Nicaragua Surf Expedition
From left to right - Khem, Cam, Pete and Scott reflecting on the waves they just surfed
Despite living in a landlocked state, I still consider myself a surfer. I grew up on an island, I spent a large percentage of my free time in high school in a thick neoprene wetsuit surfing cold and terrible waves in Wales. But now I live in Colorado, over 2,000 miles from the closest ocean.
Pete vibing in the back of the truck after a sunset surf
So, when I got the last minute invitation to go to Nicaragua on a surf trip with some friends, I just had to say yes. How I got the invitation is a funny story in and of itself. Pete Mortimer, the director of The Alpinist, The Dawn Wall, Valley Uprising, and the creator of the Reel Rock Film Festival has become a good friend of mine over the past couple years. We met because he was mentoring me on a documentary project that I was producing in college. When I moved to Boulder, we started hanging at the skatepark and climbing gym with his younger son. We’ve worked together a few times, mostly in a shed that’s converted into an editing room, but I would consider Pete a friend way more than an employer or official mentor. When I was editing one of his films about Alex Honnold, the free soloist, Pete asked me why I wasn’t going to Nicaragua with him in a few days. I told him I never got the invite.
“Well, do you want to go to Nicaragua?” He asked
Three days later I was on a plane and the surf trip began…
Border Crossings and New Friends
Scott throwing some deuces as we bounced along the dirt roads on our way to the first surf session of the trip
The process of arriving to our hotel in Nicaragua was pretty painless but required a few different stops. We landed in Costa Rica and hopped in a car to the Nicaraguan border a couple hours away. We got dropped off just before the border and walked across with all of our board bags. There were five separate occasions where we handed our passports to various officials but the mood remained upbeat. When asked what his profession was, Pete mentioned he was a director. Scott told the customs agent that Pete was a porn director. Pete played along joking that Scott, our friend with a mustache, was the star talent. The border guard didn’t know whether to laugh at the joke or probe further into Pete’s career. He laughed and we continued on through.
The sunset was beautiful as we drove about 2 hours to the hotel from the border. It was dark during most of our drive but we got a glimpse of Lake Managua on our right before the sun descended below the horizon. I was cramped in the back next to seven surfboards. Most of the conversation in the van was about surfing, fly fishing, river trips and soccer. We arrived around 7:30 to the hotel, hitting every pothole on the final approach to the hotel.
Loading up the boat to search for waves along the coastline. The two waves we surfed this day were inaccessible by road so the boat was our only option
Our First Surf
Khem entering the water at one of the most popular waves in the region
Monday, April 24th, was the first day of surfing and honestly, it felt pretty subpar. Maybe it was my own ability limiting myself or poor wave selection, but I unfortunately didn’t feel confident in my surfing. We began the morning at around 9am after breakfast at our hotel. I hopped in the back of the truck we would be using for the week which belonged to Cam, our surf guide and the local surf shop owner. As we drove, I watched the second poorest country in the western hemisphere pass by my window. The construction workers in the car ahead of us were throwing rocks at dogs and cattle. As we passed through the small towns, many of the houses were built out of basic materials but most of the people we passed had smiles on their faces, and gave us a friendly wave. The morning surf session lasted about 2.5 hours. We parked at a friend of Cam’s who was a 50 year old local Nicaraguan man that never wore a shirt and could always be found sitting in a chair out front of his house. We walked about 10 minutes to the other end of the beach from Cam’s friend’s place where we discovered a beautiful beach break that we had all to ourselves. Nobody else came out to surf the whole time we were there.
Tired but happy
My paddling felt weak, and Pete yelled “I’m so effing tired” with a big stretch before even getting in the water. He took multiple breaks and kept asking for an espresso machine to keep his energy high after a long travel day yesterday. The winds turned onshore at around noon which cut our session short, but I was okay with it. I was behind every single wave and kept getting stuck in the whitewater while trying to make it to the face. 2 feet, fast, and hard to know where to be. I guess I’ve been surfing point breaks so much that I forgot that beach breaks were much more tricky. We took a break at the hotel where I fell asleep in the hammock for about 30 minutes.
The sun really wore me out. Around sunset we went out for another surf that granted me better rides than the morning but also gave me a sore neck and back the following morning. The sets felt pretty big for my first day back and it took a lot of duck diving and paddling to get out of rip currents and catch the waves. Pete was cautioning me from going too hard too soon and that’s exactly what I did but I had fun in the moment.
Our Life Jackets Were more for the fashion… not for the safety
Khem modeling his “life jacket” that had zero chance of keeping him safe in the water
I’ve never taken a boat to a surf break, but it’s always been on the list. A classic surf expedition activity. We drove to the same beach as yesterday and loaded up the boat on the beach, surrounded by other local fishermen taking their boats out and dodging the giant pig in the water that always seemed to be here. We had to put on life jackets to avoid getting stopped by the police. The local guys, our photographer and captain, didn’t put them on but it didn’t matter. Clearly it only mattered for the gringos. If we went overboard, the life jackets wouldn’t do much to save our lives, but they would definitely accelerate the drowning process. Nearly every one of us had our mangled life jackets worn improperly, not for the sake of rebellion but because all the fabric and straps were broken.
Khem leaping into our first surf session from the boat
When we arrived at the first break of the day there were a couple boats that had already pulled up but the crowd wasn’t too bad. I didn’t have an interest in surfing the main competitive peak so sat inside and would hop on when many of the beginners would fall off. The wave was a long peeling left, so I had plenty of room remaining on the wave by the time they fell off. It wrapped around into a unique section of a reef that formed a sort of bowl feature in the wave that resulted in some fun maneuvers as the wave closed out. It was an a-frame but the peak would move so it made the crowd less gnarly. I had some pretty good lefts and sat inside a bit to catch more. I probably caught 20 waves in the first 30 minutes then things began to slow down. Great to practice backside slashes and I even had a pretty good right in there. Also, it was fun to look back at the beach and see the hut where Eric was taking photos.
Searching for point breaks…
When we were finished at that wave we paddled back to the boat and boated over to the second break of the day, a long reeling point breaking off the rocks. The boat ride took about 15 minutes and we watched the only boat leave right when we were pulling in. Unfortunately, within five minutes of our arrival, six other boats showed up and the crowd ruined my chances for set waves. I got two long ones then had a board hit me as I dropped in. Then, I had to pull out of three other waves since people were right under the take off. So, I went inside and got about 10 waves way close to shore away from the crowds that were smaller but still fun. When I finished the boat surf day my hip was incredibly sore and in a lot of pain.
The next day there was no chance I was going to surf because of an injury to my hip.
Likely an overuse injury rotating too hard on my backside cuts. Although I couldn’t surf, I wanted to watch the guys surf at one of my favorite waves. We arrived at about 8:30am and they paddled out without me. I sat on the beach with my phone, a copy of the Surfer’s journal that Cam let me borrow from Dogtown (his surf shop), and an extra board in case somebody wanted to swap what they were riding. I talked to some other gringos that recently bought land here about what life was like here for them. Quiet, not as crowded as Costa Rica, better waves and less people.
They still don’t speak Spanish though and said they need to be better at learning it.
Jason entering the water with a perfect view of a local rider finishing his ride
There was a local kid who didn’t speak English or Spanish, but kept lingering and eyeing our stuff - clearly surveying us to see what valuables we would leave behind when we paddled in to surf. I told the other gringo, Jerry, that I wanted to walk to the car with them because I felt unsafe having my phone on the beach here because I thought I would get mugged. He said I would very likely get mugged if I was alone but that I could totally take that kid. Not feeling too inspired to fight a teenager to keep my phone, I walked to the car and put it away. Once the guys were done surfing, we headed back to Dogtown, to buy some sunscreen, shirts and some coffee. I played Kelly Slater’s pro surfer game for the second time in my life, the first being a few days ago, also at Cam’s shop. I’m very thankful I don’t have that in my life normally because I would never get anything done.
A journal entry I wrote at sunset
I took this photo as I wrote this journal entry you’re reading
As my hip flexors ache and I watch the sunset my mind drifts to all the waves left unridden. For me, this trip isn’t about seeking happiness, as I feel really happy in my day-to-day life in Colorado, but it’s about taking a moment to be a part of nature in a new way. If I wasn’t here, these waves would keep breaking. The majority without a surfer on them. As I sit on the seawall outside of our hotel, overlooking empty peak after empty peak break on the sand as three Gauchos trot past, surfing isn’t about conquering nature. It’s about being a part of it. You don’t ruin any plants when going off the trail, you don’t add to the pollution by riding a ski lift, or accidentally pull a rock off the cliff face when climbing.
That wave comes and goes, with you on it or not. There’s another identical one right behind it. And as I sit here injured and worried I won’t be able to surf on this trip again, it’s comforting to think about all the waves I still get to catch in my life. I’m closer in age to Pete’s 8 year old son than him, and Pete’s still shredding. So, if sitting on the sidelines today taught me anything it’s that life is long and there are many more waves and good memories ahead.
After a solid rest day, I was ready to surf again. I was surfing, more solidly, and relaxed than I have all trip. Then the barrels started to come, and my session went from good to great.
Scott was the ripper of the trip. His flowy style, big smile and raging mustache could be seen on nearly every wave in the ocean. I cannot comprehend how we could physically surf as much as he did, it was amazing to witness.
Such a fun session and I was so stoked to be able to get out there despite a pulled hip flexor injury that took me out for the whole day yesterday. My biggest and best wave of the trip happened that morning. The beachbreak formed a right hander that I dropped in, dragged my hand to stall and had a little lip start to form over me but I turned around and was super freaked because it was way overhead and heavy. The best opportunity for a real barrel ride but a fast 8 foot barreling wave was just too scary given how injury prone I’ve been on surf trips this year. If I had fallen, it would have been a brutal slam into the shallow sand below, something I was familiar with on smaller barreling waves earlier in the session. Thankfully, I ended the wave with a massive floater that I turned and landed perfectly facing towards the shore.
Scott sitting in the back of the truck, protecting himself from the dust, as we pass by a local and his ox cart
On the way home Mastin, the owner of our hotel, told us about the salt mines that we pass every time we go to that surf break where I nearly made it in and out of the barrel. They let in water from the ocean through a canal that leads to the square pools that we drive past. The pools have black tarp on the bottom which, in hot weather, evaporates the water so they’re just left with the salt. They store it in a building that has beams on the side that hold the walls together because they pack the structure so full of these bags of salt that it can blow out the walls. Mastin wasn’t too sure where they sell it but he imagined it was distributed throughout Nicaragua and likely exported. Scott said a large percentage of it probably is going to end up on the rim of his margaritas tonight.
Cam (left) and Pete (right) pointing out the rest of the crew in the water as they sipped on their sunset beers
That night we surfed near one of the more popular breaks in the region
Super fun, pretty mellow. Probably caught 7 or 8 nice ones with just me and Cam in the water. I did have one late take off that resulted in a slam into the reef which cut up my feet but thankfully nothing else. Could’ve been super bad but minor scratches on toes is nothing. Hips felt alright, stoked to get a morning and evening in after worrying I wasn’t going to be able to surf at all yesterday.
After the evening session we all sat on the cliff. The guys had beers and we watched the sunset together. So idyllic. The salt dried on my skin. Some reef cuts were still stinging a bit on my toes. My mouth hurt from smiling as we sat, still in our swimsuits, sharing highlights and lowlights from our sessions. We made it back to the hotel, and all chatted in the pool for a while.
Nicaragua has two main beers - Victoria and Toña. Scott was a Toña guy
We had fresh fish, snapper, that Mastin bought from a fisherman who had just caught it 10 minutes before we left the barreling beach in the morning. The bag of six snapper sat in the backseat of the car next to me on the ride home, but blessed our dinner plates that night. Pete shared some stories of filming professional athletes in Europe in his younger days and talked about his upcoming tv series. He says it’s gonna be pretty big… and I believe him. It’s not set to air until 2025 I think but it’s definitely an exciting project in the works for him. Less than 30 hours after we return from this trip he heads to California to start shooting that project. Hectic.
The next day I reflected on my year as we drove to the surf break…
Scott adjusting the leash on his board in preparation for his surf just a few minutes away from this bumpy, dusty truck ride we all grew to love
I rode in the back of the truck with the boards again on the way there and thought all about the different vistas and places I traveled this year. In 2023 I’ve been to Spain, Morocco, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Moab, Vegas, and Washington… and somehow still had enough time to volunteer at church, create fun memories with friends in Boulder and form a meaningful relationship with my girlfriend. The surf session wasn’t that memorable today. I was really tired after about 10 minutes from getting caught in a riptide shortly after my first wave.
I ended up with some decent rides and felt more relaxed after that. The waves died and onshore winds picked up after about an hour so we headed out. We passed local kids fishing with a fishing line wrapped around a coke bottle. I saw a kid skimboarding a wooden plank, likely a door. Everybody was so happy, smiling and laughing, and getting their Saturday beach fix. Cook outs were taking place over open fires and not a single person, kid or adult, was on a phone.
We talked about who is happier, these kids or the kids in the US plugged into their Apple Watches and smartphones? Definitely these kids.
Hot Springs in the midday tropical heat
On our way back to the hotel we stopped at a hot spring that was far from luxurious in its set-up but my muscles needed it. There were four pools, one for soaking, one for kids, one for washing clothes and one not to be entered since it fed all the others so they wanted to keep it clean. We talked about other hot springs we’ve visited around the world. Cam talked about the hot springs at La Fortuna in Costa Rica he’d visit when he needs to leave the country to reset his tourist visa. I mentioned the hot springs in Glenwood Springs I’d soak in after river surfing. Khem talked about the Onsen he would relax in on a ski trip to Hokkaido, Japan.
It seems like soaking in hot water is a unifying activity globally. We left the hot springs after about 20 minutes and went back to the hotel. I fell asleep almost immediately. I was falling asleep in the car but once I got in the AC my body just gave out.
Our Second Boat Trip Had It’s fair share of problems…
After some gnarly sunburns on our first boat day, we learned to bring hats and hoods to cover up from the sun
We almost flipped the boat on the way in from our second surf day which was hectic, close call but hilarious to look back on. Cam fully jumped on top of Jason as he crossed to the high side of the boat to prevent us from flipping. This boat was big, wooden, heavy and had a disheveled structure to provide shade. If it capsized, we would’ve been entangled in that overhead tarp squashed under the weight of the boat. The locals on shore were all pretty shocked we made it out of that 5 second wave ride in our massive wooden boat.
We had some boat troubles on the way out too. The engine died and although it got fixed after about 15 minutes of our boat captain tinkering with it, we still couldn’t go faster than 5 miles an hour the rest of the day. When the boat died I instantly pulled my camera out and Pete complimented me saying I was a good documentary filmmaker for filming right when things start going wrong. I think it’s just an instinct we filmmakers have because we know that’s when all the best photos and videos happen.
Khem waxing up his new board before paddling out. This board granted our group the name “The Broken Fix Box Band” as we suffered a few dinged boards by the end of the trip.
On our final day of surfing, we really pushed hard! We had Eric, the local photographer out taking pictures of us, so I was on my game. We decided to surf the local break in front of the hotel instead of driving somewhere else, which was a bit of a relief because the travel to and from the wave, packing the car and walking out, can eat up a lot of time over the course of the day. It was nice to walk five minutes from our rooms and surf.
Our first session started near the main point, but once the waves started to die down a bit and the crowds increased, we migrated closer to our hotel and surfed the river mouth. It was at the river mouth that I totally surfed straight into the sand. I was having a great wave, and was surfing decently well, but wasn’t paying attention and quickly discovered that there was no more water underneath my board.
Dinging Boards and Party Waves
This outdoor shower was the site where we swapped stories of our favorite waves of the session
So, I took a face full of sand and caused some pressure dings on Pete’s new surfboard. I think he was pretty bummed but then started making jokes about it to ease the tension. Jason, Pete’s brother, didn’t seem to care too much and when I told them I would pay for it, he dismissed it, saying it was no big deal. After a quesadilla and a quick break in the pool, we were back at it for another hour and a half at the river mouth. I was surfing a little more conservatively now that I had dinged the board, but still had some great ways to show for the session.
Scott and I had the ultimate last party wave. I thought that was going to be the last session of the trip so I showered and started relaxing in the hotel. I got a knock on my door a couple hours later from Scott asking if we wanted to do a sunset session at a secret break I can’t talk about. I surfed a foamie that Mastin let me borrow and we headed over to a pretty sketchy point break that broke over an incredibly shallow reef. However, every wave was perfectly shaped and came in three waves. I would go, then Scott, then Mastin. Then, we would wait for 5-10 minutes and do it again. That was the last surf of the trip and left me with a big fat smile on my face as we all walked home.
A shot of two local surfers on their dirt bike as they drove through a dried river bed. In the rainy season, this “road” is a lake which limits access to a whole section of town. But, for now, it was our commute to surf.
Final Thoughts From my Nicaragua Surf Expedition
I tried desperately to get barreled this trip. Here’s one of my attempts that didn’t quite pan out the way I hoped
Now that you’ve read and seen photos from my entire Nicaragua trip you can make your own conclusions on how it went but there are a few feelings I’m left with after this trip.
Firstly, Nicaragua is regarded as the land of lefts - which meant I was surfing on my backside about 90% of this surf trip. By the end of the week I felt more confident in my maneuvers on my backside than frontside. So, a lesson I can extrapolate further from that surfing experience is that it’s important to push myself past my comfort zone because sometimes it can lead to incredible results. Something that, on the surface, may feel uncomfortable might yield surprisingly beneficial results.
My cutbacks have never been something special but they vastly improved while in Nicarauga. Huge shoutout to Eric, our local photographer, for giving me a chance to step in front of the camera on this surf trip
Secondly, surfing with friends is better than surfing alone. Some of these waves were the best of my life and being able to share them with these new friends only grew our excitement while we were in the water. The hooting and hollering that could be heard throughout the day kept energy levels high when muscle fatigue only continued to grow.
Finally, there are a lot of waves left to be ridden in my life. I was the youngest member of this trip by over 20 years. There were five of us in total and watching the four other fifty year olds surf some of these waves better than me gave me hope for the next 20 years of my own surfing career. While I don’t get to surf regularly, given I chose to settle in the landlocked town of Boulder, I still see a joyful future of surfing around the world after this trip. These guys are ripping and it doesn’t seem like they’re slowing down anytime soon. Age is just a number and, as that number gets higher, so can the number of amazing waves you can ride.
Want to Work Together?
Roo is a commercial/documentary filmmaker and photographer based in Boulder, Colorado but travels all around the world for his filmmaking career. He has produced films for Outside Magazine in Ireland, camera operated for Netflix in the Rocky Mountain West, photographed among indigenous communities in Peru and Ecuador, directed videos with professional climbers in Mexico and has received notable recognition in his hometown of Orcas Island in Washington State for his work telling uplifting stories in the outdoor space.
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