San Blas to La Cruz - November 15 - 19, 2013

San Blas -- November 15 to 18


We've visited San Blas on two previous occasions as day-trippers from Matanchen Bay (see our November 14, 2011 or March 26, 2012 posts for information on local tourist activities).  During this trip we spent three nights at the little local marina waiting out some weather, which gave us the opportunity to spend some less-touristy moments in this sleepy little town. 

The town of San Blas is a fishing and beach tourism town, with heavy emphasis on the fishing. 



The Fleet

And More Fleet. . .



And The Smaller Businessman

Even the tourists fish: 

Celebrating Revolution Day

We ate out a couple of times while we were there, and recommend breakfast at the municipal market over dinner at the venerable tourist restaurant "McDonald's".  Breakfast can include a liquado or some fresh-squeezed juice and the world's largest piece of banana bread for about $3.  Dinner at McDonald's is okay, but just that.  In general, we confirmed our recollection that San Blas is not a gourmand's paradise. 

Our previous visits had also left us with the impression of a town that is hot, dusty, and not very tidy.  This trip we confirmed that after a rain it is hot, muddy and not very tidy.  And while San Blas deserves its reputation as a place where jejenes (no-seeums) can be found, our experience was less buggy than that reputation would lead one to expect.  Maybe we're just more liberal in our application of deadly bug repellant than others???

Lush Vegetation Can = Jejenes (No-Seeums) at Sunset

While San Blas may never thrive as an international tourist destination, as a weather watching port it was a great place to hang out.  The municipal market carries everything one needs for provisioning (including some yummy little pork chops to grill . . . ).  Though we were reminded that shopping in the Mazatlan mega-market had made us lackadaisical about exercising "provisioning best practices" when we found that a box of juice purchased at the San Blas market had expired several months before. 

During our three nights at the Fonatur marina (Fonatur is one of the entities that operate the government owned marinas and boat yards in Mexico) we had sailboat company only one night - other storm watchers that departed early on the day the rains came.  We hope they enjoyed their trip.  

A Sleepy Day At The Marina

Local Wildlife, Hanging Out On the Dock Lines
of A Neighboring Sport Fishing Boat

Our Telcel Internet connection was fast and on the day of rain we sat in the cabin with the fans whirring and caught up on some boat-bit Internet orders for our upcoming Thanksgiving visit to California.

The weather passed and the storm didn't develop - so . . .


Happy Anniversary To Us! -- November 18, 2013

On the morning of the 24th Anniversary of The Happiest Day of Our Lives (as Molly reminds Bryce from time to time . . .) we woke to beautiful weather and a prediction of good sailing conditions.  We decided that Twenty-Four was The Canvas Anniversary, and that we'd make the most of it by sailing to La Cruz de Huanacaxtle.  

The Lucky Groom

La Cruz is too far from San Blas for a day sail during the short-light winter months so we decided to motor to near-by Matanchen Bay, anchor for the afternoon and sail to La Cruz over night, arriving mid-morning.  Not a bad plan - but we didn't stick with it. 

As we left San Blas the weather was so perfect and the winds so nice, light and from our stern, that we decided to just keep sailing and not stop at Matanchen.  Abracadabra sails so well using only our smallest (80%) jib -- why do we lug around that huge 140%-er anyway?  Within an hour the wind rose enough that had we been using the larger sail, we would have been furling it to a smaller size.  Our little jib proved to be perfect for the job at hand.  

We sailed the whole 62 miles to La Cruz.

Our anniversary toast was with Diet Coke and Coke Zero, and our anniversary dinner was a lentil and sausage salad.  We were accompanied by a 92% moon (according to our navigation system) which looked full to us.  Sometimes it was rolley.  Sometimes it wasn't.  We had 25 knot winds, and we had 4 knot winds.  All in all it was a great sail.   


La Cruz --  November 19

We set anchor in the La Cruz anchorage at 03.15 in the light of the almost-full moon.  There was very little breeze, so we were able to sleep the deep and dreamless until about 07.30 (08.30 in La Cruz as we had crossed into another time-zone).  By mid-afternoon we had entered the marina, fueled the boat and were tied up to the dock; shaded, napped, lunched and showered -- and signed on for Year Twenty-Five.


  

  

Holy Crow, What A Way To Start The Season -- November 12 - 15, 2013

Caveat:  This post contains no pictures, so if what you like are the pictures feel free to go on about your day and check our next post!


Predictions and Expectations:  Like good (read: cautious) little sailors, before we decided to depart the comfort of Muelle 4-46 in Marina Mazatlan, we checked four web-weather-wind prediction sources.  That's FOUR -- two paid services and two free services.  The highest wind predicted was 20 knots (Predict Wind).  The general consensus was that we would have to motor more often than we like.  We can't even remember the highest swell prediction because it didn't register as anything to be concerned about.  A "no sweat" trip -- perfect for sailors and a boat that have been tied to a dock for more than five months.  A great way to put our toes in the water, so to speak.

But of course, they're called weather PREDICTIONS.  And after this trip - we're considering hiring a psychic for the rest of this season. 


Mazatlan to San Blas -- 131 nautical miles -- November 12 - 13

Merrily We Motor Along:  We departed around 0900, motoring out of the marina estuary and past Mazatlan's marine traffic in (as anticipated) a northerly breeze that wouldn't support a sail.  The swells were a bit uncomfortable, and we were sad to be motoring -- but we were looking forward to some sailing in the afternoon.  Abracadabra's motor was purring happily.

Sailing:  Mid-afternoon the breeze filled in just in time to prevent Molly from screaming "I can't stand this motor any longer!" and we were able to put up the spinnaker.  For an hour we sailed happily along, watching our lovely blue and white spinnaker pull us toward our destination.  Watching a spinnaker is sort of magical, and somehow connects one to the first human to figure out that if she just put up a piece of cloth the wind could do most of the work.  It's truly wonderful.  We congratulated ourselves on the perfect start to Sailing Season Three.

Alas, about an hour later, the breeze rose to over 15 knots -- the highest wind we like to subject our light spinnaker to.  So, we furled it and continued on with our small jib - watching the winds climb to 20 knots, just in time to make dinner a gymnastic event.  Clouds were forming over the land, and from time-to-time the clouds would glow with lightening.  We put our hand-held GPS/radio in the oven in anticipation that the lightening might move off shore, and sailed on into the night.

Around 2000 the wind and swell dropped to 12-knots-ish.  There was a rain shower around 0100.  And we had lots of company.  We dodged shrimp boats and several smaller fishing boats.  At one point near dawn, on Molly's watch, Abracadabra was completely surrounded by the lights of shrimp boats and fishing pangas.  What could have looked to the fanciful like a "ring of faerie fyre" felt more like the encircling of malevolent aliens . . . all waiting to bump into or be bumped into by Abracadabra.  But the lights proved to be those of friendly aliens and with the dawn they had disappeared to deliver their catches to market in Mazatlan. 

As dawn lightened, the night's north breeze that had been a delightful boost to our trip south became a blast from the east.  We sped through the morning's oatmeal breakfast and around 0900 began to see sustained winds into the high 20's.  By noon the winds had climbed into the mid-30's and the swells to over two meters (for those in the U.S., that's six feet . . .).  A big day on San Francisco Bay. 

Our original destination - San Blas - is a port inside an estuary with a bar entrance.  This entrance can become dangerous in high swells, so we decided to go a couple of miles further and anchor in Ensenada de Matanchen (Matanchen Bay).  

Carnival Ride:  Entering Matanchen Bay required us to go directly into the then-30 knot winds, and we knew we would never make it before the early winter dark without motoring.  The winds remained (too) strong and for about an hour we were seeing winds over 35 knots on our nose.  One gust read 40.  The swells were at a sustained two and a half meters (seven and a half feet) and some were three (nine feet).  A really uncomfortable motoring experience and quite intimidating for those of us that hadn't sailed in several months. 

And then -- because it's always when things seem bad that they get worse -- the bimini (back shade that - most importantly - supports the solar panels) began to come apart and wobble wildly.  So there we were (as all good adventure stories say . . . ) bashing around in 35+ winds, lashing our bimini back together.  

Heading For Cover:   We bashed into Matanchen Bay around 16.30, prepared to have to anchor at 35 knots and spend the night on anchor watch.  Fortunately we found that in the bay the winds were about 20.  We anchored easily as the winds continued to drop . . . and after a shower and a make-shift dinner of cheese and crackers washed down with a rum-and-tonic, we fell asleep on our sea berth.  El Capitan was up and down several times during the night, but each time he peeked out, the water was flat and Abracadabra was swinging gently in about four knots of breeze. 


R&R -- November 14:  Matanchen Bay is a very pretty place and there are lots of things to do there -- see our posts from December 24, 2011 or March 26, 2012 if you would like to see pictures of the Bay and read more about the vacation options there.

But, well, we were tired so we spent the next day doing non-touristy things.  Bryce bolted the bimini back together and assembled a kit of screws and bolts for things on the deck that may come flying apart in the future.  Molly cooked a few items for the next leg of our trip.  We both enjoyed our new sun/rain shade (more on that and other nifty things we did in Mazatlan in another post) and read (read: napped).  We grilled steak and vegetables for dinner and - since the wind hadn't come back up - treated ourselves to a nice split of Chilean red wine.  Other than the jejenes (in Canadian that's "no-see-ums") that Matanchen is famous for, our stay was perfect.


Any Port When They Predict A . . .  -- November 15:  We woke this morning with plans to head south to one of our favorite bays - Chacala.  But as we were taking down shades and stowing things away below, we heard a radio weather forecast by he local Capitania de Puerto predicting 20-knot afternoon winds and 2.1 meter (7 foot) swells due to a tropical depression that is forming to the south and reporting a 30% chance of that depression becoming a cyclone. 

So, being (as we said in the beginning) cautious little sailors, we motored north a few miles and entered the San Blas estuary (now free of swell and quite safe).  Abracadabra is now tied up to a marina dock, and we are rapidly running through our pre-paid allotment of Telcel internet connectivity checking all the weather sites we can find.  But if you know of a good weather psychic, we'd appreciate you sending along his or her number!   


And because it's what we do when we have time -- we think we'll go out for dinner. 

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! 

La Cruz de Huanacaxtle

La Cruz For The Holidays:  We arrived at Marina Riviera Nayarit at the village of La Cruz de Huanacaxtle (sounds sort of likie: Juanacasteley) yesterday, the 23rd, after several sailing days and four days anchored in Ensenada de Matanchén.  We will add those places to our map as soon as we quit stealing our friend (we refer to her as our off-sight technical support) Tara Dunn's map and actually create one of our own!  We think we've figured out how to do that. . ..

It looks like this is a good place to be for the Winter Solstice Holidays (aka Christmas/ Hanukah/Kwanza/etc.).  All of the local restaurants are offering holiday meals and we are on a dock with a lot of "kid boats" (a boat that is home to a family with children).  It's been fun to watch the kids race up and down the dock on scooters (the kind one pumps with one foot -- "razors" we think they're called now) and play hide-n-seek (that still appears to be the same game we remember!) and generally being kids. 

Mazatlán to Ensenada de Matanchén:  Our trip down, despite one significant moment of drama (that's called foreshadowing, in the literary trade), was very nice, even though we started it a little later than planned to let Molly get over a cold, and took a little longer than planned because she gave it to Bryce, and we slept in a few days to help him recuperate.  If one has to have a cold while sailing, Matanchén Bay is a great place to recuperate -- it's quiet, and there's not much else to do but watch the fish swarm around the boat (we think in an attempt to hide in the shade to avoid Pelicans) and putter around in a dingy from one beachside palapa-style restaurant to another. 

Our sail from Mazatlán was pleasant on the whole - though, as foreshadowed, it had one unfortunate moment of drama.  We left around 8:45 in the morning on the 18th, and because the conditions were splendid we flew the spinnaker.  At about 10:30-ish, about 10 miles off shore, we were approached by a panga (the little fishing motorboats), with two guys trying to warn us off a fishing net.  They assumed we couldn't speak Spanish and began simply herding Abracadabra like a wayward calf with their panga -- pushing us way closer to the wind than one should sail using an asymmetrical spinnaker.  All in the interest of keeping us from doing very awful things to Abracadabra's propeller or rudder or other underside bit, mind you -- not malicious at all.  But unfortunate.

We realized we needed to take the spinnaker down, but by that time we realized the end of the net wasn't coming any time soon, the load on the sail was too great to furl it.  So, we sailed on, hoping we would soon be able to turn down soon.  Not soon enough.  With a stomach-churningly horrible metal graunching noise, Bryce's one-design bowsprit snapped in half.  The spinnaker remain attached well enough to keep it out of the water until we cleared the end of the net (the whole net must have been more than a mile long!) and Bryce went forward and hauled it in.  The sad thing is that we are now without a bowsprit and can't fly the asymmetrical until that is remedied.  Bryce is putting his engineer's hat on and trying to figure out what to do to remedy the design flaw that allowed it to snap.  Using some extremely strong but extremely expensive metal for the bowsprit would do the trick -- but perhaps also do a trick on our cruising kitty.  And we're not sure that such materials would be available here.  So -- for the rest of our trip down we flew the genoa and we will take some time here in La Cruz to think about what's next for the spinnaker and necessary bowsprit. 

Poor thing!

The rest of our trip south was without drama.  We sailed wing-on-wing for a bit, and mostly made good time.  We didn't see another boat (or fishing net!) until we arrived at Matanchén.  The bay had about four other boats in it, so we had plenty of room to anchor.  The bay has a nice sandy bottom, so we set the hook and hung out.  



Life in Matanchén Bay:  Matachén and the closest big town of San Blas are notorious for breeding little bugs called "no-seeums" or, in Spanish, jejenes (pro: hayhaynees).  They aren't quite "no-seeums" in that one can see them.  But they're really tiny and very, very annoying when they swarm.  They also bite, though fortunately, it seems that neither of us is susceptible to big welts when we are bitten.  

We had very little jejene trouble while on the boat - we were either far enough from shore for them to care about us or the winds were blowing them off - we're not sure and don't really care since the result was good.  Where we experienced them was on shore at the local beach-side restaurants.  And the cure preferred by the local restauranteus was almost as bad as the disease!  The restaurants burn coconut shells and create huge billows of smoke to keep the little buggers at bay.  Yesterday we sent all of our Gulf of Matachén clothes to the local laundry to see if we can smell like something other than a fire!

We stayed in Matanchén longer than planned to allow Bryce to get over the cold Molly had given him (it's a really small living space . . . so it was a given that he would get it!), and did less while we were there than we had planned.  We went int San Blas one day -- and perhaps because we weren't feeling well, came away with a less than positive impression of the poor little place.  

That said, we did have a nice lunch there and visited the local art museum:
 

The longer stay also means we didn't see any of the other locations along this stretch of coast this time around.  Next trip.  Though we may also want to return to Matanchén which, even with jejeneys, is lovely.  And there are lots of little shops selling really good banana bread!  Yumm.

Matanchén to Banderas Bay:  Our departure from Matanchén was on the evening of the 22nd.  We had low winds, but once we gave up trying to keep a steady course, and sailed to the winds rather than to the course, the trip was really lovely; lots of stars and calm seas.  Molly even saw the famous "phosphorescence" that sailors talk about on one of her night watches -- little sparkles of bright lights floating by the boat.  And she gybed the boat all on her own for the first time.  It wasn't pretty -- but no damage was done and the course got changed!  Next time she'll go for some style points.

Coming into Banderas Bay (home of La Cruz and Puerto Vallarta) we did some whale watching.  We saw a mother and calf aout 9 in the morning, and later saw a group of four.  Bryce even saw a humpback in full breach ("oh, look!" and it was gone)!  Of course we haven't managed to get any of this on film because by the time we hear the breath sound that allerts us to the presence of whales, turn, and focus . . . we get a picture something like this:

So - happy holiday to all of you.  We'll post some information about La Cruz as we get to know the area.  And if we come up with some great idea about how to fix the bow sprit . . . you'll be the first to know!