What if it were your break, and you understood better than anyone how invaluable raw, bountiful wilderness left alone in the middle of the Pacific is? Would you watch it degrade and eventually disappear, or would you do everything you can with everything you’ve got to protect it?
Vicente’s F-150 flies over the busted cobblestone streets of northern Baja and lands with a thud.
He accelerates again, navigating every crack and crevice with expert maneuverability and utter nonchalance, like it was any old day, any regular outing to his local break. But it’s not. It’s 4am, pitch black, and eerily empty. We’re headed to the marina before dawn. The harbor master deemed the building swell too dangerous for smaller vessels, but Vicente knows a guy who knows a guy who’s willing to sneak us out early for a couple thousand pesos, as long as we pay upfront— cash only— say nothing to no one, and don’t bitch if he drops a line along the way.
Like most of my experiences in Mexico, the risk to reward ratio is pretty skewed. Uncrowded waves in the 25’+ range with perfect offshore conditions can play a powerful, tantalizing role in one’s mind. Getting caught, however, could mean an unwanted run-in with the federales, revoked permits, fines, and possibly even jail time. Non gracias.
Enter your email address,
and get an instant sign-in link.
Already have an account? Sign in