NICARAGUA – CORN ISLAND

February 5 – 12, 2024

The boarding of the airplane was the most laid back I have ever experienced. We arrived at the airport way too early, as is our habit. We were informed that we could sit in their tiny air conditioned waiting room or go to the main terminal for something to eat. We chose to go to the main terminal, where it was brutally hot. No wonder people loitered outside the building. We returned to the tiny, cool terminal.

We had to pay $2 USD as an exit tax. That was curious, because we were not leaving the country. Then we had our bags X-rayed. I forgot that I had a bottle of water, but they didn’t seem bothered. At this point we were past security, in a not so cool waiting area.

The plane was a small ATR42 holding 50 passengers. Luggage was thrown in the back and we took off. When we landed on Corn Island the plane was at the terminal 9 minutes before it was gone again. Talk about turn and burn! We gathered our luggage and shared a taxi with another girl.

Our luggage was thrown in the back of the hatchback, with the hatch wide open. We often saw people sitting in the back as well.

We told the taxi to take us to Tropical Dreams Airbnb. He asked if it was Irod’s place. Yes. That was all the information he needed. The entire island has a population of 7700 on 12.9 sq. km. (5 sq mi) Everyone knows everyone.

One of the first orders of business was to find some groceries. Irod owned a small store a short distance up the road. The pickings were real slim. As with a lot of stores in Central America, the clerk stands behind the counter and gives you the items that you want, like they did 100 years ago. There is not price comparing, mostly because there is only one type of pasta – take it or leave it.

We met a lady from Germany who had recently migrated to Paraguay. Petra tended to join us for the remainder of our stay. The next day the three of us went “downtown”. It was about a 3 km walk and very pleasant. We found a bigger store (not by much) and bought a few more things.

I wanted to inquire about scuba diving so we went to the dock. There was no diving shops there, but we met a lobster fisherman, Edgar, who offered to take Pierre out on an overnight lobster boat for free, if he was willing to pull traps. Hell yeah! In the end, it didn’t pan out because the wind was so bad all the boats were tied up – even the ferry to Little Corn Island. Many people got stuck on the other island for 3 days until the weather broke. When the lobster boat was able to go, it was leaving for 6 days. It didn’t work for our return flight.

As we were leaving the dock, a man asked if we needed help. I said we were looking for the dive shop. “Follow me! But first let me show you the jetty.” He took us out to the breakwater. We walked right to the end and he took some nice photos of us.

We passed a mural that was to commemorate the 27th of August Freedom from Slavery Day.

Then we carried on up the road where we passed the fish factory. I am not certain if it was still in operation, but the man said it used to process squid, lobster and conch, which explained the mountains of conch shells along the fence. It reminded me of the old pictures of buffalo skulls.

He pointed out different lobster traps. They are square topped, not like Canada’s domed top traps.

He pointed out, what once was, a beautiful home.

He said that the owner wanted to sell it, but before he could a hurricane pretty much destroyed it. Now the owner is trying to fix it up enough to sell. But when we looked inside, it looked like a hopeless cause.

Further along, he pointed out the destruction of the side of the road from the same hurricane that destroyed the house.

I noticed what looked like a cemetery. Indeed it was. In former times, when a family member died they just buried them in the backyard. Those were the days before the island had a proper cemetery. However, the cemetery is now full, so people are starting to get cremated. I asked if the graves were at risk from the hurricanes. “Of course!”

Just past the hostel with the laundry drying on the fence was the dive shop.

I inquired about diving options and settled on Blowing Rock. I had been told by other travellers that this was the best dive spot. It wasn’t cheap, but my reasoning was if I only get two dives in one day, I may as well pick the best. Because he needed 3 people to make the trip (it was a 45 minute boat ride out to the site) and the weather was still bad, he took my phone number and said he would call me when the weather cleared and he got 2 more people.

At this point Petra left our company and took a taxi back to the guesthouse. All taxi rides cost $1 USD (35 cordoba), regardless of where you wanted to go.

We were merrily walking along, noticing all bright colourful houses when a jeep pulled up and asked where we were going.

We told the man and he offered us a ride. We refused but he was persistent. We finally jumped into his jeep. Gus Miller said he was not going all the way to our guesthouse, but he would drop us off at Spekito’s restaurant / bar, where they had a shark tank and a nice view. Ok, sounds good, thanks for the ride.

It was indeed nice, so we had a few cocktails and enjoyed the view.

As we were leaving who is sitting there but Gus! He and his friend Vaden Downs invited us to join them. We ended up sitting with them for a few hours. We finally exchanged names. When I said my name was Irene, they both let out a groan. OMG Hurricane Irene practically destroyed the island in 2011.” They even began to sing “Goodbye Irene” a twist on “Good Night Irene”. Then Vaden said, “Well it wasn’t as bad as Hurricane Joanne. (1988)” I burst out laughing and said, “Guess what my middle name is?” (It’s Joanna, but close enough) They let out an even louder groan. They said they would both escort me to the plane to make damn sure I left.

They told us that the island does not have much to do with the mainland. When Hurricane Joanne hit, the mainland was slow in sending relief. The nearby islands all banded together and sent food, medicine, and clothes. They realized that it was only by sheer luck they were not also destroyed. Since then, a lot of the trade has been somewhat black market with the other islands.

They said that Corn Island used to export coconut. There was a certain kind of coconut endemic to the island that had more meat and a thin husk. Irod told us that even at 15 cents per coconut a family could have a comfortable living. Now one coconut costs 15 cordobas! When hurricane Joanne in came through, it levelled the island. The only buildings left standing were cement ones. Gus said his dad had 60 people in a 20×20 house. When all was said and done, you could stand on one side of the island and see all the way to the other. All the coconuts were gone! Over 200 people died.

Since it takes 5 years for a baby coconut to produce, and since the endemic tree was mostly gone, it has never rebuilt to what it was. Gus managed to find some of the nuts and has since planted 100 trees on his property.

In an amazing twist of fate, the lobster seemed to have been blown in, away from the other islands. The residents were trading lobster for goods needed to rebuild. Belgium shipped prefabricated houses in aid. We could have talked all night. They were so interesting and fun.

Vaden used to be a Steward on a cruise ship and Gus is a marine engineer. We exchanged phone numbers. The two drunk men gave us rides to our guesthouse. I rode on the back of Vaden’s motorcycle and Pierre rode in Gus’s jeep.

The next day we went to a beach near our guesthouse on our way to Petra’s new guesthouse.

We went for jamaica (a hibiscus drink) and carrot cake at a patisserie near her place. Then we headed out for a walk along the beach. I mentioned that it was very windy. There was a sand drift in front of her guesthouse.

We saw some horses grazing on an outcrop.

A word about the horses: They wander the island like they have no owners, but they do. If I horse bites a banana or plantain trunk, which tastes good to the animal, it kills the plant. Since the horses have no brands or other means of identification, the plantain owner does not know who owns the horse to ask for compensation. It takes 9-12 months to grow a new plant. A single horse can chew on quite a few plants in one evening.

SIDE NOTE: We tried to count the rings on some fallen trees. There are no rings. The weather is such that the trees continually grow. There is no start and stop like in Canada with our warm and cold seasons.

The bus stops are adorned with various sea creatures. One had a stingray, another had a lobster.

There are road signs cautioning drivers to watch out for crabs, turtles and sharks….?

We came across some very fancy houses,

old houses,

wall murals

and a giant crab in a playground.

It was getting hot and we were getting tired so we decided to cut across the runway on our way home. When a plane is coming in, they lock the gates, but when there is not plane they open the gates and you can walk right across the runway. Such a simple life!

On our way back, who did we run into? Gus! We agreed to meet at the restaurant in one hour.

This time we shut the place down.

We met up with Petra again and walked to the south end of the island. We walked along the beach for a bit.

It is higher than the north side, where we were staying. It was quite jungly and lovely.

Walking back down toward the town, we took to the beach again. There were some really fancy hotels and restaurants.

I did go diving to Blowing Rock on Friday. The wind died down and they found 2 other people. It was an OK site, but I should have waited another day. The sand had not settled from the precious days winds and the visibility was not terrific. I could barely make out the white tip shark. My legs got terribly sunburned on the ride back.

Because of the sunburn and the blister I got on my heel from the flipper rubbing, I wanted to stay in the next day. I had a nice chat with Irod. He told me he arrived on Corn Island in 1964, at the age of 18. He was a young man in search of work and adventure. He stayed with his uncle. When he got here, there was no electricity. The government has since set up solar panels, but as with most government run programs, someone pocketed a large chunk of money. There are not enough batteries to support the current usage.

He expanded on the story of the hurricanes. It was also during this time that a hospital in Wisconsin set up a radio tower to assist in medical issues – kind of like our Zoom appointments during Covid. I asked why Wisconsin? He didn’t know. He said that people would call in and doctors would diagnose over the phone. They also sent medicine. The medicine was all expired, but it worked, and it was free. Now if medicine is expired by one day, it is not administered. He said the people were grateful for whatever was sent to them. He was also president of an association that would raise money to send a severe patient and nurse to the mainland for treatments.

The one thing that seems consistent with all of Central America is their burning of garbage. It is a beautiful island, but the smell of burning garbage is distracting and disturbing.

The last night on the island we walked to Bar Victoria for a lobster dinner. We had heard so many stories about how this is a staple of the economy, so we would be amiss if we did not partake. It was delicious and cheap – $22.

We sat across the street from the ocean. It was the most incredible view.

We walked back to the guesthouse under a canopy of stars. We vowed to return to this little paradise.

One sour note: The first day that we arrived we bought some groceries. The next morning our milk container was empty and placed back in the fridge. I don’t have a problem if someone wants a bit of milk for their coffee, but they emptied the jug then had the audacity to put it back in the fridge. The next day our juice container was emptied. The day after that our bananas were gone. JEEZ! I put a note in the fridge telling whoever to grow up and stop stealing other’s food.

When we go to the airport, who did we run into? Gus! He was on the same flight. He had a taxi arranged to pick him up in Managua. He gave us a ride to the bus terminal for our transfer to Granada. He is planning to build an Airbnb this year. One more reason to return…..