That's My Story

BUYING YOUR BAJA SPOT Pt. 1 – Published July 2005 – Western Outdoor News

I’m probably going to hate myself for telling you how to do this, but I think I get asked several times a day about buying land in Mexico. You might as well jump in too…everyone else is!

So, I bet you heard that foreigners can’t own Mexican land. Well, if that were the case then thousands of Americans buying up the Baja must be investing in the wrong place and all these subdivisions springing up from Rosarito and San Felipe to Land’s End, must be getting bulldozed for the French. Here’s the bottom line. You absolutely can own Mexican property. Ask all those former San Diegans who now own beach front property lining the cliffs between Ensenada and Tijuana and commute back and forth to their jobs in Chula Vista and Del Mar!

I’m no real estate Einstein, but because I get asked this all the time, I did a little research and found a pretty succinct explanation in the land brochures offered by the folks developing the massive El Dorado Ranch in San Felipe.

I’m going to do this in 2 parts with a little background this week and then follow it up with some practical information next week.

Technically speaking, Joe American cannot own Mexican property. Previously, Mexico had welcomed foreign settlement which is basically how places like Texas, Arizona, California, et. al. got settled. The problem with Americans however is that once we move in, we don’t like moving out. (See “The Alamo”, “Davy Crockett”, “Jim Bowie”). So we had this little war with our neighbors to the south. To end the war, in 1848, we made Mexico give us what basically became the southeastern United States.

You can see why in 1917, when Mexico formed their current federal constitution, they were still smarting a bit and enacted legislation restricting foreign ownership of their most precious commodity…land! It allowed Mexican Nationals and Mexican companies to own property, but prohibited foreign ownership or businesses within the “restricted zone” (62 miles from the borders and 31 miles from any coast).

However, there’s something magical about the words “American investment dollars” that makes all things possible. Mexico, however, like many countries on the planet realized that there’s nothing like American cash and that it had to find a way to encourage American investment without making it’s constitution rollover like 3 day old bait.

Therefore, in 1992 it enacted an amendment to the Mexican Constitution in conjunction with the Foreign Investment Act of 1993. Accordingly, these measures created a system that allows foreigners to suddenly own property in the restricted zone that was still in harmony with it’s Constitution. Called a “Fideicomiso,” (Real Estate Bank Trust) this symantic play-on-legislation also allowed foreigners to form Mexican corporations as well as run businesses in Mexico without a Mexican partner.

Next week, I’ll tell how how the Fideicomiso works. However, here’s what the El Dorado folks say about investing and buying in Mexico:

Mexico is the #1 free-trade country in the world having free-trade agreements with 32 countries. It’s the #2 free trade partner with the U.S. and the #1 trade partner with California and has the 9th largest economy in the world. It’s also the #1 vacation destination for Americans and by far the #1 retirement destination for Americans.

That’s my story…
Jonathan

BUYING YOUR BAJA SPOT Pt. 1 – Published July 2005 – Western Outdoor News

I’m probably going to hate myself for telling you how to do this, but I think I get asked several times a day about buying land in Mexico. You might as well jump in too…everyone else is!

So, I bet you heard that foreigners can’t own Mexican land. Well, if that were the case then thousands of Americans buying up the Baja must be investing in the wrong place and all these subdivisions springing up from Rosarito and San Felipe to Land’s End, must be getting bulldozed for the French. Here’s the bottom line. You absolutely can own Mexican property. Ask all those former San Diegans who now own beach front property lining the cliffs between Ensenada and Tijuana and commute back and forth to their jobs in Chula Vista and Del Mar!

I’m no real estate Einstein, but because I get asked this all the time, I did a little research and found a pretty succinct explanation in the land brochures offered by the folks developing the massive El Dorado Ranch in San Felipe.

I’m going to do this in 2 parts with a little background this week and then follow it up with some practical information next week.

Technically speaking, Joe American cannot own Mexican property. Previously, Mexico had welcomed foreign settlement which is basically how places like Texas, Arizona, California, et. al. got settled. The problem with Americans however is that once we move in, we don’t like moving out. (See “The Alamo”, “Davy Crockett”, “Jim Bowie”). So we had this little war with our neighbors to the south. To end the war, in 1848, we made Mexico give us what basically became the southeastern United States.

You can see why in 1917, when Mexico formed their current federal constitution, they were still smarting a bit and enacted legislation restricting foreign ownership of their most precious commodity…land! It allowed Mexican Nationals and Mexican companies to own property, but prohibited foreign ownership or businesses within the “restricted zone” (62 miles from the borders and 31 miles from any coast).

However, there’s something magical about the words “American investment dollars” that makes all things possible. Mexico, however, like many countries on the planet realized that there’s nothing like American cash and that it had to find a way to encourage American investment without making it’s constitution rollover like 3 day old bait.

Therefore, in 1992 it enacted an amendment to the Mexican Constitution in conjunction with the Foreign Investment Act of 1993. Accordingly, these measures created a system that allows foreigners to suddenly own property in the restricted zone that was still in harmony with it’s Constitution. Called a “Fideicomiso,” (Real Estate Bank Trust) this symantic play-on-legislation also allowed foreigners to form Mexican corporations as well as run businesses in Mexico without a Mexican partner.

Next week, I’ll tell how how the Fideicomiso works. However, here’s what the El Dorado folks say about investing and buying in Mexico:

Mexico is the #1 free-trade country in the world having free-trade agreements with 32 countries. It’s the #2 free trade partner with the U.S. and the #1 trade partner with California and has the 9th largest economy in the world. It’s also the #1 vacation destination for Americans and by far the #1 retirement destination for Americans.

That’s my story…
Jonathan

I BELIEVE – Published July 2004 – Western Outdoor News

I’ve been doing this Baja gig now for quite a few years. I’m not Ray Cannon, Fred Hoctor or Gene Kira when it comes to the amount of knowledge those guys accumulated marching all over this peninsula. However, I do know what I know. And, to that end, I’ve posted Jonathan’s Baja Creed about what I believe:

I believe:

That Aero California will be late 9 out of 10 times

That if you lose your luggage it will always be on the flight AFTER the one they tell you

That no one will ever have a definitive answer about whether you can or cannot bring reels on a plane with the line spooled

That you will never understand what the flight attendant says in English over the plane’s p.a. system.

That when it comes to impressing your friends about your ability to eat chili or salsa, “Fire in…fire out!”

That there is a reason even the locals call mescal and tequila shots, “Salsa de Payaso” (Clown sauce)

That the more tackle you bring, the less you lose and whatever you left at home, you will need

That it takes 2 hours to pack your clothes, but 2 weeks to pack fishing tackle…and another 2 weeks to adjust it over and over and over and over…

That you will never think about how well you tied your fishing knot until you’re into the second hour of a long battle

That ice cold water never tasted so good

That duct tape ever had so many uses

That the sun could stay up longer than 24 hours or that a hangover could last even longer…even with the time change
In the “Rule of 6” which says that if your 10 best friends say are DEFINITELY going on this year’s Baja trip, only 6 will actually end up going

In the” Rule of 5” which says that of that 6, one will remember at the last minute that his daughter is getting married and he has a dental appointment leaving you with an odd 5th man and the charter package is for “double occupancy.”

That the least experienced guy catches the biggest fish

That bringing bananas is a good way to play or joke or start a fight

That anyone who falls asleep dead drunk in front of his buddies deserves to be a Kodak moment for the creative ingenuity of his friends

That those little walkie talkie phones everyone carries “guaranteed for 2 miles” only work if your boat is next to your buddy’s boat

That the prouder you are of that great fishing t-shirt the great the chance you will get enchilada sauce on it

That any 4 door rental car is fully capable of transporting 8 fully grown fishermen and their fishing gear

That if there is one mosquito in the hotel, it will find your room and your ear in the middle of the night

That if you’re crossing the border, your car will always pick the wrong lane behind the slowest cars and next to the vendor who will insist that you buy the giant ceramic Tweety Bird or the Elvis on velvet painting

That the metric system will never make sense

That speaking Spanish is easy if you just add the letter “O” to the end of any English word and “El” to the front of it. (el luggage-o, el street-o, el store-o) And you have every right to expect that any local will understand EXACTLY what you are saying

The “Ice Rule” which says that he who has the most ice makes the rules

That salsa and chips are a legitimate food group

That the guy who orders the most food and drinks is the one most likely to say “let’s divide the bill among us” and “Can you cover me, I only have big bills?”

That Mexico is the only place where a sunburn received while wearing a tank top is a fashion statement

That’s my story…
Jonathan

I BELIEVE – Published July 2004 – Western Outdoor News

I’ve been doing this Baja gig now for quite a few years. I’m not Ray Cannon, Fred Hoctor or Gene Kira when it comes to the amount of knowledge those guys accumulated marching all over this peninsula. However, I do know what I know. And, to that end, I’ve posted Jonathan’s Baja Creed about what I believe:

I believe:

That Aero California will be late 9 out of 10 times

That if you lose your luggage it will always be on the flight AFTER the one they tell you

That no one will ever have a definitive answer about whether you can or cannot bring reels on a plane with the line spooled

That you will never understand what the flight attendant says in English over the plane’s p.a. system.

That when it comes to impressing your friends about your ability to eat chili or salsa, “Fire in…fire out!”

That there is a reason even the locals call mescal and tequila shots, “Salsa de Payaso” (Clown sauce)

That the more tackle you bring, the less you lose and whatever you left at home, you will need

That it takes 2 hours to pack your clothes, but 2 weeks to pack fishing tackle…and another 2 weeks to adjust it over and over and over and over…

That you will never think about how well you tied your fishing knot until you’re into the second hour of a long battle

That ice cold water never tasted so good

That duct tape ever had so many uses

That the sun could stay up longer than 24 hours or that a hangover could last even longer…even with the time change
In the “Rule of 6” which says that if your 10 best friends say are DEFINITELY going on this year’s Baja trip, only 6 will actually end up going

In the” Rule of 5” which says that of that 6, one will remember at the last minute that his daughter is getting married and he has a dental appointment leaving you with an odd 5th man and the charter package is for “double occupancy.”

That the least experienced guy catches the biggest fish

That bringing bananas is a good way to play or joke or start a fight

That anyone who falls asleep dead drunk in front of his buddies deserves to be a Kodak moment for the creative ingenuity of his friends

That those little walkie talkie phones everyone carries “guaranteed for 2 miles” only work if your boat is next to your buddy’s boat

That the prouder you are of that great fishing t-shirt the great the chance you will get enchilada sauce on it

That any 4 door rental car is fully capable of transporting 8 fully grown fishermen and their fishing gear

That if there is one mosquito in the hotel, it will find your room and your ear in the middle of the night

That if you’re crossing the border, your car will always pick the wrong lane behind the slowest cars and next to the vendor who will insist that you buy the giant ceramic Tweety Bird or the Elvis on velvet painting

That the metric system will never make sense

That speaking Spanish is easy if you just add the letter “O” to the end of any English word and “El” to the front of it. (el luggage-o, el street-o, el store-o) And you have every right to expect that any local will understand EXACTLY what you are saying

The “Ice Rule” which says that he who has the most ice makes the rules

That salsa and chips are a legitimate food group

That the guy who orders the most food and drinks is the one most likely to say “let’s divide the bill among us” and “Can you cover me, I only have big bills?”

That Mexico is the only place where a sunburn received while wearing a tank top is a fashion statement

That’s my story…
Jonathan

WHERE AND WHEN TO FISH – Published Sept. 2005 – Western Outdoor Magazine – Baja Backbeat

“I have 4 guys and we need to book a boat for 3 days,” is how it usually starts on the phone.

“OK, that’s great!” I’ll reply. “Tell me when you want to come down and what you want to catch so that I can figure out what’s best for you and the guys.”

“Well, this is our first time in Mexico so we want to catch tuna, marlin, wahoo, roosterfish and yellowtail. And we’re coming Christmas week and we want to fish in Cabo San Lucas and Loreto.”

That’s just about the time there’s silence on my side of the phone. At that point, I know it’s going to take a bit of explaining.

Half the project of having a successful fishing trip in the Baja is doing a bit of research. It’s as important or even more important than the type of rods, reels and lures you plan to bring down. Baja and it’s surrounding waters were called the “aquarium of the world” by Jacques Cousteau and it remains one of the premier fishing destinations in the world. But it helps to know where you’re going and what’s going to be biting when you arrive. As good as it can be, it’s still “fishing” and you can be setting yourself up for disappointment if your catch does not match your expectations.

“I’ve been working for various fleets for years,” said one fleet manager. “I do fishing trade shows all over the United States. I cannot begin to tell you how many people come up to me and tell me that they came to Baja and it was terrible fishing and so overrated. Then, I find out they came down in January expecting to catch dorado or marlin. Or they complained because it was so windy and rough. That would be like me going to the Rocky Mountains and complaining because I couldn’t snow ski in July!”

A LITTLE RESEARCH GOES A LONG WAY

There are more than 700 species of known fish in Baja waters of which several dozen could be classified as gamefish of one type or another. These range from inshore structure fish like cabrilla, snapper and pargo to beach fish such as roosterfish and other jacks up into the “glamour” blue water species such as marlin, sailfish, tuna, wahoo, marlin and dorado, among others.

No matter what you see in all the fishing magazines and glossy brochures touting the fishing, read the fine print or the fish charts that may or may not be attached. Just because the Sea of Cortez is loaded with fish, that doesn’t mean that all the occupants are around all the time. Some species only come into shallow waters at certain types of the year. Others are only found in certain places, for example, beaches. vs. rocky areas. Some are migratory and follow certain patterns through certain areas. Marlin would be a good example. Others follow the bait and water temperatures, like dorado.

For instance, all the folks who come to Cabo San Lucas during the Christmas holidays looking for the marlin they saw on their hotel brochures might catch one of the migratory stripers coming through the area moving around the Cape from Bahia Magdalena up into the Sea of Cortez, but their chances of catching one or certainly diminished compared so say, fishing in the summer or fall months. By the same token, big waters from the Pacific, can make fishing hard and rough. It didn’t say that in the travel brochures and the travel agent back in Portland sure didn’t know anything about the fishing either. Talk to a knowledgeable person.

KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO CATCH

Along those same lines, there are so many other species that are seasonal and no matter how good your boat captain is, he can’t wave a magic wand over the waters to make tuna appear off San Quintin in March; dorado in Loreto in February; or sailfish during the windy winter months of the East Cape. That’s not to say it CAN’T happen or it will NEVER happen, but the odds are against you and with fishing, you always want to max your chances.

In the first example of the conversation at the beginning of this article, yellowtail are normally a cooler water fish with winter and spring being better with the best results being areas like Loreto, Mulege, Santa Rosalia or Bahia de Los Angeles in and around the rocky areas. The other species, like tuna and billfish are best chased in more open water and in the warmer waters of the late spring, summer and fall. Roosterfish are a spring and summer catch and done snug up against the beaches. Wahoo are also a bluewater fish, but prime times seem to be in the spring and fall.

KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING

It can be as simple as looking at a map. For instance, if you know that Cabo San Lucas and Loreto are 7 hours drive away, it’s going to be a logistically difficult to fish those places in the same day. Baja is a thousand-mile-long-peninsula with more than two thousand miles of coastline bordering the Sea of Cortez and the Pacific Ocean. There as many weather, current, and species differences as well as manners of fishing as there are between say, San Diego CA and Seattle WA. Also, fishing in the Pacific will be different from fishing in the Sea of Cortez.

Along those same lines, your chances of catching a marlin are pretty slim way up the Sea of Cortez in some place like Puertocitos or San Felipe. The fish just don’t go up that far and no matter what you do or who you book with, the likelihood of a marlin appearing on the end of your line are about as good as the tooth fairy bringing you that bike you always wanted. Similarly, “summer” fishing in a location such as Castro’s Camp or Ensenada on the northern Pacific side of Baja is not the same as “summer” fishing out of Los Barriles on the East Cape. These two areas are separated by two oceans and 800 miles of Baja Peninsula.

A QUICK THUMBNAIL

There’s no way to do a complete and exact schedule for fishing in Baja. In addition to the variables of weather, wind, climate and tides, frankly fish just don’t keep regular hours or times or punch a clock. However, in brief, here’s some generalities about fishing times in the waters of Baja:

WINTER – On both the Pacific and Sea of Cortez, winds can howl. You can get two days of calm and 4 days of wind and vice versa. Chop and swell can be a problem in areas that are not protected. Big waters can be found around the tip at Cabo and San Jose del Cabo which face the open ocean. Waters are cooler for obvious reasons.

Because of the cooler waters and sometimes uncomfortable conditions, inshore fishing is best during these months. On the Pacific side, rockfishing for reds, ling cod, and other bottom fish can be outstanding in northern Baja. On the Sea of Cortez side, cabrilla and other bass-type rock fish are the main quarry. As you move further south along both flanks of the Baja, expect to see a bit more variety. Some pargo might show. Some early roosters as well as sierra mackerel especially as you move further south. Loreto, Mulege, San Rosalia, the Midriffs and Bay of L.A. could start getting their first runs of yellowtail At the Cape, early season striped marlin have begun moving from Mag Bay around and into the Sea of Cortez.

SPRING – As waters warm, winds start to diminish making for more pleasant days on the water. The warmer the waters, the more pelagic species start showing up. In northern Baja, bonito, barracuda and maybe early yellowtail begin popping up on the Pacific. The yellowtail bite gets better from the around the central Baja coast on the Sea of Cortez side. More species begin showing up as you go further south and water temps rise. Roosterfish beging showing along the beaches.Other members of the jack family including pompano, amberjack, jack crevalle, and yellowtail are more predominant in the counts. Bigger schools of snapper and pargo including dog tooth snapper, mullet snapper and others are along the shores. Sometimes tuna make their appearance in the fall if water and bait conditions are right for the southern parts of Baja. Striped marlin and possibly sailfish begin showing up in the counts. Look for some wahoo around La Paz, East Cape and Cabo.

SUMMER – Baja comes alive. In the northern Pacific side of Baja, kelp paddies bring yellowtail as well as schools of albacore, yellowfin and bluefin tuna to the high spots. Occasionally dorado also make a show following warm currents into lower California waters. Dorado and sailfish are prime time for Santa Rosalia to Cabo San Lucas. More marlin including the big blue and black marlin are in the southern areas. Schooling tuna can be found along the entire southern part of Baja if conditions are right.

THE FALL – Sometimes this is the best fishing in the Baja. Waters stay warm although air temperatures might cool down a bit and many of the summer crowds are gone. In the southern Baja, there’s a reason so many of the largest marlin and tuna tournaments in the world are held around Cabo San Lucas, including WON’s own tuna tournament. It’s where the fish are. All the glamour species can be caught in the fall, especially before the winter winds come up. This includes, marlin, sailfish, tuna, dorado, and wahoo. This pattern continues all the way up the Sea of Cortez in varying degrees, but some truly outstanding fishing can be had. On the Pacific side from Cabo up to San Diego, the high spots, ridges and banks can be some of the most prolific tuna and wahoo waters on the planet. Areas outside Bahia Magdalena such as the Thetis Bank and the ridges that run up towards Benitos and Cedros Island can hold some of the best fishing in the world during the fall.

BAHIA DE LOS MUERTOS – Published March 2005- Western Outdoors Magazine Baja Backbeat

Where I work and fish, there’s a beautiful little cove. Filled with the kind of turquoise waters; sienna mountains and that warm sand you see on travel brochures. It’s a spot that Jimmy Buffet would sing about.

Sitting on the beach, it’s always “Five O’Clock Somewhere.” Even the earlier inhabitants thought so as remains of old native Pre-Columbian villages and artifacts have been found there in just about the same spot I’d love to put up a palapa with a hammock. Over the many years that I’ve worked there, it’s always been known as Ensenada de Los Muertos (“Cove of the Dead”). It has kind of a cool ring to it…very pirate-like, don’t you think?

As legend has it there had been a mutiny on a pirate ship plying the Cortez waters and the mutineers lost. They were rewarded with a permanent beach party here marooned with no water, no food and no VISA cards. Some say their bones, or someone’s bones dating back to about that time were found a few decades ago and hence the name. Another legend has it that on the old dirt road skirting the cove, a rusted chest of Cortez pearls were once found by a road crew. I just love this old stuff. It’s Baja.

Well, a few years ago, they changed the name to Bahia de Los Suenos (Dreamer’s Bay). Whoa! Doesn’t sound very Johnny Depp, or Errol Flynn to me or even like something that metal-clad captain Hernando Cortes’ would have used to name something. But they had nothing to do with it. Real estate is the new currency of the realm, not chests of pearls; spices; silks; or cargos of gold although, like most things, gold is very much involved…the fabled “El Dorado” and the “Seven Cities of Gold” to be exact. You see, “Dreamer’s Bay” sure sounds a lot more enticing to prospective home buyers and developers than “Cove of the Dead.” (“Honey, let’s buy a condo at “Cove of the Dead”).

I’ve been in Mexico for awhile now and for at least the past decade it has provided me with a wonderful livelihood, friends, memories and a newly adopted 2nd country that I call home. But I wasn’t there during the days of my predecessors who wrote on these pages and who became icons of the Baja. I wasn’t around with John Steinbeck and Doc Ricketts when he wrote the “Log of the Sea of Cortez” about having to wait for a harbor pilot to help navigate into the Bay of La Paz and watching folks in white suites sip drinks on their fine yachts. I wasn’t there to fish with Ray Cannon and see all those huge totuava in San Felipe or belly up to the bars on the East Cape when beer was often served warm. I wasn’t there to ramble down the old Transpeninsular Highway with crusty Fred Hoctor or catch yellowtail at the Bufadora near Ensenada. I wasn’t even there with my good friend, Gene Kira, during the many times he pulled his tin boat down whatever arroyo-pocked dirt road that looked like it might have had access to the beach and a place to set up camp. I’d have loved to have helped him fix a tire sometime and listen to him tell me stories. I’m a late comer. I’m a “tweener”…in between the “Golden Age” and watching the Baja rocket into the future in fast forward.

But I do remember what I remember. There was a time when Cabo San Lucas actually didn’t have a Burger King and I could see real water from any hotel room. I remember the East Cape and driving down 10 miles of dirt roads from Las Cuevas and having to take the air out of my tires a bit to soften them from the washboard that would rattle the nuts right out’ve…well…everything…people included!

The cows in Cabo Pulmo would routinely eat the single phone wire in town rending it isolated from all phone calls. And no one cared. I remember, Loreto with the smell of tacos mingled with grilled onions from the hot dog carts and walking around the old church and stopping to play a little kick ball with the barefoot kids. San Quintin was still the Old Mill Hotel and Ensenada still had great hotel rooms for $20 bucks and lobster for a whole lot less and there was that smell of old leather coming from alleys that sold everything from saddles to bullwhips (who used those things anyway?) and huarache sandals to holsters.

And now…

Even being a “tweener” I am already missing these things as I watch marinas, condos, malls and complexes rise from the beaches. Real estate offices and “for sale” signs are popping up faster than you can blink and smiling guys with perfect hair and tans driving shiny Jeep Cherokees will be happy to show you’re your piece of paradise. Half my fishing and diving clients now seem to be asking if I can “hook them up” with real estate deals. I’ve seen some of them put down payments on places by simply writing a check or putting it on American Express over a quick weekend of fishing.

Real estate is the new boom and it’s a window that everyone seems to be exploiting. One of the agents for a gigantic project in San Felipe tells me they bring in prospective clients by the busloads on fully-paid weekend junkets to see their “next tropical homesite” complete with community swimming pools; beach access and grid-like lots set out like any suburb in Americana.

In the span of a year, I saw beachfront property near me, quadruple in price. Some other property I found had already been sold 3 times in the span of 3 years, surely at a profit . These aren’t little lots either. These are rancho-sized chunks of the planet. At the new marina in La Paz, condos well-over the half-million dollar mark were sold about as fast as an artist could put a rendering on a real estate brochure. Marinas with more than 300 slips are only months from being completed and many of these slips aren’t for pangas. It seems more than 1/3 of the marina slips are for boats “in excess of 100 feet or longer.” Chew on that one for a moment.

Latte coffee shops; fast food; multi-plex theaters and shopping malls with “food courts” are being built as you read this. I mean, the new market in La Paz has a bakery, juice bar, gourmet olive bar and cheese bar! I remember the day when I would trade some of my caught fish for goat cheese from a ranchero. That same ranchero’s kids now regularly stay indoors playing with their Nintendos.

I’m actually writing this sitting at a small restaurant at Ensenada de Los Muertos. (The pirate in me still prevents me from calling it “Bahia de Los Suenos”). I’m watching a local captain named Old Manuel paddle an old chipped fiberglass boat that can’t be more than 6 feet long. A single wave would swamp him. He looks like a caricature…a cartoon drawing. His boat is the size of a kid’s plastic pool. Manuel looks right out of central casting from Hemingway’s “Old Man and the Sea.” He has one paddle that he uses like a canoe paddle.

Even from here, I can see the stubbled beard that never seems to get longer and never gets cut. His face is lined and textured like a basketball from decades in the sun. Like the tattered straw hat on his head and the gnarled calloused hands I’ve seen close-up on occasion, it all just exists. Manuel fishes for a living and with his single rod and corroded reel the guy catches fish. He paddles out to a spot and catches fish. I have even seen panga skippers key on where Manuel fishes.

As I watch him now paddle in near the beach, with his soiled pants rolled up to his knees and untucked long sleeve shirt common to so many of these beach-farers, I think to myself, “Manuel knew Steinbeck. He knew Cannon and Hoctor and maybe even Kira. If not personally, he knew the times.” And as I watch him pull in with a few nice yellowtail and pargo, I see him go from panga to panga asking for fish scraps for bait or unused sardines no doubt to fry up. Subsistence existence at it’s best.

I wonder what all this development means to him.

Does he know that the beach he is now walking on is worth over a million dollars? Does he know that the smiling perfectly-suntanned guy in the AFTCO fishing shirt (these guys NEVER fish) leading the couple around the beach asking to take a photo of Manuel is a real estate agent? Does he know that if he told them he lives just up the beach on about 300 feet of beachfront in an old shanty under a palm tree, they’d probably give him more money than he would see in his lifetime? I don’t think he really cares. But I wish he did.

I wish a lot of these viejos and vagabundos cared. And that they’d just keep quiet about it. It won’t happen, but I can hope as I sit here typing from a bar that didn’t exist 3 years ago on a spot that pirates, banditos, conquistadores and natives used to walk. And their ghosts still call it “Ensenada de Los Muertos.”

CHECKPOINT ADVENTURE – Published January 2005 – Western Outdoors Magazine Baja Backbeat

We had just come up off the beach and I was driving the shuttle back to town with a van load of happy-tired anglers who had just spent a day on pangas being humbled by too many big dorado. The single-lane road was bumpy and the van rattled and shook as is often the case with any vehicles in Mexico traveling on shocks never meant for the Baja outback. I was dusty and blood-covered myself from guiding and cleaning fish but smiling broadly as the raucous boisterous, and often “blue-tinted” conversation behind me reflected a good day on the water. Lots of laughs.

One of my clients had come down with his wife, which is not uncommon and usually I’m a little un-easy when the fishing conversation gets a little loud and salty around the ladies, but Marcie was right in on it and could hold her own with the boys. In fact, she could more than hang.

She was a successful marine biologist, but (what a resume!) had spent her early summers and a deckhand and working galley on S. Cal sportboats and then worked her way through college as a waitress at Hooters. So, believe me, she could walk the walk and talk the talk from football to fishing. On top of it, this tall girl-next-door blonde insisted on wearing a bright eye-popping orange thong bikini while fishing that had other boats trolling near she and her husband all day long. The captains really got a kick of posing with her on the beach holding fish and she was more than accommodating striking model-like poses with each of them.

But, nothing quite puts the brakes on travel in Mexico like running into the surprise military road blocks that can happen anywhere. You know how you feel when a black-and-white zooms up behind you with its lights flashing on a U.S. highway. Well, imagine being pulled to a stop by a military officer in fatigues waving a pistol and half-a-dozen young soldiers sporting the latest in M-16’s. I pulled around a curve and there they were.

These guys are just doing their jobs looking for guns and weapons, but it’s never comfortable being stopped. I’m pretty used to it and my Spanish gets me by, but for most Americans, normall secure in their privacy, it’s the equivalent of being taken in for an IRS audit or worse!

“De donde vienen?” (Where are you coming from?) asked the officer as I stepped out of the van. I explained that I had a group of fishermen and was taking them back to town.

“Perdon, Senor, pero estamos checando por drogas y armas, por favor.” (Excuse me but I’m sorry we’re just checking for drugs and guns.) I said of course and told everyone to just step out’ve the van for the routine check. Nervously eyeing the “kids” with the automatic rifles, everyone got out. Most were trying to smile. Everyone piled out…one grimy, sweaty fisherman after the other.

So did Marcie as one long leg then another unfolded out of the back along with that orange thong bathing suit and her blonde hair. “Hola amigos!” She smiled and waved at the officer and soldiers who literally stepped back as I watched eyes-go-wide and guns suddenly dissolve into mouth agape stares.

Then, just like the young boys/men they were, imagine a whole squad of soldier trying not to giggle, almost embarrassingly. It was like the prom queen suddenly smiling to you in the hallway and noticing that you existed. Understand that many of the soldiers are just country boys conscripted into the army and then sent out on duty like these young kids. I could almost hear a collective Mexican “aw shucks, ma’am” coming from the fatigue-dressed “combat team.”

The officer cleared his throat and awkwardly said it was his duty now to search the vehicle. But he flashed the biggest smile at Marcie and seemed to keep one eye constantly on her even as he cursively looked around the back of the van trying so very hard to act “official.” Our group, with Marcie in the lead, followed him around still a bit nervous as anyone would when they are being “inspected.”

Then, we heard a giggle which made the officer look up. Where was his squad? They were nowhere to be found. He stood up straight and heard another giggle making us all look up and around. A movement to the right caught our eye and we could see several heads poking from behind a huge saguaro cactus each attached to a big grin. Lined up rigidly behind the cactus in single file so as not to be seen, these young soldiers were obviously looking at Marcie…each head at a different level, but trying hard to appear as one line behind the giant cactus like young high-schoolers who suddenly found out that they could see into the girl’s locker room!

Embarrassed, the officer yelled “Attencion!” and marched his squad out from behind the cactus shaking his head and apologizing to me, the clients and the “senorita bonita” for the actions of his soldiers. Apparently, they were newly recruited and this was their first check-point assignment. They almost bumped into each other trying to form rank, but never taking their eyes off the smling blonde gringa. He made a point of apologizing to Marcie who took it all in stride and said she would like to take a photo with “all the boys!”

That got ‘em! In fact, we lined them all up. Dusted them all off and watched them all push and shove as to who would get to be closest to Marcie for the photo. Of course, it was the officer who had the largest grin of all. A full 6 inches shorter than her, he, of course, got the official “spot” next to the senorita.

Piled back into the vans, we were wished well and shoved off down the road with just another great adventure story to add to the happy hour that evening. As Fred Hoctor used to say, “Baja-ha-ha.” Just another day in paradise.

TRASH FISH FEASTS – Published July 2005 – Western Outdoor News

DIA DE LOS PADRES – Published June 2005 – Western Outdoor News

“I’m bit!”
“Hot rail!”
“Let him into the corner!”
“Throw bait, there’s another boiler!”

The cacophony of voices; the bustle on the deck; the adrenaline and sheer electricity of the moment shot through the boat and the air sizzled with tightlines; shuffling feet; and that special energy so many of us know when the bite is on and rods go bendo. This time, in fact, it was just last week, I was about 2 miles off Punta Coyote not too far from La Paz playing deckhand on a 33’ Blackfin appropriately name “Black Magic.” I had my hands full as we had spotted 3 finning striped marlin. I had already baited one while driving the boat with one hand and handed the rod to my anxious fisherman while Captain Manny had fired another bait into the stripers and had another ready to go.

As line zipped off the first rod and the marlin lit into his first blue neon jump, the kinetics of the moment were inescapable. However, all that shouting and running around wasn’t being done by a group of grizzly Baja-rat anglers. Indeed, my “pescadores” were 5 youngsters ranging from 9 – 13 years old and I couldn’t help by give a Cheshire grin as my “training and instruction” had them moving like vets not to mention the choice “phrases” I had taught them.

“Tight lines and give him the high stick!” Mike shouted to T.J. on the rod
“You gotta lift that stick and wind down easy!” added Alex.
“ I think he’s only lip hooked!” observed Marcus
“Let him into the corner!” encouraged Mike again as he pulled his pal down the rail into the corner and the fish surged to port. (I think there’s a future deckhand pinhead in the making).
“You rock, dude!” said T.J. as he gamely handed the rod to Morgan in a tag-team effort.

They say that if you can get a kid into fishing before he’s 10 you’ll have him hooked for the rest of his life before other distractions can pull him away. I’ve known these kids for a few years now and I think they’re pretty bent in more ways than one. If you ever want to put some juice into any activity, show it to a kid. It’s like going to Disneyland. You can get bored with Mickey after so many outings, but bring some kid who has never been there before and watch ‘em get lit and hopefully you will too. You see it from a whole different angle. They say “The children will teach the teacher.”

Same thing with fishing. Bringing kids fishing never fails to get me going again, especially in Baja. It’s not just the fishing. It’s the whole experience. Just before we hooked the marlin, a routine sighting of a pod of dolphins had the boys gleefully running around the deck and an every-day experience like that had both myself and Captain Manny grinning broadly. Smiling kids on a boat is a pretty infectious thing. Like a banjo playing. You can’t help but smile. We didn’t yet have a fish on the boards, but it felt like if we did nothing else that day, just the dolphin sightings would have been a topper.

Every year this group of kids comes down with their dads and uncles and on their last day, I get the 5 youngest as my “team” and we compete against all the old dudes. We beat them most of the time too and have a blast.

We ended up hooking 2 marlin that day and a dorado. One of the fish took the boys almost 2 hours to get to leader. As we throttled back to La Paz later in the afternoon, I saw 5 very exhausted little boys passed out on every deck cushion and stateroom bunk. I couldn’t help but wonder if these kids realized just how lucky they were. As one of the dad’s said to me later, “I’d have killed to go on a trip like this when I was their age and they get to do this every year. In about 20 years, I’m going to ask for payback because I’m going to make my kid bring me as an old man down here and make him take care of me!” Amen to that.

Baja is a very special place. You can be a pirate and an explorer; conquistador or a bandito, cave-dwelling native chieftain or bone-digging archeologist. Tom Sawyer wears a sombrero here. Huck Finn pilots a Bertram ’31 instead of a plank raft. It was made for little boys no matter what age they are and even moreso, for little boys and their dads.

I haven’t been lucky enough to have any of my own and am still trying to grow up myself, but I do very much enjoy having other little boys come down with their dads. I love having my own dad come down. Rites of passage are what it’s all about. Little boys get taken care of by their dads. Hopefully, in time, dads get taken care of in return.

My own dad is sure capable of tying his own hooks, but he feigns not being able to see the line or make sure I pack the ice chest “just so.” I don’t mind doing it and remember the days he bought the hot dogs and brought the Velveeta cheese to a little kid who wouldn’t stop throwing rocks into the water and scaring all the fish that turned into a Baja rat himself.

It’s Dia de Los Padres here in Mexico this weekend and by the time you’re reading this, hopefully, you’ll have had a great Father’s Day weekend wherever you are. I miss my dad and can’t spend the weekend with him as we’re deep into the season right now, but dad rides the boat with me everyday.

I hope your dad rides with you as well and if you are a dad, you know how special it is to have the time with your kids because these are the times they’ll remember you by. Many hot rails to all you little boys no matter what age and cheers to all of us who remain little boys at heart. Vaya bien!

That’s my story..
Jonathan

CABO PULMO – Published June ’05 – Western Outdoor News