That's My Story

A BAJA STATE OF MIND

Originally published the week of December 18, 2007 in Western Outdoor News

I was whining and moaning a bit this week.

I had fishing clients. The season is pretty much over. The crowds have all gone and the waters are mostly empty. It’s that time of year. But, I have a few folks who come down some of whom are good friends and regulars.

And I wasn’t really happy.

For one, it’s been cloud, rainy and cold all week. Those of you who know me down here, know that I’m a shoeless, shorts and torn t-shirt guy all year. Formal wear means I’m wearing flip-flops on my feet.

This week, everyone is wearing fuzzy jackets, heavy sweatshirts and you’d be crazy to be barefooting. Bottom line, more or less miserable fishing weather.

And I’m not happy. I have fishing clients and I’m stressing. I want sunshine. I want warmth. I want glassy flat water. I want fish on the chew that jump in the boat when I wave my rod over the water.

As much as I really like these particular clients that are here right now, I really wish they weren’t here because this just isn’t Baja!

It’s like when relatives or friends drop in unannounced and your house is thrashed. You’re a caught wearing the shorts with disappearing failing elastic waistband and you have mattress hair. You’re not presentable. You don’t have your best face on or best foot forward. Can’t you come back another time, Uncle Joe?

Well, despite the chop, and wind, rain and bad conditions, the clients actually caught a mess of fish. They put the wood to the pescado although they were out there in slickers and boots…hardly Baja style!

Over dinner one evening, I leaned over and said, “I’m really glad you had a good day, but you should really come in the summer or fall when we really rock! The dorado go nuts. The sun is out. The hotel is one big party of fishermen and dancing on the bar and celebrating big catches, loud stories and big lies. It’s a hoot! Town is full and the restaurants and clubs are going full turbo!”

The husband looked at me and said, “Why would we want to do that?”

I was perplexed, but what he said next opened my eyes.

“We fish Cabo and the East Cape and Loreto at other times of the year. We come here specifically because it’s the off-season and NO ONE is here!”

I leaned in to listen.

“We always catch a mess of fish even though it’s December. But even moreso with no one here, it’s the one time of the year when my wife and I can be with each other; fish together; learn more about each other. She’s my best friend and we don’t get quality moments like this at any other time of the year.”

“There’s no distractions. We don’t need the crowds or better fishing. It’s a great time to be in Baja because it’s just US,” he said with grinning emphasis.

“The silence is wonderful and it’s just the two of us!” he smiled. And then he looked across the table at his wife who’s eyes were shining in the table candlelight.

The restaurant was nearly empty except for us and a lot of candlelit tables and twinkling Christmas lights. “Silent Night” in Spanish was playing softly over the speakers. The surf broke gently in the background over the last orange embers of a setting sun.

Well shut my mouth and open my eyes too. Deep breath. Take stock. Look around and listen.

Thanks for the reminder, my friends. All is calm. All is bright.

That’s my story. If you ever want to reach me, my e-mail is riplipboy@aol.com.