When you paddle out from Seattle’s Portage Bay today, it’s hard to imagine the scrappy beginnings of Agua Verde Paddle Club. But founder Rey Lopez swears the idea was born not in Washington waters, but on a dusty cliffside road in Baja California.
Back in the early 1990s, Lopez and his friends Bill and Mick would pile into Volkswagen vans stuffed with books, tools, and paddles, bound for a remote fishing village called Agua Verde on the Sea of Cortez. “We fell in love with this place,” Lopez recalls. They stayed in villagers’ fishing huts, built swing sets for the kids, even ferried supplies requested by name: a shovel for Maria’s dad, a vice for someone else’s workshop. Days were filled with sea kayaking expeditions and nights with tequila under desert stars.
The adventures were intoxicating—and occasionally terrifying. One infamous trip in 1996 took them to a desert island called Espíritu Santo, a remote outpost where explorers once perished from thirst. While camped out there, Lopez and crew were hit by back-to-back hurricanes. Boats tumbled, tents shredded, and the group huddled in rocky outcrops, waiting out punishing winds. For seven days they were stranded, digging trenches in the sand to free their storm-buried support boat. “We were like ghosts from the sea when we finally made it back,” Lopez says.
The ordeal proved life-changing. “We started talking—what if people came to us instead of us chasing them around Mexico?” Lopez explains. The trio imagined a waterside hub in Seattle, a place to launch paddles, share meals, and recreate the camaraderie they’d found on Baja’s shores.
Soon after, they stumbled on a dilapidated machine shop fenced off on Portage Bay. It looked ready for demolition, but with a sympathetic University of Washington lawyer eager to see the waterfront revitalized, they struck a deal. In 1996, Agua Verde Paddle Club opened its doors, with the café following a year later.
What began as a half-crazy dream after a hurricane is now a Seattle institution: a place where students, locals, and travelers alike rent kayaks, sip margaritas, and watch the sun slide down behind the city skyline. The origins may be rooted in Baja sandstorms and busted Volkswagens, but the spirit remains the same—community, adventure, and a deep love of the water.
As Lopez puts it: “We just wanted to keep paddling, keep cooking, keep bringing people together. Somehow, that turned into Agua Verde.”