The Beach, More Whales, and a Bandito named Raoul

The Beach
It’s Tuesday, February 13th, and we’re still here at Los Cerritos. For the past several days, we’ve said, “Okay, we’ll leave tomorrow,” but then a reason always comes up for us to stay on “just one more day.” My favorite thing to do here is walk on the beach. It’s a long, shallow crescent, about 5 miles from the points on either end according to the guidebook. The RV camping area is about a half mile from the day use beach at the upper end where the surf shop and restaurant/beach bar is. Every morning, first thing, Ellie and I walk for about a mile the other way-- that end of the beach is empty, with just a couple of houses way down, at about the place we turn around. There’s not much going on down there, unless you count the little sand crabs throwing the sand out of their holes and coming out to peek for predators, or pelicans gliding over the water, or cormorants standing close to the water, with their wings half-spread, drying in the morning sun. Cormorants don’t have as much oil on their feathers as other birds do, and they get waterlogged when they dive for fish. This makes them heavier, and helps them dive deeper after fish, but they do have to dry out. In the early afternoon, we take another walk, this time in the opposite direction. This is always entertaining, as there’s always something going on. There’s a guy in a wheelchair who is staying in our RV camping area who wheels himself down the soft, sandy trail to the beach every afternoon with his two Labrador Retrievers in the lead. The guy has a squash racquet and a tennis ball, and uses the racquet to hurl the ball into the surf. The black Lab bounds into the waves and retrieves the ball, dropping it on the sand. The yellow Lab then picks up the ball and carries it over to the guy, and they do the whole thing over again—tag team fetch! Further down, a young woman in a bikini with a hula hoop dances to music from her IPOD as she keeps the hula hoop going without any apparent effort. Today there was a kite-boarder, and I stopped and watched her for awhile. Once we get down to end of the beach, we sit and watch the surfers for awhile, then turn around and stroll back. Sometimes I go for a swim, but it works out better if I take Ellie back to the Royal Palms first. She doesn’t like swimming in the surf, and gets very upset that I’m out there. She races up and down in the shallows, whining and pleading for me to come back. One day she was so distraught that she went and snuggled up to a woman sunning herself on her beach towel to get some help or comfort, or maybe both. The woman was NOT a dog person, and was not at all sympathetic.

There’s entertainment in camp, too. The long-term campers have set up a 9 hole par 3 golf course and are out there every morning. There’s a paperback book exchange outside one of the big RVs, and we’ve been over there to trade in some of the paperbacks we’ve finished. And if we’re sitting outside the Royal Palms reading or relaxing, somebody is always stopping by to introduce themselves, chat, and give a recommendation for a great restaurant, bakery, etc. in town. Today Steve met some people from Minnesota, and yes, they talk just like Frances McDormand in the movie “Fargo.”

More Whales
We were supposed to leave Los Cerritos today, but yesterday I went into Todos Santos to get my nails done. While I was waiting my turn, I got into a conversation with an American woman who lives in Todos Santos six months of the year. Her house is near the estuary and beach where the grey whales come in close. She said in the late afternoon, they come in very close to shore to try to scrape off barnacles. She said she got up the courage to go in swimming, and that a baby came up within 5 feet of her to have a look! I told Steve we had to stay one more day so we could go watch whales. So this afternoon we drove the 15 miles into Todos Santos, got directions to the beach, and set off to watch whales. This beach is only a few miles out of town, down a very narrow, sandy lane. We parked at the end, and walked down the beach to the estuary, a long river-like channel where the ocean backs up into an oasis-like setting with palms trees and mangroves. And in the ocean, right in front of the estuary, 50 to 100 feet from shore, were the whales! We saw heads, tails, backs, fins. Big ones and little ones, swimming slowly or seemingly just hanging out. I can’t even count how many we saw. It was awesome in the true sense of the word. Unfortunately, it was extremely windy and the waves were huge—much too rough to go in swimming; otherwise, I would have been in there in a heartbeat. What an experience!

A Bandito Named Raoul
When we got back to where we had parked the car, a local guy came up to us and said that he had been watching our car, protecting it from banditos, which he said were prevalent in the area. He appeared to want a tip for doing this. We ignored him, but as we went to get in our car, he pointed out that we had a flat tire. Extremely flat. Steve got out the jack and went to work, but the guy, who introduced himself as “Raoul,” insisted on helping, and more or less took over. Steve tried to tell him we didn’t need his help, but it became easier to just let him We began to get suspicious when examined the tire and couldn’t find a nail or glass chunk or anything that would cause a puncture. We became even more suspicious when I gave him 20 pesos ($2) for helping and he was not happy—demanded 100 pesos ($10). We ignored him and drove off. Our suspicions were confirmed when the guy at the tire repair place (llantera servicio) showed us the puncture—it was a small, straight cut on the edge of tread, pretty obviously made by a small knife. Raoul had stuck a knife in the tire when we were at the beach and then expected us to pay him for helping us change it!

I want to emphasize that this has been the first time since we’ve been here that any Mexican has been anything but kind, friendly, and helpful. When I drove into La Paz alone last week and got a flat tire (a legitimate flat—there was a 2 inch long screw imbedded in the tire!), a guy in some kind of public utility truck who spoke no English gave me a ride to the tire repair shop several miles away, explained the situation to the repair shop guys (who agreed to come and fix the flat), drove me back to my car and refused to take any money at all. While I was waiting for the repair guy, another man came up and offered to change the tire for me and would have done so if the repair truck hadn’t pulled up just then. Yesterday when I was getting my nails done, there was a lot of construction noise—it was a new business, and they were still putting on the finishing touches. With one of her employees translating, the owner, who spoke no English, apologized profusely, and said I could come back anytime for a free half-hour massage to make up for having to put up with the noise. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow. We were going to leave for Cabo San Lucas tomorrow, but we understand the RV park we want to stay at is full until Thursday, so I guess we’ll be here at Los Cerritos “just one more day.”