Head South, Young Man

Heeding my brother's blunt summary of my travels so far, "you're not surfing very much for a surf trip," I packed my bags and left my previous location in search of greener pastures. Getting to my new locale required several hours of transit, a few busses ranging from empty with plush seats and A/C to standing room only, crying babies and no air movement whatsoever. As I stumbled off the crowded bus, gear in tow, I walked in the direction that seemed most likely to have a beach only to arrive on an eerily deserted waterfront, restaurants all closed for whatever reason. This town has no TripAdvisor reviews to lean on, no guide books to point you toward a hotel, just ghostly unfinished high rises and an occasional car, obviously destined for somewhere else, passing through. Eventually I settled on a hotel with cable TV and a great air conditioner, though oddly the bed frame is concrete, the furniture is plastic, and the shower head is a PVC pipe coming from the wall in case you feel like getting hosed off. As the drunk "assistant" led me to my room, I wondered what the hell I was doing here.

Well, these last few days of surf have proved worth the uneasiness I feel in this place.

One thing that has really impressed me with the locals here is the hardworking fishermen that head in and out all day. Their pangas are beached in thick sand far above the high side line and to get them to the water, five or more guys place round logs on the ground and roll the boat over them, each time placing the log that was behind the boat back in front so that they can move it another ten feet.

These boats go many miles out and at night, you can see the glow from many boats' single light as two-man crews work in the dark sea far from the safety of shore.

A stray cat catches the sunset atop his colorful perch.

The seafood has been good in all of coastal Ecuador and here is probably as fresh as anywhere in the country with hundreds of boats on the sand.

Some fishermen even use these traditional balsa rafts powered only by a single long paddle, pulling in their haul of shrimp from nets cast over the side.