A challenge

In my entry below I said I was about to head to Solentiname, a rempote archipelago of islands in Lago de Nicaragua.

Well, things change.

We decided to stay on the beautiful Pacific coast of Nicaragua for a couple of days, giving me time to plan a personal challenge and piss fart some more.

For a couple of days I trained for my challenge. What did my regime involve? Mainly bodysurfing, swimming and walking.

What was the challenge? We were staying in a small bay that had little surf. The two beaches at the place we were staying were separated by a large craggy point. I swam out to sea at each beach and scoped out the challenge. I figured the point was 200m long and 100m wide at the narrow tip. I figured that the distance from sand to sand, beach to beach was about 500m on low tide. I figured.

The following morning after I had digested my breakfast of rice, beans, eggs, coca cola and oreos with peanut butter I put on my black speedos and my black goggles.

The tide was low, the water still and the sky grey. I was ready and quietly confident that I could meet my challenge. I have done my share of ocean swimming, surfing and stupid things. Sure, I was ready.

Eliot watched as I walked to the waters edge and swam into the distance. The swim out to the point was long, but not difficult. I was swimming at an even pace with steady breathing as the water became a darker blue and then navy grey. Almost as I rounded, perhaps 20 minutes into my swim I saw a bird dive into the water at speed, wings in a W shape.. Out it came not more than a second later with fish in mouth. I have never been scared of things in the water, but just for that second my heart slowed and I felt dizzy. Then hunt and kill that unfolded in front of me ´was followed by scary projected images in my mind’s cinema. I shook it off and settled back into my rhythm and swum further toward the point.

My goggles were very dark, mirrored on the outside. I was finding it difficult to see as I neared the open water. As I swum nearer to the rocks the water beneath me became more turbulent. It was not choppy, nor was there swell. Rather, the water beneath me felt as if it was shifting in a tectonic fashion. It moved me meters at a time toward the barnacled black rock and then out to sea. The preferred direction of pull was of course, out to sea.

As I rounded the point, the last few meters took many strokes, I realized that my narrow point was in fact a whole other bay made up only of a only a rock shelf. No problem, just another couple of hundred meters to swim.

I swam a few strokes and then, as one of the movements of water shifted me toward the rock shelf, I felt a broad punch to my stomach and chest. I didn’t hurt, so I swam on. There was a mass of water moving in and out from the newly discovered bay that was enough to keep me in one spot for ten minutes of solid swimming. I had not really moved anywhere. I flipped over onto my back to look at my stomach. I had been washed onto a rock that was just below the surface. I had not seen it beneath the water. Goggles too dark. The cuts were not threatening but for some reason I became fearful.

I have never felt out of control in the water before. Not that I can recall. Remembered the fishing bird. I thought of big things in the darkness below me. I could not see sand anywhere, only wet rock. Fear is a powerful emotion. I felt energy drain from me like rice from a slashed sack. I felt like a speck. I felt vulnerable. I did not panic, I was confident in my abilities to get back to sand safely. I had not entered into a challenge that was beyond my means. I was however, beaten. I floated for a few minutes, swallowed my pride along with a gallon or so and made my way back around the point. I spotted Eliot and a couple of friends standing on the point in the distance, I swam to the rocky edge and carefully made my way out of the water.

As I walked toward them, although defeated I was happy. Better that I tried and failed than never tried at all, isn’t that what we are meant to say? I inspected my cuts. Extensive but fine.

I walked the rest of the way around the bay to my destination. My heart would not slow. I kept looking back at my challenge. Dozens of ¨if only I had…¨ scenarios flicked through my buzzing brain.

If I would have stayed at that place longer, I could have done it. Although that is my ego talking, he promises me that he tells the truth and nothing but the truth. This time at least.

That night we around a bonfire on the beach toasting marshmallows and talking about socialism, pineapples, happiness, German engineering, steak, Scandinavian currencies and of course, how cool fire is.

Then, in the morning we surfed and left for Solentiname.

The essentials















Walking back around the point
















Could have been a kitten













The point (Thanks to Eliot for the awesome pic)