Fishing for
Coconuts is about my much-anticipated arrival to the Pacific coast. After four
weeks in a small mountain town in the center of Costa Rica’s mainland I was
ready to be in the ocean again and surf some of the best waves of my life.
Playa Dominical, along the southern coast of CR, is where I would spend the
next seven weeks of my travels. I had a week off before starting a second
Spanish course where I planned to meet Lucas, a German friend of mine from
previous travels. Our plan was to scale the coast in a 4x4 and stop along the
way for the best surf we could find. However, when we grouped up in Playa
Dominical we became a little preoccupied.
From inland Turrialba
I caught an early bus to the capital, San Jose, where I got on another bus to Jaco,
which is in the center of Costa Rica’s coastal stretch, but still a two hour
drive south to Dominical. I planned get a third bus from here or hitchhike,
whatever came first. So after sticking my thumb out towards the sky for about
ten minutes I hitched a ride with a crazy trucker for the last 125km stretch to
Playa Dominical. He was on a high kite but after walking with all of my gear
for one whole hour and now drenched in sweat, an air conditioned cap over a set
of wheels felt real good. We drove along the Pacific Coast speeding fast
passing any car that might slow us down straight on through the coconut
plantations that grow on this side of the country. Aisles and aisles of palm
trees for miles and then we saw a small community cut between the trees that
goes way back, built a hundred years ago for the poor plantation workers. About
a dozen houses half standing were situated around a futbol field and that was
it, until we were back driving past more palms.
He dropped me off near
Dominical eventually and I walked west down the dirt road serving as the center
of this small beach community. Five minutes go by and while I stopped and drank
a refreshing beer I could hear the surf nearby. Here I waited until Lucas and
his friend, Henrick, picked me up in their 4x4 and took me to the hostel where
they had been staying. Cool Vibes is the name of the place and it is located
directly in front of the beach with perfectly breaking waves. I met Lucas six
months before when he couchsurfed with me in San Diego, we became close
friends, stayed in touch, and now we would spent a week surfing in Costa Rica
together. Cheers to internal friends!
I borrowed whatever
board was lying around until I could get my own which ended up being a 6-2 retro
board that I fell in love with. Most days the surf was head high and the three
of us were the only ones at the two-sided peak directly out front of our
hostel. These were some of the best waves of my life and when we weren’t surfing
we were eating, when we weren’t eating we were looking for more empty surf
breaks, and when we weren’t doing that we were finding the most creative ways
to preoccupy us until the surf picked up again.
One day we went to
a waterfall with a natural pool at the bottom for swimming and a rope swing
suspended ten feet high from a tree. We had competitions to see who could do a
double back flip off of it. After completing this challenge one would gain fame
and prestige, but most of us would instead acquire the humiliation and pain
that is paired with the ever-frequent back flop across the surface of the
water. After another morning of surf we went off-roading on many a property we
weren’t supposed to be on through mud puddles and narrow winding bumpy roads to
all the remotest hard-to-get-to beaches we could find. Other days we would
climb up technical rock formations on the south point of the beach and from
here look out across the ocean and spot point breaks that had perfect shape and
no one on them. At low tide we would find out why: a shallow reef of sharp
jagged rocks.
But what we liked
most among our daily escapades was fishing for coconuts. In Costa Rica
thousands of palms line the beaches and are loaded with ripe coconuts and each
of them filled with a life giving bounty. But the difficulty, nay the
challenge, lay in retrieving them. Of course you could visit a local fruit
stand and have a chilled coconut cut open for you for only a buck. But Lucas
and I were still suffering a damaged ego from the notorious back flops of the
day before and in need of rebuilding our pride.
We liked the term
“fishing for coconuts” because during our first experience we realized how
similar to fishing it really is. A long pole is required and a lot of patience
as well. Once the coconut has been “caught” it must be skinned, or violently
cut open, and then the insides enjoyed. We took off down the beach, Lucas and
I, feeling wild and indigenous. We had knives and machetes and a desperate
thirst for coconuts. I spotted a long stick made from bamboo but it lay in a
thick swamp with who knows what in it. I carefully balanced myself across the
top of a tree stump to get closer to retrieving this tool but lost my balance
when I discovered a nest of fire ants under my feet and dozens of painful
stings across my feet. When I fell into the swamp I heard a sudden movement in
the water, and knowing there were crocodiles all over the area, sporadically
scattering about and accidentally threw myself at a barbed wire fence. Thigh,
wrist, ankle, and hands were wounded but I thankfully escaped a more
unforgiving enemy that still lurked in the water. But we got the stick and it
would now extend our reach to about twenty-five feet. Now we could reach the
bundle of coconuts on most of the trees, and after continuously nudging them we
would shower ourselves in delight. Lucas and I had far too many coconuts to
bring back home with us. So after drinking about five of them and then
showering in five more we each loaded ourselves with four giant coconuts and
headed back down the beach from where we came.
We left just too
guys with injured pride, but now our party consisted of two guys, too many
coconuts and a stick. No matter what bystanders on the beach thought of us, we
had reassured our confidence and would soon return home to share our bounty.
Playa Dominical, Costa Rica
27 October 2013