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Baja Bernie
`Normal` Nomad Correspondent
Posts: 2962
Registered: 8-31-2003
Location: Sunset Beach
Member Is Offline
Mood: Just dancing through life
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Extremely (no simply) well said.
Thanks
[Edited on 2-11-2006 by Baja Bernie]
My smidgen of a claim to fame is that I have had so many really good friends. By Bernie Swaim December 2007
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eetdrt88
Senior Nomad
Posts: 986
Registered: 2-20-2005
Location: Az/Ca/Baja
Member Is Offline
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Graham certainly has a way with words,I think he's describing the way alot of us feel on some of those deserted baja beaches 
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Pompano
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8194
Registered: 11-14-2004
Location: Bay of Conception and Up North
Member Is Offline
Mood: Optimistic
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He's into the Baja Feeling...
his fellow island dweller.....kindred spirit of many a solitary panga fisherman.
I do what the voices in my tackle box tell me.
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Bud
Junior Nomad
Posts: 33
Registered: 12-15-2005
Member Is Offline
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I've done the entire west side of that island in my puny 12' Valco. Including both ends. Is that Rafugio he's staying at? That place is very nice.
Funny he should mention his experiences 20 years ago while I'm reading about them. Good luck to him. I envy him today.
Bud
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Keri
Super Nomad
Posts: 1393
Registered: 10-31-2002
Location: La Mision, Baja Norte
Member Is Offline
Mood: muy contento
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Thanks David for posting Grahams updates
Thanks Graham for letting us in on your wonderful Baja Feelings. You paint a pretty picture, k
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Hook
Elite Nomad
Posts: 9006
Registered: 3-13-2004
Location: Sonora
Member Is Offline
Mood: Inquisitive
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His campo
has been reported to be about the middle of the island on the west coast. An area called Humbug Bay.
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ursidae69
Nomad
Posts: 275
Registered: 2-22-2004
Location: Youngsville, NM
Member Is Offline
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| Quote: | Originally posted by eetdrt88
Graham certainly has a way with words,I think he's describing the way alot of us feel on some of those deserted baja beaches
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I agree, I wish I could maroon myself for longer periods of time. Maybe someday...
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capt. mike
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8085
Registered: 11-26-2002
Location: Bat Cave
Member Is Offline
Mood: Sling time!
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10 days without a beer?? what madness! is there no civility on that island?
could never do that, the man must be a shaman.
formerly Ordained in Rev. Ewing\'s Church by Mail - busted on tax fraud.......
Now joined L. Ron Hoover\'s church of Appliantology
\"Remember there is a big difference between kneeling down and bending over....\"
www.facebook.com/michael.l.goering |
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Bob and Susan
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8807
Registered: 8-20-2003
Location: Mulege BCS on the BAY
Member Is Offline
Mood: Full Time Residents
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That "RETRIEVER" can sure swim
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bajaandy
Senior Nomad
Posts: 769
Registered: 2-7-2004
Location: North County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Adventurous
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Thanks for posting the update DK. I don't care who's adventure it is, I just love to read about ANY adventures in Baja.
subvert the dominant paradigm
"If you travel with a man, you must either fall out with him or make him your good friend."
JBL Noel
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Oso
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 2637
Registered: 8-29-2003
Location: on da border
Member Is Offline
Mood: wait and see
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Aha! That's what it took. Lunch is on, Graham. This boy weighed 97 #, measured 9',1". Taken at Turkey Creek, near Burgaw, NC.
[Edited on 2-12-2006 by Oso]
[Edited on 2-12-2006 by Oso]
All my childhood I wanted to be older. Now I\'m older and this chitn sucks.
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Tucker
Senior Nomad
Posts: 664
Registered: 10-31-2002
Location: El Centenario, BCS
Member Is Offline
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Oso, I hope the guy didn't get bitten. Rule of thumb : after you kill it, take it's head off immediately. That one looks like it's still
contracting. Twentyfive years of working in the woods I never saw one half that large.
\"I think it would be a good idea.\"
-- Mahatma Gandhi, when asked what he thought of Western civilization
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64545
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Graham Photos
Here's a couple of better photos of Graham on the island...
The first picture is taken by Mike Essary...
[Edited on 2-14-2006 by David K]
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64545
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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and this picture by Lennart Waje, from Sweden...
I had the photo credits reversed prviously... Thanks to Bonni for reading Nomad and letting me know it was different than the email credit that said
the first photo was from Lennart.
[Edited on 2-14-2006 by David K]
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64545
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Update from Graham... Moved to new location!
Graham's Update:
Emailed from Bonni on March 9, 2006 :
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thursday, February 9 was the day my cozy month-long routine of exploring, beachcombing, and looking at life through various lenses came to a sudden
end.
I was climbing north into the mountains when I noticed two pangas racing purposefully towards my campsite in Humbug Bay. I dashed the two miles back
and found myself dripping sweat in the presence of about seven rather rough-looking pangueros. A radio was putting forth lively Mexican music and the
air was full of the sweet smells of marijuana and carne asada.
With the whole of Guardian Angel Island to chose from they had elected to set up their camp right beside my tent and tarp-covered possessions. One of
them held what looked like a flame thrower. There was a sudden loud whoosh and a bush beside their "kitchen" burst into flames. The conscious ones
laughed and coughed through smoke irritated throats. I must have looked as dubious and dumbfounded as I felt.
They explained that they were from mainland Mexico, and I'd have their company for four days "mas o menos." They were night diving for lobsters,
clams, sea cucumbers and such.
They actually turned out to be good hospitable companions. I tried going with the flow but witnessing my clean, well-ordered campsite degenerating
into a typical temporary fishcamp, and finding myself totally out of sync with neighbors working all night and then sleeping and smoking all day, I
knew the time had come to move on. The need to move became urgent when two more pangas pulled in and the smells got even sweeter.
One of the pangueros agreed to take me to the beautiful sheltered bay of Este Ton, about 9 miles south. The kindly fishermen gave me 5 gallons of
water and promised to drop off any extra they had on their way back to the mainland. Even so, as I said my goodbyes I had mixed feelings about leaving
my base for the previous month.
Within forty minutes I was surveying the splendid anchorage of Este Ton, probably the finest on the west coast of Isla Angel de la Guarda. Ringed by
high, colorful mountains it was seemingly protected from every direction except south.
Before leaving me there alone, one of the fishermen showed me where he had happened upon a sleeping feral cat which viciously attacked him when it
woke. He had to fend it off with an oar. "It was black and hairy with strange round eyes," he said.
It was too windy to put up my tent. In spite of the gusting northwest wind sounding like a thousand flamethrowers, I tried kayaking inside the bay and
found the paddle nearly ripped from my hands as I struggled to keep from being blown out into an increasingly wild and dangerous sea. Even on the
beach, the wind threatened to lift and roll the kayak. I was seeing Este Ton at its worst. The protection it offered was relative.
Among the items I'd left stacked on the beach was a large foam pad bungeed to one of my heavier boxes. A pair of ravens had found that in my absence
and nearly pecked it apart. With some difficulty I finally made my campsite in the mouth of a little canyon.
That night the wind shifted and came blasting from the northeast down the canyon threatening to rip my tent to shreds. I didn't sleep too well and had
plenty of time to wonder about the smartness of my move. At least it was warm. The temperature never dropped below the mid-sixties.
Next morning with the wind moderating, and better able to appreciate the stunning beauty all around, I set off for an exploratory hike. Before I had
gone fifty yards I slid to an urgent stop, my leading foot was inches from a five-foot-long pinkish rattlesnake. As it was so close to my camp I had
no choice, I had to kill it. A single rock throw smashed its neck immediately behind its head.
After that I walked very slowly, my darting eyes checking behind every rock and under every bush. Kayaking seemed a better way to explore. But such
was my mood even that seemed threatening -- beneath the steep cliffs the water was agitated and dark, and hidden rocks and reefs abounded.
No point lamenting the move; no way back; I busied myself making the most of it. I cleaned up the beach and started to collect driftwood, rope, pieces
of fishing net, and other useful stuff. Needing shade, I cut down some agave stalks and began making a sturdy framework for a little structure that I
could cover with the netting.
Wrapped in my project, soon the sun was shining, the wind was gentle, and Este Ton began to feel more like home. Sea lions, dolphins, and whales were
never far away. With every hike into the steep hills, and every kayak under the cliffs, and every fun foray to check what the beaches had to offer, I
felt more and more relaxed.
My camp was always "raven-proofed" when I left, but even so, they were adept at finding something to vandalize. One day, their powerful bills poked
their way through my solar shower bag, another day they roughed up my solar battery chargers. Anything left out was likely to be "attacked."
Across the bay a pair of nesting ospreys conducted a constant battle with two and sometimes three ravens; more than once when I was shouting and
gesticulating at our black tormentors the ospreys flew over to launch a joint attack.
I had many new neighbors. There were several giant chuckwallas on the slope above my tent. A belted kingfisher was a regular visitor to my side of the
bay - the first I'd ever seen. Having studied his antics through my binoculars and gotten to "know" him, I looked up one morning when I heard his
cries of distress and was saddened to see the poor kingfisher being chased by a hawk. The hawk dived at it continually. The kingfisher stayed over the
water and dropped into the sea just as the hawk lunged with its talons. The splash seemed to confuse and deter the predator.
For over ten minutes I looked out helpless at the drama; the kingfisher seemed to be weakening; it seemed only a matter of time. but amazingly it was
the hawk that tired first and broke away to land on the rocks. The gallant kingfisher merited his escape. I couldn't help but cheer.
I had seen cat tracks and scat all over the island, but so far I hadn't seen or heard one. At Este Ton , I came across three of them.all dead. And
these hairy beasts were not cute kitties. Grotesque in death, with ugly protruding fangs, they looked like little werewolves. I wondered what had
killed them.
Graham Mackintosh
Bahia de los Angeles
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BOLABOUND
Junior Nomad
Posts: 61
Registered: 1-25-2006
Member Is Offline
Mood: wish I was lost in deep BAJA
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Thanks David for the update.
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Fatboy
Senior Nomad
Posts: 716
Registered: 6-28-2005
Member Is Offline
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Nice to hear more about the 'adventure'. THANKS!
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Bud
Junior Nomad
Posts: 33
Registered: 12-15-2005
Member Is Offline
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Thanks David. I wonder if this big storm coming up this weekend is going to get down that far?
Bud
[Edited on 3-10-2006 by Bud]
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Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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I've just been sent a picture of Graham's camp...
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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gringorio
Senior Nomad
Posts: 812
Registered: 4-10-2004
Location: Tucson, Arizona
Member Is Offline
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killing rattlesnakes again
"Next morning with the wind moderating, and better able to appreciate the stunning beauty all around, I set off for an exploratory hike. Before I had
gone fifty yards I slid to an urgent stop, my leading foot was inches from a five-foot-long pinkish rattlesnake. As it was so close to my camp I had
no choice, I had to kill it. A single rock throw smashed its neck immediately behind its head." - G.M.
This is just plain wrong. How can Graham have such little respect for wildlife? He claims to have had no choice, but he had plenty of choices that
would not have involved killing the rattlesnake. The first was to leave the rattlesnake alone. The second was to use a long stick and move it well
away from his camp. He has a better chance of being stung by a scorpion than to be bitten by a rattlesnake. His paranoid attitude toward
rattlesnakes has been apparent in all his writings. I would think that someone with so much experience in the desert would have a better
understanding and *respect* for desert animals.
From the description, the rattlesnake sounds like it was a Crotalus ruber, a Red Diamond Rattlesnake. Isla Angel de la Guarda is part of the
Islas del Golfo de California Biosphere Reserve, an ecologically unique and important group of islands. Populations of animals on islands are more
susceptible to extinction for many reasons: Limited resources, competition for resources, changing abundance of prey populations, and of course,
stochastic events like people killing every snake they see.
It seems to me that, while what Graham is doing is very interesting, in the long run his attitude is having a negative effect on the island and its
animals.
gringorio
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