Life of a Beach Bum (Part 2)

In my beach bum fantasy, the cool (male) beach bum enjoys himself by playing in the ocean, hanging out with friends sipping Coronas, having a chick at times, and by idling his time people watching, and mesmerized by the ocean and its’ sea life. Idle time is what separates a beach bum from the average guy. The regular guy works a lot, only sees the beach during vacations, and has heaps of responsibilities (this pretty much describes me, at least who I was). On the other hand, for the beach bum, idle time is a necessary part of his existence, it defines him, it is the essence of his being; and, idle time allows him to engage in activities that others cannot, not because of a lack of desire, but because of mountains of responsibilities that comes with the regular lifestyle. You may ask, “What good is idle time? There is so much to be done, idleness is such a waste of time!” The kind of questions that little voice in my head wants to repeat over and over, like a mantra. Like many of you, my upbringing didn’t allow for idleness, nor did my work and family life. Idleness was, and for many still is, synonymous with being lazy, inactive, and unoccupied; strong words that should put-off any reasonable person from being idle.

I am not put-off. In fact, I get to explore idleness because of my situation - alone in a foreign country; Mexico during the summer months with no English speaking people around can be lonely. Oh, I don’t have to be idle, for there are many tasks around the house that could be done and keep me mind busy, so as not to think too much, but I chose to not let the chores run my life. Also, I really don’t have to stay here; I could go back to Portland, but I stay to practice aloneness. I am not equating aloneness with idleness, but in my situation one very easily brings on the other. So back to idleness, which for me does not mean inactivity nor unoccupied time; on the contrary, for me it is an active time, a time for introspection; a time for quietly observing nature and looking for something new and amazing each day; it is a time to enjoy moments of quiet solitude; and a time to work at bringing all this together in a practice of self-acceptance, and acceptance of what is.

Time alone is giving me a chance to find and learn new ways to express and process my feelings. Right now, for me, a new process I am using is to write down my feelings in an abstract form, so here is a poem I wrote that helped me cope with the loneliness I feel when Sharon leaves.


Loneliness
It’s a palpable sensation, but I don’t see anything.
The thick tropical air and ocean winds are themselves the same;
yet, they carry something new, but as old as time.
A new sensation, rolling, roiling waves, soundless crashing waves,
rises and falls in me, like the steady, constant ocean tide.
Things have changed.

Clouds still drift overhead, wind propelled, blown apart.
As they are, so am I, transformed into fragments, wisps of my former self.
The summer rains fall, the jungle greens, vines grow and cover all.
Creeping, unseen, in an insidious way, this change seeps into me;
through my skin, into my veins, settling in my chest, in my heart, in me.
Things are different.

Pelicans continue to glide over the ocean surface, and egrets still skillfully catch fish in the surf.
They are unconcerned, uncaring of the change that has come to our shared place.
Jacks, roosterfish, needlefish still stream through the waves, rejoicing their lives.
Swimming, eating, playing, and maybe loving;
Unlike them, I am chained by the change; unlike them, rejoicing is lost.
Paradise transformed.

Beach comers arrive, unaware, the change unseen, the new sensation unfelt.
They play on the beach, washed by the waves, warmed by the sun.
They are safe; they do not feel, see any changes; all appears normal.
Children play, adults eat and drink, all seems right, as it should be;
Yet, all this pains me, threatens to drown me in tidal waves of unwanted feelings.
A new sensation flows here.

I watch their gaiety, hear their laughter, and see their flirtations.
Lovers, young and old, walk the beach, sharing a need for each other.
Seeking each other’s touch, their fingers intertwine in loving caresses.
Desiring eyes gaze at each other, wanting, needing . . .
Their happiness is not contagious, it does not enter me, nor does it soothe me, as I had hoped;
The change has come.

Routine provides no comfort, my chores are burdens, a deep dullness hangs over all.
Hunger has left me; food is tasteless and provides little nourishment.
All that was good is gone, leaving behind dry, stale crumbs.
My eyes still see, but do not observe; my ears hear, but all is noise.
My brain moves on in a slow, laborious march through dense, blinding grayness.
A distorted place is left behind.

My body of lead, with paralyzed limbs, moves in slow motion through this new place.
Strength has faded, gracefulness has left me, lightness is gone.
Futility swirls around me, like a deadly, dense, black smoke;
falling from the heavens, settling in me.
Sunlight shoots down, each photon heavy, cold, penetrating deep.
The sunlight’s coldness burns me, scars me; it provides no warmth, it does not heal.
All is changed.

Crabs, Getting Stuck, and Near Drowning

How may crabs around this plant?

Natures Little Eight-legged Excavators
In Nature there is an abundance of creatures that tunnel into and live underground. We are all familiar with some of these creatures, such as the gopher, mole, and of course worms. These creatures and many other soil organisms have important jobs in the soils in which they live. One of their most important jobs is to burrow, burrow, and burrow; those of you trying to keep a nice lawn or garden are probably familiar with this behavior of these little creatures. But in their natural settings, away from manicured lawns, they have important environmental jobs. All the burrowing brings soil from deep-down, back up to the surface. These deep soils have many nutrients that are beneficial to plant growth. The burrows allow air to travel down underground where oxygen mixes with the soil and becomes available to plants for their growth. Also, these burrows increase water absorption by the soils, which is, as you might guess, also beneficial to plant growth. And for those of you that don’t like gophers and moles, remember, they are eaten by owls, foxes, snakes, and many other creatures.

Here in Tenacatita, and many other coastal areas, land crabs have the same jobs as gophers and moles. Land crabs live underground and are excellent excavators not only in sand, but also in dense soils. They are everywhere, and you can’t walk around without stirring-up numerous crabs that go scurrying away holding their pinchers straight up in their funny little defense postures. The other morning, I came up from walking the beach to find dozens and dozens of crabs all around the house; I was being invaded. I got to the house and turned a corner to find a line of 20 crabs along a low rock wall of the house; all equally spaced, holding their pinchers up towards me; running in unison along the wall, over the steps, and into the garden – it was hilarious!

Watching them excavate, I am impressed by their skillful abilities: using their body and claws as bulldozers they push a load of sand up to the surface, where they use their large clawed appendages to push the sand away from the hole into a mound in front of their hole. Yea, I know it sounds low tech, but come see how efficient they are at burrowing and you too will be amazed. Like gophers, crabs are eaten by many creatures, for example, today I saw a Great-tailed Grackle catching a small crab; and like gophers, they are a nuisance in my garden; I can see them now on top of my plants eating the leaves, they especially like my newly planted cactus. Plus, they burrow in my garden under my plants and when I water the water disappears down this never ending hole. They are also burrowing under the house – I wonder what they are doing under there? I should mentioned that it is not just one, two, or three crabs in the garden, but rather there is an never ending supply of them everywhere. All I can say is, you got to love them!

Near Drowning
On a recent hot afternoon, I went to Tenacatita beach to cool off with some boogie boarding; I’m not good at it, but I have fun. This day the water was unusually rough, with large crashing waves coming in one after another, and there was a strong under tow. I decided not to use my board, instead, I went in up to my waist and got beat up and pushed around by the large surges of water that came in with every wave. Of course there were those strong swimmers that were way out riding the waves before they crashed. I got out, sat at Fiesta Mexicana had a beer and did some people watching. It was Sunday, so it was busy with lots of people up and down the beach in front of all the restaurants. I was enjoying the views when suddenly three men came running as fast as they could up the beach yelling for a barca (fishing boat). Right behind the men came running several women, hollering something unintelligible, and waving their arms wildly. I looked down the beach in the direction they had come and I saw a large group of agitated people standing at the water’s edge, staring and pointing out into the ocean. I looked in the direction they pointed and I could see out beyond the breakers a head bobbing in the ocean. I was freaked out!

Suddenly, from among the large group of people down the beach, like superman, an over-weight, middle-aged man ran through the throng of people with his boogie board under his arm and crashed through the giant surf, jumped on his board and paddled furiously towards the drowning man. Middle-aged man was strong; he had powerful strokes as he rode his boogie board across the top of the waves, never once wavering in his determination to rescue the man that was steadily being carried further up the beach and further out by the strong current. As I continued to watch this drama, mesmerized by the danger, a young slender, but muscular man close to my end of the beach ran into the water with his boogie board and repeatedly tried to crash his way through the waves, but was repeatedly washed back by the giant surf; he quickly gave up exhausted and defeated. I continued to watch as my fear increased for the drowning man who by now had traveled at least 200-300 yards up the beach from where he had been washed out. He was now nearly in front of me moving fast to the north and further out with the current, but I could see he was floating on his back and seemed to be calm. As I watched, his rescuer, middle-aged man, continued to paddle strongly and did not seem at all tired and though he was still a ways off from the helpless man, he was getting closer.

Loud voices distracted my attention to the beach where the three men were now running back the other way, but this time carrying a kayak; the women were right behind. The guys put the kayak in the water and one of the men jumped in and did an incredibly skillful launch to get through the surf and waves, and was soon on his way towards the drowning man that continued to drift with the current. It was not long after that middle-aged guy reached the floating man who immediately grabbed the boogie board and was held there by his savior. A few minutes later the kayak reached them and the hapless man was hoisted onto the kayak and taken back to shore. They had to maneuver to the far north end of the beach in order to pull out of the water; in the crowds of people, I never did see the saved man. Meanwhile, middle-aged man rode his boogie board through the big waves back to shore where he was greeted to a chorus of cheers and claps. Obviously, the guy who nearly drowned knew what to do to stay alive until he was rescued. I am totally amazed at the bravery of the people that risk their lives to save someone else, even someone they don’t know. This will always be a mystery of life to me. Oh, let’s also chalk one up for the middle-aged guy!

Stuck Again
Once again visitors to this beach tried to drive on the sand and got stuck, even with their 4-wheel drive vehicle. One of the ladies walked into Tenacatita for help and came back with a guy in a 2-wheel drive Toyota, which also got stuck, surprise!? Finally a big 4x4 came along and pulled them both out of the sand. Meanwhile, the rest of the family enjoyed the day on the beach; I provided the ladies with the chairs, and a shovel for the guys. I’ve seen this happen here several times and each time amazingly everyone takes it in stride; wives don’t get upset, children just hang out and play, teenagers listen to their I-pods and play with their cell phones; and of course the buys are busy digging out the car. Hay no problema aqui, there’s no problem here, it’s just a family outing where we decided to get our car stuck in the sand.

Thunderstorm!

Last night there was the most intense thunderstorm I've been through. It started an hour before sunset with dense dark thunderheads rolling slowly towards the house from the south. i sat outside in the screened room to watch the lightning, and it was a spectacular show with lightning bolts shooting into the ocean and lighting the entire sky. However, at one point a bolt of lightning struck the ground somewhere between Michael and Sylvia's property and our house. I jumped high, ran inside and shut the door, and proceeded to watch the show from the safety of my bed! It lasted for hours and there were several additional strikes very close to the house. I finally fell asleep and woke up to a clear, humid day. It looks more are coming this evening.

Long overdue posts . . .

July 3, 2008
Calm has settled on us. After the two days of Tropical Storm Douglas, the ocean is still pushing in big waves, but the ocean height has receded to near normal and the offshore rocks are once again visible above the ocean. It is bright day with scattered large clouds; an unusually beautiful day, with a blue tinge to everything (check out the photos). The air is sparkling clear, glistening with the blueness of the sky and ocean reflected all through the atmosphere. As I look around, everything is not the same; it is clear that the beach has taken the brunt of the storm: What was once a rolling, undulating beach, with four distinct levels, is changed. The constant pounding of the big waves, combined with the high water, washed away the undulating portion of the beach and the flat area above it, creating a long, wide, flat beach. Unbelievable!

The vegetation seems unchanged, but trees were knocked down and snags (dead trees) were also felled. The animals seem to have fared well; we did not find dead birds, or washed up fish or other sea life. The sea life and other wildlife all seem to have their own unique way of coping with the storm. The rain did a great deal of good, except where it flooded in pueblos and cities, recharging the dry, rock-hard soils, which were so dry that the rivers hardly rose after the many inches of rain that fell. Most of the rain soaked into the ground.

July 4, 2008

A pleasant consequence of the rains was that we got to observe the annual march of the land crab! The mollos or moyos (local name for the land crab) are a large, some measuring over 5” in diameter, strange, and beautiful creature. With their blue carapace, red legs with long, dark hair-like spines, and one giant claw, the other is relatively small, they look like colorful miniature tanks slowly rolling along. Walking with a slow determined purpose, marching to a special, secret place, only they know of. This continuous march lasted for two days, with the first day having the most crabs. People came out in large family groups gathering along the highway collecting buckets and bags of the large crabs. Moyos, are delicious and have quite a bit of meat on them. Our friends, Josuel and Adriena, brought us a Tupperware container full of moyos, which we ate hesitantly at first, but devoured them after we learned how good they tasted. That’s it for this year; we’ll have to wait until next year for their return.

Moyos start their journey in the adjacent forested hill, making a long and dangerous trek to the ocean. As you can imagine, crossing roads is their most difficult part of their trip. After mating, the female spends four months in her burrow in gestation. When conditions are right, heavy rain and the highest tide of the month, they emerge out of their burrows and begin their journey. They need the high tide, with a long wash of water up the beach, so they can lay their eggs in the water without getting washed out. They come out by the millions all along the coast of Jalisco, and they were all over our beach, by the hundreds, crawling everywhere, in groups of 5, 10, 20, all walking away from the ocean towards the laguna (lagoon).

July 11, 2008
Beach slowly re-heals
The beach is beginning to heal after the pounding of Tropical Storm Douglas. No longer is it a long, flat beach, but now the waves have created a step drop-off where they crash, as existed before the storm. The steep drop-off has started the reformation of the undulating dunes that was a major characteristic of our beach.

Not long after writing the above note, we were pounded for two days with giant waves from hurricane Bertha. At the closest it was 260 miles west of Manzanillo. Once again the beach is wide and flat. During the summer, this beach is evidently very dynamic, changing constantly under the battering from off-shore storms. I would hate to see one of these storms come on shore!

July 14, 2008
Summer Rains
Spring is here in Tenacatita. It may feel like summer but the trees, shrubs, and herbaceous plants are just now starting to green up. The rains from the big storm and several other thunderstorms have produced a flush of life, with plants coming to life creating a lush green carpet covering the mountains, hillsides, and pastures. It seems to have happened overnight, hillsides that were dry brush and leafless trees have changed to dense green, impenetrable jungle. Many trees and other plants are blooming, which delightfully brings out many beautiful, multi-sized and –colored butterflies. Summer, with its life giving rain, so quickly created on our hillsides a natural garden of blossoming plants, filled with an array of colorful breeding birds and insect life.

The summer rains brought us the march of the Moyos , a serendipitous, totally fascinating experience. Now we excitedly (or fearfully) wait for the march of the tarantulas, which we are told will happen this summer. The summer rains are a constant here in Tenacatita, and it is a joyful event as is seen in the attitudes of the local people who do not let the rain stop their daily routines, and by the myriad adaptations of plants and animals to the cycles of the rain. The winter months here in Tenacatita are beautiful, with mild warm weather, but the intensity and diversity of life found in this place is only fully expressed with the summer rains.

July 15, 2008
Summer is a Poor Fishing Season
Fishing has been very, very slow. Water conditions seem fine to me, but I have seen few baitfish or swarming schools of feeding fish, nor diving water birds. I caught one needlefish, lost two others, and caught a small 1.5 lb jack. Needlefish seem to be the most common fish biting now. Yesterday, I saw a boil of bait fish and as I watched them a four foot needlefish came shooting 4 feet out of the water with a fish in its long, toothed snout! What a sight! A friend, Joe, tells me that soon the roosterfish should be showing up along the shore, so I keep an eye on the water anxious for some action. But most locals say that fishing will not improve until September when the boca del laguna (mouth of the lagoon) breaks open from the rains (it is blocked by wave created sand dunes) and lets loose lots of fish, especially snook. Snook grow up in mangrove swamps, the laguna, and this type habitat is essential breeding and rearing habitat. Very likely, summer is breeding season for local game fish, and they won’t show up until the breeding season ends (September?).

July 17, 2008
Joe was correct; the roosterfish are coming close to shore. Today I landed a 10 lb roosterfish (gallo in Spanish). I had three strikes, where I wasn’t able to set the hook, when suddenly I got a sold hit from this beautiful roosterfish. It gave a good fight for 15 minutes, making short runs, but mostly staying in the surf, where it was hard for me to land her (sex determined during cleaning).

Sharon Leaves

Sad news for me! Sharon left today for Los Estados Unidos, the US. She wasn´t very happy down here in the heat and humidity and spent much of her time in the air conditioned bedroom. We did go in the ocean and boogie board, and a few other things, but the heat was stifling.

Tropical Storm Douglas

"The Marginal World", from The Edge of the Sea, by Rachel Carson

Only the most hardy and adaptable can survive in a region so mutable, yet the area between the tide lines is crowded with plants and animals. In this difficult world of the shore, life displays its enormous toughness and vitality by occupying almost every conceivable niche. Visibly, it carpets the intertidal rocks; or half hidden, it descends into fissures and crevices, or hides under boulders, or lurks in the wet gloom of sea caves. Invisibly, where the casual observer would say there is no life, it lies deep in the sand, in burrows and tubes and passageways. It tunnels into solid rock and bores into peat and clay. It encrusts weeds or drifting spars or the hard, chitinous shell of a lobster. It exist minutely, as the film of bacteria that spreads over a rock surface or a wharf piling; as spheres of protozoa, small as pinpricks, sparkling at the surface of the seas; and as Lilliputain beings swimming through dark pools that lie between the grains of sand.

June 30, 2008

On Being a Beach Bum
Living the life of a beach bum: spending all my time on the seashore, chasing hot California girls, fishing and eating my catch - a romantic life! Growing up in New York I thought living in California and hanging on the beach would be a fun exciting life, and one that I had hoped to experience. In my young mind I envisioned all night beach parties with bonfires, music, drinking, and of course lots of attractive California girls. Days were spent recuperating and enjoying the hot sunny beaches and staying cool in the shade of a coconut tree and swimming in the ocean. I‘m not sure where the money was suppose to come from but for some reason I never imagined working. Of course, these were the ideals of a younger person growing up in what I thought was boring New York and being raised by strict Italian parents. Now that I am nearly 60 and live part-time on the Pacific seashore of central Mexico, I do not miss the imagined bonfires with loud music and fun parties; but I do take tequila and beer in moderation, and lucky for me, my wife just happens to be a hot California girl.

I find coastal living to be so much more than I envisioned as a young man. Living on the beach today, without the preoccupations of a young person to always be doing, going, and chasing; having an abundance of energy and exuberance that needs to be spent on youthful endeavors, I enjoy my quiet time when I can. I contemplate, observe, smell, and touch my new environment. Living only 100 yards or so, depending on the tide, from the waters edge, I am continually awed by the incredible, raw power of and variety of life in the Pacific Ocean. The constant waves crashing thunderously on the beach are both soothing and a source of constant awareness of the closeness and power of the ocean. At nighttime lying quietly in bed, I can feel the house vibrate when an exceptionally large wave crashes; in my half-sleep, I wonder how close the wave is to the house? Is there a bigger one behind it? The winds are also a constant on our beach with a light offshore breeze starting at daybreak and then swinging to the northwest and increasing as the day progresses. By afternoon we have a strong wind that often creates white caps; and by dusk it is quiet again. We also get south/southwest winds, which are generally associated with storms and rain.

In my mind, a beach bum leads a simple, carefree life, while living on the beach and eating out of the ocean. So how am I doing in living this life style . . .

On being a beach bum’s wife (a response from Sharon)
The truth is: The beach bum does chase his one attractive California girl, more than he watches the waves or the beach creatures. And he does drink beer and tequila. He may have waited till he was 60 but now he is making up for lost time. (This paragraph was added by Sharon).

July 3, 2008

Tropical Storm Douglas
In the late afternoon of July 1 the beginning of Tropical Storm Douglas began here in Tenacatita. It started as a stiff wind and dark clouds rolling in from the south/southwest. Within the hour, the winds increased and the rains began. Over the next few hours, as dark set in, the winds increased to a point were they were making an eerie howling sound. During the night we could hear the wind and rain beating against the house, and while lying huddled quietly together in bed, we could hear numerous thudding sounds outside, but we didn’t know what it was. At one point, a five gallon bucket left on the roof by the workers started rolling around making loud thudding sounds on the roof until finally it blew off and landed with a loud crash in the garden next to the bedroom. This spooked us! And then there was the ocean, with it’s loud crashing waves, glowing white and foamy in the darkness. We both slept fitfully that night.
Clean-up of Tenacatita Beach
We awoke to the same sounds that we went to sleep with: howling, shrieking winds, rain beating against the house, and thunderous crashing waves. We dressed and went outside under our ramada to experience the storm we slept through and was still ongoing. It was an incredible experience of sight and sound: the wind strength was such that all the branches on every palm tree for as far as you could see were bent straight out, waving wildly, and facing in the same direction. We could see giant palm branches sailing through the air and the sound of coconuts falling to the ground all around. Beach litter, plastic bottles, large chunks of Styrofoam, tangled pieces of rope and fishing nets, where flying up the beach faster than a person could run. The rains fell in torrents, blowing sideways in dense, gray sheets, reducing visibility to tens of feet. Rivulets of water started flowing from the top of the sand dune, and coalesced into small streams running down our driveway and forming a small lake at the bottom next to the main road. We walked the beach at high tide, keeping a respectable distance from the breakers, and were awed by how much higher the ocean was from normal; there was an obvious ocean surge that was intense and scary. The ocean was a wild mess, with breakers crashing one after another, with no space between them; they were violent, churning and tossing themselves into a giant roiling, foaming surf that rushed far up the beach, ending as huge piles of suds that were caught by the winds and hurled down the beach along with the litter.

The storm never hit land here, staying out at sea. Yet it was a powerful, dangerous storm, and caused us much worry. Here on our beach, which is open ocean, at high tide the rushing waves reached to the bottom of the vegetation on the dune that our house sits on, but never was our house threatened by ocean waves. We did however find two small water leaks in our roof, and for the most part our house is strongly constructed. Not everyone fared as well as us: in Tenacatita there was considerable damage go Palapa roofs which were blown away or ripped to pieces. There was also water damage from the ocean surge that washed away tables and chairs from the restaurant, and in all the beach restaurants the water washed away sand, or deposited sand where unwanted. Of course, everyone had something blown away never to be seen again, and every leak in a roof or wall was revealed! The storm caused much flooding in La Manzanilla and in Melaque, which you can read about and see pictures off in Sharon‘s blog page: http://www.keepupwithsharon.blogspot.com. For those of us from Tenacatita to Emiliano Zapata, the storm caused a 34 hour power outage. It was a storm to remember.


“That the sea, with its multiform and mysterious hosts, its savage and senseless rages,” comfortably serves as a divine metaphor. Modified from the short story, Lifeguard, by John Updike.