Surf Missions International Update

It's approaching fall on the beautiful Outer Banks of North Carolina and the waves are finally here! As great as that is for all of the area surfers it really does not affect Billy Diggs and his surf missions team one way or the other. Whether there is good surf at home or not, Billy simply packs up the gang, surfboards, luggage, and all and heads for some remote part of the globe where he then leads his mighty band of warriors to out-of-the-way coastal villages.

There they have been known to give the locals surfboards, money, Bibles and other valued items. After getting to know the villagers a bit better, he then invites them to join him and his team for a time of worship and a message. Billy's surf outreach is touching folks all around the world and has recently begun receiving recognition from several of the top surfing magazines. The photos they take while on these trips are now gracing the pages of many of these same publications.

In my last conversation with Billy he eagerly shared with me all of the great things that God had done during their recent trip to Nicaragua. He told me that he was accompanied on this trip by his beautiful wife Lynn, three of his lovely daughters and friends. They went into nearby villages and handed out surf apparel to the locals and spent time at the property that he has purchased where his crews are now clearing the land to begin construction on his new SMI surf camp.

He was also able to share with me that he is funding pouring the foundation for a new Church in nearby Popoya. This recent trip was what Billy referred to as family missions trip. It was one of those rare occasions when he and girls, as busy as they all are, were able to schedule this time together. To give you just a brief glimpse into their trip, we felt that it would be great if you could hear it in Billy's own words. This is an adventure that they affectionately refer to as "The Great Black Nicaragua Suck Mud Adventure"

The day started out like every other morning, filled with excitement and anticipation for the days events. Every morning we would compare notes with the camp and fellow surfers to see what surf breaks would be the best bet for the day. Since most of the breaks had to be accessed by boat, our options were fairly limited. A storm system had moved in to the region bringing unusually high surf, and the tides from the full moon were extra high. This meant that we had to time our excursions around these tidal changes. The soft sand at high tide was too risky for most vehicles. Stories of cars that were stuck and then completely caught by the high tide were still fresh in the minds of the campers & locals. Since we had surfed Santana a couple days before, we knew we could get some manageable surf before the tide would get it. We had taken everyone the previous time, Lynn, Brianna, Brit & Kim. The surf was okay, had some good sets but still the waves were hit and miss.

When we came in to the beach front area we had to take the road running parallel to the oceanfront. It was pretty nasty. There was a coat of green algae on the surface of the water with visible tire tracks running through the deep dark black mud. We drove through the mud that day, holding our breath as the mud waters came up to our floor boards. That evening I had to wash off two inches of the layered mud on the trucks running boards (a full size Ford expedition) from the escape earlier. The girls were a bit nervous but we still prevailed through the mud, side slipping all the way. Today, we figured, we would just bypass the suck mud and ride the high part of the shoreline to the lineup in the four wheel drive. It had rained hard each of the last few nights and the beach was fully loaded with driftwood and debris from the storm surf. Our companion truck came through and charged right through all the junk en route to a beach front parking spot. So we followed the tracks and joined the other truck.

The surf was okay, but the girls seemed to be losing interest. After an hour, they decided to make another plan to go to the fishing village and finish up the day with beach break surf in Estillero. As we watched the other truck skirt out along the shoreline, barely escaping the waves that were almost breaking on their sand spinning tires, we began to ponder our fate. They got out by inches as we stayed to catch a few more.

Lynn and Brianna had stayed at the pool, while the girls & I went back to Santana. We realized that we were going to have to plow through the suck mud in order to get back home. The local Nicaragua boys were our only companions in the water. As we loaded up our gear to make the plunge I was a bit nervous.

Approaching the mud puddles we could see the entire road was under water, deep tracks entering into a hidden field of mud. I thought if I could stay on the higher track, I would avoid the deep trenches bordered by the barb wired fence and fence posts. As I entered the moat, the truck veered heavily toward the right and the tires slid off into the deep rut. The truck immediately became mired down in the black "suck mud", so soft and squishy that all four tires spun helplessly while the truck bottom remained perched upon the wet mud. No movement forward, no movement backward, water knee deep on each side as I tried to rock forward and reverse but only dug deeper into the trenches.

I step out into the knee deep mud water with bare feet sinking with every step, desperately trying to hand dig out the sunken tires. No one in sight and the girls eyes wide open. The engine stalls out. I'm dead in mud. I jump back into the truck. "Girls, let's pray"! Upon opening our eyes we are surrounded by a swarm of local boys, excited with the opportunity to show off their strength and energy for the girls that were surfing their home break.

I roll down the window (pinching my fingers together to signal I will pay dearly for escape from mud). As their eyes light up to the challenge of a new adventure, rescuing the beautiful American surfer girls. They all begin to push & pull. The hood is so hot that we sacrifice our bottled drinking water to cool off the hood for their hands.

We push, we pull, we slip, we slide, a tree branch here, a big rock shoved under the tire, we slide, mud is everywhere and all the boys are covered from head to toe with rich black mud. Truck continues to dig itself deeper into trenches, but is slowly inching backwards to the open field. On the one side are posts with barb wire ever inching closer to our rented truck. Slipping and sliding backwards, we ram into the posts as the barb wire pierces the side of our exhausted truck, adding more drama to the day's featured event.

We are now resting in a field of green soft grassy mud, but almost out of the worst part. Then, with a renewed burst of enthusiasm and more fresh sticks shoved under the tires, the sticks became logs, the rocks became chunks of concrete carried by several boys at a time. Fence posts become pulled out of the ground and barb wire is everywhere as we escape into the open field.

The girls in the meantime have been enjoying the show with eyes more wide open, laughing and cheering the efforts. As the truck takes a well earned rest, we assess the next phase of maneuvers to reach the main road.

The boys start dismantling the adjacent wooden fence making a new driveway to the oceanfront, our last hope for returning home, and the only remaining option. I drive to the edge of the surf and see a narrow path along the edge of shoreline that looks like it will connect to freedom. I plow forward, sand slipping my way to the edge of road and into safety. Cheers and smiles erupt as Brittany begins to hand out $100 cordovas to each of the boys (I actually had ten fresh new 100 dollar bills in my wallet), and then we empty all our energy bars and granola to our rescue party. High five's and hugs to all and prayers answered! We say our good byes and express our gratitude to a smiling, happy group of heroes for the day. What a day in Nicaragua, and what a great group of young men eager to help and make new friends. I find out later that they are the same kids that the boys were pushing into waves on the "Noah's Arc" film, and some had even received the Lord during the boy's trip beforehand.

In addition to trips like these, Billy is planning to construct six other surf camps near the hottest surf spots in the world. Keep up the great work gang! The body of Christ needs more servants like you!

You can write to Billy at SMI PO Box 349, Kitty Hawk North Carolina 27949. If you would like to help support future surf missions trips simply make your check payable to "Toward the Mark" and mail to:

Toward the Mark
P.O. Box 1152
Yorktown, Va 23692

and we will get it to him right away.

"Keith, Thank you for all your prayers and support throughout the years. It has been because of your faithfulness to our ministry outreaches that we have been able to see the fruit of God's blessings in our lives and in the lives of the many young people we have had the honor to meet along the way. May the Lord continue to link us together in the promotion of His Kingdom. Keep up the good work! "... Billy Diggs


	Surf Missions International Update It's approaching fall on the beautiful Outer Banks of North Carolina and the waves are finally here! As great as that is for all of the area surfers it really does not affect Billy Diggs and his surf missions team one way or the other. Whether there is good surf at home or not, Billy simply packs up the gang, surfboards, luggage, and all and heads for some remote part of the globe where he then leads his mighty band of warriors to out-of-the-way coastal villages. There they have been known to give the locals surfboards, money, Bibles and other valued items. After getting to know the villagers a bit better, he then invites them to join him and his team for a time of worship and a message. Billy's surf outreach is touching folks all around the world and has recently begun receiving recognition from several of the top surfing magazines. The photos they take while on these trips are now gracing the pages of many of these same publications. In my last conversation with Billy he eagerly shared with me all of the great things that God had done during their recent trip to Nicaragua. He told me that he was accompanied on this trip by his beautiful wife Lynn, three of his lovely daughters and friends. They went into nearby villages and handed out surf apparel to the locals and spent time at the property that he has purchased where his crews are now clearing the land to begin construction on his new SMI surf camp. He was also able to share with me that he is funding pouring the foundation for a new Church in nearby Popoya. This recent trip was what Billy referred to as family missions trip. It was one of those rare occasions when he and girls, as busy as they all are, were able to schedule this time together. To give you just a brief glimpse into their trip, we felt that it would be great if you could hear it in Billy's own words. This is an adventure that they affectionately refer to as "The Great Black Nicaragua Suck Mud Adventure" The day started out like every other morning, filled with excitement and anticipation for the days events. Every morning we would compare notes with the camp and fellow surfers to see what surf breaks would be the best bet for the day. Since most of the breaks had to be accessed by boat, our options were fairly limited. A storm system had moved in to the region bringing unusually high surf, and the tides from the full moon were extra high. This meant that we had to time our excursions around these tidal changes. The soft sand at high tide was too risky for most vehicles. Stories of cars that were stuck and then completely caught by the high tide were still fresh in the minds of the campers & locals. Since we had surfed Santana a couple days before, we knew we could get some manageable surf before the tide would get it. We had taken everyone the previous time, Lynn, Brianna, Brit & Kim. The surf was okay, had some good sets but still the waves were hit and miss. When we came in to the beach front area we had to take the road running parallel to the oceanfront. It was pretty nasty. There was a coat of green algae on the surface of the water with visible tire tracks running through the deep dark black mud. We drove through the mud that day, holding our breath as the mud waters came up to our floor boards. That evening I had to wash off two inches of the layered mud on the trucks running boards (a full size Ford expedition) from the escape earlier. The girls were a bit nervous but we still prevailed through the mud, side slipping all the way. Today, we figured, we would just bypass the suck mud and ride the high part of the shoreline to the lineup in the four wheel drive. It had rained hard each of the last few nights and the beach was fully loaded with driftwood and debris from the storm surf. Our companion truck came through and charged right through all the junk en route to a beach front parking spot. So we followed the tracks and joined the other truck. The surf was okay, but the girls seemed to be losing interest. After an hour, they decided to make another plan to go to the fishing village and finish up the day with beach break surf in Estillero. As we watched the other truck skirt out along the shoreline, barely escaping the waves that were almost breaking on their sand spinning tires, we began to ponder our fate. They got out by inches as we stayed to catch a few more. Lynn and Brianna had stayed at the pool, while the girls & I went back to Santana. We realized that we were going to have to plow through the suck mud in order to get back home. The local Nicaragua boys were our only companions in the water. As we loaded up our gear to make the plunge I was a bit nervous. Approaching the mud puddles we could see the entire road was under water, deep tracks entering into a hidden field of mud. I thought if I could stay on the higher track, I would avoid the deep trenches bordered by the barb wired fence and fence posts. As I entered the moat, the truck veered heavily toward the right and the tires slid off into the deep rut. The truck immediately became mired down in the black "suck mud", so soft and squishy that all four tires spun helplessly while the truck bottom remained perched upon the wet mud. No movement forward, no movement backward, water knee deep on each side as I tried to rock forward and reverse but only dug deeper into the trenches. I step out into the knee deep mud water with bare feet sinking with every step, desperately trying to hand dig out the sunken tires. No one in sight and the girls eyes wide open. The engine stalls out. I'm dead in mud. I jump back into the truck. "Girls, let's pray"! Upon opening our eyes we are surrounded by a swarm of local boys, excited with the opportunity to show off their strength and energy for the girls that were surfing their home break. I roll down the window (pinching my fingers together to signal I will pay dearly for escape from mud). As their eyes light up to the challenge of a new adventure, rescuing the beautiful American surfer girls. They all begin to push & pull. The hood is so hot that we sacrifice our bottled drinking water to cool off the hood for their hands. We push, we pull, we slip, we slide, a tree branch here, a big rock shoved under the tire, we slide, mud is everywhere and all the boys are covered from head to toe with rich black mud. Truck continues to dig itself deeper into trenches, but is slowly inching backwards to the open field. On the one side are posts with barb wire ever inching closer to our rented truck. Slipping and sliding backwards, we ram into the posts as the barb wire pierces the side of our exhausted truck, adding more drama to the day's featured event. We are now resting in a field of green soft grassy mud, but almost out of the worst part. Then, with a renewed burst of enthusiasm and more fresh sticks shoved under the tires, the sticks became logs, the rocks became chunks of concrete carried by several boys at a time. Fence posts become pulled out of the ground and barb wire is everywhere as we escape into the open field. The girls in the meantime have been enjoying the show with eyes more wide open, laughing and cheering the efforts. As the truck takes a well earned rest, we assess the next phase of maneuvers to reach the main road. The boys start dismantling the adjacent wooden fence making a new driveway to the oceanfront, our last hope for returning home, and the only remaining option. I drive to the edge of the surf and see a narrow path along the edge of shoreline that looks like it will connect to freedom. I plow forward, sand slipping my way to the edge of road and into safety. Cheers and smiles erupt as Brittany begins to hand out $100 cordovas to each of the boys (I actually had ten fresh new 100 dollar bills in my wallet), and then we empty all our energy bars and granola to our rescue party. High five's and hugs to all and prayers answered! We say our good byes and express our gratitude to a smiling, happy group of heroes for the day. What a day in Nicaragua, and what a great group of young men eager to help and make new friends. I find out later that they are the same kids that the boys were pushing into waves on the "Noah's Arc" film, and some had even received the Lord during the boy's trip beforehand. In addition to trips like these, Billy is planning to construct six other surf camps near the hottest surf spots in the world. Keep up the great work gang! The body of Christ needs more servants like you! You can write to Billy at SMI PO Box 349, Kitty Hawk North Carolina 27949. If you would like to help support future surf missions trips simply make your check payable to "Toward the Mark" and mail to: Toward the Mark P.O. Box 1152 Yorktown, Va 23692 and we will get it to him right away. "Keith, Thank you for all your prayers and support throughout the years. It has been because of your faithfulness to our ministry outreaches that we have been able to see the fruit of God's blessings in our lives and in the lives of the many young people we have had the honor to meet along the way. May the Lord continue to link us together in the promotion of His Kingdom. Keep up the good work! "... Billy Diggs
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