CHORRILLOS, Peru — Sitting atop the jagged cliffs of Chorrillos overlooking the Pacific Ocean is El Salto Del Fraile Restaurante, a swanky eatery that’s been open for over 30 years. From 1 p.m. on, seven days a week, the surrounding streets and beaches are lined with people, cars, and buses, all planning a trip to the location.
Most of the time though, these people aren’t stopping by to eat.
Instead, their attention is captivated by the scene outside, where Fernando Canchari, 52, has been cliff diving for tour buses, visitors, and other onlookers for nearly 40 years. Garbed in a white friar’s robe and working solely for tips, Canchari’s heartstopping leap presents the real threat of injury or death, but he said he keeps getting better and better.
“It’s my job, life, and passion,” he said. “People come from all over knowing there’s a man who dives dressed as a friar.”
Canchari’s multiple-times-a-day stunt — once performed 39 times in a single afternoon — is shocking, yet calculated. Each jump follows the exact same formula: waving down a tour bus, making his trek to the edge of the rocks, dramatically gesticulating with his arms while praying, and taking the leap of faith.
His jump, from nearly 46 feet high, not only wows tourists, it helps preserve a piece of Chorrillos history. It’s a Romeo and Juliet-esque legend dating back to the 1860s. The story details two young Peruvians, named Francisco and Clara, who were not allowed to be in love due to their differences in wealth. Francisco, the son of a maid, was sent to a monastery against his will by Clara’s rich, powerful parents. Eventually, Clara too was sent away to Chile, and as her boat was departing forever, Francisco raced to the top of the Chorrillos cliffs to hurl himself to his death, with Clara, watching from the boat, quickly following suit.
“When I lift my arms,” Canchari said, referring to his pre-dive rituals, “I can feel what the friar once felt. People get into the story after hearing it and seeing me dive. It’s almost like they transport themselves to that time, and honestly I do too.”
Orphaned at 13 years old, Canchari began diving the following year, purely for fun. A few years later, when the restaurant was established, they wanted a diver to help retell the story. Today, Canchari is not affiliated with the restaurant, and he’s one of four divers, though he says he’s the only one there seven days a week. His wife and daughters also work roadside, selling snacks and drinks to visitors.
While his body has taken a beating over the years, and he really feels the wear and tear when he goes home at the end of the day, his love for his work has never subsided.
“The sea is relative, it’s unpredictable,” he said. “One day it’s calm, the next day it’s rough. But thank God I’m standing here and doing what I love most.”