Tuesday April 15th
While we were out on the beach in San Roque yesterday, Shari came riding up along the shoreline on her horse with the two dogs clipping at its heals. She had ridden over from Asunción and Juan was pulling up in his truck.
They told us they were going to be staying in the Rustic Cabin for the week to get away from the hustle and bustle of Asunción. You know, the other village they have a house in that maybe has a population of 3,000 if every house and boat along the shore was full.....********
We all sat around talking and Shari asked if I would be interested in going
Abalone Fishing with Juan? Why not, I'm always game to try something different. And how could I say no when I don't even know what an Abalone is or how you fish for them?
Juan works for a Co-Op Fishing Company here in Asunción that most of the town is employed by. He sat describing how they fish for these giant mollusks that are making a big comeback now that the Co-Op is protecting them. Apparently at one time, they were over fished and their numbers were in harms way of becoming depleted for good. The Co-Op now has security patrols and radar stations along the shoreline to make sure that commercial fishing boats don't come in and over fish the delicacy that is so sought after.
When I said I had never seen Abalone offered on the shelf and asked how you even eat it? They told me that you buy it in a can, and Juan and Shari explained that it's more pricey than Caviar and usually in the specialty, high-end shops. That explains why I had never seen it before.
I guess the tender meat sells for $100 a kilo and most of it is shipped to Europe or the Orient where it is in high demand in very high end restaurants.
So after they told me all this, I was ready to go fishing this morning. Really I wouldn't do anything but ride along in the boat with Juan and his two other fishing partners. The set-up consists of a 3 man team with one man acting as the diver who finds the abalone and puts them in a netted bag that he carries with him to the bottom.
The two other team members stay in the boat the whole time. Juan is the boat operator and makes sure the boat isn't going to get smashed by the rocks along the shore. The other man in the boat is the Air-Handler and feeds the breathing hose to the diver that is supplied with air from a compressor on the boat. This guy also hauls up the full nets when the diver signals that his bag is full.
The Air-handler will weight a new bag, throw it to the diver who will swap the empty bag for the full one. While the diver goes back to work finding more abalone along the bottom of the ocean floor, this 2nd fisherman is hauling up the full bag and counting out the abalone. There is a limit on how many they can collect per day. There is also a limit on how small the abalone can be in order to be collected.
Before the sun was even up, I was standing in the protected cove with 20 other fisherman waiting for our Panga to float up and pick us up. Talk about being the odd man out. Here I am wearing some technical clothing, my knit hat and had running shoes on and a camera bag standing on the shoreline.
Milling around me is a large group of Mexican fisherman dressed like you'd expect any fisherman to be dressed. Some had thigh high rubber boots, others had hip waders or heavy duty slickers. The divers in each group were suiting up in their thick wet suits and most were looking at this little gringo with his big camera like he was an alien. It didn't help that I spoke no Spanish so I had no idea what they were all saying about me? First thing I'm going to do when I get home is take a Spanish language class.
So when Juan walked up and said "
Good Morning" I was relieved to see someone who spoke English and could explain to this group why I was here. He looked at my shoes and let me know that I was probably going to get a bit wet. I knew that was a requirement, but I didn't want to be wearing Sandals or flip-flops since the cool morning air was already making my teeth chatter.
So when our Panga pulled up, I walked into the water knee deep right beside Juan and jumped into our boat that would ferry us to his boat which was moored in the cove. Juan introduced me to Hector, the air-handler who would stay in the boat with us for the rest of the day, and Martin, the diver who would be braving the bottom of the sea floor today.
We all got onto Juan's Panga, and found a place to stand while he motored out to their fishing locations. About 20 minutes later, we pulled up to a rocky shoreline where a few of the other pangas were already bobbing around in the rough waters.
I was a tad concerned when Juan kept motoring right up to within 50' of the crashing surf. I laughed to myself and was glad that Cindy wasn't with me right now or she would have been screaming that we were way too close for comfort. But I figured this is what they do for a living, so something tells me they know what they are doing
As the diver strapped on his weight belt and made the sign of the cross with his diving knife, he jumped overboard and Hector started up the compressor. As Juan killed the boat motor and picked up a set of 10' long wooden oars, he began paddling to keep us clear of the thunderous waves that were crashing all around us, covering the boat with a nice salty spray.
I was surprised that within 20 minutes the diver was tugging on his line and Hector was tossing out an empty bag and hauling up the full sack. He heaved this huge bag over the side and went to work filling the plastic crates that were on the floor of the Panga.
I'm not one to eat much fish, and seeing what these big crusty things looked like up close, basically a monstrous snail looking specimen, I would never pay a dime to eat one, I don't care how good they taste. If one was on the small side, Hector would pick up his measuring stick and make sure they werent taking anything that was under the legal limit.
Once his crate was full, he would go to work to retie the net, all the while keeping an eye on the divers hose in the water to make sure he had enough slack and the hose wasn't getting tangled up in anything.
Looking around us, there were multiple Pangas with divers coming in and out of them and waves never ceasing to stop pounding the rugged shoreline. I was awestruck on how much work this was and how meticulous the fisherman were to never get too close to the shoreline, yet maneuver around in the rough surf like they were standing on solid ground.
I'll admit that I usually get sea sick when it comes to rough water, but maybe because the past few months of Baja fishing, my body is starting to get some sea legs about it. And I would never let myself, this little Gringo, get sick in front of these seasoned fisherman. That would just be too embarrassing. So I breathed deep and told myself I was fine, no matter how bad the surf was.
When we had pulled away from shore, it was around 7:30am, and by 9:30 we were headed back to San Roque with our days limit of 130 Blue Abalone and 30 Yellow. I guess the Yellow are a more rare species and fetch a higher dollar at market, but are also limited on how many they can collect per season.
We had seen numerous seals bobbing their heads out of the water along with a few dolphins who had swam past in search of their own morning meal. Two hours of hard work, and they were done for the day. That's my kinda job.
Once we pulled the boat back up to San Roque, there was a truck waiting to collect the days catch, before the fisherman were headed for home. I sat on the front porch of the cabin with Shari and Juan and toasted a cerveza to a good days work on the water. Really all I did was watch, but how can you turn down an ice cold beer with some new friends? Even if it is only 10 in the morning...LOL It's noon somewhere isn't it?
This is one of my favorite shots of the day. Look at the size of the wave that 20' boat is riding up! Our Panga was a bit closer to the shore so the wave was a bit steeper when it had got to us! Abalone Fishing was some of the wildest type of fishing I've done so far and all I did was sit in the boat for a few hours!
Now how can the day be topped after that morning filled with excitement? Keep reading and you'll see. Abalone Gallery can be seen
here.
Well when I got back to the camper, Cindy had spent the morning cleaning the endless supply of sand out of everything, and had even shook the sheets out! We walked into town so I could take a few minutes to upload some stuff at the internet cafe while Cindy did some shopping at the local market.
We got back to the camper and were relaxing in bed with our books, when we heard a knock on the door. In broken English, an older Mexican man was saying "
Anyone home?"
I jumped up and said "
How can I help you?"
He introduced himself as Ramón and asked "
Are you enjoying your stay here on the beach?" I was thinking it was the guy who owned the property we were parked on, because just this morning Shari had asked if the guy had come down and said anything to us. She said that "
Every now and then, the guy would get ornery and kick people off his beach front parking spot. But if he hadn't come by yet, then you have nothing to worry about."
So this was the first thing that popped into my head. Ramón asked if I needed a beer as he was holding onto a Tecate. I let him know that I was fine and I had a fridge full of Coronas. That was my first mistake.
He proceeded to plop himself down in one of our beach chairs and started talking to me like we were old friends. Cindy had come out by now and introduced herself. We all sat around talking for a few minutes and the young Mexican man that was with Ramón was looking at him like he wanted to get going. Ramón would just say "
Cool down, these are nice people. Sit, talk with us." But his young friend spoke no English and just stood off to the side in his truck.
After about a half hour, Ramón asked me, "
Did you say you have Corona?" I said "
I did" and he asked if he could have one. I went inside and Cindy grabbed me saying "
Ok, this is sort of weird, who is this guy and why is he just sitting here like he knows us?" I just shrugged and said "I think the old man is drunk and just likes to talk about himself."
Working in a bar for so long, I'm an expert at putting up with drunken people, but Cindy was getting a bit nervous, so she came outside and said "
Kevin was supposed to come over for dinner, I'm going to go see if he's ready."
Ramón asked me who Kevin was to which I questioned "
If you lived here for so long, why don't you know Kevin, the big American who lives right next door?" Ramón just said "
I do not know this Kevin you speak of, so I will wait and see who he is!" He asked me if he could go inside and use the bathroom, and I just sort of blew it off saying "
Nah, just go outside" I didn't really want him in my camper but didn't like the fact that he just stood beside the camper to relieve his bladder. But remember Pat, you're in Mexico and this is the way the locals act.
Cindy came back and let us know "
Kevin will be over in a few minutes." Really she had just woke him up from his afternoon siesta and explained what the situation was. He told Cindy he didn't know this man and would be over in a minute to make sure everything was Kosher.
I was starting to get bored with this Ramón, if that was even his name? He had introduced himself to Cindy with a different name, and the drunker he became, the less English he used. He kept talking to me and half the sentence was in English with the other half in Spanish. When I would tell him I couldn't understand anything he was saying, he would just laugh and tell me "
Well you need to learn Spanish then!"
Normally I would just play along, but his friend who had now come over and sat with us, would look at me whenever Ramón wasn't looking and twirl his finger in circles beside his ear for the universal sign that Ramón was crazy. I thought to myself "
Great, we now have the crazy town drunk sitting at our camper and cant get him to leave?" Then this young guys wife showed up and they left, leaving us stuck with Ramón for good!
Finally Kevin walked over and introduced himself and was able to talk with Ramón in Spanish. By this point, he had given up with the English and any communication with him was out of my hands. When he introduced himself to Kevin, he again used a different name, so who knows what his real name was?
It only took one beer before Kevin was through with this guy. He stood up and exclaimed "
Oh Crap, I forgot my phone and Shari was supposed to be calling." He walked back a few seconds later and announced "
Hey Shari called and invited us over for sunset margaritas."
Cindy's head popped out of the door and said "
Margaritas, lets go right now!" This was our escape route. I stood up and said "
Well Ramón, it was great meeting you, but we have to go!"
He thanked us for our hospitality and walked off. Cindy and I just sort of laughed and said "
Thank God for Kevin!" Two seconds later, Kevin pulls up and who's in his passenger seat but Ramón? ****** happened here?
Kevin got out of his truck and says "
Ok, here's the deal, he walked over to my house and asked if I could give him a ride home. We're going to drop the guy off and we'll be through with him."
So Cindy and I crawl into the back of Kevin's pick-up truck bed while Ramón and Kevin get in the cab. We couldn't hear what they were saying, but we were both laughing the whole ride because Kevin kept shaking his head and shaking the guys hand. Finally the guy got out and said "
Goodbye" to us, we both waved and Kevin drove off. Wheew! We had gotten ride of him!
We circled back around to our camper and Cindy made us all a nice big dinner while we laughed about our days ordeal. You just never know who's going to come knocking on your door here in Mexico.
