Where does time go? Seven months have whizzed by. It’s been a pretty low key travel year so far – Winter in Indian Wells in Southern California, spring in Charleston, South Carolina and now summer in Northern Nevada.
However, we’ve been so busy there’s often no time to breathe (except when in yoga).
If you recall we sold our Baja house three ago but retained a parcel that’s now been in escrow for two years. Closing time is slowly approaching – the lawyers needed paperwork signed/delivered and we needed an excuse to leave the country…
So – hello Baja! It’s so exciting to be back.
We rented a car and took the new “bypass” road that runs from the pay road near the Los Cabos International Airport into downtown Cabo and then 4 miles north to the Cabo San Lucas International Airport to pick up our friend Clint who flew in from Puerto Vallarta. I wasn’t familiar with it but Bill flew there on private planes many years ago. It’s small and has only one commercial carrier that only flies domestically. Not sure why International is in its title. Perhaps it suffers from Napoleon complex.
Did I mention it was so good to be back?
We drove the corridor back to SJD to pick up Barb – stopping for photos, coconut in lime juice, dominos, and alcohol.
Palmas sponsored the first all women’s fishing tournament and we arrived on its last day. It was surprising yet exciting to see tables full of women at dinner. Apparently, the seas had been rough and the fish scarce but good times were had by all. They were already planning for next year’s tournament. Normally, fishing season is all about middle-aged, gray-haired, potbellied men. (click on photos to enlarge)
The sunrises, sunsets and moonrises were stunning.
Off to Clint and Barb’s old family house to see an even less cared for pool. Obviously no chlorine there! When the owners are away…. its the Baja way.
Mañana doesn’t mean tomorrow. It means just not today!
Lastly, we stayed in old town San Jose del Cabo. The quaintness, walkability and dining options make it a super special place to be.
In about 1948 the eldest brother Yue Ming (now 86) and following thereafter the youngest brother Yue Chuan (now 79) learned the ways of the Cormorant fisherman.
An ancient fishing technique where cormorant birds are trained to dive for fish and return their catch to their master’s raft. If not for the snare tied around the bird’s neck – the cormorant would swallow it’s catch whole.
The brothers lived on a houseboat until 1978 at which time the local government gave fishermen land. They built a home on this property and still live in it today. It is modest, reachable only by boat and meals are cooked over campfire.
Fishing was a way of life until the late 1990’s. Unfortunately, Cormorant fishing has become a lost source of income but the art form still remains.  River pollution, motorized boats and electric rod fishing have made it hard for the birds to successfully fish.
Meet Mr. Haung – 61 years old and considered amongst the youngest to know the ancient ways of the cormorant fishermen. Sadly, these days a mostly extinct fishing method. River pollution, mass fishing with electrical charges and motorized boats have depleted the fish population.
The raft – long and sturdy.  Mr. Haung splashed the water for effect.  The birds accustomed to the rocking commotion on the raft remain unfazed.
The art of cast net fishing – the large net is meticulously coiled in his left hand while an edge of the net is secured between his teeth and the remainder grasped in he right hand. Winding up like pro golfer, whilst swinging the net, the net is released high into the air. Â The splash – circular in formation – is a testament to his skill.
Bagged a Bream.
