Home.

Now that the dust has literally settled from our Costa Rica trip and the 30+ rolls of super-16 is back and logged I had some time to get some photo's that I took developed. I shot these with an old medium format twin-lens Yashica camera. I'm really appreciating film these days. I'm a total technology dork. I new Nikon D series camera comes out, I want it. New macbook pro just released? I'm already in line. This whole project has made me take a step back and look into the beauty of things, especially film. The natural texture, the colors and the fact that I did nothing to these photos after I scanned them is amazing.

'Round she goes.

A big part of this trip was to bring the re-shape of the "pawn shop special" into the water. We really had a vision of passing it around at a really fun beachy. Just catching a few a waves, passing it on to the next guy and so on. Just a rotation of fun- if it even worked...
Well, Chris did a pretty fine job. I think it's safe to say that it was the most fun had on the trip.
If you haven't been following along, the black stubby was a 7-something 1968-ish Hobie transitional that went like doggy dung.

Charlie and his angels.

The wind never stopped. Out of pure frustration I was willing to do anything. We packed our hotel room as if we were making the trek back to San Jose. I made a call to the ever elusive Joe Walsh at Witch's Rock Surf Camp. I've never met Joe, only talked to him and emailed him. Notes from him have even been left at the hotel, but never a face to face meeting. We're calling him Charlie now, and we're his angels that he sends on missions. I was planning on driving strait to Hermosa and posting up for the remaining 3 days. Charlie said we should have a look at a beach midway there and two hours out of the way. I was skeptical but figured what the heck? It can't get much worse, right? After 3 hours off the beaten path the ocean was still not in sight. The wind was honking still and the frustration in the van that we dubbed "the white rhino" was felt throughout.
Another hour later we made it- Not before charging the white rhino through a river. We made it. This is where the fun of a surf trip comes in. An empty lineup with not a person in sight. Perfect A-frames lined the black sand beach. It was all ours.


The White Rhino. from High Seas Films on Vimeo.

Blowin a gale.

Last night it felt as if our roof was going to blow off. 35 knot offshores with gusts exceeding 55 knots. Trees were down, power and phone lines out, tin and palm roofs gone and completely unsurfable waves. Small cars, cows and perros were mixing with the dust storm blowing down the street. The locals are saying this is strongest wind in over 4 years... Hope it dies- the forecast isn't looking promising.

Hola! Ammigars.

Well, here we are- our last trip for Picaresque. Our first day in Costa Rica went like this: 7 hour drive North from San Jose, a roof rack breaking, an hour drive down a dirt road that lead to nothing but a flowing river and a few chupacabra's of the night. We made it to our destination in the north in the late hours of the night. The next morning we were all itching to get the airplane funk and our 7 hour van ride off of us. Here's a little sample of the first day's gold. Peeling offshore perfection.

A big thanks goes out to Joe Walsh of Witch's Rock Surf Camp and to Cabinas Las Olas for making this trip possible!