Bob and Carol Dawson say friends and relatives are reluctant to visit them in Baja California, scared by reports of drug violence. (Sachi Cunningham/Los Angeles Times)

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Mexico crime war
a blip in lush life

US expatriates’ security systems largely effective

Boston.com 12/16/09 - ROSARITO BEACH, Mexico - Bob and Carol Dawson love living in Baja California, but the region’s violent reputation has put them on the defensive. They have been called delusional and reckless - all because they choose to live in an oceanfront gated community about 40 miles and a world away from the US border.

Americans living in this part of Mexico often are grilled, half-jokingly, about their sanity. They get asked whether they’ve seen decapitated heads rolling down the street. Friends wonder whether they wear bulletproof vests or drive around in armored cars.

When the Dawsons moved here in 1999 to retire, they were enticed by the area’s charm and peacefulness. They bought an expansive home with ocean views for $175,000. “Live like a millionaire without a million bucks’’ is the local real-estate mantra.

In recent years, the tranquility has been eclipsed by battles between the Mexican government and organized crime. Military trucks brimming with heavily armed soldiers have rumbled through the manicured grounds of luxury developments, and gunmen pepper local police stations with automatic-weapon fire. Baja California’s most notorious crime boss once eluded authorities by running through a beach popular with American retirees.

Since 2008, more than 1,000 Mexicans in northern Baja California have died in drug violence. Rarely does a week go by without news of another person being beheaded or dissolved in acid or chopped up and left in a parked car.

But for most expatriates, the violence seems as distant as headlines from Iraq. Along the 70-mile stretch of coastline from Tijuana to Ensenada, 14,000 Americans live in a bubble of relative security, many in gated developments or high-rise condominiums where they run a greater risk of being sideswiped by a golf cart or a wave-tossed surfer than staring down an AK-47-toting drug trafficker.

Not that expatriates are oblivious to the drug war. Bill Kirchhoff, former city manager of Redondo Beach, Calif., says he suspects some of the boaters speeding by his seaside house at Playa La Mision are drug traffickers. But he’s not planning to move back to the States any time soon, saying a few precautions can keep people out of harm’s way.

“A lot of people simply don’t understand the level of danger that exists in this kind of environment,’’ he said. “But if you’re aware of it, you can manage it to a great extent.’’

Bob Dawson, 66, says the dangers are exaggerated, but he shares a pioneer attitude.

“We’re a different kind of breed even to try this,’’ he said.

From the balcony of their home one row back from the ocean, the Dawsons can see dolphins dancing in the waves and pelicans gliding low over the surf break. Carol keeps watch for migrating whales; Bob pours his margarita mix for neighbors.

The Dawsons just don’t get many visitors from elsewhere.

Loved ones beg them to move, and many have refused to visit, including their son-in-law, who has expressed concern about his children’s safety.

“He thinks we live in a dream world,’’ said Carol, 65. “But if I feared danger to my life, I wouldn’t be here.’’

The curving, craggy coastline of northern Baja California, a one-hour drive from San Diego, was once a popular getaway for Southern California residents who came for the solitude and the surf.

In recent years, the coastal stretch has taken on an upscale look with condominiums, spacious homes, bed-and-breakfasts, and spas rising on bluffs. In the nearby Guadalupe Valley, hacienda-style inns and wineries sit amid vineyards blanketing the tawny hills.

The area attracts a range of Americans. Young telecommuters and Internet entrepreneurs live alongside artists and urban refugees in hillside villages. Retirees enjoy five-star luxury resorts with vanishing-edge pools, private beaches, and shuttle service to the border.

For less than $300,000, a spacious home on an 18-hole golf course at Baja Mar can be purchased. Ocean-view houses with balconies and gardens can be had for $400,000.

“Look at this. I can’t live in La Jolla [Calif.] like this,’’ Richard Cargill, 66, said as he took in the ocean views from his deck at the Palacio Del Mar resort. The retired mortgage banker paid $490,000 for the 2,300-square-foot condominium one year ago. “I call this the smart man’s San Diego.’’

For the Dawsons, the appeal was early retirement. Bob, who used to own a paper packaging company, and Carol, a former flight attendant, cut their expenses 30 percent when they moved to Baja from Santa Ana, Calif. They live in the Las Gaviotas development about 6 miles south of Rosarito Beach, where 298 homes sit behind high walls and visitors must pass through a gate manned by security guards. There’s a clubhouse, a pool, tennis courts, and a promenade lined with minimansions that overlook a strand dotted with beach huts.

Five years ago, anticipating visitors, the Dawsons expanded their house, adding two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an elevator. They started a property management business catering to Americans who own second homes in the area.

Then the troubles started.

The Mexican government’s crackdown against organized crime struck Baja California in 2007. Late that year, heavily armed men dressed as police pulled over a San Diego-area family on the coastal road. They pointed guns, pocketed cash and jewelry, and stole the family’s truck and trailer.

That attack, along with the robbery of a surfer and the rape of his girlfriend on an isolated beach, was repeatedly mentioned in media accounts of Baja California violence.

To the Dawsons, the recycled reports give the distorted impression that Americans are constantly under siege. Media coverage of “a shootout in the States lasts one day,’’ Bob said. “We have a shootout here, and it lasts for years.’’

The Dawsons say they use common-sense rules people follow in any community affected by serious crime.

“I heard gunfire in Santa Ana; I’ve never heard gunfire here,’’ Carol Dawson said.