Bellosas

The day started with a healthy dose of Catholicism on the plaza in Higuera Blanca. There is something about that international ancient tradition of seeking God that gives me comfort and companionship. Then to the highway, to hitch a ride to Punta Mita. Hitchhiking is generally pretty easy, we get picked up by workers, gringos, and even a single mom with a baby. Once we arrived in Punta Mita, our tourist pheremones set to work and they came at us like moths. We had an appointment for a boat tour with Rudy, a laid-back Austrian introduced to us by one of our community members. But that didn't stop a small swarm of tour guides quoting prices, adventures, guarantees, and mediocre English. We hemmed and hawed, and Rudy finally got the scent, swooped in, and hardly left our side for the next hour and a half, even joining us for the majority of our meal. Times are tough in the tourism field right now. We enjoyed a lovely meal at El Dorado, which our neighbor Rod helped found. They had delicious ice cream served in a fruit shell.
And then into the boat, about 25 feet long, with Rudy and his brother-in-law, a Mexican. The bay cradles Puerto Vallarta in the center, and we were located on the northern point, with the hazy sierra surrounding us. We traveled out toward the open ocean and saw a stopped boat, a good sign. We pulled up next to them and sure enough, they had spotted them. A family of whales! Mama, papa, y bebe. They come to the bay, as Rudy says, on honeymoon - to make babies. They also have babies, and we saw one later which was only a few days old, but already 1500 pounds, and as long as our boat. They are humpback whales. Rudy told us one of the largest dangers to whales still remaining is giant cruise ships which travel so fast that the whales can't get out of the way. Sascha's eyes glaze over daily while staring at the ocean hoping for a glimpse; apparently everyone in Litibu sees them all the time except us. But there we were, twenty feet away from them! And of course we were especially prepped for some great sea-life, having just watched Whale Rider AND Jaws.
Next step was a trip to the Marieta Islands, a Mexican National Park and bird sanctuary. And whatever they were doing, it was successful, because there were hundreds of birds in the air and hundreds more on every rock surface. The blue-footed booby has been introduced there, native to the Galapagos, and Rudy said the islands are home to 20,000 birds. Stepping foot on the island is prohibited, as well as fishing nearby, however swimming seems to be completely acceptable. We pulled up next to the island and fed the fish crackers, an entire school, each the size of a dinner plate, would aggressively attack the crackers. I did not want them to aggressively attack me. But I got in the water anyway. In case anyone reading this doesn't already know, I have an irrational fear of fish in all their forms. I had twenty bats flying around my head in an incredibly closed proximity in a dark room earlier this week, and one even pooped on my mouth and I had no problem with it. But swimming with fish is another story. We went through a hollowed out tunnel into a miniature cove with a lovely sandy beach. I wasn't quite brave enough to snorkel, in fact I avoided looking anywhere other than the sky the entire time, but no fish touched my skin.
The next step of our journey was to head to open ocean and throw in the lines. In case I didn't make it clear earlier, I really hate fish. I swam about while the men did the manly job. And they caught one, a ladyfish, and let it suffocate to death on deck, then took it's body and hacked it up right on board. We carried the carcass all the way home and Sascha boiled it up for supper, and spent an hour picking the bones out of it.