We only had a couple of days between saying our farewells to Huck and bobby and welcoming our new friend, Carlos from Miami. In that short gap, we resupplied and dealt with the bureaucratic complexities of checking a boat and three shaggy sailors into a new country. It proved particularly difficult here in Costa Rica. After some of the treatment we received by the officials, it seems that the in-flow of gringos has created animosity and in some, even xenophobic tendencies. But after being judged, shooed off and sent from building to building for little to no reasons for two days, we were officially checked into Costa Rica.
Carlos arrived in good fashion (literally, the guy knows how to dress well) and good attitude. Coming from Cuban heritage, Carlos’ personality has an outgoing flare that is appealing and contagious. The combination of his good attitude, enthusiasm and big personality made him a fun and pleasurable addition to the crew. Lucky for society, he uses his social skills in his career as a defense attorney in Miami. He told us some incredible stories of his clients, many sounding close to a Hollywood gangster movie plot. I would relay the details here, but I don’t want to get shot by a hit-man. Carlos voiced his tension of being at risk after defending some of his clients.
We were ambitious to get Carlos surfing a lot, since that is what he wanted. Luckily, Carlos knows this region well, having visited annually for the past nine years. We may have hosted, but he was the guide. Via Panga, rental car and Patience, we surfed, Ollie’s Point, Witches Rock, Playa Grande, Playa Negra and Playa Tamarindo.
We instantly fell into a rhythm together: We woke up every morning at 0430. While motoring Patience to the surf, we’d crush a bowl of dry milk and cornflakes and drink a cold cup of coffee, brewed overnight. Carlos skipped a step and ate his cornflakes with the cold coffee instead of milk – the guy knows how to charge hard, skipping all unnecessary steps. The early mornings gave us the advantage of good winds and few crowds. Back on Patience after the wind and tide turned unfavorable, we would devour eggs and beans for our second breakfast. Waking up at that hour allows the availability of the whole day after surfing for three hours. So we’d lazily make our way into town in search for more food. Nothing beats a good, cheap casado (traditional plate of rice, beans, choice of meat and fried plantain) for a healthy and satisfying meal. In the afternoon we would either seek more surf with dying winds (evening glass off), or drink cold beers and talk about surfing. And so it went, more or less, that we glided through our week with Carlos.