The shoreline got rougher. It looked possible to land on gravel pockets here and there, but the water looks rougher. The coastline is facing more to the west again but I have a big hook of a bay at San Jose del Faro to land in. I expect an easy landing and relax. My map is incorrect, it shows a light at a small point named San Jose that is north of the bay. But the light is on the point protecting the big bay and the locals later assured me that the map was wrong and this is San Jose del Faro.
As I came around the point into the bay, a monster set of waves followed me. I backed over the first wave, then had time to strap down my chart case and canteen. When the second wave arrived I was ready to paddle and catch it! I rode it 100 metes or so into the bay and close to the beach. Perfect surfing ride, green water, in control, straight down the wave before and after it broke. I slipped off the wave near shore so I could work my way east to some dunes that looked good for camping between. After I landed a truck full of pescaderos stopped by. Pablo invited me to dinner with them (using excellent English). “What time?” “Oh, around sunset.” I had plenty of time to find a place between the dunes and set up camp.
Dinner turned out to be turban snail quesadillas, fried abalone, home made wheat tortillas (made while you watch) and re-fried beans. YUM! The fishermen asked me if I knew what the fried dish was and laughed when I shouted out “ABALONE!” with gusto. Dinner was cooked in a travel trailer parked in the fish-camp and the cook was the wife of one of the fishermen. She cooked for everyone and I suspect there was some sort of payment arrangement for this. Pablo may have been dinged for inviting this hungry gringo to dinner.
Pablo is an interesting guy. I thought having dinner with the pescaderos would help me improve my spanish. But I think Pablo was starving for some English speaking company. He was raised nine years in the USA and went to public schools all that time. Then the INS found him and his mother and sent them back to Mexico. Now he is living in a tent on the beach half the year working as a hand on other people's pangas. It looks like a hard life. He seems very sharp and casually says things like “sharks evolved millions of years ago”, but he says that's just National Geographic TV speaking. He sees TV the other half of the year when he lives in Encenada where his mom runs a resaurant. I left him my email address for the next time he is in Encenada, but he has not contacted me yet.