Numero cinco. "Es la pesca buena?" Historias de Xcalacoco.

"Chance is always powerful. Let your hook be always cast;

in the pool you least expect it, there will be a fish."

Ovid, 1700's

"Our tradition is that of the first man who sneaked away
to the creek when the tribe did not really need fish."
Roderick Haig-Brown, "A river never sleeps" 1946

This morning, like most, the beach is awaking to the slumbering footsteps of blackened fishermen arriving one by one fully outfitted for the day. On a good weather day maybe three or four 'boys' will tote the same cache of antiquated snorkel gear; a small recovered styrofoam net float, about 25 feet of cord and a couple of knifes that is all stowed in a small vibrant colored mesh bag that hangs from broad shoulders.

In their hands they carry a four foot 1/4 inch metal rod with a wooden dowel forced onto the end making a solid handle. On the tip a steel hardened barbed hook is "safety wired" to the lance by running wire through the eyelet, wrapping it multiple times around that shaft, and then finishing it off by threading the wire between the hook and the shaft, the perfect gaffe is ready to go.

When in season, lobsters that back under ledges when spotted will give away their location by extending antenna's from their retreat, you can focus on that movement and the gaff will easily find the mark providing a profit or a great meal. Their catch is almost always about selling to restaurants on the beach when it comes to lobsters.

When the "langosta" are gone, the target then becomes the octopus that usually use the same areas to retreat but are tucked even deeper under an overhang or into a very small crevasse. The swimmers usually dive to those spots, hang upside down, try to get a glimpse of activity and then strike. The octopus is the easier of the catch and provides numerous opportunities during an outing.
Some years ago you would see many 'clorox bottles' discarded on beach's that were being fished for "pulpo." These didn't come from tossed trash, but the contents were diluted, a nozzle was attached to the end and divers squirted the liquid into hiding places to provoke the prey to make a run for it. I don't see that much anymore, but I still see some of those bottles around giving an indication that this may still persist, but rarely.

'Some people go to church and think about fishing, others
go fishing and think about God.'

The other object in hand has now become the "spear gun." It has replaced most other homemade concoctions and even the "gaffe" is more like a 'side arm' now. The spear gun is now at the top of the arsenal, it is drawn, loaded and cradled just beneath the body of the swimmer. When in deep water the tip is held downwards in anticipation of a rapid dive to get into firing distance. Trailing, usually attached to the ankle, behind the swimmer is a length of cord with the mesh bag attached to the end and the float secured about 3 feet up the lanyard. This allows for the catch to be stored, in that bag, and helps to keep legs and arms free thus preventing entanglements while also preserving your catch.
Many times during a good fishing day you will only see the wave of a flipper just before a dive and the subsequent float taking a position above the attack. The float never goes beneath the water line, adjustments can be made when fishing in deeper locations.
These 'boys' have their own territories when it comes to their pursuit, but there is a level of intensity and concentration among them that reflects, this is a job...I'm not here for fun. Newcomers are frowned upon, but accepted after a long period of scrutiny, especially if he is not a national. Each day they gauge the current and the wind direction, enter the water with a definite route in mind and return to a favorite rock outcrop near shore to clean and ready their catch for sale.

It took me a few years to gain some acceptance with those fishermen, that was just on land. But later I felt comfortable to be in the water with them at the same time but I never encroached in areas they were intensely working. Just a little 'ola' at times when they were walking down the beach was the most accepted interaction.

"What the hell. Hey, hey hey!
" I was out about 300 feet when I felt this pull on my fins. For some reason I thought yelling aloud was going to stop it. I kicked frantically for a short distance, turned with my spear gun, took a breath and told myself to relax.
When on top in open ocean it occasionally happens that you bump into something, something that gives you a little chill, but turns out to be some debris or vegetation floating along side of you. The water was turbulent that day and I was "stalking" my favorite area very cautiously trying not to miss any easy opportunity for a hit.
Fish don't see very well in stirred up water, just like us, and I have had them swim right up to my spear tip before we both freaked out and went the other way. On this this day the conditions only provided about 4 feet of vision.
"Relax", I said.
"Dammit." Now, more rapid kicking!
"What the hell."My head popped up, I was kicking like a wild man, both of my fins were being pulled this time and my body was starting to move more to an upright position. One more violent kick and I was free. I thought better of swimming away like "fleeting prey" I would just hold my ground and try to figure out what to do next. I heard some splashing movement over my shoulder and spun around with a little terror on my face.

"Es la pesca buena, amigo?"

Do you remember that laugh you use when you now are safe from something or some event that you may have misconstrued and been put into a panic because of it? Those are the greatest laughs of all ..........and now I was sharing that 'laugh' with a grinning face that I recognized as one of the 'boy' that plied their trade in the area, he got me good.

I actually felt honored, somewhat later, to find it was Hector trailing me and laughing as loud as possible without ingesting liters of salt water. He knew that he had scared the crap out of me by pulling my flippers and then disappearing , but this was more like a prank among friends then something malicious.

In one of his hands he had his own flipper to show me in his most convincing fashion, I got you.

I stopped my laugh, furrowed the brow and with eyes squinted gave that look, you bastard. Then we both started laughing again. We had seen each other many times but this was my first real 'communication' with him. After, I knew that when he walked by my palapa in the mornings that his turning of the head to acknowledge me or give me a thumbs up was the sign that we were now amigos, bound by the pursuit of "watery inhabitants" but for different reasons. I had just added another friend in the area and like many before him it was because I shared interests, this one was fishing.

"Rivers and the inhabitants of the watery elements are made for wise men to contemplate
and for fools to pass by without consideration."
Izaac Walton

'I've never seen any fish out there, the snorkeling here is non-existent.'

I am always excited when I hear some visitor complain about any area that I enjoy, it usually means they are moving on soon and that saves me precious time trying to convince them to do so.

It takes no more than 20 paces from my palapa to 'wet a line' or to snorkel about in hopes of finding 'a little action,' but in the years I spent in the area most people, including locals, knew of many areas that offered a better chance of encountering fish than the beaches of Xcalacoco. But I was always curious why so many people believed there were no fish to be caught or even observed in the area. Maybe it was more about the conditions and the persistent on shore wind that would lift the tops of waves and plaster everything with a moist salty mask or it could be that even when these winds subsided the shallow shoreline was chopped up so badly that you couldn't see you feet in two feet of water? Either way, I knew they were there and it just became a matter of timing...like all fishing. Also, who really cares if a "game fish" is near? Some of favorite times in the water were just observing the variety, trying to repeat their names in my head and looking for something I had never seen before. The hunt wasn't always on and the vast majority of located fish had nothing to do with taking one, just enjoying them.

I decided to "snag a few photos that represent the various fish that I have added to my "tick list" while at Xcalacoco. I have seen many of these in other areas, some in much greater numbers, but these are just some of the species I have viewed over the years only a few paces from my palapa. This is a little reply to those that have 'had difficulties' with their snorkel experiences there and decided to move on.

Of all the fish one might encounter "Pez Mariposa's", angelfishes, may pack the most tranquility per pound. Each time I encounter one, whether it is a French, Gray, Queen or a Rock Beauty their often gaudy colors are a welcome encounter. The angel fish has very high levels of curiosity and the way they flutter from area to area helps create a spellbinder scene for me.

It has been demonstrated many times that "Morena's", morays, are not as dangerous and menacing as their appearance, but that isn't enough for me. They are always a surprise when they make themselves known, usually peering from a dark hiding spot and then emerging with jaws agape. When a friend borrowed my spear gun, he shot a small fish and while retrieving it, out stormed a 5 foot moray. Yes it did pluck his fish right off the end of the barbed shaft and caused my friend to scream like a baby and exit the water like a lightening bolt. The green and the spotted are the most common in the area.

Grunts, aka, "pez Maya" or cha-chi are numerous everywhere, as are goat fish and
all types of damselfishes like the ever present and constantly feeding Sergeant major.
Lots of then can be taken from shore if you are good at spotting them in the shallows and even better with a throw net.

Pez loro, parrotfishes, are on the favorites list of almost everyone.
The Stoplight, Queen and Rainbow are common in the area. The Blue is a little more difficult to find but worth the wait. All of the loro's have different color phases and can be easily confused with each other with out keen observation and identification.

The locals call him "pez San Pedro", he is the peacock flounder. Very tasty by the way.

You cant tell that "Mero", groupers, don't know when you are after them, a quick look and then off to the deepest crack they can find is usually what happens.
Mero negro, mero de aleta amarilla and mero tiger are
all a prized food fish and put up a real struggle when caught.

When you are snorkeling around a large school of fish, take a quick look over your shoulder,
you might find the "Great" barracuda doing the same. It is all about
the ambush and the stalking. Don't take a large one.
The smaller are better and safer for eating. By the way, they are a gas on a "hand line."

If you haven't seen a green turtle, you just aren't trying.
Try shallow weeded areas first, then deep sandy bottoms for your best chances.

The filefish, "Pez Lima," can be a very difficult find,
but my favorite is the "scrawled filefish" with the pygmy filefish providing a rare glimpse.

Porcupinefish, "Puercoespin" and "Pez Globo" are common. Try to resist taking back as a sovenior, I don't think having a dried fish in your den is an 'design element.'

When Latinos are fishing in the Midwest they catch a rough fish we
call a "sheep head" and they call "Morrida." It is also called the black margate and again it is very tasty. It is in the grunt family.

The porkfish can reach to over a foot and is in the grunt family.

One look at this little guy and it screams 'don't touch me!'
I will add to that by saying "don't tread on me."
The scorpionfish loves to lurk at shallow ledges
that border the ocean and the beach,
be careful when entering a flat looking area with small overhangs.

Don't be such a coward, they taste great and don't have any claws.
The tell tale give a way is seeing them retreat under a rock,
leave an antenna exposed and start waving it around
to detect predators. Looking over the side of an inflatable,
with a mask on, is a good way to spot them in the shallows.
Follow that with a short dive, a little gaffing and alot of butter.

"Raya Pinta's, Pastinca del Caribe and raya amarilla are common.
The "Spotted Eagle Ray" with it's wide and box like facial features ,
swimming right at you, is not to be avoided if you ever have that chance.

The jacks, or "Jurel" are everyway, esp in the evening.
The ride the waves, dart from shelter to open water and charge up
and down the shore with a mission, find food.
These include the bar jack, yellow, horse-eye, crevalle, african pompano
and the greater amberjack. Hang on, I have had them
break a muskie rod and rip right off the end of a metal spear head.

The snapper. Never pass up a chance to add this
great fighter and fryer to your stringer.


The triggerfish, "Pez Gatillo", is rare in the shallows
around Xcalacoco, but I have seen a few .

"Pez Trompeta" or the trumpetfish.

The spanish hogfish is a great find and "Boquinette"
is prized for their taste.

So, to those, and I know that does not include any reader here; 'Contemplate those watery elements' and do no pass without consideration.' More to come about 'really fishing' on later blog's.

Numero cuatro. " Playa del Crimen" Historias de Xcalacoco

Tastes like chicken?

"Usted desea el hielo?"
"No gracis, I'll just drink it like this. You know me when it comes to " ron Cubano" I would just prefer to drink it straight."
"Very well senor, if you do change you mind it will be in the cooler. Did you hear the story from up the road?"
" Nope."
" Last week, in the local paper, I saw the typical terrible photos that "la presnsa" loves to publish here."
" What's that, some truck accident?"
"I shouldn't tell you all the details, it just might make your amigos feel a little uneasy, but this one turned out to be more than a rumor."
"Go ahead, tell me, in fact sometimes it helps a little just to shake up someone around here so they don't walk around with their head up....... you know what I mean?"

"Usted sabe where the Coca-Cola plant is?"
" Yeah, at the entrance off the highway, right?"

" Se that's el. It seems that a couple of local crack heads or maybe meth freaks were just behind the plant in a makeshift "encampamento." They had been there for some time and were working on and off for a clean up crew at the new construction in the area. I heard they were 'indios' from Chiapas or maybe from along the Usumacinta river on the Guatemala border. Someone said they had been in the area for a month or so and had been camping out at various locations. It seems they liked the 'coke factory' because they had 'un pozo de agua' out back that they were using."

" So someone didn't like them using their well and living on their property?"
" Well the local "policia" made a stop to check up on things and found quite a mess."
" What's new about that?"
" Not much, but in that mess they found some "ollas" that contained some 'mystery meat' that was cooking."


" I think I know where you're going with this one. Some local calls and says.....'hey my pets are in those cooking pots.' "Tacos de gato, tacos de perro or worse, right."
" Well senor it's presumed that they went a little farther then that. During the investigation they found a few stolen items from the area and while uncovering a pile of packaging and coconut shells, a torso, hidden away under that stack of debris was found. By the way...........it was missing some parts."

" I hope those were the edible ones."
"Ka"
"Never mind."
" Pero su verdad senor. Remember when everyone would sit on that side of the road just last week while waiting for a bus to come by?"

"Not any more, right."
"Claro amigo, claro."
" I suppose it gets better from here?"
"Amigo, the papers said that one of the "residentes del campo" was too messed up to get into town 'para mas drogas', so he gave money to another and sent him to do the job. When he returned, 'ningunas drogas y ningún dinero,' and he said he was robbed. Well, the other guy believed that he just used up the dope and the money and then there was " una lucha grande."

"I think I know who lost."
" Yes, he beat him to death and stashed his body."
" Nothing like a good tenderizing before BBQ."
"No entiendo senor."
"Never mind, go on"

" I guess he decided that with no food or drugs, well the locals said he removed portions, cooked them and................"

"And he was going to open a taco stand for the workers at the plant, right?"
"Did you hear that also?"
"That's a joke, Amiga."
"Not around here it isn't senor."

" I bet this story didn't make the "Playa tourist travel chat lines."
" Oh yes it did, senor, yes it did."

" Thanx for that info, I think I'll take some of ice now."

"TeNT fISHIN"

Generally when camping on a beach that is totally open to the public and has no security, I recommend to stay close to other's. Don't pitch your tent too far away from the rest, it might just invite some visitors while you are gone at the expense of you trying to achieve more privacy. Although , I have learned that proximity isn't always the answer. Recently I did experience the theft of a tent, with everything in it, when the visiting nephew of the campground owner found that his entire abode was spirited away un-noticed in the middle of the afternoon. It was probably folded up like a "chalupa" and toted off, stuffing and all.

"I guess it doesn't pay that much to know someone , when someone else doesn't know who you know."

I'm not quite sure how I would deter an em brazened thief in broad daylight not to lift up my entire tent and contents and just walk away, but I do use a few tricks when I am in a tent at night, esp when alone. That would be twist ties or small "biners" locking your zippers together from the inside of the tent, or maybe a bell attached somewhere to alert you when someone is messing with you. I have thought of going as far as a motion detector, like those K-TEL ones that you get for windows, they make a loud sound and are priced at about $5 for three of them.


'Wake up, wake up, someone was trying to get in out tent. He took our bags.'
It was about 3am and you really never know how deep you are sleeping till someone wakes you at that time. I turned over and in my hammock and there was Barb, she looked more than just a little upset and somewhat mystified, as I was also.

'I thought I heard something, woke up and there was some guy in the front of our tent. Jim was sleeping next to me, I woke him and the guy started running down the beach. Our huge duffel bag is gone.'
"Is everybody alright?"
'Yes, but that scared the hell out us. My heart is going crazy.'
"That is fucking weird. [The green tent, far left, in the above photo was the tent]

I can't say I immediately sprang into action, it helped to know no one was harmed or threatened, but my adrenalin levels started to match my friends, so I grabbed my 8 cell mag, my sawed off fungo bat, stuck a blade in my shorts and started down the beach at a slow lope.

This wasn't a time to do the 'Chuck Norris' thing, but I wasn't going on pursuit unarmed. Double timing it down the moon lite beach with nothing but inescapable ocean on my left and impenetrable jungle on my right It started to dawn on me that this guy probably had a route in mind and I wasn't privy to it. I was more worried that I was to be mistaken for the perpetrator by soldiers that patrol the area looking for drug runners then catching up with the thief. So the 'chase' ended.

"He's long gone. I caught a short glimpse of him, but there is no way to follow anyone on foot in this terrain. What happened?"
"I don't think I was awake for it all but I heard a noise, there was the front of our tent open, and leaning in was some guy. It really was like a dream for a moment till I started yelling at him and Jim in the same breath. It was just so unexpected.'

"Just hang for a bit and relax a little. I'm going to look around a little more."
'Do you think we should notify anyone?'
"Only if you want to ruin the rest of your sleep for the night."

This isn't the first time something like this has happened to me in a campground, in the states or while traveling. On a few other occasions I noticed that the stolen items or even the thief or an accomplice may be nearer then you think. Just because you see someone fleeing in the distance it isn't always an indication that someone else or something isn't still very near to you.


I thought I would look around some more in hopes that he tossed the stolen items he didn't want. About 25 feet away was a large clump of bushes that helps mark the two properties, I shouldered the bat, put on the head lamp and started towards them. After leaving the reflections on the white sand of the beach it looked like you just entered 'grandma's potato cellar,' it was dark. My LED light penetrated the blackness but eerily it brought life to the shadows surrounding that beam, I was totally awake now.

"Come here, over here, I need some help." Just as I rounded the edge of that bush I saw a large dark form secluded beneath the hanging branches.

"This must be yours"
'That's our bag.'
"Shit, how the hell did he get this out of the tent. I didn't know your duffel was this huge."
'Well when I saw him trying to get into our tent that bag was already gone. We keep it off to the side or at the foot of the sleeping bags because it is so large. He must have taken it out, stashed it behind the bush, and came back for something else.'

" That's amazing that he could drag out that enormous bag, without you noticing, then decide to return. I see that it has been unzipped and the top layers have been gone through. I don't see anything missing and nothing is strewn about."
'We didn't have much of value in the bag, clothes mostly, and may some snorkel gear.'
"He had some very large "cojones" to try this. I was thinking just a drunk but now I know this guy is a 'working man.'

After calming down a little and somewhat happy we didn't have a physical confrontation we started trying to figure out the sequence.

"Are you missing anything else?"
'As a matter of fact, yes. I had this small zip case, looks more like a shaving kit to me but it could have looked like a purse or clutch, that's missing. It was at the head of my bag and nothing valuable was in it. But how the hell did he see it and then "fish it out of our tent?'
"I'm not sure about that but I assume after getting the duffel out without being discovered, and then not finding cash or cash producing items, he went back for more. I suppose he brushed against you while reaching for that little "bolsa", you woke up and away he went."

'That freaked us out.'
"Yo tambien."

"The beaches are always good pick-up spots"

After a while telling everyone you see at the beach to " never leave your bags unattended or out in the open"gets a little tiresome, even if you are doing it for the right reason. 'I have them right next to me all the time' is the usual response. Or, ' I've traveled a lot and know what to do.'

"Hmmmmmmm"

"Ola, you guys staying here for a while?"
"Just tonight. We have a plane to catch in the morning back to Arizona. This is Jan and I'm Nate."
"I'm Stephen, mucho gusto."
"Any good spots to swim here? It looks a little rocky right in front."
"Up the beach about 200 yards there is bank with a spit of white sand and a mangrove swamp behind it, there is good swimming right in front."
"Hey thanks man, that should do it. We both have been river guides on the Colorado for 15 years so a few rocks don't bother us at all."
"Stop back later, we can share a beer or a few stories."
"Sure thing."


"Stephen"
"How was your swim Jan?"
"Not so good, someone stole our bag. Is there anyway to call the police from here?"
"No problema. Let's get ahold of Juan he will take care of it. What happened?"
"We found that spot, Nate went in for a swim and I stayed with the back-pack. It was the one that had our money, passports, ID's and tickets in it. That was so stupid. We left the rest of the stuff locked in our room and unfortunately we decided these items would be safest with us."

I have experienced this story and heard it a few times before so I knew not all is lost, it can be taken care of but there won't be any recovery, that's for sure.
"We went to the banks in front of the swamp, Nate was in the water, I was with the bag right beside me and all of a sudden a blur grabbed my pack and starting running. Nate came in and tried to follow, but this guy ran into the swamp. I can't believe it happened like that, and to us."


The police actually arrived in a timely fashion but by that time the camp was in motion. No one there was going to miss an opportunity to get the thief that had been roaming the beach for the last week or so. It was like a B movie or maybe even "Keystone Cops." People were looking for something to defend themselves with or to use in the beat down, like a shovel, or machete. Even a few rocks and fold up chairs were tossed into the back of a couple of pickups that volunteered to help look for this guy. A corridor was manned and people were watching at any exit out of the swamp that would lead to freedom. Most of these boys had been in that swamp before, they all had lived in the area for many years so they knew how inaccessable it was.


While walking down the beach to the crime site with the police and Jan I couldn't help but notice the side arm being carried by "el sargento." It was slung on him with a belt that needed about 3 more holes to accommodate a buckle that was holding the weapon well below his waist but still above his knees. It looked like a "38." There was no ammo being carried on the hand stitched and obviously home made bandoleer that was not attached in the middle.. His loosely holstered pistol was bouncing off of his hip with each step we took and I decided to move away a little just in case that thing popped out and went off. As we got close to the area where the theft happened someone shouted, "there he is."


Nate came running up. " I see him back there, behind that large embankment now. Look he sees us. How can he move in there? I don't think he has shoes on? Hey, that's our pack he's carrying."

More people arrived and saw the same thing. But after seeing his position the enthusiasm for the chase then came to a grinding halt, no one from here was going into that swamp and neither were we, or the cops. I looked over to the Sergent, wondering what's next? Then to every ones surprise this officer had a solution. He started to fumble with his buttoned down sweaty shirt pocket, pulled out what I thought was a pen at the time and held it up to the sky either for inspection or a display meant for the fellow in the swamp. I wasn't sure if I was having a "Barney Fife" moment or if that was a pen in his pocket. He then inserted the 'pen' into the revolver and placed it in the firing position.


My weak Spanish never totally revealed to me what his intentions were but I assumed a 'shot across the bow' might have been on his mind. That never did happened, maybe it was just a threat, but it would have been fun to see the look on every ones faces if he did skip one off the slime.

Time went on, maneuver's were made and the chase was abandoned.
"Well not all is lost Nate. I do have beers on ice that was given to me and I can give a ride to the airport or where-ever you want to go, anytime is OK with me."
"Does this happen a lot here."
"Not with quite that much drama, but it is the season.

"Man that guy had some big "cojones."

'Más grande que usted conozca a mis amigos.'
"Bigger then you know, my friends."

"Novi shines"

So you expected to see tons of Novi photo's, I guess you just had to be there. Many family members contributed to these special days of visiting with Lea, the 11th of eleven and the youngest daughter of Evelyn and Dwight.

Want to see more? Try http://picasaweb.google.com/artifactor/LeaVisit. Or try Siera.