Mexico, Sea of Cortez, Part II: Trip Report

2016-11-13

This is the conclusion of the previous story, Part I. I have to suggest reading that first. It explains things. Find it here:

Sunday Morning:

I sleepily wander out the open door. There, I find DF bent over the elegant white barrier gazing out. This is looking to be a beautiful day.

We watch the others on the beach below. We are covered only by the rail at crotch level and she comfortably with her arms. There is some distance. Others see, but we are not seen.  We are sort of invisibly nude in public.

We have a slow morning. I play guitar. We breakfast. I then, text our friends in Puerto Penasco to the northwest.

They reply that they will be visiting in a couple of hours. We decide to take a walk north along the beach that we strolled down last night.

The tide is in. The water is breaking over the huge tires and further eroding the precarious spot that that abandoned house rests on.

We drop our covering and continue on, until we begin to feel hungry.

Perfectly, about the time that we have returned and have begun gathering ourselves, I hear voices outside. I step out on the balcony and am surprised to find our friends on the roof balcony looking down. At first, they appear a bit startled by naked me, but quickly adjust. This isn’t a first time.

They are curious to see the entire house, before we sit down to lunch. They only have a couple of hours. They don’t want to drive the desolate Mexico road after dark. There have been banditos at night.

We put on tan thru suits to go swimming after a naked lunch. One of our friends, who had been dressed in shorts for lunch, informs us that he had not packed a swimsuit for the trip. Being November, he figured that it wouldn’t be necessary. Nobody really expected temperatures in the middle 80F’s and swimming. So, we put on our garb and he wears just a t-shirt to swim. We spend an hour being rocked by the waves, jumping them and just talking. We talk life, retirement in foreign countries and of course waves.

As the sun lowers toward the horizon, DF and I have our cameras at ready and it appears that we will be treated to a repeat, another portrait performance of the grand scheme of life.

We are soon out south with plenty of distance from our only neighbors.

We notice that the tides have changed the entire beach.

The pools are different, the many ripples in the sand are smoother this evening.

We feel treated as a squadron of pelicans glide across the breakwater in a single file.

In this group I count 39, then I turn and another smaller group follows and then another larger one. They are all in formation. In all, over one hundred pelicans.

A crane watches, standing on the shore.

It is amazing and abundant, all of it. As we return, a huge yellow super moon creeps over the sand dunes.

The beach is ours, a gigantic area.

The neighbors have gone in. The sun is down. The tide is so far out that we would only be silhouette specs viewed from their balcony. They are probably out there watching the glorious show. When we return to the areas in front of the houses, we can be seen, but not as clearly nude. At this point, we are curious. We begin to count out paces from the shore to the base of our villa’s mound. The beach is approximately 550 yards wide, or 500 meters. When the tide is out completely, it will be over one third of a mile out to the sea!

We have been collecting sea shells, we can’t get enough. We get more selective. The first day, we passed up one sand dollar, figuring that there would be many more, but searching, we find that it was the lone one. The collection has become a project and a hobby. Some will be brought home for granddaughter.

We sit cuddling on the couch facing the second story windows, watching and romantic. The moonlight replaces the sun’s luminescence. Tonight, up on the roof balcony we see only one other house with lights. We fall asleep on the couch. At 8:30pm, we climb the stairs to bed. Again, the beacon of the setting moon, beckons us awake at sunrise.

Monday:

We are casually heading north along the beach, just to see what is there.

After a couple of miles of dunes and beach, as we watch the tide come back in, we see that there is much more to reach the distant point.

Our goal is to see what we see after that bend.

This may be a good time to just lay down on the beach.

I pass the time sifting through the sand to see what it is.

I collect a few interesting mini rocks from the particles of seashell, corral, and rock from many places and times.

Back at base at 1:00pm, we then head down the beach south with a tarp. We plan to set up a nude shade and play station. We never set up. Instead, we drop our things safely and continue less encumbered.

At one point, we head up a large sand dune to get an idea of what is on the other side.

Saguaros were not anticipated by us so far south and here these have grown nearly to the beach.

Approaching the crest, we become more exposed to the desert beyond and feel cautious. What is all that is there, is simply all nature. This particular spot has acre patches of teddybear cholla cactus, here and there.

We have a bucket and tools to build sand a castle. I haven’t built one in decades. Next to a tide pool, I begin.

There is a moat where I dig out sand. It fills with water as I scoop. The texture of the sand is gritty, but I manage to make a fortress. We cross the pool of knee deep water and find the sand a completely different texture, very fine.

With this we make a more remarkable structure.

We now have two kingdoms on distant shores.

We watch birds. A seagull has been pecking at a crab. Circling and then attacking. In time, it begins to fly about 12 feet in the air and drop the crap, over and over, hoping to crack the shell.

It is gorgeous again.

No clouds tonight, they cleared off.

So have our neighbors cleared off.

Everyone in the community is gone. Kids are back in school. We are here with solitude.

At dusk, we are climbing our dune, when I see a man standing over us, by our patio. I quickly grab my towel and wrap. DF had already wrapped a sarong on her to break the cool breeze. He had been told by the owner to stop by and check to see if we needed anything. He can get firewood, or fresh fish, and things local. No problem.

We retire to wild smoked salmon and veggies. Afterwards, I put out fresh organic pineapple buried in vanilla yogurt. We have a drum circle. I get particularly fascinated by the sound of the didgeridoo.

The tans are coming along nicely.

Tuesday:

We have to return home today, at least a day or two, too soon. As I gather stuff, I see a fishing boat near shore. I’m curious and just stand and watch. He has traps. He leaves. Soon, I see a large fin in the water. There is a pair of dolphins making their way up north. DF grabs her camera and tries to capture them with the zoom lens.

We are excited to see two more not far behind. We scurry down to the beach to get closer. These are amazing and huge. Sometimes, one will lift its tail from the water and flick it. We see three more, and several other pairs. As they pass, maybe a total of twenty are in this parade. The squadron of 39 pelicans zoom by, we are compelled to walk the beach in our hastily attired towels. It is wonderful here.

While I pack the car, DF takes one more dip in the ocean. We leave for the long drive across the desert.

At the border, we see the pink and purple mountains, saguaros and organ pipes at their feet in shadows.  Crossing into the United States, I consider the potential for carnuding in this part of Mexico. Next time, I’ll have a towel to wrap across me, for those aduana stations and towering armored vehicles.  Ah yes, next time….