What a great adventure to have so near the end or our trip! Friends Vince and Cindy decided to take a road trip from El Sargento to Bahia Los Frailes south of Cabo Pulmo. They invited us to come along for three days of camping on the beach at Los Frailes. The trip began with a drive on the east cape road, a small dirt road beginning near Buena Vista just south of Los Barriles. Of course Vince and Cindy know all the little tiendas along the way and which ones even offer warm snacks. Our first stop produced empanadas for a quick lunch. The next, in La Ribera featured ice cold Pacificos "en papel." I watched closely after Vince made that request. What happened was this: a beer koozey was quickly fashioned out of an old page of newspaper! And it worked. My beer stayed cold in the 80 degree weather until the last drop was gone.
In Cabo Pulmo we stopped to visit a friend of Vince's from several years back. This fellow was a German expat with a new hobby of making guitars. He showed us three that were in progress, his first three ever. What a curious thing to try while living in this remote area where wood is rare and mail order non-existent! We were ready to leave Cabo Pulmo when Vince decided to make one more loop through the town saying he'd really like to see Juan out wandering around. And sure enough, Vince found him on our second pass through. Juan was one of the first residents of Cabo Pulmo, starting the first dive shop there. Juan offered to let us camp near his old stone house when he heard we were going camping. Vince thanked him, but in the end decided to stick with the original plan.
Driving a little further south on the east cape road, we found Los Frailes,shaped like a giant letter "C" defining what might be called a cove. At each end of the "C" there was a rocky point. Given that the Baja Pennisula runs mainly north and south, with the Sea of Cortez lapping the eastern shores, this beach cove was oriented a bit peculiarly. Facing the ocean, the left tip of the "C" was due east, the ocean to the south and just before you completed your turn inward to the shore toward the other point, you would find the western sky. This unusual orientation gave the beach protection from the winds which usually blow from the north. It promised to be a sweet get-away. The curve of the "C" held a gently sloped sandy beach. About one third of the way down the beach from the east was a string of palapas offering shade. Another 50 yards down the beach a fence line running perpendicular to the beach defined the boundary of the National Park established to protect Cabo Pulmo's reefs. Just beyond the fence sat a nearly abandoned fish camp. Fishing pongas still launched from the camp, but it appeared as if no one had stayed in the ramshackle abodes that defined the camp.
Vince explained that the palapa side of the beach long ago was a camping area, but then all the campers had been asked to leave, and for many years the area was closed to campers. It had just recently opened back up as a free camping area, but word was only starting to get out that it was open again. That explained the fact that although there were two parties of day users on the beach when we arrived, we were the only overnight campers. By the time we unloaded Vince and Cindy's giant cooler for happy hour, we had the entire beach to ourselves. Snacks before dinner included some yummy fish salad Vince had made from the Amberjack and sierra left-over from our fish fry the night before. After the hot drive and a cool cocktail, everyone needed a dip in the ocean to cool off, which was quickly accomplished. Without much fuss at all Vince and Cindy quickly had a kitchen established near the palapas, complete with propane lantern, stove, cooking surfaces and table. Vince seasoned up some Mexican steak, fried it and chopped it, while Cindy heated her famous beans and prepped a fresh salsa. It was roll-your-own-tacos night and it was tasty!
When bedtime rolled around, Vince carried a couple of queen-sized foam mattresses from the car. Bruce selected a spot on the beach for our "bedroom" and Cindy supplied a "bed in a bag" complete with pillows and Mexican blankets. We slept at ocean's edge under the stars. That middle of the night bathroom break came with a short walk through the sand and a limitless view of stars. The moon rose so bright I was happy it awakened me so as not to miss out on the sight of the moonlit mast of the lone sailboat anchored in our cove. When dawn broke over the Sea of Cortez, I had only to open my eyes and roll my head side to side for a complete showing of the entire sunrise and it's reflection on the few dotted cloud.
At dawn Vince walked maybe 50 yards from out campsite to stand outside the National Park boundary and cast a line out from shore. Bruce and I joined him while Cindy enjoyed a long walk. We were entertained by flying manta rays breaking the water's surface and one sea lion who seemed to be swimming laps from the park border to the end of our little cove. Although Vince only caught a fish to be used as bait, we enjoyed the sights of flying fish, spouting whale and swimming sea lion.
After breakfast we walked to the east bend of our cove with our snorkel gear. A rocky coastline promised clear waters and possibly good snorkeling. I figured we had already seen the best snorkeling Baja had to offer during our stays in Cabo Pulmo and in El Sargento, but I was soon to be proven wrong. Here, off the rocky coast, we found deep clear water inhabited by many kinds of fish we'd never seen before, as well as by some of our favorites from Cabo Pulmo. Here they were not only bigger, but they swam in larger schools. I've still not found the right words to describe my favorite fish. Their length was of a shorter porportion than say that of a trout, making them look a bit rounder, but not as round as an angelfish. The top portion of their bodies was silver and gold striped, with the bottom portion assuming a total silver color. The colors seemed iridescent in the underwater light, with the sunlight highlighting the upper portion of their bodies. It looked as if the sunlight was indeed captured and reflected off of the top portion. They usually were found in small groups do six to eight individuals averaging about two inches long. Whenever I saw them I felt like I'd just caught a glimpse of scattered sunlight. Here I snorkeled in the the midst of a whole school of these beautiful creatures. I swam surrounded by 20 or 30 of them averaging 4 or 5 inches in length! I could only stop and marvel at the wonder of being in their midst. I got to see schools of other larger fish as well, but those bits of sunlight were by far my favorites. The swim back to our sandy beach took me through some murkier water where it was difficult to see much of anything. What I could see, however, were shafts of sunlight filtering through and reflecting off the water-born sand. It reminded me of watching Northern Lights, so elusively beautiful.
As the day progressed, so did the murkiness of the water. By afternoon we contented ourselves with lazy sunbathing punctuated by cooling swims in the ocean. For dinner on our second night, Bruce made chicken fajitas featuring fresh and local peppers, onions and cilantro with the ubitiquous handmade tortillas. Our second night on the beach was as glorious as the first, sleeping at ocean's door under the star-studded skies.
The third day of our trip began much the same way as the second: fishing, walking, watching flying manta rays, but missing the sea lion. We marveled that we still had the beach to ourselves although two more sailboats had joined the one in our cove. Before breakfast, the day had warmed so that we all had taken several dips in the ocean. We decided to break camp before lunch allowing time on the drive back for stops at beaches that looked inviting.
The first stop was at the point just north of Cabo Pulmo where Juan had told us we could camp. The waters and warm rocks looked inviting, so in we dove. We dried ourselves and our suits basking on the rocks before heading down the road. The next stop, at a beach named Las Barracas offered a sandy beach with off shore rocks which might give some interesting snorkeling. And that it did. Nothing to compare to the show we enjoyed at Los Frailes, but still some interesting fish. This stop marked the northern boundary of the National Park, so now we had snorkeled at the heart of the park in Cabo Pulmo, the southern end of the park in Los Frailes and now the northern tip. Again our beach was secluded, so much so that I was able to peel out of my wet suit and into dry clothes before the dry drive back to La Ribera.
At La Ribera Bruce and I were able to stock up on enough groceries to get us through most of our last week in Baja. We had decided to spend it in Buena Vista just south of Los Barriles. Our yurt is only one block from the ocean, but a grueling 1.5 mile walk along the soft beach sands is required to get to a grocery store. It was positively wonderful that Vince and Cindy didn't mind waiting for us to shop in La Ribera before dropping us off at our yurt, concluding our wonderful tour of the east cape.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Monday, March 24, 2014
Lively Fishing on the Sea of Cortez!
It was before daybreak,even, that Bruce and I waited for Vince and Cindy for a full day of fishing. Vince , through his experiences down here and his command of the language, has gotten to know a couple of professional fisherman. Using this contact, Vince chartered a boat and a pilot/guide to take us out. A gringo friend of Vince and Cindy's introduced as "Hawk" let us use his gear and joined us on the boat. Since bait has been tough to find this year, Hawk also brought an assortment of giant sized lures and spoons. The boat, owner, guide and truck to "launch" us were all waiting for us at the beach. As I watched pelicans silhouetted against the sunrise,Our pilot/guide Victor maneuvered the 25' ponga boat across the glassy sea toward an island we had watched from our beach outside our casita.
I missed the signal, but at a certain point, Vince and Hawk began rigging the lines. I could see that there is a science to not only rigging the lines, but rigging them and placing them in the rod holders for trolling in such a way that they will be effective and not get tangled as the boat made slight turns. Cindy had already given me instructions on how she holds the rod for reeling in, as it takes quite a bit of upper body strength. Then came a discussion on how you know if you've had a strike, whether or not you need to set the hook and how to get 'em in the boat. After 10 silent minutes of raptly watching rod ends, we all got distracted with conversation. Apparently Cindy was the only one still glancing at the rods as she quickly maneuvered into position and began giving us all a live demo on how to reel in a fish. I had to watch her face after I saw how slowly she would crank the reel....that was when I got an inkling of how different this might be from trout fishing in America. Before too long Vince and Hawk were egging Cindy on, or maybe just trying to make her laugh, by asking what was taking her so long to reel in the fish. Finally, I caught just a glimpse of a flash of silver while looking over the side of the boat. Gosh, it looked a long ways down! I knew from snorkeling outside our casita how exceptionally clear these waters are and wondered exactly how big that fish would be when brought to the surface. Another five minutes of reeling and finally the fish was near the surface and Victor identitified it as a barelete Vince and Hawk seemed a little disappointed, but Victor made it clear a photo was needed as he drug the fish onto the boat with his gaff. The thing must have been two feet long and I wondered what the disappointment was. Vince asked Victor if the barelete was good to eat. Victor shrugged, saying, "For me, yes, it makes good ceviche." I guess the gringos are not too excited about eating them. Vince noticed the next strike, but instead of running to the rod himself, he motioned me over to it! Yikes! Ok, so I tried to start reeling and couldn't even turn the crank! What the......? Victor was soon by my side chattering rapidly in Spanish and finally I understood what he meant, pull the rod tip up, then crank while slowly lowering the rod....over and over. I could hear Victor behind me repeating his instructions in a rhythm that matched the motion and soon I was making it happen. Sure felt like I must have had a whale pulling against me! The fish didn't seem to struggle much or change direction, he was just dang heavy. And so I continued the rhythmic reeling hoping my strength would outlast the fish. I found I had a new understanding of Hemingway's classic description of the struggle in Old Man and the Sea. When we were granted our first glimpse of the fish, Victor's disappointing identification called out, "barelete" and ....well...I kind of figured it really wasn't a whale...but it sure was fun reeling in that big ole thing! Then when Victor handed me the gaff with fish dangling from it for another photo, the fish startled me by giving a sudden twitch of his whole body. I instinctively hopped away from it and that gave everybody on the boat a laugh. I took a big gulp of air and accepted the gaff, readying myself for any sudden and unexpected twitches in the part of the fish. By the end of the day we had collected three bareletes. Hawk kept one to cut up for bait. Only after asking our permission, Victor gave the other two away to a friend of his we passed at the end of the day.
During a lull in the fishing action and in the midst of Victor's story of an abandoned ranch on the island, we noticed something coming up out of the water, then another, then a small blow hole appeared. We were surrounded by dolphins! They were swimming all around us, many of them breaching the surface, others swiftly swimming with only a dorsal fin visible. We stayed with them for quite awhile. As we all stood wordlessly watching the dolphins, it felt like a magical moment.
After that action, Victor took us to a place where we should begin a different type of fishing called yo-yoing. It was like what we might do in Montana when we jig, but this was on a much bigger scale: bigger hooks, bigger spoons, deeper water, bigger fish. Even just the empty line was heavy. Victor told us we should find the ocean floor, then pull the hook up about twenty feet and move the hook up and down. When trout fishing, we can quickly feel the bottom and can then use just a finger in the line to bounce the hook up and down. Here it took a looooong time before our big spoons and hooks stopped at the bottom. Then to move the hook up and down took full body motion. Bruce had just found bottom and I was slack-jawed over how much line I had let out and still hadn't hit bottom when it was time to move and try something else. Soon we were back to trolling again.
Barelete was not the only species caught that day. Bruce was the first to notice the next movement in the poles. He got right on it and kept teasing us saying it was something little. He worked and worked to bring it in and then everybody got excited when we got our first flash of silver beside the boat. Victor called out the Spanish name, "pes fuerte" translating literally to "strong fish." Hawk, meanwhile called out the only name he knew for this fish, "amberjack!". Now even Vince was excitedly watching Victor with the gaff to see the new fish. It was a little different shape than the barelete: flatter and wider and longer. As Victor stepped by me he caught my eye and quietly let me know, "Es un grande!". Vince and Hawk looked on with interest, Hawk saying it was early in the season to be catching these. Vince mentioned that he had never caught one and Hawk said he'd never eaten one, but had heard they were really good. Hawk noticed the next pole movement and again motioned me to go for it. I think he had as much fun watching me figure out how to use this big gear as he did using it himself. Again I had to concentrate on the rhythm of pulling up, then reeling while lowering the rod tip. This time, however, the fish jerked around a bit and changed direction. He really was a lot more fun than the barelete. I was enchanted by the process of how much work it took desperately trying to hang onto this fish before ever knowing what type of creature was at the end of my line. All I could see was deep blue sea and my line disappearing into it. Finally someone called out that they could see it. Again Victor was the first to identify it, "pes fuerte.". Oh boy! We were all excited about that. On board it came with the help of Victor and the gaff. More photos, and no one really mentioned just then how much smaller mine was than Bruce's.
The next variety of fish to be pulled out of the ocean was bonita. I had eaten this before, but Vince and Cindy were excited to make sushi out of the bonita. I think Bruce and Vince each caught on of these guys. The last fish reeled in was hooked by Bruce and reeled in by Cindy. This fish was not very exciting looking, but everybody was excited to see a sierra come on board. Even I had enjoyed sierra at a friend's house in Montana, so I knew this was a good fish to eat.
As we trolled homeward, Victor told us of a sea lion colony on one of the points. The sea lions had been "transplanted" from another part of Baja where there had been too many. Victor was afraid they would become a problem here too as the population seemed to be growing. Victor instructed us to bring in our lines and he turned the boat toward the rocky point. We were all scouring the horizon with our eyes, straining to see if there were birds or sea lions on the nearest rocks. After we watched a few fly away, we were close enough we could see the sea lions themselves sunning on the rocks. One displayed an ugly wound in its side, Victor saying it looked like a shark bite and that the sea lion looked pretty sickly. The others all looked lively: everything from big ole bulls to cute little pups and the full spectrum in between. Some slipped into the water for a playful swim while others barked from the rocks and still others seemed to float on their backs, bellies up to the sun. What fun creatures were these to watch! Victor carefully kept the boat from bumping into the rocks while also keeping us so very close for observation. With the number and size, variety and quantity of fish caught this trip had already been a success. Seeing the dolphins and the sea lions was an added bonus for us.
Once Victor got us to shore and the owner pulled the boat onto the trailer, Victor's day still was not done. We all went to the boat owner's house. There under a shade tree and on a plastic table, Victor expertly cleaned and bagged the fish for us, always careful to ask Vince how he wanted the fish filleted. Yoyo, the boat owner showed us his "hoya" where this evening he would start a fire. When the fire burned to coals he would put a goat into a Dutch oven and put the oven down in the hole. The hole, lined with fire brick would keep the coals hot all night. Yoyo would then bury the whole works and by afternoon it should be ready for his grandson's quinciera, a very special birthday party. After he shared the grapefruit with us that a friend had given him, we settled our bill, including a good tip for all the extras. What a day it had been!
But wait, our day wasn't over yet. It was only 5:00, so Vince and Cindy insisted on cooking up some of the fish while it was fresh off the boat. We all ended up back at Vince and Cindy's, everyone pitching in to help cook and soon we were sampling raw bonita with wasabi, grilled amberjack and sierra that had been breaded and fried. It was all delicious. That night we all turned in early, knowing for ourselves that the amberjack is the best tasting fish of everything we caught that day.
I missed the signal, but at a certain point, Vince and Hawk began rigging the lines. I could see that there is a science to not only rigging the lines, but rigging them and placing them in the rod holders for trolling in such a way that they will be effective and not get tangled as the boat made slight turns. Cindy had already given me instructions on how she holds the rod for reeling in, as it takes quite a bit of upper body strength. Then came a discussion on how you know if you've had a strike, whether or not you need to set the hook and how to get 'em in the boat. After 10 silent minutes of raptly watching rod ends, we all got distracted with conversation. Apparently Cindy was the only one still glancing at the rods as she quickly maneuvered into position and began giving us all a live demo on how to reel in a fish. I had to watch her face after I saw how slowly she would crank the reel....that was when I got an inkling of how different this might be from trout fishing in America. Before too long Vince and Hawk were egging Cindy on, or maybe just trying to make her laugh, by asking what was taking her so long to reel in the fish. Finally, I caught just a glimpse of a flash of silver while looking over the side of the boat. Gosh, it looked a long ways down! I knew from snorkeling outside our casita how exceptionally clear these waters are and wondered exactly how big that fish would be when brought to the surface. Another five minutes of reeling and finally the fish was near the surface and Victor identitified it as a barelete Vince and Hawk seemed a little disappointed, but Victor made it clear a photo was needed as he drug the fish onto the boat with his gaff. The thing must have been two feet long and I wondered what the disappointment was. Vince asked Victor if the barelete was good to eat. Victor shrugged, saying, "For me, yes, it makes good ceviche." I guess the gringos are not too excited about eating them. Vince noticed the next strike, but instead of running to the rod himself, he motioned me over to it! Yikes! Ok, so I tried to start reeling and couldn't even turn the crank! What the......? Victor was soon by my side chattering rapidly in Spanish and finally I understood what he meant, pull the rod tip up, then crank while slowly lowering the rod....over and over. I could hear Victor behind me repeating his instructions in a rhythm that matched the motion and soon I was making it happen. Sure felt like I must have had a whale pulling against me! The fish didn't seem to struggle much or change direction, he was just dang heavy. And so I continued the rhythmic reeling hoping my strength would outlast the fish. I found I had a new understanding of Hemingway's classic description of the struggle in Old Man and the Sea. When we were granted our first glimpse of the fish, Victor's disappointing identification called out, "barelete" and ....well...I kind of figured it really wasn't a whale...but it sure was fun reeling in that big ole thing! Then when Victor handed me the gaff with fish dangling from it for another photo, the fish startled me by giving a sudden twitch of his whole body. I instinctively hopped away from it and that gave everybody on the boat a laugh. I took a big gulp of air and accepted the gaff, readying myself for any sudden and unexpected twitches in the part of the fish. By the end of the day we had collected three bareletes. Hawk kept one to cut up for bait. Only after asking our permission, Victor gave the other two away to a friend of his we passed at the end of the day.
During a lull in the fishing action and in the midst of Victor's story of an abandoned ranch on the island, we noticed something coming up out of the water, then another, then a small blow hole appeared. We were surrounded by dolphins! They were swimming all around us, many of them breaching the surface, others swiftly swimming with only a dorsal fin visible. We stayed with them for quite awhile. As we all stood wordlessly watching the dolphins, it felt like a magical moment.
After that action, Victor took us to a place where we should begin a different type of fishing called yo-yoing. It was like what we might do in Montana when we jig, but this was on a much bigger scale: bigger hooks, bigger spoons, deeper water, bigger fish. Even just the empty line was heavy. Victor told us we should find the ocean floor, then pull the hook up about twenty feet and move the hook up and down. When trout fishing, we can quickly feel the bottom and can then use just a finger in the line to bounce the hook up and down. Here it took a looooong time before our big spoons and hooks stopped at the bottom. Then to move the hook up and down took full body motion. Bruce had just found bottom and I was slack-jawed over how much line I had let out and still hadn't hit bottom when it was time to move and try something else. Soon we were back to trolling again.
Barelete was not the only species caught that day. Bruce was the first to notice the next movement in the poles. He got right on it and kept teasing us saying it was something little. He worked and worked to bring it in and then everybody got excited when we got our first flash of silver beside the boat. Victor called out the Spanish name, "pes fuerte" translating literally to "strong fish." Hawk, meanwhile called out the only name he knew for this fish, "amberjack!". Now even Vince was excitedly watching Victor with the gaff to see the new fish. It was a little different shape than the barelete: flatter and wider and longer. As Victor stepped by me he caught my eye and quietly let me know, "Es un grande!". Vince and Hawk looked on with interest, Hawk saying it was early in the season to be catching these. Vince mentioned that he had never caught one and Hawk said he'd never eaten one, but had heard they were really good. Hawk noticed the next pole movement and again motioned me to go for it. I think he had as much fun watching me figure out how to use this big gear as he did using it himself. Again I had to concentrate on the rhythm of pulling up, then reeling while lowering the rod tip. This time, however, the fish jerked around a bit and changed direction. He really was a lot more fun than the barelete. I was enchanted by the process of how much work it took desperately trying to hang onto this fish before ever knowing what type of creature was at the end of my line. All I could see was deep blue sea and my line disappearing into it. Finally someone called out that they could see it. Again Victor was the first to identify it, "pes fuerte.". Oh boy! We were all excited about that. On board it came with the help of Victor and the gaff. More photos, and no one really mentioned just then how much smaller mine was than Bruce's.
The next variety of fish to be pulled out of the ocean was bonita. I had eaten this before, but Vince and Cindy were excited to make sushi out of the bonita. I think Bruce and Vince each caught on of these guys. The last fish reeled in was hooked by Bruce and reeled in by Cindy. This fish was not very exciting looking, but everybody was excited to see a sierra come on board. Even I had enjoyed sierra at a friend's house in Montana, so I knew this was a good fish to eat.
As we trolled homeward, Victor told us of a sea lion colony on one of the points. The sea lions had been "transplanted" from another part of Baja where there had been too many. Victor was afraid they would become a problem here too as the population seemed to be growing. Victor instructed us to bring in our lines and he turned the boat toward the rocky point. We were all scouring the horizon with our eyes, straining to see if there were birds or sea lions on the nearest rocks. After we watched a few fly away, we were close enough we could see the sea lions themselves sunning on the rocks. One displayed an ugly wound in its side, Victor saying it looked like a shark bite and that the sea lion looked pretty sickly. The others all looked lively: everything from big ole bulls to cute little pups and the full spectrum in between. Some slipped into the water for a playful swim while others barked from the rocks and still others seemed to float on their backs, bellies up to the sun. What fun creatures were these to watch! Victor carefully kept the boat from bumping into the rocks while also keeping us so very close for observation. With the number and size, variety and quantity of fish caught this trip had already been a success. Seeing the dolphins and the sea lions was an added bonus for us.
Once Victor got us to shore and the owner pulled the boat onto the trailer, Victor's day still was not done. We all went to the boat owner's house. There under a shade tree and on a plastic table, Victor expertly cleaned and bagged the fish for us, always careful to ask Vince how he wanted the fish filleted. Yoyo, the boat owner showed us his "hoya" where this evening he would start a fire. When the fire burned to coals he would put a goat into a Dutch oven and put the oven down in the hole. The hole, lined with fire brick would keep the coals hot all night. Yoyo would then bury the whole works and by afternoon it should be ready for his grandson's quinciera, a very special birthday party. After he shared the grapefruit with us that a friend had given him, we settled our bill, including a good tip for all the extras. What a day it had been!
But wait, our day wasn't over yet. It was only 5:00, so Vince and Cindy insisted on cooking up some of the fish while it was fresh off the boat. We all ended up back at Vince and Cindy's, everyone pitching in to help cook and soon we were sampling raw bonita with wasabi, grilled amberjack and sierra that had been breaded and fried. It was all delicious. That night we all turned in early, knowing for ourselves that the amberjack is the best tasting fish of everything we caught that day.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Journey to El Sargento
Leaving Cabo Pulmo was hard in more ways than one. I'm always sad to take leave of a place that has been kind to us, even more so when there are things left unexplored! We are endebted to Bob for getting us to Cabo Pulmo in the first place, as it has been a goal since our first trip down here. Before we even got to Baja this year, Bruce proposed several alternative plans for getting us out of Cabo Pulmo once Bob left with the car. We felt pretty sure that after 10 days in any one place we would find somebody willing to give us a ride. Failing that, we thought we could hitch a ride from Cabo Pulmo to Los Barriles, gringo Mecca of the east cape, with plenty of lodging and bus service. From Los Barriles we had a couple of choices: we could do what we've done before and patch together a couple of bus systems to get from Los Barriles to La Paz and from La Paz to El Sargento. If you are tracing our route on a map that shows the major roads, you will see that this is the long way around to El Sargento from Los Barriles. What the map doesn't show you is the inconvenience of the bus schedules. Choosing this alternative would mean nothing less than two days travel time to get to El Sargento. Then Bruce came up with another alternative: hitch to Los Barriles from Cabo Pulmo, spend the night in Los Barriles, bus to the small town of San Antonio, hitch from San Antonio via the shortcut (where no buses go) into El Sargento. This way would be shorter, fast and cheaper.
Once in Cabo Pulmo, I became less confident of our ability to find a ride out of there. Many of the tourists are on day trips from Cabo San Lucas or San Jose del Cabo, both located south of Cabo Pulmo. A local resident informed us of the number of people actually living in Cabo Pulmo and suggested we post a notice on the local electronic bulletin board. For some unknown reason, Bruce refused that alternative. When we hadn't met anyone headed the same direction as our travels, our landlord said he could drive us, but that would mean a special trip for him into Los Barriles and we knew he had just made that drive two days ago. The only option remaining was to station ourselves on the only shady spot on the road out of town and travel Sissy Hankshaw style, with our thumbs extended. Fortunately, we had started early and only had an hour wait before the day got too hot and we caught a ride from a man who said he'd been in Cabo Pulmo for over twenty years. On the drive to Los Barriles we learned that meant he'd been coming down to Cabo Pulmo from the US for over twenty years and that he was well versed in the gringo dynamics of the area. From him, we got quite a lesson in local history, though somewhat one-sided. He was kind enough to drop us off right at the Los Barriles bus station so we could check the schedule for the following day. A not too distant walk brought us to Charlie's Chocolates where I lamented that we could only buy a one day supply (who knew how long those yummy chocolates would have to sit in my warm bag until we got to El Sagento). And then on to a hotel.
Our stay in Los Barriles was somewhat uneventful, except for the spectacular wind storm there. The kite and wind surfers put on a good show; we just couldn't stay out in the blowing sand to enjoy it for very long. Further inland where the restaurants are, things were calmer and we did enjoy a couple of great meals there: pork carnitas, chile rellenos and a fine breakfast of fried eggs, ranchero style.
By 9 AM the next morning, we were on the bus. I sat back and enjoyed the soft murmur of Spanish in the background, mingled with the usual mix of Mexican music. We hadn't gotten much of that this trip. We were the only gringos in the bus and we were absolutely the only people getting off in San Antonio. A short walk took us to the shortcut road to La Ventana and El Sargento. Before too long a Mexican man picked us up and dropped us off just before he had to turn west toward La Paz. It was interesting talking to him. He is a musician (plays percussion) and teaches at the state music school in La Paz. His real passion seemed to be the ranchero he owns near San Antonio where he raises over 300 chickens. He sells the eggs and meat to his friends in La Paz. As he let us out, he had to step out of the truck so he could open the cooler in the back and show us the plump chickens he was taking to his friends. They looked bigger and less fatty than the whole roasters we see in Livingston's grocery stores, that's for sure.
As soon as we got out of the truck we could see that the wind had followed us from Los Barriles. We were just deciding where we should stand when another truck pulled over and motioned for us to hop in the back. It actually felt less windy riding in the back of the truck than it did standing by the side of the road. This ride took us to within an easy walking distance of the casita we had rented for the week in El Sargento. We dropped our bags on the front porch before wandering back to the nearby grocery store to stock up for a few days. By the time we got back, our landlady also came home and we had a fun little reunion.
By evening, friends Vince and Cindy found us and took us to their house for dinner. It was fun to see them again and to see the progress on their house including unusual floor paintings by Livingston artist (and co-owner of the house) Parks Reese. We stayed up way too late visiting, but then, None of us had to get up early the next morning, so it was all good fun.
Since then our time here has been divided between the beach out front of our place and goofing around with Vince and Cindy. We spent one really windy day lazing around and reading. I think the whole town (except a few intrepid kite surfers) was doing the same. Yesterday Vince and Cindy took us "touring." As I sat in the back with Cindy and the boys up front wondered if they were on the right road winding through the desert I felt like I was a kid again sitting in the back seat of the family station wagon driving through the Arizona desert to a favored picnic spot. Only this time, we ended up at a real Mexican ranchero, with patron standing outside the car talking to Vince; the conversation punctuated with my new favorite Spanish phrase, "asi es....siiiiiii, asi es." (This is how it is....yeeees, this is how it is) I tried to understand some of the conversation, but what we all understood was the curiosity of the women and of the older ranch men who cautiously and one at a time, peered around a corner of the hacienda or the outdoor kitchen to see what this excitement was. This part of the desert was so forsaken, we thought we might be lost and we had stopped to ask how far we were from a known town. Turns out we were close to the town and Vince ended up making a new friend there in the middle of the desert!
Today was a most pleasant day on our beach. The wind was calm all day. So we not only got in our regular dose of sunshine and reading, but also got to do some snorkeling. We saw the lovely angelfish we first met at Cabo Pulmo and we saw several new varieties. The water here is very clear, calm and moderately deep. All of that added up to many happy and successful snorkeling hours. On this side of the Baja Pennisula, the water is so calm, that we can lay on the beach and still hear the trill songs of the birds further inland. We also are seeing more pelicans than we saw on the Pacific side and we are seeing a few whales. I love to watch the pelicans skim over the water's surface. It looks like they might dangle the tips of their wing into the water, but they are always just a wee bit above the surface.
Tomorrow promises more of the same activity. Our casita comes with beach chairs and a kayak. What better surroundings for enjoying a volume of magical realism I picked up in Cabp Pulmo! It does all feel rather magical here in sunny Mexico in the middle of March.
Once in Cabo Pulmo, I became less confident of our ability to find a ride out of there. Many of the tourists are on day trips from Cabo San Lucas or San Jose del Cabo, both located south of Cabo Pulmo. A local resident informed us of the number of people actually living in Cabo Pulmo and suggested we post a notice on the local electronic bulletin board. For some unknown reason, Bruce refused that alternative. When we hadn't met anyone headed the same direction as our travels, our landlord said he could drive us, but that would mean a special trip for him into Los Barriles and we knew he had just made that drive two days ago. The only option remaining was to station ourselves on the only shady spot on the road out of town and travel Sissy Hankshaw style, with our thumbs extended. Fortunately, we had started early and only had an hour wait before the day got too hot and we caught a ride from a man who said he'd been in Cabo Pulmo for over twenty years. On the drive to Los Barriles we learned that meant he'd been coming down to Cabo Pulmo from the US for over twenty years and that he was well versed in the gringo dynamics of the area. From him, we got quite a lesson in local history, though somewhat one-sided. He was kind enough to drop us off right at the Los Barriles bus station so we could check the schedule for the following day. A not too distant walk brought us to Charlie's Chocolates where I lamented that we could only buy a one day supply (who knew how long those yummy chocolates would have to sit in my warm bag until we got to El Sagento). And then on to a hotel.
Our stay in Los Barriles was somewhat uneventful, except for the spectacular wind storm there. The kite and wind surfers put on a good show; we just couldn't stay out in the blowing sand to enjoy it for very long. Further inland where the restaurants are, things were calmer and we did enjoy a couple of great meals there: pork carnitas, chile rellenos and a fine breakfast of fried eggs, ranchero style.
By 9 AM the next morning, we were on the bus. I sat back and enjoyed the soft murmur of Spanish in the background, mingled with the usual mix of Mexican music. We hadn't gotten much of that this trip. We were the only gringos in the bus and we were absolutely the only people getting off in San Antonio. A short walk took us to the shortcut road to La Ventana and El Sargento. Before too long a Mexican man picked us up and dropped us off just before he had to turn west toward La Paz. It was interesting talking to him. He is a musician (plays percussion) and teaches at the state music school in La Paz. His real passion seemed to be the ranchero he owns near San Antonio where he raises over 300 chickens. He sells the eggs and meat to his friends in La Paz. As he let us out, he had to step out of the truck so he could open the cooler in the back and show us the plump chickens he was taking to his friends. They looked bigger and less fatty than the whole roasters we see in Livingston's grocery stores, that's for sure.
As soon as we got out of the truck we could see that the wind had followed us from Los Barriles. We were just deciding where we should stand when another truck pulled over and motioned for us to hop in the back. It actually felt less windy riding in the back of the truck than it did standing by the side of the road. This ride took us to within an easy walking distance of the casita we had rented for the week in El Sargento. We dropped our bags on the front porch before wandering back to the nearby grocery store to stock up for a few days. By the time we got back, our landlady also came home and we had a fun little reunion.
By evening, friends Vince and Cindy found us and took us to their house for dinner. It was fun to see them again and to see the progress on their house including unusual floor paintings by Livingston artist (and co-owner of the house) Parks Reese. We stayed up way too late visiting, but then, None of us had to get up early the next morning, so it was all good fun.
Since then our time here has been divided between the beach out front of our place and goofing around with Vince and Cindy. We spent one really windy day lazing around and reading. I think the whole town (except a few intrepid kite surfers) was doing the same. Yesterday Vince and Cindy took us "touring." As I sat in the back with Cindy and the boys up front wondered if they were on the right road winding through the desert I felt like I was a kid again sitting in the back seat of the family station wagon driving through the Arizona desert to a favored picnic spot. Only this time, we ended up at a real Mexican ranchero, with patron standing outside the car talking to Vince; the conversation punctuated with my new favorite Spanish phrase, "asi es....siiiiiii, asi es." (This is how it is....yeeees, this is how it is) I tried to understand some of the conversation, but what we all understood was the curiosity of the women and of the older ranch men who cautiously and one at a time, peered around a corner of the hacienda or the outdoor kitchen to see what this excitement was. This part of the desert was so forsaken, we thought we might be lost and we had stopped to ask how far we were from a known town. Turns out we were close to the town and Vince ended up making a new friend there in the middle of the desert!
Today was a most pleasant day on our beach. The wind was calm all day. So we not only got in our regular dose of sunshine and reading, but also got to do some snorkeling. We saw the lovely angelfish we first met at Cabo Pulmo and we saw several new varieties. The water here is very clear, calm and moderately deep. All of that added up to many happy and successful snorkeling hours. On this side of the Baja Pennisula, the water is so calm, that we can lay on the beach and still hear the trill songs of the birds further inland. We also are seeing more pelicans than we saw on the Pacific side and we are seeing a few whales. I love to watch the pelicans skim over the water's surface. It looks like they might dangle the tips of their wing into the water, but they are always just a wee bit above the surface.
Tomorrow promises more of the same activity. Our casita comes with beach chairs and a kayak. What better surroundings for enjoying a volume of magical realism I picked up in Cabp Pulmo! It does all feel rather magical here in sunny Mexico in the middle of March.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Snorkeling from the Beach
We are now perched in a very small town called Cabo Pulmo (population 120), known for its proximity to the only living coral reef in the Gulf of California. The reef is very close to shore here and in 1995 a national park was established to protect it. The main activities here include snorkeing, scuba diving, fishing, hiking nearby trails, or hiring a guide with horses to take you on a horseback ride through the trails.
Since neither one of use is particularly keen for scuba diving or horseback riding, that leaves snorkeling and hiking. A quick inquiry of a local gave us information as to where we can acces the hiking trails. Sounds like a 20 minute walk just to get to the trailheads, so unless we want to rent mountain bikes for the day, that is probably out. We also learned that it gets so hot here in the afternoon away from the Sea of Cortez/Gulf of California all hiking needs to happen early in the morning. That left snorkeling for us, since we have grown overly fond of our leisurely mornings. With nothing less than 5 places renting equipment we had plenty of choices. They are all in close proximity, so a quick survey of all revealed the going rate and an alternate plan: we could buy two sets of fins, one mask and one snorkel for less than the weekly rental fee. Wa-la! We now own our own gear and have been snorkeling daily!
Our snorkeling adventures began in La Paz with the whale sharks. They continue here with us sampling the waters from various points along the coast. The fellow who sold us the gear recommended a spot a mere 10 minutes' walk from our casita. We headed there while Bob was here, wanting to free Bob from driving duties, but choosing to use his strong back for cooler/beer and lunch transport. This section of the beach seemed just out of reach from the other Cabo Pulmo tourists, so we had a fairly secluded spot to get familiar with our new equipment. We had a good time laughing at each other as we discovered it is easier to walk backwards than to walk forward in fins. I thought it might be easier to carry the fins to deeper water and put them on closer to where we'd actually use them. The fellows were entertained watching me get knocked over by tiny waves while attempting to balance on one foot, while fitting a fin over the other. Eventually we each devloped our own methods (notice I don't say "styles") for getting in the water with gear. Before too long, I was comfortable enough to swim to the reef. It was a rather murky journey out there with arrival marked by large dark shapes slowly coming into visibility. After a few more swishes with the fins Those dark shapes turned into beautiful bunches of coral on large rocks: yhe true coral color with white flutes. Next thing to come into myviewshed was a movement out of the corner of my eye..."what was it? Is it a danger?" I anxiously kept watch and the darting shadow turned into a beautiful angelfish! I'd never seen anything like it before. I estimated 8 - 10 inches in length, 5 - 6 inches tall with bright yellow tail and a trace of yellow on what might be described as a forehead. Soon I was seeing a yellow version of the same fish with markings as distinct and beautiful as that of a wood duck. The poster at the dive center told me these were butterfly fish. The water seemed a little clearer nearer the reef and I could see small horizontally striped fish and larger vertically striped fish. Suddenly I was in nephew Matt's salt water aquarium! Remembering that we were all "taking turns" with the mask and snorkel and wanting to share my excitement, I headed back into the murk and out to the shore to tell Bruce and Bob what I'd seen. Bob took a turn and shared similar sightings. Bruce continued at his own pace learning to manage the new gear and stay close to shore. When we all were too tired to continue, we slurped down that cold beer from the cooler Bob had so graciously carried.
We enjoyed a couple of days at our secluded beach area before Bob had to head back to Cabo San Lucas to catch a plane back into Colorado's winter. Bruce and I had heard from some locals that Los Arbolitos, a beach an hour's walk from here, provided the best snorkeling. We packed a light lunch after a heavy egg, veggie and tortilla breakfast and headed out, missing Bob. We passed through a series of small beaches; at each one I found myself wondering, "Is this Los Arbolitos?" We knew there was a road to Los Arbolitos, so until we saw people on the beach, we trudged onward and the day got hotter and hotter. One beach offered a pelican haven, another offered rocky shores and a third was bordered by a slick rock that required hand holds to keep from sliding uncomfortably down a few feet. One short quiet beach, and more rocks to climb over. (Is this really the right way? The guy who gave us directions and distances was younger and fitter than either of us). At last we came upon a beach complete with palapas and plenty of gringos. Unfortunately, the high winds arrived with us. Oh well. I jumped right in and was immediately rewarded with clear vision of angelfish and all those striped fish. The water was so clear, I must confess, I was fascinated simply by the light on the ocean floor and the sight of my hands clearly focused as I pretended I was Lloyd Bridges. Those rocks we clamored over earlier became convenient lounge chairs for a simple lunch. A second dip in the water proved the winds had come up too much for our new found prowess. The sea had become so choppy that with every whitecap encountered, I got water down my snorkel and had to blow it out. I quickly gave up and by late afternoon we were hiking back to Cabo Pulmo.
Since then we have tried a spot nearer our casita. While the waters are shallower, the reef is closer and much clearer. This time Bruce got to see a giant angelfish. When he came back from his longest swim yet, he reported that it was "purely magical" swimming there under the sea (in the octopus's garden). Since then we have been content to take our mornings leisurely at the casita, spending our afternoons at the closest and clearest water near the reef. We've been seeing new fish, and now we have the added pleasure of watching other tourists find their own "techniques" for entering the water with newly rented gear.
Since neither one of use is particularly keen for scuba diving or horseback riding, that leaves snorkeling and hiking. A quick inquiry of a local gave us information as to where we can acces the hiking trails. Sounds like a 20 minute walk just to get to the trailheads, so unless we want to rent mountain bikes for the day, that is probably out. We also learned that it gets so hot here in the afternoon away from the Sea of Cortez/Gulf of California all hiking needs to happen early in the morning. That left snorkeling for us, since we have grown overly fond of our leisurely mornings. With nothing less than 5 places renting equipment we had plenty of choices. They are all in close proximity, so a quick survey of all revealed the going rate and an alternate plan: we could buy two sets of fins, one mask and one snorkel for less than the weekly rental fee. Wa-la! We now own our own gear and have been snorkeling daily!
Our snorkeling adventures began in La Paz with the whale sharks. They continue here with us sampling the waters from various points along the coast. The fellow who sold us the gear recommended a spot a mere 10 minutes' walk from our casita. We headed there while Bob was here, wanting to free Bob from driving duties, but choosing to use his strong back for cooler/beer and lunch transport. This section of the beach seemed just out of reach from the other Cabo Pulmo tourists, so we had a fairly secluded spot to get familiar with our new equipment. We had a good time laughing at each other as we discovered it is easier to walk backwards than to walk forward in fins. I thought it might be easier to carry the fins to deeper water and put them on closer to where we'd actually use them. The fellows were entertained watching me get knocked over by tiny waves while attempting to balance on one foot, while fitting a fin over the other. Eventually we each devloped our own methods (notice I don't say "styles") for getting in the water with gear. Before too long, I was comfortable enough to swim to the reef. It was a rather murky journey out there with arrival marked by large dark shapes slowly coming into visibility. After a few more swishes with the fins Those dark shapes turned into beautiful bunches of coral on large rocks: yhe true coral color with white flutes. Next thing to come into myviewshed was a movement out of the corner of my eye..."what was it? Is it a danger?" I anxiously kept watch and the darting shadow turned into a beautiful angelfish! I'd never seen anything like it before. I estimated 8 - 10 inches in length, 5 - 6 inches tall with bright yellow tail and a trace of yellow on what might be described as a forehead. Soon I was seeing a yellow version of the same fish with markings as distinct and beautiful as that of a wood duck. The poster at the dive center told me these were butterfly fish. The water seemed a little clearer nearer the reef and I could see small horizontally striped fish and larger vertically striped fish. Suddenly I was in nephew Matt's salt water aquarium! Remembering that we were all "taking turns" with the mask and snorkel and wanting to share my excitement, I headed back into the murk and out to the shore to tell Bruce and Bob what I'd seen. Bob took a turn and shared similar sightings. Bruce continued at his own pace learning to manage the new gear and stay close to shore. When we all were too tired to continue, we slurped down that cold beer from the cooler Bob had so graciously carried.
We enjoyed a couple of days at our secluded beach area before Bob had to head back to Cabo San Lucas to catch a plane back into Colorado's winter. Bruce and I had heard from some locals that Los Arbolitos, a beach an hour's walk from here, provided the best snorkeling. We packed a light lunch after a heavy egg, veggie and tortilla breakfast and headed out, missing Bob. We passed through a series of small beaches; at each one I found myself wondering, "Is this Los Arbolitos?" We knew there was a road to Los Arbolitos, so until we saw people on the beach, we trudged onward and the day got hotter and hotter. One beach offered a pelican haven, another offered rocky shores and a third was bordered by a slick rock that required hand holds to keep from sliding uncomfortably down a few feet. One short quiet beach, and more rocks to climb over. (Is this really the right way? The guy who gave us directions and distances was younger and fitter than either of us). At last we came upon a beach complete with palapas and plenty of gringos. Unfortunately, the high winds arrived with us. Oh well. I jumped right in and was immediately rewarded with clear vision of angelfish and all those striped fish. The water was so clear, I must confess, I was fascinated simply by the light on the ocean floor and the sight of my hands clearly focused as I pretended I was Lloyd Bridges. Those rocks we clamored over earlier became convenient lounge chairs for a simple lunch. A second dip in the water proved the winds had come up too much for our new found prowess. The sea had become so choppy that with every whitecap encountered, I got water down my snorkel and had to blow it out. I quickly gave up and by late afternoon we were hiking back to Cabo Pulmo.
Since then we have tried a spot nearer our casita. While the waters are shallower, the reef is closer and much clearer. This time Bruce got to see a giant angelfish. When he came back from his longest swim yet, he reported that it was "purely magical" swimming there under the sea (in the octopus's garden). Since then we have been content to take our mornings leisurely at the casita, spending our afternoons at the closest and clearest water near the reef. We've been seeing new fish, and now we have the added pleasure of watching other tourists find their own "techniques" for entering the water with newly rented gear.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
La Paz, Carnaval and Whale Sharks (oh my!)
Jenny and Bob arrived as scheduled, on Thursday. With them both hear we enjoyed two days on the beach, a day of shopping in Todos Santos, the weekly artisan's fair in Pescadero and many good meals. On Monday we rode with Bob to the Cabo Airport to say good-bye to Jenny and to travel north in Bob's rental car to La Paz. It was good to discover that the four of us "travel well together."
In La Paz Bob conquered the traffic admirably in his rental. We had no trouble driving right to il Rustico and snagging a perfect parking place. After owner Franco welcomed us to our casitas, we wandered the malecon having time to preview some of the many opening Carnaval booths before parade time. We chose to watch the parade close to its starting point and even got a seat on the curb close enough to view with nothing in the way to interfere with photos. It was a nice long parade full of extraordinary sites. Beautiful women wore long gowns cascading down the steps leading to their platforms on the floats. Music blared from speakers on each float accompanying the dancers following in the street, or dancing on the float while hanging onto their Barbie-doll type stands. One semi tractor pulled a float with so many dancers that the whole cab of the semi was literally bouncing in time to the music. (The dance floor at the Silver Dollar in Butte on St. Patty's day had nothing over on these guys!)
Once the tail end of the parade passed our station, we walked along the parade route parallel to the parade and finally passing it before finding a friendly restaurant where last year we found last year margarita bargains, great food and helpful waiters. We enjoyed three margaritas for $100 pesos (about $8), perfect for our threesome. The margaritas were made with Controy (Mexican Contreaux) freshly squeezed Mandarin oranges, and tequila. Before long we had our waiter involved in conversation and he quickly worked the conversation around to the subject of whale sharks. He told us they were the biggest of all sharks, had we ever seen one? No? Well, they are often 5 meters long and they are in the ocean very near to our restaurant, and Martin, our waiter, just happened to be promoting his friends who take people out on boats to swim with the sharks. He assured us they eat only small things, particularly plankton. I told him I had felt scared to swim with the baby sized sea lions. " Oh, he said, "these are big, but I have never heard of them hurting anyone." Before long, we were negotiating price and time. At the price he agreed to, he would have to let other people join our party and we would have to bring our own water, but his buddies would provide all the snorkel gear we needed. we shook hands, made a deposit and agreed to meet him in the morning.
At 9:30 the next morning we found Martin and Jessie, a young woman from Saskatchewan, waiting for us. Off we all went to the docks to find Coca and Patima, our guide and our pilot in a boat waiting for us. During the ride out to the shark sight, Coca stood bull-rider style at the bow, leaning his weight against the bowline while Patima piloted the boat. Coca kept an eye out, sweeping his head side to side looking for the sharks. I uneasily remembered that three times in my life I have boarded a boat with the sole intention of seeing a whale and have never been successful. It was taking longer than we thought it would to spot one and I didn't think this was the time to mention my bad luck. Within minutes, Bruce, recalling a friend's failed fishing expedition a year ago, asked if anyone had brought along a banana. You see, last year, Bruce's guides had discovered a banana on board the boat which was catching no fish. The banana was quickly tossed overboard as the theory is that bananas on board a fishing boat brought bad luck. No, no one had a banana and I kept my mouth shut about the other bad luck person we had on board.
After another 30 minutes passed we began seeing jumping fish and flying sting rays! Just 300 yards from our bow we could see three or four other boats just like ours. Our guide made a discreet cell phone call, corrected the pilot's course, and then he was pointing toward the water before he began doling out the snorkel gear. Young Jessie was the first one ready. The guide told her to wait while the pilot quietly guided the boat in the direction the guide indicated. "Alli! Ahorita!" cried our guide; and Jessie jumped into the water. We watched open-mouthed as she swam after a tail we could barely see just breaking the surface of the water. Finding us all dumbstruck, the guide took over the helm and maneuvered closer to Jessie. When she stopped swimming and moved her mask atop her head, her face was jubilant. The only reason she had changed her ticket to fly out of La Paz instead of Cabo was because she wanted to see the sharks! Our guide began pointing and motioning Jessie to come on board. No, she was fine, we needn't worry about her. Coca took us closer to where the shark had gone. By now we had all donned our gear, ready to awkwardly tumble into the water at a moment's notice. This time I was rewarded! I could see the large tail just ahead of me in the murky water. I had a few thoughts about what would happen if I got swatted by that tail, but I had seen how quickly he had gotten away from young Jessie, so I quickly broke into that overhand stroke I used to practice in the dead of one lonely winter as a college student in Missoula. Ay! I was gaining on him! I swam along his side (giving that tail plenty of room) and could soon see first his spotted side, then his dorsal fin and finally his head and the line of his mouth! I swam with him awhile before he "kicked it in gear" and rapidly outpaced me. When I stopped and looked back, I discovered I had left our boat far behind and was glad everyone else was on board and watching for me as I was out of oomph! The boat motored to me. Jessie and I hung on to the ladder while Coca scoured the waters for another shark and took us close to him for another chance at a personal encounter. This time I was only able to catch up to his dorsal fin before I tired. It was reassuring to find that the whale sharks basically ignored us. We had been told not to touch the sharks, but that we could swim near them with no harm done. Both Jessie and I were uneasy when 5 or more people from the other boats trailed after one and soon we let them have the swim. Our guide was bothered a bit as he could see that some of the people from the other boats were touching the sharks. So he took us away until he found a lonely shark for us to swim with. Soon we were all too tired to keep up with the sharks, even young Jessie. Our guide kindly took us so close to other sharks that we could get more viewing from the boat. What a wonderful way to spend a La Paz morning! I was especially glad that my whale viewing jinx was broken and that Jessie's got to see her whale shark.
Another night at Carnaval revealed many interesting sites and games of chance, but we never saw the game that took away the young tequila salesmen's enchilada money. Today we have a long drive to Cabo Pulmo where we may not have Internet access. First we must load up on groceries before we leave this enchanting city by the sea.
In La Paz Bob conquered the traffic admirably in his rental. We had no trouble driving right to il Rustico and snagging a perfect parking place. After owner Franco welcomed us to our casitas, we wandered the malecon having time to preview some of the many opening Carnaval booths before parade time. We chose to watch the parade close to its starting point and even got a seat on the curb close enough to view with nothing in the way to interfere with photos. It was a nice long parade full of extraordinary sites. Beautiful women wore long gowns cascading down the steps leading to their platforms on the floats. Music blared from speakers on each float accompanying the dancers following in the street, or dancing on the float while hanging onto their Barbie-doll type stands. One semi tractor pulled a float with so many dancers that the whole cab of the semi was literally bouncing in time to the music. (The dance floor at the Silver Dollar in Butte on St. Patty's day had nothing over on these guys!)
Once the tail end of the parade passed our station, we walked along the parade route parallel to the parade and finally passing it before finding a friendly restaurant where last year we found last year margarita bargains, great food and helpful waiters. We enjoyed three margaritas for $100 pesos (about $8), perfect for our threesome. The margaritas were made with Controy (Mexican Contreaux) freshly squeezed Mandarin oranges, and tequila. Before long we had our waiter involved in conversation and he quickly worked the conversation around to the subject of whale sharks. He told us they were the biggest of all sharks, had we ever seen one? No? Well, they are often 5 meters long and they are in the ocean very near to our restaurant, and Martin, our waiter, just happened to be promoting his friends who take people out on boats to swim with the sharks. He assured us they eat only small things, particularly plankton. I told him I had felt scared to swim with the baby sized sea lions. " Oh, he said, "these are big, but I have never heard of them hurting anyone." Before long, we were negotiating price and time. At the price he agreed to, he would have to let other people join our party and we would have to bring our own water, but his buddies would provide all the snorkel gear we needed. we shook hands, made a deposit and agreed to meet him in the morning.
At 9:30 the next morning we found Martin and Jessie, a young woman from Saskatchewan, waiting for us. Off we all went to the docks to find Coca and Patima, our guide and our pilot in a boat waiting for us. During the ride out to the shark sight, Coca stood bull-rider style at the bow, leaning his weight against the bowline while Patima piloted the boat. Coca kept an eye out, sweeping his head side to side looking for the sharks. I uneasily remembered that three times in my life I have boarded a boat with the sole intention of seeing a whale and have never been successful. It was taking longer than we thought it would to spot one and I didn't think this was the time to mention my bad luck. Within minutes, Bruce, recalling a friend's failed fishing expedition a year ago, asked if anyone had brought along a banana. You see, last year, Bruce's guides had discovered a banana on board the boat which was catching no fish. The banana was quickly tossed overboard as the theory is that bananas on board a fishing boat brought bad luck. No, no one had a banana and I kept my mouth shut about the other bad luck person we had on board.
After another 30 minutes passed we began seeing jumping fish and flying sting rays! Just 300 yards from our bow we could see three or four other boats just like ours. Our guide made a discreet cell phone call, corrected the pilot's course, and then he was pointing toward the water before he began doling out the snorkel gear. Young Jessie was the first one ready. The guide told her to wait while the pilot quietly guided the boat in the direction the guide indicated. "Alli! Ahorita!" cried our guide; and Jessie jumped into the water. We watched open-mouthed as she swam after a tail we could barely see just breaking the surface of the water. Finding us all dumbstruck, the guide took over the helm and maneuvered closer to Jessie. When she stopped swimming and moved her mask atop her head, her face was jubilant. The only reason she had changed her ticket to fly out of La Paz instead of Cabo was because she wanted to see the sharks! Our guide began pointing and motioning Jessie to come on board. No, she was fine, we needn't worry about her. Coca took us closer to where the shark had gone. By now we had all donned our gear, ready to awkwardly tumble into the water at a moment's notice. This time I was rewarded! I could see the large tail just ahead of me in the murky water. I had a few thoughts about what would happen if I got swatted by that tail, but I had seen how quickly he had gotten away from young Jessie, so I quickly broke into that overhand stroke I used to practice in the dead of one lonely winter as a college student in Missoula. Ay! I was gaining on him! I swam along his side (giving that tail plenty of room) and could soon see first his spotted side, then his dorsal fin and finally his head and the line of his mouth! I swam with him awhile before he "kicked it in gear" and rapidly outpaced me. When I stopped and looked back, I discovered I had left our boat far behind and was glad everyone else was on board and watching for me as I was out of oomph! The boat motored to me. Jessie and I hung on to the ladder while Coca scoured the waters for another shark and took us close to him for another chance at a personal encounter. This time I was only able to catch up to his dorsal fin before I tired. It was reassuring to find that the whale sharks basically ignored us. We had been told not to touch the sharks, but that we could swim near them with no harm done. Both Jessie and I were uneasy when 5 or more people from the other boats trailed after one and soon we let them have the swim. Our guide was bothered a bit as he could see that some of the people from the other boats were touching the sharks. So he took us away until he found a lonely shark for us to swim with. Soon we were all too tired to keep up with the sharks, even young Jessie. Our guide kindly took us so close to other sharks that we could get more viewing from the boat. What a wonderful way to spend a La Paz morning! I was especially glad that my whale viewing jinx was broken and that Jessie's got to see her whale shark.
Another night at Carnaval revealed many interesting sites and games of chance, but we never saw the game that took away the young tequila salesmen's enchilada money. Today we have a long drive to Cabo Pulmo where we may not have Internet access. First we must load up on groceries before we leave this enchanting city by the sea.
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