26 October, 2009| God Damned Stingray

So, I was on my own. Hayley and Cass left this had left for Panama, and I was off to Jaco. I took quick glance at my Lonely Planet guidebook to see just which bus terminal I needed to reach before I asked the friendly man at the front desk how to get there. The Coca Cola Terminal was supposedly just down the road, as the map showed (cheap, on so accurate map of the city given by the hostel). We are here (noted by the red star) and the terminal is here (marked with a small bus-like shape near the edge of the page). Okay I thought to myself, it’s a nice day and I’ll skip the taxi and walk to save a few bucks. Good idea right? Wrong! Not that anything bad happened, but as it turned out the small map prepared by the hostel was not quite to scale. I believe that a few streets had been omitted from the map in order to fit the terminal. I walked through downtown San Jose, packs and all, toward the station. And I walked, and I walked, and I walked some more. I was just about to give up, when I ducked into a small shop to ask just how I still had to go to reach the small bus-like marker that seemed so close. You might be thinking what!? Real men don’t ask directions! True, but real men (gringos with backpacks) who get lost in the wrong part of San Jose also never get seen again. As it turns out, the terminal was just around the corner. I arrived at the crowed terminal and begin to ask where to ticket office could be found. I don’t know why, but taxi drivers just don’t seem to understand why travelers would rather spend 3 dollars on a bus ride than 30 dollars on a taxi to the same place? It makes sense to me. Anyways, after battling through numerous soliciting taxis I finally reached to ticket counter, and minutes later was sitting on the crowded bench waiting for the 11:15 bus to Jaco.

I slept most of the way to Jaco, and arrived around 2:00. Had I know, I would have got off the bus downtown. Instead I had to walk back into town, as the bus station is outside of town. It was a good walk down Jaco’s main street. I didn’t really know where I was going; just the name of a hostel (Beds on Bahia, suggested by Hayley and Cass) and instructions to looks for a green sign that read “Papas y Burgers.” Finally I spotted the vibrant sign down a side street, and went to check in. The hostel was small but homey, and I hadn’t been there 10 minutes before I met Mike and Jen (both working at the hostel). They were headed out to surf and invited me to tag along. Surfing is the main reason I went to Jaco, so why not? I tossed on my shorts, grab the biggest board (the bigger the easier) from the shop next door, and headed to the beach!

Surfing is hard! I love the water and like to think I’m quite athletic. I have good balance, and though I don’t pump weights I am by no means weak. But surfing is hard. It takes strength, stamina, courage, discipline, and more than anything it takes practice. The hardest part of surfing and most time consuming is learning to read the waves; to understand their patterns, sets, breaks, and channels. I spent most of my time attempting to paddle past the break, which with a 9 foot board is anything but easy. Without the ability to duck dive the larger waves as they break, I had adopted the oh-shit roll (hold on to your board at tight as you can and roll upside down). About 90 percent of the time this method works fairly well, the other 10 percent of the time I found myself washed ashore like an awkwardly white beached whale. The other unfortunate circumstance (which led to my demise as you will read later) was the waves were doubles, coming in short sets up two. I could easily roll the first wave, but was often unable to reposition myself before the next wave hit. The outcome: that 10 percent of the failed oh-shit rolls were happening about 90 percent of the time! But I was determined, and with some help from Mike I eventually found a channel and made it out. I was so tired I just lay on my board. I wanted to take a nap, but figured the ocean wasn’t the best place. After resting awhile I was ready to give it a go. It took me a while to get the timing right, but after numerous falls and gallons of saltwater later I finally caught a wave. Mike was yelling go, go, go, paddle, paddle (which I did, probably looking more like awkward turtle than a surfer). As the wave built I could feel its presence moving me and the board with great force. I grabbed the board and force myself up. It was amazing. I just stood there gliding atop the water as the wave raced me toward to shore. I couldn’t see my face, but I’m guessing it was quite similar to that of a six year old boy who just received his first six shooters and cowboy boots on Christmas morning. I rode that wave proudly all the way onto the beach, and was done for the day.

That night we all went out to a local club called, Le Loft, where they were having a special; buy a drink get free sushi, what a deal! We hung out at the club for a while before we headed back to the hostel. That night everybody at the hostel (Mike, Sergio, Jen, Brittany, Zack, Erin, Mary, and I) hung out in the hammocks listening to music and talking. Some choose to participate in slightly illegal activities, of which I did not partake. Overall, it was a fun and relaxing evening of storytelling.

The next day I met up with Nick and Todd (two old friends of my good friend Tess, who happen to be living in Jaco for a month to surf) We had tried to hook up the day before, but having no form of communicate besides Facebook made it a little difficult. We decided to meet at 1:00 in front of the KFC, yes the KFC; it was easy to find. They were fun guys and we got along well. For a while we just walked around Jaco; checking out the local surf shops, markets, and then stopped to get some delicious pizza at Big Ron’s (appropriately named) NY Pizza and Subs. Nick and Todd had rented a condo in this nice gated community, and it wasn’t long before I worked my way onto a free couch for a few days. Later we headed back into town to rent me another board (this time a little shorter, 7’6”) and then out to the beach because I just couldn’t wait to drink some more saltwater! Unfortunately, the conditions were less than ideal, and we didn’t stay long…we would try again in the morning.

We awoke early to the bluest sky I had seen since my arrival, grab a quick bite to eat, waxed our boards, and headed to the beach. I was feeling good, and knew that I was going to get up a lot today. A certain sea creature however had other plans for my day. The weather was fabulous, but again the waves were doubling. As before I was having a heck a time getting past the break, but I didn’t give up. I was so close, and then it happened. I was paddling out to take on a large double set and I successfully oh-shit rolled to first wave only to be manhandled by the second. As I was being tossed about like a rag doll under the water, I assumed the fetal position to which I had become quite accustomed. I waited until water calmed and then stood. I had only been standing for a fraction of a second when COW POW! I felt a sharp pain in the inner arch of my left foot, which sent me crippling into the oncoming surf. I grabbed my board and hobbled to shore. When I reached shallow water I lifted my foot only to see it covered in blood (with the saltwater inhibiting coagulation, it looked worse than it was). I limped up the beach a ways and sat to examine my wound. A deep small penetration, maybe a piece of glass I thought to myself? I tried my best to clean and wound and remove any visible fragments, but I needed to get to my medical supplies back in the apartment and Nick had the only Key. Unfortunately the rip tide had been quite strong that day, and Nick and Todd had been pulled way out of shouting distance. I thought the pain would subside, and decided to tough it out on the beach. I waited and waited. Soon the pain intensified, it also spread through my whole foot and up my ankle. Alright I thought, I is no piece of glass…it could have been only one thing…God damned stingray. But what could I do I had no key, and I wasn’t about to go hobbling down the beach (away from the apartment) to find Nick and Todd. Solution: Sit, wait, and get sun burned. I sat for about half an hour before the pain had gotten so bad I knew I had to do something. I grabbed my board and headed back to the apartment. At the gate, a quick flash of the bloody foot granted me entrance and I began to explain in poor Spanish that I needed to get into the room, but didn’t have a key. Eventually I found my way to the owner of the apartment, two Americans, who thank god were home. They were happy to open the apartment for me, and having had experience with stings before, gave me a few pointers; well just one…really hot water. Just as I had gotten into the apartment, I see Nick and Todd hustling home (apparently the guard told them I was bleeding, which I quite vague and they probably thought I was dying). I grabbed my grabbed my medkit and began to clean the wound. Using some alcohol and a needle, removed the remaining sand, grit, and stinger shards. I spent the next 3 hours hobbling between the microwave (repeatedly swapping bowls of hot water) and the porch (where I sat with my foot wrapped in a hot towel). The heat was an amazing remedy; as the warm water pulled the venom form my foot it decreased the pain tenfold. But even the few seconds between switching bowls was horrible. I do not recommend it.

Later that night, after the paint was bearable again, we decided to hike to an old abandoned Italian building overlooking the bay. By this point I had become quite sick of Jaco, though I had meet some nice people and enjoyed my two days for the most part, the city is quite dirty. Lots of trash, drugs (I was offered 6 times in one day to buy pot, and of course stingrays. But they assured me it was worth it, and so I dawned my sneakers and off we went. We shared a taxi out of town to the trail head, and started up the mountain. It had rained quite a bit the night before and the trail was washed out in some places. A little mud however, was not going to keep us from the view but it did attempt to steal of shoe. When we reached the top, we followed a small path which opened to a wonderful view of the city and beach. We sat and talked as we waited. As the sun set on the horizon, the sky turned a brilliant pink and then a deep purple. It wasn’t long before to sun disappeared beyond the oceans, but I enjoyed every minute of it.

have faith, be happy

Pictures!