La Cruz to Barra -- February 3 - 13, 2014

More catching up (think of it as a movie flash back):

Heading Out -- February 3:

We were released from embargo on January 31 and left Marina Nayarit three days later . . . sailing a whopping nine miles west to the Punta de Mita anchorage.  Our plan was to spend time acclimatizing to life on a moving vessel before heading around the somewhat intimidating Cabo Corrientes and further. Every departure from the dock brings a feeling of freedom - but this time we felt very free!

At 18.30, three hours after we departed the dock in La Cruz -- just in time for cocktail hour -- we dropped the hook in sight of the Four Seasons Punta de Mita golf course.  Dinner on the grill and a rum and tonic in hand we celebrated escaping the bizarre paperwork tangle tango that had kept us in La Cruz for six weeks longer than planned. 

At Anchor - Better Than A Night At The Four Seasons!

The next day we prepared meals for our overnight trip around the cape, kept our eye on the golf course to see if we could see anyone famous, and watched the local fishermen at work.

Another night at anchor helped prepare us for sailing again.  

On To ??? -- February 5 - 6

Bryce brought the anchor up at 08.30 and we motored into light breezes.  It was a gorgeous morning. A whale energetically waved good-bye to us; or perhaps was simply flipping sideways to nurse a calf -- but we like the idea of the whale wishing us a safe journey.

Hasta luego, Abracadabra!!!

The winds came up around 13.30. And then up, and up and up . . . We had winds up to 28 knots with gusts up to 34 for the entire day and night. But by the time the sun came up:

  

Sunrise

. . . the wind had dropped like a rock and we were motoring and we had zipped past our initial destination (Bahia Chamela) in the night!

We decided to sail on to Bahia Tenacatita, and dropped anchor there at 11:00. We were happy to see Flyin Sideways a boat we had "met" over the radio while rounding Cabo Corrientes and several other boats known to us from Mazatlan and La Cruz.  

We stayed in Tenacatita Bay for a week reveling in being at anchor and, sadly, we managed not to take a single picture the whole time we were there!

In Tenacatita, on every Friday night during the cruising season, there is a "Mayor's Raft-Up" - a sort-of floating cocktail party. Everyone at anchor in the bay (there were over 20 boats at anchor that week) dinghies to a calm part of the bay and ties up to a central anchor set by "the mayor".  Appetizers, books and CDs are passed and stories are swapped. We've enjoyed these parties in the past and this raft-up was no exception. 

On our last day at anchor we took our dinghy to shore and shared a cab with the crew of S/v Overheated (Rita and Darrel) to the nearby town of La Manzanilla.  We walked through the town, had breakfast and purchased groceries while Overheated's laundry was done at a local lavanderia. Retail activities finished, we taxied back to the enramada on the beach near the anchorage for lunch - and after a careful (dry) dinghy launch, motored home to Abracadabra with food for the next leg of our journey. 

Tenacatita to Barra de Navidad -- February 13

From Tenacatita we planned to travel to Cuastecomate , which is called the "secret anchorage" in cruising literature because the entry to this pretty little bay is so well hidden.  This bay was a favorite of ours in previous seasons and we were looking forward to another visit. We lazed out of Bahia Tenacatita after lunch and sailed the eleven miles to Cuastecomate only to find that -- the secret as out!  Cuastecomate was a very full anchorage.  

So we sailed on to the next planned place, the marina across from Barra de Navidad, located next to a very luxurious Wyndam Hotel!

The Wyndam at Barra

We were happy to arrive in Barra because our friend Jim Thompson was scheduled to meet us there on the 21st, and we were looking forward to a little hanging-by-the-pool time before we all set off on a trip to Ixtapa/Zihuatanejo.

But sadly, lurking in our e-mail inbox was another "paperwork tangle tango" -- this time a tangle tango created by our very own California Public Employee's Retirement System!  

More to come.  

[This is what they call a "cliff hanger" in the movie biz . . . ]

Searching for Paradise On The Way to La Cruz – May 1 – 22

The direct route from Marina Ixtapa to La Cruz de Huanacaxtle (which readers of this blog know as one of our favorite places) is about 331 miles.  Our bay-hopping itinerary made it a longer but a much more enjoyable voyage.  The entire trip was spent travelling through territory we had visited before, but as we have learned in every journey there is the possibility of new experiences.  This trip we learned that there is more than one way to experience paraíso (paradise).

Marina Ixtapa to Bahía Santiago – May 1 to 6

That said, our first leg, a three-day trip to Bahía Santiago, was not paradisiacal.  We managed to eke out only 20 hours of sailing during the 47-hour trip (40%) because low night winds (several hours at 2 to 4 knots) and the combined high swells and moderate winds during the day required us to use the motor to make headway. 

We set anchor at Bahía Santiago late morning on May 3^rd after two nights underway and found that the bay was no longer in the grip of the tourist frenzy that is Semana Santa.  But as the weekend dawned on Saturday, it was clear that the bay is also a popular short-break destination and that we were destined to be entertained once again by jet skis, banana rides and tour boats.  Bryce’s favorite tour boat encounter during this stay:  As the boat approached, blasting 80’s rock-n-roll, the guide announced over the loud speaker that the bay often hosted sailboats from all around the world, and that this boat (Abracadabra) was occupied by gringos. 

Aside:  Life can be interesting when you fly the US flag as publically as one does when sailing a US-registered vessel.  When Bryce was deciding whether to become a US citizen, Molly warned him that traveling on a US passport was different than traveling as a Canadian; that he would no longer benefit from the international assumption that, as a Canadian, he was polite, friendly and peace-loving.  But he took the oath anyway.  Now that is real patriotism – taking the bad with the good. 

The use of the occasional derogatory descriptive term aside, most Mexicans are very kind and polite to US citizens; sometimes because they actually like the US, and sometimes because Mexicans are generally polite to visitors.  During one of our trips to shore in Bahía Santiago two Mexican couples spending the day on the beach with their teenagers invited us to join them.  They wanted to hear about our trip to Mexico and to tell us how much they enjoyed their travels in the US.  They shared their beer with us and would have been happy to let us have one of their beach cocktails (a vile sounding mixture of cognac, mineral water and Coca Cola) had we not declined their offers.  We explained that we couldn’t drink much because we had to launch our dinghy into fairly substantial surf. 

We managed to restrict our intake to only two Coronitos (cute little 6 ounce sized Coronas) each, and to politely extract ourselves from the party.  We were ready to launch.  However, our two male hosts insisted on “helping us”.  Lesson learned:  It’s not enough that the dinghy crew remain sober; the launch crew must also be sober!  Our hosts were not annoyingly drunk by any means – but they weren’t in top dinghy launching form.  Fortunately, the only damage resulting from the Keystone Cops maneuver that got us off the beach was a thorough soaking of all parties.  Bryce managed to row through the surf before starting the engine (our new favorite departure technique – whatever happens in the surf happens without the engine prop spinning into someone), so we got back to Abracadabra with our groceries still in the boat and our hats and sunglasses on!

Bahía Santiago to Bahía Tenacatita – May 6 - 8

Not the perfect journey: an eight and a half hour trip with seven hours on the motor.  We turned in at Barra de Navidad to buy some fuel, worried that if these low winds kept up we might not make it to La Cruz with the fuel on board.

We anchored and enjoyed a quiet evening aboard.  Sadly, the next morning we awoke to find that  Abracadabra was surrounded by scary-looking red water.  We seemed to be experiencing what is often referred to as “red tide” but (according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s website) is more accurately referred to as a “harmful algal bloom”.  NOAA’s website explains that not all algal blooms are harmful, but since we’re not equipped to tell the difference, and we just thought the red water looked a bit icky (our own highly scientific term) we decided to forego a trip to shore and depart the next day. 

Our only neighbor was an Armada Mexicana vessel,

Nice, Quiet Neighbors

so when we woke to see clear water the next morning, we were tempted to stay an enjoy Bahia Tenacatita in the low season.  But we decided to push on to a little bay to the north that we had always wanted to visit – Paraíso.  Who wouldn’t want to visit a place called “Paradise”? 

Bahía Tenacatita to Paraíso – May 8 – 10

Making up for our prior low wind adventures, the universe granted us a day of perfect sailing.  We turned the engine off as we left Bahía Tenacatita and we didn’t listen to the beast again until we arrived in Paraíso five hours later.  We had south-east winds of from 10 to 16 knots all day (warm, clear, beautiful, yada yada yada). 

And yes, we found Paraíso to be aptly named.  Every other time we had passed this tiny little bay it had been fully occupied.  This time it was occupied by Abracadabra – period.  Well, we shared the bay with some day kayakers from a nearby hotel and a few fishermen, but no other boat was anchored at Paraíso while we were there. 

Abracadabra in Paradise

We swam in the clear, coolish water (it’s all about getting in quickly) and explored the bay’s tiny inlets by dinghy. 

Dinghy Tour of the Bay



Wildlife

We peered into sea caves that were too scary to take our dinghy into.  We watched foam erupt from blow holes and understood how early sailors could believe that dragons live there. . .  We walked on the beach.  We watched beautiful sunsets.

Caption Not Required

We concluded that this was Paraíso. 

We didn’t want to leave, but after a week with only one meal on shore we were beginning to be tired of Molly’s cooking (or rather, Molly was getting really tired of Molly’s cooking . . . ).  Plus, our last sail had been so spectacular that we were encouraged to try it again.

Paraíso to Bahía Chamela – May 10 to 12

And again we won the sailing lottery.  After raising anchor we had a short (2 hours) but perfect down-wind sail to Bahía Chamela.  Dolphins playfully swam beside and under Abracadabra.  Ah yes – this too was paraíso.

We anchored off Pérula, the little town at the north end of Bahía Chamela.  We walked into town and purchased some produce and a couple of beers, visiting every little tienda in town to find the few items we wanted.  Pérula is a sleepy little place.

We had lunch at one of the beachside enramadas.  By April of last year we had become somewhat jaded about the menus at these little enramadas.  Much like dinners at a British pub, the frequent enramada visitor can close his or her eyes, guess what the menu will offer – and almost always avoid surprise.  There will be:

• whole huachinango (red snapper) fixed five ways (frito – fried; ajo – garlic; mantequilla – butter; ajillo – garlic and chilies; empanado – breaded);

• fillets of dorado (mahi mahi) fixed (usually, the same) five ways; and

• medium-sized camarones (shrimp) fixed (usually, the same) five ways. 

Sometimes the menu will include pulpo (octopus) fixed (yes) five ways or one of the five ways will include Veracruzana (in the style of Vera Cruz – garlic, onions, tomatoes, olives).  But after several months on the Mexican coast there will be few surprises for the enramada diner.  The only difference between enramadas is the care taken by the cook. 

But interestingly, after an even longer time traveling the coast this year, we found that we enjoyed our filete dorado ajillo very much.  Perhaps the trick is to eat Molly’s Chicken and Vegetables in Trader Joe’s Bottled Mystery Asian Sauce over Rice two nights in a row before trying something “à la five ways” . . .

Bahía Chamela to La Cruz de Huanacaxtle – May 12 to May 13

From Bahía Chamela we motored directly into low winds and two meter (6 foot) plus swells.  Our perfect sail run was clearly over.  For three hours, we held on and listened to the motor as Abracadabra bucked up and down in the swell.  We kept telling each other not to become disheartened – that it wasn’t necessarily the case that we would have to motor the entire 101 miles to La Cruz. 

And so it came to pass.  Three hours out of Chamela the wind picked up and we put up the spinnaker.  The wind was a little low for the spinnaker, but it was going to be okay. 

And then it wasn’t. 

The swells were making it difficult to keep Abracadabra’s stern from crossing the wind – and at the very moment we took our eyes off the sail to eat some lunch (All Available Vegetables Pasta Salad) the spinnaker wrapped in a most bizarre fashion.  And then it wrapped around the furled jib. 

O...M...G...

Because we couldn’t even figure out how the wrap had started, we decided the best approach was to finish lunch. 

After scooping up our pasta salad, and staring a long time at the mysterious wrap, we decided that the worst case scenario was that we would have to motor to La Cruz and hope that the spinnaker didn’t rip - again.  The best case scenario was that we would somehow manage to unwrap the wrap without ripping the sail.  So - we turned on the motor and slowly turned one way . . . but the wrap didn’t come undone.  We then slowly motored the other way . . . and again it didn’t come undone.  Then Bryce went forward to see if pulling on something would have any positive effect . . . and still it remained wrapped.  To assist Bryce in his undirected tugging attempt, Molly eased the spinnaker sheet and let the spinnaker fly a bit and . . . it started to unwrap!  Bryce just stood there and watched it unwind itself – sort of like watching a tangled rope untangle without assistance.  We’ll never be able to replicate our “fix”– but it worked.  We didn’t even take time to do the “happy spinnaker unwrapping dance” – but hastily furled the spinnaker and decided enough was enough – we’d use the jib in these fluky seas. 

The wind seemed to agree that it was time to put the spinnaker to bed because at about 16.00 the seas flattened and the wind increased and shifted to Abracadabra’s bow.  So we tacked, and tacked again and again – every couple of hours throughout the afternoon, evening and night as we rounded Cabo Corrientes (Cape Currents).  We managed to sail all but 8 hours of the entire 28 hour trip! 

Other than Bryce having to wake up twice during Molly’s night watch to help her tack the big jib the trip was very calm and enjoyable.  All of our encounters with cruise ships and container ships were distant sightings.  The seas were relatively flat and the winds, though from an inconvenient direction, were consistent.  When put into the context of rounding one of Mexico’s most problematic capes – and our past hair-raising encounters with mystery ships in the night -- it was a type of paraíso.

Time-Share Paradise – May 15 - 18

We tied up at the La Cruz marina and called our friends Bob and Kathy Romano who were vacationing in Puerto Vallarta.  We were looking forward to joining them for dinner in the big city, and having them visit us in La Cruz.  However, they reported that they had just completed negotiating an upgrade to their time-share arrangement and had been given three days in a two-bedroom suite with an all-inclusive food and drink plan for four.  Now that’s friendship!

We decided this was a sign that the sea gods had sent us the Romanos and their negotiating skills as a reward for all our good sailing.  So we sent our clothes to the laundry, cleaned up Abracadabra, arranged for a diver to clean off the gunk that had accumulated on her hull in Bahía Zihuatanejo, and took a cab to PV to join our (really, really, really good) friends for three days of all-inclusive air-conditioned relaxation.  And because we’re just that kind of friends, we made sure that they got good value for their negotiations: we ate and drank and napped by the pool for three days.  Ah, yes – yet another way to experience paraíso. 

Bob and Kathy, Hard At Work

We also had two wonderful meals in old-town PV.  If you are visiting the area make sure you spend an afternoon enjoying the view, the tapas and the wine at Tapas Barcelona, and an evening enjoying the nuevo Mexicana cocina at No Way Jose! (don’t be put off by the name – the waiters don’t require you to drink tequila shooters and wear a sombrero – it’s a very good restaurant). 

To Date

Because we couldn’t figure out a way to stay at the time-share without Bob and Kathy’s sponsorship, when they left to go home to Spokane we returned to Abracadabra.  We’re doing boat jobs and planning and preparing for the last leg of our trip north – a 400-mile trip into and across the Gulfo de California (Sea of Cortez). 

But even a working-at-the-dock stay can be fun.  Last weekend a national kite-surfing race was held in Banderas Bay, filling the air with brightly colored kites that looked like a swarm of butterflies. 

Kite Surfers - Banderas Bay

But like sailors everywhere we were most entertained by studying one racer’s attempt to recover his downed kite – rooting for him to overcome the obstacles of current and waves, and cheering on another racer that gave up his race position to assist his compadre.  Neither kite-surfing nor sailing is a solitary activity.

We have looked at weather reports and prepared four days’ worth of underway meals.  We have told the Capitan de Puerto that we are leaving.  One more trip to a tienda to purchase bananas and tomatoes and we’re on our way tomorrow morning.  We’ll report in on that trip once we arrive!  Who knows – maybe we’ll find another bit of paraíso along the way?

“The Rime of the Ancient Mariners” or “Boobie Go Home” – March 5 - 12, 2013

WARNING: This post may not be appropriate for small children and bird lovers.

About dusk, on March 5, we were sailing briskly along on our way from La Cruz to Bahia Tenacatita.  Bryce was on watch.  We had successfully rounded Cabo Corrientes, and had just put a reef in each sail for the night, as the winds had risen steadily over the previous hour to between 17 and 20 knots.  Molly was below heating up dinner.  All was well in our little watery world.
A brown boobie approached Abracadabra.  Birds often fly near as we are sailing, and Bryce didn’t think much of this bird’s approach until it swooped down and clipped the backstay with its wing!  The bird staggered through the air, and almost ran into Bryce, who yelled “Holy crap, that bird almost hit me!” (or something to that effect).

The bird circled around, and approached again.  Bryce waved his arms in an attempt to create a visual reference, hoping to keep the bird from again running into the boat.  Molly came out of the cabin to find the Captain hopping up and down, flapping his arms and yelling something eloquent, such as “Shoo Bird!”  The bird did fly away from Abracadabra, but then returned, approaching from the port side.  This time it flew into Abracadabra’s rigging – lodging its head between the shrouds at the lower port spreader. 

To explain this bird’s location to non-sailors:  Shrouds and spreaders are part of the “rigging” that, in very simple terms, acts to stabilize the tall, otherwise wobbly, mast which rises about 48 feet above the deck.  Shrouds are metal cables that run from the top of the mast to the deck of the boat – one on the port side, and one on the starboard.  On Abracadabra these shrouds are connected to the mast in two places by metal braces called spreaders which extend perpendicular from the mast.  The first set of spreaders is about 15 feet above Abracadabra’s deck.  As the shrouds rise from the first spreader to the second, they create a little metal “v” – and that’s where the bird’s head was stuck.

At first we laughed, thinking this looked a lot like a curious little boy getting his head stuck between stair rails.  And then we realized that the stupid bird was well and truly stuck.  It was hanging -- and slowly strangling itself on the spreader!  We watched for a moment, horrified, hoping that the bird could save itself.  It spread its wings, and was able to remain aloft which released some of the pressure on its neck, but it couldn’t get enough lift to rise up and free its head from the “v” of the shrouds.  Its yellow feet (this was not a blue-footed boobie) flapped through the air, trying to get onto the shroud to leverage its head out of the vice it was in.  But it’s legs were too short.  It became rather gruesome to watch.

Struggling Boobie

Bryce grabbed the boat hook, and duct-taped a rod onto it.  He couldn’t reach the bird.  He sat on the boom, and still couldn’t reach the bird.  Finally, he stood on the boom and could reach the bird, but to no avail.  The bird was too heavy to lift with this jury-rigged contraption.  All the stick was doing was causing the poor, trapped bird additional aggravation.  Remember that this is happening on a moving platform in the middle of a lot of water.  Molly began to think it was time to give up on the bird.  Better a dead boobie than an overboard Captain.    

On more than one occasion the bird sagged, and seemed to hang by its neck until dead.  Each time, just as we would decide that all was lost it would revive, spread its wings, and struggle.  But as our recue attempts failed, we began to think the bird was doomed, and we were doomed to have it strangling away all night, and rotting away over our heads during the next several days . . . gruesome on both accounts. 

We each wondered whether a dead boobie in the rigging was like shooting an albatross.  Would we be forever cursed to motor without wind?  Would our water maker break leaving us with “nary a drop to drink”?  Would we be doomed to stop people on their way to weddings to tell them with our boring brown boobie story? 

We broke through this horrible flash-back to middle-school English class and realized that we needed some sort of platform to put under the boobie’s feet.  But what?  “We need a bucket!” the Captain cried.  “Bring me a bucket!”

In an act of selfless sacrifice Abracadabra’s laundress (that would be Molly) donated the largest bucket on board – the laundry bucket – to the cause.  An aside - the laundress unswervingly keeps this bucket separate and apart from the other buckets aboard because they are often filled with yucky boat stuff.
 
The Captain swiftly attached the bucket to the topping lift (for non-sailors this is a rope that runs up through the mast and out the top, back to the back of the boom, where it is attached to lift the boom) and raised the bucket up to the boobie.  The bird flapped a lot, not understanding our good intentions, but its big yellow feet were finally captured inside the bucket and, as the bucket was lifted tight to the spreader, the bird was able to stand in it.  The bucket was shallow enough to permit the bird to raise its head out of the metal “v” in which it was stuck – and, mercifully, it flew away.

Tah-dah!  The happy crew of Abracadabra began the “we just saved the boobie” dance!!!

And then we realized that the bucket was . . . swinging . . . and swooping . . . wrapping the topping lift around . . . and around . . . the mast and the top of the main sail.  High above us our rescue bucket had become a wildly swinging projectile.  In our excitement to create a rescue vehicle we had forgotten to attach a control line to the bucket!  We realized that, unless it came down on its own, we had no way of bringing the bucket down.  And of course, because this is when this sort of thing always happens, it was getting dark.          

We stood watching the bucket swirl around us in the darkening sky like an inanimate circus performer.  Our hearts sunk.  We were worried and we felt very, very stupid.  Finally, we took the only course of action available to us – we raised the bucket to the top of the mast, to prevent it from fouling up the sails, and sailed on.  The next afternoon we proudly rode into Bahia Tenacatita with our bucket proudly aloft!

Ignominious Bucket

On Friday night we join in the Bahia Tenacatita Mayor’s Raft-up.  The raft-up is a twenty-something year long tradition in Bahia Tenacatita where the “mayor” (we’re not sure how someone becomes “mayor” – but it probably has something to do with agreeing to organize the weekly raft-up) anchors his or her dinghy near the shore, and the crews of the other boats in the bay tie their dinghies to the mayor’s anchor rope.  Food is passed from dinghy to dinghy, and adult beverages are consumed.  Used books are traded.  Stories and swapped.  It’s a floating cocktail party. 

As the various dinghies were gathering Bob from Viva turned to Bryce and asked “So, what’s with the bucket?”  Bryce suggested that because more than one yatista might wonder about the bucket that we save the story for later, when all were gathered.  [Frankly, the story wasn’t yet funny to us – we were pretty humiliated by unsailorly-like bucket stuck to the top of the mast.] 

When it came time to share a story with the group, we told the story of the bucket and the boobie.  It was well received.  Everyone had a very good laugh – and mostly at the boobie’s expense!  Bryce explained that he was waiting for the stability of being at a dock before going up the mast to retrieve the bucket.  And then our friend Dick from Full and By explained that he had climbed boats at anchor on more than one occasion and had no qualms about rising 50 feet off the water tied to a rocking mast to retrieve a laundry bucket.  So, apparently, he’s a little crazy – but all to our advantage! 

On Sunday morning at around 08.30, while the water was relatively calm – Dick arrived with his climbing gear, climbed the mast, and rescued the bucket!  And more importantly for his wife Anne, Dick returned to the deck in one un-squashed piece. 

Great Bucket Rescue

Spiderman on Abracadabra

Laudry Can Now Be Done

And thus the story ends happily.  No boobies, buckets or sailors were harmed.  And we are saved from a lifetime of reliving the fate of the ancient mariner! 

We are departing Bahia Tenacatita this morning for destinations (not much) further south, and will post about (hopefully) less exciting adventures soon.    

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.

Bahia Chamela to Bahia Tenacatita February 14 – 18

The weather in Bahia Chamela remained a bit overcast during our visit, but we managed a couple of trips to the beach for lunch.  With each trip we improved our surf landing skills, but we are still struggling a bit with surf departures – and are not confident that we can avoid getting soaked one direction or the other.  We also had a couple of strolls through the little beach-side town of Perula.  Perula is one of those towns strung along a stretch of dusty highway that cause a traveler, when viewing it from the window of a bus, to wonder “who lives here and what do they do for a living?”.  The answer becomes clearer when you visit Perula by foot.  Along the highway are a number of abarotes (groceries) and tiendas (general purpose stores) and one very good pollo asada (grilled chicken) stand.  There is also an estetica (beautician’s shop), which, even though Molly has been agonizing (boringly) over what to do about her “sailor’s hair”, she was just not up to trying.  And of course there is the requisite “beach infrastructure” – small hotels and a couple of camper trailer parks.

Our trip from Chamela to Tenacatita started as a Valentine’s Day trip to an anchorage 8 miles south in a tiny cove called “Paraiso”.  We thought “Paradise Cove” would be a fitting place to spend our Valentine’s Day.  However, as we approached Paraiso, we peaked around the corner and the anchorage looked really rolly due to the high swells, even in the morning’s very low winds.  Our imaginations led us to wonder what a night in “Paradise” would be like if the winds picked up (as they often due in the afternoon and evening) – and with the memories of our nights at Yelapa fresh in our minds, we decided to press on another 20-ish miles to Bahia Tenacatita and forego the romance of a rolly anchorage. 

The trip to Tenacatita was uneventful but productive.  We motored, which had the triple purpose of (a) keeping us moving in a 5 knot breeze; (b) replenishing our batteries, which were quite low (solar power is great . . . until you spend several days anchored in the rain); and (c) making water, which requires a lot of power and is best done when the engine is running if the batteries are low due to lack of sun.  We were treated to a whale show as we were chickening out of a night in Paradise Cove, where we saw four or perhaps more whales – they don’t stay in one place to be counted -- cavorting.  We were finally able to sail around 15.30 (batteries topped, water made, winds finally at 12 knots), and we arrived in Tenacatita in time to anchor and have a Valentine’s Day beer by 18.00. 

The weather in Tenacatita was also a bit overcast, but not rainy.  The anchorage at Tenacatita is more remote than the anchorage in Chamela, and by times the surf landings are more difficult.  We of course managed to time ourselves perfectly on occasion and one particular departure was so spectacularly soggy it caused several cruisers to give us unsolicited advice on dinghy departures (we have been wondering if we should actually charge for some of this entertainment . . .)! 

There is an estuary off of the bay to the village of Tenacatita, and after Bryce figured out how to get us over a sand bar between us and the estuary, we took a dinghy tour about an hour back into the jungle. 

The atmosphere was very "Africa Queen" - lots of mangrove trees and jumping fish - and the occasionl speeding fisherman.



We were entertained by a flock of five white herons (we think that’s what they were – anyone know?) and several other birds that were more difficult to photograph. 

Alas, we did not see any crocodiles, even though they were seen by a commercial trip that went up the estuary the day before. 

The biggest nature thrill, however, was in reponse to a shout-out on the radio one morning.  A call to the Tenacatita fleet reported that one of the other boaters, while rooting around in his boat's bilge, had heard whale calls.  Sure enough, when we lifted the cabin sole and put our heads in the bilge (fortunately we have a relatively clean bilge!) we could hear whale music.  It was spectacular.  No one actually saw whales in the bay that morning, so we must have been hearing sounds from quite some distance - but they were clearly whale songs; very beautiful and wild. 

On an interesting, non-natural world point, Bahia Tenacatita is also the home of an all-inclusive resort named Hotel Blue Bay.  We walked to the resort one day to ask about the cost of a day pass which proved to be too expensive, but gave us a chance to download and send some e-mails.  We were interested in the fact that most of the signs about activities around the resort were in Cyrillic – and even those that were not were in a language that we couldn’t identify.  Clearly the marketers at Hotel Blue Bay have an in with the tourist industry in – Russia -- some other place in Eastern Europe? 

Later that day our question was answered.  We were entertained by a film / video crew shooting along the beach and at the little palapa restaurant near the anchorage – including using one of the local waitresses as a cast member.  The story line wasn’t clear, but the main actor looked like an American soap opera doctor and the main actress seemed spectacularly uninterested in him (and everything else around her).  When we asked one of the production crew what they were doing, we learned they were shooting Paradise Beach – a very popular reality TV show in . . . Hungary!  And it was confirmed that Hotel Blue Bay was indeed a popular destination for Russians and Hungarians.  How international!  For those of you not planning on visiting Hungary in time to catch this episode of Paradise Beach, here’s a bit of what you’re missing:

Several boats we knew from other anchorages or marinas (Cuba Libre, Buena Vida and Damiana) were at Tenacatita with us, which was fun.  Seeing them made us feel part of the cruiser community – even if we’re still “freshmen” members.  And, we were there for the “Mayor’s Raft-up” – a cruiser’s event not to be missed.  Apparently every Friday during the sailing season someone from the crew of a boat in the anchorage takes on the exalted position of “Mayor of Bahia Tenacatita” (it seems to be a self-appointed position) and sponsors a dinghy raft-up.  This sponsorship requires the “Mayor” to anchor his/her dinghy near a very calm area of shore known (for reasons we have not been able to discern) as “Good Dog Beach” and invite all other dinghies in the anchorage to tie up together (raft-up) and bring drinks, an appetizer to share, books and CDs to swap – and a story to tell. 

So we spent Friday evening listening to the “how I named my boat and where I’ve been with her” stories of about 15 boats, eating a pot-luck assortment of food (and being very sorry we arrived too late for the brownies – there were only 12, apparently . . . ) and swapping books.  Molly has already finished 44 Scotland Street by Alexander McCall Smith which we got in trade for Travels of a Female Nomad by Rita Goldman Gelman – and insists that we got the better of the trade.  Interestingly, tucked into that book was a CD of The Scorpion King III in Spanish.  We can’t wait.  

Having made it to the weekly social highlight of Bahia Tenacatita, and in order to depart in time to meet our friends and former crew Frank Chan and Irene deBruijn Chan in Puerto Vallarta for part of their honeymoon (everyone needs a friend or two to meet on one’s honeymoon, don’t you think?), we departed Bahia Tenacatita on the 18^th.  Our trip was made safer because of the weather reports gathered and shared by Roy and Marlene from Damiana, for which we are grateful.  But it wasn’t actually the weather that made that trip challenging.  That story is to come!