Last Updated on March 23, 2021
Our time at the beach house has gotten considerably more intense since our last post.
Do we stay or do we go
The most notable change was the arrival of hurricane Ernesto in Mexico last week. The storm itself is said to have reached Category 2 as it hit land just 20 miles north of the beach house, ripping through the jungle and knocking down all the power lines in its path.
But it was the build-up to the hurricane that was so intense. Speculation as to whether what was then tropical storm Ernesto would turn into a hurricane or fade out into a tropical depression. And if it did become a hurricane, would we stay or would we go.
It began almost a week before the storm with an email from the homeowner whether we had heard about the possibility of Ernesto coming to visit. At this point it was laid back, a possibility, something to keep an eye on and a topic of discussion with the neighbors.
These were the sunniest of days spent relaxing in the water, working from the hammocks or right on the beach. A possible hurricane seemed surreal, but emails kept coming from the homeowners in the States and the whole hurricane threat slowly kept building.
We went over how we would pack everything up, including whether or not to knock all the coconuts out of the palm trees in the front so they didn’t end up shattering windows. And then, slowly but surely, everything got technical.
Avoiding the ‘Dirty’ side
Email chains turned to information about storm systems. I found myself calculating latitude and longitude and possible points of contact using online meteorological tools to estimate best and worst case scenarios.
The local expats started talking about the chances of being on the ‘dirty’ side of the hurricane – meaning the hurricane hits south and winds hit counterclockwise and cause much more destruction.
Suddenly all we wanted was for the storm to hit north. There was no doubt now that the storm was coming, and not only would it be a hurricane, it could possibly pick up speed to become a Category 2, which, according to the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Scale on Wikipedia, means that ‘extremely dangerous winds will cause extensive damage’.
We looked at our options. We could stay in a house not 30 feet from the beach, hours from any sort of real assistance, no phone or internet waiting out a possible Cat 2 hurricane that could take up to 18 hours to pass overhead.
Or we could leave.
So we left.
There had been some heavy rain the day before, but the morning we left, the water was calm, the birds were chirping, and the only indication that something was a bit ‘off’ were the dozens of dragonflies that were hovering around.
In fact, we almost felt foolish for leaving. Many of the expats were staying and the homeowners kept saying it was ‘our call’, which to us meant they would stay if they were here. Our Mexican neighbors to the south had been boarding up and made their escape that morning too, and as we made our way through the village, watching the sun glistening off the bright blue ocean out the windows of the truck, we passed all the fishing boats which had been called in, and passed by the clapboard houses all boarded up and empty. The locals had fled.
As we made our way north, several Army pick-up trucks filled with Mexican soldiers sped past us, back toward where we came from, and in fact much of the Costa Maya was evacuated just a few hours after we left to head to Playa del Carmen.
After five weeks down in the middle of nowhere it felt great to rejoin civilization again for a few days and made us realize just how isolated we have been and how ready we will be to leave here in two weeks. But it will be bittersweet.
This is the longest we have ever stayed anywhere in over two years (previously that was our lovely Canada housesit last summer). This is also the longest we have ever had to bond with a pet, too, and leaving Loba will be gut-wrenching. We seriously love this dog. She is full of personality and has some of the most adorable habits, like when she hops through the shallow Caribbean water hunting for fish, looking more like an antelope springing up and down across African plains. Dani taught her to give paw, and we spent hours playing with her, or watching her sprint laps around the beach like a race dog. No matter where we are in the world, we will always think about her all the way down here guarding the beach house.
What seemed like an endless stretch of summertime has now whittled its way down to less than two weeks left here at the beach house. The countdown begins. Only two more times filling water in the solar batteries, four more times with the generator, a few more dinners with our awesome new Kiwi friends / fellow house-sitters and not enough time to catch up on all the snorkeling we wanted to do when we arrived…
Next Stop: Costa Rica
There might be some snorkeling to be done though on our next stop: Costa Rica! That’s right, we have been accepted for our sixth housesit of 2012. This time it will be a two month stint in a beach town on the Nicoya peninsula…a new puppy, a new house and much more civilization – relatively.
Stay tuned for our final Notes from the Beach House – Mexico edition – in two weeks’ time. Let’s hope for a hurricane-free time until then!
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