M
Nomad
Posts: 392
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: Laguna Niguel, CA.
Member Is Offline
Mood: looking for joy...
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M's WORST Baja trip (part 2)
I awoke to sounds of gulls screeching, and peeking out my window, I saw two large gulls in a tug of war with an unknown piece of something or other. I
watched for awhile before I realized that the pounding surf I fell asleep too was now replaced by lapping waves. Perfect, tide was in and it was time
to get my little Tinker Toy boat ready.
I rummaged around in my drawers for a change of garb, and came up with a one piece Terri cloth number with a sort of tube top to it so I wouldn't have
tan marks on my shoulders. I cursed myself for forgetting to bring a change of knickers, but I have gone without before, so it was hardly a problem.
I jumped out of Grunt and felt terrific! Blue sky, salt air, going fishing, and I actually felt my lungs were a little clearer. About time, so I lit a
cigarette and started unloading.
For those that have never seen one, a Porta Bote is a folding device, held open by the successful placement of 3 bench seats. This is not as easy as
it seems, and some may have seen some more hilarious attempts on Americas Funniest Videos. It takes a knack learned over trial and error, and not
before considerable bruising and possible consumption of yourself in the bowels of the beast as it firmly folds over you. The advantage to the
creature is that it is unsinkable. The dealer at the Long Beach boat show told me that the Japanese Navy uses them for lifeboats. Well hell, that was
good enough for me, but latter I wondered just how successful those Japanese fellows would be trying to set these things right while their ship was
sinking. No matter, even folded flat these things float, and I bet the Japanese Navy is fine with that.
I pulled her down from the roof and dragged her over the gravel toward the water. I noticed at the top of the cliffs my efforts were being observed by
a lone fellow who seemed pretty interested in what I was doing. I imagine the whole scene to him was pretty amazing, considering I was a girl, in a
monster truck, alone dragging a long flat white thing towards the water. I left him to his observations and went for the boards that would become by
seats.
The first step is to straddle the boat, and while stepping on one side, you lift the top far flap enough to get your foot inside to hold it up. Using
both hands, you pull like hell to get the inside flap up. It SORT of resembles something of a boat at this point, but?. This is the VERY critical
point. If you release pressure on it at all, it will knock your feet out from under you and swallow you whole. In my weakened condition I was grateful
for the watcher above should I need emergency evacuation.
I reached out, grabbed the center seat and slid it into place. Victory! The other two went easily enough and glancing up at the watcher I found his
mouth hanging open in surprise. Obviously, he had never seen a boat like this?.or, perhaps he was shocked at my less than ladylike postures during my
efforts. Whatever, I really didn't care.
I finished off my cold can of spaghetti, and drank another couple cups of totally stale water that had been residing in Grunt the last few weeks. Next
came the motor. My step-father had welded for me a motor mount on the inside of Grunt, and I was pretty happy with it. I could pull the rack out and
hang the motor on it, fill a 5-gallon bucket and run fresh water through my motor. Did in a pinch when a hose wasn't around.
I hoisted the motor over and clamped it on to the back of my little boat. The watcher above kept watching and I kept working.
Next in, I tossed my camera, radio, book, glasses, my pack of sure fire killer, wiggley plastics, a few irons and some bits of green scrubby in case I
ran into any perch. I hauled out my fishfinder, and glory be, the batteries were still good. I hooked up the transponder on my stabilizer flaps, and
tossed the rest of the unit into the bottom of the boat. I looked around for anything else I might need and decided to take the piece of plywood I cut
down to fit over the seats so I could lie down. I tossed in a couple sodas, another can of something or other and then brought out my poles. These
poles are pretty much my trademarks, as I built and wrapped them myself. First thing, they had to be pink. Then, fancy wraps, feathers, lace and any
other obnoxious combination that make them a quick grab on the long row of rods on a long ranger. Those who have been on a long ranger in a hot bite
know EXACTLY the importance of grabbing the right rod with the right string, and of course making sure it is even yours since so many look alike. I
settled on a my hot pink jig stick with black lace and peac-ck feathers, my purple trout rig with inlayed rainbow beads, and a standard can do
anything lavender lace pole with a wrap that took me MONTHS. Satisfied I had all I needed for a luxury day of sun and fishing, I locked Grunt and
headed toward the water. I wasn't worried a wit about Grunt, the fellow last night said he would look after it and tell his family also. I believed
him as I believed others in the past, and I have never had reason to regret.
I pushed my toy boat into the water while Fisher Price playtime music played in my head. I popped my Bob Marley tape in and drove out the annoying
ditty with ' Red Red Wine'. The water was glass, and the tide was high, perfect conditions and I was in heaven. Even my occasional hacking didn't drop
my mood. (Did I remember my smokes?)I massaged my fuel bulb for awhile and getting a grip, gave my little motor a yank. A couple more tries and she
was purring as usual. I pushed out, jumped in and dropped my prop into the water. As I headed out swaying to the beat of Marley, I looked up and saw
the watcher still looking. As I rounded a curve, I looked again, and just saw his arm come up and wave to me as I went out of view. I hoped he saw me
wave back. I headed South. I continued putting in my Porta and scouted out little coves, occasionally I tossed a plastic, half-heartedly since I was
more interested in the view around me. Lord it was glorious, and the sky was clear and so blue. I drifted close to a couple large rocks and could see
small abalone just below the water line. I continued on about another mile or so and went out towards a promising kelp bed. The current was pretty
gentle and the kelp just drifted straight up towards the sun. Down deep, I could see the fish darting around but none that really interested me. I
decided to put a heavy head on a plastic motor oil minnow and send it to the bottom. I yanked it around for a bit and then cranked it back. I got a
hit, and checking the plastic, the tail was nipped but still functional. I sent it down a dozen more times and finally found something that wanted to
play with me. I was using my trout rig with 4lb test. I often do when I want a little more of a challenge. It fought like a yellowtail, and I loosened
my drag so it wouldn't pop my line. We went round and round and I had a grand time until finally worn down, coming up from the depths?.a mackerel. A
smallish one at that. I shook him off my hook thoroughly enjoying myself. When you don't care if you land them, lighten your gear to near zero and
almost any creature becomes a challenge. I moved to the South end of the bed and 'anchored' my boat. Anchoring a Porta Bote means tying down to a
piece of kelp with a bungie cord. I checked my transponder and found it still sucked down on my stabilizer. Turning on my fish finder, I zeroed it out
and slowly watched the bottom come into focus. I saw clouds drift through that were probably minnows, a loud beep signaled a larger fish passing
under. Or not. I was mostly interested in the picture of the bottom and what structures were below me.Happy with my findings, I cranked up Marley and
sent down an iron on my lavender pole. Blue/white is a favorite on a clear day, and within minutes I had a little wiggler on the end. A Sculpin.
Shoot!In my big boat box,not with me, I carry an odd item. A syringe and Lanocain. If ever hit by a stingray, or stung by a Sculpin you could
immediately appreciate the sense of this. I made a new best friend on the Ensenada Clipper one time when a deckhand was poked hard by a Sculpin. He
was in agony, and didn't seem too concerned when he saw me walking towards him with a syringe. I numbed his hand up and he was considerably more
comfortable. Also, I had an occasion to sew my foot up when I laid it open on a busted bottle once down near Loreto. Graham was with me and I thought
he was going to faint.
Anyway, unless I have a deck to stomp a Sculpin, I usually don't like to muck with them especially sans my Lanocain. I grabbed my dykes and tried to
grab the shank of my jig while the little creep was flipping wildly. Carefully, I shook him loose and watched him high tail it toward the bottom.
Enough of the bottom, I brought out my trout rig, tied on a light plastic, laid down across my seats and just flipped that plastic anywhere. The sun
was gently warming, the lapping of the waves, the rocking of the boat, I was soon out cold.
I woke a couple hours later stiff, cold and sunburned. I had enough my first day out and thought of spending the rest of the day finishing my Koontz
novel.
I started my motor and slowly motored back. The wind had picked up and I was freezing. My little Terri cloth outfit sure was no help. As I rounded the
corner back towards the ramp, my heart stopped. The lapping glassy cove was now roaring with breakers. Gone was the narrow edge of sand and only mean
slimy sharp rocks were to be seen. Waves crashed in and only just covered the rocks. I was in real trouble. I never checked my chart, I thought the
tide was on its upswing, but it was going out looking up on the cliffs I noticed my watcher. He brought friends, and they were just watching too.
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JESSE
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3370
Registered: 11-5-2002
Member Is Offline
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Thats a good one, thanks for sharing your story, mine is not that special and its rather short, here it goes.
5 years ago i was living in Cabo, and i had to go up to Tijuana to drive down a VW jetta that i was buying, when i got to Tijuana, the car was
undergoing some repairs and i had to wait a couple of days until the mechanic was finished, the problem was that my girlfriends birthday in cabo was
coming up and i had to be there at all cost, so finally i ended leaving Tijuana at 4am with no sleep whatsoever, and the mechanic offered to drive
down with me if i would pay is bus ticket back, so i agreed, i drove non stop all the way until Guerrero Negro, it got dark and in the middle of the
desert we saw a hitchhiker, so my mechanic co pilot told me to pick him up so i did, everything was fine until like 1 or 2am and going tru Vizcaino,
all of the sudden my friend the mechanic (he was riding on the passenger seat right next to me, i was driving) started to get upset and started to ask
all of these questions at the hitchiker "WHATS YOUR NAME?" WHERE ARE YOU FROM?" WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" but in a really nasty way, so i told him that
what was going on and he procceded to let me know that he tought that the Hitchiker was the DEVIL, can you believe that? the DEVIL himself aparently
was seating in the back seat of the Jetta, anyway the mechanic grabbed a Screwdriver and pointed it at the Hitchhiker, saying to him "If you f******
move i will kill you DEMONIO!!!!!, and i started freaking out in the middle of the night in the Vizcaino desert, after this the mechanic started to
tell me in a hurry that we should stop and levae this poor guy in the middle of the desert at night, so i refuse and told him that what the hell was
goin on, and he kept puching me to drop mr DIABLO in the desert, as i glanced at my rear view mirror, i could se the poor mexican hitchhiker was
terrified at being asked all these questions in such an agressive manner (an of course at being pointed with a long screwdriver), but at the same time
the mechanic kept telling me he was the devil and i started to think that maybe this guy was seeing or feeling something that i did not, well, i
convinced him that we where going to drop him off in santa Rosalia, and as soon as we aw some lights, i stopped and let the guy go, well as it turned
out i drove all the way by myself because i didnt trust the mechanic driing anymore, as i was nearing cabo i started to see cows and stuff that wasnt
there from the lack of sleep, i made it to Cabo, made it to my girlfriends b day, and after a good nights rest, i learned my little helper the Mexican
mechanic, suffered from Szquizofrenia.
If you havent driven the Baja desert at night with the devil in the backseat, you havent had fun at all.
What a ride!!!!!!!!!
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M
Nomad
Posts: 392
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: Laguna Niguel, CA.
Member Is Offline
Mood: looking for joy...
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WOW JESSIE!
What a story, the only 'devils' I ran into in Baja was a pair of drunk americans that thought they would have a bit of sport with me in the middle of
nowhere. I ran into them while on a beach walk at night. I played along with them and seemed agreeable, then claimed I had to go 'water a bush first'.
I HAULED ASS back to Grunt, about a mile away, threw all my crap in the back and peeled out of there! I was so mad I was tempted to go run the
bastards down, but better sense prevailed. Not ONE problem with a local EVER. Leave it to a pair of ugly americans to foul the shores of Baja. M
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M
Nomad
Posts: 392
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: Laguna Niguel, CA.
Member Is Offline
Mood: looking for joy...
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TEST
I once had a tan ass with a brown stripe down it's back.
This 'censor' feature is kinda fun. LOL
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reefrocket
Nomad
Posts: 224
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: Idaho
Member Is Offline
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took me a minute ( not the brightest candle in the stadium here) but I got it.
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