubt).
Green ink, a 26 oz., a bad case of big-mouth.
A sum of our parts and I've never laughed harder. A song in our hearts and I've never laughed harder. It don't really matter 'cuz nothing's ever felt as right as this. (by the way, I stole this riff)
Dance and laugh and play. Ignore the message we convey. It seems we´re only here to entertain.
A rebellion cut to fit. I refuse to be the soundtrack to it. We entertain we´re still knee deep in shit.
In shit.
And we´re so full of it.