4am…the iPod alarm is going off with an incessant buzzing like a meltdown alarm at a nuclear power plant. The dream fades and darkness creeps in only because we’re awake before dark, stumbling around in need of caffeine. We knock on doors…the only response is groans. Marvin, the boat captain, is in the lightest spirits…he’s been awake or an hour. Slowly contents of the rooms spill out into the common areas…hungover from last night’s “last night” party…it looks like frat boys took over the house. An empty bottle of Perla (aguardiente) and a half choked bottle of Jack are all that’s left, along with dozens of empty Tona bottles. They smell like booze. “Boat’s gonna be here in half an hour…get food, get coffee, get ready…swell is here!”. Any voice seems loud at this hour, but the message has been communicated. The routine begins and everybody does what they need to do…boards are waxed, teeth are brushed, nerves are bathed in strong hot coffee. The boat arrives at 5:03 am…the sun won’t be up for another half hour. The tide is a little high…low tide was at 3:30 am, but it’s on the rise for another 4 hours…enough time to squeeze in a two hour session at Freight Trains before we have to come back and get guests into Managua for a flight out…they prefer to fly salty. The waves are hitting: it’s a little warbly as the offshores haven’t groomed it…yet. Three overhead sets in, the sun comes up and blinds us by reflecting off the sheet glass… we surf until 7:30 and call it quits…time to rest up…the tide is low again at 3pm and we’ll watch that same sun set on another perfect day in paradise.