Words by Ginger Harris

San Salvador, El Salvador – October 8-9, 2013 – It all started with an island, a coconut tree and a thirst. The story of Coconut Cartel, Miami’s latest coconut water brand, is a history lesson, an exploration in botany and a family affair all wrapped into the husk of an engraved coconut. Mike “Zig” Zighelboim and his sister Danielle unexpectedly stumbled into the coconut water business and thus far, it’s been a wild ride full of coconut water-fueled parties, run-ins with some of the biggest players in the hip-hop game and internationally transported suitcases full of the husked nut. No, it’s not a fruit. It’s a nut.

But before we tell the story of the brand, let us ask you this, “Do you know where your coconut water comes from?” If you’re drinking the coconuts from Coconut Cartel, this is how they get from the island to you. Bare in mind, this is the first time media has ever been granted access to the plantation. And soon you’ll realize there’s so much more to coconut water than just popping a top and inserting a straw. This is the story of how one coconut got from a plantation in El Salvador to Soho Beach House.

Mike Zig

El Salvador

Our journey begins by hopping a plane. It’s a two-hour ride from Miami. Below are the golden beaches of Latin America, Costa del Sol, as they are known. “The best surfing in the world,” Zig says. Past the sea are coffee, sugar and other plantations. You know you’ve arrived when you start to see the volcanoes, 13 in total, with San Vicente as the first to appear in sight.

Upon landing, you’ll see that coconuts are what this country is known for. With roadside vendors selling them on the side of the road every 20 feet, it’s hard not to. “Pretty much every coconut you can get your hands on in El Salvador is from our plantation,” Zig says. There are so many stands because without them many of the coconuts would go to waste.

Driving through the island, you’ll cross the Puente de Oro. During the Salvadorian Civil War, which lasted a total of 13 years (’79-’92), the bridge marked a turning point. “The guerrillas blew it up. Nothing could get across the river, so soldiers were marooned without supplies. It was never repaired,” Zig says. So it sits, a beautiful, old structure, as a reminder of the country’s hardships. Today, the country is a Chavez-backed government.

After a 45-minute drive into the island, traveling via dirt road, you’ll finally arrive at a gate leading to a sugar plantation. Plantation is actually a laughable description, as the land itself is the size of South Florida. It’s been owned for hundreds of years by the same family, which is one of the established founding families in El Salvador. What lies ahead are billions of dollar’s worth of sugar cane. In the old days, as long as you had a means to protect your land, it was yours, which is how the island’s established families came to be. And for many decades it remained this way, until the government came in and divided up the land. Over time, the established families bought back the land when those it was dispersed to could no longer maintain it.

Winding through the sugar cane is a dirt road that leads to an airstrip and a members-only oasis, Barillas Marina Club, with its own heliport and marina, built by the family members for their friends and hidden between mangroves and sugar cane fields. It’s the only protected. private and exclusive marina in the region.

5 a.m. Boat Ride

The trip to the plantation starts with a jaunt on a homemade boat. Due to extreme temperatures, it’s imperative to start the day early. “There’s literally a 20-degree difference between day and night,” Zig says. It’s a 30-minute ride from the marina to the plantation with one stop along the way to get gas at Puerte El Triunfo. Along the way, you’ll see hundreds of shrimping boats, owned by a powerful family in El Salvador. The boats are remnants of the once-thriving shrimping industry, which due to the Chavez-backed government, closed down, like many other industries on the country.

San Vicente & San Miguel

El Salvador is a drop-off point between the U.S. and Colombia for drug smugglers. The Salvadoran Navy has strong anti-narcotics units based here.

“Prior to this, I was dabbling in green technologies. And then, literally, a coconut fell into my lap. And now look at what it’s turned into.” – Mike Zig

The Plantation

When you arrive at the South Side of the island, an island that, if here in Miami would extend from Key Biscayne to Sunny Isles, you’re greeted by Zaba, the head of security. He was in the Salvadoran Special Forces, essentially our version of the Navy Seals. Don’t let his guayabera fool you though. He isn’t wearing it to keep cool, but rather disguise his gun. It’s a necessity to protect the coconuts from being stolen or compromised. Behind Zaba is the main house, built 110 years ago by the founder. Today, it remains in the exact condition it was in 110 years ago, with its tin roof, lack of ac and a water supply that comes from a tank. In fact, the only piece of technology in the house is a satellite dish that doesn’t work. Using what they had the most of on the island, the builders turned to the coco palm to insulate the house. Its rooms are open to any of the 15 workers who need a place to stay. On the island people work from 5 a.m. until noon, due to the heat. On an average day, temperatures reach 100 degrees by midday year round.

Zaba

Mike Zig & Zaba

Elsewhere on the island are components for daily life, like a de-saltification reservoir, which is a reservoir that’s only salt water used for cooking fish. The other reservoirs on the island contain fresh water for drinking. And there are also signs of Mother Nature’s upper hand. Here, the remains of a dock that collapsed in an earthquake, which the region is prone to having close to every four years.

Wildlife on the island consists of crocodiles, cows, wild horses and bulls. The workers use the bulls and wild horses to help farm the crops and then turn them loose once they are finished. But it’s not just Mother Nature and her inhabitants the island needs protection from. A Stiltsville-style guardhouse resides in half-kilometer intervals around the island. It is always manned to keep the unwanted away. Protecting the island is a top priority to prevent anyone from stealing, infecting or burning the coconuts.

“It’s the only food you can completely live off of. You can use the husk to make clothes and the tree to build houses. You can drink the water, eat the meat. Basically, if you lived on an island by yourself with a coconut tree, there’s hope for survival. You can even build a boat out of floating coconuts.” – Mike Zig

Zaba

Coconut Cartel

“It’s the last plantation of Malayan Dwarf coconuts,” explains Zig, as he talks about the origin of his coconuts. “It’s my partner, Christian Quinonez Sol’s, island. It’s been in the family for more than 100 years.” The plantation was once the original supplier of Almond Joy, but around 60 years ago, Almond Joy outgrew the plantation. Today, it supplies all of Coconut Cartel’s business.

Zig says he happened into the business purely by coincidence. Originally from Miami, he, however, grew up in El Salvador drinking coconut water, but it wasn’t until his childhood friend and business partner handed him a coconut after a night out that the idea to bring them to the States dawned on him. “I was living in El Salvador. It was a hot day, and I was a little hung over. My friend tossed me one and I saw how easy it was to open. Christian told me about the plantation, so I went to check it out and fell in love. And that’s how and when the notion of Coconut Cartel was born.”

“Due to high demand and the growing market, we are planning to double the crop within the next seven years.” – Mike Zig

The secret to the Cartel’s coconuts is what Zig calls “a perfect storm.” The plantation is surrounded by mangroves and sugarcane fields, so when the mangroves grab the water they take it into an aquiferous mantel where they get their fresh water from, fresh, sweet water. The water nourishes the palms, which gives the coconuts a unique flavor, unlike other coconuts.

Some of the trees Zig derives his coconuts from are as old as 110 years. From the time a coconut falls off a tree until it sprouts into a new tree takes seven years—a slow process. There’s a 60-day period to consume a coconut once it falls from a tree, given that it’s still in its shell. However, once removed from its shell, the shelf life is one day without refrigeration. A refrigerated coconut, however, can last up to six weeks.

Malayan Dwarf

There are three types of coconuts growing on the island. The coconut you’ll find from the Cartel is actually a hybrid. “Our island is inhabited by the last crop of Malayan Dwarfs. We have a large crop of Pacific Talls (one of the tallest coconut trees), and they crossed to make the most scalable, sweet coconuts in the world, the Maypan. The perfect size of a Pacific Tall with the sweetness of a Malayan Dwarf naturally occurred.” The Malayan Dwarf is the smallest tree on the island, which makes it the easiest to steal. It’s the number one reason there are none left in the world. People would steal them right off the tree, because they didn’t require a climb or equipment to remove.

Pacific Tall

Maypan

There is a secret stash of coconuts on the island—a super rare crop of only 400 trees. “It’s for the family only, for personal use. But, it will be coming out soon, a very limited edition coconut,” Zig lets on.

Malayan Dwarfs

Miami Bound

Before the coconut reaches you, it goes through 12 people. To avoid stunting the trees, the coconuts are selectively handpicked to ensure continual harvest. To pick the hybrid coconuts, the workers use a tower that is older than anyone on the island, clocking in at 75 years old. “It’s the same technology my partner’s great grandfather used.” Using poles, the coconuts fall off the trees, and workers lag behind to pick them off and chuck them into a trolley. These trolleys are pulled by oxen, who work for the day and then return to the wild once the day ends.

“I didn’t want to be another juice box brand that had to play by the rules. A lot of those brands aren’t even coconut water anymore. Real coconut water can’t live on a shelf for a year.” – Mike Zig

“Started from the bottom” – Mike Zig

Aside from the taste, the main difference between Malayan Dwarf coconuts and what other coconut water companies use, mostly Thailand baby coconuts, boils down to ounces. Thai coconuts contain just a few ounces. A Coconut Cartel coconut has 18 ounces, 10 ounces in its smallest nut.

Fifth Avenue

Among the lush jungle of trees lies a coconut highway, “Fifth Avenue,” as it’s called. It’s a straight shoot from the northernmost point of the island to the airstrip next to the house. There is only one tractor on the island used for transporting the coconuts. It uses this highway to get from one side of the island to the other.

Airstrip

Back at the main house, the coconuts are shelled. Coconuts are deshelled at night because of the heat. Too much heat can cause the coconuts to explode. The process uses the same method as Zig’s partner’s great grandfather. These coconuts are peeled, while most other brands use machetes. The process is incredibly dangerous, meaning it’s very simple to lose a finger. But the skilled workers can deshell a coconut in about 30 seconds. Other boxed juice brands do not deshell their coconuts. They simply drain the water.

On the island, very little goes to waste. The shells that are removed begin to decompose. They are then fed back into the plantation and used as a fertilizer. What isn’t used is purchased by car brands like Mercedes-Benz, which use the fibers to stuff the seats of their cars. And much like the people of the island’s mentality of sustainability, Zig’s sister, Danielle, has plans for the future of Coconut Cartel, making the most of what’s left over from the nuts, too. “Eventually we want to make other products from the coconuts, like pressing the oil. We plan to use every part,” she says.

“My life has been consumed by coconuts. It’s now all I know.” – Mike Zig

“We never cook our water. However, juice box brands buy in bulk and cook them. Their formulas are only somewhat coconut water; the majority is preservatives and sweeteners. And they don’t own their coconuts. They just buy,” Zig says, explaining how his brand differs from the numerous other coconut waters available in the market. “The boxed brands have a shelf life of a year, but fresh, unrefrigerated coconut water only lasts 24 hours, proving the competitors have preservatives and additives. Either that or it’s cooked, heat pasteurized, which also extends its shelf life and compromises the nutrients.”

The coconuts are then loaded at night (to prevent heat explosions) and transported to the city via riverboats. Once they reach the mainland, they are put into refrigeration and branded.

“I knew people would naturally love the coconuts and the simplicity of the product, packaged by nature itself. Many consumers may drink coconut water out of boxes, but it doesn’t get any more raw than the Coconut Cartel. It’s like a natural Gatorade with potassium and electrolytes, but with lower sodium and sugar. Plus, the nut is a natural koozie that keeps it cold and insulated.” – Mike Zig

After numerous hit and misses, Zig and his partners created a marketable branding method for personalizing the coconuts. “We tried paint, spray paint, marker. Nothing worked,” Zig says. So they tried something new. Using laser engravers, they can personalize the coconuts with Coconut Cartel or other brands’ logos, like local Miami business like JugoFresh, Broken Shaker, MTV Latin America or Soho Beach House. They’ve even been personalized with celebrity monikers, like Drake—a huge fan of the coconuts—who had coconuts personally flown to him for his album release party in Toronto. The two met when Drake saw Zig drinking out of a coconut at Soho Beach House. It was an Instagrammed moment that took Coconut Cartel from 200 followers to 1,500 in the course of one night.

Soho Beach House

Once the coconuts are branded, they are flown to Miami. After a quick trip through customs, they are put on a truck and driven to their destination. But you don’t have to be an international celebrity, like Drake, to enjoy them. Simply find a spot at the bar at Soho Beach House, pop in a straw, add a bit of rum and enjoy. As God’s little gift, the coconuts have two ounces of empty space, the perfect amount for a shot. Cheers.

Laurent Fraticelli & Mike Zig

Private Collection

It’s not just about the coconut, it’s about the journey. Thus far, it’s proved to be an adventure neither Zig nor his partners can believe. From worldly travels to hob knobbing with celebs, it’s an experience none of them will soon forget. “That night [I met Drake] was a game changer,” Zig says. “You can only dream for stuff like that to happen.”

All photos below are courtesy of Christian Quinonez Sol & Mike Zig

Drake & Mike Zig September 4, 2013 at Icon Brickell