After agreeing to participate in an exploratory mission to the South coasts of Haiti, everyone I told about the trip warned me not to go. The consensus was that the place was just too dangerous. "Danger is my middle name," I told them. Not really, but I do prefer to take the roads less traveled and Haiti certainly lay along that path.

Having spent the previous 6 weeks in Nicaragua, I didn't do much due dilligence and simply arrived with zero idea about what to expect. Fortunately, a local Haitian named Russell Behrman picked me up at the airport and filled me in on a little about the country.

After another part of the crew, a ripping artistic Floridian named Phil Goodrich, showed up Russell drove us down to the town of Jacmel for our first introduction to surfing in Haiti. The beach was absolutely covered in trash. Walking barefoot to the waters edge, my eyes were focused on the piles of rusted metal, plastic bottles, and other less identifiable pieces of rubbish as a trio of pigs scavenged nearby.

Paddling out next to a set of surprisingly large rusted pistons, the only remaining relics from one of many shipwrecks in the area, I was happy to see shoulder high lefts peeling along a cobblestone beach. The water was warm and very salty, and while the waves were not world class, it was definitely fun and totally empty except for the three of us.

Check it out, more photos coming soon!