... to the end of the world

Today we left for Monkey Point.  We are developing a partnership with a dude that lives there, Pito, who wants to set up an eco-tourism business where he brings backpackers or other tourists from Bluefields to Monkey Point to explore the native community, get to know about the way the people there live, and maybe spend some money in the local economy.  My job on this trip to Monkey Point was to gather as much information about what he has in mind for this mini-business, and to simultaneously take notes as a first-time tourist visiting the place.

Well, the first obstacle was actually getting there.  Monkey Point is located south of Bluefields on the pacific coast of Nicaragua as well.  The easiest way to get there is by boat, since roads don't really exist outside of the confines of Bluefields itself.  Now, when I say boat, I don't mean a nice big power-ferry that churns up the water and gets you there in five seconds.  I mean a little hollowed out canoe-type thingy with a motor stuck on the back.  Like this one...  We piled the boat high with all our stuff, and set off on a wild, wet adventure.

Navigating the ocean waves is not an easy task when they're looming twice as high as the side of the boat.  For 4.5 hours, the driver at the back of the boat had to speed up, slow down, angle into or out of a wave, and simultaneously attempt to actually get us closer to our destination.  We were all sitting on little wooden planks wedged into the boat, soaked to the bone because of the splashing about, and taking turns bailing out the water that threatened to sink us.  At one point I noticed a bamboo plug that had been stuck into a hole in the bottom of the boat, and decided it was probably better if I didn't ask if there were others like it.

Nevertheless, we arrived at our destination in one piece.  Granted, we were sore, soaking, cold, and a little miserable... but that's just the way things are out here.