The bay is dead calm this morning. We wake, make coffee, and hop aboard our paddleboard boat. After exploring a small, nearby island we begin our way back to camp when dolphins appear out ahead, and then a few more pop up behind us. I’ve seen more dolphins in the last month than in my entire 42 years of being alive. That alone has made this entire trip worth it.
When we get back Parker tells us he bought some fresh halibut from one of the drive-by vendors. Halibut for dinner it is.
Just before noon the wind kicks up as though turned on at the flip of a switch. A consistent and grating wind howls until sunset prompting Mark to do his wind research ritual. What we learn is that this wind is here to stay for several days and throughout most of the coast of Baja. If there was somewhere better to be, we’d pack up and head that direction tomorrow but it seems as though there may not be anywhere to hide. With that, we cross our fingers that the forecast isn’t entirely accurate, otherwise we’re in for an uncomfortable week.
For the first time since crossing the border 39 days ago I crave being home. I crave more square footage, running water, a shower, my kitchen. It’s funny to say that since we don’t have a traditional home to go back to. But right now our 180 square foot home on wheels (that is currently in storage) sounds downright luxurious compared to the truck camper living we’re doing right now. I refuse to scratch that itch though. Not until the craving lasts a week or two will I give it any credence. What I’m seeking is comfort and I’m too aware of the fact that comfort doesn’t come without sacrificing something to get it. In this case going home to my creature comforts means putting an end to all the adventure that not having them affords me. And I’m not quite ready to make that trade just yet.