Silly Gringos
My biggest hope is that they thought we were actually snorkeling recreationally there.
We were the only white people on the beach. Although I was pink. There were other people. Locals. They were shuttling back and forth off loading a fishing boat. There were refrigerated trucks on the beach and as soon as one was full it departed for La Paz about ten dusty miles away. The brown wives were busying themselves erecting tarps for shade to cook in. Men were zooming out and back to the big boat. Some of them were taking a break and drinking beer in the new shade. The kids, ranging in age from all the ranges available, toddler to teen were playing around in the water and messing around in our kayak. Bridget, Rachel and I were playing too. We were having an especially fun splashing festival.
It never did fit quite right. My knuckles are all fat from a childhood spent being a boy. It was beautiful and platinum. We had been married less than a year. It never had actually come off before. It just rocked around on my finger between the joints like an restless captive. We were going to get it refitted, someday. Never had to. Suddenly I froze and yelled for Bridget to do the same. The ring had gotten free. I'm sure it was sinking into the murk before we even stopped moving. I thought though that my only reference point would be Bridget. That's why I asked her not to move. Rachel brought me the snorkel and mask. I decided I didn't need the fins. I proceeded to look for the ring. We were in about two feet of water basically at the shore.
Maybe we were five feet out. The bottom was perfectly suited to never seeing a wedding ring again. Silty moving sand created little underwater dunes that were constantly changing with the rocking shoreline. Ugly little shore fish didn't even dart away, they just moved with the current, in and out, also. I went for quite a while. It was my less than year old wedding band after all. And my buoy of reference was my bride. You know, the person that picked and paid for it. I would have spent a long time anyway, but this inspired me to a greater time frame. I was snorkeling for a half hour to forty five minutes while the Mexican kids frolicked nearby. I didn't go further than I thought my ring could have. So, I snorkeled for three quarters of an hour in two feet of water, five feet from shore in a tight circumference around Bridget. I was quite oblivious to what was going on around me. Bridget stood there patient as a pier piling.
Eventually though I surrendered to the eventuality that was basically obvious after five minutes. That's the kind of thing that you either come up with the ring in the first minute or not at all. Ask me about Halsey's wedding ring story at Trevor's wedding sometime. We gave it up. We decided then and there not to let it ruin the day or the trip. We went up to the lone beach-side restaurant, the Giggling Marlin, and had a good lunch. Rachel hung me upside down from one of those things that fisherman hang their marlin from on the dock. Bridget took the picture. Jose motorboated us back down to the house.
We went into Los Barriles later that day. Like all tourist towns, there were hippies and locals making and selling jewelry on the streets. We looked for a temporary replacement. We perused a lot of people's work. We were about to give up and come away empty handed when we saw one we both liked. Tried it on. Fit better than my real ring ever did. We forked over seven big ones and I went home with a wedding ring. I'm still wearing it. Lots of people notice it and mention it. I get to tell this story. It's silver and it has two separate rings that are woven together in a really cool design. I say really cool design because I have no idea what kind of knot it is. We think it represents marriage well. That was five years ago.
Bridget remembers the place being called the 'Bahia de los Suenos, meaning Bay of Dreams and I remember it as the Bahia de los Muertos, Bay of the Dead. She's right. Like I said, I've been married five years now. It's the Bahia de los Suenos. and I just hope those kids thought we were snorkeling there 'cause we thought that's where you would snorkel.
Silly Gringos.
Picture Credit
We were the only white people on the beach. Although I was pink. There were other people. Locals. They were shuttling back and forth off loading a fishing boat. There were refrigerated trucks on the beach and as soon as one was full it departed for La Paz about ten dusty miles away. The brown wives were busying themselves erecting tarps for shade to cook in. Men were zooming out and back to the big boat. Some of them were taking a break and drinking beer in the new shade. The kids, ranging in age from all the ranges available, toddler to teen were playing around in the water and messing around in our kayak. Bridget, Rachel and I were playing too. We were having an especially fun splashing festival.
It never did fit quite right. My knuckles are all fat from a childhood spent being a boy. It was beautiful and platinum. We had been married less than a year. It never had actually come off before. It just rocked around on my finger between the joints like an restless captive. We were going to get it refitted, someday. Never had to. Suddenly I froze and yelled for Bridget to do the same. The ring had gotten free. I'm sure it was sinking into the murk before we even stopped moving. I thought though that my only reference point would be Bridget. That's why I asked her not to move. Rachel brought me the snorkel and mask. I decided I didn't need the fins. I proceeded to look for the ring. We were in about two feet of water basically at the shore.
Maybe we were five feet out. The bottom was perfectly suited to never seeing a wedding ring again. Silty moving sand created little underwater dunes that were constantly changing with the rocking shoreline. Ugly little shore fish didn't even dart away, they just moved with the current, in and out, also. I went for quite a while. It was my less than year old wedding band after all. And my buoy of reference was my bride. You know, the person that picked and paid for it. I would have spent a long time anyway, but this inspired me to a greater time frame. I was snorkeling for a half hour to forty five minutes while the Mexican kids frolicked nearby. I didn't go further than I thought my ring could have. So, I snorkeled for three quarters of an hour in two feet of water, five feet from shore in a tight circumference around Bridget. I was quite oblivious to what was going on around me. Bridget stood there patient as a pier piling.
Eventually though I surrendered to the eventuality that was basically obvious after five minutes. That's the kind of thing that you either come up with the ring in the first minute or not at all. Ask me about Halsey's wedding ring story at Trevor's wedding sometime. We gave it up. We decided then and there not to let it ruin the day or the trip. We went up to the lone beach-side restaurant, the Giggling Marlin, and had a good lunch. Rachel hung me upside down from one of those things that fisherman hang their marlin from on the dock. Bridget took the picture. Jose motorboated us back down to the house.
We went into Los Barriles later that day. Like all tourist towns, there were hippies and locals making and selling jewelry on the streets. We looked for a temporary replacement. We perused a lot of people's work. We were about to give up and come away empty handed when we saw one we both liked. Tried it on. Fit better than my real ring ever did. We forked over seven big ones and I went home with a wedding ring. I'm still wearing it. Lots of people notice it and mention it. I get to tell this story. It's silver and it has two separate rings that are woven together in a really cool design. I say really cool design because I have no idea what kind of knot it is. We think it represents marriage well. That was five years ago.
Bridget remembers the place being called the 'Bahia de los Suenos, meaning Bay of Dreams and I remember it as the Bahia de los Muertos, Bay of the Dead. She's right. Like I said, I've been married five years now. It's the Bahia de los Suenos. and I just hope those kids thought we were snorkeling there 'cause we thought that's where you would snorkel.
Silly Gringos.
Picture Credit
posted by Steve-O at 6:14 PM
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