By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken

We visited Mexico off and on beginning in 1980, and we’ve spent several months in Huatulco most years since 2001. Needless to say, we were considerably younger then. Our outdoor pursuits on the Oaxacan Coast required stamina and strength – hours of continuous snorkeling, hikes up and down steep trails, and long drives in our 4-wheel-drive SUV along bumpy roads that turned into river beds and ended at deserted beaches. We enjoyed every minute of such activities. But when we reached age 80, some vigorous activities began to result in more pain than pleasure. You’ll be glad to hear that we adapted and now find that many of the activities we’ve always enjoyed can be carried out from a comfortable seat on a patio overlooking a garden and the ocean.

Exploring botanical life

The coastal plant life, especially the cacti and agaves, always interested us. But now we can sit still long enough to observe the differences in the varieties and the fascinating ways they react to seasonal and daily changes. The cacti near our condo’s patio range from low-growing barrel shapes – with different arrangements of spines covering their green flesh – to amazingly tall trees with thick needle-covered mazes of branches reaching 20 or more feet (over 6 meters) into the sky. During the highest winds, the barrels hunker down and seem absolutely impervious, while the tall cacti stand firmly in place but gently sway – each branch in its own rhythm.

The rosette-shape agaves with their multiple spear-shaped leaves range in our garden-view from about 2-feet (60 centimeters) in height to over 5-feet. Their colors are primarily green but some are the palest green on the palette while other are the darkest green hue – and others are every green shade in between. When the winds sweep off the ocean, the agaves shimmy. Yes, not shake but actually shimmy. In a kind of optical illusion, by staring at one of the agaves you can “see” the leaves on the right continuously rotating to the right and down like a wheel, with the leaves on the left a mirror image — a movement which is not possible but is mesmerizing.

The agaves randomly produce buds and flowers. Some of the agave flowers appear startlingly overnight. Long stems emerge from the rosette and then are topped by bright yellow flowers. The flowering is very rare and usually signals the end of the plant’s life cycle. We also can observe low-growing succulents (Stapelia Gigantea) that usually are not worthy of mention. But after a recent unexpected overnight deluge, they produced an amazing huge starfish-shaped cream-colored flower, so large as compared to the usual size of the plant that the overall impression was of a miracle.

The cacti in our closely observed garden produce fruit at a specific season on a particular day. When that day occurs, the call goes out from all the local birds — and suddenly the cacti are covered with feathered fellows that are every color of the rainbow. Which brings us to our next pursuit.

Bird watching

We have our own unscientific names for groups of birds that keep us continuously entertained: strutters, flitters, and high-fliers. Two types of strutters parade across the garden in the early morning, the small brownish-grayish doves coo as they strut like chickens, occasionally stopping for a tasty bug treat. The large ungainly chachalacas resemble turkeys (and some local residents prepare them to eat as one would a turkey) as they march in front of us calling their friends with an excessively loud squawking chatter.

The high-fliers include three varieties of vulture – one uglier than the other– that appear in circles above a land area where some animal has died. We should be grateful that they clear the land of carrion – but actually we’re happy to see a decrease in their numbers in our visible skies, as the surrounding jungle is gradually being cleared and humans are replacing reptiles and rodents. Fortunately, sufficient trees remain for the pairs of nesting osprey that fly gracefully high above all day, emitting tiny little chirps unsuitable for such large birds. The pelicans, which can be seen fishing in the ocean by themselves or in small groups, flock together around sunset and present incredible geometric patterns as they circle the bay on the way to their nighttime arboreal campgrounds. And shortly after sunset when the sky becomes pink, peach, or rose, the swallows amass, flying by at first in a vanguard of ten or twelve and later in scores filling the sky.

The flitters include an incredible spectrum of song birds and strident screamers, ranging from the tiny nondescript cactus wrens that nestle down between agave leaves to the beautiful deep-marked blue, black and white screaming magpie jays. Each day brings different species – woodpeckers, flycatchers, orioles, buntings, hummingbirds. There are over 100 species of birds in our area. Many birders visit Huatulco, arise early in the morning, drive to parks armed with binoculars and bird books, and follow guides up trails or through jungle areas to complete their checklists. That’s fine for the under-80 crowd. But we pursue a similar passion with a cup of coffee or a glass of wine in hand on an ocean-view patio. Moreover, rather than merely checking a name off a list, we can observe details of the fascinating commensal relationship between birds and plants, such as golden-cheek woodpeckers who clean insects that are visibly attacking cacti.

Bonding with other animal life

While one of us has always avoided boats except to admire them, the other has long pursued whale-watching, all the way from the northern reaches of the Atlantic to both hemispheres of the Pacific. However, one of the greatest dangers for those over 80 is the possibility of falling, and small whale-watching boats are not particularly stable. Now we have found there is no reason to give up the joy of watching these incredible fellow mammals. We are always scanning the ocean surface for a sudden telltale spray of water. And a few times a week this scanning leads to the delight of watching the antics of one or more whales. Sometimes a solitary whale will swim in circles with one fin extended looking like he or she is waving a beckoning hello. Baby whales playing are adorable as they dive and bob up around each other, obviously paying no attention to the nearby adults guarding them. And one can never tire of watching a whale breaching or fluking – until numerous boats show up.

We can frequently watch whales for twenty minutes or more but invariably the human call goes out – “whale there,” and small boats gather from all directions surrounding the playful giants. It’s amazing that these gentle behemoths don’t simply knock the human pests out of their protective shells. But instead, they usually watch the boats for a few minutes, dive deep, and disappear from view.

Iguanas are another source of outdoor entertainment. Watching a heavy fellow climb a tree on branches more slender than his tail, then reach out to chomp on tender leaves, while the branches bend and sway under the pressure from his meaty body is remarkable. They never seem to fall since they use their tails to cling and balance. And although a friend claims iguanas have no maternal instinct because their babies hatch from eggs, we’ve watched a baby iguana feeding off low growing plants while a female circles protectively around the baby until it was time to leave and she nudged it in the right direction.

Human aquatic behavior is also interesting. Name the type of water vehicle humans use to stay afloat on the ocean and you can probably witness it from Huatulco. A few times a month, usually around dawn, large aquatic cities (aka cruise ships) make their way to dock in Santa Cruz. They seem to spawn smaller human water toys, since a few hours later the water in the surrounding bays often is disturbed by water jet skis and wave runners. Usually, shortly before sunset, the deep blast of the cruise boat’s horn warns passengers to be back on board and later we are alerted by another horn to watch the ship being tugged slowly back out to sea, where from our patio we can see it slowly make its way through the channel and off to its next port.

Even when the cruise ship dock is vacant, the two nearby marinas launch fishing boats, “booze” boats for tourists, bay tour and snorkeling boats, graceful sail boats, catamarans, luxurious yachts, and a plethora of outboard pangas. On the sea horizon, full oil tankers make their way from the refineries in Salina Cruz to cities upcoast and back again with empty containers. Marines stationed at the nearby Mexico Naval base train in military boats of a spectrum of sizes and purposes. For a basically terrestrial species without gills or tails, we humans collectively spend much of our time on the water. That pattern is interrupted only when the winds blow hard, the waves turn white capped, the ocean color deepens to an ominous dark hue and the local marinas close.

Tuning into the rhythms of the world

As we age, we become acutely aware of natural cycles. There’s no place better for observing these cycles for the over-80 folks than the Oaxacan coast. From our outdoor patio theater we can watch the ebb and flow of the waves, especially remarkable at full moon and new moon when the waves smashing on the rocks below and islets at a distance reach the limits of their height. Storms at sea are literally awesome with high winds that toss about flora and fauna – including us.

We marvel at each miraculous sunrise and sunset – no two are the same. At night, as the sky turns from deep red or pink or peach to star-studded black, the distant lighthouse, El Faro, begins signaling “dangerous shoals” to passing ships, inspiring another outdoor pursuit – creating Haiku.

Quantified darkness
Light beams swirl from El Faro
Illuminate all

Neighbors have suggested many other outdoor pursuits suitable for adults of all ages: star-gazing, wine-tasting, cocktail mixing, reading in the shade of an umbrella, barbecuing, and one “off-patio” pursuit that we hope never to give up – aqua exercise. But whatever floats your boat, the basic message is the same: when you are over 80, your mobility and stamina may well change, but your zest for outdoor pursuits can remain the same.