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Agua Mala

9/12/2015

BY J.D. HAGER

Saturday ~ September 1, 2001

Donny and Eric meet us at the airport in Zihaut. They have already been in Mexico a week and have lined up everything, including a taxi with a cargo rack on the roof. Brad and I attach our board bags with twine and nylon and we make the hour or so drive to Nexpa. The surf is flat when we arrive, but the beer is almost cold.

Sunday ~ 9/2

The point is too small, so we hike down the beach and wade across the rivermouth. We find some nice sand bars around the corner, and waves just big enough to ride. After about two and a half waves I brush against something as I’m paddling and feel the sting throttling my fingers. Soon others are stung and we realize there is a massive flotilla of jellies overwhelming the beach. We drift back to shore carefully, trying to paddle without touching the water. The locals call the jellyfish the agua mala, and say sometimes it lasts for a week or more.

Fear and Loathing in California

9/7/2015

BY STAFF

Dude tells me to call him Dude. It may be his actual name but I can’t be certain. The word dude constitutes about fifty percent of his spoken vocabulary. Dude is wearing a shirt that says Stoned with a picture of rocks on it, like no duh. Having a conversation with Dude is like speaking to an echo. There is a five second delay between the question and response, and usually he just repeats the question back with a slightly altered emphasis. Dude may have hearing loss or terminal brain damage or both, his synapses clogged with resin and his ears stuffed with gummi bears.

“Well, Dude,” I tell him, “you can’t loiter here,” and he gives me a blank stare punctuated by squints and blinks. It takes a few seconds for things to filter into his auditory process, draining slowly between the charcoal and other crispy obstructions in his brain.

Agua Mala

Fear and Loathing in California

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