El Muelle Grill

We heard an "hola" and popped out from hiding from the heat to see the Baretto family out for a ride.   The panga is really too big for the little engine and all 6 1/2 kids, but they went across the bay and played on the beach at the Rio Ameca, which has crocodiles upstream.  We have been so impressed by Pedro and his family as they are usually very happy  work together wilingly, and respectful of their parents.  They talk to to their parents.  My grandkids are stuck into electronic toys and games.  What a contrast.

We look up to the cafe from our cockpit and wander up as often as possible.  Armando, in the blue shirt was in the fish and restaurant business in San Diego for 30 years and is gifted as a chef and welcomer.   Hola Amigos is shouted out at anyone walking by who has visited who has visited the cafe.    And when they leave, they are definitely amigos.Pedro and his oldest son Hosoy ( that is how it is pronounced - but means Joshua) join us after working on our boat.  The cafe was openned by a couple three years ago, with most of the cruisers falling in love with them.  Two months after we left in 2010, they divorced, and Fabian reopenned in October with Armando.  Fish and shrimp tacos are better than anything we have ever had in the the US - for $2.00.  One is filling, two are fall on the ground  stuffed.  We want to take Armando travelling with us.

 

Community with cruisers....

Tania Aibi went around the world in a Contessa 26, as are Carolyn and David.  Well, they are perhaps going south and then back to San Diego.  Tania wrote a book about her travels and is a columnist for a sailing magazine.  David is 6'-4" and we wondered how he and his wife managed on such a small boat.  The story of their trip down was of a slow passage, sometimes going backwards, and/or doing circles.  No wind, yet they only used 1/4 of a tank of gas.  We got all parental when they were leaving as the weather stunk - take a look at the sky.  But they were confident and smiling and felt that sailing slow and small is the way to go.

Community is very important to cruisers, even if we all move on so we take time to get to know each other.  Tonight this group and Robert and I are going to the village next door for what has been billed as the "best food ever".  Emily, on the right, asked if we would die the next morning.  We met Emily and Tom in San Jose Del Cabo, where they had AC on their boat and we sweltered.  Emily was in the harbormaster's office when I staggered in to ask for a slip-the heat was horrendous.  I managed to grab a slip then realized I had taken the harbormaster's attention from her to crabby me.  To make up for my poor behavior, not that it is possiuble, we invited them over to pupus and wine as we ended up side tied in front of them.  They are my new heroes.  They have done the Bash, just the two of them, and had to sail most of the trip down without their autopilot.  And they were still talking to each other.   Emily's statement of ,
"You do what you have to" hit me.  The other couple is Steve and Jonelle, who are here only in the winter season and  have a long, New Zealand boat.  They are from Colorado and do the drive down each year for the past eight years.  At a dinner party the other eve, they mentioned they were Menonnites.  Ok.  Neat people.  A true cruiser's group:  Menonnites,  Catholic and Episcopalian.

Lisa, Tim and Pat, with David behind me - another interesting story. Pat and Lisa bought the boat in Monterey Bay - a Hunter, with an aft cabin.  They lost their transmission and came into the big yacht dock here hoping they could jump off and tie up the boat.  Robert had Pedro take him to various machine shops  to find the proper leeltle thingy, a tool to retool the handle of the transmission.  Ok, I am not a mechanic.  On the radio one of tghe cruisers had it and in minutes, Robert  had repaired their transmission.  They are from Vail, Lisa from England, and seem to be very laid back people.  And their story is a week of learning to sail in the Caribbean, buying the boat and heading up to Seattle.  Ok.  We know that coast and after a week in the Carib., it is not what is normal.  Another set of heroes.  They did say it was pretty rough, but that they met some great people.  That proves that it is all about attitude for cruisers. David, behind me is a single hander who says he is from Las Vegas.  He tells of being caught in a storm, losing some vital boat part, and spending 40 hours to get to port from the middle of the Sea of Cortez.   That trip would normally take about 15 - 20 hours.   Another hero - with a cat who thinks it is a dog.  Dusty the cat eyed Cooper daily when we were alongside David's boat and Cooper pretended that there was no cat anywhere in the neighborhood. 

Rainy days and Mondays.....

as in the song "always get me down".....but not here.  Despite the talk of La Nina or El Nino - the sun always comes out.  Weather reports every morning are sort of vague, the weather changes literally in minutes - but the beach is always good for a walk.  Although the dogs embarrass us.  We have learned to take bags along for those moments. We are thinking of changing the name of the blog as neither dog likes the waves and pull us inshore as much as possible.  Koa tries to haul Cooper away from the water with snarls. 

We have been helping Juan with preparations for a marina swap meet:  abandoned boat stuff.  Most of the boats on the old dock witht he exception of the junk and the blue boat are missing owners due to fed up with sailing, age, or other problems.  Over time the marina has stripped the boats into unruly piles of stuff and Robert and I sorted it out for a sale tomorrow.  The problem according to one cruiser, is that the market for the stuff is not here as most of the cruisers are already fitted out.  But knowing cruisers, the small stuff will go.  We even found a few treasures.

The one in red has to have paid big bucks for a Mexican vacation.

 

Rain in the New Year

Even the palm trees were drooping.  When it came time for the fireworks, we walked over towards the beach in the rain, hearing the echoes of other booms from around the bay.  There were ten beautiful explosions, typical of the Monday night fireworks (yes, like clockwork) and we were too late.  At least we didn't have to worry about floating fire this year falling into the sails.

A cruiser who has been coming down for eight winters said this was the first time he had ever seen rain here during the winter.  Ten days of grey skies, firehose showers of rain, and everyone pumping out the dinks.  I made bread and felt like Seattle.

 

New Year's Day for tourists meant this - warm, wet, and they said, lots of whales.  Well, we paid for it, they said, so we went.  Doubt it was much of a booze cruise.