Mexico's markets offer the best dried beans in the greatest variety of anywhere in the galaxy. My personal favorite are the Peruanos. They're sold mostly along the Pacific side of Mexico including the interior mainland, and you can get them in practically any size market. In dried form - in bag or bulk - they are the size and shape of small pinto beans, but whereas pintos are pinkish-tan with dark brown specks, Peruanos are a uniform pale greenish-yellow color. When cooked, Peruanos turn a light tan color. Their flavor is as delicate as their hue, milder than pinto beans with a creamier texture.
I'd love to include a photo of Peruanos to document their yummy yumminess. But I ate them all. The beans, not the photos. So go here to see what I'm talking about.
I haven't yet found Peruanos in any US market. I have no idea why not; they'd be popular with lots more than Mexican food. Below the fold you'll find GB's basic recipe for cooking Peruanos in a pressure cooker, though if you can't find any Peruanos you could experiment with another bean variety of your preference.
Mornings at anchor in the lagoon of Barra de Navidad are special times. About 8 o'clock the local cruisers' net comes up on VHF radio, a time when many cruisers greet the day with their first cup of coffee. By the time they're on their second cup of coffee, another voice comes over the VHF: the Gallic tones of The French Baker, announcing that his panga full o' fine French pastries is starting the rounds of the marina and all the boats anchored in the Lagoon.
Artisan bread and pastries do not come cheap relative to Mexican baked goods. You'll pay in pesos the equivalent of $1.90 US for an almond croissant or a baguette; or about $3.00 for an individual pie/tart, but once you have your first taste and reflect upon the fact that they were delivered fresh daily to your boat...well, you can't buy anything close to it anywhere else in the Western Hemisphere.
Observe, if you will, the French Baker's wares in the accompanying photo. See that little chocolate tart? That, dear reader, is a chocolate-mango-ginger tart and you can get it nowhere else but the Barra Lagoon. It is heaven on the taste buds, my friend, and reason alone to set sail to Barra to get you some.
Life afloat often has its little moments of pure joy. The French Baker's visits are such moments. But be careful how you tell the folks back home about him. Once they hear that there is a place where you can get a fine traditional European breakfast delivered fresh daily to your boat for less than the price of a Seattle double-tall latte, they will never again sympathize with any of your tales of heavy weather, engine repairs and surf landings in the dinghy.
If you want to see more of Oaxaca than just the town itself, there are plenty of day trips to take. For the archaeology buff like GB, no trip to southern Mexico would be complete without a look-see at some prehispanic ruins. The Oaxaca area has some good ones. It's easy for yatistas to take a bus trip from Huatulco to Oaxaca, so consider exploring the greater Oaxaca area for at least 3-5 days and seeing at least 2 major sites. You can take local buses to the sites, hire a van or pickup truck/taxi or join a small tour in a van. Tour operators both large and small, expensive and cheap, ply their trade throughout Oaxaca's centro district so it's easy to get transportation to and from the ruins of your choice.
To really enhance your understanding of what each site offers (especially since most sites include Spanish-only signage), use an archaeological guide book like Andrew Coe's Archaeological Mexico - A Traveler's Guide to Ancient Cities and Sacred Sites (Avalon Travel, 2d ed. 2001). Coe gives good explanations - maps and photos included - of the historical, geographic and cultural context of most of the tourist-accessible ruins throughout Mexico. He ranks the sites by using cute little trowel symbols: 4 trowels is "a world-class site, a must for every visitor"; 3 trowels signifies "a major site, possessing great historic and/or artistic value"; and 2 trowels is "worth a detour, and generally of regional importance." 1-trowel sites are only for the hardest-core archaeo-fans.
We saw two sites while in Oaxaca: Monte Alban (4 trowels) and Mitla (a 3-troweler). Given our limited time we chose to take tour vans to both sites, something we don't usually do. In retrospect we should have gone on our own because we tend to want to spend more time exploring ruins than tours allow. But, for most people who are not hyper-avid history buffs the tours would probably be very acceptable.
Monte Alban
Monte Alban is indeed a world-class site. Occupation began about 500BC and continued to about 1520AD. In its heyday (100-600AD) there were an estimated 25,000 occupants in the ceremonial center and another 100,000 in the surrounding countryside. Various groups built their temples and other structures on top of those of preceding groups - so you have Mixtec on top of Zapotec on top of Olmec. The ruins are well excavated and restored, and the on-site museum has many of the rock carvings and artifacts retrieved from the ruins (other artifacts have been repatriated to more distant museums and I dare say some disappeared into private collections throughout the world as soon as they were unearthed).
Monte Alban's carved steles (rock slabs) depict humans in poses that earlier archaeologists described as "Dancers" and "Swimmers." Allow me to retort. That interpretation was made back in the day when it was fashionable to characterize native groups the world over as noble savages, at one with nature and in peace and harmony with the universe. Noooo; after looking at the Monte Alban steles, if you've ever seen crime scene or car accident photos - or ever watched an episode of "Bones" or "CSI Wherever," it's pretty clear that native groups are like everybody else, and always have been. If those steles show "dancers" and "swimmers," it's people dancing in pain and swimming in agony. I saw depictions of bound captives with dislocated joints, broken extremities, and strangulations.
Grisly stuff - to me, the steles seem to be less artistic renditions and more documentary records. But that's just one tourist's opinion. Once again, here's the human skull retrieved from Monte Alban's Tomb 7, all decorated with turquoise and seashells. Could be a lovingly preserved skull of a favorite relative; the artistically enhanced skull of a respected enemy; or the 500AD version of a WWII lampshade. You decide.
Or, take as another example the finely rendered, 2-to-4-foot-tall terra-cotta incense burners that were found by the hundreds in the tombs of Monte Alban and other sites. Before the advent of DNA testing, archaeologists described them as "incense burners" because they'd found residue from copal incense in the clay pots that sat atop the burners themselves. Of course, they omitted the fact that they'd also found bones in the incense burners - but hey, some of them were obviously from jaguar paws, so no big deal, right? Yeah, well lately scientists have discovered that mixed in with the jaguar paws and incense had been human phalanges (fingers, that is) and copious amounts of...human blood. Some of it appears to have been voluntarily donated. Yeesh. I emphasize: archaeologists have found hundreds of these "incense burners."
OK, they're still very pretty to look at. When they're empty.
Monte Alban is worth a day trip, just to marvel at what it must have taken for the original occupants to level so much ground and build the temples with all their subterranean tunnels and chambers; and for the 20th century archaeological teams to meticulously excavate and restore all that is there. And if your Spanish is good, strike up a conversation with one of the old guys who stroll around the site selling trinkets to the turistas: these guys are the descendants of the workers who originally helped the archaeologists in the excavations back in the 1930s - and at least one of them has some very interesting stories to tell about what still lies underneath.
Mitla
Coe calls Mitla a 3-trowel site. It's an easy day trip from Oaxaca town, and the
accessible portion of the site is fairly small. About 1/3 of it is underneath a Catholic church that those crazy Spaniards built in the 17th century, just to show the locals who was boss. The entire site is located right in the middle of the modern town. Growing up next to an ancient Zapotec temple must be quite different from, say, a childhood in Chatsworth.
The Mitla structures are unique in that they include large, intricate, extensive friezes and mosaics carved out of separate large pieces of stone, interspersed with remains of red-and-white painted murals. In fact, all the buildings at Mitla (like buildings at other sites) had originally been stuccoed and painted bright red, white, and even blue and yellow. A sample of the original red color that
predominated at Mitla was included as part of its restoration - just to give the gawkers a feel for what it must have been like back in the day. The geometric
patterns of the Mitla mosaics are thought by some archaeologists to represent families or clans, like heraldic crests or tartans do for certain Anglo-Saxon tribes. Whatever the original meaning of the mosaics, they are indeed high art and certainly put to shame that wallpaper you bought from Home Depot.
You can spend a fulfilling vacation in the state of Oaxaca and never actually leave the city of Oaxaca itself. There is that much to see and do. And buy. Ahem.
The ex-convent of Santo Domingo is in the centro district, and
like many other ex-convents around Mexico, this one has been restored and turned into a community arts center and a regional museum. Its grounds have been developed into a botanical garden featuring native regional plants, each area having been designed by one of several landscape architects. Beauty. If your passion is Spanish Colonial architecture, precolumbian artifacts, botany or landscape design, you may want to plan more than one full day for a visit just to this one place.
Speaking of precolumbian artifacts, Santo Domingo's collection
of ceramics and other objects retrieved from sites around the state of Oaxaca is a total tourist must-see. They've got your ceramic funerary urns featuring not just supernatural figures like the nice lady on the left, but also some portraits of the deceased - like this old soothsayer guy over here on the right.
One of the museum's most famous artifacts is the human skull overlaid with turquoise and shell, that was retrieved from Tomb 7 at the Mixtec site of Monte Alban (Tomb 7 was a treasure trove similar to King Tut's, it is said). I'm not sure if this decorated skull was a respected family member's, or if it was a war trophy that needed embellishment. I've seen a fair amount of American Southwest art in my day where a cow or buffalo
skull is given the same treatment. I'm not sure if this means that decorating skulls has always been an innate art form, or if in the 21st century it's only the Jeffrey Dahmers who still work with human skulls -- but the more I think about it the creepier it gets. Nice seashell eyes, though, don't you think?
(Can you feel the eyes following you about the room?)
If it's less macabre and more contemporary Oaxacan culture you're looking for, I'd recommend attending a Guelaguetza - a performance of folkloric music and dance featuring traditional garb. It shows only the state of Oaxaca's regional differences, and the cultural diversity of such a small geographic area is impressive. We saw one of the weekly
Friday performances at Fonatur's Hotel Camino Real, which included a very lavish dinner buffet. We're not accustomed to large buffets serving a couple hundred diners, so in some ways the meal itself was as much a cultural experience as what we later saw onstage. My, that buffet was competitive. We were completely outclassed by all the other diners, who I think must have honed their skills on cruise ships and at high-end hotel brunches. The dessert buffet was completely picked over before any of these people even looked at the dinner items.
Good thing GB's trained as an anthropologist: he saw how other people were handling food retrieval, and he realized we needed to form our own defensive strategy. Quickly. While acting nonchalant and staying classy. It was tough to blend in, but we didn't walk away underfed. We didn't even have to resort to filling our pockets...
[I love Mexico. I think about it often, even as I travel elsewhere. Also, because I've been remiss in posting contemporaneously, you get these illustrated musings completely out of context to where I am right now. Such is the cruiser's mind.]
When we spent a full month in Marina Chahue in Huatulco (Feb.-Mar. 2010), it was part of a plan. We wanted plenty of time to wait for a weather window to cross the Gulf of Tehuantepec into Central America. We knew that during February and March we'd likely have to wait a couple of weeks for good weather. But we had more in mind. We wanted to spend some of that waiting time, touring inland.
We took a 9-day bus trip out of Huatulco. Part I led us 7 hours by first-class bus from Huatulco to Oaxaca (the city; conveniently located in the eponymous state) to not just visit the city itself but some of the nearby prehispanic ruins. Shopping for various types of souvenirs also figured heavily into our plans. Plus, GB found a small B&B, Casa de los Sabores, in the city center whose owner/chef ran a nearby restaurant and offered cooking classes in traditional Mexican cuisine. GB took one of those cooking classes and had himself some fun. Our plate was full, so to speak.
Part II of this road trip took us 13 hours by bus from Oaxaca to San Cristobal de las Casas, in the state of Chiapas. From there, it was yet
another bus trip of about 5 hours to the town and
nearby world-class ruins of Palenque in the Mexican state of Chiapas
near the Guatemala border.
Oaxaca and Chiapas are great areas for tourism - whether your interest is in
restaurants, museums, cooking classes, archaeology, Spanish classes,
shopping for art and handicrafts, or some of all of the above. In fact,
there's so much that's accessible to the average cruiser out
of Huatulco, I've had to break it down into a series of posts. Lucky
you.
The Bus Trip from Huatulco to Oaxaca
Seven hours from Huatulco to Oaxaca. Rode through rolling hills that became mountains. Began passing fields of maguey, the succulent cactus from which mescal is made. Saw roadside open-sided sheds in which the hearts of the maguey were roasted, then ground with a millstone powered by a burro. (In one case, though, I saw it was powered by bicycle. Burro wins!) The roasted, ground maguey product is then distilled in hand-made wooden vats. I lost visual track of the process about then; presumably the mescal is then taken from the roadside vats to be bottled elsewhere. They say that each small distiller bottles his own mescal for personal use and/or for sale to the local community but considering the volume of mescal we saw everywhere I wouldn't be surprised if some distillers sell their product to a larger bottler/distributor, like the practice among grape growers and some wineries. But I shouldn't speculate so wildly.
Still musing on the mysteries of the mescal industry, we arrived in Oaxaca. Slow traffic to centro district and Casa de los Sabores, due to much road construction throughout downtown. Good source of jobs for the construction trades, & our tourism was only superficially impaired. Carried flashlight for nighttime walks so as to avoid plummeting to my death in a construction ditch. Many good restaurant options, including the tlayuda stand across the street from Casa de los Sabores (see blurry pic on left), which, it turns out, is quite the popular evening dining destination for all the Oaxacan locals-in-the-know.
Next post: Oaxaca's Ex-Convent Santo Domingo and its Regional Museum.
The Gulf of Tehuantepec is a large body of water bounded on the east by the narrow isthmus that separates the Gulf of Tehuantepec from the Gulf of Mexico, near Mexico's southern border with Guatemala. The T'pec spans roughly 250 miles from the town of Huatulco on its northwestern edge, to the commercial port of Puerto Chiapas on its southeastern edge. Vessels like The Fox that leave Mexico for Central America must cross the Gulf of Tehuantepec. Difficulty: Mexico's isthmus includes a gap between two relatively high mountain ranges, and any wind that is blowing from the north or northeast in the Gulf of Mexico tends to get funneled through the mountain gap and accelerates dramatically into the Gulf of Tehuantepec on the Pacific side of Mexico. Other nearby areas can be calm while Tehuantepec winds are very strong, especially in the center of the gap at 95 degrees west longitude.
The greatest danger to Pacific boaters is that the strong T'pec winds make the seas build quickly into high, steep waves with very little space between them. Even vessels the size of commercial freighters can sustain heavy damage from such conditions; and when the T'pec really starts to blow the high winds and steep seas can spread out from the gap for hundreds of miles, making travel in any direction at practically any distance offshore very risky. The most reliable strategy for dealing with the T'pec's conditions is for vessels - especially small boats like The Fox - to cross the Tehuantepec by keeping as close to the shoreline as possible to minimize the effects of any building waves. And by "close," the cruising guides mean a boat should travel just a few hundred yards outside the breaking surf, in 30-40 feet of water. And is expected to continue to do so for the whole 250-some miles of the Gulf - except for those places where rocks and shoals jut out into the Gulf for a few miles. A T'pec crossing can take at least 2 or 3 days, and often longer. It is also very demanding, navigationally speaking, keeping so close to shore with so little margin of error. Fortunately the strong T'pec winds are well forecast, so a prudent boater loads up with fuel and studies the weather closely, and often, for days before making the commitment to cross.
Here, then, our story:
7.Mar.2010
Bade a sad farewell to Mexico. Checked out of Huatulco, left Marina Chahue, and traveled 4.75 mi. to the bay of Tangolunda, so that GB could clean the hull and prop and we could both rest up for a sunset departure into the Gulf of Tehuantepec. The weather forecast was favorable; indicated northerly breezes in 20-knot range through the following morning, thereafter decreasing to less than 16 knots for the next 3 or 4 days, giving a wide weather window for a crossing. Plan: follow the one-foot-on-the-beach strategy to transit the T'pec, leaving Tangolunda just before dark to make 60 miles overnight, before crossing the potentially windiest & busiest portion of the Tehuantepec (including the commercial port of Salina Cruz, the center of the gap at Bahia Ventana, and the two sets of shoals at the estuary mouths past Ventana) during daylight hours.
7.-12.Mar.2010 First 30 miles parallelling the shore from Huatulco to Salina Cruz at about 4 miles offshore. Rolly seas with sets of 4'-5' waves at 5 seconds, SW winds behind us at 7-10 knots. At the 30-mile point the winds quickly turned westerly, then N-NE, and built to 15-24 knots. The now-headwinds and rolly seas continued for about 10 hours through the rest of the night and after sunrise on 8.March as we passed Salina Cruz and had Bahia Ventana abeam. Given the uncomfortable seas we headed due E to close the shore and find shallow water. During the day of 8.March we transited the coast in depths of 40-45 feet about 1/4 mile or less offshore. Occasionally we moved 1/4 mile further offshore for deeper water, but the wind and waves increased significantly so we turned back into shallower water. Lesson learned: in the T'pec, every quarter-mile can make a big difference in conditions. As we followed the shoreline around to the SE the N-NE wind drew aft of our beam and decreased to 12-17 knots. Seas flattened. As we approached 95 degrees longitude and the center of the gap, the wind suddenly shifted again to forward of the beam, SW 9-13 knots. These light conditions became steadier so we mutually decided to sail further offshore, and at 1600 on 8.March we changed course to cross the T'pec along 16 degrees latitude. NOTE: this "shortcut" worked for us but we do not recommend that anyone use this as their main strategy. It saves only a few miles at most. However, we chose to take the risk because we'd had a forecast from a reliable source that was favorable for several days, and we in fact experienced very calm conditions throughout the forecast period, alternating sailing with motor-sailing. In other words, we got lucky.
Conditions remained so light, that we actually flew our geniker for several hours. Flying a geniker while crossing the dread Tehuantepec - it is the stuff of legend.
Except for a near-collision with a fast-moving (19 knots) freighter on autopilot heading W out of Puerto Chiapas after sunset on 9.March, the sailing conditions were excellent. As we put Puerto Chiapas behind us and entered Guatemalan waters about 20 miles offshore, we picked up a 1.5-knot current assist that increased to 2.0 knots when we closed to about 3-7 miles offshore. Transiting Guatemala, we dodged several commercial shrimpers & many pangas (lit only by fishermen's flashlights) during the nighttime hours and several small drift nets during the day, but The Fox and all other vessels behaved themselves well and kept their distance from one another.
The favorable current and light winds carried us all the way to El Salvador. In fact, the wind, seas and current were all SO favorable, we had to slow the boat down by reefing the main sail and foresail to avoid arriving at our destination - the estuary mouth and sand bar at Bahia de Jiquilisco, El Salvador - before daylight and high tide slack. What a shame, to waste such incredible sailing conditions!
As morning came on 12.March our good luck continued. Instead of having to hold station at the entrance waypoint outside the bar where boats meet the Marina Barillas pilot panga, we had no waiting at all: shortly after we'd hailed Barillas to request a pilot, the pilot miraculously appeared - having just finished guiding a departing sailboat out from Barillas, as we approached to enter. Awesomely sweet timing.
The bar at Bahia de Jiquilisco is about 2-3 miles long, but boats are guided around one end of it instead of straight over it. Thus the water is deeper and entering the channel is easier and safer - although a bit rolly because boats must travel beam-to the incoming surf for about 2 miles. We and our good buddies on s/v Curare, who'd crossed the T'pec during the same time we had and appeared at the entrance bar about the same time as we had, both entered the estuary without incident and followed the pilot's panga 10 miles up the estuary to the mooring field of Marina Barillas. About 5 minutes after we tied up to a mooring ball, the pilot returned with 7 officials (port captain, Customs, Immigration, marina manager, and harbor police) to check us in to El Salvador. A brief inspection of the boat, shuffling of paper, and a quick trip onshore for Immigration to stamp the passports and shuffle a bit more paper...and it was done. Very simple, very easy, and only US $20 to enter the country. Bonus: marina manager Heriberto Pineda even took time to teach us the meaning of all the symbols on El Salvador's beautiful flag. What a nice welcome to the country!
Total time from Huatulco, Mexico to Marina Barillas, Bahia de Jiquilisco, El Salvador: 111.25 hrs., over a period of 4 days, 5 nights plus one morning, Total miles: 612.
We moved southeastward fairly quickly along the Mexico mainland. Here's what happened during the month of February.
1.Feb.-3.Feb.2010 Passage from Zihuatanejo to Puerto Escondido (15deg.51'N/097deg.04'W). Very little wind, mostly motor-sailing in S breeze of <5 knots. Water's calm, days are hot - 80s-low 90sF. Critters spotted en route include spotted dolphin, common dolphin, many olive Ridley turtles heading south, leaping manta rays (actually, smooth-tailed mobula) and one sailfish. Overnight dodged several cruise ships and freighters. Passed Acapulco at sunrise - many very large hotels and condo buildings spread out for more than 10 miles on either side of bay.
On approach to Puerto Escondido, encountered several shrimpers. Anchorage in Puerto Escondido is essentially gone. Tourist pangas are on permanent moorings out to the 70' depths. There is room in bay for only 1-2 boats to anchor in 80'-100' outside of surf line; and for 2 more boats on the seamount futher out toward mouth of bay. The Fox anchored in 42' on seamount next to s/v Sweet Dreams. Entire bay is uncomfortably rolly. Representative of port captain arrived 1/2 hour after we anchored & just before sunset to advise us to check in with port captain - and to photograph The Fox and crew. We advised the rep that we planned to depart before sunrise and would not be able to check in; this seemed acceptable to him. Once the sun set, the entire anchorage was lit with 8 large, bright vapor lights - presumably, to reduce drug trade & theft. We did as promised & left just before first light. Conclusion: Puerto Escondido may be a spot to anchor in an emergency, but it is not a preferred anchorage for the likes of us. Total miles from Zihuatanejo to Puerto Escondido = 212.
4.Feb.2010 Left Puerto Escondido in NE winds 9-12 knots, dropping to flat-calm outside of bay. Drat. Many Ridley turtles on their way south. A family of bottlenose dolphin accompanied The Fox periodically, and put on an excellent show of leaps and twists about the bow. GB caught a 42" dorado so it was sashimi & sushi of the finest kind for several meals.
Arrived midafternoon at Chachacual/La India bays, one of the several Bays of Huatulco. La India is reputed to be the most sheltered of the Bays of Huatulco, but due to the areas of protected coral the anchorage is small. Anchor bow and stern - not just to keep facing into the swell, but because La India is very popular with the local tour boats & a dozen pangas & tour boats up to 45 feet will anchor in a space normally intended for 2 40-foot sailboats. You may see 200 visitors snorkeling, swimming and playing on the beach. Yet by about 2pm the tour boats magically disappear all at once...and you are left with a private anchorage until 10 the following morning. Anchored bow & stern in 22'. Total miles = 57.
6.Feb.2010 Increasing rolliness in La India prompted our departure to Marina Chahue, Huatulco, Oaxaca. Navigated around the reefs and rocky bits, and through the narrow entrance jetty, without incident. Total miles: 6.
Got reacquainted with a few vessels in the marina who had preceded The Fox southward. Marina staff are all pleasant & helpful; the town of La Crucecita is excellent for tourism and provisioning; and the marina was a secure place to leave The Fox whilst the crew took the bus for 10 days of inand touring to Oaxaca, San Cristobal de las Casas, & the ruins of Palenque. Total time boat spent in marina: 4 weeks.
Gary here - if this pisses people off its not my wife.....
no photos necessary
We always had doubts about cruising the Mexico mainland. That’s why we stayed up in the Sea of Cortez for two years. The problem is that after a couple of winters up there you really start to tire of the northers. We would be hunkered down behind some cliff face in February, pinned down for three days., and listen on the radio about the folks down in Tenacatia, or Barra - they always sounded so contented about their 80 degree water and cabin temperature - almost smug - like they had made the right choice to come south, while we barbarians remained in the north, fighting off the wind and cold. Now I understand why the Norse Viking always came down and raided into England - it seemed like a warm little paradise compared to their frigid north The Sea of Cortez in the winter is stark and beautiful. Once you get away from La Paz and all of the very popular anchorages you can have the place almost to yourself. There may be a few boats here and there - but you are just a likely to come into an anchorage by yourself. The fishing was very good for us there. I could catch fish off of the dingy at most points, and Marianne could find lots of shells on the beach. The downside is that outside of La Paz, Loretto, or Santa Rosalia there is not a lot of human type shore activities. No restaurants, shopping, or palapa bars.
I was ready to move on, and told Marianne that more than a few times when we were trying to get out of La Paz. My nature seems to be that whey I tire of a place, I start running it down as a prelude to leaving - a bad trait. Now that I am down south in the land of milk and honey - it is a lot easier to reflect on the pros and cons of the Sea versus Mainland Mexico.
On the mainland - you are anchored out in bays that are little indents on the coastline. They have generally provided fair protection from the rolling swells. Unfortunately they are also where all of the coastwise development in Mexico has occurred. So everywhere we have been on the mainland - Puerto Vallarta, Chamalla, Tenacatita, Barra, Manzanillo are covered with big shore side developments. Towering white hotels, condos, and homes. The beaches are lined with palapa bars - grass shacks serving food and drink to the nationals and tourists who flock to the beach. Since they are bays, and protected, they have a lot of water skiers, jet skiers, and tour boats going around. The anchorages are generally fine - but have more than a few cruisers in them. Typically, there are 15-30 boats anchored out in each of them.
The water has been nice and warm - and the air temperature great - never over the low 80‘s in the cabin, and cooling off nicely in the evening.
We have snorkeled all the hot spot we could find and they seem to be devoid of any type of large fish. Lots of small fish but nothing to hunt with a spear gun. I have not had a decent bite once after fishing off of five different points. The population and fishing pressure is high down here - its mostly fished out in the close in waters. Pangas still go out to the deep for bottom fishing and migrating species - but there is nothing in close.
The difference in cruising down here is a lot like the difference between car camping and wilderness backpacking. In car camping you are in a very controlled and artificial environment - a camp space - surrounded by people making noise. You do, however, have amenities like stores, restaurants, etc around you. In wilderness backpacking you have a lot of quiet - but not much else.
If you like to car camp around 300 of your friends, enjoy the sound of boom boxes and discos going all night - and love motorized sports - the roar of water skiers, jet skis and pangas all day - then you will love the mainland. This comes with some extremely nice weather for the middle of January, and access to lots of restaurants and provisioning. Also, down here you do have to travel some distance - if night passages scare you then the mainland can be a problem.
If you like the wilderness approach - the austere sound and beauty of a rock face - and a quiet and peaceful anchorage - accompanied with 60 degree weather and 20 knots of wind - then Baja is for you.
The cruisers down here are awfully friendly though. In Baja - the place is populated by folks who have been there for 10 years - they have settled in, and can get a bit cranky and possessive about their spots - especially in La Paz and in Puerto Escondido. They don’t sail much up there - a long trip is 40 miles between anchorages. A lot of inexperienced people cruise Baja in winter - traveling the 200 miles of protected anchorages from La Paz to San Carlos does not prepare you for much.
On the mainland - everybody is just passing through - you can’t stay here year round because of the heat, humidity and hurricanes. It’s a subtle thing, but some are a bit smug about being here. I would venture to say that may of them have not spent a winter in the sea - too rough, too cold, too windy. Most will venture up into the sea about March and April when things settle down. They would do well to spend winter up there - it would provide a good contrast the Mayberry that is Tenacatita.
I miss the sea - but am enjoying being anchored out in Santiago Bay in the fine weather, waiting for our next 180 mile jump to Zihuatanejo. It’s a different experience, and one that is worthwhile if you are headed down this way.
I wrote this a ways back - we are now in El Salvador heading south….
When last we left the intrepid Gallant Fox she was anchored in the Tamarindo anchorage near Tenacatita, at 19deg.16'N/104deg.48'W. And it was January 11.
Hey, how are y'all?? It's been a while.
To catch up now to the present day, here are some sailing logs of the anchorages and passages we now have under our keel.
12.Jan.2010 Calm seas, variable breezes <5 knots from Tamarindo to Bahia de Navidad. Destination: the lagoon at Barra de Navidad. Time of arrival on a spring tide was not conducive to entering the narrow and shallow Barra Lagoon, so we anchored The Fox, bow & stern, in 22' off the nearby town of Melaque. Meanwhile, double-checked the waypoints for entering and negotiating Barra Lagoon. Total miles = 13.5.
13.Jan.2010 Entered Barra de Navidad just after the morning's high tide. Waypoints in to Lagoon are accurate but none must be missed or a boat will run aground amongst the fishing pangas & wading fishermen on either side of the narrow entrance channel. Thanks for publicizing those waypoints, s/v Raptor Dance! Anchored in Lagoon without incident in 11' (19deg.11'N/104deg.40'W), amongst 20 other boats - roughly 1/2 of what the Lagoon can hold. Recognized many boats, including s/v Curare and s/v Jake, nearby. Total miles = 3.5. Exploration by dinghy ensued.
14.Jan. - 18.Jan.2010 Layover in Barra Lagoon. Nice & easy place to provision: fuel dock; fresh water that can be delivered via panga to boats at anchor. Nearby Melaque is even better for grocery provisioning via bus, than Barra. A fair number of shore birds make exploration onshore and by dinghy worthwhile. Many local fishermen working the Lagoon sunrise to sunset with pangas and nets searching for fish; or they wade and dive for oysters in 6'-7' depths. Makes one have second thoughts about ordering the fresh seafood cocktail in the local restaurants; yet the local restaurants are good - especially Fortino's in Colimilla on the Lagoon's south shore/ Fortino's also offers free WiFi with purchase of meal, and arranges filling of propane tanks for their customers. Muchos pesos gladly spent at Fortino's. Outboard repair shop noted along shoreline. Pangas used as water taxis to boats at anchor and in Grand Bay Marina. The French Baker's panga delivers fresh pastries each morning to the fleet - more pesos gladly spent.
18.Jan.2010 Departed Barra Lagoon in variable breezes 7 knots and less. Arrived at Ensenada Carrizal (19deg.06'N/104deg.26'W) at entrance to Manzanillo Bay, anchored bow & stern. Fetch too strong for comfort, stern anchor did not set well, and weather forecast suggeseted higher winds and swell soon coming, so moved further in to Santiago Bay (19deg.06'N/104deg.24'W). Anchored (bow anchor only) without incident in 29' in west end of Santiago Bay near cliffs on point. Total miles = 27.25.
19.Jan. - 24.Jan 2010 Layover in Santiago Bay due to forecasts of strong storms offshore creating potential winds and high swells onshore. Cliffside anchorage is well protected with only intermittent, relatively mild rolliness. Snorkeled sunken wreck toward middle of bay & area along the western cliff faces - saw the usual 16 species of fish but the wreck & coral heads made the snorkeling special. Morning air is fresh and sweet - possibly mangrove leaves? But Manzanillo smokestacks puff away all day and when the breeze shifts the air in anchorage gets hazy. Dinghied into inner lagoon on rising tide for 1-2 hrs. exploring. Did some provisioning and a few boat projects. Laid over one extra day due to MS getting a 24-hr. stomach bug. In summary, Santiago Bay is a good place to stay, whatever your reasons.
24.Jan-25.Jan.2010 Passage from Santiago Bay to Zihuatanejo. Breezes of 10-20 knots from SW, then ENE, then SE all alternated with periods of calms. So, The Fox alternately sailed and motor-sailed. Entered bay of Zihuatanejo in late afternoon with SE winds 12-19 knots, strong currents and a 3'-4' chop. Anchored without incident on SE side of Zihuatanejo Bay at Playa Ropa, in 25' of very low-visibility water - 17deg.38'N/101deg.33'W. S/v Mandan nearby, whom we haven't seen since Playa Santispac in the Sea of Cortez. Total miles = 200.
26.Jan.-31.Jan.2010 Layover in Zihuatanejo. Spent good times with old friends & met new ones. Town is good for all provisioning & souvenir needs. Cruise ships come & go from bay. About 8 boats stay at anchor off busy Playa Ropa where parasailling and jet skis rule; roughly 20 more boats are anchored in municipal anchorage near town's sewage discharge. Municipal anchorage reeks heavily in hot sun, reducing the advantage of being anchored close to town. Water is opaque in both anchorages and swimming/cleaning hulls is suboptimal - though people do it. Anchorage remains rolly depending on strength of offshore weather patterns; most boats use bow & stern anchors. The local "cruising" community is almost exclusively land-based, so the morning cruisers' net on VHF is awkward (e.g., only land-based weather information is given, & half the time there is no tide report as the volunteers seem unaware of any tide info other than what they retrieve in person from port captain). In sum, Zihuatanejo is a bit anticlimactic for us.
Favorite anchorages in this section of Mexico mainland: Barra Lagoon and Santiago Bay. But if conditions are calm, there are many more anchorages to explore than we had the chance to visit. See them all if you can!
When we were busy sailing around Puget Sound in 1999 to 2006 - I always dreamed about being down in the warm waters of Mexico. I thought that by the time I got there, I would be a pretty good sailor. Surely going through the Broughtons, Desolation Sound, around Cape Scott, and down the west side of Vancouver Island would improve my sail handling skills, navigation abilities, and confidence. Washington, Oregon and CA are long, with tricky currents and winds. Cape Mendocino is the most dangerous point on the coast.
When I finally got to Mexico I would be a real sailor.
Instead, what I have found out is that the more you sail - the more paranoid you become. Any gust of wind, wash of waves or errant weather report sends you scurrying for cover. We pray to the gods, - all of them - Norse, Roman, and Greek - making offerings before every overnight passage. We visit catholic churches and always put ten pesos in the collection jar. I check the oil before every start, never leave on a Friday, and prowl the deck for loose lines, rigging, snaps, or anything else lying around that could lead to a disaster. I drink heavily.
We are no Pardees, Hissocks, Evans or Beth, or Rich and Sheri Crowe - or anything like all of the sailors so vigorously posting on CSBB or other cruising forums - these folks set out on thousand mile voyages at the drop of a hat, in the off season and the worst weather. Largely, the experience these folks have is nothing like our own - even though I have traveled 15,000 miles over the past three years - 3,000 of that was bashing busted boats back up the outside of the Baja for pay - I remain childlike and innocent in regards to sailing.
We have finally come to our senses and realized that we are coastal sailors. Like Jason and the Argonauts - we fear the offshore and unknown - there be monsters out there.
Our recent passage is a good case in point. We were in La Paz for three weeks getting our immigration status squared away, some sails repaired, getting an infected tooth I had cleaned up, getting coast guard certification faxed in, and resupplying. This took three weeks - they never tell you this in the books - its all about sail handing, boat preparation, offshore safely - etc - show me the outfitting guide that recommends a photocopier and scanner on board and I will eat it.
We sailed down Ceralvo Channel south of La Paz with about 15 - 25 knots behind us and finally got the sailomat self steering to work. I had installed the control lines backwards a year ago and finally figured it out. We left Muertos the next day for a 350 mile trip downwind to Puerto Vallarta. We had about 20 - 25 knots behind us - sailing at about a 90-110 degree wind angle. We also had some pretty big seas - for us that is - 6 to 8 foot rollers about 6-10 second apart. Some breaking a bit. They tended to pick the boat up on the top of them - we would then slid off to the side. The sailomat performed well in these conditions, catching the boat before it would broach off the waves and getting us back on course. This kept up for about 18 hours through the night. By morning it was flat calm and we were motoring.
Yipes - those are pretty good sized waves behind us
Late in the second day the wind picked up and continued to build. It also moved a bit out of the east as we approached the mainland. We were trying to sail a 60 degree wind angle, but were closer to 45 or 50.
By midnight it was starting to rain and we sailed into a low pressure system. Then it really started to pour. We dug into the storage and found the Malo cockpit cover and side panels and reinstalled them - they had nt been on for two years. This was in the pitch of night, rain poring in, sailing with wind in the low 20’s. We had disconnected the salomat because of the changing wind patters rotating about 30 degrees or so. But we still had a double reef in the main and 80 percent of the working jib out - we were doing 6 knots, but I had slowed us down from the 7.5 we had been doing during the early evening. It was cold and wet.
The wind kept pushing us closer to Tres Marias - the Mexican prison island. This three island group forms a 30 mile corridor with the mainland you need to sail through. You cannot approach within 20 miles of this group, but the wind kept driving us there. I did not want to harden up and sail a 45 degree angle - so kept easing us off to 50 - 55 degrees. We had some pretty rolling conditions. Finally, I got Marianne up and we decided to jibe - opps - , wrong decision on my part, we were now sailing away from the direction we wanted to go. In the meantime, the wind had dropped to a 15 knots and was right on the nose. We turned the engine on and motored throughout the night.
We also motored through the next day. The wind dropped and died away. When it came back that afternoon it was right on the nose - we had about 20 miles to go - glad we rebuilt that engine.
We made a nightime approach into Puerto Vallarta - we had to use the radar since the charts aren’t accurate. We had a full moon and lots of lights. Nighttime approached are scary at the best of times. We made our way into the anchorage right outside of Punta Mita, It was about 10 at night. I went to turn off the engine and nothing happened - it just kept running - opps.
I had suspected that we may have some kind of trouble - the instrument lights would not come on, and none of that gauges were functional. It was like the panel was shorted out. I opened up the engine compartment and tried covering the air intake - I read somewhat that the diesel would stop without air. Well - that would not work. Finally, I shut off the fuel, drained the primary filter, and let the engine die. This took two hours. A tough end to a tough trip.
The next day I figured out that I needed to open both battery switches to keep the starter battery charged while driving. The battery was dead - thereby no power to the panel to shut the engine off. I had relied on a fancy battery connector called the Eliminator to do this for me for seven years - but it had died that summer. A bit of breakdown in operating procedures. While there I installed a switching solenoid that opened and connect both banks when the engine was operating, fixing this problem.
So - the point to this post is that sailing a boat across 350 miles of open water can be a bit tough. it’s a short trip by any voyaging mariner’s standards - but long for us. Even after 15,000 miles you have to take each passage separately - you never know what hand the fates will deal you. We went from 25 knots plus to calm to rain to 25 knots plus - enough action to keep anybody on their toes. We were lucky we prayed to the gods for this one - even gave them the last of our Christmas See’s candy. Who knows what might have happened it we had not taken this common sense precaution - one that you will not ready about in the outfitting guides.
On second thought - perhaps I am not such a bad sailor after all….