My name is Rusty, and for the last twenty years Guatemala has been my galaxy—full of adventure, shifting orbits, unexpected encounters, and the occasional meteor shower. Eleven years ago, my course aligned with the little surf village of El Paredón, a place that felt less like a destination and more like a newly discovered planet. With a few good friends, I helped bring the Driftwood Surfer hostel to life—an outpost built on sand, salt, and community.
It wasn’t my first mission. Before Driftwood, I captained Casa de la Iguana in Livingston on the Caribbean coast, where jungle and sea collide and travelers from every corner of Earth pass through like wandering stars. Those early years taught me resilience, hospitality, and the magic that sparks when strangers share the same space—even briefly. But El Paredón… she had her own gravitational pull. Over time, this community inspired projects that became core to my heart: a free dental program, restoring smiles and dignity, and a turtle release initiative, watching tiny creatures launch into the surf like miniature vessels beginning their first voyage.
Through all these chapters, one dream orbited quietly in the background—the dream I’d carried since childhood, when science fiction books and films convinced me that anything was possible. I always wanted to build a spaceship. During the strange stillness of the Covid era, that dream finally ignited. With the world paused, I found time—and I found people. I met architects who shared my love for futuristic design and imagination. They saw potential in my crude sketches, transforming rough ideas into blueprints for something bold and otherworldly. Concepts evolved. The ship took shape. The build itself became an odyssey—two years navigating weather, seasons, obstacles, and the edges of what we believed we could accomplish. And then, on August 8th, she opened her doors. Not just a restaurant, but a vessel crafted from creativity, community, and the belief that dreams deserve structure.
A crew of “space cadets” assembled—friends, team members, adventurers—each adding their own energy to the mission. Now, every night the ship hums with life: conversation, flavor, music, laughter, and the glow of imagination. I’m proud of what we’ve achieved. Proud of what’s still unfolding. And as far as this journey is concerned, the sky is no limit. After all—spaceships are built to explore beyond boundaries.
