Tuesday, December 29, 2009

And this happens every day






I ‘ll see better when the smoke clears inside my head
And I can listen when the screaming doesn’t repeat everything I’ve said
All that remains is me and who I am at the end of the day
And this happens everyday…
This happens every day…
Toby Lightman






We’ve been at Rancho Conejo a full moon’s cycle. I’ve seen the morning tides high and the tides greet the dawn low. I’ve played in one of the Lord’s greatest playgrounds and came out unscathed and restored. I’ve felt the wind blow with fury heavy from the northwest and felt the gentle whisper of the wind off the desert combing back the surface of the Pacific yielding perfection. I wasn’t able to fish her waters but I prayed for fish and fish was given. I’ve praised God, pleaded to God and loved God. I sang sweetly to Jesus with my dear man on Christmas Eve in the still and dark of the night and knew where the light was. I cried when friends moved on. I’ve had the privilege of meeting a variety of people who share the same love for an area of the Baja peninsula that remains to this day barely touched. Too rugged for most but delightfully secluded for some. We found a wonderful location to store “Evie”. What a blessing she was as she carried us through this magical vacation. My mother’s namesake, I knew we were safe, she is with Him and He is with us.



As my sights turn to the New Year I’m eager for whatever lays ahead. Finding myself in need of a pause and being blessed to get one with a man that God has most assuredly touched in a special way and put into my life. Yes, my cup runneth over…
Vaya con Dios mi amigos

Friday, December 18, 2009

A Fish Tale




















Sitting in the lineup some mornings and watching all the mullet leap around you makes a person hungry sometimes. I get this urge to build a fire and smoke me some of 'em... It did spur me on to try my hand at fishing though. I had bought a rod and reel the last time we were out here in '05 and never got around to using it. It always seemed like when the fishing was good the surfing was good and I always opted for the latter. So this year I brought the rod and reel again, never been used and was determined to try my hand at it. Teri, my sister, is quite the fisherwoman and I've always admired her ability to rig her equipment, know what bait to use and never act squeamish as she slips the hook into the mouth of her bait and through other parts of their little bodies I can't bear to think about. She is so tough that she got a hook caught in her thumb and she pushed it through, cut off the barb and pulled it out as if it were just a matter of fact. Just the telling of that story makes my stomach roll.

They use lures to catch sierra (mackerel) and corbina (sea bass). I head out one morning with rod and reel, a container of weights and lures given to me by one of the surfers, a bucket and plastic bag to put my fish in, and a last-minute idea  to bring some toenail clippers in case I needed to cut the line instead of getting the hook out of the fish's mouth (sissy). As I head out Robert suggests I put on my spring suit in case I have to wade out in the water to get a good cast out so I don my wetsuit and off I go.

The first part of the trip is totally humbling as I have to actually walk past the fishermen in the village as they are heading out in their pangas, plus the tide is high so I can't walk wide away from the fishermen but instead have to slide by their boats within arm's length.  "Gringo el loco".  So, walking past that embarrassment, I head on down the beach to where I think fish like to live. I find a nook for the bucket and bag in the rocky cliff and head to the surf to throw out a line. My sister's teaching echoing in my head from prior sessions with her, "Use your whole body, go with the cast". Okay, so here I go ... bam and splash it lands five feet in front of me. Hmm, must have gotten snagged on something! I reel it back in.

 I've fished before as a child tomboy so I know how to cast the line out and the second try was a beauty!!! Wow, did I do that? Imitating the reeling in with the technique I understand skims the lure over the rocks I reel and pop and reel and pop and am feeling rather proficient ... for a moment and then I noticed that all the line I was reeling in wasn't reeling in anything. Something was wrong with the reel. Extremely thankful I had the foresight of bringing those toenail clippers I walk back to my bucket, clip the line, put down my rod and start following the line out to where my lure is hung up on some rocks. Intent on getting my lure back I pull in the line and walk into the sea, much like Gretel following her breadcrumbs back home. So absorbed in this mission I didn't see the surge of a wave come swooshing in toward me knocking me down on my bootie and rolling me around in the surf like a log. Glad I wore the wetsuit ... thank you, Bobby, I pick up my drenched body and just about this time a gathering of seagulls behind me on the cliffs began to laugh, seriously, they were laughing their heads off, as were the fishermen by the fishing village and probably God Himself. I did give up the ghost on the lure but sat on some rocks and tried to fix the reel. After five minutes of that, I picked up my bucket and bag that felt emptier than when I started out and headed home. Upon dismantling the reel that evening, we found that it was broken. Never used it and when I did it broke. Wonder where it was made???
So until next year .... I'll be watching those mullet jump.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Where are the rabbits? - Conejo Week Two




Conejo translated means the rabbit. Rancho Conejo… Rabbit Ranch. Never seen a rabbit out here. Plenty of coyotes that could explain the scarcity of conejos. It also explains why you just don’t see many cats in these parts as the coyotes like them an awful lot.

A solid week of surfing, good conditions, good size. Absolute abundance. This being our second trip into La Paz to provision as we are expecting a solid 10’ swell to be heading in from the west Thursday morning. I should be able to shoot some good footage that day gladly acquiescing the role of surfer to one of a photographer when that much water is wrapping around the point.

The community of surfers here is an interesting bunch. Nardo is our “camp manager” and lives in the small fishing village just about ¼ of a mile north of our camp. He has two wolf-type dogs, Chocolate and Boracha (translated means drunk and because she is a female it is cha instead of cho which would indicate male gender). Nardo stopped by the other morning with a handful of nim he had collected. It is a green plant with no smell, slightly bitter in taste. He boils the nim and makes it into an infusion like a tea and he rubs this infusion on the fur of his dogs and it keeps fleas away. It is also said to be good for the heart.

Every night at dusk we watch the whales on the horizon, some of them surprisingly close. We watch as the sun sets and watch for what is called the “green flash” which happens right before the sun disappears from sight. I’ve seen it once since we’ve been here but Robert has caught it many times. I’m glad I actually saw it once because I was getting to the point where I thought everyone was taking advantage of my gullibility.

I cannot close without giving a mention to the visitor Bobby and I had in the lineup yesterday. The cutest most huggable gray seal you’ve ever seen. He just popped his head up and looked at Bobby and then me as if to say “Que Tal” (how’s it going) and then gave us his tail and dove down below to his playground as we stayed above in ours. Endless praise to God for every detail of his canvas.

Oh, a newsflash….. Boracha had a litter last night of eleven pups. Gotta watch that drinking Boracha!!

Destination reached - Week One Rancho Conejo






















Rancho Conejo


This particular part of the Baja peninsula has not changed much at all. Some parts of the shoreline carry rocks where before there were none but the point break still turns out some of the finest lefts I’ve ever ridden in my life. We were greeted Thanksgiving Day with fun surf about chest high. We surfed for three days in perfect conditions with a handful of others. It got a bit bigger the second day and maxed out the third in solid 6’ or well overhead surf. We also met up with some old friends in the lineup and it was a real honest to God treat to surf with them that first morning. Two of our friends married and are now parents of an sweet child named Emily. I imagine I’ll see her in the line up one day in the future.



One characteristic of Conejo is hard onshore winds that buffet the coast. We had a good one on our fourth day and it found us battening down hatches and waiting for it to blow itself out. There is particular loneliness to this area that may have to do with the ruggedness of the coast where the desert meets the sea. It may also be the fact that a handful of folks are out this way too. The water is crystal clear and it seems as if you are sitting in an aquarium as the mullet jump all around you. Today I even saw a seal in the inside break, about the size of a grown man. In its desolate loneliness, there is exquisite beauty and peace. The rhythms of the sea, wind, marine life and the people who live here are graceful in their simplicity.

So after surfing this morning in smallish surf (by Florida standards it would have been outstanding) we headed into La Paz which is 50 miles from our spot at Conejo. Once a week we’ll head here to provision, fuel, launder and connect with loved ones and then back out for another seven days. La Paz has grown and now sports a Wal-Mart that is stocked with Mexican goods with Mexican prices, nothing from China here. Haas avocadoes are going for 18 pesos a kilo and spelled out that is 60 cents a pound. I’m loving it. Give me a bag of those and two big old papayas and lime and I’m ready to head out for another seven days. We are quite content and counting our blessings. 

Vaya con Dios amigos… until next week.












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