Not the greatest trip north

Leaving Tenacatita Bay for the slog north.  As we are going to sell the boat, this is a good memory of a magic place.  The water was clear and warm, lots of good friends here, and dolphins come to visit.  Good Dog Beach taught Cooper to swim and us about beach landings with the dinghy wheels.  We were greeted by SnapDragon -  Russ came up to the boat and surprised us.  Raymond had run out of water, cigarettes and beer - we know what he considered important.  Ahhh.  We will miss this place and remember it when in awful traffic and dealing with tension of life in the US.

 

 

Back in our slip in Nuevo, tired and happy.   The dogs had their bunk in the main salon fixed so that they would be protected:  pillows all around.  I slept with them for a bit and then Alan and I relieved Robert while we were off Cabo Corriented.  Robert said that at one point he was making two knots north, but when we turned towards the Bay, we managed four plus.
Both Alan and I felt we were seeing things( hoping to, really) as it was to be another six hours to get to our slip.  Cold fifteen knots blew out of the Bay up until 100 knots off the breakwater.  Then Robert rebuilt the head.  Three bad things happened in the last 24 hours, perhaps to balance the benificence of Barra/Tenacatita:  the head crapped out (no pun intended), the safety rail (freshly redone) broke, and the freezer gave up the ghost.

Home are the sailors or home at Tacos Muelle.  Hooray.  Too tired to deal withe cooking all the food in the freezer, and celebrating that the head is working again.  Robert is a miracle worker.

More Barra.....

Color is everywhere and when you add in the myriad colors of the ocean, the clouds and the people, it is exhilirating.

The rugs are woven in Oaxaca and seem to be everywhere.  We even own a few, but the rugs collect dog hair and in our house, they are out of sight.  We enjoy them in the markets.  What seems very much capitalism is the influx of fabrics from Bali, India and such. 

The dome is ubiquitous - and seems to be more  Arab than Spanish.  Moorish influence?  The plants are very much the same as Hawaii and often make me homesick.

The secret pool at the top of the Isla Grande Hotel.  The governor's suite is behind us.  The lower pools are full of crazy gringos, brains melted in the heat and fried by the potent margaritas.  We go here to get cool and find the hidden towels and dream of the governor's visit.  Nah.  We head back to our hot boats and swish off with the hose.

Beautiful Barra

Years ago we wandered into Barra on Molly J and Robert drove the van down.  We asked what the cost of the marina was for Molly J and turned away in disgust as it was $180/night.  The world has turned, Isla Marina now does deals - as we were part of the Baja ralley we are here at .60/ft/night.  And it is magic.  The hotel above the marina climbs a steep hill and three pools with slides climb right alongside.  The hotel is full of tour groups that seem to be yacht and country club escapees who  don't realize the effects of sun and margaritas.  What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico?

The giant yachts have food delivered in rolling carts and we see the uniformed crews polishing, rubbing, swabbing most of the day.  On I'O, we leave for one of the four pools.  I'O is in front of the the black and white yacht in the far right corner:  dog hair, sand, and such......but we are having fun.

Barra shares the bay with Melaque, (not shown)..  Both towns suffered great losses in last year's hurricane and giant chunks of buildings litter the beach front.  The town has several canals that we explored by dink, with many for sale signs  on the houses with fun and strange architecture.,.  We feel lucky not to be in the Lagoon, as we know those twelve boats out there are fighting the Noseeums like mad. As is, we throw a camp net over the hatch and hang out below with our noxious bug spray. 

A glorious tree.

Typical house on one of the canals.  The sailboat had to back down the canal to get to it's berth.

A water taxi takes  usfrom the elegant marina to the town - this is from inside the lagoon.



Why not have a lavendar door, turquoise wall?  The fishing fleet is made up of pangas who line one of the canals.  There was a festival this past weekend and it looked more like a riot on the beachfront, and with dueling musicians, the noise came across the channel to us like jungle drums.

 

Tenacatita dreaming.....

Almost as soon as we had the anchor down, a very intense,man rowed over and said that it had bounced several times and we were not holding. His boat was parallel to us and probably thought we should get the hell away from him.  We reset the anchor and swung in tandem with him, smiling every time we were close.  Then a heavily bearded, sort of officious man came by to tell us the "rules" of Tenacatita.  Pick up your dinghy and motor as "we do not want to be know as the Bay where dinghys are stolen." Too late, buddy - but we normally put away the dinks anyway.  Social hour was after a loooooooong swim to the beach, where bocce ball is played.  Um. No.  We napped.  It had been an overnight  through flat calm weather and water to get here.  The water is blissfully clear and warm, and the dolphins visit.  We later reanchored two more times, finding out that a Fortress anchor will skip on a hard sand bottom.  Me, too.

The lagoon we motored up three years ago is silting in and the panga drivers have to pull the tourists through the waves like Huphrey Bogart and then they rip upstream.  Upstream has grown in so that any damn tourists who try to cut throught the mangroves get the bum's rush at the new resort.   Evidently about four years ago, the small village was cleared out by the new owners who plan a destination resort.  What with the magicapeace of the inner bay, we don't bother with trying to find paradise.  The channel is good for kayak muscles at low tide, though.

Looking towards the beach, and what the cruisers call Good Dog beach....we have another less elegant  name for it.  Robert said there was a monkey on the beach.  Right.  I never saw it.  At least 25 boats were anchored in the Bay and a lot of socializing goes on at the palapa.  We found out the least attractive part of this heavenly place notwithstanding the bossy types who were telling us how to be here, and that is the noseeums attack at sunset.  Can't sit out and ooh and ahhh for fear of the measle look and the bugs seem to like the Off spray.

We trained the dogs to  leap into the dink for trips to their potty place.  Getting back on the boat is easy for Cooper, but Koa has to have help, to go along with his sad sack whimpers.  Then he takes a bit eout of Cooper as if to tell him to quit showing off.

Molly J at anchor in Tenacatita.  We took the dinks to La Manzanilla for some fresh fruit and veggies - and breakfast with the haoles.  Great food and fresh berries at the market.  Now, what is happening to Mexico?  A few years ago we found that the Kitsap Peninsula, (Bremerton north) for pete's sake, had gone yuppified.  Now we buy berries that have prob ably been shipped in from New Zealand to here.   Want to bet that not a complaint is heard in town?

Up the river without.........

Pedro and Rosa came by to ake us up the River Ameca at the end of our beach.  Three years ago when we arrived, the river had flooded and wiped out one of the bridges upstream between us and Puerto Vallarta.  Within five months, it had been rebuilt - compared to 30 years it took Hawaii to build H-3 to cross Oahu.  Pedro used to be a tour captain, and when I mentioned some fear about the huge waves in the bay, and suggested that if they were breaking at the river mouth, that we return home.  Rosa was looking nervous also.  Pedro smiled, and stated that he was the captain, and in other words shut the hell up.  He took us through some heart stopping waves (that is a litttle engine) and found the flat spot at the river mouth and we were through.

The river is magic:  full of huge white and blue herons/egrets.  Not so magic were the crocodiles.  When we got close to the bridge upstream, Pedro calmly pointed out one huge, malevolet croc too close to us on the bank.  We stared at each other and he slipped into the river while we tried to calmn our hearts.  The reason the birds fish from the trees is explained.  We did see some some smaller crocks who were just as afraid of us.  We ran aground upstream and didn't want to get in the river to turn us around to head back.  Pedro, still calm, lifted the engine and moved us slowly through what we are think is dangerous waters and we slipped off.  And breathed again.

 

Robert either describing the size of a fish or saying the new word we taugh Pedro and Rosa:  "whatever".  They think it is hilarious.