We'll Meet Again at UMAR Huatulco

Here's a big shout to all our friends, students and colleagues from UMAR Huatulco.

It has been too long since we've seen each other and it will be a while yet before we return. You are never far my thoughts. I hope everyone is safe and healthy.

This wonderful song from Vera Lynn is a promise to survive through difficult and dangerous times. Sing along . There are subtitles.

Lyrics: We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through, just like you always do
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say Hello, to the folks that I know
Tell them I won't be long
They'll be happy to know, that as you saw me go I was singing this song
We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

And remember, if someone is standing close enough that you can smell their breath, step away immediately. Not everyone cares enough to be careful with other's health and safety so, remember, you have to protect yourself.

The Far Side of Santa Cruz

 Last Wednesday, I checked off an old item from my bucket list.  I've been whimsically toying with the idea of exploring the small beaches on the other side of Santa Cruz, past the cruise ship wharf, for years.  I mentioned it to William the previous morning and he was interested so we called Isaac and off we went.   The first beach gets a little traffic but not too much.  It's perfect for families with small children.  The water isn't very deep and they are no waves to speak of.

Even at 8:30 AM, it's very quiet here.  You can say that about all of Huatuclo these days but I think that's normal for this quiet little cove.  There's a great boat launch here for small craft.

The canal from the marina is right on the other side of that red beacon light.

Here we are prepping for our journey.  People can rent kayaks somewhere around here.  That's the usual way for visiting the series of tiny beaches.  As far as I know, people don't swim out there too often.

Here we are resting at the sixth beach.  Will doesn't rest for very long.

Will and Isaac both brought googles for the trip.  I wish I had too because once you're past the second beach, there is a coral reef all the way to the end and there is so much to see.  Will, sharp-eyed as ever, spotted a child's snorkeling mask with a broken strap at the bottom so I could just hold it up too my face and take short peeks of everything down there.  Next time, and there will be a next time, I'm bringing my goggles.

I think this is beach number 5.  Apparently all of these beaches have individual names but there was no one there to tell us and no signs.

Group shot.   That was a fun day.  Thanks, Isaac for sharing some of your great pics.

Turbulent Times in Huatulco 2020

For the longest time since quarantine, we could only see the ocean from a distance.  Here's Santa Cruz from the lookout point.

Santa Cruz was spooky.  Even construction had taken a break.

This strange empty place is Santa Cruz.

From an early morning bicycle ride up to the other Santa Cruz lookout, this is a so far undeveloped cul de sac that splits off from the main street of hotels and upscale homes.

And there is a welcome socially distanced peek at the ocean again.

I rode the scooter one afternoon down the oceanfront cul de sac that offers a view of Playa Chahue.  There wasn't a soul to be seen except for the lone policeman in the lifeguard chair, whose job was to keep people away from the beach.  He got on his megaphone and announced "Quedate en su casa!"  I think he meant me.  I didn't stick around to confirm that.

Finally, the beaches were officially re-opened but not all of them.  What a relief.  I found out later that some people had been swimming there for weeks ahead of official sanction.  Unlike Chahue, there hadn't been anyone stationed there to chase them away.   I knew some people were escaping to some of the hidden beaches like Violin.  You'd see cars parked in front of the trails.  Honestly, I had been tempted more than once myself but in the end, I didn't want to be responsible of a total breakdown of social distancing so I sighed and waited.

In the morning, there are so few people there.  It feels safe.

Open or not, they kept the banner banning access up for a few more weeks.  No sense in encouraging everyone.

In the evening, it's a bit more popular.  After all, what is better after a long hot day?  Nothing.  It's not exactly like the beaches of Florida we've seen in the news but I counted too many heads in the water for my comfort zone and I turned around to go home. 

Just as with other places that emerged from lock-down, it wasn't long before some people seemed to think the crisis is over and acted accordingly.  Yikes.  I decided to upgrade my personal security.

Opening the beaches was the best thing to happen to me.   I had a new routine of swimming early in the morning when there were fewer people splashing about. 

I had just returned from the beach and gotten comfortable with a coffee and a comic in my front patio when the earthquake hit.  There is no good place to be in an earthquake but I couldn't have been in a better place.  The plastic sun roof over my head would at least have deflected and delayed any crumbling chunks of concrete shaken loose.  Generally, people like to get out of their homes in an earthquake but the narrow street I live on wouldn't have offered much safety.  I would be worried of power cables falling on me.

Texting back and forth began immediately.  There wasn't a lot of damage to the house I live in but a lot more things hit the floor than the last big one in 2017.  A  friend assured me that 7.4 was bigger than the last time we all thought we were going to die.  The evidence was about two liters of cooking oil spilled all over my floor.

Another friend told me the precise location of where the earthquake began was about a 5 minute ride by scooter from where we live.  It really couldn't have been closer.

Naturally, all my neighbors were upset.  Most of us were still shaking even after we had reached some inner calm.

I had to ride my bicycle away from my street because I wanted a cigarette more than anything else and you could smell propane from at least one broken gas line.  When I returned, the firemen had it all under control.  These pictures can't convey how severe that earthquake was.  Huatulco in general didn't receive that much damage.  Mostly it was the terracotta roof tiles and I think everyone had a new crack in the wall somewhere.  I think that's a testament to how well these buildings are constructed.

Although the quake began in Huatulco, not every town was as lucky as we were.  Some small mountain towns were absolutely demolished.  Here's Berenice and two of her friends who helped organize a collection of emergency supplies for one of the hardest hit towns.

It's not over yet.  Stay cool, be patient and be careful.