Canoa

All I can say is the weekend was extreme. It was another beach weekend, but while the last beach weekend was quiet, low-key and relaxing, this one was really none of those things.

Fourteen of us met at a terminal in Quito at about 10:30 on thursday night to hop on a night bus to a little town called Canoa. Like most bus rides at night. It was not very comfortable. It was dark, someone brought a baby that cried occasionally, the driver played music and sang along to it, and blasted the A/C to an uncomfortably cold temperature. I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep, though I did doze a little between the hours of 5 and 6 in the morning. But overall, not fun.

We arrived at a little town called Bahia, where we got off the bus, and walked with our bags to a river, where we paid thirty cents a piece to pile into a canoe and go across the river. There we got off at a town called San Vicente, where we got on another bus that took us into Canoa. Finally, we got off in Canoa and walked down the road until we found our hostel. It was a very pretty place, with a two stories and an attic, hammocks, an open-air kitchen, an a variety of wooden tables and chairs in an open air, large grass covered hut. We were only a thirty second walk from the beach. We were incredibly hungry from the bus ride, so after asking permission, I hopped in the kitchen and whipped up some pancakes. Finally, after eating and cleaning up, we headed to the beach.

We spent the day generally just hanging out. Two guys rented surf board, one experienced, one not so much, and hit the waves. We all swam, or sat out on the beach, or laid out, or read. It was very relaxing. Everyone had brought a variety of snacks and sandwich foods, so we ate lunch at our leisure. At about midday, three of the guys and I decided we would take a walk down the beach. We had heard about some caves you could walk to, and we decided to try to find them. Our walk brought us to an outcropping of rocks, which we climbed over, and then to a hill, which we scaled, despite the lack of a path, and then to another beach with a seemingly abandoned house on it. We walked to the end of the beach and climbed another outcropping of rocks. Crabs scurried away as we approached, and we laboriously searched for handholds and footholds on the otherwise smooth surface of the slanted rock wall. The surf was strong, and we had to keep ourselves on the leeward side of the large rock that jutted into the ocean, so as not to be knocked off by the spray. We could not find the caves anywhere, but there was another rock jutting up out of the water only a few yards away. We debated trying to climb it. The problem was, the waves were strong. We didn't want to be slammed up against any rocks, or swept off the big rock as we were climbing it. We made our way back into the water and swam around the large rock, looking for a way up. Finally, one of us, Paul, decided to try. We watched for waves, and yelled to him when he was clear so that he could begin his ascent. Once he was up, we all followed one at a time.

Unfortunately, the top was not as safe as we had hoped. We all found a perch to hold onto, and generally we were safe from the water, but occasionally a wave would slam against our rock, be forced upward, and hit us square in the faces. Realizing we were not entirely safe from being swept off the rock to a 3 meter drop into a rocky sea, we waited for a respite from the waves, and made our way down. Exhausted, we swam back to shore and made our way back to the hostel. The whole excursion had taken about four hours, and we were exhausted and hungry.

Our friend Eric had been making spaghetti and some of his excellent sauce, so when we got back, we all sat down to eat. It was a great meal, and not just because I was famished. That night we all went down to a bar, where I got a piña colada, and two milkshakes, and then went back to the hostel. Some people went out again, but I was exhausted, so I went to bed. The room was hot, and I was sweating. The bed was hard, and sandy, as I was. I had some remains of sunscreen on my body. But I didn't care about any of it. I dropped right off to sleep.

The next day some other people made pancakes, but I walked into town and got some delicious stuffed bread for breakfast. Afterwards, we made our way back to the hostel to see how everyone was doing. We all were sitting around, enjoying ourselves, when all of sudden everyone starting receiving warning text messages. There had been an earthquake in Chile and the whole South American coast was under tsunami watch. At first we blew it off, but the texts kept coming. People began to receive calls from friends in Quito, ecuapadres, and even their real parents about the danger. We became concerned. What should we do, we were right on the coast? It was about ten in the morning and there was a bus that left at noon that we could try to catch. We weren't sure. So, we asked around, and all the locals that we talked to told us not to worry, we were not in any danger. Our program director, after initially recommending we return, retracted and said we were safe for now. We were torn. Finally, four girls decided to leave for Quito that day. But the rest of us stayed and decided to ride it out.

At about midday I went for a walk with the same three guys from the day before, David, Tyler, and Paul. We took a long walk down the beach until we reached a little collection of buildings. We were tired, hot, and did not want to walk back. So we hiked up to the road and flagged down a bus to take us back to Canoa. That afternoon, we took a nap at the hostel, falling asleep in hammocks and chairs, to wait out the hottest part of the day.

When we woke up, we took up what had been our original plan the day before: to find the caves. But this time, we decided to take a different tact. We walked down to a place called the Surf Shack and rented two kayaks to take out into the ocean. So we dragged them out to the ocean to depart. The kayaks were two seaters: I was paired with Tyler, and David and Paul were in the other. Getting out to sea turned out to be a bit of a challenge. Tyler and I came prepared with water bottles, and I with my sunglasses. We hopped up onto the kayak and began heading out to sea. But pretty soon, we got hit with a wave, and we were flipped over. The wave took the kayak back, I lost my water bottle, and almost lost my sunglasses. David and Paul had had more success and were further out. Tyler and I grabbed the kayak, dragged it back, and hopped back on. We fought our way out to see, taking many waves head on. Our friends were watching us, but as they were, a wave came. They were unfortunately facing sideways. When they saw it, they frantically tried to paddle out of the way, but it took them and capsized their kayak as well. Tyler and I faced it head on and made it through, and finally paddled out to calmer waters, where we waited for Paul and David to catch up. The four of us began to kayak in the direction of where we thought the caves were.

We finally saw them up ahead. There were two groups of two. Tyler and I were further ahead, so we led the way, with Paul and David behind. We approached carefully. The waves were strong, and they smashed against the rock walls with great force. We didn't want to be smashed up with them. We angled for one cave, but decided that it was too hard, and quickly turned to go into another. Let me try to explain how this went. The cave we angled for did not directly receive the waves. It was built into a rock wall that jutted out, and so water from the waves flowed sideways into the cave. We waited for a wave to pass, and then paddled furiously in. Very soon, we began to see some of the dangers. When the water rose, it looked like smooth sailing. But when it dipped, a number of rocks poked out from the water. The cave also did not have any place to get out and stand, as we saw. But we had no choice, we were committed. We paddled into the cave. We did not have much control. We struggled just to keep the kayak pointed forward. If it wasn't, we would surely tip over, and that could mean losing the kayak, or worse. The cave narrowed as it went forward, until it ended in a little opening that we were not even sure the kayak would fit through. Beyond that opening all we could see was sunlight, more rocks, and more furious waves. Our options were very poor. A wave began to draw the water out of the cave. We paddled furiously just keep from being sucked away. But next came the wave, and we were thrust deeper into the cave. Somehow we kept the kayak in somewhat of a straight line, despite the rocks dotting the waterway and the rock walls closing in on us on each side.

We could hear Paul and David entering the cave behind us. The water began to suck back again as another wave took form. We were not pointed towards the opening of the exit, and if we didn't get through, Paul and David would smash into us, and we would probably tip over. We tried to right ourselves, but we couldn't in time. The wave enveloped us, knocking us off the kayak. From what I remember, I went tumbling through the water. I hit a couple of rocks as I did, which was not comfortable. I gasped, which was also not comfortable as I swallowed a mouthful of salt water. My feet found the ground and I launched myself up--only to hit something solid. My heart skipped a beat, and I was gripped by real fear. Now we all know what fear feels like, if you're walking alone at night or watching a scary movie, but this was real fear, in which for a split second my brain made real the possibility of death. It was only a brief thought, a small voice in the back of my head that was masked by both a will to survive and a feeling of disbelief. But I needed air, and something stood between me and it. I felt what it was that I was touching and realized it was the kayak. I pushed hard and found air. I gasped, only to be knocked down by another furious wave. But this time I had air in my lungs. I waited it out, and my feet found ground once again. I stood, opened my eyes, saw a beach in front of me, and sprinted for it. Another wave washed over me, but it only went waist high as I reached the safety of the beach.

I was safe. But my friends weren't. I turned to see the kayak on my side of the cave exit, but Tyler on the other side. After our first wipeout, Tyler had attached the kayak to his ankle as one would a surfboard. He was in even more danger. I saw him, and then a wave swept over him. When it receded, I couldn't see him. I yelled for him and plunged back into the water, and saw him surface briefly, take a breath, and get dragged back into the water. I tried to go in after him, but the wave swept me back to shore. I jumped up again and tried once more, to see him emerge from the water, freed from the kayak, breaking for the shore. We both stood there and waited for the kayak and oars to wash up. We grabbed them and quickly dragged them to shore.

Next came Paul and David. They were still in their kayak on the other side of the cave exit. A wave washed them through and they managed to stay on, but another wave knocked them off and swept them, their kayak, and their oars to shore. We gave them a hand and got everything to shore. We all stopped for a moment catching our breaths and looking at each other. And then, we burst out in a round of swearing and laughing as we gave each high fives for doing something so incredibly dangerous and surviving.

We looked around at where we were. We had reached a little secluded beach, which was walled in on both sides by a rock walls that jutted into the ocean. We were safe, but we quickly realized that to get out, we'd have to fight our way out on the kayaks. After resting, we grabbed our kayaks and got ready. Getting out was difficult. The waves were very strong. Paul and David jumped on their kayak immediately and tried to paddle out, but were swept off it and back to shore. Tyler and I took a different tact. We waded into the water with our kayak, and walked it out. We braced ourselves for each wave, and when we could no longer stand, we kicked. When we were out, we waited for a respite. We took a wave full in the face, and as soon as we had recovered we scrambled into the kayak, grabbed the oars, and paddled as fast and furiously as we could out towards the open ocean. We barreled through a few more waves, and finally reached the safety of the sea. We waited for the others to get out, and contemplated what to do.

There were some other caves to explore, but we had no desire to go in with the kayaks after that experience. Instead, we found a different beach to kayak to, and left the boats there. From the beach, we walked/swam through the water, braving the waves and the rocks, to get into the closest cave we could. This one had a back to it, and a solid hill of earth that had no water. As we found upon entering the cave was filled with bats flying all over the ceiling. We stood their, looking out and watching the sun set. Once it began to descend, we made our way back to the beach to get the kayaks. Fighting our way out was hard, but we were veterans at this point. We made it back into the sea. At this point the sun was gone and the remaining light was fading fast. We began to paddle out, but got separated quickly from the other two. We made for the lights on the shore, but very soon found ourselves experiencing some strong waves. The problem we had not considered was, the tide had gone out, and the waves were breaking further out than we had expected. We were swept off our kayak by a powerful wave, and in the blast, I let go of my oar. When I surfaced I looked around, but in the dark I couldn't find it anywhere. And we were quickly swept further inland by another wave. We decided just to go to shore and drag the kayak through the surf back to the Surf Shack. It would be easier.

We walked down the beach in the dark with one oar, dragging the boat, until we reached the Surf Shack. We dragged the kayak up, to find Paul and David there having just returned their kayak. We brought it in and were greeted by an American named Pete, who apparently owned it. Apparently a year and a half ago, Pete and his wife honeymooned in Canoa, Ecuador. When they were there, he saw the Surf Shack was for sale. So he bought it. He and his wife returned to the US, sold everything, and moved back to Ecuador to run the Surf Shack. He was very nice and incredibly chill. We told him about the oar, and he said with the kind it was I would have to pay $100. He apologized, even though I was the one who lost his oar, and said he understood that I didn't have the money at the moment. We exchanged information and he said that if it didn't wash up onto shore within two days he'd email me his bank account number. I could just go to the bank and deposit the money into his account in Quito. I thanked him, apologized, and returned.

I was thoroughly disappointed that I was about to be out $100, but the excursion was so much it didn't bother me too much. The oar was not all we lost. I lost my sunglasses, and Tyler and Paul both lost their hats. We met up with our friends and went out to eat dinner and explore the town a little. After a meal of sea food, we returned to the hostel to eat a dessert that Tyler made. It was basically chocolate and peanut butter on a tortilla. It was delicious. A bunch of people decided to walk down to a bar that was in the shape of a ship, but I wanted to take a walk on the beach instead. It was a nice night, and a small part of me wanted to find the oar, even though I knew realistically I wouldn't. On my way, Tyler and my friend Pam came down to the beach, and so we walked together. Pam continued to comment on how eerie the night was, and was very eager to know the source of every sound. Noting her unease, I devised a plan. At one point we began to walk quietly over the beach. I waited, and then suddenly jumped into the air, yelling "What the f***?! What the f*** was that?!" Pam screamed, and Tyler and I burst out laughing. She was not happy. She chased me around and around Tyler as he just stood their and laughed. I couldn't laugh and run, so I chose the former, and let her hit me. I probably deserved it. We walked further, and began talking about the oar that I lost. We were far out, so if we were going to find it, it was going to be now. I looked out further and thought I saw it there. I veered away from the other two and trotted up, to find I was looking at some white rocks. My heart sank. I turned to trudge back, as the fact sunk in, I wouldn't find it, and I would have to pay $100 for the oar.

But then, all of sudden, I heard Tyler yell, "Motherf***er there it is!" He and Pam began to shout excitedly, and I raced forward to see the oar lying there in the sand. I grabbed it happily and triumphantly. I was so glad! We raced back to show the others we had found it, and then went back to the Surf Shack. I returned the oar to Peter, happy that I wouldn't have to pay him any money.

The night was overall very good. We just relaxed as people went to sleep one by one. We had to be up the next day early to catch an eight o'clock bus, but everyone wanted to sleep through the eight hour bus ride, so they didn't mind staying up late. All in all, it was a great weekend. Extreme was the word that was used to describe it. With tsunami warnings, caves, and kayaking adventures, we all felt like we had braved danger and survived. Overall, it was an incredibly successful trip to one of the most beautiful places in Ecuador.