Written March 6th, 2015

We had a dinner party the other night; Karl and Kimmie, the caretakers of the house we’re renting, and Tom, a long-time Cabo Pulmo visitor who is building a place up the street. It’s always interesting to hear stories about the locals, the ex-pats, and the squatters. It sometimes feels like a tad more civilized version of the Wild West here. Disputes are sometimes settled with violence and there is certainly a bit of corruption.

You know you’re relaxed when laundry detergent gets you excited.

We always look at properties here; there are usually a few for sale. Some of these houses are built not as rental properties or seasonal homes, but as year round residences with lavish kitchens and baths, and multiple terraces and patios; luxury living on the Sea of Cortez. And they’re priced that way as well. Gringos can never really “own” property in Mexico (unless it’s over 100 kilometers away from an international border and 50 kilometers away from an ocean). They rent it, by way of a fideicomiso, which is a 50-year lease; some call it a land trust. But the bank holding the fideicomiso has all rights to the property. That part makes me a tad uncomfortable.

Many ex-pats are here on a permanent basis; they like the fact that the temperature fluctuation is never more than about 30 degrees. Winters (December and January) can get as cold as 60, summers as high as 90. And living here year round allows a person to keep an eye on their place and its contents. Squatters would be dispatched post haste. Crime is pretty much non-existent in Cabo Pulmo, but I’d still worry about a place if I owned it and couldn’t check on it regularly. I’m sure most folks that have rental property here do pretty well, and there are great caretakers here, but I’m happy to rent for a few weeks and leave all the potential problems behind when we leave.

So over Margaritas, Jambalaya, salad, lots of red wine and Kimmie’s excellent lemon bars we heard stories about Cabo Pulmo’s cast of characters and felt for a little while like locals. With no responsibilities.

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The wind blew so hard the next day that even in the sun I was chilly, so I donned my sweatshirt and did what the weather was perfect for: laundry. The wind and lack of humidity dry the clothes in a flash, and the laundry detergent we bought in San Jose del Cabo is some of the best smelling stuff… I’d buy it at home in a heartbeat. You know you’re relaxed when laundry detergent gets you excited.

Tom had forgotten his travel wallet at our hacienda the night before, which contained cash and his passport; we’d expected he’d come by looking for it, but the poor guy thought he’d really lost it (at the local market). We took a walk to his place after dinner to return it when we hadn’t seen him, and he was visibly relieved.

While we were out we decided to head to the Coral Reef restaurant for a beer, and in the small world department sat at the bar with a couple, Shane and Amanda, who now live in the San Francisco area but hailed from back east, she from Rhode Island. Both sailors, they bought an ocean cruiser last year and plan to take 5 years off to sail the world. Their plan is to make all necessary repairs and improvements needed in the next 2 years and then head out. I, in protecting the flock mode, asked them some pointed questions. “You plan to tether to the cockpit when sailing overnight passages, right?” And, “Please tell me you don’t piss off the back of the boat, Shane.” They answered correctly: yes to the first and no to the second. More man overboard alerts and drownings are attributed to taking a leak over the side than anything else.

Shane and Amanda would eventually like to come back to the east coast, where Amanda’s dad ran a marina. We hope to hear from them when they come to RI for a visit this summer and possibly do a flotilla with them and their friends. They also plan to sail in the Sea of Cortez when they leave San Francisco, so we’ll be looking for “Sunday Morning” in Cabo Pulmo in 2017.

 

Deborah