SAILING CAMELOT

It’s not always a vacation on Camelot!

Well, most of the time it is… But this morning, before we go play some more, we need to replenish the fuel supply and announce our presence to the Port Captain.

These two simple tasks end up taking most of the day. To get fuel we throw the jerry jugs in the dinghy, then zoom across the bay to the nearest gas station, fill up, chat with a bunch of friendly locals, load the filled jugs back on the dinghy, zig-zag our way back to Camelot, transfer fuel from jugs to tanks. It is a little convoluted, but it’s what cruisers do when a fuel dock is not available… It took us three hours and a few pints of sweat, but we’re still smiling!

Excalibur the Dinghy, at your service...

The Port Captain experience is a little more frustrating, testing even Tom’s legendary patience: two more hours for a lousy stamp on a piece of paper! But such is life…By now, we’re not smiling that much anymore.

It’s blazing hot, we’re sweating like pigs. We unanimously decide to take a pass on more explorations and take the rest of the day off enjoying peace, quiet, cold drinks and a light breeze on Camelot.

Acapulco has been a touristic Mecca since the 1920’s, a coveted vacation spot for the rich and famous and a movie set for many motion pictures. To name a few: Tarzan (the very first one), Fun in Acapulco (Elvis Presley and Ursula Andress), and Rambo (Sylvester Stallone).

This controversial town has lost most of its exclusivity and shine since then, but still remains a popular destination.

Today we take our first tour, starting with the short dinghy trip from our mooring ball to shore. We park our dinghy on the docks at the Acapulco Marina, where it will be safe and watched by Security Guards for the steep price of 200 Pesos per day. I guess it’s worth it and I’m not complaining, but I can’t help compare this fee with the 300 Pesos per day we paid for the mooring ball.

But that’s just me, the Evil Queen of Numbers. It’s what I do… 

Yes, we're HERE!

The Lighthouse at Marina de Acapulco, dwarfed by the high rises...

We take a long walk toward the town center, maybe a mile and a half from the Marina. There are buses that will take you anywhere for only 6 Pesos per person, but we badly need to move after days sitting on the boat and we welcome the exercise.

First we notice the local taxis on the streets: almost all of them are old white and blue Volkswagen Bugs from the Seventies!

The Crazy Bugs and colorful Buses of Acapulco

Just seeing them zoom about makes me giggle

We walk aimlessly a long way, craning our necks this way and that like real tourists, ending at the Ferry Terminal. From there we see a sign advertising Fuerte de San Diego, a museum of history and anthropology. I guess we need to visit!

Overpass from the Ferry Terminal to Fuerte de San Diego

Tom showing the way to the Fort

View of the Marina across the top of the Ferry Terminal

This fortress, dating back to 1776 and built in the shape of a pentagon, sits atop a hill overlooking Acapulco Bay. The view is breathtaking, and so is the steep climb to get there…

So Mexico has a Pentagon, too!

Entering the Fort: to welcome tourists they point a cannon at them!

The building itself is amazing and the displays inside are so very interesting, covering everything from the early people of Mexico, to the Spanish occupation and the trade with Asia and the Philippines. We spent hours in there! Also, the air conditioning inside encouraged us to stay at leisure…

Postcard Perfect! Bahia de Acapulco

View of the Bay from the Fort

Nicely cooled off, we next decide to scope out the Zona Hotelera, the part of town where tourist is king. We hop on one of the many colorful buses zooming about town.

These buses are privately owned and each one is personalized to the owner’s taste, from graphics and colors outside to music and décor inside. They each have a theme: there’s the Caballero, painted with vivid Mexican scenes inside and out, playing Mariachi music to deafening levels. There’s El Rey Scorpion (The Scorpion King), Santo Nino, Flower Power, and so many more.

The colorful (and loud!) Buses of Acapulco

If traffic is congested, at least is fun to watch!

We hop on Flower Power and take a long, scenic ride, until our ears can’t take it anymore. It also has to be mentioned, the driving style of these guys is incredible… If you’ve seen the Harry Potter movies, well, it’s exactly like that: take-offs at breakneck speed and stops so abrupt that the rear wheels almost come off the road. It’s just another form of entertainment, Mexican style.

The Flower Power Bus is coming to get us!

And this is what it looks like inside...

The Hotel Zone is similar to any other found in Mexico. Lots of shops, even more bars and restaurants, lots of banks, ice cream parlors, even a four-storey American style shopping mall. We can’t help noticing the massive Police presence. Officers armed with rifles standing in pairs around the shops, pick-up truck loaded with masked soldiers armed to their teeth, Federal Police, Touristic Police, City Police cars zooming up and down, incessantly patrolling the city. I don’t know if I feel extremely reassured or supremely alarmed…

Ever the manic photographer, I raise my camera to take a picture of the menacing-looking soldiers on the pick-up truck. One of them barely moves his head in a no-no motion, and it’s enough to make me desist. I know there’s a reason for them to wear masks: these guys are trying to hide their identity from the narco trafficants. What was I even thinking, trying to take their picture…

We’ve been playing tourist for more than a few hours and are getting tired, so we make our way back to the boat. There’s still quite a bit to see, but there’s always Manana…

Relaxing view with customary Palm Tree. Camelot is down there somewhere...

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed one more time, we’re ready to take on the day. We start -coffee in hand-, by listening to the local radio net; it’s the best way to learn who’s here, what’s going on, and any local information to make the best of our stay.

We announce our arrival and are soon greeted by a number of fellow sailors we haven’t heard or seen for a while. Sharing of plans and itineraries ensue, followed by best wishes for safe travels.  It’s really heartwarming. We won’t see most of these people ever again.

A sense of finality starts creeping over me: after sixteen months in Mexico, we’re now on our way to Central America. It’s finally dawning on me that we’re soon leaving behind a familiar environment populated by people we know and like. It’s not my nature to dwell on loss of any kind, I’m usually projected in the future. Still, I can’t help feeling a little… I don’t know… sad?

Tom must have guessed what’s on my mind: as soon as the radio communications are over, he whisks me off my feet. We only have a few hours before leaving for Acapulco later this afternoon and we’re both uninterested in going to visit the little town. 

View of Zihuatanejo Bay from Playa Las Gatas

We’re going to spend a few hours at Las Gatas Beach, a favorite spot we visited many times last year. I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing!  Nothing better than lying on a beach, working on my suntan for a little while… 

From my vantage point (lounge chair) this is what I see... PRETTY!

Four hours go by pretty quickly when you’re being spoiled and pampered by the friendly waiters on Playa Las Gatas !

Our friendly waiter Luis showing us lunch options - Red Snapper or Lobster?

 It’s time to return to Camelot and get ready for departure. Sigh!

At 17:30 I find myself one more time at the helm, gently steering our valiant vessel towards the open ocean. As soon as we’re out of Zihuatanejo Bay a mild but persistent wind blowing from the perfect direction pleasantly surprises us. We can finally SAIL! No motor! It’s been so long since we enjoyed a good sail, I’m so happy I don’t even grumble about another overnight trip…

Tom is ecstatic as well, born sailor that he is. Camelot finds her groove and settles on her course at a constant, honorable speed of 7.8 knots. It always amazes me how this boat, loaded like a mobile home, still manages to sail with elegance and grace, smoothly and effortlessly. We love our boat!

Dinner is served while the sun goes down. It won’t be a spectacular sunset as it’s a little cloudy but hey, you can’t always have everything! In fact, most of the time you can’t have everything… We soon learn that lesson again, when the wind first changes direction, then disappears completely. Rats! It was so much fun while it lasted…

I’m resigned to tolerating the engine symphony for the rest of the night. One more time we settle into our routine of night watches. At least the air is pleasantly warm and dry, the sea is almost flat calm; should be like this all the way to Acapulco, or so I hope.

The nocturnal traffic is light with the occasional tanker passing by, no cruise ships. With no worries to keep me busy, my mind wanders. I’m musing over the lack of cruise ships.

After the violent wave of crime that swept over Acapulco last year, when fourteen beheaded bodies were found not too far from the touristic center, 90% of the cruise ship business has boycotted this once-popular destination. Pretty much all of Mexico is being avoided by U.S. tourists, while the Canadians don’t share the same concern and keep visiting.

Personally, I’m not in the least worried about crime and our safety. Most of the violence is directed at drug trafficking gangs; I’m well aware that being in the wrong place at the wrong time can be dangerous if not fatal. But the same can be said of all places. Los Angeles or even my former neighboring town of Oakland comes to mind… Danger can be found anywhere. I firmly believe that when your time is up, well, it’s up. If it’s your time, you can be murdered in Mexico or be run over by a bus while crossing the street in front of your safe home in the United States. I refuse to live in fear and am willing to take my chances, retaining a modicum of common sense to help me along the way. After all, the art of living it’s a risk in itself, isn’t it…

So, that’s where my thoughts drift while Camelot plows through the dark sea in the middle of the night.

Tom and I alternate watches as usual, and before I know it it’s daybreak again. It’s very hazy and we’re far from land so I can’t see anything, but I notice a faint but distinctive smell. I swear I smell something like mulch! Tom confirms my “nose perceptions”: he thinks he smells the jungle!

We both laugh at our guesses, after all now we are traveling in uncharted territory (for us). From now on it’s all new to us, all to be explored and discovered. We have no idea of what to expect, everything will be a surprise.

Hazy Acapulco and its famous Cliffs.

The mysterious smell remains a mystery. As we approach Acapulco we see neither mulch nor jungle, just high cliffs the spreading city sits upon and a few small islands covered in vegetation. I only recognize palm trees but there’s a lot more. Maybe the fragrant scent comes from some of these plants? The intrigue continues…

The Prettiest House in the neighborhood... I couldn't afford it if I wanted to...

In any case, from the sea we can see the cliff famous for the traditional Cliff Divers of Acapulco. Young brave (or plain crazy) men jump these cliffs daily, carrying lit torches at night; it’s a form of entertainment unique to Acapulco.

Entering the Bay of Acapulco is a little disappointing for me. I knew this has been a worldly and famous touristic destination for decades, yet I wasn’t prepared for the multitude of high rises crowding the beaches. The surrounding hills are densely populated as well; every inch of developable real estate has been developed…

Well, here's entering Acapulco Bay... A Jungle of High Rises!

Then we find this "road obstruction" just around the corner...

 I guess Tom was right. There is a jungle after all, just not the kind I imagined. However, I reserve judgment for later on, after a thorough visit.

We’ve been trying for over an hour to contact the Marina of Acapulco, both by radio and by phone, unsuccessfully. We know there are only two options to find a berth at a Marina. The other is the Acapulco Yacht Club, infamous for its outrageous prices and therefore already discarded as a possibility. I guess they want to keep the place exclusive, so I’ll give them a hand by excluding them!

Tom, wise man that he is, suggests we stop at the fuel dock to replenish our tanks and try to contact the Marina in person. We want to stay four days here, a berth would be nice.

The fuel dock is crowded, there are two big power boats and a sailboat in line and no room for us to sit and wait our turn. Not willing to keep hovering in tight quarters with the wind blowing us this way and that, Tom decides to postpone refueling and heads out to… where? Where are we going? We try to locate the Marina and are just about to head that way, when we hear our boat’s name being hailed on the radio. Puzzled, we look at each other while Tom answers the call. It’s a Mexican gentleman speaking English, offering us a mooring ball in the anchorage close to the Marina! It takes just a glance and no words for Tom and me to agree wholeheartedly. The unknown helper supplies directions, telling us to look for his small boat to the left. And sure enough there he is, sitting with another man in the smallest nugget of a rowboat I’ve ever seen, beside a big blue mooring ball! He lifts two ends of a big rope, signaling that he’s ready to help us tie up. What a blessed sight! We’re more than happy to accept his help and his mooring ball; we’re tired and want nothing more than to be safely settled as soon as possible. Within minutes we’re tied up and formal introductions are made aboard Camelot. Over bottles of iced water we get to know Pedro and Hugo, our helpers. They welcome us to Acapulco and give us a little bit the lay of the land and some useful information. The mooring ball is privately owned and the price is 300 Pesos a day (about US$23), which suits us just fine. The Marina berth would have been US$60 per day, no water or electricity available… So all in all, I think we’re very lucky as we pay for four days.

Time of arrival is 11:30; the trip was 112 miles long and lasted 18 hours.

Luckily, this is our "backyard" view.

Oh, it feels so good to be at sea again! After a wonderful night’s sleep, fully rested and rejuvenated, we’re ready and eager to get going. It’s 8:05 in the morning and I’m slowly guiding a docile Camelot out of the anchorage while Tom is making a pot of coffee. It’s a sunny day if a little hazy, but maybe it’ll clear out later on.

The sea is mercifully calm today, although the wind is nowhere to be found. We raise our main sail, it helps to balance the boat while motoring and in case the wind shows up, well, we’re half-ready…

Merlin the Autopilot takes over, allowing us a very nice breakfast. As we chomp on our cereal, a pod of dolphins shows up in the distance. I’m anticipating a good natural show; it’s the best part of cruising for me.

We don’t have to wait long at all. We’ve just finished eating breakfast when I see something sticking out of the water in the distance. Sure enough, on the starboard side about half a mile from us there’s a couple of whales frolicking in the water. I fumble for my camera: better get ready in case they come closer.

These are definitely NOT rabbitt ears sticking out of the water...

Some instinct tells me to look ahead instead, and wherever that came from I’m really grateful: right in front of our bow, no farther than 300 yards, I spot a tiny dorsal fin and two huge pectoral fins sticking out of the water. It’s a Mama Humpback Whale lying on her back with her calf swimming above her belly.

When you see this ...

 It looks like she’s guiding her baby within the safe confines of her fins, almost like an embrace. Tom slows down the boat, slightly altering course to avoid spooking the whales. You do NOT want to get close or -worse- between Mom and Baby… While Tom keeps a watchful eye for signs of danger, I start jumping all over the boat aiming for the best angle to shoot a series of pictures. All that prancing about cost me an expensive pair of sunglasses (my favorites, too!)… I watch them slip off my face, roll down my chest, bounce off the deck and very gently splash in the ocean. I’m so stunned I can’t even find my voice to utter the string of profanities swimming in my head (which is probably a good thing). Nothing I can do, so I keep shooting pictures!

I’m rewarded with a few really good ones, but I spend a good portion of the day cursing the nasty habit of sliding my glasses on the top of my head when I’m using the camera. Damn it! I got to get better at this…

Expect this...

... Then this...

... and definitely get out of the way for THIS!

The rest of the day is uneventful, bordering almost on the boring side. No more nature shows. I’m a little disappointed: this time last year, right in this stretch of the ocean, we were seeing turtles all around us. This time we see only one, and it disappears underwater before I can even see it properly. No pelicans flying overhead, either. How odd…

There’s still no wind, the engine keeps droning on. It eventually gets dark and we start our night watches. I take the first one, and sure enough things finally get more interesting. There’s a steady stream of tankers, cruise ships, huge cargo vessels going up and down the coast. We’re in the neighborhood of Lazaro Cardenas, a commercial port drawing a lot of traffic.

All the activity at sea keeps me awake and interested. I take note of which ship is going to come closer to us, how much time before that happens, the vessel’s name in case I have to hail them. For fun I check their destination and their Estimated Time of Arrival: some are heading for Panama, some for Japan, some even for the Soviet Union! Most of these crews are going to be at sea for many weeks. The one bound for the Soviet Union will get there mid-March!

 I’m not clairvoyant, people… I just use my electronics to the full extent of their capacity! I can gather a lot of information using our AIS (Automatic Identification System).  And no, I’m not wiping the smug grin off my face…

A cruise ship passes by me pretty close; it’s four stories high and lit like a little town! I’m imagining people aboard having fun. This is how I spend my night watches… Watching!

I’m getting tired, yawning more frequently and at shorter intervals. I’m really relieved to see Tom popping up in the cockpit, ready to take over. After a brief exchange of information I head for my lovely bed. I think I fell asleep before actually lying down on it!

I must have been sleeping like a log, because I was still deep in dreamland when Tom comes to gently wake me up! “Baby” he says “I’m getting tired, I can’t stay awake any longer”. Shoot! He let me oversleep, four hours instead of the usual three. And he also made a fresh pot of coffee for me! What a guy… I jump off the bed and groggily take my place. Everything is quiet, the heavy traffic has moved farther at sea; not much to do but let my mind wander, drink coffee and eat chocolate. I observe that the night gets darkest just in the hour before daybreak, funny how I never noticed before…

We’re getting close to another traffic spot, by seven in the morning I’m dodging tankers again. I can barely see this huge behemoth on my right (900 feet long) but it’s too close for comfort, so I alter course a little to put some more distance between us. But wait! I can’t move too much because I have another one close by to my left! Damn it if they’re not sandwiching me… I spend a good and tense ten minutes waiting for either one of them to pass on, and end up getting a lot of big waves form their proximity. “Well, good morning to you, too! Big bullies…” I know they can’t hear me, and I seriously doubt they even see me bobbing wildly in their wake.

The sun finally appears, and at the same time so does Tom. So nice to have company!

We should be arriving in another three hours or so. We start seeing far away in the distance a few sailboats traveling in the opposite direction and occasionally cross paths with one close by. We’re pleasantly surprised by a couple of radio calls coming from the closest boats: one from the sailing vessel Mazu and one from the catamaran Just in Time, both heading north. They’re friends we have sailed with last year, and it’s nice to chat with them for awhile, catching up with each other. The funniest part is they both said they recognized us by our flashy orange dinghy cover! I guess we couldn’t travel incognito if we wanted to…

Entrance of Zihuatanejo Bay

Houses perched on Zihuatanejo's Hills

Soon we approach Zihuatanejo, we’re both relieved to be almost at destination. We enter the wide bay; it’s crowded with boats at anchor, both wandering sailors like us and local fishing and commercial boats. Regardless, we find the perfect place to drop the anchor.

Pretty Neighborhood!

Playa La Ropa - Zihuatanejo

It’s 14:45. This trip lasted almost 31 hours, all of them motoring with the current against us. Bless our engine, it must be tired, too!

After settling Camelot for rest it’s finally our time to relax. A cold beer for the Captain, a Diet Coke for me, we toast the completion of yet another safe trip. Believe me, we never take it for granted!

The rest of the day goes by in a haze of laziness interrupted only by dinner preparations. We turn in for an early night: it’s amazing how tiring it is, traveling long distances with short stops and barely enough rest before starting the next day all over again! Not that I’m complaining: this is the life we chose for ourselves, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

We’re going to spend the night here and most of the day tomorrow, before leaving for Acapulco.

My favorite house on Zihuatanejo Bay

After completing the last few formalities we manage to finally untie the lines.

Slowly exiting the La Cruz Marina, Tom and I are still discussing our destination. Yes, it’s that bad… We leave without even knowing for sure where we’re going… There are a few options: we could travel a few hours and anchor just around the corner at Punta Ipala and spend the night, or we could keep going straight to Las Hadas if conditions allow. Ah, well, let’s just go, we’ll figure it out along the way.

We’re both quiet, lost in our own thoughts; I guess we’re both a little sad to be leaving La Cruz, but neither of us wants to talk about it. What is there to say after all… In any case, we’re soon distracted by the radio going off: someone is hailing us! It turns out to be our friends from the sailing vessel Abracadabra, we cross paths while traveling in opposite directions. They recognized us from afar, they said, by the bright orange of our dinghy. And they’re more than a mile away from us! I guess it’s a good thing to be visible at sea, right?

We eventually turn the point, officially exiting Bahia de Banderas, and are now in the open ocean. The next safe spot for anchoring is a few miles to our left, just about a couple of hours away. It’s time to decide: stop for the night or keep going? The sea is calm enough, although there’s no wind. We decide to press on and aim for Las Hadas, Manzanillo. To be honest, I’m not thrilled about traveling overnight after two months safely ensconced in a marina… But hey, you have to get back in the groove somehow! So, on we go.

About an hour after our decision is made the sea turns choppy, the wind blows stronger but from the wrong direction and we also have a strong and disagreeable current slowing us down. Ah, screw it; we’ll just have to deal with it.

It turns out to be quite an uncomfortable night, motoring all the long way to Manzanillo with quartering seas making Camelot bob like a cork in the water. But we eventually get there, and in pretty decent shape after all. There’s something to be said about sleep, even in three hours increments, even while you’re tossed around your bed like a forgotten bag of laundry… 

Houses on the hills, entering Manzanillo Bay

Las Hadas looks as beautiful as ever

Las Hadas is as beautiful as it was when we were here this time last year. The anchorage is quite populated, about 20 boats are scattered in the bay. We find our spot and easily drop the anchor. Good to know I retained my skills: it’s been almost five months since my last anchoring procedure!

It’s now eleven in the morning. We’ve been rolling (literally!) for a little over 25 hours.

We’re both bone-tired, and the best idea that comes to mind is to go lay by the pool and snooze in style.

We better rest well: early tomorrow morning we’ll resume our wandering ways with an even longer trip.

So, all I need right now is a towel and a glass of orange juice. I just know there’s a lounge chair by the pool with my name on it. Life at sea can be this easy. Sometimes, anyway…

World Class place. Did I mention they filmed the movie TEN here?

I can’t believe it’s been over a month since the last posting! Time really flies when you’re busy… Let’s try to recap what went on during  this last month.

On Jan 17^th Camelot was returned to the water: she left the boatyard with a smooth, sleek, blue belly. Gone are the ugly scars she carried from her encounter with a whale over a year ago, she’s now as good as new.

I’m also sure that the boatyard workers were relieved, having been under siege during the whole process… We followed their every move from our vantage point!

Big Daddy is watching your every move...

New paint drying off

 

All new, sleek and BLUE! Maybe now the whales will stay away?

Camelot walking down the isle... Back in the water she goes!

We immediately started busying ourselves with preparations for our impending departure, originally scheduled for January 31^st.

However, as it often happens, our plans went down the drain… A family emergency had me leaving La Cruz in a hurry, bound for Italy. My Grandmother Adele was nearing her end and I wanted to be with her and my Mother to offer moral support and whatever practical help I could. An estimated weeklong absence turned into three weeks. On February 6^th, after a slow and painful agony, Adele passed away.

She was 101 years, 6 months and 20 days old. She retained her full mental sharpness until the very end.  Here’s to you, Grandma. Nobody else is ever going to lovingly call me Devil Girl…

This is the hardest part of the cruising life, being far from your loved ones. Thank God for phones, emails, and airports…

With mixed feelings I returned to La Cruz and to Tom, whom I left behind for three weeks. We’re usually joined at the hip, so being apart doesn’t come easy to either one of us.

Together we resumed our preparations, adjusting our itinerary for a faster trip South to make our deadline of exiting Mexico within the first week of March.

Once ready to go, we had to postpone a few more days for unfavorable weather. Finally, the departure date was set for Monday, Feb. 20^th .

The entrance at Ana Banana's, our home away from Camelot

This is what the place looks like before the crowds come in

Those little bags hanging above Tom's head contain the ashes of friends who will continue to enjoy the atmosphere even after they're gone (but never forgotten).

We spent our last night in La Cruz enjoying one more time the fabulous Sunday BBQ Rib Dinner at Ana Banana’s, listening to amazing music and enjoying one last time the company of many of the good friends we made here.

Lalo and Shelley, part of the friendly crew at Ana Banana's. See that wall? Our boat's name is on there somewhere!

Busy Man Barry (owner of the place), with namesake Ana behind him. Pondering the next menu or music gig?

Both Tom and I hate goodbyes, but it was inevitable. It took us quite a long while to hug and kiss everyone, promising to keep in touch. I managed to get away with dry eyes, even! Well, almost…

We said it before: La Cruz is a unique place populated by very special people, and we wouldn’t hesitate to settle down here if our cruising days were over. Maybe in a decade or so… There’s more sea to cover and more adventures to experience still…

To all of our dear friends who made our many stays in La Cruz so very memorable and pleasant, I offer our sincerest thanks and gratitude. You will not soon be forgotten!  I hope the same is true for us.

ADIOS, La Cruz De Huanacaxtle!      

View of Banderas Bay's anchorage, Puerto Vallarta in the background

Octopussy's Garden, another popular little restaurant in La Cruz

Also a Huichol Indians' Art Gallery and venue of English language classes for locals.

Nature's Gift to cruisers. La Cruz is the pot of gold found at the end of the rainbow...

It doesn’t take long for us to fall back into the relaxed rhythm of Life in La Cruz. Well, we make it a point of it being a relaxed rhythm. There’s so much to do if so inclined, you could keep yourself busy every waking hour of every day!

This time our stay here is geared towards getting Camelot hauled out for regular maintenance. There’s a myriad of little projects to tackle before she gets in the shipyard, so every day is spent in equal amounts of work and rest. The fun and games will have to wait until we’re caught up!

This doesn’t prevent us from enjoying the Christmas Potluck Dinner held on the dock on Christmas Eve. Well, Tom was able to fully attend, while I –plagued with yet another cold- observed the scene from Camelot’s cockpit, waving at the crowd like the Queen of England and keeping my germs to myself…

Christmas Eve's Potluck Dinner on the dock

The Soul of the Party

As soon as I recover from my cold, it’s Tom’s turn. We share everything, germs included. A few days of miserable hacking and coughing go by. Then on January 6^th we get an invitation to go sailing on a neighbors’ 63-foot Catamaran called Profligate. The owners of the catamaran, Richard and Dona, are the publishers of a popular marine periodical called Latitude 38. Everyone in the marine industry or even with just a faint marine interest knows this publication, so we kind of feel flattered to be sailing with celebrities! 

Our host Richard and a bunch of happy people

There’s a fun group of people making up the crew for this day of sailing. Some we know, some we don’t. We leave the docks with the intention of sailing up and down Banderas Bay, zooming by Puerto Vallarta.

Before we can even raise our sails, however, Richard spots a sailboat in distress: it looks firmly aground on a neighboring beach. We divert our course to go offer assistance, but there’s already a Mexican Coast Guard vessel standing by and four pangas already tied up to the sailboat, trying to pry it off the beach. 

Mexican Coat Guard at the scene

Richard – a reporter first and foremost – stands by, trying to get more information on what’s going on.

In the meantime, I’m taking a lot of pictures. And let me brag here for a second… Two of my pictures end up being published, supporting an article about this misadventure on the following Wednesday’s edition of ‘Lectronic Latitude! 

Sparviero, the unfortunate sailboat in trouble

Pangas to the rescue!

Finally the unfortunate sailboat, named Sparviero, is freed from the sands ‘clutches and happily floats away, apparently unscathed. With cheers of joy we resume our day-sail and spend a good few hours enjoying Banderas Bay and the excellent performances of Profligate’ flying her colorful spinnaker. 

Tom raising the gigantic spinnaker on Profligate

Tom at the helm on Profligate

Profligate's enourmous and colorful Spinnaker

Yes, I was there, too...

It’s now January 10^th.     The day has come for Camelot  to go to the beauty Parlor (also known as La Cruz Shipyard).

Both Tom and I are a little unnerved. It’s never easy to see your floating home lifted out of the water and toted around… 

Driving into the shipyard's dock

All strapped up and ready to go

Lifting her out! This is the worst moment for me...

From the water to the yard. I'm still biting my nails...

But the guys at the shipyard are true professionals. Effortlessly and with quiet efficiency they haul Camelot out in what seems to me record time and proceed to give her bottom a thorough bath. 

Tickling her belly! A much needed bath

Left hung to dry off

After closely observing the action for a long while, Tom and I leave the shipyard to go move into our temporary home.

We rented a Casita, located just a few steps up the hill from the yard.

La Casita!

We barely set down our bags in our new home, when looking across the garden we see Camelot’s mast passing by! 

So weird to see Camelot's mast passing by...

The boatyard workers are moving her to her spot, which turns out to be just below our little apartment. Tom is thrilled! Needless to say, we cross the lawn separating our apartment from the boat multiple times a day to watch the progress… 

Tom watching the action across the lawn

Tom is watching... Camelot moving around!

Our accommodations are luxurious by our standards. The Casita has a distinctive Mexican flavor. 

Checking on Camelot from the living room is easy!

The colorful and airy Kitchen

We have a small bedroom and bathroom behind doors. Everything else –kitchen, living room- is in the open air and we absolutely love it.

French (Mexican?) Door to our Room

Our Bedroom

The Bathroom

We’re very comfortable here. As a bonus, there are three Labrador Retrievers –one of them a puppy-.   

Paco on the right, Parker on the left

Parker "parked" at the entrance of our bedroom

There’s Paco, the senior at 14 years of age; then Parker, about 8 yrs, who has a knack for parking himself at your feet wherever you are; and finally, Dawgie the little hellion, 10 weeks old and with a penchant for shoes – Particularly Tom’s sandals.

Dawgie the Hellion, retrieving (or stealing?) Tom's sandal

We certainly get our fill of canine love… Oh, there’s also a cat – but he’s too fast for my camera! 

The picture of relaxation. A man and his (borrowed) dog.

For the past few days one of our friends, Crazy Mike, has been not-so-subtly suggesting a Lasagna Dinner, so I decide to oblige by inviting him and whoever else wants to join for dinner at the Casita.

The early morning of January 12^th finds me busy at the open-air stove. By 11 o’clock I have produced two MASSIVE trays of lasagna and Tom has prepared a huge amount of mixed salad. Whew! We now have a few hours to relax before the guests arrive…

We end up feeding “only” ten people. I have enough for 24! So this morning I placed the rest of the meal into the freezer for future use.

Today, Friday 13^th, is going to be a lazy day for us. Camelot’s bottom has been sanded down to the original fiberglass, and is now sporting a military-grey double coat of primer. The ugly and deep scratches left by our encounter with a whale last year have magically disappeared.  Tomorrow the first of two coats of new paint will be applied – Marine Blue this time! We’re hoping to have Camelot back in the water by next Tuesday at the latest.

In the meantime, we keep enjoying life on land. Tonight we’re attending a Hula Hoop Dance show. Before you roll your eyes, let me tell you a juicy detail about this show: the Hula loops are set on fire as the dancers’ perform their routine… Now, THAT is something I wouldn’t do… But I’m more than happy to watch others do it!

This is all for the moment, folks! I’ll resume my reporting once there’s something new to say.

Wishing everyone – belatedly – a Happy New Year.

Dec 21^st – Back to La Cruz!

Having seen everything we came to see, at first light we leave San Blas.

Tom had wisely traced the course on his chart plotter when we came in guided by the pilot a few days ago, so all we have to do now to safely get out of the Marina is follow it backwards. Sort of the equivalent of leaving an electronic breadcrumb trail…  God bless modern technology!

We get out, no sweat, no drama, no problems. Just the way we like it.

We’re traveling further south; La Cruz is our next port of call, just a few miles down the road. There are a couple of interesting and safe little anchorages along the way, but knowing Tom and his love for La Cruz I’m pretty sure we’re going to pass them by without a second glance.

And sure enough, Tom confirms what I already know. He starts by saying “You know that it’s already been seven months since we left La Cruz?”, then “I can’t wait to see everybody at Ana Bananas”. All I have left to do is agree to make a bee line for La Cruz.

The sea is as flat as a mirror and there’s not enough wind to sail, so we motor for a long while. I’m on “extreme whale watch” and am soon rewarded by the sight of a pod of humpback whales happily frolicking in the water.

Eventually, as we turn the corner to enter Banderas Bay, there’s finally enough wind to enjoy a nice sail all the way to the Marina.

We’re both very happy to be back here. This is our most favorite place, populated by our most favorite people. There’s a  whole lot of friends here we’ll be happy to see again.

As we enter the Marina, we see our slip lined up with friends ready to assist. Nice surprise!

 I jump off the boat and haven’t even started to tie her up when I get a pat on my shoulder, a “Welcome Back!” and most importantly a “So, when’s the Lasagna Dinner?” All of the above from the friendly dock workers who, despite the seven-month-interlude, apparently still remember vividly the last Dock Workers Feed thrown by Tom and I before we left.

Tom is jumping out of his skin; he’s so impatient to go surprise our friends at Ana Banana’s! But it’s Wednesday evening and we think it’s better to wait and catch the big crowd tomorrow at Breakfast.

There’s plenty of time, we’re going to be here until the end of January.

We settle Camelot into her slip, hug our boating buddies and catch up briefly with them before turning in for an early night.

Dec 22^nd  – La Cruz: a Warm Welcome

A good, restful night and we’re ready to tackle the day!

By 9:15 we’re on our way to breakfast and The Reunion. Along the way we wonder if after all this time our friends will recognize Tom. He does look quite different, having chopped off his long mane and lost quite a few pounds in the Hot Summer in the Sea of Cortez! Me, well, I look the same and haven’t lost an ounce… So I send Tom in first, hiding behind his considerable frame. Vantage point! I get to see the reactions.

The first friend in our line of sight is Leon. Tom remains quiet, smiling broadly. Leon looks at him and moves on. Then he stops, does a double-take and speechlessly raises his index finger, pointing at Tom.

The rest of the bunch (there must have been a good dozen of people at the breakfast table), alarmed by Leon’s strange behavior and probably suspecting him of having a stroke, finally follows Leon’s gaze. Then it’s chaos: a noisy eruption of genuine joy, ranging from “Look who’s back!” to “Hey, you old fart!” and everything in between.

Now, this is what I call a Warm Welcome. It feels like coming home.

A surprise at every step, that’s how I’d describe San Blas.

A small, quiet harbor town with old world charm and a lot of history, documented as far as 1530. In 1768 San Blas was officially founded and became the Pacific naval port for New Spain, with a population nearly three times what it is today.

Well preserved traces of those times can still be found.

La Contaduria, a cross between Fortress and Accounting Headquarters

La Contaduria, both an armed fort and the accounting office for San Blas, sits atop a hill overlooking the ocean. Despite the damages inflicted by Hurricane Kenna in 2002, a good number of the original cannons are still in place.  

Necessary equipment to protect the Financial Department

That's one BadAss Chief Financial Officer!

The poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow found here the inspiration to write the famous poem “The Bells of San Blas”.

The plaza is the center of social life, where everyone gathers after working hours: we walked through the little artisan’s market, stopped in the plaza to admire and compare the old and new churches standing side by side, listening to local singers perform songs about San Blas.

Old Church bell tower to the left, New Church bell towers to the right

Crafts and souvenirs market

 

Christmas decorations on Plaza buildings

We sat and people-watched for hours, attempting a conversation with some friendly residents despite the deafening screeching of the birds perched in the trees. One thing came through clearly: these people love their town and are proud of it.

The Old Church

The New Church

We walked by many restaurants and burger joints, there’s something for every taste here. The local specialty, smoked fish, is sold in small tiendas along the road. Baked goods are plentiful. The ice cream parlor offers a variety of treats.

Restaurants on the street busy smoking the catch of the day. Which one to choose?

A variety of Smoked Fish!

After a typical Mexican meal in a restaurant on the Plaza, we made a stop at Billy Bob’s Pub. This is a very popular place among American and Canadian visitors. It has the feel of an old saloon, the décor is incredibly colorful and Glenda the bartender has a smile for everyone. Not to mention the big screen TV broadcasting sport events… 

Outdoor section of Billy Bob's Pub

Art on the wall at the Pub.

Slowly walking back to the Marina, well fed and satisfied, we exchange opinions and impressions about San Blas.

Tom and I agree: it was well worth stopping here and we’re glad we did.

There’s quite a lot to do and see in the deceivingly sleepy town of San Blas! We decide to start our day with a thorough exploration of the jungle.

No trip to San Blas would be complete without a jungle tour and a stop at La Tovara Springs!

Along with four other cruisers, we board our very own Panga; the boat’s name is Chiki and our Tour Guide today is Paco, a 15 year old really nice kid.

Our valiant vessel Chiki with expert guide Paco

Down the Rio Tovara

We start winding up the lush river, Rio Tovara. The first thing I notice is the “river smell” in the air, faint but unmistakably musky. Paco guides his Panga to the left, entering a mysterious and intricate mess of channels and waterways. Soon the light is dimmed by a canopy of vegetation. 

The mysterious waterways leading into the jungle

Disturbing the peace and startling the birds

At first we rely solely on Paco to point out the half-hidden fauna; it takes us maybe 20 minutes to develop “the sight” and start seeing mud-colored crocodiles spread out on mud-colored tree trunks sunning themselves. 

I assure you, this is NOT a rubber toy!

Puppy Crocodile taking a Siesta in the sun

A Youngster guarding the Mangroves

It’s amazingly quiet in here; the only noise is the gentle sloshing of the murky waters against the hull of the boat. Occasionally a startled bird crosses our path. It’s a little eerie, I feel like someone is watching us… 

I'm watching you!

Paco does a great job; in his limited English he tells us the names of every animal or plant we see, slowing down or stopping to allow us to take pictures. This kid knows his jungle inside out! I almost want to call him Mowgli, like the fictional character of The Jungle Book stories by Rudyard Kipling…

Meet Paco, our Guide

There are over 300 species of birds found in the area, and I believe we’ve seen most of them during the tour: boat-billed herons, tiger herons, egrets, falcons, and so many more I’ve never seen before. 

Tiger Heron, just hanging

A very watchful Falcon

Landing gear deployed...

I’m particularly enjoying the front-bench seat on the boat that I’m sharing with Nico (from Holland), another cruiser and avid photographer. Totally oblivious to the quiet chatter on the boat, we keep taking pictures like maniacs, frantically changing lenses every few seconds, pointing out to each other birds in flight and hidden turtles, the gist of our own conversation being pretty much “Did you get that? Did you get that?” Oh, a kindred and equally possessed spirit!

Such grateful creatures

No idea who this busybody is... but he's cute!

Within a couple of hours my neck is killing me, craning this way and that, looking up and down. Toughen up, girl! There’s a lot more to see…

These are Boat-billed Herons

We arrive at what looks like a Y intersection in the river, and I wonder what lies beyond each little estuary. It’s so disorienting here, between all the vegetation and the tiny rivulets I could get lost in here within 30 seconds.

Paco hangs a right and the river opens up; we’re in the clear again, no vegetation overhang for a while… It sure is nice to feel the sun’s warmth on my skin again!

We pass by a few bamboo and palm-leaf buildings sticking out of the water; those were built years ago and are what’s left of a movie set. I can certainly see the potential for movies all around me! 

Some prime Real Estate!

Guest House, complete with Cow Skull Decor

We’ve been out on the river for more than three hours and it’s now lunch time, a break and some food are exactly what we need. Paco proceeds at a little faster speed now towards our first destination, Tovara Springs. I guess he desperately needs a break too, and I don’t blame him! 

 

Approaching La Tovara Springs

Tom dwarfed by the jungle vegetation

The little Restaurant at La Tovara Springs

We arrive at Tovara Spring and take a one-hour break for lunch. It’s a very small place. There’s a tiny, cute restaurant and the mandatory tourist shop and a nice corner where people can swim in the protected, clear spring waters. 

And finally, the cool waters of La Tovara Springs!

Paco declines our invite to have lunch with us, preferring a little solitude and –I’m sure- some peace and quiet. The rest of us sit down for a simple and tasty meal, exchanging opinions and impressions on the trip so far.

Our companions, the crew from the vessel Mangareva. From left: Elaine, Nico, Mark and Gail

All refreshed and happy after lunch our trip resumes, although most of us are clamoring for a siesta. That’s what a belly full of tacos and beer does to most people…

Paco seems to know that it’s best to hurry the remainder of the trip a little, before we fade altogether. At a good clip he drives the boat down yet another tiny river that opens in to Camalota Spring. 

Camalota Springs

Here a local family operates a crocodile refuge. In all honesty, after seeing so much wildlife out there in the open and more crocodiles than I can count, somehow I don’t quite appreciate this place. However, here I see for the first time a Collared Peccary, also known as “musk pig”. Of course I stuck my hand on the snout of the closest one and sort of made friends with it, naming it Miss Piggy. They’re pretty small and live in herds, and later someone told me they can be pretty aggressive. Not my sweet Miss Piggy!

Miss (or Mr) Piggy - A Collared Peccary

We’re all quite tired by now, barely exchanging a word as we pile in the boat to start our return trip. Paco has a knowing smile on his face, I’m sure he’s seen wiped-out Gringos before…

We retrace our tracks at a more sustained speed, it’s quite fun to actually zoom down the river. The air feels much cooler now and we have quite a long way to go. I wish I brought a sweater… Not something you say often in Mexico! 

Zooming in and out of the Mangroves

To take my mind off the chill in the air, I take the last few pictures when young Paco slows down –he does slow down for Turtles!-. 

River Turtles

Very "Seventies" attire...

Ah, lazying off in the sun

Finally we come full circle, returning to the point where this adventure started just this morning. We’ve been out about 5 intense hours and seen so much of such a different environment. It almost feels like I just visited some other planet!

We gratefully thank Paco (and tip him accordingly) for his excellent service. Everyone in our group is absolutely thrilled and thoroughly satisfied; we all have huge grins on our faces.

This Tutle's satisfied grin resembles our own at the end of the day