In the morning we shook off the cobwebs from an evening watching reruns of Boston Legal, and headed for the island of Los Isolotes to dive with the seals. The island is picture postcard perfect — perhaps one of the most artistic rock outcroppings I have seen. Lisa and Jim jumped into the water while I drifted RD off the island in 50 to 60 foot depths. Lisa, being the youngest, the boldest and the strongest swimmer among us spent the next two hours playing with the seals and learning which ones she could befriend and which warned her away. She returns chattering with her childlike enthusiasm overflowing! Her joie de vivre is boundless, and I wish it would rub off on me! Later Jim commanded the mother ship, and I got to snorkel and glimpse a world richer in life than my own. One I feel an affinity for, but would otherwise not know existed and It is a world I feel a natural affinity for, but I have adapted and no longer equipped to survive in.
In the early afternoon we returned to the cove of our choice — Ensenada Grande (Big Cove)– for two important reasons: (1) Lisa worked to prepare a special Thanksgiving meal, and (2) we’re hearing weather talk of a blow coming Friday and Saturday.
Our Thanksgiving Meal:
Lisa kept us out of “her kitchen” while she prepared our Thanksgiving feast. It wasn’t the cornucopia of Thanksgiving meals I remember from my childhood home. However given the modest scale we have become accustomed to living on board RD (total length 43 feet, one fresh water rinse every other day, beam 13 feet, small galley, etc.) our saloon table was overflowing with chicken and carrots and apples and salad. Our footprint is small, but our proportions are large, and we are living the abundance as well as any American today.
RD swung slowly during our meal, as if to add to the spirit of the day by providing an unparalleled view of the volcanic terrain along our nearby shore. However, to the best of my recollection it is my first Thanksgiving with a panoramic waterfront view. My joy is laced with memories about family Thanksgivings past that will not return and my inability to reach out to them via phone or email.
The pending storm is a different matter. This evening the seas are calm and there is no wind. But we are new in this part of the world and inexperienced at reading the weather.
This is compounded by our lack of weather technology to receive Gribb files (a popular form of receiving a weather fax) or SSB radio. However we have made all the preparations we can. We are in a safe gunkhole, , and we expect to ride out any blow on the hook. The only word we have is that it is going to blow Friday and Saturday and clear out on Sunday. It’s woefully less precise than the service that NOAA weather provides in the U.S.
After dinner Lisa goes on her predictable neighborhood exploration. She organizes a dinghy trip to the nearby beach and invites Jim to accompany her. Maybe she senses my need for some along time? As expected she ended the evening on the largest yacht in the harbor and returns to greet me with the excitement of her latest adventure.
Thanksgiving in Mexico seemed an anachronism. Nevertheless today we have lived in gratitude.