Whales and Butterflies

¨What´s your favorite season?¨ Griffin asked our Mexican friend Eric.

To which, much to my amuzement, Eric responded, ¨I like them both!¨ 

I had momentarily forgotten that there are indeed only two seasons: the rainy and the dry, and this is especially true south of the Tropic of Cancer.  Right now we are in the dry season.  It is cooler, less humid, and, as is implied by it´s name, doesn´t produce any rain.  It´s also the time to plant tomatoes and peppers, which seemed to be going in the ground shortly after Christmas.  Citrus season is still in full swing.  And so are papayas and pineapples (although these might fruit year round, like coconut trees?).  Mangos are mere buds ready to burst.  They fruit in the rainy season.  And, while they are really only categorized as two seasons, it seems that spring is in the air.  February is a month of flowers.  New blossoms seem to be poking out of the otherwise disguised, dry looking jungle.  And increasingly more butterflies seem to be showing up, like the whales in migration.   Especially since we entered Michoacan.

Soon after having crossed the state line between Colima and Michoacan, the mountains moved closer and closer to the coast until they met, creating a dramatic coastline, beautifully rugged and less inhabited.  First stop:  La Ticla, a large but slow wave and very uncrowded, despite the fact that the economy here revolves around surfers. 

The town is an indigenous village with it´s own language (spanish is a second language that everyone speaks) and sits pretty much on the edge of the ocean (and mountains).  A river runs through the town, shallow this time of year, creating a sanctuary for many different species of birds (also probably migratory).  We are camped right on the river, under a lush palapa surrounded by papaya trees, birds of paradise flowers and expansive green leaves.  The surf is a short walk down the shallow river, or down the cobblestone road, although the river is certainly the scenic route.

Cuixtemotl, or something like that, is how you say burro in this village´s language (I have yet to remember the language´s name), and often, as we walk down the river for a morning surf, a herd of donkeys meet us at the riverbank for their morning drink. Lounging in hammocks later in the afternoon we can hear the donkeys he-hawing on the other side of the river.  Roosters crow in the morning, followed by the tortilla man, delivering fresh, hot corn tortillas early in the morning and proudly anouncing his arrival through an intercom.   It is in every way, quintessentially Mexico here.

No pics this time... it hasn´t been as appropriate to pull out the camera yet here, but soon to come!

Arrollo Seco

Griffin on one of the smaller waves at Arrollo Seco.

I love my new molcajete!  Or, as one man at the market put it, the ¨mexican blender¨. 

Paradise.

Just a few kilometers off the main highway, and down a small windy dirt road, sits the sleepy, yet sweet town of Arrollo Seco.  Home to only a few hundred folks, including one ex-pat American surfer who has lived in mexico for 25 years and one young French man, who has been coming here for 8 years (also a surfer)... all very kind and welcoming people. 

Just on the other side of the town square, another even smaller dirt road winds further and doubles back on itself before reaching the final stretch that cuts through a beautifully landscaped hacienda.  Mango trees, lime trees, papayas, agave and boganvias line the road, ending at the coconut trees and mangrove patch that provide the only shade for the beach-- and a fantastic place for hammocks in the afternoon sun.  The man who looks after this amazing hacienda welcomed us to pick limes and cocos.

The beach itself meets open ocean:  a sand bar and point that abruptly drop off, creating a giant, fast wave for the ¨expert¨ or ¨advanced¨ surfer (neither of which describes me).  The beauty of this feature delights many adrenaline seeking surfers (Griffin included) as well as the more timid and cautious observers (myself) who can admire the whales and dolphins that cruise by at impressively close distances (from a safe perch on the beach).  The dolphins seem eager to attract attention, swimming close to the surfers, causing only a few scares when they first appeared with their dorsal fins protruding.  The surfers are indeed grateful the whales are a bit more conservative. 

We stayed here a week and were hesitant to leave as it has that slow, uncrowded paradise feel.  But a swell arrived producing some rather intimidating waves (at least 15 feet).  While it was fun to watch the more advanced surfers indulge themselves, it was obvious we were out of our league (especially me; Griffin´s boundaries are seemingly nonexistent).  Two days ago a doctor from California was surfing during a particularly large swell and broke his nose.  Nonchalantly, he kept surfing, despite the new profile the wave had bestowed on him.  ¨I can get it fixed later!¨ he exclaimed, a smile below his newly crooked nose.

We are now in Melaque where we have randomly run into friends from Durango!  We are enjoying connecting with Chester and Shannon and their two lovely kids, Addie and Jack Henry, before we start to head south for new, and hopefully beginner friendly waves.

The Amazing Story of Don Carlos

Also known as ¨blue eyes¨, for obvious reasons.  Carlos was one of the older fishermen at Chalacatepec and I have been meaning to share his story for some time, as it is an impressive feat of survival.

Carlos and two other men were out fishing some years ago when a hurricane blew in unexpectedly in the late afternoon.  (This was before the fishermen began to carry cell phones in little thermos to keep them dry.)  Their boat was flipped and Carlos found himself swimming for his life in a tumultuous sea.  He swam the entire night, tempted to give up a few times, but when he began to sink something inside him would say, ¨No! I want to live!¨ and he would re-surface in that stormy ocean.

He swam for somewhere around 12 hours before managing to reach some rocks- the same point that we would catch waves off of.  By that time it was morning the next day.  The other two men were never found.

The Good, The Bad & The Beautiful

The yoga mat serves many purposes: yoga, windshield shade for the truck, and as shown above, mechanical aid for repairing a drive shaft.

The Good:
Kelly and two of his med. student friends were able to head to the coast and meet up with us at Chalacatepec.  We have decided that Kelly is good luck, bringing a swell (a.k.a. some good waves) like we had not seen since the last time he was here.  We had a grand time and feasted with the fishermen, as usual, only this time it involved caviar, lobster, and many a variation of different types of fish (pics below).
The Bad:
We decided to head south to look for some better surf after Kelly and friends left (Kelly is off to see friends in El Salvador and his Dad in Panama, and his friends had to return to school) .  The waves had died down and while it was hard to say goodbye to our friends, the fishermen, it seemed like the right time.  We checked out some small beaches on the way to Melaque and just as we were entering the pueblo of Melaque we felt a strong vibration from the gut of the truck... and then wham!  A large tube of metal dropped out the bottom leaving the truck looking like a newborn with its embilical chord still attached (I believe it is called the drive shaft, pardon my lack of mechanical knowledge).

The Beautiful:
The truck broke down right in front of a mechanic, around the corner from a store that sales car parts, and walking distance to a place called a torneo (they can turn metal to see if it is bent, such as a drive shaft.  I do not even know the name in English).  It seemed incredibly lucky considering the potencial difficulties that could have insued had we broken down anywhere else we had been that day.  Griffin was able to fix it with the help of some kind mechanics and we were able to buy the necessary parts, and have the shaft spun to see if it had suffered any damage, all for well under $10.

We found a place to camp in town for very cheap and are now getting some necessary items, groceries, etc. before we head out to a fairly isolated beach called Arroyo Seco.  I am typing this on computer set up for Danish (the kind Danish couple camping next to us is letting me use their computer) so pardon the lack of conjunctions (it seems the apostrophe is always acompannied by a vowel in Danish?).

The BEST taquitos.  EVER.  Pelocha made these delicious fish taquitos (fried tacos) and the homemade salsa verde on top.

Pelocha loved this shot of his boat going out at sunrise (he was trying to catch some good air for the camera).

Kelly shows off an equally red-freckled lobster.  YUM.

Pelocha cooking up some delicious food!

I just love how cattle and horses are moved here.

Griffin and Pelocha play checkers on this homemade board while Hairo watches.

My great-grandmother, Gram, used to say:
¨A wonderful bird is a pelican. 
His beak holds more than his belly can.
And I don´t see how in the hell he can!¨

Friggots and Pelicans trail the fishing boats looking for handouts (which always come when the fish are gutted).



Feliz Año Nuevo! (Happy New Year!)

Fishermen push the boat out at sunrise of the new year.

Hauling the net in.

Before (see below).

After.  (This is the fish in the picture above that looks slightly like a Jackson Pollack painting... the big one.)

Just can´t get enough of these little guys.

I wasn´t sure if they would allow a woman on board the boat.  I knew that Champiras´(one of the fishermen) own daughter had never been out in his boat, but I hadn´t pushed, ¨why?¨  Griffin had gone fishing with them a few times already, but it wasn´t until they saw the whales (Griffin too!) that I was invited.  And of course, I said ¨Yes!¨  What a fantastic way to begin the new year.

I was excited too that it was one of my favorite fishermen, Pelocha (probably because he talks slow and I can understand him, but also he is thoughtful).  Only, when it came time to leave at sunrise on the first day of the new year, Pelocha was nowhere to be found.  The same thing happend on Christmas day (Pelocha likes to drink), only this time the fishermen didn´t wait for him to show up as they had on Christmas (discussing his ¨responsibility as a captain¨ and who had seen him last with what drink in hand, etc.).  But fortunately, Genero invited me to come with him instead.

They were very sweet, telling me where to sit to avoid the fish guts and stay out of the way of the nets, and also how to avoid getting thrown out of the boat while going over the big waves.  We were fortunate to see a few turtles, one even catching a fish, and, yes, a whale!  As soon as we saw the signature spray of water, to both my excitement and horror, Genero drove straight for it.  We must have been 30 feet away (in a 20 foot long boat, max.) when it surfaced again: a smooth gliding, arched back followed by the slightest flick of a giant tail.  It was not like the ones we´ve seen from the shore- playfully slapping their tails against the surface and occasionally launching their giant bodies into the air.  But I was thankful this one was more docile, considering our proximity.  No pics, as they are hard to catch on camera, and I´m sure it wouldn´t have reflected my excitment.

The rest of the trip was fun to see- how they fish, using coke bottles as bobbers to indicate where their nets are.  How they know where to look (for a few floating coke bottles!?) in all that ocean is beyond me.  But it does seem that the driver pays close attention to the shore.

I realize that people pay money for this kind of trip- to have someone take them out in a boat to see whales, or go fishing, and that we are quite lucky to accompany these kind men who won´t even accept any money for the fish they continually insist we take.   We do bring them cigarretes or a large 3 liter soda on occasion; not the healthiest contributions but things they enjoy and, in the case of the coke bottles, actually need, considering their dual purposes in fishing (they are also used to push the boats in and out of the water-  I finally got that video to load! See below).

Whenever we have attempted to pay them for the fish, they act disgusted or say something like, ¨Money isn´t everything.¨ Wise words indeed.  And a good reminder as we begin a new year.  We´ll ignore the irony that the boat I went out on the first day of the new year was named ¨Fortune¨.  But then again, we do feel fortunate.

 

This video shows how they move the boats in and out of the water with only wood and coke bottles