Crossing the border, surf trips and help with research?

 

A bit of background: a couple of years ago I stepped back from commercial shaping for mostly health reasons (okay, the post-Clark/massive imports context didn't help either). Now its just a wood board from time to time, mostly balsa, which is great by me at present.

 

So, I took the occasion to go back to school. Masters, check – Cormac McCarthy's western novels were a good way to spend two years. The opportunity then arose to continue on with my PhD – focusing on border issues, and more particularly the cultural hybridity that exists along the border. Which brings us to the real point of this post.

 

Among other things, I'm looking into the role of the border and the proximity with Mexico in the development of 'surf culture' – a term that I don't always like, but that's another story.

 

Growing up in San Diego, the early trips down to La Fonda or Popotla were massively important. Rosarito beach break, the reefs, you get the idea. Good surf, obviously, but way more than than that. Escape from the drinking age rules 'back home', the occasional craziness, but also learning Spanish, the food, the colors, the music, friends that married down south, etc.

 

I'd like to hear from anyone about their experiences – what motivated them, what the returns were (either social, personal, material). I remember the roles of certain things we'd bring back, from sandals to blankets to tequila, both as objects that showed we'd been, and as conversation openers at various spots.. The time frame that I'm focusing on primarily spans from the forties through the seventies, but I'm curious about the changes in recent years as well.  Who first started making Baja runs and when? Length of stays? Frequency? How were the runs viewed at different periods... by those making them, by their peers, by the police or the federales... the fishermen.

 

If we can keep it non-politicized, I'm sure that a thread would make a great read.

 

I'd also like to communicate with people via mp's, e-mails, letters or phone calls, whatever is easiest for you. If you know anyone who was making the early trips, please put them in touch with me if they're willing to talk about their experiences. Even answers to a couple of basic questions would be great help. Drop me a message and we can take it from there. I'm of the opinion that those of us lucky enough to have experienced those trips across the border (even though most of mine were eighties and nineties) were really onto something special – something worth delving into a bit more.

 

What can I offer in return? My thanks and appreciation? Good tips or a hearty welcome should you make it to Southwest France? An excellent bottle or two of Bordeaux (or Margaux, or Saint Emilion...) for the next Sways gathering? I hoped I might get you on that last one.

 

Moderators: I know its not directly surf-craft related, but I'd much rather talk with those here than theorize on the subject with well-intentioned academic folk who have neither surfed nor crossed the border in person. If the post is moved, or changed, or closed if it gets out of hand as border discussions can – no worries.

Send me a bottle of Margaux or I will delete this post…

Hey Jeffrey

Haveing grown up in southern California and liveing as far south as Imperial Beach.

I have only ventured into Mexico maybe 5 or six times.

as I recall ... back in the 70"s , as a kid, going to mexico was an adventure and all fun with a tad bit of scaryness.

as a young man it was cool to go down there and party.

As a grown man with the knowledge of years of life under my belt, and knowing what the currant events are, along with first hand expereances.

I hesatate to venture into Mexico. It is a very unpredictable place at this time.

 

Ken, thanks for the quick response. 

I hate to say it but I agree with you completely - unpredictable is a well-chosen word.

Mind if I pm you a few questions next week as I get things rolling?

Thanks again,

Balsa - consider a bottle on its way.  Just don’t tell me you want an '86 or a 2000… or a '47 for that matter. Mathilde won’t like it if we’re reduced to eating potatoes for months to come…

Ahhh Mexico, adventure at so many levels!    Sneaking to TJ, at age 14, to buy that forbidden delight, firecrackers!!   In later years surfing and diving at 38K, and other spots with no names at the time.   I've most enjoyed the fishing, out of Castro's fish camp.     Yellowtail and small Tunas, on light tackle in an open Panga, is hard to beat.     Local food, from street vendors, is an adventure in its own right.   Never had a bad food experience from the street vendors.   Baja Sur and the Cabos, is really nice. Especially the seafood.    I stopped going into Mexico shortly before Sept. 11 attack.   Have not been back since then.  

It’s hard to know where to begin.  I've been on so many surf trips to Baja.  There are so many memories.  It's said that I don't feel safe to go down there anymore.  Lots of camping trips to K58, San Miguel, and Salsipuedes.  Four wheeling adventures around San Qintin, Punta Canoas, and the Seven Sisters area.  Took a chance once and paid for a plane ride out to Isla Natividad.  Ended up getting great hurricane swell waves, surfed with Taylor Knox, and ate some killer abalone ceveche.

Here's one story...

We drove down to Mexico the evening before.  We pulled into the campground at San Miguel, put up a tent and went to sleep.  We were in the car again the next morning before it was light.  We drove into town and headed for the wharf.  A guy directed us into a small fenced in parking lot, and took five dollars.  His friends grabbed our surfboards, and carried them down to the docks.  We gave them a few bucks for a tip.  Another guy came over to us and offered to take us out to the island in his ponga.  He said $120 for the day.  There were four of us, so we gathered the money together and paid him.

So far so good...

It took about an hour to motor out to the island.  As soon as we left the harbor we could feel the ground swell hitting the boat.  I chuckled to myself when I looked at the anchor sitting in the boat.  It was a bent piece of rebar that was threaded through a cinder block.  I was a little nervous, because I didn't want the waves to be too big.  I had been out there before, and knew the potential power of this spot. 

When we got out there we saw one other boat, but no one was in the water yet.  Our boat driver whistled to the driver of the other boat, who returned the whistle.  He set his anchor, and we began to suit up.  The waves looked great.  There was almost no wind; the sets were about three feet overhead, and pealing nicely.

We all jumped in the water, and paddled over to the peak.  The water was crystal clear, and you could hear the boulders on the bottom clunking into each other as the waves moved over them.  The first wave is always the most difficult.  It's all about commitment.  You just have to stand up and go.  The water is so clear it’s hard to see the surface of the water from the top of the wave.  It looks like you are just going to drop in right down onto the boulders.

We surfed for a few hours, and had some great waves.  The wind started to pick up and so did the swell.  When it was time to paddle back I noticed that the boat was in a different position.  Everyone got into the boat, and started putting on dry cloths.  Someone noticed that we were drifting.  The driver pulled in the anchor, and we noticed that the cinder block had fallen off of the line.  We were heading straight for the rocky shore where big waves were crashing.  The driver went to start the motor, which had a pull string starter.  He made one yank and the whole rope came out of the motor.  He then opened the motor and began winding the string back on the real.  He did another yank, and the same thing happened.  After a couple more times of this it became apparent that the motor was not going to start before we hit the rocks.  We were getting so close to the shore it was getting scary.

We hailed the other boat over, and they threw us a line.  They towed us to the other side of the island, and we tied up to a buoy.  The other boat driver hopped into our boat, and tried to help get the motor started.  He removed the spark plug, and made the determination that it was the cause of the problem.  He said that carbon had built up, and needed to be burned off.  He then filled a cup with gasoline, and lit it on fire.  The flames were too much for him to hold so he dropped the cup.  Now, the whole back half of the boat was on fire.  We were about to abandon ship, but luckily they were able to stomp out the fire.

The motor was eventually started, and we headed back to port.  Safe and sound, and another successful Baja run completed.

 

“Send me a bottle of Margaux or I will delete this post…”

Phaahhahahahttahahhttt - and spit on my screen… Now that’s some classic stuff…

Great story Swied.

My trips to Baja Norte were limited to a hand full, and relatively uneventful.  What I’ll say struck me the most was the poverty/lack of worldly creature comforts many lived with.  Oh, and the young men in green with M-16’s all over the place - made me glad I had nothing to hide.  Granted, camp surf trips with young kids, at the time, late 80’s, early 90’s, made us look like pretty mellow guys.  The surf was fun, but the cultural experience was eye opening.  The other ecological trip was 110degrees on the beach in the summer, and while a days drive north I’d been trunking it, now I had my full suit on, as the water was COLD, some thing about the So.Cal. bight eddy, etc… Ha!

Good luck with the PhD.  How’d you end up in France?

Swied, Classic story! That explains Mexico in so many ways. Kings of the mouse-rigs.

Thanks for the responses thus far - exactly the kind of thing that I’m looking for at present.    Swied, your story captures perfectly that sense of… unpredictability every time we crossed.  We just never know exactly how things would turn out.

Any other stories out there?

Reasons why you first went? Apprehensions? Friends who stayed? I have a couple of friends who married girls in Rosarito, for example, though both are now back Stateside - one still married and one divorced.

I’ll relate a quick one.  When my brother got his drivers license (I was still 14 or 15) we became adepts of the “Mom, we’re staying at …'s house” story and beelined for the borded as often as possible.  My brother has a way of blending in and making friends pretty much anywhere.  So one evening, we found ourselves in a side-street bar drinking tequila with ranch-hands and mariachis.  A great evening.

But the kicker came when we made our way back to my brother’s 4-Runner.  No back seats made a great place to sleep it off.  But my buddy was determined to crash on the beach instead.  As I was going to sleep (you can read passing out if you prefer) we heard him calling out “Its just like a blanket you guys.” I wasn’t going out to investigate, so choose the simple option of the truck bed.

In the morning I found him wrapped up in a bunch of pretty odiferous kelp.  Hung over, covered in sand fleas, and with a mouth half full of sand, to boot.

Well I live down here for 4-6 months a year and you shouldn’t come its scary and the waves where destroyed by the cartels. In all honesty its no more dangerous here than in many parts of the states unless you are a narco. This year the only time I was scared was a meth head trying to rob me in Tucson. That place is was sketchier than mex. I have driven through every part of this counttry except mexico city area.

My first time through mex was after my first surf at Galvaston beach. We loaded up the car and drove across the country and surfed in saylulita. After a big party night in vallarta I woke up in my car in a locked parking garage and it was about 95 degrees with a nice hangover I guess my bros met some chicas and left me in the car. It took me 3 hours to get a guard to let me out.

first time in Rosarito my buddy passed out on the beach with his pants down and I found him there the next morning. I saw a cop there and he said he fined him for indescent exposure but didn’t arrest him bc he smelled bad. The cops buddy poured sand in his butcrack while he was sleeping. LOL

Don’t believe Fox News!

Many thanks to those who have shared their stories, both here and via PM (thanks, Bill, for the dyslexia cure). 

Anyone else? From border crossings to shakedowns to camping out?

I go to Mexico about once a month for a week. Normally I fly there however my last trip I had a driver take me over the border. My Mexican friends did the driving and I had the driver bring me back over the border. I use to drive in Tijuana however I take the safe approach these days especially near the border towns. Deeper south I feel a bit safer than along the border. I speak Spainish and wear casual clothes with no watch. Keep low key and everything will normally be OK. Avoid drawing attention to yourself and you will have a great time. If you love to eat you will never run out of things to try.

 

One story that comes to mind:

About 5 years ago on the way back from Scorpion Bay some cops stopped us for speeding and demanded $300.00 to let us go. Well we had our families with kids with us so I told the cops in Spanish that I could only give them $100 bucks because our kids were hungry and we needed to feed them. Plus I told them that GOD is watching them and sees everything they do. They let us go after I slip them a C NOTE. We were only 5 miles over the speed limit.

Kind regards,

surfding

Speaking spanish is a big help when it comes to the police asking for a supplement to their pay.