People love dogs.
Dogs behave as we humans should behave. They are loyal, patient, love unconditionally, and show affection.
Many retirees who pull their Rv’s to the Isla Blanca Park in South Padre Island, Texas do so because they don’t want to leave their dogs home with strangers or alone in a kennel with other dogs where they pick up a lot of bad habits. It makes economic and moral sense to take your dogs on vacation with you because dogs are family from the first day they adopt you.
This morning two adults walk two dogs. Even though leashes bind animals to their masters, one senses the leashes could be released, the dogs would scamper, but ultimately return to their masters sides where they belong.
This morning humans wouldn’t think about letting their best friends run away from their side.There is a $2000 fine if dogs are found running loose and the beach is patrolled by uniformed men in official trucks.
People love dogs more than money, but not by much.
Seagull Charley doesn’t come when you call his name.
Without a fish for Charley, he ain’t going anywhere and he won’t push tennis balls with his beak or do circus tricks.
This morning Charley strolls the beach watching for opportunities. What he catches is his and he will share only if he has a mind too.
There are dining opportunities on this beach all the way north to Corpus Christi and south to Mexico and when waves go out Charley quickly covers his little piece of real estate. He doesn’t own anything but his feathers but his basic rules are self preservation, having a full stomach, and taking care of Mama Charley and the kids.
When Charley leaves the beach and takes flight, this Padre Island strip of sand seems more isolated and less friendly.
In air, between sand and sea, Charley is free,and,oddly enough, it makes me feel free too as I watch him glide in the wind above me.
Wanting to fly has been a long time dream of our human species.
The San Pedro Town Catholic Church fronts the Caribbean Sea, just like every other bar, restaurant, and lodging in town..
As you walk the length of the beach you can look over a fence that separates church grounds from the beach and see cement seats and a statue of Virgin Mary.
Entering the church, in the front, is an inscription from Matthew , a Confessional, a Donation Box, and a clear view of a simple Sancristy. You enter and leave the church through Market Square that is filled with vendors selling trinkets, drunks sleeping off night’s excesses, tourists taking pictures, hangers on with no work and no prospects.
This is a quiet place to collect thoughts, remember those gone, rest weary feet .There is no one here to tell you you can’t be here, and, it doesn’t cost anything.
Along the top of the wall at the back of the church is wire left exposed with jagged edges.
The only way to come into this church is by the front door.
This morning Jose scampers up a coconut tree on the Island Academy grounds and separates coconuts from their necks.
They fall with a thud to the sand where he collects them, uses his machete to scalp them, then pours coconut water into plastic jugs that he sells for a couple of bucks a gallon. Under the authority of the Queen of England, the beaches, whatever washes up on the beaches, and whatever grows on them is fair game for the public. All he has to do is climb and get them. A competitor uses a twenty foot extension ladder to harvest nature’s crop but Jose climbs the old fashioned way.
When Jose climbs for his prize, he digs his feet into the coconut tree trunk and bows his legs. Then he extends his arms, holds on to the trunk, and pulls his legs up to his waist where he clamps them on the trunk again, extends his arms and hands, and repeats the process. His machete hangs on a rope tied to his belt loop. When he gets to the top of the tree he quickly cuts coconuts from their bunch with his machete.
He climbs down in reverse order, and, when he touches sand, he collects his coconuts and throws them over the fence onto the beach.
Business is brisk and a tourist from Ramon’s Village passes me with two gallon jugs, one in each hand. Coconut water is a health food favorite and reputed as some of the purest water on the planet.
Jose’s best scheme would be to train a monkey to do his job with a little knife in its mouth and a pirate bandana around his head.
All monkey’s should have to work for their coconuts.
According to Rabbit, retired bartender, Ramon’s Village is one of the better values in San Pedro Town. If you are coming to Ambergris Caye for a week and want to have convenience, service, good food, security, access to the water, a good home base for your explorations, nice accommodations, for a good price, Ramon’s is the place for you.
The resort burnt down several years ago and was rebuilt with work going twenty four seven. Ramon didn’t want to re- open but did anyway. His resort has an international flavor, and, unlike many lodgings on the island, is maintained by a full staff of worker bees.
Ramon’s is maybe not the best way to get to know the island, close up and personal, but lots of people visit San Pedro Town with no desire to move here and want the island to be accompaniment to their vacation instead of the melody.
Even Ramon himself, greeting breakfast diners, asks me this morning how I am doing?
I compliment his hotel and listen attentively..
Maintaining and managing a profitable business anywhere is worthy of respect.
Dog lovers often bring their dogs on vacation with them.
This little guy runs down the beach and his owners tell us, as we pass them, that he will swim out to get birds all the way to the end of the pier.
Down the beach, only moments ago, Rabbit and I met a local woman with a pooper scooper who said she was watching for the dog that poops on her yard each morning. She also tells us, matter of factly, that she has a loaded shotgun and would love to make her day and shoot the dogs owner first.
You Tube is where aliens can go to get a good read on our planet.
This little dog needs to be careful about his business.
Shotguns can take you all the way out of this life even if the human who pulls the trigger is half blind and drunk as a skunk.
In San Pedro Town this afternoon, after school, a couple of boys come up with their own game. Tarzan’s jungle can be any place on the planet as long as there is a little boy who puts two and two together.
One of the boys grabs one end of a dangling palm branch, holds on, then swings himself out over the beach and water and back to dry land. The branch might break and send him crashing but it is a risk worth taking.
While he swings, the other boy waits his turn.
A couple of girls, outside the picture, shake their heads and call the boy’s crazy.
And, we are.
There are at least two hundred invited guests but anyone can join this wedding..
Wayos is a popular beach bar in San Pedro Town and Wayo, pronounced Y -oh, is a popular owner.
When the groom arrives in a black golf cart limo, there is applause and cheers. As always, his bar is open and weather is uncooperative. It rains in spurts and people crowd under tents, roof overhangs, and in the bar to escape another torrential downpour.
The wedding ceremony is short and the couple recites handwritten vows under a big tent overlooking the Caribbean Sea.. They promise to honor and cherish and encourage and support each other, and, in front of important people in their life, draw a big heart in the sand with their names inside it.
Before, during, and after the ceremony, people re-connect. It is a close knit group on this Isla Bonita and meeting people is not difficult here. When people come here they cast time and routine out of the boat and lifting anchors that hold them elsewhere.
It is a good wedding and a happy time.
Nature isn’t co-operating but another lady well wisher, standing next to me, tells me it is good luck to be married on a rainy day.
If that is so, this couple will have enough luck to take care of all of us.
From eleven to twelve, the Walkaholics stroll from Crazy Canuck’s to Wayo’s without wetting a whistle.
From twelve to four, on the way back, there are stops at the Sandbar for drinks and lunch, Licks, the Runway Bar and Crazy Canuck’s for more drinks and toasts.
The sun and surf and sky give us a show.
We are numbers in a mathematical equation, written on a chalkboard, described by Einstein and Newton, buzzing in time and space like sand fleas on a great sand beach. The equation looks like a bird nest.
There are times when the universe’s mystery puts your skull in a nutcracker and cracks your head wide open until the confetti inside is picked up by the afternoon breeze and scattered.
Martial arts has moved forward since Bruce Lee dazzled with new fighting styles and choreographed movie fight scenes that are classics.
Now, real fighting happens on cable TV and the ancient ” Friday night at the fights” has been trounced by MMA cage fighting. This remains the most brutal action available and those stepping in the ring seriously have to know that if they are not in the shape of their life the other guy or girl will clean their clock.
This morning in San Pedro Town a lesson is in progress. Fighting still happens here and issues are resolved the old fashioned way.
This maestro explains theory, then shows it. Watching, it is clear he knows what he is talking about, takes his art serious, and gives good knowledge. He doesn’t look in the best shape but I wouldn’t want to mix it with him.
There is talk of physics, motion, momentum, following your punch or kick, spinning and deflecting, picking your spots, defense, body weak points, take downs, not hitting and backing away to give your foe a chance to regroup, using elbows, knees and skull, twisting your knuckles as you strike.
Fighting is an art, but, bottom line, it is avoiding confrontation, and, when you have no other choice, taking your opponent out quickly before he does you damage.
Holly Holm, the preacher’s daughter, just put Albuquerque, New Mexico on the map in her title bout against Ronda Rousey.
This martial arts lesson has my full interest.
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