DAY ONE OF NEXPA! This is my second time venturing into the central Pacific coast of Mexico, searching for surf nirvana. Many of my former brethren have talked of lazy days of summer, lounging in a hammock on the point at Nexpa, staring out at the machine factory wave pumping down the line. Now I get to stay here for more than just a single day, as was the case in my previous trip. Act two of three acts starts today, starts on this paddle out. Before I can get into the water, strange fate chooses me to prove that there are odd synchronicities in this world. Only days before, while sitting on the plane reading a surf magazine, I thumbed through an article about a young pro surfer who's estranged father lives somewhere in Mexico. Well, here he is, living four cabanas down, offering me a gigantic handful of greenery as I stroll down the beach. Evidently Michoacan is the "Humboldt" of Mexico in terms of, well, if you don't know by that reference, never mind. He immediately tells me a story about the best wave of his life, a ten second barrel. Guess where? Yep, he has camped at the point break where earlier in the trip I had scored the best waves of my life. It was odd and mind bending to be talking with this man I have never known. I felt as if I did know him because the article had discussed many of his personal family issues, including the estrangement of his 22-year-old son, who is a professional surfer entering the prime of his career. It was like meeting Denzell Washington's character from the movie "He Got Game". In that film, Washington plays the father of Jesus Shuttlesworth who is a rising basketball star. But he was once the rising star and then he loses everything, including a relationship with his son. The article labels Miguel as an expatriate with a fiery temper. Skinny as a rail, maybe five foot seven, Miguel drinks a quart of beer and smokes a cigarette as we chat about Nexpa and all things important.


It seems quiet and meditative on the north end of the beach. Soon I meet another new friend, Jose Alberto, a hardworking young man, barely twenty, with a baby boy and a pregnant wife. He takes care of the cabanas among other jobs around the area. My chopped up Spanish is perfectly acceptable to him, and we carry on a friendly conversation with much more concentration on my part. Little Jose Alberto Jr. is crying and looking at his finger which has a green clothespin stuck to it. Dad removes the clothespin and the crying stops instantaneously. Like a dimmer switch, parents seem to be able to turn down a crisis situation from critical to A-OK. Billy is already gearing up for session number one, so I put aside my journal and book, pull on the most salt-drenched, crispy, nasty pair of surf trunks that I can find, put wax to board. My heart rate begins to increase in synch with my excitement. Nexpa is such a different wave than Mexpipe and the other point break we surfed earlier in the trip. Here a cobblestone bottom contours perfectly at the terminus of a great river, creating a long and consistent wave that is like an oceanic playground. Cutbacks, long drawn out bottom turns, and floaters are possible on each wave that forms here. This is in opposition with surfing Mexpipe where most waves were pure survival for me. Pick wisely, paddle like hell for a peak, pull off a must-make, gnarly drop, go straight into the barrel and hope that neither myself nor my board are broken in half in the aftermath.

ER Harris