Written March 7th, 2015
No, this isn’t about some redneck hunting club that has militia meetings on Wednesday nights. This is about everyday life in Cabo Pulmo, especially if you’re paying attention.
I’ve talked about the marauding horses and cattle, and the chickens we can hear in every other yard. There are also cats around, and dogs, some big, some very, very small. Some not so nice. The locals still have a macho mindset and don’t get their dogs neutered. Along with that some even still train them for fighting. Responsible dog owners like Karl and Kimmie and Tom have veterinary bills because of the aggressive local dogs. Most are fine with people, but not with other animals. The two dogs that attacked Tom’s dog Chanterelle were very friendly to tourists I saw just today, but took a chunk out of her side a couple of weeks ago. Gringos with small dogs are very careful, not only on the road to the beach where the big dogs reside, but also on the hiking trails where the coyotes live. Karl’s dog Sammy was attacked by a coyote a couple of years ago, but is well and happy to ride on his dad’d quad.
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And since hurricane season brought so much rain (but not the devastating destruction Cabo San Lucas suffered) Cabo Pulmo has had issues with rattlesnakes. I guess they’ve always been around, but the number of sightings just this year is much higher than normal. I’ll stick to the beach.
Shore birds are plentiful, and every day we see a new bird or hear a new song in the garden. We continue to put orange halves out, which most of our feathered guests like a lot. I’ve also discovered that cardinals and thrashers are very fond of grapes. And Gila Woodpeckers like mango. Mango pits, even carved by the most experienced hand, have a lot of pulp left on them, and the Gila Woodpeckers are eating well this week as they’ve had two so far. Think of the sound of a dog’s squeaky toy repeatedly being squeezed. That’s what a Gila Woodpecker sounds like. We hear them talk to each other across the garden and it sounds like squeaky toys everywhere. Or the late Peter Boyle’s imitation his wife’s yapping, as told to his non-English speaking Italian cousin on the episode of Everybody Loves Raymond where they visit Italy. “BAP, BAP, BAP, BAP, BAP, BAP, BAP!”
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Palapa roofs in Baja are covered with netting. One reason is that the high winds can’t wreak as much havoc with a net covered palapa, the other is so that the birds can’t nest atop houses in the dried palm leaves. Unless they’re very clever. The house finches have devised a way to weave a nest in the palm fringe that overlaps the palapa’s edge. There are two of them along the front edge of the porch. So now along with the moth wing remains I sweep up in the morning I’m also sweeping up discarded nesting materials. I am here to serve.
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We routinely see cactus wrens, vireos, cardinals, white winged doves, orioles, thrashers, Gila woodpeckers, finches and sparrows, but my new favorite little guy is the verdin. He’s the size of a hummingbird, with a bright yellow head, a light gray belly and a medium gray back, and a red patch on his wings. And a really cool eye mask. They’re a big fan of oranges so I get to spend a lot of time with them.
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On the way to the beach we’ve seen turkey vultures, caracara, Road Runners, and both on that road and in the garden we’ve seen jack rabbits. With HUGE ears. Last night there was a fox. Today nine Gambel’s quail walked down the garden path and then off into the brush. Lizards and geckos are everywhere. And the Sea of Cortez was called the Aquarium of the World by Jacques Cousteau. Even today the overcast sky couldn’t take away the beauty below the water. We swam through schools of scissortail damselfish and Pacific sergeant majors that didn’t seem bothered by us at all.
After our first foray to Los Arbolitos last week we made a trip to Los Frailles where the fishing boats come in. At around noon there is a good selection of just caught fish, and we bought a huge red snapper for the equivalent of $11. Steve captured my messy cleaning job (with my new boning/fish cutting knife) and we had a beautiful sautéed filet of snapper with tequila lime sauce for dinner that night. I made fish stock with the head and bones, and last night made a fish chowder.
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The flies seem to be particularly bothersome when fish is in the mix. Steve suggested we put a distracter dish aside to lure them and hit it with some hot sauce. I told him, “They’re Mexican flies. They’d probably love it.”
Ay Chihuahua!
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