When we come upon the pelican, dead in the water, that is the final straw. As if the tons of tour boats, just like ours, noses jammed into the small section of sea cordoned by tow ropes and occasional buoys, and the blaring music from large cruise yachts sporting reveling young adults enjoying Spring Break, isn’t enough: we have chosen the wrong tour activity. Snorkeling at Pelican Rock (with souvenir photos!) delivers less than expected. What is that saying? “Expectations=planned disappointments.
I could reflect on my choice of leaving a four-out-of-five star review on trip advisor after this ill-conceived misadventure. Here’s the thing—the captain Jonathan and the guide, Chuckie, did their damnedest to make this a worthy excursion. Both charming and accommodating, they shared folklore and jokes, helped the first-time snorkeler among us graciously, but CABO SAN LUCAS is not paradise…now.
It is overcrowded and loud; it’s popularity over time has sealed its fate. The fish themselves almost seem embarrassed to be there, skittering about above a sandy bottom, skirting rocks like stage performers at a soon-to-close show.
And the water in March? It’s 65°—that’s cold for an elder like me. I realize the truth of that when I take the plunge, mask held firmly in place as instructed, and head for the buoy rope. I am immediately chilled, no “getting used to it” will save me. I swim about a bit, attempt to follow the guide closer to our objective “rock,” but after seeing those shame-faced fish, I turn toward the beach and sun.
So that review? What do I do? I am kind but honest. I tout the people and their efforts. I know that most of us are trying to do our best with what we have to work with. That is the tourist philosophy that works for me.