FIND YOUR BEACH
Originally Published the Week of Nov. 7, 2022 in Western Outdoor Publications
When I first found myself living down here in the Baja almost 30 years ago, I thought I was in heaven . I was “living the dream” as it were.
In my previous “life” I had gone from a litigation attorney with a pin-striped suit and briefcase running in-and-out of courthouses with a demanding schedule.
I now found myself 10 miles down a dirt road.
I was working as the fishing guide, divemaster and chef for a little boutique hotel in a little bay. No more than 10 or 15 persons there at a time.
I lived in a little backpacker tent I had erected on a wooden pallet on the beach. I ran about a 100-yard extension cord from the main house so I could plug in a little 20-watt lamp.
Water was in a 5-gallon jug filled from a fresh-water well dug up in the arroyo. I had two pairs of shorts (one for fishing and one for scuba) ; 3 t-shirts and 2 sets of flip-flops for clothes.
I did have an array of fishing gear and dive gear oh, and I adopted a little black dog I found living in the hotel trash dump.
No internet. No phones. These were the days before that technology. Imagine that!
Getting supplies meant bouncing an hour down a dirt road to the nearest town.
Days were spent fishing or diving in the prettiest bluest clearest waters I’ve ever seen in my life. When I had no fishing clients, part of my job was to still catch fish for the hotel kitchen.
Crazy…I had a job where it was MY JOB to catch fish fresh fish! In the freakin’ Sea of Cortez!
Nights were spent cooking in the kitchen mostly, but after that, simply sitting in a beach chair in front of my tent. Or around the big blazing fire pit we would light for the clients and listening to the guests.
I remember skies with a zillion stars. You could actually see galaxies. And shooting stars Or moon-lit nights that were almost as bright as day.
And nothing but the sound of waves lapping the beach.
I touched no money. I wore no shoes. Never wrote a check. Never had to “return a call.” Washed my clothes in a bucket.
It was hard work and often a long day with no days off, but what’s that saying? “Find what you love to do and you’ll never work a day in your life.”
Sometimes you just know.
It was a special happy time. A good time. I had found my beach. Just like the popular commercial.
Fast forward almost 3 decades. Still in Baja.
Still doing a lot of the same things. But now on a much larger stage and scale.
Big city. Two big fishing fleets. A restaurant. Transportation company. Dozens of clients a day coming-and-going. No days off. A big payroll. All the accoutrements of running two companies in two different countries.
There are meetings and reports. Articles to write. Up every morning at 4 a.m. Inventories, lists, deadlines and so many moving parts every day.
We’ve been successful and blessed beyond deserving. I have a lovely wife now and hopefully, lots of happy employees and there’s nothing more gratifying than all the smiles we see every day.
Life is good. Life is grand.
I’ve got miles of beach right in front of me. I’m looking out the window as I type this.
But, it’s not MY beach. I’m happy, but it’s not my happy place. There’s a big difference.
So, this past week, Jill and I drove down another dirt road. Over an hour from La Paz where we live. We weren’t supposed to take the rental car “off-road” but hey…don’t ask permission…ask forgiveness.
We just hoped we didn’t get stuck somewhere. It almost happened where part of the dirt road had been washed away in the last rains and we almost got stuck in the loose sand and mud of the arroyo.
Our own rattle-trap car would definitely not have made the journey.
But, at the end of this road is a little spot.
With a few cabanas. And a kitchen. And a boat ramp. And palm trees on a beach that were planted over 100 years ago. And a little cemetery where the folks who planted those trees now rest tucked against a cliff that rises from the ocean.
There’s a little chapel on a hill. It was built by hand when everything was brought in by boat or hauled over the mountains.
The little pool is fresh sweet water that comes from a mountain spring. Swimming in it reminds you of bygone summer days and lying on that warm cement as a kid.
Many a time over the years, we’re the only ones there.
No music is played. No blenders are allowed. One must dress for dinner. Nothing elegant. Just basic simple tasty food made by ladies in the kitchen. Some have been there for decades.
The ladies who serve dinner dress in pinafores. It’s like they stepped out’ve a time capsule when life was simpler.
Candles only light the patios and tables.
There’s a formal “cocktail hour.” As it were. Basically, it just means it’s dark now. Come have a drink before dinner gets served .
You can fish. Or swim. Eat or nap. That’s what there is to do. Did I say nap?
Listen to the ocean or the wind that blows from the mountains. Watch the sun navigate slowly across the sky and paint the landscape with changing colors. Watch the moon and stars take it’s place illuminating the night in nocturnal silver.
I”d love to tell you the name of the place and where it is.
But as much as I blab on in my weekly writings, I think I will keep this one to myself. It feels like MY beach again. It feel like a place a came to long ago and had forgotten.
It’s good to touch that again.
Yes, you can come to visit your Cabo and Puerta Vallartas and Cancuns…and do all the tourist things. Nothing wrong with that.
But, I hope you can also find a little dirt road down to a beach that few people know. It might not even be on a map. I hope you find a little something different. Maybe a little part of yourself too.
And keep that spot all to yourself and how you got there. Cheers to finding your beach!
That’s my story!
Jonathan
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Jonathan Roldan has been writing the Baja Column in Western Outdoor News since 2004. Along with his wife and fishing buddy, Jilly, they own and run the Tailhunter International Fishing Fleet in La Paz, Baja, Mexico www.tailhunter.com.
They also run their Tailhunter Restaurant Bar on the famous La Paz malecon waterfront. If you’d like to contact him directly, his e-mail is: jonathan@tailhunter.com
Or drop by the restaurant to say hi. It’s right on the La Paz waterfront!
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Jonathan Roldan’s
Tailhunter Sportfishing
Website:
Mexico Office: Tailhunter International, 755 Paseo Obregon, La Paz, Baja Sur, Mexico
Phones:
from USA : 626-638-3383
from Mexico: 044-612-14-17863
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Tailhunter Weekly Fishing Report: http://fishreport.jonathanroldan.com/
Tailhunter YouTube Video Channel:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBLvdHL_p4-OAu3HfiVzW0g
“When your life finally flashes before your eyes, you will have only moments to regret all the things in life you never had the courage to try.”
That's My Story 
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