I was up real early Friday morning, January 21 2011 feeling better than I had in quite some time. It was 7am and sorta chilly. I put on socks and a long sleeve T and drank black coffee. Chango had already gone surfing. He’s part of the dawn patrol at La Punta. Papa doesn’t surf main beach anymore because it’s no place for old people. He’ll be the very first to say the place terrifies him.
I waxed up and put fins back in my composite 6’6, loaded up on sunscreen, and walked barefoot to the main beach break. It was 7:30am. From the tree, the walk is a little over a mile. I stretched on the beach in front of the surf for about 10 nervous minutes, and then found my crease. It was 3-4 foot and surprisingly manageable. The set waves were still double overhead if you had the right board and the skill set to nut up. I had neither.
There seemed to be no shortage of familiar faces in the water. There did however seem to be a massive shortage of strength in my arms and legs. It was wonderful to be back in these waters. Any waters for that matter. Made a couple waves, had a couple moments. I half jogged back to the treehouse to minimize my time in the hot tropical sun. It was 9:30am.
On my way home I ran into the man with a canopied pickup filled with oranges. He met me at the tree ten minutes later. 25 oranges for 20 Pesos.($1.60) Ate a bunch of oranges and papaya and then went to work around the tree. Papa Chango has me working for some keep. Plenty for me to do around here even though he does all the real work.
He likes having me around I’m sure. I don’t think he has any idea who I really am or what I’m doing. I’m still pretty secret about things.