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MAINLAND MEXICO REDUX
Hans Hagen, Noah Shimabukuro, Chris del Moro and crew head south post shark attacks
By:
Hans Hagen
Photos: All photos: Tim McCaig and Pat Stacy
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September 12, 2008
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After a San Francisco surfer
was killed and a Mexican surfer bled to death by two separate shark attacks in Central Mainland Mexico in July, most surf travelers canceled their trips south. Not so Hans Hagen and crew. What follows is a brief overview of their trip. Not that we're saying go to someplace where there's been a bunch of shark attacks or anything. -- ed. Flying out of LAX, I've found it usually serves me best to rock up solo and early for low-cost/ no-cost surfboard transportation and a guaranteed aisle seat. But once I saw my compadres, I quickly realized this was not going to be the case on this Mexico trip. |
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And to be the straw that broke the bag-man's back, I came in hot with a "if it fits, bring it" packing strategy. Simply being, my theory when traveling in Mainland Mexico is you never know what you're gonna get. Tickled with surprise we coasted through check-in with not much drama at all. I just had to settle with the window. Not bad considering we over 200ft. of combined surfboard with all the trimmings. Two steps off the plane in Zihautenejo, our trip took a sharp turn to near cancellation. Zihautenejo is often referred to in the history books as "the land of women", but it had a facelift to become "the land of the shark". Instead of the normal "todo bien, let's go surf " kinda welcoming, Chimenike our dear friend and guide stood there with his arms crossed with a newspaper in hand. The newspaper the headline read "Arroja el mar cadaver mutilado." Translation: "The Ocean threw out a mutilated body". And if that wasn't enough, the photo that accompanied the story was a picture of a man face down with limbs missing, completely mangled by a shark or sharks., Not in a million years would you see such a graphic image gracing the covers of a US paper. It was nothing short of shocking. With my Spanish being average at best, that image was a tell all. Let's just say I didn't need a translator to tell me not to go surfing. I grabbed my teammate Chris Del Moro over to get our hands on a cold cerveza in hopes to quench our dire need of perspective. What should we do? With a month or so of planning and a prepaid house for the week, our path was already somewhat laid out. We wouldn't have been the first surf group to do a u-turn, turning our trip around back to LAX. Small fleets of surfers rattled by the news had been filing into the ticket lines, paying their ticket change fees and getting out. With the global average of 3.8 shark attacks a year, four in one week in a 5-mile radius bent the statistics right off the scale. After a quick group conversation, decisions were made. This is the beauty of democracy - spontaneously, we were on a mission to go find some surf. With other great spots in striking distance and we were on a mission...now it started to feel like a surf trip. Loading up Chimenike's truck, we hit the road south, debating our options. As long as we where gaining distance from the shark voodoo, it was good enough for me. Mainland Mexico is a surfer's paradise, with no real shortage of swell, and every option surf known to surfers, from massive beachbreak tubes to hollow points, reef peaks, jetty wedges, mushy points and the odd natural cove sider. There are options to go luxury, but our goal was to escape the clutches of the westernized resort towns and give our dollars some legs. A place that would deliver all the basics in surf hedonism: Beachfront accommodation on perfect surf, a mattress, fan, 3-dollar meals and one-dollar beers. Although hitting the road here has its potential pitfalls, with some dangerous road conditions and uneasy military check-points, it served us well to sack up and mission, just learn conversational Spanish. Oh, and don't be afraid to smile and leave any contraband at home. With the power of positive thinking, this lengthy stretch of juicy, warm, liquid freedom can be yours to enjoy, for weeks, months, and like a lot of my ex-pat friends, years...shit, maybe a lifetime. There's one rivermouth, a sleepy surfing village that's best known for cool hammock nap spots and its long, peeling left-point perfection. Local Mexican surfers rule this place with generations of surfing families. On the top of the heap right now is Flako, a world-class regularfoot with a super radical, smooth and powerful approach. He placed second this year in the national championships of Mexico. This village is a melting pot of all kinds of different travelers and seasonal residents. We met a half Swiss, half Chinese brother and sister travel team on an "Into The Wild" kind of peddling/ surfing adventure. Talk about existing on the fringe; these two San Francisco masochists left their city nine months ago with vintage ten speeds, a side-rack with a surfboard and saddlebags, cycling their way to Guatemala and back, sleeping in tents and surfing all day. And in an era of rapid-fire globalization and the scummy hands of man meddling with just about everything under the sun, their trip seemed just about right. MORE TRAVEL SURFLINE HOME PAGE |