October 16th

Finally out of our tents once the sun was fully up, we went for a morning hike to see our beautiful bay from above, fly a kite, get a real view of how crystal clear the water is and just enjoy our thorny rose for the last time. Back down on the beach though we were soon ready to escape the land of the No-see-ems. We took off in our kayaks, made another Paco Pit stop and were off on another beautiful morning of kayaking. After the first day of muscle burn I was really into it, my muscles didn’t burn nearly as much (I’d been working out like crazy to get ready for this) and it was fun. We hugged the coast most of the time and really enjoyed our views.

Near to our camp zone and lunch quickly approaching we made a small detour into a lagoon. Surrounded by mangrove trees and overlooking pelicans we navigated our way through some sharp turns and close quarters. Kevin and I’s large 2 person kayak had a little trouble with one of the hard turns, but a little push and shove and we made it through.

The lagoon let out into a center pool of sorts, larger than the pathways and still surrounded by the low mangrove trees, which echoed with a pop, pop, pop on all sides of us. It’s a deep sound kind of like that noise you make when you pop your cheek with your finger. It was the sound of clams popping out of the mud just below the water, and it was pretty eerie.

Not far from the lagoon we found what was meant to be our next campsite. We set up a shade tent and relaxed and watched Kevin and Steve play some cutthroat cribbage. After our guides had looked around the camp area a little bit the came back to us with a decision: we could a. put up camp here tonight but we would most likely see more bugs than last night and would have to go into our tents as soon as the sun was down. You see, in looking around there was a standing pool of water not far from where we were sitting and the lagoon of mangrove trees really not much farther away. Bug Central! All of this in addition to the shallow waters in this bay being rather prone to sting ray, it didn’t sound like a fun place.

Our other choice being to pick up (we hadn’t really unpacked much yet) and row a couple more miles to another camp site which was on the tip of the island; and while it would be windy there would be no bugs guaranteed. The vote, 3 to 1 was the move, so we waited for the tide change, watched some more cribbage, had a happy crab visitor and then happily up and we all set out for a little jaunt in the kayaks to a new site. We paddled out, passed a little fishing hut and soon were at our new home for the night.

Our new site we found very much to our liking. We found a few new neighbors: Hermit Crabs. I think we may have become the annoying new neighbors though, as Kevin not only liked to pick them up so they would keep popping out of their shells, but also running hermit crab races and setting up scenes with toys found in our Bimbo Bread package (yes Bimbo is the name of a popular bread company in Mexico). The hermit crabs got us back a little bit though. One got stuck under our tent for a moment as we were setting up and gave us a scare as one scrambled out. It was a unique camp set up all around.

One thing that I haven’t mentioned from earlier is that while at lunch spot, before we moved, I was able to pull out the fish book and look for the things I had seen snorkeling the day before. I identified the snake like thing as Tiger Eel. I don’t think I was believed still, or at least our guide and others were skeptical of my identification. That evening though, just before sunset we spotted another Tiger eel. He was swimming along right at the waters edge and stopping now and then to dip his head into the sand and grab a hermit crab for dinner. We followed along to shore with him for a bit. I tried to get a photo but the flash kept reflecting off the water. *sighs* At least I was proven right, or close enough at least.

We stayed outside late that night. The wind saved us from the bugs and still managed not to be too cold. The stars were beautiful and vast. You couldn’t help be enthralled and mystified by the number of twinkling and falling stars. We spent the evening chatting and pointing out constellations. It was a wonderful night.

The next morning I had hoped to get a little more snorkeling in, but this was not to be. Instead a little walk on the beach to see what had been washed up in the night was all the rough surf would allow. I had also hoped to avoid making the final crossing in the kayak but I was to be disappointed there too.

Earlier in the trip we were told we had an optional final kayak challenge of crossing the channel between the island and the mainland. The actual mileage is shorter than some of the trips we had already made, but that doesn’t make it easier. One of the major issues was the lack of mental check marks between one shore and the other, all you could really tell was one shore got a little closer and the other a little farther way. Kevin and I had already discussed it and didn’t feel a need to make this crossing. We were quite happy with the concept of the motorboat picking us up. I for one was having a little bit of bowel discomfort and was a bit grumpy and just didn’t want to do it. Our guide however had made the assumption we were all in for this without asking and had already called in to let headquarters know they didn’t need to send the boat. I won’t go into details however I will say that we were talked/peer pressured into making the crossing.

Before we could go however we first need the waters to be safe and with the surf the way that it was that just wasn’t going to happen right away. Our guide’s exact words on the matter were “We will wait until 11:00 and if it’s died down we will go. If not, we will wait some more”. Is it just me or does something ring awfully wrong about that one? Eventually the water died down and we set out!

Now my friend Ali has written about exercise and pushing yourself and such. I know she finds it exhilarating even when she started out not wanting to do it. I think I’m just too stubborn for that. Earlier in the trip I experienced the burn, was happy, embraced it and powered on. It was cool. This time it was totally opposite.

Those bugs which were only supposed to be annoying turned out to be a bit more, in fact the bites and begun to become horribly itchy. On top of that my tummy wasn’t the happiest and I was a bit pissed about being pushed into making the crossing I didn’t want to make. But we set out and it started out fine.

It soon became apparent how hard the lack of visual checkpoints was going to be on my mindset. You could see the land ahead and that behind and that only changed marginally as you went. It was excruciating. Kevin was a lifesaver by bringing a small GPS unit that told us how far we had gone so we could guess at how far there was left to go (based on the 5 mile estimate our guide had given us). I had to battle myself to not keep asking him how far we had gone, both because I didn’t want to be annoying and because earlier in the week trying to row and read the GPS constantly had made Kevin a little queasy.

The high points of the crossing included numerous Mackerel jumping just off the tip of our kayaks as they were scared by our approach and the very last Paco cleaning stop (woo hoo... no more paco cleaning). Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make me happy, and sometimes, well…

Not even half way across I began to experience the second thing that would make me power through the burn; exhaustion. I had paddled for the last two days, wasn’t feeling well this one and so my body was crying out for a break. My mind wasn’t helping since there were no visual checkpoints and I was on the verge of a breakdown in some regards.

Anyone else with the stubborn gene in them will understand this next section of the story. I was pissed at being made to row. I wanted to give up and sit there in the ocean until someone came to get me. This was what was going on in the back of my head. It’s what I wanted and yet I not only knew I couldn’t have it, but that I would be acting like a spoiled brat in some ways. Part of me really didn’t care, I had sunk pretty low with discomfort and anger, fortunately the rest of me was too stubborn to let this take over and was determined to finish the trip. I know they wanted me to make it across; it was cheaper for them if they didn’t have to send out a motorboat. However there was some part of me that figured that resisting failure at this was also spiting them for pushing me into it. I’m not exactly sure how I came to this logic, but I did at the time.

When you reach this mental and physical low but are still stuck in the middle of a channel between the island and the mainland I think you will find that there is only one option: paddle hard. Up till this point Kevin and I had kept a rhythm that we would use on occasion. We would paddle 10 strokes at a normal pace, then do 20 hard and fast and settle back to 10 normal using the momentum to coast along. It was fun. Now however I felt like the only thing I could do to keep myself from feeling like I was going insane and drowning, was to power paddle real hard no matter how I felt. I would do this with no warning to Kevin (poor guy), I would do this for long periods of time. I was simply pushing past pure exhaustion and exerting any last strength I had in a desperate effort to make it to shore as soon as possible, because the alternative was failure or slow frustration. Gak!

Finally reaching the shore was one of the most odd and interesting experiences ever. Finally I could stop paddling and coast into the beach. Exhaustion took hold. From a distance I had seen the palm topped huts and beach tents as I approached, but when we actually hit the beach I really only had the energy to lift my head a bit and what I saw was only the beach. Pure white sand speckled with soft colorful stones and shells as the front of my kayak slide softly across the top of them. It was like a move, the shot the director wants when the heroine finally reaches home from the deserted island where she almost died. My trip was nothing like that movie, but I got the ending anyway.

I wanted to just crawl onto the beach, maybe roll myself into the cool water and then just lay/float there!

There isn’t tons to tell about the rest of our trip. We unpacked our kayak, had a light lunch, went to our hotel to relax for a while. Later we took our guides out to dinner to thank them, wandered around La Paz a little bit and then went to bed exhausted before our flight out the next morning.

I have to say, though the rediscovery of “cold” is an amazing thing. Its hard to explain since cold isn’t really a item or a taste or anything real. It is however a sense of some type. We were camping for 4 days and 3 nights and while not a horribly long time, we had no access to ice, nothing to keep a cooler of foods cold. You don’t really notice the loss. There is always liquid water or juice or whatever that is cooler than your body temp, and you are refreshed and fine. But when you return to civilization and you are handed really cold bug juice, I swear its like you being handed the exquisite wine or some other full bodied and flavorful drink. Its not that the bug juice has gained any other flavor, or been treated in some way that gives it more flavor, its that cold takes on a dimension on its own and you just can’t get enough of it.

Oh the rediscovery of cold.. mmm… makes laying in a hammock (in CLEAN cloths after a shower) sipping your pina colada just so so much better!

Good trip! Oh so pretty, lots of experiences, ups and downs, a few bug bites to take home as souvenirs (actually over a couple hundred that itched for over a week, but what can you do), good friends and a great time. What more can one ask for?

THE END

This is the last photo album in this series, don’t miss it !!