Well we have been home in Nanamio BC now for a couple of weeks. The weather is cool, 10C or so and bit of a shock but nice for a change after spending 5 months in +30C weather. The trees on our property in Cedar are blooming and the grass has already had to be cut. Spring is here in the Pacific Northwest. Aside from doing my taxes and mowing lawns and making the rounds to see all of our kids, grand kids and siblings,we haven’t been doing much out of the ordinary. Its sunny today, +14C  so Ive started to paint our deck. Feels good to be home but I miss our adventurous travel. I miss Maiatla!

Well just when I was starting to feel a bit blue, an old friend, Emily, formally of Mystery Tramp fame post a long lost Cruising World article from 2002 that a free lance writer from San Fransisco had written about all of us. To say it brought back some memories would be an understatement. Ive included the article here.  Hope you enjoy it as much as we had.

Well our trip is all but over for this season. Maiatla is bedded down for the summer in Marina Chiapas, about 14 miles from the Guatemalan border. We are sad to leave our girl but she is in god hands as the marina staff will be looking after her. So its back to Vancouver island, home and to see the family. That part we are looking forward too, but not the cold. Although it will be nice to get a break from the 35C weather we have been having for the past 5 months.

Friday, March 14, 2014

Well, after spending almost five months sailing down the coast from Mazatlán Mexico to Guatemala, Jan and I are preparing to leave Maiatla for the summer here in Chiapas Mexico. The last two weeks we have been cleaning and spraying every nook and cranny with mildew stat to prevent the growth of mold in our absence.  Sails have been removed and any loose items removed from the deck in the event that a hurricane just happens to pass by here during storm season. To celebrate our last couple of nights Mexico, we took the dinghy across the harbor to Puerto Madero to find a palapa for dinner and drinks.

Puerto Madero is an old fishing port that has seen a better day. Most of the streets are dirt lined on either side with decaying buildings of concrete and correlated metal construction. Despite the abject poverty the people were friendly while appearing to be genuinely happy to see us there. After landing on the volcanic, black sand beach we took a tuktuk to El Centro to have a look around. A Tuktuk is a three wheel motor bike the locals use as taxis. They are cheap and a great way to go site seeing. Check out more pics on our blog.

As it was Jan and I walked till almost dark before taking another Tuktuk ride back to the beach where we had left the dinghy. We sped back across the harbor in the dark back up into the estuary where the marina is located. The Marina restaurant is called BAOS  where we got a hamburger and fries with a side order of garlic prawns for dinner. As we dinned legions of geckos hunted bugs in the rafters above and on the pillars that held up the thatched roof. We also spotted large bullfrogs leaping across the lawn. It was a great day and we will be sorry to leave this place. In a couple of days.

Maiatla all battened down for hurricane season in marina Chiapas

a casino on the beach

Building of a breakwater to protect the beach from erosion.

out houses in the grave yard.

more graves

graveyard in town

a prosperous shop owner

Nice family who waved to us.

A shop owners pet monkey

local dog

corner store

Jan found me a tecate beer

Vintage bug in a back alley.

Motorcycle repair shop

Downtown Madero

one of the nicer homes in Madero

A selfy in the Tuktuk

Another Manual Tuktuk

A manual Tuktuk

Tuktuk drag racing

Madero lighthouse

Our Tuktuk ride and driver

On the streets of Madero

our beach landing at Madero

Empty beach palapa behind jan

passing the tuna fleet on our dinghy ride to Madero

Shrimper fleet in Madero

Jan riding shortgun in the dink as we cross the harbour

Thursday, March 06, 2014

Jan and I spent the day on a Mexican collectivo bus taking our laundry into Tapachula. A 30 kilometer ride  in 90 degree heat to drop it off at the Laundromat in a 9 passenger Van with 16 people jammed inside. At least there wasn’t anyone hanging on the outside or on the roof as in Guatemala. Tomorrow we get to do it all over again to collect our hopefully clean laundry. The highlight of the day came when we got back to the boat to find that a bird had built a nest near the top of our mast. 

In the morning I will have to go up and evict him…or them! Think we have been sitting still to long! Think I need a rum!

Monday, March 03, 2014

Guatemala shares the border with Mexico and being so close we decided to make a road trip into the hinterland of Mexico’s much poorer southern neighbor. Since we heard navigating the border could be a bit of a challenge we hired a local Mexican guide (  Macaw Tours of Tapachula) who brought along two Guatemalan drivers who arrived at the marina to pick us up in a brand new, air conditioned van. A plus as our day time temperatures were always in the low 30s with enough humidity to forever purge the wrinkles out of the clothes that you were wearing.

Twenty minutes after leaving the marina the two lane, Pan-American highway narrowed as it squeezed between a pair of chain link fences topped off with razor wire and to the left, the ubiquitous Mexican army dressed in their very hot looking “Jungle fighting garb as they stood stone face while clutching their well-worn automatic weapons. 

Other armed guards had placed cones across the road forcing us to a stop. Our guide hustled us, Jan and I along with two other cruisers who perhaps foolhardily decided to come along on this venture, out of the van and escorted us to the Mexican customs office. We needed to clear out of Mexico for which they charges us 700 pesos for their trouble. 

10 minutes later were out of Mexico and walking across the bridge that spans a boulder strewn river that is the border in this corner of the state. As I peeked through the fence I could see several people wading across the river from Guatemala to Mexico. When I asked Arturo, our guide about them he informed me that they were “wetbacks” running the border as they have no papers. I was surprised that they would attempt such a thing in plain view of the border guards and again Arturo said that they are so many people running the board that the guards don’t bother chasing them anymore. As if to demonstrate the casual nature of this process, I watched as one of the wetbacks, once reaching the Mexican side, took the time to take a bath. Perhaps a prudent thing to do as he had most of his clothes off anyway. 

A little further up the river there was a long rope that stretch from Guatemala to the Mexican shore and attached to it was a small barge made of old oil drums with decking and apparently, for a fee, the more affluent “wetbacks” could pay to be hauled across the river without getting their feet wet. 

As we moved along the barbed wire corridor, we were accosted by dozens of individuals speaking in rapid fire Spanish. Arturo explained that they were currency traders who wanted to exchange our Mexican Pesos or US dollars for Guatemalan Quetzales, a requirement if we wanted to purchase anything in the county. The small seething mob was very aggressive as they vied for our business.  The whole thing reminded me of the scene of frantic “Wall Street Traders” scrabbling to buy or sell the world, but of course in a much less formal environment. Jan and I were glad to be separated from them by the sturdy fence. After a quick negotiation, wads of bills were passed through the chain link as we converted $30 US into the local currency. We now had beer money. 

Leaving the currency traders behind, we pushed our way through the crowd of locals coming and going as we made our way to the Guatemalan immigration office. We paid a small fee based upon how far we were going to travel into the county. Arturo told them that we were only going to the next town so our fee was about $2 for both Jan and I.  With our passports sporting yet another counties stamp of approval, we passed by more armed guards, this time Guatemalan, and were finally permitted to leave the secure area and enter what looked like a narrow public market teaming with peoples selling everything from cocoanuts to dresses. 

But we didn’t have time to look about as our van and drivers were waiting for us on the opposite side of the street and as it was already almost 5 pm, we needed to hurry if we wanted to get to our hotel before dark. Our first trip to Guatemala was going to be a short one. We had only planned on staying only one night. Arturo had arranged a little excursion for us.

A two hour drive through the countryside to a small but relatively prosperous town of San Marcos where a Guatemalan dinner awaited for us . Then a trip around town to visit El Centro, some government buildings then the local market. After which we decided that a beer was in order so with Arturo keeping a close eye on us we did a mini “Pub Crawl”. Then to our hotel for the night. Our second day would take us back into the hills for a little bird watching before returning to Mexico. 

 On our way to San Marcos, we would carry on down the Pan-American Highway, a misleading name as it seemed to wind around every well beaten goat trail and village with “ Los Topes” (speed bumps) that would threaten to rip the chassis off of the van or kidney punch you if you were traveling little too fast. 

The small villages were sad looking to say the least. Many of the homes were nothing more than a concrete block shells with clay tile or corrugated metal roofs and ratty old curtains for doors. Some of the nicer homes had plumbing which consisted of a black water tank mounted on the roofs or up a small tower with an outhouse nearby. We saw children being bathed in a bucket in the middle of the backyard and open sewers leading from homes to the ditch alongside the roads. 

Firewood seemed to be stacked everywhere as it was the principal source of fuel for cooking which caused a bluish haze to hover above most towns. We often saw people, old and young alike with great bundles of stick strapped to their backs as they came out of the jungle or were wandering down the roads. We also saw swayback mules and horses loaded down with firewood heading for the villages to sell the wood to those who could afford not to collect their own.

Between each village the jungle was thick, humid and reeked of fertility as the thick musty earth smell drifted out from under the jungle canopy. Not entirely unpleasant smell that would stick to your cloths. Where we crossed the border it was hot, but as we traveled east, deeper into the country we began to climb up into the mountains. It wasn’t long before the air-conditioning was shut off and jackets and pants put on as the temperature dropped to an almost pleasant, 10c.

As we drove into the town of San Marcos, there was evidence of their last severe 7.4 earthquake which occurred less than two year previous leaving 39 dead. The rubble from collapsed homes no longer blocked the narrow streets but piles of concrete debris could still be seen with many homes boarded up as they were too badly damage to live in. Even the brand new city hall was condemned after the quake. 

Dinner turned out to be a pleasant surprise as the restaurant was reminiscent of a country lodge from the Pacific Northwest with knotty wood paneling and great beams holding the ceiling up. The only difference perhaps being that the windows that lined the walls on both sided gave us a perfect view of the brick walls that lined the alley the restaurant was located in. The food was a traditional Guatemalan dish of beef, corn tortillas and black refried beans with vegetables which was quite good. The old lady who ran the place was reported to be an award winning chef who owned two other restaurants in town. The five of us dined in relative peace as the establishment had been opened strictly for us. 

After diner it was some sightseeing around town. The town is defiantly a few steps up from the country and jungle dwellers with indoor plumbing and street lighting but on steep, narrow  streets better suited for horse and cart as opposed to vans and busses. However, the motor bikes and scooters seemed to rule here. The public market was nice as it had a colonel air to it and the town square was quaint but  in needed of some dressing and litter collection and after dark, it was full of people, young and old alike, many trying to sell coconuts or roasted peanuts and cashews.  Lots of young people sitting about holding hands or recumbent, discretely hidden in the bushes doing what teenagers do. We attracted many inquisitive glances but all smiled and waved when we said “Hola!” (hi.)

We never felt threatened, even while walking through some deep dark alleys but what did make us feel just a bit uncomfortable was the presence of soldiers sporting some pretty serious weaponry.Civil war has not been long gone here. The Guatemalan Civil War ran from 1960 to 1996. It was mostly fought between the government of Guatemala and various leftist rebel groups supported chiefly by ethnic Mayan indigenous people and Ladino peasants, who together make up the rural poor. The very folk we passed by on the road coming here. 

The government forces of Guatemala had been condemned for committing genocide against the Mayan population of Guatemala during the civil war and for widespread human rights violations against civilians. Hard feelings between the two groups are still evident but thankfully a truce, albeit, and uneasy one exists. 

After the town square we wandered down the streets to find a beer. One thing that you will notice here as in much of Mexico, almost everyone sells something from their door steps whether its food , clothing or gasoline in one gallon jugs, commerce abounds which often spills out onto the street hindering traffic. 

We found a little bar owned by a friendly guy by the name of Jimmy who was happy to sell us 5 Gallo beer, the local brew. When I say little bar, I wasn’t kidding as the place only had 5 stools and when we sat down I had to be careful not to lean too far back as I was liable to be clipped by a passing motorcycle carrying Dad , Mon with baby on her back with the family laundry nestled between the handle bars. 

After a single round we were off to find the next drinking establishment and so went our night. Our hotel again proved to be a pleasant surprise as we not only had a shower in our room, but a tv with and english channel. Ah Law and order with Spanish subtitles to distract you! The room was nice, not exactly the holiday inn but comfortable. There was no need for an air-conditioner here but a heater would have been nice as we were well up into the mountains and it was still cold and the room had no heat but lots of blankets and comforters to snuggle under.  

Jan and I sleep well but we were up early, 530 a.m. to head further up into the hills for a little bird watching. We were actually looking for the very rare state bird. The Quetzal was almost wiped out as their plumage was collected to make feather headdresses. It’s now protected and making a very slow comeback. Arturo knew a couple of guides who said they could take us into the jungle where they had made nests for the birds and recently a pair had claimed one for its home. So with sleep still in our eyes at the crack of dawn we were marched down a misty jungle trail into a deep valley the bird was reported to reside. 

The trail was narrow, muddy but descent through a dense bush that was thick with giant ferns and dangling vines and the calls of exotic birds. We crossed two cascading streams and posed for pictures next to tall waterfalls that burst from the greenery above. It was great hike but what made the day was we actually got to see a matted pair of Quetzals at the nest.

When our guide pointed out the nest we saw the bird with only his head protruding from a hole in the tree. I focused my big Nikon with its telephoto lens on the tiny head and began snapping away. It was a strange looking bird with big eyes and green and red plumage, the bird didn’t look real. In fact, it looked remarkable like a stuffed parrot from Walmart and after several minutes of the bird not moving, I began to feel like we had been had. Just when I was about to tell Jan that I think the bird was a fake, it twisted its head and popped out of its hole and flew off, trailing its great tail behind.  With cameras in hand we snapped dozens of photos of the bird at it roosted nearby. 

After about an hour we left the bird and hiked back out and by 9;30 we were sitting on a ridge top with  one of Guatemala’s active volcanoes on the horizon to ogle at while having a breakfast that Arturo had driven in.After breakfast I, along with the other couple we were with, made a second descent into the valley to see if we could get some more bird pictures which we fortunately did. This time the female showed herself as well. Jan’s back was hurting so she declined to return to the valley and returned to the van for a late morning nap. 

By noon we were retracing our path though hill and dale back to the border and Mexico, but not without a stop to purchase some beer where I asked the very young and heavy armed guard if I could take his picture. He first refused waving me away. But I really wanted the shot so I gestured that he should strike a combative pose, again I again asked for permission. He seemed to soften his posture just a little.  I could sense that I was making headway so to further break the ice I turned my face so he could see my profile.   I then rubbed my face as if I were checking to see if I needed a shave while saying  “Muy guapo no?” (very handsome no?) the kid broke out in a big grin. He then let me take his picture.

Our trip back to the boarder was for the most part, uneventful except for when a local collective (buss or passenger van) decided to pass us on the windy road. There is a running joke that goes, “How many people can you get in a Mexican ( Guatamalan ) Bus????????” answer is…. One more! 

 As I watched the van overtake us on the blind corner, I could see that not only was the inside of the van filled to capacity, as indicated by the faces and chicken pressed tight to the glass, but the sliding door was wide open. This was apparently to accommodate the two people standing on the running boards who were desperately clinging to the door frame. And if I thought that their perch was precarious, the guy clinging to the ladder on the back of the van had it worse as he was being whipped from side to side as the driver, obviously wanting to save the brakes from needless wear, did little to slow down on the sharp corners.  

By evening we were happily back aboard Maiatla and thankful that we had left the air-conditioning on as we had left the cool of the mountains far behind.  

We would travel again to Guatemala but that will be for a later blog.

The hot water heater in our Guatemalan Hotel room

The street of boarder town

The rare bird makes an appearance

Street patrols

The Quetzal Bird

something under foot

The guard at our roadside beer stop

Dentist anyone?

local buses in Guatemala

a three wheel Tuck tuck taxi

Full bus, no problem!

carrying home the firewood for cooking

roadside fruit stand

Breakfast on the moutain top after a bit of bird watching

The valley of the birds

In the jungle bird hunting

Our bird guide explaining the procedures, walk quiet and shut up!

The bird lodge at the top of the moutain

a moutain house

Active volcano but no smoke this morning

our hotel bathroon

our hotel room with no heat

Worlds smallest bar!

walking the streets of San Marcos after dark

Public square, San Marcos

monument to some dead guy

On the outskirts of San Marcos upon our arrivel

at the boarde

Wetbacks forging the river

Jan watches the wetbacks cross the river into Mexico

local troops minding the peace!

more wetbacks

road leading to the boarde

line up at the boarder

Walking across the border

our first view of Guatemala at the border

more wetbacks

government buildings on the Mexican side of the border

Volcano in Guatemala

More government buildings on the Mexican side of the border

Entering the boarder on the Mexican side

February 23, 2014

Our arrival in Puerto Chiapas after crossing the dreaded Gulf of Tehuantepec was rather anti-climactic. After navigating around a couple of dense rain squalls I went to bed when Jan came topside around 7 am to relieve me from my all night watch. By 10 am I was again up as we approached the harbor. The channel was partially blocked off by a large ship that was dreading the channel on one side and a large tug boat was repositioning a green channel marker on the other. Jan guided Maiatla through the maze that was the channel as I ran dock lines and set the fenders in preparation for docking.  

Fortunately the channel was wide and well-marked as we had no trouble finding the small waterway that would lead deeper into what could best be  best described as a muddy marsh.

After passing several shrimp boats that stunk so bad that we had to hold our breaths, we turned the corner to enter what would prove to be a new and modern marina.  

The facility is less than two years old and has three sets of beautiful concrete docks with water and hydro. As we approached we could see three marina employees running down to the docks to tale our lines. The marina manager called the harbor master and the navy for us to report our arrival. Within an hour were filling out papers with the pair of officers that eagerly accept the cold coke that I offered. Jan was complaining that it was hot here. I had already decided that it was warm but when I saw these two Mexican locals sweating profusely, I decided that Jan had every right to complain. It was damned hot.

It looked like a nice place to stay for a while but there would be no swimming in the harbor as we did in Hualtuco. The nearby fish processing plant left a scum on the surface of the water and if that wasn’t enough to deter us, there were crocs. But neither of these things seemed to deter the locals from wading in, swimming or fishing. Oh well, guess we are just spoiled. We planned to stay here for a week or so with an eye for leaving Maiatla here for the summer as we were looking at returning to Canada in 3 or 4 weeks’ time. We would check out the town that was 30 kilometers away, do some shopping and perhaps make a few trips across the border into Guatemala. There were already some cruising friends here and we were looking forward to meeting new people that were like us , headings south…..or staying here for the summer.

commercial docks next to the shrippers

The stinky shrippers

The harbour fuel dock

Jan at our dock in Chiapas

The marina office and restaurant

The final waterway into the marina

The marina tennis courts

The marina docks

The office and marina travel lift for hauling out boats

Well we made it ok across the Gulf of Tehuanapec with only a soggy bunk and printer to show for it. Had a good spinnaker run up to Salinas Cruz for a few hours before the wind built to 20-30 knots just forward of the beam sometime around 10 pm. Under mizzen and reefed main we motor-sailed through the choppy seas making 6 knots while taking a lot of spray over the bow. Wind began to die after 6 hours so it was a nice sail in 10-15 knots again forward of the beam for the next 18 hours.

Then just before nightfall of our second day the wind died again so we were back to motoring while staying within a couple of miles of the beach just in case the wind roared back to life. Some time around 2 am a couple of heavy rain squalls crossed our paths, lots of rain but not much wind. Not a problem but there were a lot of shrippers and pangas out fishing and the rain was so thick at times that it blacked out much of our radar making it hard to  see the other boats.

We raised Chiapas near the Guatemalan border by day break and were at the dock of the marina by 10 a.m. 48 hours after leaving Hualtuco. Actually the trip- the 250 mile crossing went very well except for the ports we forgot to seal properly before leaving harbor. So its official we are now Tehuanapecers. Not the same as being Cape Horners but and honor all the same.

So I think we are going to hang out here for a while and do some touring into the interior of Guatemala to see some ruins and volcanoes. should be cool. well by for now Andy and Jan on Maiatla.

Well Melissa, our daughter arrived on the 31^st of February so we are back on tourist mode for two weeks. We spent the previous two weeks just gunkholing up and down a 7 mile stretch of coast, exploring bays and diving on coral reefs. Been grand and we loved the alone time with only ourselves to worry about but having Melissa here would be fun. We spent the first three days after her arrival shopping for provisions and the ladies went dress shopping in the local markets. Once we managed to get playing tourist done in town we left the marina and sailed over to the harbor of Santa Cruz where we anchored next to the cruise ship dock by a nice little reef on the east side of the harbor. The reef here is nice with lots of coral but not many fish and there was a bit of a plankton bloom happening so the visibility was a little poor. 

We took the dink to another nearby bay called Playa en Trenga where there is another nice and more extensive reef with a lot more fish. In the north east corner of the bay a spring enters the sea creating a pocket of almost perfectly clear water. This is where we managed to get some of the best of our underwater pics. There were some very aggressive little Blue damsel fish that, if you swan too close, would attack and bite after sneaking up on your blind side. Melissa had one bite the back of her arm just above the elbow. The little beggar actually drew blood. Almost two weeks later you could still see the teeth marks. 

After a couple of days in the harbor, we up anchored and hoisted sail for a little site seeing trip to the west, and back up the coast. There are 7 beautiful bays with spectacular beaches along here but unfortunately, they can be a bit rolly for sleeping so we carried on to our favorite, Bahia Chachcual. I gave a description Chachcual in a previous post entitled “ Tranquility base” so no need to repeat it here except that the little corner that we staked out for ourselves was the calmest spot along this whole coast no matter what the wind or sea direction. 

We spent several days here with Melissa just swimming, sunning and exploring the coast by dinghy. I had rented some additional diving gear from a local dive charter operator so I could get Jan and Melissa a chance to become reacquainted with scuba. Both are excellent snorkelers and certified divers but both needed a little refresher course that I gave to them in the shallows off a beach in Chachcual. 

Again the visibility was poor but I had fun taking Melissa by hand and diving the perimeter of the reef with her. I had booked a dive charter boat for later in the week for the three of us so I was hoping that the operator would be able to show us some dive sites that were better that we could see by just snorkeling. Jan would later op-out of going diving so Melissa and I went on our own. The two dives we made were fun and we saw some great rock and coral formations down around 60 feet but in truth, I thought we saw more coral and fish just snorkeling on our own. San Augustine proved to one of the best sites with the reef just off the beach where many palapas crowd the shore. Good place to have lunch afterwards. 

Melissa decided that she wanted to make a land trip to see some of the interior and perhaps some wild life so we hired a taxi for the day ($120 US) for a tour up the coast on a very dubious road through rural Mexico. So after moving the boat back to the harbor at Santa Cruz we made a road trip. 

On the morning of our road trip we awoke to find that we had a new neighbor, a cruise ship had arrived. After I cooked breakfast, we took the dink ashore, waved at the new arrivals and met our driver for the day. As we were about to see, most of the locals live very modestly in crudely constructed brick and block homes with thatched or corrugated tin roofs. And of course, most with outdoor plumbing. (translation,  out houses).  Chickens and bare footed kids abound and scratch and play in dirt yards that they often rake or broom. Our first stop was at a coastal town called Ventanilla (“Little Window”) where a two by four kilometer island sits in a mangrove lagoon. Here we would hire a guide to paddle us around the lagoon then take us to walk on the island. It is here where we saw hundreds of iguanas, some up to a meter long, perched in trees or wandering along the ground. We also saw many crocodiles along the shore, some up to 4 meters long. The little community itself is quite pretty and have done a lot to attract tourist and their beach is spectacular as it stretches unbroken for over thirty miles and due to the nature of the shore, the sea pounds the beach with great curling waves. 

Then it was off to the little coastal town of Manzunte and a makeup factory where Jan and Melissa bought some goop. The it was to a government sponsored turtle sanctuary . Then after a brief stop at Zipolite, the hippie community and the only recognized nude beach in Mexico, we were off to Puerto Angle for a late lunch then it was back to the boat. We got home just intime to see the great ship depart. But not without some concern. The ship was so huge and the engines so powerful, even when they were barley moving, they created such a suction the Maiatla was pulled towards the great propellers and if we had not had two good anchors down and holding well, I’m sure we would have collided with the stern of the ship. Once the ship had left the harbor, I was forced to rest our stern anchor as it had been dragged for some distance. After which we all had a nice moonlight swim next to the boat.

our cooks for lunch

our lunch shack on the island of the lagoon

Holding a crock skull

this is not a zoo, these are wild crocks that we got within 10 feet of.

The rock the village of Ventanilla was named after

Headed into the lagoon

Beach of Ventanilla

our lagoon guide with Jan and Melissa

village of Ventanilla

village of Ventanilla

Saturday, January 25, 2014. 

     Just a couple of miles east of Hautulco, Bahia Chachacual is perhaps a mile and a half wide crescent shaped beach with rocky promontories at each end that thrust sharply out to sea. Several tiny rock islets within the bay mark the locations of coral reefs teeming with fish. Great sea turtles can be seen lounging on the surface waiting for nightfall to come ashore to lay their eggs. 

Still further inside and at the extreme end of the bay there is a second, tiny cove of a couple hundred yards in width that is protected from the constant ocean swells by its parent cove and a coral reef that breaks the surface at low tide. If Chachacual is the mother then it is inside her womb, the seconded tiny cove that we now have Maiatla safely anchored. I had dropped our bow anchor in 20 feet of water onto a hard sand bottom, good holding for our 65 lbs CQR anchor. Then I loaded our stern anchor into the dinghy and motored it ashore to plant it in the fine beach sand just above the high tide mark near a twisted old cactus growing at the edge of the jungle.

     Back aboard Maiatla I tensioned the boat up between the pair of anchors drawing our stern in towards the shore until the bow anchor saved us from beaching ourselves.  With Maiatla’s stern only three boat length from the beach and with 10 feet of clear water beneath our keel, we would call this home for the better part of a week as we wait for Melissa, our daughter to arrive. 

Our tiny bay is an almost  perfect base from which to dive and explore the coast using our rigid inflatable dinghy. Our tiny piece of paradise owns a jungle fringed beach that is flanked by coral reefs alive with fish sporting colors that could challenge any rainbow or impressionist painter’s pallet. The inner sanctum is protected from high winds and the deep ground swell by reefs, towering cliffs and jungle canopy so the water was calm as the proverbially mill pond so sleep would come easy here. As I stare down into the waters beside the boat I can see several tiny Porcupine Puffer fish had already taken up residence in the shadow that Maiatla was casting on the rippled sand bottom. We quickly set up the great sun awnings that protect the deck from the heat of the late afternoon sun. With our shade in place we stripped off and dove in to play with the tiny yellow and black fish that seemed to be fascinated with the boats rudder and bronze propeller. 

Ah perfect right? Well not quite. As I said in the beginning, it’s almost perfect. But not perfect. So what could be wrong with the little paradise that I have just described you may well ask? It wasn’t until after watching the sun set behind the distant cliffs as I barbecued chicken on the stern that we realized the first flaw in our little piece of utopia. Mosquitoes! Ok there weren’t many and they were not like the ones we get back at home that can be detected on the airport radar like an approaching 737, but there were just enough of the little beggars to be aggravating. 

Now I’m not one to be deterred from a course of action and run and hide from a few tiny mosquitos but these are not just your run of the mill, blood sucking vampire type bugs. These little hypodermic needles with wings can carry malaria or worse, dengue fever so with all bravado aside, out came the bug spray, anti-mosquito netting, smoldering coils and citronella candles. Our first night we dinned indoors on “almost” cooked chicken. 

The second great flaw would not make itself known until late in the morning the following day. We arose about 8 a.m. and since we were entirely alone neither of us felt compelled to dress. While Jan sat in bed reading from her tablet, I prepared our ritual morning cup of tea and cooked eggs and bacon. (Frying bacon in the nude requires certain precautions). Jan dinned in bed as I retreated to the cockpit to eat and take in the spectacular view. With breakfast over, Jan did the dishes as I remained sitting in the shade of the cockpit awning and began to read my book as the first wisps of the building onshore breeze began to carry away the morning heat. 

A chapter later I dove in for a cooling swim then returned to my book and a second cup of tea that Jan had brought topside as she joined me to admire the view. Ok so far so good, right? Well it was just after 10 a.m. when I heard what I thought was distant thunder. I glanced up at a cloudless sky then towards the very distant inland mountains that were shrouded in the usual tropical blue haze, but there was no sign of a thunder storm anywhere. 

As I continued to listen the booming got louder and rhythmic in nature. It only took a few minutes for us to realized that we were about to be joined by others, not drum beating headhunting cannibals hurling spears at us from the jungle fringes, but something much worse. Jan and I were both stunned to see a great catamaran with gigantic speakers blaring a Mexican version of rap music round the distant point. The music boat’s cargo was a hundred or so holiday revelers who, apparently had already decided that it was cervasa time. Oh but wait, the cat was not alone as leading the way were three more panga fishing boats  loaded to the gunnels with all the chattels to support a first rate beach party, complete with coolers stocked with cold beers and margarita mix. 

 The Mexican pangas shot past Maiatla  to assault the beach with practiced precision.  By the time the catamaran with all its revelers had anchored just a beer bottle toss from our bow, the beach crews had all the tables and chairs planted in the sand and all in the shade of gaudy, multi-colored  beach umbrellas. 

I turned to Jan who was still sitting next to me. “So I guess I should get some shorts huh?”

Within an hour, another great cat arrived along with an assortment of sports fisherman and jet skis to share our now very tiny bay. At the peak of the day there must have been well over a couple of hundred very white bodies lying about our beach or bobbing in the water next to Maiatla with snorkeling gear on. All the action seemed to have been well choreographed to an odd assortment of Mexican and American music emanating from the cat’s great speakers. (I hate the Mexican accordion and tuba music which sounds striking like polka music with gastronomic troubles). 

It was an interesting day as we watched the antics of all the frolicking tourists, but not a day that I had left home for to come and see. The spectacle, I must admit was not entirely unexpected as a local couple, who had first told us of this place, warned us that “Some of the tour boats bring snorkelers there, but don’t worry, they won’t stay long.” 

Well true to their word, by 2 p.m. the boats began to load up and move out. Surprisingly the Mexican beach crews broke camp just as fast as they had made it, picking up garbage and raking the sand just before leaving. By 3 p.m. our bay was again blissfully deserted leaving us to wonder if we had truly seen what we had seen. It was time to strip back off and have a beer, swim and a snorkel on our private reef lying next to the boat. 

Peace and paradise had returned.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

 Hi Guys, Just cooking bacon and eggs for breakfast for Jan and I while I write this message and will try and send it via the ham radio this morning. We have been held up for the past two nights in a pretty bay called Bahia Cacaluta. Just a few miles west of Haultulco.  We are tucked in behind a big rocky island next to a sandbar that breaks the swells that wrap around the island. There was a bit of a blow out in the Gulf the past couple of days so we had big waves crashing on the beach just on the other side of the sand spit. Way cool. But despite my best effort to get out of the waves it was still a bit rolley and Jan did not sleep well. Will try and move the boat closer to shore today. Last night we had a giant sea turtle crawl out of the ocean, up the beach and dig a nest where it deposited its eggs. Unfortunately we didn’t see it but its tracks up the beach tell the tale and from the size of them she was a big one. Her tracks looked a small bulldozer plowed out of the surf and up the beach. 

Jan and I spent the evenings playing dominoes but between hands I would go outside with the spotlight to scan the beach to see if had been stormed by a heard of egg laying turtles but no such luck, I saw nothing so eventually we went to bed and I guess that is when this Tortuga made its move. Out-witted by a ninja turtle.

Well I shouldn’t say that my visits outside the boat were a waste of time as we did see something rather spectacular. As I shown the million candle power spotlight at the beach, where the light struck the water, thousands of finger size flying fish would burst out of the water and take to the air.   The dart-like fish would flap their pectoral fins and “fly a foot or two above the water for fifty feet or more. It was as if they were trained to perform as directed by my light around the boat. As fast as I could pan the light they burst from the sea in what looked to be a frenzied panic. 

Will try tonight to get some video of the fish as well as I may make a trip ashore after the moon raises after midnight to see if I can catch a turtle doing its thing on the beach. There are some nice coral formations within this bay but the water is very green and cloudy, a result of an underground river that enters the sea here, so the snorkeling is not very good.

 While diving Jan and I found where some of the fresh water enters the bay, the location given away by streams of air bubbles gurgling out from the sea bed and through fissures in the rocks.  We found what looks like a good diving spot with clear water on the other side of our island so we will try it out later when the sun is high. Well that’s about it for now, will post this on Facebook with Pics when we get back to civilization.