The Bros do Rio San Juan

“I’m telling you guys this feels like the beginning of the Hangover, you know what I mean?” Those were the first words I heard as I met up with my buddies at the bus terminal this past weekend. Just judging from this picture, he had a point. Four buddies, dressed sharp for a weekend out of site*, rocking shades, and excited to party. And while San Carlos doesn’t have the same nightlife and quality of women as Las Vegas, that didn’t stop us from having an unforgettable (or for some of forgettable) weekend exploring old Spanish castles, fishing out of canoes, looking for girls (that weren’t in fact high school students), and plenty of Nicaraguan Rum. 

Our Host with the Most

The reason for our trip down to San Carlos was the Torneo de Pesca Internacional , or Fishing Tournament. I say down, because San Carlos is at one of the southern most points of the country, where the Lake Nicaragua funnels into the Rio San Juan, and exits into the Caribbean Sea. Fun fact about the Rio San Juan is that it is a highly contested border dispute (one of many in the world actually) between Costa Rica and Nicaragua. Both countries claim the river as their own, and supposedly in the upcoming year, the case will be brought before the International Court System. Crazy, right? Anyway, the Rio San Juan boasts a big population of Sabaldo Real, or Tarpon, and every year on the Nica independence days (for 52 years now), the town holds a fishing tournament, that draws in people from all over North and central America. The Tarpon is a monster trophy fish, and sort or reminds me of a Stripe Bass…but bigger. This year the winner was a Guatemalan who pulled in a 130 pound tarpon that was actually bigger in length than he was tall!

Our fishing adventure was a little less extreme due to lack of resources. Instead of 20 foot center consoles or pangas with a motor, we paddled 12 foot canoes, and instead of legit rods with reels, we had three foot long branches, stripped down, with a few feet of fishing line and a hook. No reeling in for us, just a sharp flick upwards, in which you hoped to literally throw the fish into the boat with. Our hooks were way to big for the “river monsters” we were dangling for: mostly scup or sunny like fish no bigger than 6-7 inches. But I would dare to say that we had much more fun than any of those chumps who paid to enter the tournament. Out of the 7 of us, 3 or 4 had never fished before, and a few had never entered or paddled a canoe. So there was a lot of learning by experience that day, and every 20 minutes or so, the quiet chatter or silence would be broken by a shout of happiness or joy. One of the new guys would pull in another fish. We were burnt to a crisp and dehydrated by the time we docked the canoes, but were full of grins and aspirations of paddling the entire length of the river after our successful trip dropping lines along the Rio.

The other noteworthy (and appropriate to tell) adventure was our trip down river to El Castillo. El Castillo is a small community about 60 km down river that holds an old Spanish castle up on the hillside that was used to defend the Spanish colonies in Nicaragua from pirates during the 17^th and 18^th centuries. Strategically placed next to rapids, any pirates that ventured that far up river would’ve been sitting ducks, blown to smithereens. But what you notice almost immediately upon docking (it’s only accessible by boat), is that there are no motor vehicles. Not one. The Main Street is no bigger than what we would consider a back alley, and that’s what it felt like to be honest. But the pictures below can do better justice to it than I can, so enjoy. Next weekend, off to El Crucero for an In-Service training with the whole small biz gang!

*Remember, our wardrobes are pretty limited down here. This was about as “sharp” as we can get. One of the most quoted phrases down here is, “I can’t wait to be back home, so I can have some style again.”