The Great Turtle War

This is the entrance to Nuevo Vallarta, and behind the sailboat on the right is a long, dark sand beach that is a turtle nesting site. And, behind the long beach are hotels and condos plus a fairly public beach entrance for this side of Nuevo. We had been seeing strange marks on the sand, and one morning saw two baby turtles trying to make the break for freedom. A very large lady came tearing out of one of the hotels and puffed and huffed her way to the babies and pulled them out of the surf, saying they were going to be placed somewhere safe. Ok. Then we saw a giant dead one on our morning beach walk. And yesterday, a man was digging up turtle eggs in front of the first hotel, and I tried to see if he had the same "official" shirt as the lady had, but he just kept digging and wasn't up to talking. A tourist reported another man to the police as he had been taking eggs from "our" beach. They just laughed. It seems that the turtles are protected, and there is a nursery somewhere around here, but messing with mother nature and the turtle's "return to their birthing ground" instinct is just screwed up.

Costa Rica has one beach that is so prolific in turtles/eggs/etc..that they allow one day for the locals to dig up eggs to sell to local bars or personal use for male libido. Ai yi yi. Supposedly this allows the next mother egg layers to have their eggs hatch. Again, messing with mother nature. (reported in Latitude 38). That doesn't make sense, either as the eggs are either of an endangered species or the Tico libido is declining. But it was a government decision.

Robert is at the little swap meet in the next small town to us - where we get lost every time we try to find this Tuesday market. We stock up on fresh papaya and pineapple and veggies and then find a good place for tacos to rest up from getting lost and the angst about the turtles.

Palapas can be anything

We found this Episcopal church right across from the airport, and near enough for us to get to it easily. The priest was in the Dio. of Calif, came down with his wife in a Crealock 42 6 years ago to cruise and stayed. The service is very much the traditional but Rite 2 with no interdenominational changes - hooray. And the fellow at the keyboard gets great organ sounds out of it - but he sings like a former nightclub lounge singer. Oh my. The congregation is made of winter visitors and some year round types, and the priest gets on the morning net to talk about the various events at the church. Immediately the priest's wife asked if I woudl help on Christmas Eve - I sidestepped that one, as being able to sit with

Robert has been a long time coming. We will be there on Christmas eve to sing carols and have a pupu dinner with wine.

We went out to La Cruz, a small village that has more bars and restaurants than normal little villages. We figured out that it is because of the fairly new marina: what does that say about cruisers?The fair was going on in the village square and we saw the new generation of Mexican "hippies" - or is it that creative types tend toward counterculture dressing, or undressing. Nothing really new under the sun. We bought some beautiful yellow tomatoes that disappeared off the boat. As Sherlock would say, therein lies the clue. I used to barricade the tomatoes in Fountain Hills with baling wire, chicken wire, rebar -anything to keep the unknown tomato thief from making off with those tomoatoes. We accused Fred the bull snake, sneaky javelinas, racoons, rats - but it, given the loss of the golden tomatoes, turned out to be the crime dog. Sha'ash. And his stomach was not all that happy for the crime.

Our New Home

We didn't want to tell the people over at Paradise Marina that we didn't like their fancy place: concrete all over, hot, and the shopping center full of haoles, etc. The cruisers in the marina were great - we had my birthday dinner with a couple, and two tired guys, Robert and Aaron, who had returned from Mazatlan with the van. Shrimp and Carne Asada tacos with pico de gallo and coconut ice cream. Space is what we found here in Nuevo Vallarta, a place for the dogs (horrible across the channel), shower rooms that are not too shabby, and sunsets, not a concrete wall in front of us. Nuevo has a lot of empty slips on the new dock and we can't understand why the cruisers aren't flocking to be here. Perhaps there is some deep, dark secret that will be revealed to us along the way.

Aaron, with his bags, on his way back to Az. this morning. He has a 24 hour bus ride to Nogales, and we know that when he gets there, he will know the personal history of everyone on the bus. And they would be best friends forever. We will miss him, but he says he is coming back. His Christmas will be in the foothills of California, while our's, will be at a potluck in La Cruz. Aaron could cook his way out of a dry, empty cupboard and come up with a feast. Tonight we are having Saimin, missing him. His last swim yesterday was outside the lagoon where a croc had made off with a fisherman.

Bucerias, full of tacky shops, but good lunch places. We spend a New year's here some time ago, and had two New Years as the time changes an hour right in town. You celebrate in one restaurant, head across the street and get a second new year.

The beach at La Cruz.....harbor in the background. The harbor is fairly new, but is swept with dirt all the time from the area around, and the anchor outs rock and roll to whatever the weather and ocean throw at them. The town is small, and has some restaurants/bars where the cruisers congregate - we might join them at some point but love the peace here in Nuevo. We had to find a place whre w could let the guys off the leash and found it north of La Cruz. Several years ago we rented a beautiful house in Bucerias and had to move when our week was up to a condo/house in La Cruz. We hated it and went out to Punta Mita, as Linda said we needed to find a bungalow. Chickens, drunks, broken plumbing, bare concrete...we love it as as we could kayak right there on the beach. The only problem was that the waves were notably big that year and we would get dumped when trying to kayak to shore. Robert replumbed our bungalow that year and we got a free night's stay.

And finally -where is the damn stick? All this water, and we finally get to chase a stick. Where is it? Throw another.

Sand fleas and large critters in paradise

I'o in the Chacala anchorage, calm and easy, not giving any indication of the hellish night ahead. The surf seemed to be pretty close and loud, and we waited a bit to see if the the anchor bit. It was only a four hour trip along the coast from Matenchen - long white sand beaches backed with green jungly hills. Exotic structures lined the hills perched lightly with several stories typically spreading downhill.



The dinghy landing and where the fisherment bring in their catch. The water was cold, but lovely, and we hiked across the point of land to the beach to check out what was on offer at the palapas. The "main street" behind the palapas held little shops that pretty much had the same shells and pareus - little hotels. We wondered why this beatiful little cove was not surrounded by huge hotels.
We found out, soon enough.

It is mainly sand under teh palapas and the critters in the sand feasted on us as we had a disappointing meal, but lots of limonada. A couple joined our table who were just driving up for the day and gave us the "skinny" on what was available in the various marinas. He said the main harbor was great, close to everything, but after Cabo, we didn't want to take a chance on any more lost sleep and tour boat noise.

All night, the boat swung and we rocked and rolled, despite being told by the cruising guide that it would not be anything more than a "gentle massage." The hell. We didn't get much sleep and left, along with all the other sleepless boats, for PV. We saw whales, schools of rays the size of dinner plates and at the entrance to Banderas Bay, were frightened by two huge whales rising quickly alongside the boat. One came back up to see who was screaming, but the other one decided to dive for Tahiti, as the screaming must have hurt.


We are aimed at Nuevo Vallarta, trying to find the harbor entrance here. It is always a bit tense trying to trust the GPS and after the whale excitement, all I wanted to do was get into a slip and drink something strong.

We were brought right to the entrance and scooted in to Paradise Marina. The marina lines a sea wall behind a resort, shopping center and condos. Our first night in the shopping center, after Matachen and Chacala had us considering moving as this is just middle america again.
There are still requirements to check in with the Port Captains in various ports - the paperwork was prepared by the harbor staff and we took a water taxi across to check in. The port captain's cat greeted us, named Captain, not Capitania...and immediately

decided that Robert was to be his new owner. Pets stay inside here, as the Estuary is full of crocodiles. Aaron and I kayaked around a few of the islands and were told by a very stern gentleman not to go past the bridge as the 18' footer lurks in wait for kayakers. Ok.
We plan on moving to the more open marina across the channel in the morning. There is a walkway to the beach and the dogs will finally get their wish.

Now this is more like it......

Evening in Matenchen Bay, but am going to backtrack and talk of the voyage to get there. While Mazatlan is a neat town, and the weather was perfect, the marina area felt like middle America and somehow not the Mexico we were looking for: of great beaches and quiet villages. Cabo was scary with the hustle, Mazatlan a real working city, and we were craving the non tourist experience and ready to leave. People told us that it would get better as we went south, and they were right.

Leaving Mazatlan.......

Lisa and John and a little lady waving goodbye to us as we leave Mazatlan. The little lady is in her 80s and still living on board though their boat is for sale. We were off on another overnight trip to Matenchen Bay, south of San Blas and the day went by fairly quickly, with some jib sailing, but wind mainly on the nose. That is getting to be the pattern, and scientists are calling this strange weather, La Nina. Robert likes the night watches, and Aaron seems to, also, but I got up and was more than a little uptight about the hundreds of fishing boats all over. It looks like the stars have fallen and become green, red and yellow lightning bugs on the water. Determining how fast or how slow they are moving, as we are doing up to 6knts under power is tricky.
Our dock in the marina held just about a dozen boats and we got to know each other fairly well.


We go to bed with the boat wet from a dew that seems to wring itself out of the air and find the morning dew heavy and dripping from the boom.


The dogs have learned to use the fake grass and look at us with pathetic looks when we take them to the poop deck while underway.





Right is the estuary that makes up the new harbor in Mazatlan as we are leaving.


We were there too long, but somehow manana time caught up with us.

Right is one of the shrimp boats off of Mazatlan, which is showing faintly in the distance. Imagine running through a moonless night, pitching and tossing, trying to figure out the what hundreds of little lights mean in front, to the side and all around you. Praying helps. It helps a lot.

The calmness of the water is typical - some swells when the on the nose wind comes up.

Aaron driving us out of Mazatlan - we are finally on to next step of the adventure.

Years ago, I borrowed Neale's VW and Mark and I drove from Mazatlan to spend a few months in San Blas, a small town north of PV. I remembered a small square, and three miles south, an empty beach. Mark and I had hired a panga to take us up the river to a fresh water spring, that was a more than refreshing oasis. Little did we know then that there are fresh water crocodiles in the estuary, but we loved the cool fresh water.We kept seeing something that looked like large black dolphins, arching out of the water, and blowing mist -something we don't see dolphins usually doing. Little whales.

And then there was Matenchan Bay, in the morning. I jumped right in and got right out. It was brisk and people we met later, who live south, said that the water was unusually cool this year. We proved that statement - but found a long, lovely beach all around the 5mile bay, and palapas and restaurants, on the beach I remembered as isolated and lonely. Ismael fed us twice, with giant pitchers of limoda - the best drink for hot days.

Small yellowtails surrounded our boat in the bay......we anchored quite a ways out, in 18' of water so not be eaten by the noseeums. The first night was magic, and the second, windless. They found us. We itched and scratched and decided to get out of bug land and head to Chacala.

We could have spent a week there easily...as this bay was telling us that we had really arrived in mananaland
-beautiful green mountains surrounding the bay, and a beach that went on forever. We were able to beach the dink easily but the muscle guys had to pull it way up the beach to cable it securely to a broken down restaurant. Someday we will go back, but armed with bug spray, and nets.

When Mark and I were there, the hotel would spray every night, a deadly mixture of DDT and some awful smell. While the town has grown, more cars and small hotels, and magic Matachen has developed some, the bugs have not changed. Yet there was more than enough to convice us to keep going, to find more remote beaches and bays. Our dream of so many years came true, itch and all.

Irony in the Central Market

You don't really have to go to the Central Mazatlan market to shop for anything as there are giant grocery stores here as well as Home Depot. Time to move south - but PV will be just as civilized. Mazatlan is a Mexican town, though, and delightful once we are away from the haoles at the harbor. They are all pretty nice, but we didn't come here to be with other English speaking folk, but to enjoy the culture. The above photo was taken in a small restarant above the market. The line from their propane tank stretcvhed across the door, around some funny furniture and into the cooking area. When we ordered, the young woman who took our order went down to the market and bought the ingredients we needed for our marlin tacos and gorditas. I love the irony in the photo.

Pinatas, color, fun.

Very colorful and fresh and even the meat aisles were refrigerated.

The cathedral - not very old, and not even open, and made up of several varieties of stonework.

The traffic around the market was diesel and gas fumes, and I decided to shop in the local verson of an upscale walmart called Mega. I didn't see anyone there that looked like typical walmartians, either and we met one of the first free style skiers from Canada who has retired here in Mazatlan. He seems to be able to walk ok.

The saying that boaters spend time in exotic places, fixing things is true: Robert tore apart the toilet as it was salted in and unable to function, while sitting on the dock in front of the boat. Not fun. And that is just in one year. Cruisers are told to put vinegar in the toilet periodically, to help dissolve the salt. We will, from now on be more diligent.

Weather ranged last night from 52 to 82 today and not at all like Christmas and we made carnitas for sailing food in the pressure cooker. After while, it seems that we crave the hot chiles and the local flavors, and as the capcasum (sp?) is good for the mood, we are becoming true cruisers at last. Wine in the cockpit tonight had us viewing a sunset of colors that are so vivid, that we wished we could share with northern friends. Sigh.