On the Coast

Our latest adventure was to the coast and the town of Canoa. All of the guide books mention it as a side note and say something about it being a nice sleepy little fishing village. The town also happens to have the most consistent beach break for surfing in the country, which is how we decided on this place to wait out the time until our internship got off the ground.

Normally the guidebooks would be correct, however the weekend that we chose happened to be one of the three busiest of the year. Consequently, the sleepy little fishing village turned into punk-rock-hippy-infested-surfer-filled-party town.

We had arrived a day before Independence Day after what was most likely the worst bus trip in the history of Ecuador. Our hope was to stay at Hotel Bambu, which is the preferred gringo spot in town. As it turned out, we were lucky to get one of the last (and worst) rooms in the town. Hotel Shelmar normally goes for $2/person/night, but we were privileged enough to pay $6. The worst part about the room wasn't the price, dirty bathroom, or the 5 inch cockroach living under the bed, but rather the lack of a window pane between us and the bar-filled street on the other side of the wall.

While the hotel was far below our expectations, Canoa lived up to its reputation and it proved to be a wonderful five days.

I'd never been on a Pacific coast before and Canoa was a welcoming introduction. The ocean itself wasn't quite as kind however. As we were walking along the beach shortly after check-in, I couldn't restrain my excitement and had to run straight in. As I dove into my first Pacific wave I was surprised by how much stronger they were than those I'd experienced in the Atlantic. So much surprised that the wave knocked me off my feet, tumbled me through a wash cycle, and deposited me head first into the hard pack sandy bottom. I came out right away to share the irony with Liz and to make sure I didn't drown from a concussion. All seemed well enough so I was right back in with a newfound respect for the energy within the sea.

Our first day was like most of those after. We played in the surf on boogie boards while the sun was out and sipped on fruity rum cocktails once it had set. The beach break provided plenty of waves and during Hora Loca the bars served plenty of drinks. Hora Loca is Canoa's version of Happy Hour. Instead of drinks being half price, it's a two for one special; meaning that when you order one drink, two arrive at your table. As if this wasn’t generous enough, the bars are so kind as to stagger their Hora Loca's so that there was always one somewhere in town between 3 and 9pm. Pina coladas, banana coladas, daiquiris, and various other local concoctions were all made with fresh fruit that Ecuador is famous for.

The holiday weekend's festivities included live music and a surf contest. The live music was awful, the surfing was great. I've considered myself an inland surf bum for many years and the contest was a wonderful treat to watch. Surfers from all over Ecuador came to enjoy the out of season surf that Canoa's south facing shore allows. I had made arrangements to take a surf lesson the day after the contest with a Canoa native, Mauricio, who ended up taking third in the boogie board competition. When we were setting the time he asked me if I wanted a one or two hour lesson. Since this was a birthday present to myself the cost wasn't a factor and I asked what he recommended. To my surprise he suggested just one hour, assuring me that my body would thank me. In the three days that I'd been playing on the boogie board I'd gotten pretty good at a basic level. Judging by the relative ease of boogie boarding I had expected to pick up surfing quickly due to the pseudo-experience I had gleaned from books and magazine articles over the years. This was not the case though. The old adage of harder than it looks is an understatement with surfing. I knew not to expect much my first time out and not much was what I managed. The simple act of pushing yourself up from a prone position that I'd seen countless times from others was in fact a monumental task that required every bit of muscle and will power I could muster. After a dozen failed attempts with Mauricio pushing me into waves I returned to shore to re-evaluate and recuperate. After a few dry runs on land Mauricio offered some critique and we were back at it. The changes in technique I made worked and I was able to stand up on the board half a dozen times. Turns out that even standing up your first time out is doing ok so I was happy to push on. The next challenge arose after trying to paddle into the waves unassisted. The atrophy my upper body has undergone over the last five years of cycling became extremely pronounced when I was barely able to move in the water. The ones I did catch were pitifully small, but still I felt the rush and the energy of the wave pushing me along. While surfing proved immensely harder than I had imagined, I was still hooked. I spent the next couple days trying to catch some more waves and attempting to alter our itinerary to match surf season in Peru.

As I mentioned, we were lucky to get the room that we did. The entire weekend while we were at the various hostel restaurants, travelers streamed in looking for a place to stay and were invariable sent away. Even with the crowds, Canoa had charmed us. With no major responsibilities calling us, the decision to stay longer was easy. Finding a new hotel made the idea much more appealing as well. Sunday night we moved across town to Hostal Coco Loco. The crazy coconut opened in November of last year and had not yet made it into any of the guidebooks, though it is only a matter of time. Run by a wonderful Belgian and Dutch couple (with English that sounds Australian), Coco Loco was a drastic change from our previous residence. Thick mattresses, spotless restroom, and communal kitchen; all for the same $6 a night. I can only hope that we have a chance to return. Monday morning, we practically woke up in a different town. With the holiday over, Ecuadorian tourists returned to their jobs and we finally found the sleepy little fishing village. I was delighted to walk out the front of the hostel right onto the beach where I helped a couple of fishing boats dock and unload their morning catch. Caught up in the novelty, I decided to buy crab for dinner. Sadly my Spanish escaped me and I ended up buying the most expensive crab in Canoa. The fishermen had offered me a fair price of two crabs for a dollar, but I misunderstood and paid them two dollars for the largest crab they had. At least he cooked up tasty and worth every penny.

The trip down from to the mountains to the coast had been a frightening ordeal. Most bus drivers are aggressive, but ours had been downright dangerous. Even the Ecuadorians, who don’t know any other way of driving, were yelling at the driver to slow down. Needless to say we weren’t anxious to repeat the trip so we did what all good travelers do, we procrastinated by going some where else. After a quick four hour (and thankfully uneventful) ride down the coast we found ourselves in Puerto Lopez. This town in the departure point for visiting Isla de la Plata, fondly nicknamed “The poor man’s Galapagos”. Since a trip to the Galapagos is far beyond our budget, this was the island for us. We were entertained by blue footed boobies and nasca boobies (formerly masked boobies) that didn’t mind at all for you to photograph them from three feet away. The area did offer one thing that the Galapagos Islands don’t, a chance to see migrating humpback whales. Riding with fourteen other tourists and four crew, our twenty five foot boat bobbed rather precariously in the rough seas. Liz found herself sea sick for the first time while I held onto the camera with one hand and the boat with the other. Seeing the huge creatures leap above the water made it all worth it though. I was lucky enough to get a decent picture of the one time the larger female jumped. Up until that point a male and baby we were following had jumped numerous times and the awe had worn off some. The moment that the female jumped brought it all back again. She was at least twice the size of the other two, simply massive.

Our week long trip to the coast wet my appetite for the Pacific Ocean and I’m looking forward to our next meeting.