Woke up: Tenacatita Bay
Went to sleep: Tenacatita Bay
Always, Penelope Rocks Gently Side to Side
Our life in Tenacatita Bay is surreal. No one can fully comprehend what it is like unless you come for a visit and live it for a few days. Early in the morning, I peddle My Boat to the beach and look back toward the sun rising behind 30 +/- vessels swinging quietly on their anchors.
Neither of us has a job. We don’t own a car. No car payments. No insurance. No keys. I no longer carry a key chain. But, then, I no longer carry a purse, rather a “dry bag” designed to protect my valuables if I inadvertently end up in the water. If we lock Penelope we use a pad lock. A flashlight is kept nearby to open the lock when we return after dark.
Always, Penelope rocks gently side to side.
I wake up when I wake up. After 40 years of waking to an alarm, it’s lovely. Often Peter arises before me and sits quietly in the early morning glow, drinking his coffee and perusing the internet for weather.
It’s hard to keep track of the days. Is it Sunday or Monday? I have to look at the calendar to be sure.
It’s hot. We sleep under a sheet with a fan circulating the cool night air. We keep the boat closed up during the day to keep the heat out. We always cook outside on the barbecue. It’s too hot to turn on the stove down below.
Always, Penelope rocks gently side to side.
I don’t wear much clothing. A sleeveless dress over my swim suit. When I’m out, I put on a long-sleeved shirt and a hat to protect my hair and skin from the sun. And, always I wear SPF 50 all over and rest in the shade when I’m not moving.
Sometimes, I look like I’ve been in a barroom brawl. I have a toenail that is black and falling off from a long hike in seldom worn shoes. I have scabs on my ankles from scratching the sand flea bites. I have bruises on my shins from hurling myself aboard the dinghy while escaping a powerful ocean swell. I have a heat rash. My hair is dirty and tangled and straggly. My skin glistens with sweat.
I felt particularly energetic this morning after yesterday’s Denver Bronco football win. Peter took me across the bay to La Manzanilla to watch the game at Palapa Joe’s. I felt almost like a normal person for a brief time while I cheered the home team at a mostly American patronized sports bar.
There is a cobblestone road leading from Los Angeles Locos, the resort on the beach, to the main highway. It’s primarily an up and down trot. I wore my heart rate monitor and jogged up the hills to boost my heart rate above 150 beats per minute.
I stopped to talk with the guard at the end of the road and explained the numbers on my wrist monitor. He thought I better sit down. He brought out a chair and insisted I take a break.
It’s a lovely view along the way.
Following my hike, I jumped into My Boat to peddle up the estuary. A group of guys from the fleet were up the creek with chain saws and machetes trying to clear the mangroves blocking the route to the lake.
Along the way, I had a dangerous encounter with a crocodile. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a fallen cat tail.
After I checked on the guys and peddled back to the boat, I jumped into the clear blue water to cool off and swam a couple of laps around Penelope. My triathlon included hiking, pedaling and swimming. While I rest below, Penelope rocks gently side to side.
This morning, the swell is very tall due to storms to the north of us. This condition creates large, breaking waves along the shoreline. Everyone is chattering on the radio, trying to make plans for the day that don’t include beaching our dinghies and risking getting pummeled. I guess today we’re limited to surfing, swimming, and snorkeling.
I swam to the beach with a group of women. Six or eight of us leave from the SV Harmony. It’s about a quarter-mile from the boat to the beach. One of the husbands follows us in a dinghy in case anyone runs into trouble.
Once on the beach, the guys side up for a few games of Bocce Ball. Usually they play the best 3 out of 5. The women walk the length of the beach and visit. Afterward, 20 – 25 cruisers from all over the world take up several tables at the palapa.
Today, I caught a ride home on Peter’s SUP. I laid tummy down on his board and he paddled us out to Penelope. A very unusual way to get around.
And at the very end of the day, a man on a boat parked nearby blows his conch to signify sundown. Finally, it’s time to rest. And, Penelope rocks gently side to side.