The Rodadero You Don't See: Those Who Live Off the Beach

The Beach as an Office: A Necessary Introduction

When you arrive at El Rodadero, the first thing you see is the turquoise sea, the white sand, and the green hills in the background. But if you look closely, you realize the beach is not just a landscape: it's an open-air office for thousands of people who wake up early every day to make a living. In June 2026, while tourists apply sunscreen and order their first cold coconut, behind every service there is a story of resistance, debt, and dreams. This article is not a traditional tourist guide. It is a portrait of those who live off the beach, not on the beach. If you want to truly understand El Rodadero, start by getting to know those who keep it alive.

What to Do: Look Beyond the Landscape

Most guides will recommend sunbathing, swimming, or eating fried fish. Here we propose something different: observe and talk. El Rodadero has a parallel life that begins before the sun rises and ends when the last vendor packs up their cooler. Walk from the pier to Punta de Gaira and pay attention to the details: the coconut carts, the umbrellas set up at dawn, the women carrying their massage baskets. Everyone knows their spot, their schedule, and their regular customer.

If you want a more authentic experience, look for workers who have been at the same spot for over ten years. They will tell you how the beach has changed, how much commercial rents have gone up, and what happened after the pandemic. It's not poverty tourism: it's conscious tourism. Ask for their name before ordering something from them. You'd be surprised how rare it is for someone to do that.

The Three Profiles That Move the Beach

To understand the beach economy of El Rodadero, you need to know its protagonists. Here are three real stories, with names changed to protect their identity, but with verifiable data on what they earn and how they live.

Don Carlos, the coconut vendor

Don Carlos is 58 years old and has been selling coconuts at the same corner, in front of the Hotel Tamacá, for 22 years. Every day he gets up at 4:30 in the morning. First, he goes to the Gaira market to buy the coconuts: between 60 and 80 units, depending on the season. He loads them onto a wooden cart that he fixed himself and takes them to his spot. By 6:00 a.m. he is already cutting the first one. He sells each coconut for $7,000 COP (reference prices from June 2026). On a good day, during high season (December, Easter week, and long weekends), he can sell up to 100 coconuts. That leaves him with a net profit of about $250,000 COP per day. But in low season, like September, he sometimes sells only 20 coconuts and barely covers his expenses. His dream: to buy a motorized cart so he doesn't have to rely on the manual one. "You get tired, but this is what I know how to do," he says as he splits a coconut with a single machete blow.

María Elena, the sand masseuse

María Elena is 42 years old, a single mother of two, and has worked as a beach masseuse for 15 years. She doesn't have a fixed spot: she walks from the pier to the Rodadero Beach apartment building, offering back and leg massages. She charges $40,000 COP for 20 minutes. On a normal day, she does between 5 and 8 massages, earning between $200,000 and $320,000 COP. But she has to pay a daily "fee" to an informal leader who allows her to work in that area: $15,000 COP. She also buys her own oil and towels. What hurts her most is not the tiredness, but the sun: "My skin has turned like leather, but there's no money for creams." Her dream is to open a small shop in the center of Santa Marta, where she can work under a roof. "Here on the beach, when it rains, I don't eat," she says.

Jairo, the jet ski guide

Jairo is 29 years old and works for a jet ski rental company that operates near the pier. He is not an owner; he is an employee. He earns a base salary of $1,300,000 COP per month, plus commissions for each ride he sells. In high season, he can double that income, but in low season, he barely makes minimum wage. His day starts at 8:00 a.m. and ends at 6:00 p.m., but he often stays later if there are customers. The hardest part, he says, is dealing with drunk tourists who want to drive the jet ski without knowing how. "You have to be patient and know how to say no, because if something happens, I'm the one who answers." His dream is to save up to buy his own jet ski and become independent. "But with what I earn, saving is a miracle," he says with a laugh.

Where to Eat or Drink: The Stalls That Feed the Workers

If you want to eat like them, don't go to the restaurants on the beachfront. Look for the street stalls that appear between 10:00 a.m. and 2:00 p.m. They are carts or baskets selling home-cooked food: rice with chicken, patacones, fruit salad, corozo juice. Doña Lidia, for example, has been selling lunches in the area of the Ocean View building for 12 years. She charges $12,000 COP for a full plate with meat, rice, salad, and patacón. She has no commercial name, but everyone knows her as "the lunch lady." The beach workers are her best customers: umbrella vendors, masseuses, guides, and even some tourist police officers. If you want to try real local food, ask her for a "corrientazo." But get there early, because it sells out before 1:00 p.m.

For a drink, look for the natural juice carts near the pier. They sell mango, lulo, passion fruit, and corozo juice for $5,000 COP for a large glass. These are the same ones the workers use to hydrate after hours under the sun. There is no better thermometer for the beach than seeing how many juices they sell: if they are full, it's high season; if they are empty, it's low season.

How to Get There and Transportation

Getting to El Rodadero is easy if you come from Santa Marta. Take a city bus on Avenida del Ferrocarril or Carrera 5. The routes that go to El Rodadero are 5, 6, and 7. The fare is $2,600 COP (June 2026) and the trip takes between 20 and 30 minutes, depending on traffic. You can also take a taxi or a mototaxi from the center, which charge between $15,000 and $25,000 COP.

If you come from Simón Bolívar Airport, it's only a 15-minute drive. A taxi from the airport to El Rodadero costs about $30,000 COP. There is no direct public transport from the airport, but you can walk to the main road and catch a passing bus.

Once in El Rodadero, everything is walkable. The beach is long but not huge: from the pier to Punta de Gaira is about 2 kilometers. Workers move on foot, carrying their baskets or carts. Bicycles and motorcycles are not allowed on the sand, so be prepared to walk barefoot or with sandals.

Local Tips: How to Be a Fair Tourist

• Ask for their name before buying. It seems simple, but it changes the dynamic. Say "Hi, what's your name?" before asking for a coconut or a massage. You'll notice they look at you differently.
• Don't haggle just for the sake of it. The prices for coconuts, massages, and juices are already low. If you want to help, pay what they ask without arguing. If you think it's expensive, don't buy it, but don't make the vendor feel bad.
• Buy directly, not through intermediaries. Sometimes there are people who offer "all-inclusive services" and then pay the worker a pittance. If you can, look for the direct vendor.
• Bring cash. Most beach workers don't have a card machine or accept transfers. Bills of $2,000, $5,000, and $10,000 are the most used. Don't pull out a $50,000 bill to pay for a $7,000 coconut: they don't have change.
• Respect their break time. Between 2:00 and 3:00 p.m., many workers sit down to eat lunch. Don't interrupt them or ask for service at that time. It's their only break of the day.
• If you see a child working, don't buy from them. It's delicate, but buying from a child perpetuates the cycle. Better to talk to an adult at the stall and ask if there is a way to help the family without encouraging child labor.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is it safe to walk around El Rodadero at night?

The tourist area of El Rodadero, especially in front of the beach and hotels, is relatively safe until 9:00 p.m. There is a presence of tourist police and private security. However, the side streets and areas further from the beach can be more deserted. Beach workers usually leave before dark, so after 7:00 p.m. the beach is practically empty. If you go out at night, stick to the main avenue and take a taxi or mototaxi back to your accommodation.

How much does a beach vendor at El Rodadero earn on average?

It depends on the season and the product. A coconut vendor can earn between $150,000 and $400,000 COP per day in high season, but in low season it drops to $50,000 or less. A masseuse earns between $200,000 and $320,000 COP on a good day. Jet ski guides have a fixed salary of $1,300,000 COP per month plus commissions. In general, no beach worker has stable income or social benefits. They live day to day, literally.

How can I support beach workers without falling into welfare?

The best way is to pay a fair price for the service, not haggle, and recommend them to other tourists. You can also buy local products (coconuts, juices, handicrafts) instead of bringing everything from your country. Another option is to leave a voluntary tip if the service was good, but always in cash. Some local NGOs, like the Gaira Foundation, work with informal vendors to offer training and access to healthcare. If you want to donate, look for verified organizations operating in Santa Marta. Avoid giving money directly to children or homeless people, as this can encourage negative dynamics.

Do beach workers have any type of organization or union?

Not formally. There are informal leaders who organize the stalls and charge a daily fee to "look after" the space. This is neither legal nor illegal; it's a reality that has existed for decades. Some workers have tried to form associations, but most prefer not to get into trouble. In recent years, the Mayor's Office of Santa Marta has made efforts to formalize vendors, but the process is slow and bureaucratic. The majority remain completely informal, without a contract, insurance, or pension.

What happens to beach workers when the weather is bad or the beach is closed?

If the beach is closed due to waves or storms, the workers simply don't earn anything. There is no income. Some have minimal savings, others borrow from family or informal lenders (the famous "gota a gota") who charge extremely high interest. It's a precarious situation that repeats every year. Coconut vendors, for example, lose their merchandise if they don't sell it, because the coconut spoils quickly. Masseuses have no clients. Jet ski guides don't receive commissions. On those days, many stay home or look for temporary work in other sectors, like construction or commerce.