Shore to Shore: Santa Cruz to Playa Entrega

I struck another item off my to-do list yesterday, swimming all the way from Santa Cruz to Playa Entrega, something that local athletes do routinely and a lot faster.  I know a student who can make the return trip in 45 minutes or an hour but he's a tri-athlete in a completely different league from the rest of us mortals.  For me, this was completely epic.  I have never swum this kind of distance so far from shore.

Will and I had warmed up a few days earlier by swimming to the distant buoy and back.  He has this high tech waterproof watch that measures distances and confirmed that the buoy trip is the same length as Playa Chahue, about 800 meters return trip.

Will had the plan.  Several people had agreed to go as a group for safety.  None of us were triathlon type swimmers so a bunch of swimming buddies would allow us to stay in a comfort zone when we were way out there.  Will had even planned for a paddle board as a safety net for anyone who got too tired but when he went to pick it up, the young guy at the surf shop doubled the price he had quoted the week before.  So much for that.  Maybe they have different weekend rates.

We waited around for an hour for people who never showed up.  It was seriously early for the first Saturday morning after exams.

Our first resting point is the buoy.  At this point, I hadn't realized that two of our party of five had changed their minds.  I thought they had already left us behind.

Jasmine and Will explain how to find the upcoming video in Spanish to a man who joined us as far as the buoy.  Pen and paper are things no one thinks to bring for a big swim so hopefully he remembered.  I think he would have liked to join us for the whole trip but he had a job to do somewhere.

This is where Will and Jasmine turned back.  Jasmine had foot cramps and Will wanted to see her safely back to shore.   That's what sensible people do.

I experienced 4 foot cramps myself before I reached Entrega but they didn't impede my swimming. 
They hurt as my big toe and its nearest neighbor twisted together but I could still kick and they disappeared after a few strokes anyway.

There is nothing like being alone in open water to make you feel small.

None of the passing boaters returned my wave, which doesn't make them snobs.  They just didn't see me and that's something to keep in mind when you're out in their playground.  It also means they are watching straight ahead as they should so it isn't too bad. 

A lot of this traffic can be completely avoided if you leave early enough.   Later in the day, jet-skiers
will be out and, fueled with beer and adrenaline, they might not be as sharp-eyed as professional tour boat operators.

That's Entrega, closer now than Santa Cruz.
 

At this point, I wasn't suffering muscle fatigue but I felt depleted.  That peanut butter sandwich at 530 in the morning was only a memory.  I didn't like the idea of swimming back in a weakened state.   I'd anticipated we'd probably want snacks at Entrega so I had packed some pesos in a plastic bag with a rock to keep it from floating away.  I had cab fare.   Otherwise, the only other alternative to swimming would have been walking 40 minutes along the hot road without a shirt in bare feet.

 

 

 

 

Whoo-ee!  Playa Entrega!

 

 

 

It's still early in the morning.  I don't think Entrega restaurants open for breakfast.  But wait.  Who's that.  Will and Jasmine came around by land to make sure I arrived.  With water!

 

 

It's nice to know people who would actually call the coast guard instead of just wondering "Whatever happened...?"

 

That's the whole adventure.  Back to Santa Cruz the easy way.  The return trip can wait for another day.

 

 

 

 

Finally, the video shot with the Sony Action Cam.  I recommend full screen on Youtube.

 



Road to Cacaluta

Tuesday was the first of the pandemic days. I found a message on my phone that morning from the night before. Cacaluta. 8:30. The idea was inspired. The time was a tad ambitious. I had breakfast, packed all my things and was on the road by 10:30ish. It’s not good to wait too long. The sun gets intense.


Cacaluta is quite the beach but we rarely go there because it isn’t the easiest to get to. Once you get to the park gate just down from the fork to Playa Maguey, it’s another 3 km over a rough road through the woods with a fair bit of beach sand to spin your tires on. That’s why most visitors arrive on ATVs or get dropped off by boat.

For me, the toughest part of the trek was the first major hill. I didn’t even try to tackle it. I just got off and walked the bike. It was way too early in the day to grunt my way up a steep mountain and this was the kind of trip that made you wonder if 2.5 litres of water was going to be enough.

I’d heard that Cacaluta was pegged for hotel development. The proof is there. Road improvements have begun. It’s only smooth dirt for now but the road has been doubled in width. Big concrete pipes for drainage are lined up on the side. That doesn’t mean it’s all going to happen overnight. It could be years ahead.

I came close to a serious wrong turn when I saw the sign that reads “Tanque Cacaluta”, pointing to the right.
I almost took it but it didn’t feel right. I came this way back in 2002 by taxi and it didn’t feel the same. Besides, I didn’t know what “tanque” meant. I still don’t. I was heading for Playa Cacaluta; close but not quite the same. My instincts were right. Just down the next hill was the fork was the fork for Maguey and Cacaluta. This was what I remembered. Don’t forget this if you ever pass this way.


The gate isn’t much further ahead.
Fortunately for me, there is a man working there in the shade behind a shack. Saul advised me to hop off the bike and take the trail straight through the woods instead of the 3 km. I was a bit dubious. Sure looked jungley in there. Saul assured me there were no snakes , which I didn’t believe for a second. I almost stepped on my first snake at UMAR last week, right on a red brick walkway. There are snakes in these woods. Whether or not they’re timid skinny yellow things like the one that ran for its life from me or twelve foot Mexican South Pacific rattlesnakes like the one stuffed in attack mode at the ROM in Toronto is all that really matters. I took Saul’s assurance to mean my chances of dying were slim. Much as I prefer 100% guarantees, I took the trail. I can be a fraidy cat but I try not to let it stop me from doing things. I took this pic of Saul before stepping in, possibly the last person I would ever see.


In I went.


If a snake wanted to get me, there was very little I could do about it. There were a lot of coiled and twisted vines, branches and roots in there, many of which looked like huge motionless snakes. This one was my favourite.
I approached it carefully, waiting for any sign of movement.

Besides the rustle of salamanders in the dry leaves and the music of the birds, I heard a larger animal crashing through the brush. Not moose or bear large, maybe something knee-high, probably with claws and teeth.
It was only a ten minute hike, fairly easy going with only the occasional stump or fallen tree to lift the bike over. Just before breaking out of the woods, there’s an old barb wire fence just a few more steps away from a wide open field and a small house. From there, you pass through a mango plantation and rejoin the road that others would have taken from the gate near its end.






I knew my friends were there. I’d passed their scooters back a bit but Cacaluta looked deserted. Way down by the rocks, I finally spotted some very tiny people playing Frisbee. They had set up camp between some rocks for shade.



Cacaluta feels like the end of the earth, especially when no one else is there. These pictures show less than half of its convex spear shape.

Phew!

Three weeks ago, my life of endless slacking finally came to an abrupt and overdue stop. I forced myself out of bed one morning well before the usual good and ready feeling arrived and it has been non-stop ever since. I was on the clock again.

I've been way too busy to update this blog. I tried yesterday on my lunch hour but it was down. All Blogger blogs were off the air. Hopefully I can connect today. Bad enough if this illustrated journal disappears off the internet but what about "PCL Linkdump", "Cosmobells" or "Data Junkie"? Those are blogs that really matter.

Emails? Hardly. I'm afraid I've lost touch permanently with some fun and interesting people I've met along the road. I've also had to bail on several social events in order to preserve my strength. I would have liked to join in the fun but I knew I'd be heading for burnout if I pushed myself any harder.

From Crucecita to Pochutla by cheap bus, to Puerto Angel by camionetta and on foot the rest of the way to the local UMAR, the oldest and biggest of three Oaxacan oceanside universities. They even have a pool.

Puerto Angel is so hilly. It was a long hot climb but I made it to campus on time. A few minor details had been forgotten but the people concerned were quite friendly and cooperative and didn't throw up barricades. They just said to bring the missing items to the administrators at my own UMAR in Huatulco. I met only one man who spoke English so I didn't know how well things were going until I found myself officially employed. Photocopy machines all over campus had been dying of heat strokes and they wanted triplicates of something or another so I had an hour to explore the hilly campus.




Finally they said I could go and wouldn't need to come back which might have been good or bad. For all I knew, I'd messed up the application process so badly, it was pointless to go back because the cause had been lost. Ah, worst case scenarios. They rarely happen but I like to prepare.










I took a lunch break down at the beach. Had a 5 minute splash after the waitress took my order. That's probably my last visit to Puerto Angel for a while. I finally got around to the sea wall walk from Playa Panteon, where all the snorkeling tours embark, to the main one with the wharf.





There's a little video to commemorate the day, music courtesy of the Cryptones, tapped off with a peek at Dr. Simi, the pharmaceutical mascot, dancing up a storm in Pochutla across the street from the bus station.


I made it back to Huatulco in time to take over my first class. It felt good to be a productive member of society again.

From then on, it's been hectic. My lunch breaks have been spent racing to different offices for various essential documentation or catching up with the new game as I'm coming into class in the latter third of the semester. Only once did I make it to the beach at lunch hour and I was running a fever that day. I couldn't let it stop me. Sometimes exercise is a better cure than bed rest. Had a great splash at Santa Cruz, cycled back to work, popped a couple of Tylenol before bed and woke up tired but less feverish.

I think all the daily rush business is just about behind me now. I feel settled in and almost organized. This a great place to be. The atmosphere on campus is very upbeat. Students, support staff and teachers all seem quite happy. Some of the teachers I work with have been here several years which says a lot in this high turnover business.