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Exploring Baja Sur


I was afraid something like this might happen. Graham Macintosh has given me the “Baja Bug.” That is to say I’m going exploring. I just got back from my first training expedition and I’m feeling pretty good about the whole experience.

I haven’t read all of Graham’s books but I read Into a Desert Place, his first book and was struck by the lunacy of the man and the plan. I was also struck by the fact that Graham sure can explore but he’s lousy at book titles. Into a Desert Place first made me think it was about a guy who goes to Vegas, blows all his dough, gets in trouble with the law and dies in jail. Journey With A Baja Burro conjures up a picture of a hobo walking the tracks carrying a bag which contains the bottom part of a burro. Nearer My Dog To Thee has just got to be about a dog or it’s a religious tract with a play on words about a popular hymn.

I digress. I have a few years on Graham but I can still get around. I’ve traveled all over Baja California in every kind of conveyance but I have not walked or hitched rides. Lived off the sea. I once stayed nine days at Bahia Concepcion eating only the things I took from the sea. I did go to Mulege several times during that trip for beer and ice. (I fudged a little here because we all know beer is food)

Now I live in Baja Sur so my first expedition was short, close to home. Here’s my thumbnail account (this may one day be a part of a larger work, a book perhaps).

Planning: Like Graham (he lets me call him by his first name now) I planned to stay along the shore. For convenience sake my jumping off point would be from my house which is right on the beach. I would travel east and southeast staying close to the water. My destination: a resort called Punta Colorado. On the map there are two roads to the resort. One is a good dirt road about six kilometers. The other is twelve kilometers of paved road and 3 kilometers of graded dirt. I estimate the distance along the shore to be about 4.2 kilometers.

The trip was to have two stages: walking to the resort and then, somehow, getting back to my house.

Equipment, supplies and preparation: In a net bag I carefully placed a pair of Croc shoes, my snorkel mask, a small baggie of fishing lures, in another small baggie some pesos (careful to have every denomination from coins to 200 peso notes). Preparation consisted of a thorough coating of SP 40 sunblock, my usual morning sitdown and coffee, checked the clock, grabbed my Shakepeare ultralight rod and reel with new 8 pound test mono and 4 pound flouro leader, kissed my wife goodbye. (I don’t carry water. I don’t drink water. I drank water once when I was 12 years old. It was tasteless.)

Stage one: The first leg of the trip from my house to the shore was relatively easy and uneventful. I did see and wave to Raul, a nice guy, a cementero and Bey, a very bad guy on a bicycle (I did not wave or smile). I also saw a western coachwhip snake and the tracks of 2 seasnakes which make their nests along these shores. It was a quiet, calm morning with high thin clouds. The sea was like glass, a few mullet jumping. I headed east. At a place called La Boca, where a pond is held inshore by the berm of the beach, I could see some surface action on the sea side so I threw a small Castmaster lure for jacks or ladyfish. Got only one bump in 30 casts so I moved on.

Another 400 meters eastward on the beach brought me to a little development of expensive seaside homes. I marveled at the newest one under construction which is dangerously close to the water. I’ve heard the main house will be 10,000 square feet with 3 auxiliary buildings which total another 10,000. Further down the beach at La Salina, another inshore pool, I stopped to snorkel over a large rock slab which sometimes holds huge schools of Mexican goatfish, triggers, parrots and more. The water was pretty murky and last winter’s winds had covered most of the huge rock slab with sand.

Just before the resort property I threw some small to medium Crocodile lures above the rocks for cabrilla or pargo. Lost 2 lures so I moved on.

I climbed the stairs to the outside patio of the resort looking all the while for Fidel, my favorite bartender. I was gravely disappointed to see that the owner’s grandson, Cuco, 12 years old, was playing bartender at this early hour. All the hotel charter boats were already out so the patio area was deserted.

Just when I was in the mood to celebrate I was drowning in despair. I wanted one of Fidel’s splendid Bloody Marys. I needed it, I deserved it. Now I was going to have to choke down one of Cuco’s noxious elixirs. He is infamous. The poor fishermen try to show good will, good humor as they watch him experiment with his ever-changing recipes, his hit or miss chemistry lab approach to the delicate art of mixology. In a weak and shaky voice I ordered a drink.

I could not watch. I turned seaward on my barstool but in my mind’s eye I could almost see the globs of horseradish, the great lumps of pepper, the extra-heavy squirts of Tabasco. Some movement on the far edge of the patio caught my eye. Fidel? Was that Fidel? It was, I was saved. I waved and got up from my perch as he came forward.

“Fidel, Fidel, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I just finished a long walk on the beach from my house and I need one of your special Bloody Marys.”

Cuco scowled and poured his mistake down the drain.

While Fidel made my frosty libation I inquired about a ride back to the house. Fidel said Alejandro would be going home about ten and he would arrange a ride for me.

Now all that preparation was paying off. I gave Cuco some coins, paid for the drink with a bill large enough for a handsome propina for Fidel and had the exactly appropriate bills left in the little baggie to say thank you to Alejandro for the ride home.

So, Graham, I guess we can all learn from others. When you see my first book be looking for Into A Bloody Mary Place or A Brush with Death by Poison in Baja Sur.

Graham has nothing over you my friend. You are the master at improvisation...

Originally Posted by Osprey

...I once stayed nine days at Bahia Concepcion eating only the things I took from the sea. I did go to Mulege several times during that trip for beer and ice. (I fudged a little here because we all know beer is food)

You should share this with Graham...