Nov 1-Fresh oysters for breakfast.

We are having a terrific time in the tropics.   With many different species of birds, butterflies, flowers, and warm temperatures moderated by ocean breezes, who could ask for more.

After my morning walk with Sunny I decided to check out the northern end of the beach.  I had not had an opportunity to explore this area, which is roughly two kilometres from where we are camped.

View looking north from in front of our campground.

Covered in 30 spf sun tan lotion, and wearing my broad brimmed straw stetson, off I went.    The sand on the beach is not hard-packed, so walking is a bit of a chore.    Especially when it almost 90 degrees at 9.00AM.   The incoming waves break at the water’s edge, then roll on up the beach at different intervals, so one has to be quick afoot to dodge the surf.   As I wheezed along, I witnessed a Mexican fisherman battling the waves, and trying to throw his weighted, circular net out to sea in order to catch unsuspecting fish.  More than once he was knocked over by the large waves.

Fisherman casting his net out to sea.

A little further on the Lo de Marcos river, flows down to the beach and fresh water collides with salt water in a shallow stream that cuts through the sand.

Lo de Marcos river flowing to the sea.

In order to continue my trek I had to ford the river in water about knee deep.    After successfully crossing the stream I came upon some free ranging cattle.   They had been walking along this isolated part of the beach, then climbed a two metre high sand embankment to feed on greenery there.  

One of the cows feeding on wild flowers.

As I continued northward I passed five oyster divers heavily laden with their equipment and sacks of oysters.

As I got closer to the rocky point at the north end of the beach I noticed a senora, with three young boys, and a man in the water struggling with an inflated inner tube, trying to get to shore.    He was obviously an oyster diver by the diving mask and swim fins he wore.   He had a hard time dragging the inner tube behind him through the crashing surf.   As he got close to shore I was able to give him a hand with the inner tube.

In the centre of the tube was a net firmly attached that was full of oysters.   As we struggled to get his catch to dry sand I was amazed at how heavy the oysters were.    The diver, was quick to thank me for assisting him and introduced me to his family.   This divers name was Jesus Estrada, who lives in El Monteon, small village between Lo de Marcos and La Penita.   He told me he had been in the water for three hours in order to fill the net in the inner tube.   

I know absolutely nothing about oysters, so had many questions for Jesus.   He told me in spanish that the oysters attached themselves to rocks on the ocean floor and by using a small crow bar he is able to pry them off the rock, and then place them in his net.   Once ashore he emptied the net, spilling the oysters onto the sand.   He then went in search of a large stone that he strategically placed near the oysters.   With a dull type of machete he pounded on the hard oyster shells, splitting them in two.   Once he completed this task he sorted the oyster shells into two piles.   The best ones were placed in a large flour sack.   He told me that he would sell these to a seafood restaurant in Bucerias. 

The other pile he tackled with a sharp knife, first forcing the shell open, then cutting the oyster meat where it attached to the shell.    The oyster meat  was placed in a bucket of ocean water and rinsed well to separate the meat from any remaining pieces of shell.    As Jesus opened the shells he offered me a fresh oyster.    He told me that they would normally eat them raw with lime juice and a hot salsa.   Now I am not the greatest seafood lover and this was a first for me.    I tried to swallow the oyster whole as I have seen done on television, but the gag reflexes kicked in, and I ended up chewing the rubbery, gritty, salty tasting morcel.

By the time his youngest son brought me the fourth oyster to down I graciously refused stating I didn’t want to eat all his profits.   

Jesus sorting the pile of oysters.

I watched him  worked for almost an hour shucking the oysters, and in end he only kept a small, plastic bag of oysters filled with salt water, for his family.    I am not sure how old Jesus was but would guess in his mid-thirties.   He was probably about 5’10” tall and would weight no more that 150 lbs.   He wrapped himself in a back-support belt, and I helped him hoist the sack of oysters onto his shoulders.   I am guessing but would think the sack weighed close to 50 kilos.   I watched in amazement as he carried the sack across his shoulders for roughly one and a half kilometres, while sinking deeply in the loose sand.  The children and his wife tagged along helping carry his equipment. 

Jesus lugging heavy sack of oysters along the beach.

  

 He later told me that he did this same routine every day, and it was a way to support his family.  I thanked him for his hospitality and he said that if I ever got to El Monteon to come and visit him and his family.

The last I saw of the Estrada family they had loaded the oysters, and kids into their old half ton truck and were headed to Buscerias.   

Later on this afternoon, Nicole thought she might try swimming in the ocean.   Equipped with a noodle she made it to the water’s edge, but decided the waves were to big for her.

Nicole not quite ready to take the plunge.

We will see what advertures tomorrow has in store.