Montezuma, Zane Grey, and Ixtapa Island

I was getting settled in now, and had basically become resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be eating much on this trip. We had another lazy day by the pool, again plying through my Clapton book.

I ventured down to the ocean on this day. For those of you who read this blog on occasion you are well aware of my "general hesitation" when it comes to the ocean, and never in my life have I been deeper than my ankles when it comes to conquering the ocean blue. I stepped in and was amazed at the warmth, it had to be 10 degrees warmer than the pool. I surveyed the area and noticed the shark net surrounding about a one acre spot of water. I also noticed the fat babies floating in their water wings in the surf and made the quick deduction that a shark would far prefer the veal like texture of a child than my toxified flesh. I sparked a smoke, and with my plastic cup of courage (daiquiri) I waded out to my waist as the rolling waves splashed off of my chest. I was quite enjoying the moment when another member of our group waded out to where I was. It was the typical small talk type thing. How nice the weather was, how warm the water was, etc. etc.. I offered my shark affliction to him, and noted how I felt better with the shark net around me. He gave me a puzzled look for a moment, and then asked what I meant. I pointed to the rope a few feet away and restated how comfortable I felt behind the net. He walked over and picked the rope up, showing me that it wasn't a net at all but rather a barrier for keeping dumb tourist away from the rocks. I exited the water cartoon like, surrendering both my cup of courage and my cigarette to the surf.

I figured something else out on this day as well. While I am in no way fluent at Spanish, I am able to get by in simple day to day conversations. But for some reason when the staff at the resort started talking to me, I started replying in french. This carried on for the entire week. It was as if my wiring had been crossed at some point. I would consciously have the proper word in my mind, but once my lips parted...french it was. Odd.

We took it fairly easy that night as we had to be up for the fishing charter at 5:30 in the morning. I decided that I would try to force myself to eat, so we ventured to an "Italian" restaurant they had in the resort. I knew I couldn't be adventurous, so I simply got a Caesar salad I made myself, and had them make me some Pasta Alfredo at the pasta bar. The Alfredo sauce had the consistency of water, and could have only been made with milk and butter. Apparently garlic and cream had not been introduced to this part of the world. I ate about half of it and shoved it aside. It looked like I was going to have to fill up on fruits again (Daiquiri's).

I was feeling a little "iffy" later and decided to retreat to my room to await the fate that was my 40th birthday. The midnight hour passed and the day was finally upon me. I had always had this thought that when I got to this point I would be visited in my dreams by someone like my Grandfather, or my old mentor Roger Bowman, who would provide me with the secrets I would need to complete this ride. It wasn't to be, I did get visited, but it was by Montezuma himself. I spent my birthday night the sickest I had ever been in my life. I wanted to die. The morning came cruelly fast. I had no idea how I was going to make the charter.

I called Steve's room to wake him up, and tried to get myself sorted. This was going to take everything I had. I went down to the lobby and outside where even the sun wasn't foolish enough to be up yet. We caught a crazy cab ride down to the fishing village that is Zihuatanejo. We made our path through the various fishermen offering their boats, and the heavily armed Federalies whose purpose I wasn't quite sure of. We walked down the pier until I saw the stern of the Elva II running a few feet off the pier. I gave the captain a nod and he slowly backed the boat up until we were able to jump on. The captains name was Issac, and his deckhand was Jeronimo. Issac spoke really good English, Jeronimo...hmm, not so much. Unfortunately, neither of them spoke french.

We shoved off and made our way out to sea. It was sunrise now, and it was beautiful. The sun cracked over the mountains and spilled out over the hillsides and ocean below. The water was the most amazing shade of blue. Jeronimo immediately set to task, readying the bait and poles. I just sat back being taken by the beauty that developing before my eyes. My stomach wasn't letting me forget it, but the picture of nature was overpowering it to the best of its abilities.

By the time we got out of the harbour we already had two very strong bites from Mahi mahi's, but they got away before the hooks could set. Jeronimo seemed more disappointed than me. He definitely earned his money that day, even though ultimately we would return empty handed. We ended up about 30 miles off shore. It seemed we were almost in the horse latitudes, even under power there wasn't any wind. And the heat was building to its crescendo. Issac called me up to the flying bridge and explained how the currents were just not working today, they actually hadn't been working all week. I was enjoying the cruise so much, I really didn't mind going home empty handed. The dolphins were cresting the wake off the bow, and even a Right Whale decided to peek it's head up to see what we were doing. I was suddenly aware of what had drawn Zane Grey and Hemingway to this spot. It was far more than fishing, it was inspiration.



My stomach was going crazy, I had to eat something so I decided to take a peek at the box lunches the resort had made for us. I quickly realized that the resort must have had Jenny Craig running their kitchen. I pictured Kristy Alley needed to eat 10 of these just for a snack. But it was food, and for the most part it seemed like I was able to keep it down for which I am thankful.






After about 8 hours we made our way back in. The ocean won that day, but I too returned feeling like a winner. I got to spend my 40th birthday with a smile on face, albeit with a pain in my stomach. The pain in the stomach is gone, but the smile will always return when I think of that day.


To be continued....