Tue 23/11-2021 Day 628

Pos: 16.6879,-99.5267
Loc: Perro de Agua
Acc: Hilleberg Allak 2 tent
Dist: 24,3 km
Start: 08:40 End: 13:50

A guy on a quad-bike stops and shines his light straight on my tent. It is eleven o’clock, and I am already sleeping. WTF…I shine back with my strong torch to see who is so naughty to disturb my beauty-sleep, and see a man in a decent poloshirt with some embroided logo on it. No policeman, I assume it is some guard from the nearby hotel.
Why do any kind of guards need to check on me during the night? I hate it when any so called authority wakes me just to ask if I am doing well – it is not the first time. What else other than sleeping would I be doing inside my tent in darkness with no light on? Sure, I could be dead or half-dead and need help, but for my opinion, they are just curious. I cannot recall much of our conversation as I am half asleep, I assume after his “Todo bien?” I just confirm. He asks how many people? Sure only one, and yes, it is a woman who hates to be woken at night. Fuck off and leave me alone! He does, after he took a picture of my kayak.
In the early morning hours, dense smoke of a trash burning site makes me almost coughing. Is that really coming from the nearby, quite fancy looking hotel? Maybe not. I plan to be on the water by first light and am awake even earlier from the stinky smell. But when I can see the surf, I need to realize that the morning highest high tide at six o’clock makes the surf belt not friendly enough to dare a break-out.
Ok…, but I will get up, pack and be ready anyway, as staying inside the tent in this smoke smell is yucky. I try reading while sitting on my kayak, but watching the surf developing to what I have encountered as doable yesterday is more exciting. One of those guards stops by and tries a friendly conversation. Is he the same guy form the night who has checked my website? I am not keen to find out. The smoke of the trash fire is still in my nose, and somehow the whole sea looks like the bad visibility comes from the smoke.
Finally, I drag my kayak about hundred meters furter south where I think launching is easier. At eight-thirty, two-and-a-half hours after high tide, I decide the launch is doable now. I drag my loaded boat to the water’s edge where the confused breaking last rollers are playing up criss cross. The wave period looks very short, and a timed launch is nothing worth due to the width of the surf belt.
When I manage to push in, I close my deck in a split second, pull my rudder and am ready for action. I have to tackle break after break one after the other, and sometimes two at a time forming a zipper line between the submerged sand banks. The surf is a mess but not too violent, but the last two or three rows, I urgently need to avoid breaking on top of me. Swimming far out here would not be my fancy. One of the last peaking swells I just about ride over with a big splashy jump down behind its crest, and the last two rows develop their break by rolling thankfully out just a few meters to my right. I can escape both to the left with pounding heart. I am out. It was much harder than it could have been with a bit more timing luck! But timing the whole wide belt is hard, you can only time the single wave, either waiting or sprinting.
Anyway, now it is paddling time on relatively calm open sea. My conclusion for today is that I better should land again well before the next hight tide, and likely also before the strong afternoon wind kicks in again and blows the break further up. Almost twenty knots sideways-onshore blowing up the surf belt are not within my comfort zone. I might paddle for a while in the soup zone after landing.
I pass the last rather smaller, but still fancy hotels and cross a wide river mouth with noticeable colder water. I assume the coast changes again after this small bent, and so it does. For a while, landing in the tiny surf looks dead easy. But it is too early to stop! I paddle on, and feel around eleven-thirty the wind starts to blow. I watch the surf developing nasty, and around one o’clock already, I start feeling uncomfortable out here. Hmmm…shall I land already? What’s it worth – the next three days will be much less windy in the afternoon, and I can still try paddling in the soup zone again.
My run in might have been as much of a bad timing like my launch. I have to hang in a high brace for a while and side broach on a foamy break into calmer water. I see a guy walking on top of the beach, at least I have a spectator for this stunt! But I better watch the flooded tree trunk I should avoid when I continue to paddle a bit in the soup zone. But it feels not good, the break is occasionally too violent close to shore, and too many sand banks are still exposed. I land, check the environment, chat with the guy who has his cabin just across the small inland water, but he talks much more than I can understand. Finally, I launch once more for more soup zone paddling, but the wind is strong and I still do not get the groove from yesterday. I decide to call it a day, the windy afternoon at the beach will at least not overheat me.
Thre guys stop by for a chat, a man on a horse, and two fishermen with those round throw nets and buckets walking up and down the beach. It seems to be here still an essential part of the diet of the village people. I see one good catch with a guy, but all small fish. I am spoiled to think of an edible fish only as of a nice large white filet, sealed frozen in plastic or from the supermarket counter…
When I watch the surf developing here in this beach section, it looks just the opposite from what I was experiencing yesterday. I was hoping this morning’s high tide smoothes out the break, but it was not. Here, the higher tide makes the surf almost disappearing, and I feel stupid to have landed already and made camp. But I am also tired from not enough sleep last night. I enjoy another fresh lemonade with one of the five small lemons I got as a fruity gift from Pável. Just the ice and maybe a tad bit of sweetener is missing…but this is better than NO lemonade, sitting on this open beach in the heat of an oven with the ventilator-wind turned on maximum! I have never made fresh lemonade myself on the beach, and at home it tastes fully different and is not tempting.
Tomorrow, I should last longer on the paddle with less afternoon wind and hopefully still easy surf in the rising tide. Time to reach the area with sheltered landings again…but nothing looks as bad as it did before Acapulco!