Cabo

Cabo San Lucas

Land Ho! In Mexico—we were able to get off the ship this time now that we’re trying this for the second time.  Our first stop, just south of San Diego, is Cabo.  As we approached San Lucas Bay on our ship, my first thought was, “this isn’t Polynesia anymore.”  Yes, there is green-blue water.  Yes, there are beaches.  Yes, there are ghastly expensive yachts and sailboats in the marina.  But this is most definitely DESERT and not rain forest climate.  The rock formations are not black volcanoes overgrown with lush greenery.  Here in Cabo, the rock outcroppings are light brown and often bare.  Cacti grow near coconut trees.  Humidity is absent. 

Cabo is well known for the rock formations in San Lucas Bay and it was obvious by the tourist boats and swimmers and divers gathered near “the Arch” which is near Lover’s Beach on the bay side and Divorce Beach on the Pacific side.  Jerry and I had scheduled a tour that would get us out on that busy water site in a glass bottom kayak. Huh, you ask?  Yup, it’s a kayak built for two that has a clear plastic rectangle between our legs that allows us to see what we are floating over.  We quickly lathered on sunscreen, stripped down to our swimsuits, exchanged tennis shoe for water shoes, donned the required life jackets, and dutifully tandem-sat in the kayak upon our guide’s signal in between waves.  The first mile of paddling wasn’t too difficult since the wind and waves were in our favor.  We hugged the shore, weaving between large tour boats whose captains smiled and hooted out rowing cadences.  Luckily, the young couple from Missoula who came along on this tour shared their iPhone to take pics of us to prove we were there. 😊

Upon seeing that were sea-worthy, our guide took us out past the rock formations and onto the Pacific waves themselves.  Quite a ride in a kayak.  Don’t tell my chiropractor.  We circled the Arch and headed back into the Bay, pulling ashore on a beach for a half hour of snorkeling.  This beach was busy with families of all ages getting into and out of the fierce waves where the sand dropped away quickly.   I got churned up as I entered and I climbed back out and waited for Jerry to enjoy the snorkeling on his own.  The water, while not frigid, was also not the 80+ we had gotten used to in Polynesia.  I had about a bucket of sand inside my suit bottoms as I quickly grabbed them and returned them to my body.  Whew.  Now I know why I also have a one-piece suit and will bring it for future encounters…

Soon we were paddling back to our take-out point, pulling hard against the wind and waves from this direction.  Actually, the exercise felt really good.  There were indents in the kayak for footholds, and the seat was engineered for maximal pulling.  The heavier of us was put in the front seat, so I was the one who mimicked the direction of Jerry’s paddle to be as synchronized as possible.  Hmmm.  Following the motions of a seasoned whitewater river guide was enough to make you all laugh out loud.

A warm shower on the cruise ship was heavenly as left-over sand and salt water whirled down the drain.  The rest of the evening was normal:  a four-course evening meal with wine, then lazing in our room until the evening program at 9:15—this time was a classical guitarist from the UK who was phenomenal.