After weeks of limp swell in Belize, I was hanging for El Paredón. I’d been dry too long, landlocked in spirit, itchy in my skin. This place had been circling my ears like a rumour, growing louder by the day. Every surfer had that look when they talked about it – eyes slightly glazed, grin crooked with memory. The kind of look that says, “You should’ve been there.”
So, I went.
Ten hours on a bus, and we arrived dazed and drenched – unsure if it were sweat or drool giving us that glossed-over look. But in front of us? The ocean was pulsing. Set after set thundered in – tight, tropical wedges flaring up fast and arriving practically on your doorstep. You could smell the salt in the heat. You could feel the pull in your ribs before you even touched water.
It’s not a gentle welcome. El Paredón is bold, mouthy. The kind of wave that smacks the sleep out of you. The drop feels like falling off the edge of something holy. There’s no mellow fade, no slow carve – just go. Bottom turns feel like commitments. The lip throws hard, but if you hit it right, it launches you. Even the foam feels personal.
But here’s the truth: when I arrived, I did a bit more watching than surfing. And that’s because of one guy, Efren Aguilar.
You know the kind. Walks the beach like it was waiting for him, greets everyone like family, and then paddles out and throws airs like he’s flicking a cigarette. Effortless, playful, sharp. He made the wave look like it was designed for him.
I figured the best way for you to understand this place wasn’t through me. It was through him.
So, I asked – how did surfing first find its way into your life?
I grew up in here and started surfing when I was 13. I went down to the beach and saw some local surfers – Henry Rivera was one of them. He taught me most of what I know about surfing.
Will you spill the beans on your favourite spot? What are you paddling out on?
My favourite wave is called Calipso. It’s a long left, that’s kind of wedgey, but holds out way longer than you’d expect. As for boards, I’ll ride anything from the Mayhem lineup by Lost.
Nice. So, how’d you describe your style in the water?
It really depends on the board I’m riding and the conditions that day. But no matter what, I’m always bringing good energy, sharing waves with friends, my brother, tourists, whoever is out there. And a Thruster is always #1.
Ah, this is refreshing haha! And, what keeps you coming back?
Pure love. When I’m in the ocean, it’s like entering a different dimension from the life we’re used to – one without problems, without worries, without stress, without sadness.
Anything special about surfing in El Paredón for you?
It’s the daily connection with nature, the community, the mix of people who either live here or are just passing through. The waves are consistent and more than anything, nothing beats going out at sunset and scoring the best wave of the day.
And what are you working at the moment?
I have a surf school, Alfaque Surf Academy (@alfaque502surf), with some of my closest friends and surf companions: @ottobourd5, @vikonajera, @jfnajera, and @ivandragoii. We’re focused on helping people of all ages and levels progress in their surfing. And, personally, one of my biggest dreams is to surf around the world – maybe even in Australia someday.
With Efren, there’s no performance…okay, maybe a little. But you can tell he’s just someone completely at home in this place.
It’s not about ego or image. It’s about sharing waves, watching each other’s backs, and making room – whether you’ve lived here your whole life or just paddled out for the first time.
And they’re serious about it. You barely have time to look confused before someone’s whistling and sprinting down the sand like it’s a Baywatch reboot. No one gets left behind – not on land, not in the lineup.
Because surfing here isn’t just movement – it’s memory, it’s connection, it’s communion. And if you sit still long enough out past the break, you’ll feel it: the quiet, steady heartbeat of a community stitched together by salt, sun, and pure love for the sea.
