Picture is of the road into camp…

This would be an absolute paradise but for the past three days of high clouds.  I heard from a fellow camper, who spoke with someone (or someone who spoke with someone ;) ) on a ham radio that the clouds are from a storm hitting San Diego.  And pretty hard.  San Diego has hard a very difficult winter.  I can only hope it gets better for them. 

The sea is turquoise here, the sand is white, we find oyster and scallop shells (along with many other) and it is warm, though overcast.  It rained a bit today, enough for the girls and I to move to a palapa (palm leaved hut) and wait out the drops.  When we left Mulege (about 20 miles to the north; we don’t move far when we enjoy an area) we didn’t think we’d stay long at the beaches.  The day before we left, we drove down (there are about 8 or more beaches that people stay at) and figured this would be the best for our trailer and need for space.  It was one of the least populated beach for the ability of our trailer to manage the road in.  The boys are filling their days alternating between smashing glass bottles at the dump area, near a local fish camp, and crashing through the mangroves when the tide is out. 

There is little sea life to be seen here; I think all the fish are further out of the cove.  I checked the local fish camp’s catch this morning; about 7 or 8 sting rays, a large amount of red snapper, one trigger fish and a bunch of other fish.  Bass maybe.  Pike, Sissy, Ellen and I watched them emptying the nets, cleaning and carving up the fish and rays and Pike got a couple fish souviners (currently sitting in our fridge). 

We are camped on a sand spit which connects to an island at low tide. 

The island is covered with volcanic rock and many many shells.  I can’t figure out if birds are dumping the shells there or humans.  We have two immediate neighbors; everyone seems to be camped on this side of the spit as a wind break.  Our neighbor to the west has a windmill on top of his rig but reports it generates very little electricity.  He also has a Datastorm unit and we asked him to send a message to Dad that we’re here. 

We have been playing "tag" with our neighbors to the east; they camped next to us at Scammon’s Lagoon.  Like just about each and every other camper we’ve met, they are from BC.  For some reason, BC must empty out like the tide each winter, with a great amount of the population headed for Baja.  It is rare to see an American outside a caravan.