Biggest Waves / Biggest Wipeouts

The View From Hollywood 

Whats up everyone! It’s been a second since I last posted a little story, but that’s ok because I have been using my time efficiently. I am still currently living and making memories in Mexico. My visa will be expiring soon so I will be cruising up the country to the ‘ol USA to see what the next six months have in store. Life is fluid and always changing. I’m excited to see what crazy places and people are in store for me! I hope that everyone has been settling in to the new year! Here is a freshie! A new story from 2020. 

My buddy Doug rolled up to my place right on schedule at 6:45am and we loaded up my my board and backpack and hit the road. Lets take a minute here to explain this character —Doug— that I have been chilling with since late October. Doug is a super rad ex-pat that has been venturing into Mexico to explore and surf this tropical paradise for the last 16 years and has been living in Barra de Navidad (the pueblo that has also been my home base) for the last 7 years. At first glance Doug appears to be your standard lanky 45 year old gringo (he looks like he could be Alex Honolds brother), but get talking to this guy for a second and you’ll quickly realize that this guy isn’t your average gringo. The best way I can describe this guy is that he is a professional self employed acupuncturist that has the wackiest work schedule that is strictly built around the best times to catch waves —nuff said. 

We got my crap loaded into the car and started puttering out of town in the ‘ol “Ford Exploder.” I had smoked a fat one prior to departure because the rules had been laid out very clearly “NO WEED.” We were going to be crossing a couple of Mexicos most crime ridden states and there were supposedly very strict military checkpoints just waiting to shake down a couple of surfer gingos headed down the coast. Needless to say I was very stoned and feeling very mellow. Doug though… I could tell that there was a different energy about him --he was amped up. We crossed into the state of Colima and cruised the toll road until we got to the state of Michoacán. The worn Ford motor whined as we voyaged through the tropical coastal mountains. After 16  years in Mexico Doug has become less predictable than the infamously unpredictable Mexican traffic. 

Camp bby

We made it to La Ticla in record time! Less than two and a half hours later we were cruising through the tiny indigenous pueblo towards the coast. Two restaurants, two tiendas, and no gas-stations definitely nothing to write home about. Doug never batted an eye as we jumped topes and maneuvered around potholes. The road ended in a “T” and we turned left —Hollywood as its referred was the classier of the two campsites in the area and Doug had informed me that it would be worth the extra pesos for more comfortable nights stay. 

We were eager to get in the water. Doug and I started setting up the the tent to stake our claim in a prime campsite with world-class views of the ocean and easy access to beers at the restaurant. I still hadn’t gotten a good look at the wave, but what I could tell from glancing over my shoulder while figuring out the mansion of a tent was that it looked big —real big. 

We lathered ourselves in sunscreen, slipped our board shorts on, and ran down to the beach. Standing ankle deep in the water and staring at some of the most fierce waves I have ever seen —thats when the high from the morning really wore off. Adrenaline took over as I watched the crowd of international surfers ripping on over-head monsters. The energy in the water here was real —much more powerful than our local longboard break in Barra. 

Doug and I timed the waves and started paddling into and threw mother natures washing machine. You really have to work hard to make it through the impact zone here. Ticla is a river-mouth break so the real bombs (big-ass waves) are forming a bit off-shore, but theres also quite the shore break happing along the surrounding beach —needless to say you have to stay on your toes here.

We did our best to duck dive the heavy stuff (a skill that I don’t get to practice often) and continue to paddle hard to where the waves were forming. I have been in the water for several hours nearly ever day of the week for the past few months, but tick was still zapping all the energy from my arms and back like a kook who just rented a foamy for the first time. 

Time to take the edge of after nearly drowning 

Just when I had thought I had made it to safety I looked up to see a total bomb (probably an 8 foot wave) breaking right on top of me. I managed to inhale just a little bit of air before slamming face first into the ocean. My foot hit the ocean floor, but I was suspended several feet down, swirling and tumbling backwards towards the beach with the force of the wave. The first 10 seconds I tried to remain calm, knowing it would just be a waste of oxygen to fight this big of a wave, but after the first 10 seconds my lungs were screaming and my eyes opened wide —everything was a blur of white. The next 10 seconds felt like 5 minutes as I clawed towards the surface with my arms —legs kicking frantically beneath me. The muscles in my face and neck were spasming when I finally broke the surface and gasped for air. “Holy shi..” another whitewater smacked me in the face. Underwater I reached for my leash and reeled my board in hard. I climbed aboard (wow not broken) still gasping for air I paddled again to open water. 

The Man, the Myth, El Doug 

“Wow man, I thought that was gonna be a board breaker for you,” Doug greeted me when I finally made it out. I still hadn’t caught my breath by the time the next set was rolling in, but we were on a mission. The waves start as small humps on the horizon and grew in size as they approached us. The first wave rolled under us and I felt a tickle in my stomach as we gained several feet of elevation and back down again. A huge a-frame was forming right in front of us. We quickly paddled towards the wave to reposition. 

“You go right!” I heard Doug coaching me and suddenly I was at the top of a sheer 8 foot liquid cliff. Nearly bursting with fear I felt the ocean falling out from beneath me (I just had a first hand encounter with the power that these waves could create). I popped up to my feet and dropped in. A moment of free-fall then I felt the solid deck of my board beneath my feet —I bent my knees and turned right hard. Next thing I knew I was gliding along the face of the biggest wave of my life. Its a surreal feeling standing onto of the ocean having water rush past your shoulder towards the sky. I could feel the craftsmanship and hydrodynamics of my board as I carved from the bottom of the wave back up high on the face. 

Eventually after the magical ride died off and I started paddling back out into the line-up --back through the washing machine . We spent every ounce of physical energy we had chasing waves that day. When the swell died down and wind picked up we sat in hammocks, fumado mota, drank beer, and ate mole. No worries.