Woke up: Ensenada Grande, Isla Partida, Baja California Sur, Mexico
Went to sleep: Ensenada Grande, Isla Partida, Baja California Sur, Mexico
A Single Excellent Day
This morning we awoke at an early hour, there is so much to do. I dozed while Peter made coffee. As a rule, I don’t get out of bed until the coffee is ‘on the table.’
While the coffee began to perk, Peter lowered the dinghy from its secure overnight location, hanging by a halyard, 5-feet above the water.
After a few sips of coffee, he left to catch dinner. The sun had not yet made its way over the easterly mountains. I enjoyed the quiet time; just me, my coffee and the pen I write this with. It is so still, you can hear every manta ray jump above the water and belly flop back in, every bird chirp, every tap of the water against Penelope’s hull.
In no time, Peter returned with four 24-inch Cierra. He had those babies cleaned and filleted before I could retrieve gallon zip lock bags from the galley drawer. Fish tacos tonight.
I prepared tomato, avocado and fried egg sandwiches as we readied ourselves to hike the trail.
This hike is similar to two hours on the stair master. Gargantuan boulders, of all shapes and sizes, line the dry river bed. Each time I glance up from the trail, the variable views are magnificent.
After our hike, Peter delivered my yoga mat and me to a nearby beach, still shaded by the southern hills. I performed all my favorite poses including challenging ones I don’t get to do when teaching classes.
Following an afternoon siesta, Peter started to repair our barbeque grill. He began by removing the ancient burner element from the frame using his 18 V Dewalt high speed cutoff grinder. This noisy operation drove me and my crossword puzzle from Penelope to My Boat. As I pedal away, I am free, I am mobile, I can go anywhere.
I strolled over to a nearby catamaran, just dropping anchor, and chatted with a couple from San Francisco. They chartered the Catamaran while here on their two week vacation. Slowly, I paddled a short distance to the shore, working on my crossword puzzle as I moved almost effortlessly through the crystal clear water.
Last week, while anchored in this exact location, Peter made friends with a young man, Jose, who works at the tourist camp on the beach.
Peter and Jose have a highly competitive, on going, Bocce Ball tournament. Jose is the current champion. While the three of us play together we speak only Español. Jose speaks about as much English as we speak Spanish.
After three games – Jose again the champion – I paddled home to prepare dinner. The boys arrived just before dark. This is the first time we have had a local to our home. It was an honor for us and the true beginning of our integration into the Mexican culture. Jose arrived with two liters of Squirt, similar to how our friends back home bring something to share when visiting someone’s home.
While we enjoyed pescado Americano – I can’t imagine what Jose thought of my version of his native cuisine – he shared photos of his family and friends on his I-pad. He told us stories of his work and his cuatro ninos.
Despite our joy in having made a friend, our heads were throbbing from the exertion as we said, “Buenas noches, amigo. Hasta mañana.”