SV Gallant Fox

A Guided Tour of Chiapas: Part the First

For cruisers who don't have enough time for DIY tourism all over the state of Chiapas, consider hiring Tony Alfaro as your guide. He can manage groups of any size, and if you already have something specific in mind to see, Tony will take you there. Marina Chiapas has all Tony's 411 for the discerning traveler.

[Since we're discussing a road trip, I include here a pic of an Average Mexican Road Dog. The Road Dog spends most of its time hanging out juuust outside the lane of traffic of whatever road goes through town. These dogs are very relaxed about lounging extremely close to passing traffic, whether it be trucks, buses, or bicycles. When they must move, they heave a sigh and mosey out of the way as slowly as they can. Apparently they're immune to exhaust fumes too.]

Anyway, we asked Tony for an all-day trip that began at 8AM and continued to almost 6PM. We paid US $60 per person and his tour was worth every Lincoln-head penny. We began with a few of downtown Tapachula's historic buildings; then in no particular order we visited coffee plantations; watched an international-award-winning artisanal chocolatier do her delicious magic in her own home; and walked around the early Mayan ruins of Izapa. Here's how it all went down:

Spend Time in Puerto Chiapas

A cruiser does not have to expend much effort looking for things to do in and around Puerto Chiapas while waiting, one might say, for a weather window to take one's boat south or north. We hung around - intentionally, mind you - for almost 2 months because of the lavish exploration opportunities. Please, I beg you , take advantage of at least a few of them if you're in the neighborhood.

We wasted no time. Nursing mild hangovers from the previous night's Christmas party (more from lack of sleep than excess of booze, kids, and I'm sticking to that story no matter how much scoffing I hear from cyberspace), we hired a tour guide, Tony Alfaro, to drag us to all the sites and sights around the province that we'd have been hard pressed to find by rental car. Tony did not disappoint, and if you're in the marina you can easily contact him for your own adventure - ask Enrique or Memo.

<--- (Meet Tony. That's a nearby volcano in the background, beyond the platform mound. For US $60 for the whole day, Tony will take you there plus lots of other cool places.)

I speak one language fluently (English) plus 2 other languages incompetently, and I can count to 19 in Japanese and to 99 in Korean and I can sometimes figure out simple road signs written in French or Italian. I was gobsmacked that Tony spoke - fluently - NINE languages well enough to lead tours. Plus he was learning a few more languages on the side, because how could he call himself a tour guide in Chiapas, Mexico, if he didn't at least speak Mandarin and Cantonese, right? He could even switch off among languages as he spoke, which is a talent my pea brain will never master. Me speak one language at time. Me no can do more. So I was in awe of Tony and hung on every word. Also, he had jade-green eyes. Which, yowza.

Next series = the parts of the state of Chiapas that Tony showed us. Way too much for just one post...

m

Christmas 2014 - A Most Excellent Cruiser Party

We moved aboard The Fox in March, 2003, and by December, 2014 we had spent almost all 11 Christmases aboard. We spent some holidays by ourselves at anchor. Other times, we shared dinner with 1 or 2 other boats. Sometimes there was a typical cruiser potluck-style event. But that Christmas in Marina Chiapas in 2014 was magical.

Part of what made it so special was that Puerto Chiapas is one of those gates that cruisers go through to get to the next level. People who have only cruised in Mexico have trepidation crossing the Gulf of Tehuantepec from Huatulco southbound to Puerto Chiapas, and rightly so. To arrive at Marina Chiapas from the north is an achievement in itself...but the next emotion the southbound cruiser feels is the sadness of soon leaving Mexico. It's become a home. The cruiser's next gate is to check out of home - Mexico - maybe forever - and sail further into The Great Unknown. Low-level anxiety and loss are natural and expected.

Then there are the relatively few people who cross the Tehuantepec every year without regard for the weather conditions, and come limping in to Marina Chiapas with torn sails, busted rigging, and very shaky hands. (Protip: if you happen to meet someone who's just arrived at Marina Chiapas, and they start their conversation by telling you exactly how super-experienced they are in sailing? They're fixin' to tell you the story of how they made a giant bonehead newbie screwup by not paying attention to the Tehuantepec weather forecasts because they were so super-experienced already, and because they were so super-experienced they didn't need to ponder what those Tehuantepec forecasts actually meant because again: super-experienced.) So some people in Marina Chiapas have recently been somewhat terrified and have had to confront the Greeks' concept of hubris in a very close and personal way.

Then there are the folks like us who've sailed elsewhere and have returned to Mexico because in our opinions it just doesn't get any better, anywhere. There are feelings of welcome combined with relief and excitement and worry that things might have changed too much during the time we were gone.

What I mean is: emotions are tender in Puerto Chiapas, I don't care who you are. Christmas becomes a very, very important holiday to people who feel so far away from where they think they ought to be.

We were lucky to have a wonderful mix of folks from all over the place. We had the crew of the small commercial trawler "Sea Watch" aka "SharkWatch.org,"  en route to the Cocos Islands in Costa Rica on a contract to study fish poaching. We had some Canadian couples like Brad and Joanne on Loukia from Nanaimo. There was Bruno, the German single-hander of the steel ketch Katharina, who was deferring his Pacific crossing for a year or more, to sail northward and enjoy the Sea of Cortez. Rain and Scott on Fool's Castle out of San Francisco were on the hard for repairs. Hannah and Birgit out of Seattle were aboard Serafin. Nate from Vancouver BC was aboard Insouciant. Delivery skipper Scott with his crew were all aboard Heron en route to Peru. The United Nations should be so lucky as to have this group.

Three of us got together to make a party happen. What began as a party for 6 rapidly expanded into an event for 16 as other boats arrived in the marina. Gallant Fox supplied the venue. Loukia planned a white-elephant gift exchange. Fool's Castle supplied the basis of the feast --- and did it while they were on the hard, people. Check out the menu: Fool's Castle: a giant pot of tamales, salad, dessert, wine, even music! Gallant Fox: turkey, stuffing, and a dried-fruit chutney. Katharina: SEVEN bottles of wine. [Maybe more - details are hazy.] Loukia: mashed potatoes, pasta salad, and veggies. Serafin: palm-heart salad, pasta salad, and cake. Pannikin, out of Australia: deviled eggs & salad. Just-arrived boats who hadn't even had a chance to re-provision in town worked hard to prepare even more goodies. Everyone partied into the warm Chiapas night as if we were all among our oldest, dearest friends. For that one moment in time, we all were.

The next morning one of the delivery crew on the SharkWatch team - a young 20-something surfer-looking dude - stopped by to tell us that when his boat had rolled in to Marina Chiapas, he had thought he would be having the loneliest Christmas of his life. Instead, he said, he had his best Christmas ever.

I know what you mean, kid.

m

More Critters in Puerto Chiapas

 Marina Chiapas has a lot going for it, including a small habitat around back of the restaurant, in which volunteers rehabilitate and then release back in to the wild the 2 species of turtles found in the estuary. Here we see (1) their fenced enclosure on the marina grounds - complete with its very own palapa; as well as (2) a poorly-taken pic of an annoyed turtle trying to escape the sun's glare and cursing at me in Spanish.

These interpretive signs explain which turtles one may looking at. For the Spanish-lite, the sign for the Casquito huacalero, aka the red-cheeked mud turtle, roughly translates as "Lives in areas with very slow currents, like ponds, swamps and puddles. Commonly seen on land especially in damp areas hidden under foliage or looking for food. They prefer hiding themselves in mud where they remain totally undetected. In the wild they eat insects, mollusks, dead fish and carrion; they do not usually eat vegetable matter. Not a species that has problems, not susceptible to diseases, lives without problems with other species, and adapts easily to captivity. Ranges from Mexico to Panama; subspecies "abaxillare" lives only in Chiapas."

 

The Great Splash of December 2014

Our placing of The Fox back in the water - our reverse haulout, if you will - occurred in December, 2014, in Puerto Chiapas, Mexico. I was gratified to overhear a Mexican national on our incoming flight complain about "being back in the Tapachula sauna." At least I know it wasn't just Menopausal Me who had trouble with the heat and humidity.

Overall, The Fox had weathered the 6 rainy summer months fairly well. Sails, rig, transmission, shaft seal, and electronics were all fine. No leaks. Watermaker was fully functional. There was a small amount of corrosion on some electronics terminals and the expected grime on deck and the batteries were fully discharged, but ultimately we found no serious problems with any gear. This pic shows The Fox before getting a new coat or 2 of hull paint.

We had asked the yard guys to prep and paint the hull because the weather was just too hot and humid for GB to DIY this time. The yard guys did an excellent job and it was well worth their labor at US $600. (The copper-enriched hull paint was the typical going price of about US $200 per gallon.) In that pic over there on the left, you can just barely see marina manager Enrique Laclette, striding away in his white shirt. 

Tapachula Earthquake - July 7, 2014

So. About earthquakes in southernmost Pacific Mexico: They haz them.

During the summer that The Fox rested on jackstands in the boat yard at Mariana Chiapas, there was a spot of bother: an earthquake of 6.9 magnitude occurred just offshore of Tapachula, Mexico, at about 37 miles deep in the Earth's crust. There is nothing like an earthquake to give absentee cruisers the yips. Lots of concerned email traffic to Marina Chiapas from all over the place ensued.

Results: very sadly, there were fatalities in both the state of Chiapas and in Guatemala, in addition to the damage to some buildings throughout the region. Overall damage in Tapachula seemed to be less than in Guatemala. In contrast, Marina Chiapas sustained no earthquake damage at all. None of the boats in storage or floating at the docks were disturbed in the least. Everyone supposed that it may have been the result of having built the marina buildings and paved the boat yard over a substantial layer of compacted, fine sand which might have acted as a cushion of sorts.

Only Mother Earth and Neptune would know for sure....

m

The Great Puerto Chiapas Haulout of 2014

May 2, 2014. Hauled The Fox at Marina Puerto Chiapas for hurricane-season storage. Did the usual preparatory chores.Weather was very hot and humid but Memo's haulout (that's him in the light blue shirt with the TraveLift controls), the pressure washing, and the placement on jackstands all went smoothly. Covered The Fox with mesh landscape fabric once it was on the hard.

 

 

 

The boat yard/dry dock area is paved and secure. If you look beyond The Fox's stern in that last pic on the right up there, you will see the entrance to the boat yard/dry storage yard and some of the boats there. Dry jungle borders one side of the fence on the far right side of the pic.

And so The Fox was ready for bed....

m

Puerto Chiapas, Chiapas, Mexico

Marina Puerto Chiapas is an excellent place to visit, get necessary boat work done, or to store one's boat for the season. Earthquakes and tsunamis notwithstanding. (More on that, in a later post.) On the right, you see a view of their innermost dock, looking toward a portion of their asphalt-paved dry dock and boat yard. --->

The approach through the port's entrance jetty is deep and straightforward, and the angles entrance up the estuary past the fishing fleet and into the marina area is well-buoyed. The government officials who check you in and out of Mexico here are as efficient and professional as in any other Mexican port, but be aware that because Puerto Chiapas is so close to the border with Guatemala, the port's policy is to have a Marine and his drug-sniffin' dog inspect your vessel both after it enters, and before it leaves, port. No exceptions. We saw some folks try to leave north or south as soon as they had a weather window, and didn't want to wait for the pesky formality of a drug inspection. 100% of the time they were escorted back to the dock by unsmiling military in a panga. So, be hip, kids.

Waiting for Weather the El Salvador Way

Late April, 2014. The 55-mile transit from Puesta del Sol, Nicaragua, coastwise across the Gulf of Fonseca to the anchorage at Punta Amapala, El Salvador, was hot, humid, smoky, and uneventful. Four-foot swells from the southeast gave us a beamish rolly passage. Breeze came and went. Two other northbound cruising sailboats joined us at anchor in Punta Amapala's wide bay, as we all waited for a couple of days for a storm further northward, in Mexico's Gulf of Tehuantepec, to blow itself out.

We'd comfortably anchored in this bay before, on our southbound journey in 2010, but it wasn't that way this time. Swells from the southeast - pushed by strong Papagayo winds down Nicaragua way, we reckoned - began rolling relentlessly into our anchorage. Like, really rolling. Enough to cause unsecured objects to fly around belowdecks. For 2-1/2 days. None of the three of us boats wanted to aim for the marinas at either Puerto Barillas or Bahia del Sol under conditions like these because both of those ports have sand bars blocking their entrances; steep rolling seas presented the kind of enhanced risk in both locations that none of us wanted to take. Instead we all reanchored as closely around the point as we could, which helped with the rolliness...somewhat. Meanwhile, 5 or 6 fishing pangas worked both sides of the point. I did not envy those guys, working in conditions like that.  

Puesta del Sol - Worst. Departure. Ever.

Well, OK; maybe it wasn't the absolute WORST takeoff from a dock we've ever made, but it was definitely among the top 5. Maybe one of the top 3, since a MOB (man overboard) was involved.

There we were, 5:40 in the morning of April 15, 2014. Nicaragua. Looked very much like this:
Sun was rising, it was already getting warmer, and the weather was calm. We had a weather-window and we'd already squared-away our exit the day before with the local officials. Time to skedaddle.

Oopsie-daisy.

Upon backing out of our slip a 3-knot ebb current that I hadn't fully appreciated (no, really) immediately spun The Fox sideways and beam-to the finger pier. We gently tapped the end of the dock but successfully avoided all contact with the Italian-flagged sailboat that was moored next to us. We gave large throttle and within moments we'd gotten the bow back in the direction where it belonged, i.e., pointing away from everything solid. Disaster averted, and it wasn't even 0600 yet. We'd been awesome. We motored stately into the estuary.

Oopsie-daisy.