CHAPTER 10
El Tunco- ‘the pig’ in the native indigenous language of El Salvador, is a long, consistent, point break on the western coast of El Salvador which is reportedly easy for beginner surfers to learn on. It is also the name of the small village close by on the beach, and it is where Kacey and I spent a week enjoying the tropical sun, the cheap food and drink, and getting pummeled by the ‘beginner’ waves that are El Tunco.
Our first few days in the village, we found a cheap camping spot at an ‘under-construction’ hotel/restaurant. The owner was friendly and his two tenacious kids were a riot to watch, as they ran around with a seemingly endless supply of energy. After a few days of the unrelenting heat, and a few nights of the unrelenting mosquitoes, we cashed in our tent spot for a nice room with a fan and pool access, just up the road. While sitting out enjoying a cold beer on the porch, we watched as two new guests walked up the path to the rooms- they introduced themselves as Tim and Amy from Bath, England. After a few minutes of conversation, we knew they were a great couple. I happened to be searching the internet right then, looking for a soccer match that we could go to, and Tim turned out to be quite the futbol authority. Very shortly we had made plans to meet up in San Jose, Costa Rica to go to a World Cup qualifying match which would take place in about 2 weeks. We ended up running into them a few more times as we bounced down the coast of Central America, and we even stuffed all 4 of ourselves into the cab of the truck and traveled as a group for a few legs of the trip.
When we weren’t hanging out with our new British friends, we spent our time trying to refine our skills as surfers. We even shelled out and took a lesson- which pretty much consisted of the 16 year old instructor paddling us out to where the waves were huge, pushing us from behind right at the right moment for us to plunge down the face of the wave, and watching us get tossed and tumbled for a few hundred yards in towards the shore. Then out we would paddle for another round. I think these kids were probably just teaching us how they were taught- I can comprehend how their big brothers got a good laugh watching them get put through the ringer time after time, but as a paying customer, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind. I know it just takes practice, but I can swim out, get beat up by the waves, and do it all over again, without having to pay some kid to watch and laugh at me while I do it (I am sure there were plenty of them laughing at me for free). So, even though our lessons weren’t that productive, we still gave it our best, and went out every day for about a week… until, the infamous ear infection. Apparently, there is a dirty river, loaded with the trash and refuse of countless villages from the inner regions of El Salvador, which flows directly into the sea at El Tunco. When I say “apparently”, you may think that we didn’t know about it, but we did- it runs through the middle of town, and you have to gingerly jump across it on your way to the surf spot. What we didn’t know, is that when you spend a lot of time surfing in waters contaminated by rivers such as this, you are at high risk to get a common ailment called: surfer’s ear. Well, if getting surfer’s ear means you are a surfer, then Kacey is the surfing champion of El Salvador! She got a terrible infection that hurt and throbbed constantly. The cheap eardrops we picked up at the local pharmacy didn’t do the trick, and by the time we realized this, it had already gotten much worse. A trip to the doctor, new eardrops, some anti-biotic pills, and $20 later, Kacey’s ear was right as rain.
With a few more days of surfing under our belts, albeit not quite the beginner waves we were looking for, we decided that it was time to be moving on. We packed up the truck, strapped the surfboards on top, and headed inland to San Salvador.
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