Abrams Family World Travel

Canoa Beach: Operation Clean-up

IT’S only when you begin cleaning a beach that you realise how dirty it is.

At first glance the long, golden stretch of sand that extends along the coast past Canoa looks beautiful. But it is relentlessly bombarded by forceful waves and anything tossed into the ocean inevitably ends up on the shore.

The biggest culprits, it seems, are those who come to use the beach. One afternoon we armed ourselves each with a plastic bag and set off to reduce the mess. Within minutes and metres of leaving our hotel, our bags were full.

In truth, we could have filled several bin-liners easily and not even scratched the surface. We found items such as empty oil containers, tooth brushes, plastic bottles and lids, glass bottles, broken glass, paper wrappers, medicine bottles, shoes, polystyrene, straws etc and took them along to the far end of the beach, to a hostal called Bambu.

One morning at Bambu, while having breakfast, we saw a sign which offered a free cocktail for each full bag of litter. So we traded in our bags for a fruit juice each. We were happy just to clean up, though, as a way of saying thank you to the beach for allowing us to enjoy it. And we’ve decided in future to spend at least a day cleaning any new beach we visit – or, if we are staying long-term, take a day a week to help reduce the mess.

It’s astonishing the local restaurant owners and residents don't make more of an effort to keep the beach clean – after all, it’s their livelihood at stake!

Although we did see cleaners in operation on Monday, after the weekend when it's busier, a more intense clean-up schedule is required.

It seems the people live for the moment – which, generally, isn’t a bad thing, but in this instance is short-sighted. And despite our efforts to make a difference, the beach at Canoa will only ever stay – or become - clean if the people who visit start to care more.

Canoa: A tale of a mutilated tree that fell in love

In the small village of Canoa, off the coast of the Pacific ocean in Ecuador, a beautiful tree with an immense root called Samango, grew for 15 years next to the Muchacho River. The crown of the tree had the look of a rasta (reggae) with an afro. Immense and once mature, Samango was cut down into little pieces with a chainsaw by wood hunters. 

Samango screamed and remained a mutilated trunk without head or feet. 

Then he started to feel angry and thought, ‘I won’t stay here in this spot anymore. I will make my dream journey before dying of madness. Now I will change the horizon of my life and travel the Pacific’. 

What luck he had. 

The warm current El Niño arrived in Canoa (ten years ago) with all the force of an earthquake. And Samango said with all his fury, “Now I am going to shake the earth here to get rid of my prison.” So his trunk left the ground that had been absorbing him in the sandy mud. 

Samango laughed in the middle of the earthquake and said, ‘I will learn to swim, taste seawater and meet the fishes…it doesn’t matter where I will arrive’. 

While the earthquake destroyed many cement houses in Canoa, Samango took advantage of the first waves from the Muchacho River. The mutilated trunk transformed himself into a surfer and floated from the mouth of the river into the ocean. 

The sea travel started without problems.

The first spot Samango arrived to was the Cave of Love (La Cueva del Amor) near the river Canoa. In that intimate place he learned to love himself. Through his self-love he attracted a serpent, an enormous boa (Anaconda) that lived in the cave. She fell in love with Samango. 

Anaconda mounted the trunk of Samango and there she remained, watching the fishing village of Canoa. Happy with his new life, Samango floated towards the Mangroves (Manglares), where at first glance a young puma saw him and ran away back into the rain forest. But then the big brown cat looked back with her burning eyes. She liked the energy of Samango’s body. 

Samango continued his trip into the Pacific with his two lovers, surfing the waves of the silver blue sea assisted by El Niño, passing the river Canoa and going into the open sea in the opposite direction of the village of Briceño. 

During this journey Samango was surfing the waves, chatting with dolphins, pelicans, flying fishes and the humpback whale. Swimming near the mouth of the river Estero Cruzado, he met a seal (foca) that embraced him in his middle. 

So the former tree was with his lovers and full of happiness. He wanted to return with his lovers to the Cave of Love to look for shade and have more pleasure. But that was no longer possible. El Niño had increased the level of the sea so high that the Cave of Love was submerged. 

Samango began to feel sad. He couldn’t return to that beautiful place, discover life with his lovers and share dignity. He remained bathing on the border of the sea for almost 10 years in the mouth of the Estero Cruzado, hoping for a new trip towards the ocean. 

After these years, the fisherman of Canoa had compassion for Samango because he was often knocked down by the little fishing boats (pangas) when they returned daily from the open sea. Samango also got sick after swallowing too much salt water in those 10 destitute years. Anaconda, with the other lovers, also wanted to step on to the earth at the beach. 

The fishermen discussed what to do and decided to take Samango with Anaconda, Puma and Seal sitting on him. They arrived at the beach with the trunk in front of their houses in the village of Canoa. Samango remained there, in a beautiful spot beyond the palm trees on the border of the beach, protected by families of Canoa after many years wandering in the middle of nowhere. 

EL DESCANSO DE SAMANGO: A mutilated tree that fell in love and relived in Canoa, by Harrie Derks (edited in English for fluidity by us).

 

Samango now stands in front of the Hostal Posada Olmito, owned by Harrie, a friendly and welcoming Dutchman, on the beachfront in Canoa.

Puerto Lopez: Jewel and the junk

Larger in size than Montañita, Puerto Lopez is also cleaner – marginally. It’s a fishing village, though, and the pungent aroma of sea creatures fills the air.

Given we don’t eat fish and prefer to self-cater, the food market – lacking in variety, quality average, no coconuts or avocados, both of which have been abundant elsewhere – was somewhat disappointing.

For eating out, the choices seemed fewer than in Montañita. 

However, there is a real jewel in this village: Hosteria Mandála. The accommodation, which has been there about a decade and was started from scratch by its Italian (a real character from Milan) and Swiss (Basel) co-owners who met in the Galapagos Islands, is extensive and tastefully decorated.

There is a library, music room, games room (every board game you can think of) and even a whale museum of sorts. It is child-friendly with many great wooden toys, puzzles, games and even beach playthings, there’s a restaurant, cactus garden, herb garden, hammock areas everywhere and wonderful plants attracting butterflies and humming birds. Also, there’s wifi, but it didn’t extend to the rooms, but Mandála has a wonderfully comfortable lounge where you can relax with your computer if necessary.

The beach, though, was not up to scratch. It extends right in front of and beyond the hotel, but is not as clean as in Montañita (watch out for the small, but stinging jelly fish that sometimes get washed ashore). A short walk along the beach in each direction from Mandala is lots of litter, food, dead birds and even washed-up turtles.

Sadly, it seems as if no one has made it their job to keep the beach anywhere near immaculate. Mandála was beautiful - and the staff very helpful - but the surroundings a let-down. 

By the time our four-day stay was over we were happy to move on. We set off north towards Bahia and then Canoa. It’s an ordeal. We started by bus, then changed buses after 2.5 hours, took a bicycle tuc-tuc ($1) from the bus stop in Bahia to the harbour, a boat across the water to San Vicente and then a taxi (for $5) to Canoa. On the map it didn’t seem like it would take long, but door-to-door the journey required around six hours by public transport.