Abracadabra -- the Movie

As we promised, in this brief shining moment that we have sufficient bandwidth, we are posting a video of our friend Irene deBrujin, sailing Abracadabra in Banderas Bay!  Cinematographer and commentator, Frank Chan (who will someday learn to say "Abracadabra").  Also staring Bryce Andrews (that's Captain Bryce Andrews) and First Mate Molly Arnold.

The Road to Mazatlan – March 9 – 18

La Cruz to Jaltemba (March 9/10)

At 10.30 we departed Muelle 4, B8 at the Marina Nayarit in La Cruz fully provisioned and with able crew imported from Spokane especially for the passage (our friend Bob Romano).  Molly nattered on about how we would return next year so she wouldn’t cry at the idea of leaving what, so far, has been her favorite place.  Winds were light so we motored and took advantage of the motor-generated electricity to make water.  And then we motored some more . . . this is what’s referred to in Mexico as “motor sailing” (motoring with sail up to give some stability to the boat; read: boring but necessary).  We had only one hour of true sailing all day. 

At about 18.00, after an uneventful and noisy voyage, we arrived at Bahia Jaltemba, prepared to be enchanted.  We were not.  Jaltemba is a big, open bay with much more development on shore than we were expecting.  The apparent lack of protection from the winds prompted us to tuck in behind Isla la Pena in the company of a smelly fishing boat and (apparently) abandoned panga, surrounded by scummy water. 

We took a vote and decided our stay in Jaltemba would be a one-night event.

Then, as if to apologize for the day of motoring and the less than charming anchorage, the fishing boat departed and the scummy water cleared up immediately.  To say the skies parted and the sun shown is to go a bit far – but it was a noticeable improvement in fortune and our spirits were greatly improved.  Dinner and a beer helped, too. 

Chacala – The Best Place?  (March 10 – 14)

The next morning, we were entertained by signs of life on Isla la Pena.  We watched as they prepared the island restaurant for weekend tourists by dragging out tables and umbrellas, waiving hands, shouting, etc..  Life in Bahia Jaltemba began to appear more promising than it had originally, but not enough for us to rescind our unanimous agreement to press on to Ensenada Chacala.  Chacala is only eight nautical miles from Jaltemba, so we agreed that if it did not pan out we could consider returning for the night. 

We arrived in Chacala after a three hour tour, most of it under sail, ready to enjoy the bay, and this time were not disappointed.  We set a stern anchor as recommended by neighbors and the cruising guide, and surveyed the area.  We were enchanted.

And perhaps one of the nicest features of Chacala is a very sheltered dinghy landing beach, so we didn’t have to frighten Bob with our sophomore dinghy landing skills right off the bat.

The next morning, we were greeted by our neighbor Mike from Dejala.  He told us that he and his mate Marie had arranged for a tour of some nearby petroglyphs the next day, and we agreed to join them.  This trip was one of the highlights of our time in this lovely place. 

Our guide Armando was obviously interested in the petroglyphs, and avoided what for us is the ultimate kiss of tourist-guide-death: pretending to know more than he knew.  He would show a petroglyph, ans say “it could mean this; a local curandero (Mexican Spanish for shaman) that I talked to says it means that; I like the idea that it means [whichever]”.   

               

Most touching of all were the signs that the location is still a spiritual place for many.

Chacala has the palapa (a thatched roof structure without walls) restaurants that one sees all over the Mexican coast.

But in addition, there were two retreat centers at the far end of the beach.  One is a yoga retreat, which we have on our list as a place for a “vacation” from sailing in the future.  The other has a tapas bar that consists of some chairs and tables set in the middle of a clearing where food heated on a grate over a wood fire.  We spent a lovely afternoon there one day, after Molly had done a very sandy swim to shore (beach waves stronger than she) and Bob did a more graceful swim back to the boat.

We extended our stay in Chacala by several days because it was so pleasant, but eventually had to decide to either (a) stay there forever (which when we found the guy that made homemade ice cream became a distinct possibility for el Capitan) or (b) go on to Ensenada de Matanchen.   

Matanchen Redux (March 14 – 17)

We left Chacala with regret at 11.00, but our spirits immediately picked up -- this was the sail we had come to Mexico for!  We made between 4.8 and 6 knots all day with winds on our beam permitting us to fetch our destination (i.e., sail on course).  None of this “do we motor to our destination or sail 45 degrees to one side of it then turn and sail 45 degrees to the other side of it?” stuff for us – we were on the direct bus.  Why were we so fortunate?  Because the sea gods love us, we presume.   

We arrived in Matanchen and set anchor at 15.30.  The bay was full of boats we knew from other marinas or anchorages so we anticipated a fun party.  Not so, as they were all planning on leaving the next morning early, purportedly to catch good weather (was it something we said?).  Left on our own, we relaxed on board and talked about what a great sail we’d just had.  And then we began to slap at the jejenes (in Canadian, “no seeums”) and took refuge below.    

The next day we travelled into town after running the banana bread gauntlet (Matanchen and San Blas are famous for their banana bread and there are dozens of little stands between the boat and the taxi stand).  We bought a few pieces on that trip.  San Blas had not inspired us the last time we were there, and this time it also appeared tattered and dusty.  But, as during our previous visit, our check-in with the port captain was efficient and we had a good lunch.  This visit we also took time to tour the local tourist spots – an 18^th century Spanish fort and accounting house on a hill top overlooking the ocean,

and the ruins of an 18^th/19^thcentury cathedral (the inspiration for, as every tells you, Longfellow’s The Bells of San Blas). 

The excitement at the fort was the assault on the place by a group of recently graduated nurses on a trip to celebrate their accomplishment.  They were charming in their enthusiasm and startlingly young (or perhaps we are startlingly old?). 

On our way back to the boat we succumbed to the banana bread gauntlet and bought a loaf from one of the many little panaderias (bread stores) along the highway.  After devouring the banana bread for breakfast the next day we performed the other requisite act of tourism required of visitors to Matanchen – a “La Tovara Jungle Tour”.  Bryce and I had dismissed the trip during our last visit thinking that we had “been there done that” a couple of times before in various places in Mexico.  But since then we had heard several times that this was a worthwhile trip, so we gave it a try.  So the intrepid threesome: Bryce, Molly and "Jungle Bob" . . .

went into the estuary of La Tovara with our guide, Jesus . . .

who, despite having a fairly alarming cough, perservered in pointing out the local wildlife . . .

and was a master at getting us In close to our photo subjects.

And who should come roaring up behind us but the graduate nurses we had met the day before in San Blas?

We got a good laugh out of the fact that we had spent the day sedately putting along the estuary taking pictures of birds, and these kids were screaming like they were on a Disneyland Ride.  Yes – life is better with every year.

The mid-point of the "jungle tour" was a stop at a swimming hole, carefully screened off from the local cocodrilo (crocodile) population.  We took a refreshing dip

and chatted with some sailors from Canada.  We have begun to wonder if anyone is at home in Canada during the winter? 

After returning from our tour, on the walk along banana-bread row, we bought so much food (banana muffins, sweet cornbread, empanadas, etc.) at the little panaderia we had visited the day before that Bryce felt compelled to try and explain that we were not gluttons, but were provisioning for the next couple days’ sailing trip.  The little lady in charge of the shop was much more interested in showing us her calculations, because of the huge price she was asking (something like $8 . . . ). 

St. Paddy’s Day Sail (March 17 – 18)

We left Matanchen on St. Paddy’s Day with very un-holiday like efficiency.  Anchor up at 06.35.  Ugh.  No winds, so we motored northward until the winds picked up and we were able to sail around 12.30.

El Capitan celebrated St. Paddy’s Day with the Wearin’ o the Green and the drinkin’ o a beer (with the squeezin' o the lime). 

The crew, too frightened of the tyrant captain to be caught sleeping on watch, were abstemious. 

The sea gods were with us for most of the day, and we sailed until 18.00 when the winds dropped.   Night watch with three people on two-hour watches was much nicer than with two people and three-hour watches, so we enjoyed the evening, though most of it was spent motoring.  We had a lot of company – several sailboats were heading into Mazatlan – so there was a lot to watch and a lot of radio chatter to keep us awake.  We arrived a bit too early for the marina to assign us a slip, but finally tied up around 09.15 with a gorgeous view of the channel dredging equipment and a chilly wind coming right into our cabin.  Welcome to sunny Mexico.  Bryce exerted his Canadian charm and got us a nicer berth a few days later! 

We’ll post about our time in Mazatlan soon! 

FAQs - March 23

Based on some reader feedback (what – you didn’t get our “are we meeting your needs” survey form?!) this blog has raised some questions for some of our readers.  So – here are our responses to some Travels on Abracadabra Frequently Asked Questions (warning - no pictures, very wordy): 

1.       Is Molly the author of the blog?
The blog is authored by Team Arnold/Andrews.  Molly does the first draft of each post.  Bryce then reads it for technical accuracy and tone (she can get a little snarky or whiney at times – as some of you may know) and tries to spot all grammar mistakes and typos.  Bryce also chooses most of the pictures for each post.  After Bryce’s pass, Molly then polishes, adds the pictures and clicks “post”.  However, because Molly’s voice is the one that most people “hear” in the blog, we thought this time we’d each separately respond to the FAQs.

2.       So – are you having a good time -- really?  Do you enjoy retirement?

Molly responds:  Overall, yes, to both questions. 

Keep in mind that we are not truly “on vacation” – this is our life.  I still have to clean the toilet and scrub the slime off the bottom of the dinghy (Bryce actually does the truly icky jobs).  And we’re living this life in something smaller than those luxury campers you hate when passing them on the highway.  This means we often have limitations on water usage and have to actually schedule comings and goings around limitations on sewage storage capacity (no we don’t just . . . in bays).  In short: This ain’t no Four Seasons Resort, sisters. 

That said, the plus side of the ledger is longer:    

I don’t have to write memos or go to meetings or perform any of the lawyer-like activities I spent the previous thirty years doing;

the weather is usually great here;
I’m enjoying the company of other cruisers and our friends that have visited;
I love the food, culture and people of Mexico;
I’ve read twenty books since we left California (not all of them worth remembering, of course); and
I get to spend a lot of time with my boyfriend Bryce who is an excellent captain and, for the most part a really good sport, despite the pressures of dealing with a first mate that is . . . on that rare occasion. . . downright insubordinate. 

So – to borrow the words of a great woman, Ana Matosantos: “It’s all good.”

Bryce responds:  A huge yes.

What can I say? Life is good.  This year has taken me back to my roots – the nomadic existence of an aircrew type; my fascination with the developing world; and no fixed address  – oh, I already mentioned that one. 

I, too, am enjoying making new friends in the cruising community.  And fine tuning my sailing knowledge and skills is very fulfilling for me, too. My biggest thrill, however, has been the opportunity to be full time with Molly – and not kill each other – and to do something exciting together.

3.       What do you do every day?

Molly responds:  Drink margaritas.  No, not really.  In the words of our most recent visiting crew member, Bob Romano:  “Gee, it takes a really long time to get stuff done.”   So, while we spend time sitting at restaurants on the beach sipping cerveza on many occasions – and I have read 20 books so far – we spend a lot of time just living.  To give you some idea of how we spend our time, a typical day at anchor is something like this:

7-8 ish:  Get up and put the kettle on to boil water for coffee.  Dig out some clothes, check for the ick factor and if not too icky, put them on.  I wrestle the bed back into place while Bryce mops the top of the boat with the dew that’s accumulated (if you leave it there it becomes a dust-catching dampness that will result in a muddy mess on deck).  Squeeze oranges for juice; slice fruit for cereal; set up the table in the cockpit (with non-skid material so coffee doesn’t go sliding if there’s a wave); make coffee; take cereal, milk, etc. up the stairs to the cockpit and mop up whatever spills between galley and cockpit.

8 – 10 ish:  Breakfast, and, if there’s internet connection, read the New York Times, or parts thereof.  We look to see what boats have arrived or left since we last checked.  We talk about what’s happening on shore.  After breakfast we boil water and then wash dishes, dry them and store them away.

10 ish:  It’s time for a project, such as paying bills/checking accounts/doing accounting if we can get internet connection; fixing an oil drip; cleaning something; rinsing out some sandy clothes; etc..  Or we get the dinghy ready and go ashore for an act of tourism or shopping.  This involves unlocking and lowering the dinghy and its motor, and storing the necessary things into a dry bag.  All of this takes about 20 - 30 minutes.  Then we motor at a very slow pace about a mile or half-mile to shore and try to stay dry while landing.  Getting “to town” involves finding and negotiating with a taxi, waiting for a bus, or a walk up the beach road to the nearest store. 

1 – 4 ish:  By now it’s time for lunch.  Post lunch we do our errand or act of tourism, and return to the dinghy.  Departing by dinghy is more of a challenge than arriving by dinghy, so that takes more time.  Both dinghy landings/departures and shopping deserve their own blog posts, but in short: shopping is complicated in a foreign language (is it really oatmeal, or is it oat bran?) and when everything is sold in metric (I have never quite incorporated metric measurements into my consciousness).  Do we really shop every day?  Not every day, but consider living with a refrigerator one-third of the size of yours at home, without a freezer.  Yes, we shop often.      

4 ish:  After arriving at the boat and returning dinghy and motor to the upright and locked position (a longer, more difficult and sweatier process than taking them down), we do more projects such as cleaning the sides of the boat or stowing food products away.  We often also have a sort-of shower to get the salt water off of us.  Then we pin the towels to the side of the boat. 

5 ish:  Now it’s time for a drink (cerveza or ron tonic are standards) to celebrate surviving another day – and to see who has come in or out of the anchorage.  Sometimes we share this time with others in the anchorage. 

6 ish:  After our sundowner, we start preparing dinner.  That’s often an hour-long project given the challenges of the galley.  Dinner usually arrives about 7 or 8.

9 ish:  After washing and drying dishes and reading a bit it’s time to go to bed.  Life is simple.  Life is good.

Bryce responds:

You see a lot of cruisers with scraggly beards and pony tails.  While that may save a lot of time I prefer to shave and find a barber.  And that takes time! 

The days just fly by.  I don’t get up all that early but on the other hand, I’ve likely been awake 5 times over the night due to boat noises, waves, loud boat boys on neighboring sports fishermen, etc.

Food prep and eating, as Molly said, are huge time expenditures for the cruising family.  Fortunately for me, Molly gets great pleasure out of cooking or I would be reduced to a much more basic existence!      

Fixing and/or breaking boat stuff takes at least 20 hours a week.  And that is to just keep up with the Evil Forces of Corrosion.  Mentioning that you have a boat problem to another yachtista (that’s what Mexican locals call us) takes another 20 hours since everyone is dying to impart their hard earned advice to you.  (And we know what free advice is worth!).

My Spanish comprehension has come roaring back.  As long as I pay attention I can understand everything.  My spoken Spanish still needs work (I think it’s the age factor [yikes]); but I’m reading again – mainly just juvenile books and newspapers – in Spanish to try to slip back into the groove.

Night seems to come so early.  Dinner, a look at the stars, and then – as a new cruiser friend says – it’s “Mexican Midnight” (9 PM) and time to go to bed.

4.       Where to next – are you going to sail around the world?

Molly responds:  When we left California in October, we agreed to check in with each other in six months to see whether we were both enjoying the trip and then decide whether or not to keep travelling.  However, a couple months ago, both of us simply started talking about where we would sail next season . . . so we have never even had “the talk”, we just started planning to sail in Mexico next fall/winter/spring, probably first in the Sea of Cortez and then south through the territory we have already explored and then beyond.  We talk about year three possibly including Central America – but at this point that’s just talk.  And that’s as far as the sailing “plans” have gone.  We are not yet ready to even talk about “sailing around the world”.  It’s a big world, and so far the longest consecutive period we’ve been underway is three nights.  So – we’ll just keep it to the next couple years, shall we?  The interesting question for me is what to do during the summer months – this year and following.  At this point our only plans are to visit everyone we know with a nice guest room – we may even downgrade to visiting those with a sleeper sofa if the money runs low.  But being guests may not be a viable multiple year plan.  We’re probably not that charming.  So – we’ll think about that some more.

Bryce responds: Sailing around the world would be a monumental task.  I’m not sure this boat is up to it.  But it is definitely up to a few weeks at sea here and there.  We talk about various alternate routes and destinations but it’s just talk at this point.  Next season will tell us a lot – we’ll either move on after that or get hooked into a ‘floating condo in Mexico’ like some of our new friends. Or go home – when you come from a nice place complete with great friends it wouldn’t be a heart breaker to just go home.

5.       How’s the engine . . . the bow sprit . . . and other boat parts?

Molly responds:  We have now run the engine over 100 hours without incident.  So – knock wood – we think the fuel starvation issue we were having during the HaHa is resolved.  Bryce replaced a part on the bow sprit – but after only one day sailing with the fix, it was clear the sprit was bending.  So – he and our friend Bob Romano have installed a more robust fix.  After we get a chance to sail downwind for a while, we’ll report in on the success or lack thereof of that fix.  More technical details are available from Bryce upon request.  As for other boat parts – we’re filling in the blanks every day (again, technical details available from Bryce) and I am becoming more and more comfortable with Abracadabra as my home and as the safety net that stands between me and a lot of water.    

Bryce responds:  Can I bring you anything?, the arriving guest asks.  What is the baggage limit on Delta, I wonder.  Most of the unfinished projects and parts that we left California with are now done:  for example, we have a new tricolor/anchor/strobe LED light on the masthead (wow, eh?).  The water maker works dependably although the separate drinking water tank still isn’t connected – we’re still storing into jugs. 

But there are always projects.   Some leaky windows need to be taken care of before we store the boat.  Right now I’m supposed to be fixing a floorboard that threatens to crack. The list goes on into perpetuity. 

On a positive note very few of our spare parts inventory have been put into use.  The engine purrs on.  And the sails are still in good shape.  We bought some new lines and had a modification done to the top of the mast to fly the spinnaker better.  The dinghy has new ‘chaps’ (a canvas cover to protect the rubberized fabric from the sun). Our instruments provide the greatest source of amusement – just because one was accurate last week doesn’t mean it will be so today!

Getting work done in Mexico has turned out to be both more professional and less expensive than we were originally warned.  Let’s say about 60% of US labor costs.  Parts, if imported, can take a long time and/or be very expensive.

6.       How do you determine your route?

Molly responds:   It’s sort of like planning a driving trip.  We read up on what we’d like to see and where we’d like to stay, and choose a route based on that.  The differences between our planning and planning a car trip are:

We have limited control over how fast we can go:  Abracadabra travels at a speed determined by the wind or in a worst case scenario our engine and the wind.  Maximum speed for us is about 6 knots per hour (somewhere near 7 MPH or 11 KPH) if the wind is good or about 5.5 KPH if there is no wind and motoring is easy. 

We can’t just stop at the next hotel and call it a day if we’re tired:  We can’t stay anywhere other than one of the few marinas along the Mexican coast, or at an anchorage that is deep enough for Abracadabra’s draft, shallow enough for Abracadabra to anchor and is sheltered from the wind (at least as we know the wind to be when we anchor, and which we hope won’t change while we’re there).   Arriving at a new marina or anchorage after dark is a risk creator, so we also work to avoid that.  Ever been tired and lost trying to find a cabin you’ve rented that is somewhere off the side of a dark mountain road?  Put that in a three dimensional environment (the current is pushing us which direction?), add potential traffic from all points, and lights that may be navigation markers . . . or someone’s car on shore . . . and you have some idea of the complicating factors.      

Bryce responds:  There are several cruising guides and between those and reports from other cruisers one sort of comes up with a route.  It is hard to find a stretch of this coast without some interesting anchorage every 30 or 40 miles but we have done legs of 130 or more miles as well – and they require an overnight or two.  Those legs require more work and planning. 

The general flow seems to be Baja California coastal area, then over to Mazatlan, then down the coast to as far as Manzanillo or even Zihuatanejo before heading north again into the Sea of Cortez.  Others, of course, keep going south to El Salvador or even west to the Marquesas. 

To set our departure time we use a weather forecasting service called Buoyweather.com.  One can also listen in on several morning weather chat networks.  We get a forecast that is favorable (winds conducive to sailing rather than motoring, waves and swells not too huge) and off we go.  Heading ‘downwind’ or with the wind in nicer than ‘upwind’.  The apparent wind feels less strong and therefor warmer.  Waves and swells from behind you feel more rolling and less abrupt.  This style and direction was our experience until last month when we started back north from our furthest southern point in Tenecatita Bay.  Since then there has been more motoring and more waves from in front of us.  And that’s both tiring for the crew and hard on the equipment.

When we’re under way we observe a watch system at night – usually 2 hours on and 2 hours off.  The only way to stop for the night is to find a bay in which to anchor.  We need to be in under- 40 or 50 feet of water in order to anchor and we need shelter from the winds.  So, if we can’t find a bay that meets those criteria, we just keep going.  And going.

Anchoring is the anticlimax to a long passage.  If the crew is still sharp, and the equipment functions well, it is a no brainer to get the hook down.  If the bottom is rocky or weedy and the crew impatient, it can take a couple of attempts.  Being ‘at anchor’ is the best part.  Really.

La Cruz Events -- March 1 to March 9

International Racing and Attendant High Security:  We haven’t really followed the Copa de Mexico racing news, but events related to the Copa made life in La Cruz interesting, so we thought we’d report in on our observations: 

 

First, the J-24s (a type of racing boat – small, but very sleek and pretty) showed up -- 55 of them!  They were lined up along the waterfront, and then dropped, one by one, into the water for transfer to slips from which long-term tenants had been vacated. 

The Copa includes at least five “one design”events (Lasers, Optimists, 420s, J-24s and Windsurfers) in the area. The Js and the Lasers were raced out of the La Cruz marina.

Dock B (“our dock”) became more crowded with boats shifted off the newly established “racing central” dock.  More neighbors and more people to observe = more fun for us.   

Then came the Mexican Navy and Marines.  The Marines were armed with fairly intimidating looking machines -- the Navy guys looked a little friendlier.  See?

Despite some cynical cruisers (Tom Sheldon?!) suggesting that they were there to protect the national treasure that is the Mexican J-24 fleet -- we actually think the point of all the security was that the President was rumored to be planning an appearance in relation to the races.  We never saw him, but we’re sure that if he does show he’ll be well protected.  We know we were.

Then the J-24 crews came – from Germany, France, Sweden, Brazil, Canada, the US and places beyond.  The Mexican Marines fielded several crews – some including female racers!  Some of the J-24s are charter racers, available to crews that can’t or don’t want to transport their own boats to the race site.  It was fun to have the energy of racing crews around the docks and in town. 

Then came the big boats – those that had just finished the San Diego to Puerto Vallarta race.  The big boat crews were almost exclusively male and were significantly beefier and more sunburned than the J-24 crews.  Like most groups that had just been through a tough haul, they ignored everyone but each other.   We didn’t get any good pictures of the big boats – though we admired their expensive sails and sleek hulls. 

Convivia Coffee – On Shore:  Our former dock-mates from Emeryville, the Bradford family of Convivia, had their boat hauled for a final check at the La Cruz Shipyard before they head off to the South Pacific.  While Convivia was up in the air, the four Bradfords lived in a charming little one-bedroom casita on land – which seemed extremely large to all of those of us that live in small sailboats (Convivia is a Cal43)!  One afternoon we joined them for some home-roasted coffee.   The parental Bradfords are the ultimate in foodie self-sufficiency – they roast their own coffee in their bar-b-que grill!  We spent a very nice afternoon enjoying coffee, conversation, and space. 

With Convivia back in the water the Bradford family will be heading off soon.  Follow them at: http://forgeover.com/

Company / Crew / Wine Arrives:  Our friend Bob Romano arrived on the 5^th to crew with us on the portion of our northward journey from PV to Mazatlan.  And like all truly good visiting crew he came bearing California wine.  After months of drinking Chilean, Argentinian and Mexican wine (which is fine – but not Napa or Sierra Foothills!) it was wonderful to join him in a real, honest-to-goodness California Pinot Noir!  Oh yeah – and we were glad to see Bob, too.  J 

Our first outing with Bob was to PV to perform acts of tourism – the requisite trip along the PV Malecon . . . see pictures of Malacon posted previously . . . and dinner out in PV.  Once again guided by our new friend Tom Salmon, who joined us (thanks for the introduction Frank and Irene!) we dined at Coco’s Kitchen.  If you are in PV, put it on your agenda – it might be even a lovelier place to have breakfast, as it is in a spacious, calming courtyard that calls out for relaxing with morning coffee and conversation.  From there Tom introduced us to a fabulous chocolate store that makes the best chili-flavored dark chocolate truffles in the world.  And we say that knowing we haven’t yet had all the chili-flavored dark chocolate truffles in the world . . . we’re that sure.  Unfortunately we ate them all and lost the bag that they came in, so we’ll have to check in with Tom about how to find this place again when we return next year (more on that soon).  So – good company, good food, and dark chocolate – Molly’s idea of the perfect evening. 

More on our trip northward with Bob in the next blog.  Join us as we consume California wine in a variety of beautiful bays!

Life in Gringolandia – February 21 – 29

Paradise Village Marina is in the heart of Paradise Village (see: http://www.paradisevillage.com), which includes an all-inclusive resort, a hotel, condominiums, pools, tennis courts, a golf course, restaurants, a Bengal tiger breeding program (no kidding - see:  http://www.paradisevillage.com/wildlife-reserve-zoo.html), fractional ownership units and Paradise Village Plaza, an air conditioned shopping mall.  It would be at home in the Inland Empire of Southern California (except perhaps the tigers).  In Mexico, even if one doesn't consider the tigers, it’s just plain weird. 

While visiting a nearby chandelry we were asked by a gringo eployee how we liked the marina.  When we hesitated . . . and finally said it was a little bit odd she said:  "Yes, we call it Gringolandia."  Perfect. 

However, as we admitted to the woman in the chandelry, it’s oddly comforting to stay at a really clean resort filled with Canadians and Republicans after three days bashing about in the ocean dodging “fishing boats” and going without sleep. 

After we arrived “in Paradise” on the 21^st, we cleaned ourselves and Abracadabra, dressed like tourists (or at least sailors in clean clothes) and met Irene and Frank for dinner.  The next three days with them were spent committing acts of tourism in Puerto Vallarta:



including posing with statues along the Malecon.  This statue is called The Gossip Bench, but we decide that in honor of Fank and Irene's honeymoon we'd call it the Listen to Each Other, The Marriage Therapist Said bench:

  

We also joined Tom Salmon, an acquaintace of Frank and Irene's that lives in PV, for dinner at a restaurant that was really wonderful - despite having the unfortunately touristy name of No Way Jose.  Tom tells us it's quite popular with locals, and after our meal, we understand why. 

On Thursday we went on a day sail on Abracadabra in Banderas Bay:

                               

and spotted several whales (which Frank captured with his fancy-schmancy camera!):

Frank and Irene left on the 24th -- and we were left to honeymoon without them! 

One day we ventured out of Paradise to a fancy shopping mall in Puerto Vallarta.  The mall is anchored by a department store named "Liverpool".  Something seems lost in translation when the name of a working class town is used for a fancy store.  It’s as though someone renamed Macy’s “Buffalo”.

Again, it was oddly pleasant to visit an air conditioned shopping mall and drink a latte at a Starbucks after several months in “real” Mexico.  We visited the Telcel center in the mall and signed up for a new in-country telephone and a 3-G computer connection, so hopefully we will have better intenet access going forward.  And, to treat ourselves (even more than the latte and 3-G - how is that possible?) we saw The Girl With The Dragon Tatoo - the American version -- at a real movie theater, in English!  It was really nice to watch a movie on a screen larger than our computer screen.

The rest of our time in Gringolandia (perfect!) was spent hanging around the various swimming pools at Paradise Village trying to even up our sailor tans.  We never got over thinking how odd the place was – but we actually enjoyed it for the week!  

On the 29^th we departed Paradise Village Marina and headed “home” to La Cruz de Huanacaxtle to find that the marina here is in full swing preparing for a series of sail boat races that begin this weekend -- The Copa Mexico (see: http://www.regatacopamexico.com/), including MexORC (see: http://www.mexorc.com/).  There are Lasers and C420s zipping around the harbor and the Bay, and rows of J-24s on trailers.  Last night Tacos en la Calle (one of our favorite taco places) was packed with tables of sailors in town to race or to watch and various support crew members.  Our return to sleepy little La Cruz may not be quite what we had planned!  

We expect to be leaving La Cruz to go north before most of the racing starts on the 9th, but we're enjoying watching the trials for the C420s, and dodging event personnel as they rush around getting ready.  It's hard to imagine all of the potholes in La Cruz can be filled by the time the important people arrive, but there are crews working day and night in an attempt to do just that.  And we're hoping that we can get out of town before breaking an ankle while they're tearing everything up!

  

Bahia Tenacatita to Gringolandia – February 18 – 21

Our friends (and former crew members) Frank Chan and Irene deBruijn Chan married during a wonderful four-day wedding celebration extravaganza last September, but for a number of reasons delayed their honeymoon.  When they told us they were going to visit a resort in Nuevo Vallarta in February for their belated honeymoon, we were thrilled.  Of course, we realized they would want to spend part of their honeymoon with us -- really, who wouldn’t?  So, on Saturday the 18^th, we departed Bahia Tenacatita for the three day, 124-mile trip north to Banderas Bay in order to join them. 

Tenacatita to Chamela

The first day we travelled 26 miles from Bahia Tenacatita to Bahia Chamela.  Our trip began with Bryce raising the anchor at 09.30.  As some of you may remember, we have a manual windlass, so the process of raising our anchor is quite an exercise in exercise.  It involves pulling 110 feet of anchor chain with a 33 pound anchor attached from 30-ish feet below the boat.  No weight loss program required for Bryce unless we pay for an electric windlass! 

This day was a bit of a slog.  First we motored because there was no wind, and once the winds came up around 11.00 we motored because we were heading into the wind and 6-foot swell.  That said, motoring does have its advantages.  For example, it gave us time to play with our camera and realize, after having owned it for several years, that it has a video feature!  Of course now that we have video on our camera, we don't have the bandwidth to download it to this blog.  One step at a time . . .  

We sailed a bit mid-day when the swells dropped to a manageable size.  Sea life sightings included (a) an “elevator whale” sighting: a whale raised up and then down again about 40 feet off our starboard side, and (b) a sea turtle that gave Bryce an extremely annoyed look as we passed (though perhaps sea turtles always look a bit annoyed - ?).  And the trip was not without its cultural highlights – we passed the Copa del Sol, a huge sculpture at the end of Punta Farallon – a point north of Bahia Tenacatita.  We have no idea who decided to build this huge thing at the end of this point – or why -- but it’s really amazing to see from the ocean.

Copa del Sol

We anchored in Bahia Chamela around 16.00, cleaned up a bit, threw together something for dinner and went to sleep. 

Chamela to Cabo Corrientes

The next morning, we lazed around, delaying our departure in order to time our rounding of Cabo Corrientes in the early morning when, theoretically, the winds would be lowest.  Calculating how long it should take to sail/motor a long distance such as the approximately 50 miles from the anchorage at Bahia Chamela to Cabo Corrientes is still an inexact science for us.  It involves trying to figure out where the winds and ocean swell are likely to come from and how strong they are likely to be (they are not the same and are frequently not coordinated), how far from shore we will have to tack to sail – if we sail – given those winds and ocean swell, and what sort of current boost, if any, we may get, depending on which direction we sail/motor.  And, of course there are always “unforeseen circumstances” – which we encountered on this trip (more to come).  When we left Bahia Chamela we slogged north-westward toward Corrientes into northwest winds and 7-foot swells. 

Dolphin Extravaganza

It wasn’t much fun until nature decided to give us the most spectacular dolphin show we have seen to date.  For an hour – from 16.05 to 17.05 -- we were passed by hundreds of dolphins.  At times we were surrounded by 50 or more dolphins leaping and diving, racing toward some goal we couldn’t identify at speeds that made our 5-knot speed look puny.  Just as we would think the show was slowing, one of us would point out another group of the beautiful creatures coming up behind.  There were big, mottled adults swimming gracefully, and small, shiny young dolphins throwing their entire bodies into the air.  Groups of up to seven dolphins leapt in synchronized aerial display.  And of course pictures of this fabulous event – which took place during an overcast part of the day – look a lot like grey specks on a grey ocean.  A few of the shots we took give you a very tiny idea of what we saw: 

Who Are Those Guys?

The next bit of excitement didn’t take place until we were rounding Cabo Corrientes at about 01.00 – in the pitch dark, to state the obvious.  To our port side, a very brightly lit boat, towing a very brightly lit object about 100 feet behind it, appeared to also be approaching the Cape with the intention of rounding.  Bryce was on watch, and decided to give the boat, which he first took to be a fishing boat towing some sort of net, a wide berth.  He maneuvered Abracadabra away from the shore to the outside of the “fishing boat”.  Abracadabra and the “fishing boat” paralleled each other for about 45 minutes.  When Molly came on watch at nearly 02.00 the “fishing boat” began to flash a search light that reached for miles - the largest search light we have seen on a boat – sweeping over us and at times almost blinding us in the otherwise dark night.  Bryce did not go off watch, as he was concerned about the “fishing boat’s” intentions. 

As we were watching the “fishing boat”, we saw another boat rushing up behind us from the dark.  It was relatively small – the size of a cabin cruiser – and very fast.  It had extremely bright navigation lights and a spot light that it was shining on our stern.  Despite being able to see our navigation lights and/or seeing us with its spotlight, it kept coming towards us until it was within a quarter mile of our stern -- way too close for our comfort.  Then it just stayed there, trailing us.  We watched it approach, asking each other:  What the @*^# do you think that is?  Why is it coming up so fast? Where did it come from?  The “fishing boat” locked its spotlight on the second boat’s position, and on Abracadabra.  After the spotlight stayed on both vessels for some time, the boat on our stern abruptly turned around, as though its job (identifying our position?) was done – and just left.  As quickly as the drama began, it ended about two hours later when the “fishing boat” flashed its spotlight on us, turned away from us, dragging whatever the brightly-lit object behind it was, and headed back south.  All of this was in complete radio silence. 

Because all of this was done in the dark, we never saw the boats themselves – only shapes of them.  But after dancing with them for some time, we became convinced they were not searching for fish, and they were working together.  Whether they were engaged in a military or police training or survey exercise or an actual drug interdiction action (unlikely, given the spotlights - ?) we will never know. 

We never truly considered ourselves in danger from these vessels once we realized they could see us and were not going to run into us.  We reasoned that smugglers would not likely use such bright lights or want to steal a slow, older sailboat for their use.  And, if these boats were military or police vessels, a search of Abracadabra would not produce any contraband (well, at one point we had illegally imported salami – but that got eaten some time ago; even the smell of it is long gone).  We even have fishing licenses!  But we were rattled by all of the bright lights and high speed tactics. 

We later talked to the crew of another boat that went around Cabo Corrientes that same night and they experienced the same thing, with the added excitement of a Miami-vice type speedboat that joined into the dance.  So, whatever was going on was larger than Abracadabra’s passage. 

Somewhat rattled after all of these bright lights and the speeding boat on our tail, we pressed on.  Around 05.00 we were passed by a brightly lit cruise ship – a Norwegian American Line ship if you follow cruise lines (Toby).  It was first a bright spot on the horizon, then a looming hotel-on-its-side passing us at 15 knots, then gone, on to Puerto Vallarta to dock before brunch.

Spring Tide

We do not travel as quickly as a cruise ship, so we weren’t within radio hailing distance of our intended destination, Paradise Village Marina, until about 14.00.  And, tired and a bit rattled, we were told that due to a spring tide (essentially the lowest of low tides), there wasn’t enough clearance for us to enter the marina!  We turned toward our former “home” at La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, about six miles west.  The marina there gave us a spot for the night.  We tied up to Dock 4 (our prior home in La Cruz), showered, drank a beer, went out for dinner . . . and slept soundly.

To Gringolandia!

The next day we left La Cruz after yoga and sailed to Nuevo Vallarta, arriving at Paradise Village in the afternoon – stepping off our boat into what a wit at a Nuevo Vallarta chandelry called: Gringolandia.