Baja Sea Turtles, Fathers Day 2018

17 June 2018, mako-ville 5:30 am.  I awake the stars have fled the twilight skies of Baja.  In the quiet background the morning breath of whales can be heard in the distance.  The whales are passing between mako-ville and Isla San Luis is less then 5 miles away.  As the sun glides above the horizon the blows from the whales fly like faire dust into the cool morning air.  The sunlight illuminates them and they appear enchanted and alive.  What a spectacular way to awaken to a new day.

A couple of hours later I felt blessed at the wake up call I had experienced this morning.  Sitting at the restaurant awaiting my morning coffee and breakfast I could still sea the whales passing.  What a glorious morning to be alive.  Yes another great day to be in my beloved Baja.  My leg is healing and life is good.

After breakfast I took a ride in the Rhino to an overlook behind Punta Bufeo this viewpoint is about 4-5 miles from mako-ville.  You are about 100 feet up on top of a cliff overlooking the Sea of Cortez.  If you look to the north you sea Isla San Luis about 8 miles away.   Looking to the south in the fresh morning air you can clearly sea Puerto Refugio and the Isla de  la Guardia about 55 miles away.

This place was magical this morning, you could still sea spouting whales and looking down at the reef below there was a small school of yellowtail chasing bait just outside the rocks and boulders.  Over the reef itself I spotted a couple of cabrilla sitting and sunning themselves over warming rocks in maybe 5 feet of water.  What a view.  Baja magic, but my father’s day was not to be over just yet.

Little did I know how special this day was to be.  In the afternoon I returned to camp.  Having had a full morning, I hydrated and took a nap.  I slept until 4 in the afternoon.  Freshened up with a HOT solar shower just installed by my friend Kai on his last trip through camp a week earlier.  AWESOME.  At dinner time, 6 pm I headed to the restaurant where Clementina was preparing Chile Rellanos stuffed with cream cheese, shrimp and jalapenos, a new favorite of mine.

The magic of Baja struck as I was sipping on a diet coke.   Looking out the front arched windows I saw motion, and it took me a few seconds to realize what was happening.  On the beach in front of me a sea turtle had made her journey from her home waters to the top of the beach.  She crawled over a hundred feet and started digging her nest.  It was the first few flippers full of flying beach sand that had attracted my eyes.

Yelling to Luis and Clementina to come from the kitchen to sea what was happening on THEIR beach.  They were followed by Mari and Ana their kitchen help.  Also present were two residents from Punta Bufeo and sitting on the porch steps were 3 mexican commercial fishermen.  Also there was a family of 8 renting the new house on the beach.  Luis told them all to wait a while and allow her to lay her eggs BEFORE approaching her.

Over an hour later she turned towards the sea and everyone except me went to sea her off.  The three kids from the house had just experienced a small miracle, the birthing cycle had started.  ALL the people on the beach, EVERYONE of them collected big rocks and put a barrier around the nest.  Hopefully 60 days later her eggs will emerge from the sand and travel back to the sea.  Yes I plan on being there.

Many years ago while stationed in Panama with the USAF I experienced a group of sea turtles on a beach on the Island of Contadora.  That too was near sunset but there were many turtles that evening.  This Fathers Day there was only a single turtle, none of her sisters came ashore with her.  She was ALONE.  Last year a turtle laid her eggs in a nest in front of a house at Punta Bufeo and nothing hatched.  This year we will closely observe the nest and maybe this nest will hatch out.  We can only hope, the rest is up to our maker.

I do not know why the Lord graced me with the wonders of this day.  But I feel so humbled by his blessing.  But I do know we as a race are killing our planet, Our seas are dying, our mother ocean is sick, we are raping her.  OUR days are limited by her health.  Wake up people BEFORE it is too late.

I believe the turtle was a green sea turtle, she was about 3 feet long maybe 24 inches wide and weighed about 80 kilos, or almost 200 pounds.   May she prosper, live long and produce MANY offspring.  Turtle populations are dying off all over our world, and MAN is their biggest predator.  They are ALL endangered.  The information below was copied from internet sites and is not mine.



 Turtles: Five of the world’s eight species of marine turtles feed in the Sea of Cortez: loggerheads, leatherbacks, green sea turtles, olive ridleys,   and hawksbills. Turtles like to hang around dive sites at wrecks. Many migrate from Baja to Japan and back – thanks to conservation efforts.

Information About Sea Turtles: Green Sea Turtle

Common Name: Green sea turtle – named for the green color of the fat under its shell. (In some areas, the Pacific green turtle is also called the black sea turtle.)

Scientific Name: Chelonia mydas

Description: They are easily distinguished from other sea turtles because they have a single pair of prefrontal scales (scales in front of its eyes), rather than two pairs as found on other sea turtles. Head is small and blunt with a serrated jaw. Carapace is bony without ridges and has large, non-overlapping, scutes (scales) present with only 4 lateral scutes. Body is nearly oval and is more depressed (flattened) compared to Pacific green turtles. All flippers have 1 visible claw. The carapace color varies from pale to very dark green and plain to very brilliant yellow, brown and green tones with radiating stripes. The plastron varies from white, dirty white or yellowish in the Atlantic populations to dark grey-bluish-green in the Pacific populations. Hatchlings are dark-brown or nearly black with a white underneath and white flipper margins.

For comparison, the Pacific green turtle (aka Black Sea Turtle) has a body that is strongly elevated or vaulted and looks less round in a frontal view than other green sea turtles. The color is where you see the biggest difference with Pacific greens having a dark grey to black carapace and the hatchlings are a dark-brown or black with narrow white border with white underneath.

Size: Adults are 3 to 4 feet in carapace length (83 – 114 cm). The green turtle is the largest of the Cheloniidae family. The largest green turtle ever found was 5 feet (152 cm) in length and 871 pounds (395 kg).

Weight: Adults weigh between 240 and 420 pounds (110 – 190 kg).

Diet: Changes significantly during its life. When less than 8 to 10 inches in length eat worms, young crustaceans, aquatic insects, grasses and algae. Once green turtles reach 8 to 10 inches in length, they mostly eat sea grass and algae, the only sea turtle that is strictly herbivorous as an adult. Their jaws are finely serrated which aids them in tearing vegetation.

Habitat: Mainly stay near the coastline and around islands and live in bays and protected shores, especially in areas with seagrass beds. Rarely are they observed in the open ocean.

Nesting: Green turtles nest at intervals of about every 2 years, with wide year-to-year fluctuations in numbers of nesting females. Nests between 3 to 5 times per season. Lays an average of 115 eggs in each nest, with the eggs incubating for about 60 days.

Range: Found in all temperate and tropical waters throughout the world.

Status: U.S. – Listed as Threatened (likely to become endangered, in danger of extinction, within the foreseeable future) under the U.S. Federal Endangered Species Act. Green sea turtles were downlisted from Endangered in 2016.  International– Listed as Endangered (facing a very high risk of extinction in the wild in the near future) by the International Union for Conservation of Nature and Natural Resources.

Threats to Survival: The greatest threat is from the commercial harvest for eggs and food. Other green turtle parts are used for leather and small turtles are sometimes stuffed for curios. Incidental catch in commercial shrimp trawling is an increasing source of mortality.

Population Estimate*: Between 85,000 and 90,000 nesting females.

Nesting Sites:  All over the world.

Life in MOTION

You cannot exist without motion.  Mobility is LIFE!  Kathryn DiPietro this was inspired and is about you amiga.  It affects all of us older, disabled, addicted, depressed PEOPLE.  You cannot live without Mobility.  Living is moving.

Motion helps your emotions come to life.  Feel the JOY of life through your mobility.  When you can move or get around your life EXPANDS, opening new vistas.  YES I lost a foot.  It will not kill me.  Buy it sure is hard to hop thru life.  Yes I will get a fake leg but that takes time.  What to do in the time between amputation and walking again is the problem.

And what about people who find it very hard to walk, what do they do?  Just give up in dispare?  I hope not!  MOVE.  Find a way to get out and experience life again.  Get a set of crutches, a wheel chair, a walker or like my friend Kathryn a QUAD.

Motion is LIFE.  Get out there and SEA the world, explore, move, change your POV.  Get into that wheelchair and DRIVE yourself around.  Get a new hobby.  Take another look at your surrounding, then expand them through hobby.  Photography is good as it lets you and others sea that NEW perspective.  Motion lets us experience life.

Kathryn I was happy to hear you found a Quad.  NOW you can move with life, look at it in a different way.  You can again LOVE your life.  Mobility is good for the body and the SOUL.  Try taking your quad into the desert a mile or two away from home one evening.  Take Dale along.  Watch the sunset, enjoy a drink and watch the stars appear.  Listen to the life around you, hear the coyotes chasing rabbits.  Sea the satellites as they track along the night sky.  Hug Dale and tell him your life is so much better this week.  Motion is LIFE.  And your life is again in MOTION.  Enjoy every day the Lord bestows upon you amiga, live your life to its fullest.  And thank you for being a friend.

People this is for all of YOU too.  Get off the couch, find a way to move.  Find a new passion, make it happen.  You can do it.  If you need help let me know.  We will figure it out, you must have an option or two.  Motion, keep moving.  LIVE life, yes you can.  Live the life you love and LOVE the life you live.



Hiccup, hiccup the lowly hiccup.


The hiccups have started, hiccup!  Not feeling well.  Too much food?  Indigestion?  You ask your self what is going on, why me?  Each hiccup can be explosive.  You feel them in your diaphragm.  The lower back and ribs contract with each and every one.  You ask when are they going to stop.  They hurt little the first few hours.  All you want is for them to stop.  Days later they will give you no rest, day or night.  On and on they keep marching into your miserable life.

The beguinning f a bad day in Baja
Hiccups have started

You try drinking water up side down.  You breath in a paper bag.  Someone suggests peanut butter.  You give it a try.  Holding your breath, rapid breathing nothing seems to slow them down.

Nothing seems to work, they just keep coming.  You sneeze, they are gone for a minute or two.  Then back with a vengeance.  You go to bed that 1st night, hoping they will disappear in your sleep.  Good luck with that.

What sleep?  Did not happen.  EVERYTHING hurts with each hiccup.  Its 5 am and the dawn of a new day.  You view the sunrise and hope for a better day.  26 hours have passed.

You have been in paradise for a week of a planned two-week fishing venture.  Baja is warm and inviting as the sun rises.  The hiccups continue, it is now day two, at 8 in the morning.  30 hours and counting.  Decision time.

Day break, decision time

Leave Gonzaga or tough it out.  Lucky my friends made the decision for me.  By 9 am we were on our way back to So. Cal.  Thank you Dave and Robert.  Very wise of you, to get me home.

I would have chosen to stay in my beloved Baja.  By 3 pm we arrived in Vista Ca. at Tri City Hospital.  The hiccups continued all the way to the hospital.   There is no cure for the lowly hiccup.  Old wives tails but no cure.  Lot’s of advice but no cure.  Maybe Karma can help?  I hope so.

Day three, all lab work ups are back.  Hiccups, yes you got them.  Infected foot, still infected.  Diabetes under control.  Yep your still have the hiccup contractions.

Very fitful sleep, hiccup, hiccup.   Non stop 24 hours a day.  OUCH.  They put me on anti biotic for the infection. Thorazine for the hiccups, not helping.  I ask the doctor for something else.  He said sorry, tough it out.  No trip to Gonzaga for him.  His karma level is low, as is his be side manner.

Day 7, 6 am, I waken to no hiccups,  An hour later they are back.  hiccup, burp, hiccup.  Will it never end?  Last night I finally got some sleep for a few hours.  Maybe, I can only hope.  Hiccups be gone, please?

Day 9,  hiccup, hiccup, hiccup.  11 am they are gone for 3 hours, I hold my breath.  5 pm they are back for about 10 minutes.  Gone again.  I get a GREAT nights sleep.  Maybe the end is in sight?

There was no DAY 10, they have left the universe.  Gone, disappeared, but NOT forgotten.  Will they return?  Time will tell.  No idea where they went.  Glad they are gone, but for how long?

Maybe tomorrow, or next week, or never.  No body know, why they come into our lives.  Where or why they leave is a mystery too.  For a while they were my friends.  They let me KNOW I was alive.  Do I or will I miss them?  Maybe not, they ruined a trip to Baja.  And now I have to take anti biotic every day for 2 months.

Baja at New Years is calling.  Foot, please heal up fast, infection BE GONE for good this time.  Gonzaga calls every morning and night.  57 days and counting.  All because of my friend the lowly HICCUP.  Some friends you keep close.  Others like the hiccup are best kept at arm’s length.  YES they made me feel alive, but my ribs are still sore a week after they disappeared.  Good bye amigos, with luck we will not soon meet again.

In the mean time I will work on my KARMA levels.  Karma is key to most things in life.  Good Karma and health go hand in hand.



Vaquita almost EXTINCT

Another poorly waged battle fought and the war was LOST to our greed.  Another SPECIES dead.  For what?  WHY?

NOW that there appears to be less than 30 Vaquita still alive in the WORLD.  Little can be done to save them.  Small, shy, but beautiful, the Desert porpoise were awesome to sea in the wild.  Their flattened face and racoon like eyes are easy to spot.  Mom’s with their pups not much larger than a football were not an uncommon site in the past.  They were often seen around the San Felipe area.

I saw my first one as a child fishing with my dad and grandpa.  We were on a panga outside San Felipe in 1958.  The panga driver pointed them out to me.  They were quickly gone, very shy.  In 1995 I found one on the beach at Las Encantadas, dead after a storm.  I buried it in the dunes behind mako-ville.

Our brothers and sisters of the sea gave their lives for a Asian aphrodisiac.  Human greed and pleasure killed them.  I am so disappointed in our species.  Will we never learn?

In weeks there will be an attempt to capture the few remaining individuals.  We the arrogant beings we are, will try to breed them in captivity.  If we caught EVERY Vaquita,alive and unstressed there is not enough genetic material to keep their Species alive.  Cross breeding with other small harbour porpoise  whole just give us another hybrid.  The Vaquita as a SPECIES would be gone.

And what pressures would be put on the new Vaquita half-breed?  How long would the new group last before they too were exploited?  WE are killing our planet with our GREED.  The oceans are dying.  Toxic waste is every where, over fishing, trash, our SEAS are dying.  WHEN they DIE so do we!

Maybe the world would be better off without us?  Excuse me for loosing direction.  The Vaquita are gone and I for one am saddened to the bottom of my soul.  WE did this.  WE have not done our part to save them.  Good bye my brothers and sisters in the Sea of Cortez.  I for ONE will miss you.  And many others too.  Bye, Bye.  Yes I am crying, and I know not for whom.

Million Dollar TRASH

As a Vietnam Veteran it sickens my to see what is happening to our current  Middle Eastern Veterans and ACTIVE duty military.  Our POLICE and FIREMEN, all being disrespected by million dollar trash.

Million Dollar TRASH you ask, YES that is the NFL.  Some will disagree and I respect your opinion.  But I got furious watching players disrespect our country.  You fight for a piece of pig skin, TRASH, while we fought and fight for YOU, so you have the freedom to………………………….disrespect me and our country.  IF you wear pants I bet you put them on the same way I do.  But maybe you don’t wear pants?

Enough, time things change.  I PLEDGE to NEVER again watch or go to an NFL event or game.  UNTIL the NFL cleans up their act.  Heavily fine, suspend or cancel contracts of your players.  Get the TRASH out of YOUR house.  I will miss the pro’s, but a LOT of time the High School and College games are better played with out the drama.

I call on each of us to stand up and VOTE to NOT watch this Million Dollar TRASH, turn off the  NFL.  Hit them where it hurts, boycott  their games, watch other things on your television.  Slow down their cash flow.  Tell them you to are fed up with the disrespect!

Veterans know we all gave some, but some gave their all.  For you, for 30K a year.  What did an NFL player give?  For their million dollar a year contracts some of these just show contempt and disrespect.  In the hood that same disrespect would get YOU DEAD.  Some players are better, however they need to get their teams in order.  I hope they too will help get rid of the MILLION DOLLAR TRASH.

I for one will return when the TRASH is gone.  We LOVE you NFL, clean your house.


Make a difference in someone’s life.  Your dad, brother, daughter or friend.  When was the last time you took YOUR dad camping or fishing, how about just a walk in the park?  Maybe a softball game with your daughter or a night at the fights with your brother?  Life is short, we never know what the future holds in store for us or them.

Your best friend Tom moved to another state 3 years ago.  Call him and set something up.   Your wife needs a break, take her to Vegas.  Even better yet do something for someone you do not know.  Join HOW and spend a day mentoring a Veteran.

The CHOICES are endless, the gains are many fold.  You get to spend time with someone special.  everyone’s batteries get recharged.  Happy wife happy life.  Memories are made, friendships are reinforced.  You are no longer EXISTING, you are living life.  You and your family are happier, you shared the GOOD TIMES.

Choose to live a fuller life, spend moore time with your family.  Just do it!  EVERYONE wins, be they family, friends or strangers.  But the biggest winner is the rest of the world as they follow YOUR example.  All because YOU choose to make a difference .  Thank you for being a mentor.  Tight Lines amigos.

Poetry from Daniel Powell


A collection of Ocean related poems from the prolific mind of a friend, Daniel Powell.


Big Blue

Charging ahead, the churning freight-liner

was flashing purple neon like a nineteen-fifties diner

through pectoral fins splayed wide and stable,

taking flight with one swift thrust of its tail.

The great fish bolted skyward, shaking itself free

earning a brief education of man’s evil trickery—

The long days and nights spent in precise preparation;

The short, frantic battle that followed such long anticipation;

The savings spent on food, fuel and a plethora of bait;

The hiring of the boat, a sturdy captain and one sober mate—

All of this lost in no more than just a few seconds,

yet the thrill of fighting another big blue marlin beckons.         

       Daniel Scott Powell, 1-7-2014


I once caught a fish that looked up at me and said…

I once caught a fish that looked up at me and said,

“Hey, buddy, I’d rather be alive than be dead!

So if I wasn’t captured to cook and to eat,

there are a few rules to ensure my safe release”

It then took the hook gently from its lip,

held it out for me to see and very smartly quipped,

“That barb is mostly what’s the matter

if I wasn’t meant for hot oil and fluffy batter!

Please take pliers, and crimp that menacing thing!

They’re hard on the gills and they really, really, sting!”

It then slid slowly back down into the water

and gurgled, “And don’t just toss me, I’m no circus otter!

Kindly hold me upright, and cradle me in the current,

until I catch my breath because I am truly spent.

Then when I’m ready and I’m able, you will know.

When I’m steady and I’m stable, just let me go.”

The fish swam away then, feeling vindicated,

even after having been so easily fooled and baited.

Nowadays, I apply these rules as often as I can

so my grandchildren can enjoy being avid fishing fans,

and it’s only fair to grant clemency, once given some judicious thought,

to give a fish a chance, at least, once it’s been hooked and fought and caught!                            

Ocean missed…

 Frigates dance wildly in flight in my mind,

 swooping low, darting wide, daring to climb

 into a sky sun-wrapped in warm blue respite

 from thunderous rain the previous night.

 The smooth swell calmly glistens of life held within

 as it shines, reflecting a low-gliding pelican  

 wing-wafting scents of tropical sea air

 as fresh and as real as if I were there.

 My feet might find the warm sand welcoming,

 If not just fantasy of cold-climate suff’ring

 land-locked by demand and long-shoed unfree—

 they often walk barefooted through my mind to the sea.    

                      Daniel Scott Powell, 12-31-2013




“Oh no!” They shouted,  

and truly meant it 

as the rod doubled over

toward the fish that bent it.

The reel protested

in a high-pitched whine,

as the speeding torpedo

depleted insufficient line.

While the mate stared, rapt,

wide-eyed in wonder,

hoping the fish wouldn’t come up

but would rather stay under,

it seemed to be saying,

at fifty miles an hour,

going away ever faster,

and with even greater power:

“Hi there, nice folks! I was simply passing through.

I didn’t expect the snack, which was so very kind of you!

Pleased to make your acquaintance, I’m Mister Wahoo,

and I’ll be long, long, gone…. in just a second or two!”                          


                            Daniel Scott Powell, 1-17-2014

A Pelicans Lot


Amazingly, the pelicans dove in unison,

into shallow water, yet but a second apart,

all six of them seeking grunion

or anything, really, before it darts

away to find some other predator

for a baitfish’s’ life is given to the needs

of the basses, flatfish and albacore;

 to everything in the ocean that feeds.


The pelicans plunge in and bob over

like ungainly bathtub playthings,

each spilling a gallon of sandy seawater,

barely hanging on to one or two skinny sardines.

But this, their life, has been chosen

by larger powers and greater schemes,

 at least they’re not yet eaten or frozen;

A pelicans lot might’ve been worse, it seems.


                                           Daniel Scott Powell, 1-5-2014

The Beauty of it.

This piece was written by a friend of mine who lives and writes in San Quintin.
Jesus and Chabo have a small ranch along the road between me and town. Their cement house is palapa-roofed and has the usual assortment of lean-to add-ons for comfort. There is a little shaded veranda under a Brazilian pepper tree that might have sprouted before the English farmers failed in the nineteen-teens. The menagerie collects, usually, under the peppertree shade next to the house at its downwind end just off the dusty two-track.
The two men are half-brothers and have wives and kids, are somewhere in their late 40s, and they keep cattle, goats, pigs and chickens there on the property. There are several dogs that live there, too. Some hearty, some a bit run-down and mange-ridden. Still, everybody always looks happy when I go by. I once saw one old cat in the mix of animals that are always in the roadside next to the house. An old male, it looked like a survivor but a part of the extended family.
I often stop as the older brother, Jesus, likes to visit with Flash and get him to shake ‘paws’. Flash usually gives a little whine and wag of the tail if he sees Jesus as we are going up the road and then looks over from the passenger seat at me like “Aren’t we going to stop? Don’t be rude, Daniel. I know you are going to stop.”
Flash is like that, he tries to direct the direction of the director in hopes of one day actually chasing a rabbit across the fields in the Jeep. As fast as he is, he cannot catch one alone. I haven’t acquiesced to his rabbit-chasing addiction, but we do stop and visit folks on his queue at times. Jesus says he rides like ‘un hombre grande’; sitting upright, head up, observant and calculating in his seat. He does.
Yesterday, Chabo was tending a small mixed group of goats and cattle that were free-grazing in a weed choked field not far from their pens. He was leaning on his staff and slurping down a Bud Light as we rolled up. I stopped to chat a bit (he doesn’t say much to Flash) and we started talking about goats. I was interested in how much one of the kids could eat and how many, say, and how long it might take to clear a half-hectare of weeds to the nubs. He said two medium goats could do it in a couple weeks.
Always the upsell. The kids are 700 pesos and the yearlings ready for the grill are 1,500. I said fattening them up myself and getting the yard mowed sounds cheaper in the long run. He laughed and agreed. Though the valley is full of weeds from the decent rains this winter, I invited him to bring his goats by anytime, I have plenty of work for them. He replied, “It’s a mile away and a long walk, they’ll work off what they eat by the time I get them home.” His Bud Light fell to the roadside empty and I handed him a cold Corona. “No mas bueno de esta” I said, pointing to the empty, “pero es frio y suficiente”. Again, he laughed and agreed.
I stop at times and share some fresh fish with them and know if I needed it, they’d have no problem passing me a chicken or two, some eggs or maybe even a goat.
There is little noise here but the natural; an occasional passing car on the road so rough it is a part of the Baja 1000 course, and passes the ‘drive’ 100 yards to the east of the house, or the hum of the pangas passing in the bay, going fishing or returning from. Once a week or so, a plane’s propeller cuts the air overhead and on very calm days I can hear the trucks on the road to La Chorera, some three miles or so across the bay though sounding like they are pulling up a driveway that doesn’t exist. And I can hear the muffled thump thump of the usual Latin beat reflecting across the still night water from the Old Mill in the evenings as patrons enjoy happy hour.
But mostly, it’s birds of all kinds; the winter brant geese and resident pipers, cormorants, seagulls, terns, birds of prey, jays, wrens, quail and dove, to name a few, that provide the soundtrack that runs day and night here on the bay. The view is often jarringly beautiful in its trance-producing majesty; the bayscape backed by volcanoes hosts brilliant sunsets from the west and reflects clear when the sun rises in the east unabated by cloud cover while highlighting every mountainside detail in the yet unfussed morning air.

It may get cold and blustery one week and stifling warm another here, but that is just the weather. The place and the people are the difference. That’s the beauty of it.

Dreams, in the begining


Some of you know the story, FOR THOSE WHO DON’T, HERE IT IS.

21 years ago I started working on a project in Baja, starting to build a place for my retirement. Got a slab built and a septic tank installed before my new wife decided she did not like it. I walked away. Jump forward to 2013. I met ROBMONEY  on He had just returned from San Quintin. We talked and went together to San Quintin to help someone else who had a dream. Tony’s dream was mothership trips to San Quintin. The 3 of us are actively working on that DREAM now. That was in November. After the Jan ASUNCION trip Rob started talking about one of his DREAMS. Getting a piece of property in Baja. Said he found a place in Gonzaga and needed a partner. Site un seen, I said yes.

Here is where it gets strange. I could not find it on google earth, he showed me video of the place. I had told him that years ago I started a project near there. His project/DREAM is very close to my old project. How close you ask?

His project-his FRIENDS house-My old project are ALL NEXT DOOR to each other. It was not at Gonzaga but 10 miles north, on the beach north of Punta Bufeo. He did not know where he actually was until he checked his notes from the last trip, km 134. I finally put it all together the other night. I stayed in his friends trailer on my trips to build my DREAM 20+ YEARS AGO.

We are going down with his friend who’s GRAND FATHERS DREAM was the house in the middle of ours. On the 8-9th of Feb. To lease one or both places. That is not only KARMA but FATE. All because of four different DREAMS, of four seperate people, over many YEARS.

LUPE, the GRAND FATHER was instrumental in me getting started on my DREAM. I was visiting with a friend and met him on the beach there. He showed me the lot next door and offered to let me stay at his place while working on mine. Thus my DREAM started. We lost contact over the years. LUPE is going with us on the 8th of Feb.

DREAMS can come true, not always when we want, but FATE and KARMA are real. Do not be afraid to DREAM my friends. What goes around, comes around.
ALL of you, DREAM your DREAMS and stay true to yourself and your family and friends. And if YOU ever have the chance to help others with their DREAMS……….maybe a little of that GOOD KARMA will stick to you too.

I first sent this to five good friends, because we all have DREAMS, and you all deserve to attain them. Some of us already have. Tony, Rob, Lupe, Wade, William, you might not know each other now, but you will all meet in time. James, Sven, Janine, Jeff and Ross I hope that you too will come to realize YOUR DREAMS. Personally, I am very pleased to see you active in OUR community. Well done my friends.

To everyone else on BWE please join with us, your families and friends, DARE to DREAM. DREAMS can be realized. EVERY PERSON on BWE helped Rob and me to get to where we are now. Without BWE this story would have had a very different outcome. We hope you all enjoy the results of both our DREAMS and YOUR OWN. This IS NOT the end of our story, there are other DREAMS for us to follow and hopefully be a part of. DREAM ON EVERYONE!!!!!!

This all happened three years ago.




Church of Mako-ville

Our Church exists where ever in the world you happen to be.   Usually it is found outside in a natural environment.  Paddle your kayak down a river or on the open ocean.  Walk a forest trail, drive a desert road, open your eyes to a star filled sky, stroll along a beach at night in the full moon.  Take a walk in the rain and tell me life is not enjoyable.  When in a natural setting it is hard not to get in touch with your inner self and the guiding light in your life.  It does not matter who you pray to, but commune with them.  Open your heart to life and commit to living every day to its fullest.  Now help your family and friends reach that same level of existence.  You are living in the Church of Mako-ville.

I find it impossible to look up at the stars at night in Baja and not know in the depths of my soul that others are looking right back at us.  What would they think of the way we are nurturing this space ship of ours?  Our stewardship could be so much better.  Just look at our oceans, we fill them with trash, sewage and then over fish them.  They are dying, but do we stop, nope we do not.  Our oceans are dying and as they die so does the rest of our world’

YOU and I together can change this .  Most of us are fishermen of one kind or another.  Each of us can play a small part in turning these trends around.  Do not litter anywhere as most of it ends up in the ocean.  Pick up the trash you sea.  Practice catch and release, or make sure to fully utilize the fish you keep, and  encourage others to do the same.  Set an example for others to follow, and praise them for it.  OUR oceans are dying as I type this, for real, not FAKE.  If we all do a small part, others might follow our examples.

It is true our world IS dying.  If we all reduce our footprint things will be a little better.  Ride with a friend, paddle, pedal your yak, if you need a boat, smaller engines are moore efficient to operate.  Go off grid, use solar and wind if you can, they are renewable.  Shower with your steady, water is precious.  Every little bit helps.  Do your part and educate others.  The Church of Mako-ville is open at all.  It is a state of mind, and a way of thinking and living life to its fullest.  Services held daily, hopefully every time you step into nature, much better if shared with family and friends.  This is your church, no collection plate will be used.  Help make all of our lives better and our world too.  Tight Lines amigos.

Above is a lost soul, NOT.  Jim is watching nature on our way to CoCo’s Corner.  The new paved road from Gonzaga to Chapala is about a year away (2018) from completion.  That will connect the Sea of Cortez to Mex 1 and thus to the Pacific side.  The bad thing is is will bypass CoCos Corner.