Checked out with the Capitania de Puerto at 9, started out motoring in calm weather. Cabo Corrientes (Cape Currents) can apparently be challenging, especially in the afternoon when the wind comes up, when we’ll be there. So will give it some room. Don’t quite know why i’m leaving Banderas Bay so soon. Could spend a few more days here. But bussing into town one day was enuf for me. In no hurry but am on my way. At noon, hoist main, unroll genoa, great close reach at 7.4 knots. Rounded the cape at 2:15. No problem. The water has turned a brownish green, not at all the deep blue we’re used to. And the backs of the porpoise are freckled in white? Seeing a few flying fish. Sailing past sea turtles! Indicators of new territory, as we go south. But the water and air temps have dropped back into the 70s.
I decide to avoid as much overnight sailing as i can. For now, that means anchoring in tiny Ipala. Very cute. The pangas on moorings take up a lot of the anchorage. And there’s another yacht that i don’t want to crowd. The swells are keeping it rolling. There’s a cantina ashore but the surf looks intimidating and i decide to not kayak in or else to wait until morning’s calm. Glad i like my own cooking. Not real comfy here but probably safer than sailing all night. Anchoring in Mexico is very different than in the San Juan Islands. It is more exposed and often within earshot of crashing surf. Don’t know that i’ll ever get used to that, or sleep too soundly. Up four or five times in the night to check.
The next day’s weather was equally cooperative and much appreciated. The night’s anchorage in Chamela was much better. Paddled around in the kayak. It was more sheltered from the swell and wind, the surf was not so close by, and there was plenty of room to swing around on the end of the rode (nautical talk for anchor line and/or chain).
The guidebook made the next bay south sound appealing. It’s a little place called Careyes. I’m curious if Rick Steves or Lonely Planet or anyone recommends it. The setting is quite fantastic. Really, it seemed like a fantasy. Crowded with layers upon layers of very brightly painted adobe buildings perched on the steep hills that lead down to the bay. Some of the architecture quite fanciful. It felt like a colorful amphitheater and Akimbo and i were on stage. There is a hotel spread at its beach. Bobbing at their moorings were several private pangas. The bay enjoys some protection from a small island to seaward. I wanted to stay, but the weather was comin’ in around the island, and the pangas were taking up most of the anchorage. If Ipala was marginal shelter, Careyes was going to be even less so. After motoring around, trying to convince myself we could stay, i gave up, unrolled the genoa and sailed out. I’m sorry now that i didn’t at least take a photo (i think i've ruined my camera tho). I’d like to come back some day, even if it’s by shore.
On our way back out into the open, we sailed past what looked like a huge bowl on the coast. I’m guessing it’s a satellite dish for some sort of astronomy. Don’t know. It looked very unnatural, of course. Speaking of the incongruous, what is the most incongruous thing i’ve seen on this trip so far? In a small dusty, Mexican desert town, in the back of a pickup truck: a lawn mower. The nearest blade of grass had to be hundreds of miles away. I had to look twice. As long as i’m on to trivial notes to myself? I think the hardest working musicians are tuba players in Mexican bands. It’s been fun listening to their riffs.
So we carried on to Tenacatita Bay. Whenever i’ve asked people where to go on this coast, this bay is the first place they name. It’s big enuf to offer a diverse and contoured shoreline to explore (but frankly, it can’t compete with the Sea of C). For the second time my electronic charts seem a bit off. Last time they showed an island in front of Los Gatos that didn’t exist. This time they show Akimbo anchored a half mile on shore, high and dry. This discrepancy is not comforting.
I paddled into shore and went for a walk on the beach. There’s a campground at one end, a hotel at the other a mile away. For the first time since i’ve been in Mexico, not one of the vehicles parked by the beach had license plates from the U.S. That night, from the hotel, booming over the water came “Buenos noches Mexico!” in an entertainer’s best imitation of Robin Williams’ “Good morning Viet Nam.” For the next two hours we had disco on deck if we wanted it or not, so had to boogie a little. Afterwards, the night’s peace was a sharp and welcome contrast. The village at the opposite corner of the bay (about 3 miles away), Manzanilla, i liked better.
I’m thinking i could have made it to Acapulco before flying out. Or at least to Ixtapa where there is another good marina. In fact, i still could make that by the 15th. To be a little less late on the season’s weather. But my reservartions are from Manzanillo, and Barra is a good marina right next door. Maybe i can bump up my reservation, or i can slow myself down and trust that in two months we’ll arrive safely in Costa Rica.
5/8/10
Okay, we’ve ARRIVED! You should see this place. (Google Barra Navidad, Grand Bay Hotel) It is posh (know the origin of that term?). I may actually have to go lay by the pool? Or at least swim in it. The tennis courts are right behind our slip. As a moorage customer i get access to the rest of the hotel facilities. Including hot tub. And me, no i won't be using the gym. Luckily there’s a water taxi over to the nearby town of Barra Navidad (“real” Mexico). Listen to me. I sound like some sort of snob? I’m simply not used to this much luxury. But that doesn’t mean i can’t try it and like it. Still, i wonder. At how glad i was to weigh anchor and sail. Yesterday i lingered over the short sail here as much as i could. Past LOTS of jelly fish (the stinging kind). Even willing to sail below the “sanity barrier.” Get away from shore, and people, and… Again that feeling that something is changing in me out here. Whatever it is, i can’t direct it. It’s not coherent. Yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment