There were maids and cooks and security guards, but he was the maestro who oversaw the whole operation.
Down the beach we found a really fun round beach break: Colorados. The locals had it wired, and were getting shacked on every wave .
Ian and I had tried for years to get him down to Oaxaca, but most of his surf travels involved Indo and Fiji and Rusty and Martin.
The rest of our party – Jonny, Ian, Jark, Ty and Billy – stood and yelled as we entered. And coconut crabs, bright orange and purple, scampered about the floor like poorly behaved pets.The houses and structures tended to be built right next to the road; and beyond, in the distance, the hills and fields were green and alive. It was raining steadily still, and I could feel an onshore wind blowing through the house from the water just beyond.People hurried about outside as we drove along, moving quickly and covering their heads with anything at hand. We walked into the main dining hall to find the others as Roberto unloaded what little we had brought with us.Jark picked up one of the crabs and dropped it into his gin and tonic. Jonny had rented the whole house for a week, and invited the rest of us to come and sample the wares at Colorados and Pang Drops.He had never been to Nicaragua – none of us had – but he knew one of the owners of the house, and was intrigued by the idea of a wave that tubed on takeoff almost every time, this close to home yet far enough away that crowds, ideally, would not be a factor.