SAILING CAMELOT

Another peaceful overnight trip under our belt!

It’s 7 am and we’re looking at the strip of land that should be San Blas.

Sadly, this sleepy fishing town holds a bad reputation among the cruising community: there is an alarming rate of theft, mainly directed towards boaters. The main target is usually the outboard engine on the dinghies that we all carry. In the past few months there were 7 of them stolen, and just a few weeks ago a cruising boat left (locked!) at anchor for a few hours was broken into.

We bypassed this little town twice during our earlier trips up and down the coast of Mexico, for this very reason. But this is our last chance to visit San Blas and learn about its rich history, and take a scenic jungle tour through Rio Tovara.

We debated long and hard about stopping here, eventually deciding to stay at the local Marina Fonatur, hopefully a more secure environment.

The first challenge, however, presents itself as we approach the entrance to the channel that will take us to the Marina. 

Excuse me, WHERE IS the blasted entrance???

San Blas is a protected port, securely ensconced a good 2 miles up this very shallow channel. We have been warned by many other visitors about the sand bar crossing and the shallow water surrounding the breakwater entrance. It can become a dangerous place during certain swell conditions, and the guidance of a local Pilot is strongly recommended. 

Meet our Pilot - His name is Osyris

Quick! Follow that Panga!

I start hailing the Port Captain on the radio at about 8 in the morning, to request a Pilot to bring us in. After many unanswered calls, finally an hour and a half later a Pilot is sent out to meet us.

We're not the only ones following the Pilot... The Pelicans, too!

We slowly follow the zig-zag pattern the Pilot carves in the water, nor daring to stray an inch. I busy myself taking pictures, my equivalent of burying my head in the sand, leaving Tom to deal with it.

The pretty shore of San Blas - a small portion, actually...

Along the way to the Marina

Old and rusty, but still active! The fishing fleet of San Blas

By 10 am we’re safely tied up to the dock at Marina Fonatur San Blas.

The air is much warmer than it was in Mazatlan, Tom is grinning ear to ear. We get to meet and personally thank our Pilot, a young and very nice fellow named Osiris.

Camelot at the Marina Fonatur San Blas, easily recognizable by the kayaks on the sides

Today we’ll rest and take inventory of our immediate surroundings, leaving further explorations for tomorrow.

Perfect Sunset to end yet another Perfect Day

We have visited Mazatlan twice before and thoroughly enjoyed out stay both times. This third visit is specifically planned for one purpose only: engine maintenance. Our trusted Yanmar engine needs its 1000 hours Service.

The best -and only- Yanmar specialist is right here and since Camelot deserves the best, well, here we are.

We take our favorite spot in Marina El Cid, conveniently situated next to the pool. Although the weather is clear and sunny, there’s a nip in the air reminding us that it is December after all. Despite the nip, most days we can be found in the Hot Tub section of the pool. Wild horses couldn’t drag me in the much cooler waters of the two adjacent pools: I remain happily confined in the steamiest corner until my skin turns a sickly shade of lobster-pink.

Tom, my dear social butterfly, manages to make even more new friends. New dock neighbors, Canadian snowbirds on vacation, local workers: you name them, we met them.

There’s also a whole bunch of friends both in this Marina and in the other two marinas close by, so a lot of time is spent visiting and catching up with them, usually commuting between the Marinas by kayak –to my delight!-. On one occasion we logged a four-mile paddle trip… My arms trembled for two days after that. 

A Happy Paddler

Creatures encountered during our kayaking trips

The maintenance of our engine takes several days. I watch Rafael, a truly gifted and very competent mechanic, methodically and confidently dismantling bits and pieces. I’m fascinated and unnerved, it’s like watching surgery. But I really start freaking out when he takes parts of the engine away with him, to be cleaned and tested. My poor cannibalized Yanmar doesn’t look too good… 

Our beloved engine missing half of its components.

We have plenty of time to take a few trips to Old Town Mazatlan. We notice a marked difference from last year: there’s a lot less tourists around. This time last year there were about three cruise ships a week visiting Mazatlan. This year we haven’t seen any. Some people say the cruise ship companies skip Mazatlan citing safety concerns; others think it’s all about the increased Port costs these big ships have to pay. Regardless, the town people are clearly suffering economically.

These curious vehicles are called Pulmonias and take you all around town.

Despite the declining number of tourists, the good citizens of Mazatlan lavishly decorated the town for the Holidays. 

The Plaza - Notice my Christmas gift beside the tree - the one with a red shirt

Real Size Santa's Workshop!

On December 12th the town celebrates the Virgin of Guadalupe with processions and parades.

The Virgin of Guadalupe is a celebrated Roman Catholic icon of the Virgin Mary. Under this title, she is officially proclaimed by the Roman Catholic Church “Empress of Latin America, Protector of Unborn Children and Patron Saint of Mazatlan”. 

La Catedral De La Inmaculada Concepcion

Interior Main Section of the Cathedral

Need a snack or a prayer book? Can get them right here!

As soon as our engine is back together, we take one last provisioning trip and start planning our departure.

Tom, constantly complaining about the “cold” weather, is itching to get further south. We want to get to La Cruz – Banderas Bay by Christmas, maybe stopping along the way a couple of days.

And so it is that on 1 pm on Saturday December 17th we leave Mazatlan for good, after properly saying our goodbyes to places and people.

We have an overnight trip ahead of us, but we’re ready and giddy with anticipation: our next destination is San Blas, about 130 nautical miles away.

We went to bed at 9 pm last night, planning to leave by 4 am this morning. I’m still in bed but wide awake, thinking of getting up quietly without disturbing Tom, when I hear him “Hon? You awake? What do you say, want to leave NOW?”.  I guess our sleep patterns are all screwed up: it’s 2 am, and we’re both awake! No point diddling, we might as well go. Just let me get that coffee pot going, and I’m ready!

We leave the dock precisely at 2:37 am. It’s pitch black out here, the channel markers are all lit up but somehow it looks confusing. Some lights that are supposed to be red are yellow instead, adding to the confusion… Tom is concentrating fiercely on following the channel, carefully avoiding anchored cargo ships and the dredging barge. There’s nothing for me to do but keep my mouth shut and exercise my eyeballs in the dark… We’re quiet and a little nervous, not a word is exchanged for a long while. It’s dead silent around us as well, at least until a huge sea lion pops his head out of the water –right behind Tom- and lets out a noisy, heavy sigh. We both jumped about a foot in the air, startled and scared shitless. The feisty beast ends up noisily escorting us almost all the way to open sea.

Once we reach the deep waters, we turn left and exhale. Finally, we can let coffee flow freely!

There’s not going to be a chance in hell to sail, today. Oh, there’s plenty of wind blowing all right, but from the wrong direction – on our nose… So we resign to the hypnotic drone of our trusted engine, knowing that for the next day and a half it will be our soundtrack.

The sea is not cooperating, either. We get annoying waves at short intervals, making for a slightly uncomfortable ride. To complete the picture, the usually-cobalt-blue skies are grey with big ominous clouds and it’s a little cooler than what we like. What a gloomy day! We look at each other, shaking our head and muttering “this sucks!”more than once. It’s not always perfect…

It also gets dark around 6 pm, making for a long night. I take the first watch. I guess we’re in the middle of “Shrimp County” here, since for over 35 miles now I’ve been passing a long line of shrimpers. They’re much closer to shore than we are, all lined up like a platoon ready for inspection. How they don’t get their nets all tangled up in each others’ is a mystery to me… But hey, I’m fine as long as they don’t get tangled in my propeller…

I wake up Tom, partly because I feel I’m getting tired and partly because I’m bored out of my mind. Also, I’m approaching two big fishing boats and am uncertain on how to pass them: keep my course and go between them, or take a wide right and loop around them? It’s a simple decision, but when I’m tired not even that comes easy… So I take the cowardly route and wake up the Captain. Let him deal with that…

There’s something to be said about going to sleep in a pre-warmed bed! So comforting, it even makes you forget the excessive sea motion!

When I come back up a few hours later, I see that we’re smack in the middle of a fishing fleet – like the hole in a donut!

Tom sees my sleepy and worried face and quickly reassures me. Apparently, the fishing fleet is moving to a different fishing spot and their nets are not deployed while they move. So we travel in amicable company with these giants, invisible in the darkness but for their cluster of deck lights -as bright as street lights-. We march together at a safe distance of one or two miles from each other for a few hours, then they all slowly accelerate away from us.

All alone again we now entertain ourselves watching the lights on the coast, more frequent and intense, signaling bigger cities. Oh, joy! We also get rained on, pretty heavily. To distract me for the gloom, Tom shows me what a squall looks like on radar. It looks like there’s a big island in front of you! But it’s not land; it’s just the reflection of the rain.

Wait a minute… Does that mean that in about 4 miles we’re going to get even heavier rain? Oh, great.

It stays like this, gloom, rain, rain, gloom, until we arrive in Mazatlan.  Then the winds get stronger, the waves get bigger and a pod of whales decides to cross our bow on their way to breakfast. It’s been a while since we spotted whales, but they’re now back so we’ll have to resume “whale-watch” …

Finally we safely arrive to destination: El Cid Marina in Mazatlan. We’re both bone-tired, the trip of 248 miles lasted about 34 hours. I know, I am whining… But having spent a long summer island-hopping and traveling only short distances, it’ll take me a bit to get used to longer stretches again.

In any case, we’re going to stay in Mazatlan for two weeks.  We’re happy to be back here.

Refreshed and ready to take on the world! Or at the very least, the neighborhood… 

Bronze Statue of a Humpback Whale with its Calf outside the Marina

Statue honoring the Fishermen of Topolobampo

Five of us boaters decide to visit the neighboring town of Los Mochis. It’s about a half hour trip in this snazzy orange and white bus.

The shiny bus taking us to Los Mochis

I spend every minute with my nose glued to the window. This is a heavily agricultural area: the main crop is sugar cane, but there are many fields cultivated with other crops I couldn’t identify. Every now and then there’s a handful of tiny and very modest cinderblock houses scattered on the sides of dirt roads, chickens, pigs and dogs roaming lazily around.

Suddenly the scenery changes and we’re in town! Welcome to Los Mochis, population a little over 250,000.

It feels to me much more crowded than it probably is: I haven’t been rubbing shoulders with people for such a long time! But I immensely enjoy the sounds, the colors and smells of this city. Even if it’s almost overwhelming.

Tom is busy people watching, his favorite sport. The people here are all impeccably groomed, the women well dressed, hair coiffed and full make up on, the men mostly wearing white cowboy hats and shiny, beautiful cowboy boots. We are in the State of Sinaloa and these are the famous Sinaloa Cowboys!  We also see a huge number of school kids of all ages in their pristine white and navy uniforms. Everyone is chatting, calling to each other, clearly enjoying their socializing.

Cathedral downtown, with a convenient refreshments stand for the parishioners

The town center is bustling with activity. There are beautiful, modern and well stocked stores and a whole array of little stalls on the streets selling candy, food, hair accessories and a lot more. We find this big city incredibly clean! Clearly these people care about their town and take pride in its appearance. And they are incredibly friendly, too! Many men approach Tom -maybe because he’s big and blond and looks unmistakably like a foreigner-, to offer a warm welcome and wish us a pleasant visit. The great majority of people speak impeccable English, which surprises me immensely. They are curious about us, wanting to know where we come from, asking how we got here. There aren’t a lot of visitors here, and we sure stand out! We feel like the main attraction; Tom especially is soaking it all up.

After a very satisfying and very inexpensive meal, our group heads for the Botanical Gardens. The founder of this town was an American, Mr. Johnston, who started farming sugar cane and brought prosperity to Los Mochis. The Botanical Gardens are the grounds originally surrounding his home – of which sadly just some ruins remain-. But the grounds are stunningly beautiful.

Michelangelo Ibanez, a man who lives up to his name!

We encounter Michelangelo Ibanez, who works in the Gardens. Michelangelo’s job is –drum roll, please- carving trees! There are quite a lot of very old and dead tree trunks; Michelangelo brings them to life and transforms them into beautiful works of art by carving incredibly detailed scenes.

This Tree could take hours to observe in detail!

Nesteld in one branch...

Just a few of the guests on this tree

Another artful carving

Some are plainly visible; others are hidden in the natural holes and knots of the trees. You can look at one of these artworks for hours and still discover new details, like an inch-big owl head staring at you from a little hole in the tree.

The Cactus Garden

 

A twisted specimen from Central America

 

I never discovered where this path led to... but it's beautiful!

At day break we arrive at the entrance of the 10 miles long channel that will lead us into Marina Palmira, Topolobampo. Things start getting interesting now, as Topolobampo is also a busy commercial port. There are ferries coming from La Paz, cargo ships arriving, a variety of other vessels moving about, and in the middle of it all a dredging barge in full action!

The long channel is well marked but full of twists and a little confusing; if we stray just a tiny bit we risk running aground. Getting in will take some skills and a lot of concentration. We’re both very quiet as we slowly follow a tug boat towing a barge into port. Getting from open sea to the dock takes us almost two hours, and it’s possibly the most tiring part of the whole 28-hour-long trip!

Arrival Time: 8:30am. A Welcoming Committee surprises us as we pull into our slip. Our friends from the sailboats Serendipity and Taking Flight, who have been here for a few days already, are lined up on the dock to assist us. God bless fellow boaters!

We’ve just barely tied to the dock, when the Hug Fest begins: Hugh from Serendipity presents us with four delicious cinnamon rolls he baked himself (what a Guy!), just the kind of breakfast we need after the long sleepless night!

Kara, the sweet and chatty 8 year old crew member of Taking Flight, can’t wait to show us the Gingerbread House she just made. And what a beautiful work of art it is!

Kara's Gingerbread House - Front

Kara's Gingerbread House - Back

And from the Top!

Tom and I are cross-eye tired, but we both enjoy this warm welcome as long as we can. It’s 10 am by now and our friends all scatter in different directions to begin their day, leaving us to complete the arrival formalities with Rafael, the Harbormaster.

This process takes quite a while, mainly because Rafael is so friendly and welcoming, and wants to know all about us and our travels. Thankfully he speaks great English! In our sleep-deprived condition we couldn’t possibly follow a conversation in Spanish…

Welcome to Marina Palmira - Topolobampo

The Entrance to our Dock

After all is said and done, Tom and I retire on the boat and spend the rest of the day veggin’ out, recuperating our energies. Tomorrow we’ll start exploring our surroundings.

At 4:45 am on Tuesday 29^th we finally free Camelot from the clutches of San Carlos. Fumbling in the dark we soon find our way out of the Marina and into to the open sea. Adios, San Carlos! We’re giddy and excited as we begin our trip south. I’m sniffing the air like a Beagle, happily taking in the smell of the sea. I missed it more than I thought!

It’s a 187 nautical miles trip to our next port of call. We’re going to Topolobampo. Yeah, I know; what a funny, twisted name… We have very little information on this destination and don’t much know what to expect. We only know that it’s a safe spot where we can rest a day or two and interrupt the long haul south. A couple of fellow cruising boats are already there, it’ll be nice to get together again.

All in all, it’s a pretty uneventful, smooth trip. We even get to sail, if only for an hour. We rely on the faithful engine for the rest of this voyage. Still, it feels so good to be underway again!

We’re killing time in San Carlos, waiting for the solar panels arch to be completed. There’s a little progress every day, but it’s slow moving. I’m trying to learn patience and not succeeding. We can’t leave the boat, because Tom wants to observe every detail of the process and I’m getting bored out of my wits.

We get a steady stream of visitors, mostly the security guards and dock workers, all coming to see the progress. Camelot becomes Café Camelot. We provide coffee, tea, water, lemonade and Diet Cokes to whomever shows up, in exchange for some company and conversation. Thank God for those visits! They ease the boredom and provide entertainment and information. We learn for instance that a proper Mariachi Band is composed by 16 elements; that Pancho Villa is considered by most Mexicans au pair with Saddam Hussein; that the Indians in the mountains nearby defy aging, diabetes and cancer with their diet of roots and cactus leaves.

May I point out that our conversations are conducted mostly in Spanish… Even Tom is improving leaps and bounds! He used to say “Lori, come up here and translate!” Now all I occasionally get is “Lori, what’s that word …” So maybe this forced prolonged stay is good for something after all.

One whole day is spent learning to make Tamales, a traditional Mexican delicacy. Sara, the wife of one the security guards, shows up early one morning with two huge bags. One contains all the ingredients necessary to make Tamales, the other contains the biggest pot I have ever seen in my life! I wonder if it’ll even fit on my stove…

Tamales Expert Sara and her inept but eager apprentice (me!)

The last few Tamales getting made! Notice the lack of smiles by now... I am SO tired!

Anyway, energetic and mildly bossy Sara proceeds to bark orders and instructions. I’m more than slightly intimidated but follow her directions like a good little soldier. The process takes 7 hours and yields a total of 74 very tasty Tamales. I only wish it didn’t take 3 pounds of lard to make these things taste so good… My arteries are screaming for mercy already!

At the end of the ordeal my back is killing me and all I want to do is shower and go to bed. Sara is unfazed and very satisfied. She even pays me a backhanded compliment as she leaves: “You did pretty good for a Gringa!” But I’m too tired to even appreciate that.

Gama adjusting some details...

... And generating SPARKS!

Meanwhile, in the cockpit of Camelot a whole different war is being fought. Gama the Stainless God is laboriously fitting and adjusting pieces of the Arch among a flurry of sparks. Pretty dramatic show, especially as it gets dark. We have our own fireworks display on Camelot! By the way, Gama’s name means “Him Who Brings Light”. How appropriate!

End of a long day. Result: A Man and His Arch!

Next Step: get those Solar Panels up there.

Completion Day finally comes. The solar panels are mounted, connected and tested; everything works. Furthermore, we now also have kayak holders on the side of the boat. Tom is thrilled beyond description. We’re finally plotting our departure!

Arch finally completed, Panels are up. The guys take a well deserved break.

Gama and his assistant Sergio mounting the Kayak Holders

Kayak One in Place!

But due to a pesky cold that hits Tom and me in rapid succession, and unfavorable weather conditions, we have to delay yet a few more days. These beautiful surroundings are starting to look like a golden prison! I just want to GO!

Our Last Sunset in San Carlos

So long, Tetakawi Mountains!

We’re still in San Carlos and we’re getting antsy. The weather is cooling considerably and Tom, Summer Boy that he is, is itching to go south where the sun always shines and the water is warmer … But we’re tied up here waiting for our stainless steel Monster Arch to be built.

We decided a while ago that we could use more solar power and that the best position to put the additional panels would require an arch. Luckily, here in San Carlos is easy to find workers skilled in any kind of marine specialty. We are quickly introduced to the biggest Mexican man I’ve ever seen. His name is Gama, stainless steel specialist.

Gama speaks no English whatsoever, so it’s really interesting to communicate with him. Thankfully, the guy understands perfectly what we need and knows what he’s doing.

Gama and his assistant Sergio building the Monster Arch

Gama welding while Sergio tries to block the wind

It’s an exercise in patience for us; Gama needs some money upfront to buy the material, which will take a few days to get. Then the Manana Game starts. Manana literally means tomorrow, but it’s a figurative way of speaking. Could be tomorrow, next week, whenever. Hey, we’re in Mexico, do as the Mexicans do!

Gama is a busy man; he’s juggling other projects and lately the weather is either too windy or too rainy for him to be welding, so he prepares most of the stuff in his workshop. When the sun peeks thru the clouds, we wonder if Gama is going to show up. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t. But when he does, oh Lord, it’s a pleasure to see him work. It’s like
he performs a delicate dance when he’s welding. But I have to leave the boat when he starts banging metal around: I can’t stand my boat taking abuse…

Monster Arch in construction

That's going to be a huge bunch of metal on Camelot!

On Veteran’s Day we go to Puerto Penasco, to Craig and Linda’s house. Ever the good helpful friends, they drove our two big solar panels down from Arizona and we’re going up there to get them.

It’s a long road trip. Our rented car, a Volkswagen Jetta, eats mile after mile. The round trip is 1,200 kilometers, and takes us 15 hours. We leave at 4 in the morning, get there at 11, gratefully eat the lunch Linda and Craig have prepared for us (those guys are ANGELS!), grab our panels and start the return trip. It’s 7:30 pm by the time we’re back to the boat: a long, tiring day. But, once more thanks to our friends, we now have two more solar panels. Mission accomplished!

Craig and Linda, we owe you BIG time and hope you can join us at some point for a long stay on Camelot. Perhaps in the Caribbean?

Now it’s a matter of the weather cooperating for Gama to finish his masterpiece. Then it’ll be Tom’s turn to mount and connect them. Then and only then will we be able to leave San Carlos and start our trip south.

We are really hoping to leave by end of this week. Or one of these Mananas…

After months of driving my husband crazy, the object(s) of my obsession shows up. I can stop nagging, now.

It all started back in September, during our stay in Bahia Gonzaga. It was there that I first saw the object of my desire: a lean, mean, paddling machine! A Super Kayak, the perfect mean of transportation. I saw this lady paddling around in it, took a thorough close look, made a note of the brand and model, and started scheming… Now, I’m not one for wanting and I
usually don’t throw tantrums, but… I CAN! What Lori wants, Lori gets… Not even two months later, I got what I wanted. Feminine persistence wins again… With a lot of assistance, though…

It has to be said that the kayak I wanted comes from California, which added to the complexity. Trying to get stuff to Mexico without paying a fortune in duties is an art in itself. That’s where our good friends Craig and Linda came to the rescue. They’re from Tucson, Arizona, and they often drive to their casita in Puerto Penasco, Mexico – about 300 miles from San Carlos.

These things sticking out traveled from Tucson, Arizona to San Carlos, MX

They look mean, and they're still on the truck!

They volunteered -or were forced, it’s not clear – to be our “mules” and drive the kayaks to San Carlos. Yes, there are now TWO kayaks. You didn’t think I’d leave Tom deprived of a kayak, did you? He got a nice green one.

In any case, Craig and Linda arrived with my early Birthday present. I know it was quite complicated for them to do that, and for all the trouble they went through I’m profoundly grateful. Thank you guys, you truly are the best!

And special thanks to my Mom, which financed my Birthday present and Tom’s Christmas present! Yes, my nagging went on all the way to Italy… I guess everyone is happy I got my wish, for peace is finally restored!

Lori is happy.

Do I look happy enough? Because I AM!

Well, by now Tom is on a first name basis with pretty much everyone here, from the Marina workers to the waiters and waitresses at the various restaurants. It is starting to feel like home! The people here are so friendly and helpful, and we’re grateful for the many little favors and the attention they pay us; they play a huge part in making our stay pleasant.

Tom, ever the party guy, decided to do a Dockworkers Feed to honor these hard working guys; it’s our way to say “Thank You”. I’m thinking of starting an “InterPasta – Say It With Food” tradition, here. You know, inspired by the InterFlora Say It With Flowers idea…

On the morning of Thursday the 3rd, Tom is on a mission: he’s the designated Cook, and he wants to do Spaghetti in Ragout Sauce. This is a typical Italian dish, but even I defer to Tom since he cooks a truly mean Ragout sauce! My contribution to this team effort is the lowly cleanup task (not a small thing, after Tom’s mess!)

The First Shift!

Say "SPAGHETTI!"

Anyway, at about 12 noon the guys start showing up. Within a couple of minutes we have 12 hungry men sitting at the table! Well, some were sitting at the table, some on the couch with a plate on their lap, some sitting on the steps. In any case, who cares, we’re not formal here… And everyone was happily chomping away! The best compliment they could pay Tom? They all came up for seconds! Good thing we cooked 3 Kg of spaghetti…

It was a very gratifying experience for us and every single one of these guys was very appreciative, so it was a great outcome for all involved (even if I’m still scraping sauce off the galley cabinets). As they leave to go back to work, the guys ask us “what time is Dinner?”