Sneaking In

Everyone does it at some point. Maybe you did it when you were in college.  We waited to share the moment with our children.

Wyndham Resort in background at night

 Pretty much as soon as we arrived into Barra we heard from other cruisers about how we could go to the nearby luxury Wyndham Resort, pay for lunch, and use the pool for the afternoon.  Sounded like fun!  We also heard the golf course locker room had a Jacuzzi and nice showers.  Say no more!  So one day we loaded up our backpacks with towels, hair dryers, and some reading material and dinghy-ed over to a remote dock at one end of the hotel property.  We walked about a half mile to the hotel, proceeded through the front doors as if we were staying there, and found our way down to the pool level, feeling a little out of place in our cruiser clothes but none-the-less forging onward.  We arrived poolside, found a lounge chair, and just as the kids were ready to jump into the pool a waiter came up and asked us if we were staying at the hotel.  Was it THAT obvious?  Friends told us, “No one is ever at the pool,” but we saw plenty of people and felt a bit misled.  The waiter gave us some options.

1. Pay 1100 pesos (approximately $100 USD) and get a 500 peso food credit and use of the pool for the afternoon, or…
2. Leave

 Trying to act composed and not humiliated we did a quick calculation.  We may be able to eat 500 pesos worth of food but were a few hours at the pool really worth 600 pesos?  We decided to leave.  We opted, instead, for our own “Plan B”.  It was…if we sailed our boat to the hotel marina early the next day and paid the ridiculously high 1200 peso slip fee, we could use the pool that day and for the better part of the following day before we left.  Plus, we would get an electrical hook up for the night, we could fill our water tanks, AND have access to fresh water showers!  But that’s incidental.  So we trudged back through the hotel lobby… “the walk of shame” as Doug called it and tried to calmly explain to the teary-eyed kids why we weren’t staying at the pool for the afternoon.

As pleased as we were with “Plan B” Chandler and I still couldn’t shake the idea of taking a fresh water shower and drying our hair, so we ventured to the golf locker rooms to see if that option would work.

We had to walk another ¾ of a mile to get to the building that housed the 19^th hole and locker rooms. Dejected, hot and tired, we were dragging by the time we arrived and did our best not to arouse suspicion.  Facing humiliation one time a day was enough for this family.  No one was anywhere in sight as we wandered down the hallway looking for the locker rooms.  We found one and since we couldn’t find a sign indicating male/female, we all went in together.  The kids and Doug jumped into the Jacuzzi and I found my way to the shower.  Unfortunately, for Chandler and me, none of the electrical outlets worked so we didn’t get to use our hairdryer after all.  About 30 minutes later we were all clean and refreshed.  Chandler left the locker room ahead of the rest of us and came running back a moment later.  She had found the ladies locker room where the electrical outlets did work.  We left what was, by then, obviously the MEN’S locker room just as a maid walked by looking at all four of us, especially Chandler and me, with a quizzical look and a half-hearted, “Hola”.  Humiliation that time didn’t feel so badly. Perhaps one toughens up with each blow.

The next day we executed “Plan B” and enjoyed a fun-filled 24 hours at the Wyndham Resort Barra de Navidad.  And we shrieked, hooted, and howled as we legally rode the pool slide.

Chandler

Henry Wyatt

Doug

Splash, crash, boom!

As we enjoyed the calm anchorage the Barra lagoon afforded us we would hear waves crashing in the distance each night and wondered how we could hear them anchored so far away from the ocean.  A hike one day gave us our answer.

The luxury resort that sits atop a hill as you enter the Barra lagoon has expansive property surrounding it, including a golf course.  As we explored this area we found a construction site where homes were being built along the Pacific coast.  The coastline was around the rocky point from where we entered the lagoon; we weren't aware of how close it actually was to our boat, not having checked out Google Earth ahead of time.  So it was all a wonderful surprise when we came upon huge waves.  The kids ran around chasing and being chased by these ocean monsters.  Check out the video clip.

French Baker...right outside!

One of the amazing elements of Barra is the French Baker.  Having eaten our fair share of Mexican baked goods we were happy to try this industrious gentleman's baked goods and boy, were we pleasantly surprised.  Little did we expect to find such authentic croissants, quiche, and pies in Barra de Navidad.

Each morning the French Baker loads his bakery items into his panga and motors through the lagoon, selling his delectables to cruisers.  We always smiled when we heard his announcement over the VHF radio that he was, "entering the lagoon".  The mango pies, almond croissants, and ham and cheese croissants were only a few of the many delicious items that regularly sold out so one would either have to be anchored at the front of the lagoon (which we weren't) or pre-order certain items if you wanted them on your breakfast plate.  His bakery was in town so if all else failed and we weren't able to buy what we wanted when he was in the lagoon, we would pick up some croissants at the bakery and try not to eat them until the next morning, if at all possible, which was rarely the case.

As he approached our boat each day we would hear, "French baker right outside" over the VHF. Immediately I would scramble for our pesos and the kids would gather up the empty plastic containers from the previous days baked goods (recycling of course) to return to our French friend. Chandler got so good at imitating his "French baker right outside" comment, we thought she could easily pass for a French national herself! 

Wanting to know how he got to Barra and how he came to open a French bakery in town, let along a delivery service to cruisers, we would ask him question upon question for the first few days. He would graciously answer one or two and then explain that he must be on his way to deliver the rest of his goods to other boaters.  We admired his ability to go to a foreign country, set up a business, learn the laws and local protocol, and actually make a profit. He explained that it hadn't been easy but that he and his wife enjoyed the lifestyle in Barra and that he was most grateful for being able to buy his own panga a few years back enabling him to make more profit instead of having to rent a boat to do his cruiser deliveries each day.

The "piece de resistance" was when, on Valentine's Day, he delivered a single red rose to ladies on each boat, regardless of them buying something from him or not. Pure genius...how could you NOT buy something from this wonderful gentleman who so clearly enjoyed his work, worked hard, and loved his life?

French Baker..."right outside" our boat

Scrumptious croissants and other delectable items

French Baker on his way to another boat in the lagoon.

Music bonding

This day Henry Wyatt got hooked on the MP3 player music library and shared his treasures with Pop.  “Listen to this!” He extended one earplug and the boogie’n tune of Bonnie Raitt gave us eye contact and head nods.  I started a slow shuffle in the galley and H followed step—shuffle to the port, shuffle to the starboard. Oh yeah, a little galley shuffle. And what does one do when Van Morrison comes on? Dance on!  A little shoulder hunching with the shuffle. We catch each other smiling – the man child at 9 and Pop…music bonding. In the galley.  Sharing a set of earphones. And some rock from the ‘70’

Vanity, conservation, and observation

Vanity:

 

Washing hair onboard. Chandler and I wash each others hair in a bucket once in a while when it’s too cold to jump in the water to bathe.  The fresh water shower off the back of the boat makes it somewhat easy but still, it’s an awkward way to get clean.  When one is trying to conserve water it’s hard to stand there and let fresh water rinse over you and drop down into the sea, knowing you could capture the run-off and at least rinse it down the head (toilet) to give the pipes a fresh water rinse.  In fact we keep a bucket at our feet when we shower to do just that.  Just one of the many ways sailors think through and conserve their resources.

Salt water wash, fresh water rinse. 

 Observation:

When we first headed out of Puerto Escondido (months ago) and sailed south for 2+ weeks I couldn’t help but notice that Doug was getting more attractive day by day while I was feeling increasingly unattractive.  I concluded this:  for guys, this lifestyle only makes one feel more virile and manly – scruffy beard after a few days of not shaving; feeling physically stronger due to the activity of raising and lowering sails; mentally stronger due to handling crew complaints and fixing engine troubles; feeling more self-sufficient due to catching fish for the family each night; the list goes on.  

On the other hand, after not showering for a few days (the water’s freezing) I feel gross and look worse. Doug says he doesn’t notice. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad but for now I’m grateful and move on.  The salty air permeates my clothes and makes them feel damp at all times. Yuck!  I crawl into the bed sheets at night and a similar feeling takes over. Double yuck!  At this point Doug is smiling…living his dream and it’s all good.   

The next day I wake to put on the same outfit I had on yesterday, pull my dirty hair into a ponytail and stick a do-rag on it, as if that’s fashionable. Out here, nobody notices and it doesn’t make sense to put clean clothes on a dirty body.  Doug on the other hand looks great in his three-day-old outfit. What’s going on here?

See what I mean?

La Manzanilla

Across the bay from Tenacatita is a town called La Manzanilla.  We chose not to sail there from Tenacatita due to it typically being a rocky anchorage and the strong surge that takes place at the shore, making it difficult to dinghy from the boat to the beach. We didn’t want to miss what La Manzanilla offered so we accessed it via the land route from Barre.  Along with our friends aboard the catamaran, Ceilydh (pronounced Kay-lee), and their parents, visiting from Canada, we took two local buses to arrive at La Manzanilla for the afternoon.  We stopped at Yoli’s, a delicious restaurant that serves wonderful shrimp salad, chicken fajitas, and frozen lemonade…something we haven’t found anywhere else in Mexico.  

Clockwise starting with Henry Wyatt, Maia, Chandler, Evan, Ann, Doug, Diane, Marge, Frank

Yoli's kitchen with its many cooks and kids

 From there we toured the crocodile sanctuary.  Pretty much in the middle of town, lies a lagoon filled with baby and adult crocs.  Some are in a zoo-like setting but the ones we spent most of our time viewing were in the lagoon. Although you could see some of the crocs from behind a chain link fence for free, we paid a mere 5 pesos (.45 cents) per person to walk across a rickety bridge, check out the baby crocodiles on dry land and climb up to a viewing tour to sight more of the carnivorous beasts.  They all seemed so calm and quiet but when our friend, Frank, reached over the cement wall to see if he could pick up a baby croc, the little guy scrambled faster than lightening to get out of there!  Their size and lazy appearance camouflage their true move-ability. 

Ann and Henry Wyatt heading up the viewing platform

Baby croc

Traveling with Diane and her family from Ceilydh is a treat, since she is a travel writer and a good one at that!  She researches destinations and finds out-of-the-way places worth visiting and we benefited from some of her kindness and knowledge when we were with her this day.  Diane heard of an art gallery in La Manzanilla so we set off to find it and were pleasantly surprised when we found it off the main street, up a dead-end, unpaved road.  Once inside the gallery I immediately felt that serene atmosphere I experience whenever I leave a busy street and enter a museum. It was such a different feeling than what most of Mexico offers and I loved it.  The artwork was surprisingly good.  One of two Mexican brothers had painted local cowboys walking down a dusty road; a woman who lives in Canada during the warm months and La Manzanilla during the winter months, showed colorful pieces of art depicting traditional Mexican street scenes; and paper mache chickens sat throughout the gallery giggling with one another as we wondered through the four or five rooms viewing art, crafts, and jewelry.    Diane and her mom bought jewelry, Doug and I contemplated buying the cowboy painting (but opted not to) and Chandler, Henry, and Maia (Diane and Evan’s daughter) found the backyard garden and its peaceful environment a fun place to play. 

Before boarding the bus back to Barre we bought ice cream bars and walked along the beach.  A good day of friendship and exploration.

Barra de Navidad

We found Barra enchanting.  After a short, one hour sail from Melaque, we arrived at the channel that leads to the Barra lagoon.  Many a boat has run aground here so Doug was especially careful to watch our depth and stick to the advice other cruisers had given us.  We saw the luxurious looking hotel which sat atop a hill off to the starboard side and some docks off to the  port. We stayed close but not too close to the fishing traps that were marked and popping above the water.  We saw restaurants at the lagoons edge and couldn't wait to try them. 

After finding the perfect spot at the back of the lagoon, near our friends on Ceilydh and away from the Pacific, it's swells, and wind, we relaxed in the cockpit for an hour or so while Chandler rowed over and reunited with Maia on Ceilydh.  Reunions are always so wonderful!

This was to be our furthest point south and we knew we would stay for a week or two so we wanted to take it all in and get our bearings.   We soon saw pangas racing around us and quickly learned they were water taxis or the local "taxi aquatico" service.  We decided to give it a whirl.  Off the boat we went, adventurous spirits in tow.  Maia joined us as we explored this new town, ran into Maia's parents and grandparents at dinner, explored the unique shops Barre offered and overall had an evening unlike what we had experienced at other anchorages on the mainland.  This place promised to be fun!!

Our panga driver dropped us at the municipal dock for taxis.  It felt like we were in the South Pacific arriving at a tiki hut.  (You cruisers in the South Pacific are laughing right now knowing that comparison is weak).  We were charged 50 pesos per person per ticket for a round trip.  We had been told the cost for taxis was "inexpensive" but as we all know, "inexpensive" is a relative term!  We did the quick math and realized we would be paying $15 - $18 dollars USD a day for transportation to and from town for the four of us and that's if we wanted to get off our boat only once a day.  We would reevaluate tomorrow.  Tonight we were ready to splurge a little, having not spent much money since leaving Puerto Vallarta.

As we started to walk through town it hit us...this place had charm.  It felt totally different than other ocean-side beach towns.  Store fronts were painted with colorful paintings, shop vendors offered items that we hadn't seen in Mexico before, like the guy who sold India import skirts, light fixtures, and wall hangings.  The cafes looked like they could almost be fashioned after a Van Gogh painting.  Take a look at our view...

Good R & R music blasted out of here most nights and although we never went in
we would dance down the street as we walked by!

This surf shop almost looked like it could have been in the U.S.

Sofa seating...on the sidewalk!

 

Lights hanging outside shops helped create a beautiful ambiance at sunset.

Store fronts were boldly painted and lit to draw people in, something not seen at many restaurants along the coast.  The glow around this restaurant was certainly enticing.

Even tiny eateries like this one emitted it's own share of colorful creativity when attracting customers.

Rey Momo or "King Momo"...obviously king of the surf scene for anyone wishing to rent a board.

The kids were equally as impressed with the shops and their wares.

Chandler and Henry acting as gourmet cooks

Chandler and Maia doing the same

 Needless to say, we enjoyed our first evening and the ensuing days in Barra! More fun to come.

Melaque

From Tenacatita we sailed south to Melaque, a beach town in the southern part of the state of Jalisco.  It has a fairly large bay that sits next to the mouth of the lagoon in Barre de Navidad.  We arrived at sunset and dropped the stern and bow anchors to ensure a smooth evening.  We heard it could be quite a rocky anchorage due to waves from the Pacific wrapping around the rocks at the mouth of the bay.  Fortunately we enjoyed two smooth days and evenings here which allowed us to do some land exploration at the nearby town of Cuesta Comate.

Cuesta Comate is a very small village that sits around the rocky ridge that juts out from the bay in Melaque.  Wanting to explore it, we set off on foot to see how we could get over the hill and check it out.  Early in the morning we found the beach vendors were already setting up their stands for the day. We bought fresh mango - on a stick - and pineapple juice in its original packaging.  Yum!

 As we went ashore and asked directions for walking to Cuesta Comate (approx 2 miles away) the kids saw a family that had bunnies, birds, cats, and dogs and a few chickens running around so we stopped for a rest and to talk with the family members who sat outside soaking up the Mexican sun.  The senora of the house genuinely welcomed us to look at the animals and her many plants too.  We find this to be the case with almost everyone we meet in Mexico. They are so happy to talk with us, invite us into their homes, offer to feed us, etc.  This type of situation always strikes me as amazing since I'm pretty sure it's not something I would most likely do if I were living in the US and had a "foreigner" walk by my house.  This experience is giving me a number of things to think about relative to my attitude toward and response to my neighbors, regardless of who those neighbors happen to be.

We continued on our way and as we started along the main road with its many curves Doug and I thought it best to get a ride instead of walk the unknown route so we decided to stick our thumbs out and see if we could catch a ride over the hill to Cuesta Comate. As soon as we did this Chandler and Henry said, "What are you doing?" Of course their reaction came from our telling them never to get into a stranger's car so we explained how being with us and doing it in a small town in MX was about the safest place to do this sort of thing.  They continued to look at us as we blatantly broke one of the laws we had set forth.  Parenting is never black and white.  As my thumb flew up for the approaching car to see, the kids simply stood in amazement and watched.  Within a minute we had a ride.  A couple from Canada, who had been renting houses in  Cuesta Comate for 8+ years picked us up in their rented van; a far nicer vehicle than I thought we would find.  The back of a pick-up would have been more common on those streets.  Our new Canadian friends gave us all the scoop we needed about the tiny town to enjoy a few hours there.

We ate lunch in one of the five or six palapa restaurants that line the beach, while vendors -- girls and ladies selling their hand-made jewelry -- offered us their colorful creations.  Chandler bought a crocheted bracelet for 40 pesos (about $3.50 USD) and Henry played in the beach sand oblivious to the vendors all around him.

Since we now knew the road better we decided to walk back to Melaque instead of taking a ride.  It ended up being an easy walk and gave us some more time to stretch our sailor legs.  As we headed over the hill we saw a couple of cows walking up the road and then we heard car horns and then we saw a young boy herding cattle along the road, which created a traffic jam and some unhappy motorists.  Never a dull moment.

Tenacatita February 3

We had long awaited our arrival to Tenacatita due to so many friends telling us about their experience here last year.  Some stayed at this anchorage up to 6 weeks; the comfortable weather, warm water, snorkeling, calm anchorage, number of kid boats, estuary tour, etc., etc., kept them here.   

We arrived and anchored alongside 15 other boats and enjoyed a calm, restful sleep that night. 

The next day we went ashore to explore the much-talked-about estuary.  We heard the dinghy ride to shore was a bit precarious with the pounding surf breaking on shore so we timed our arrival to coincide with the flood tide, using it to carry us into the estuary, which was fed by the water in the bay.  As we approached, with the waves crashing over the shoals at the mouth of the estuary, we wondered if we would make it “in” without being “swamped” but thanks to Doug’s handling of the dinghy and engine, we made it through and glided into the calmer waters.   

Once inside we quickly became aware of the smooth waters and how quiet and serene the environment was. Henry and Chandler pointed out egrets, flora and fauna, algae, fish and more.  Unfortunately we didn't see any crocodiles, as we thought we might.  All-in-all Mother Nature and the wildlife gave us spectacular surroundings to enjoy.   

 

A panga of fishermen or two passed us as they headed for the bay but as we cruised further into the estuary we were the only explorers of this majestic water way.  Mangroves surrounded us, their roots reaching up out of the water and spreading into bushes above our heads.  At points they created a tunnel for us to travel through.   

About an hour into our ride the estuary emptied into a small lagoon.  Tahitian looking huts sat off to one side and mangroves to the other.  We heard someone had executed their right to the land, thereby chasing out the local shop keepers and palapa restaurateurs, so we knew, somewhat, what to expect when we pulled up to the dock where previous years cruisers were able to disembark to buy supplies and enjoy a day at the beach.  Sure enough, 4 heavily armed guards dressed in black stood at the end of the dock where the huts were located.  As we approached, Chandler asked them if we could get off the dinghy to walk the beach.  The guards were very polite but declined our request and said we would have to dinghy to the other side of the lagoon and walk the road to the now-deserted beach.  Everyone smiled and waved as we left the dock.

We dinghyed back through the thick mangrove bushes and arrived at the beach where our boat was anchored.  By then many other dinghy and panga tours were underway. We were glad to have enjoyed the estuary when it was quiet and undisturbed.  

Tenacatita beach is a long stretch of white sand and the kids immediately took to it with glee.  Tag was the immediate game of choice.

Doug and I decided to go back to the boat to get some beach toys. Little did we know the trip would be a heart-stopping one.  We saw a few other cruisers navigate the crashing surf in their dinghys and tried to figure out how we, too, would get over the 4 foot waves to arrive at our boat without being swamped.  Doug, being the surfer that he is, recognized that the waves were coming in “sets” so we watched for a while, studying the wave flow and timed our exit accordingly.  It looked like after a set we would have about 15 to 18 seconds to motor across the wave line and get beyond the pounding surf.  After a large set of three waves passed, we jumped in the dinghy, started the engine, and headed in.  An unexpected additional set of waves approached but we were already committed and kept going.  As we flew over the first wave Doug shouted commands to me to help keep us upright and moving forward.  “Ann, get to the front, stand up, get back now, sit down!”  My heart was a flutter.  We got past that wave and thought we had cleared the teeth of the monster when another wave, bigger and far mightier, started to build in front of our eyes.  It didn’t look good.  As we headed up the face of the wave it felt like we were climbing up to the sky. The white foam of the curling wave stayed right under the bow of the dinghy. It felt like we held that position for a long time.  Although Doug may have given me commands to “stand, sit, move” again I didn’t hear a thing. I was concentrating too hard on the massive wave.  I instinctively stood up at the bow as we road the wave higher and higher upward; I was hoping my weight on the bow would force the dinghy over the wave.  Finally the dinghy did indeed slide down the back side of the wave; we were almost lifted out of the boat as gravity thrust the dinghy back down into the water with a resounding slap.  From there we were clear and laughed (and I almost cried out of pure exhilaration and fright) as we headed speedily for HanaCrew.  We felt duly accomplished.

After that the rest of our stay in Tenacatita was fairly uneventful.  We didn’t run into many other kid boats but we did have a wonderful dinghy-up pot-luck dinner headed by “the Mayor”, a gentleman who with his wife who have visited Tenacatita for 10+ years.  Twenty boats dinghyed to a designated spot in the bay, each bringing a dish to share.  The Mayor’s daughter, son-in-law, and two young grandchildren were visiting.  It was his granddaughter’s 3rd b-day so as each cruiser introduced him/herself the Mayor asked them to share a birthing story.  Happy, love-filled, and sometimes humorous tales were told and we all enjoyed each others cooking for a an hour or two sitting in our dinghies eating and chatting, as cruisers do so well.

Heading to the dinghy tie up pot luck

Closer

Arrival!

Enjoying the potluck dinner where people sat in their dinghy's while food was passed between them all

Henry had fun playing with the Mayor's grandson

Chandler and her friend, Maia, shared a sweatshirt when the sun started to go down

Sunset over Tenacatita Bay

We departed Tenacatita the next day.  Surprising to us we only stayed 3 days but there didn’t seem to be a reason to stay beyond that so we headed south to Barre de Navidad.

Sounds like...

Another overnight passage (101 nautical miles south) on our way from Puerto Vallarta to a small fishing village, Chamela.   We set off in the late afternoon to a red stairway sunset to heaven.  

The next morning, Henry set the fishing lines and we pulled in a whopper Dorado.   In a pinch Ann gaffed it and pulled it on board, much to her own dismay! 

After fresh fish tacos, the rocks and island entrance to Chamela appeared.

Chamela – Does surf make sound if no one is there to listen?

A nice, low mountain backdrop; a couple close islands like pearl drops.   A long, yellow stretch of beach sand and friendly surf like kids like.   One row of palapa restaurants were stamped along the shore; and two or three 2-3 story hotels were hidden behind palms.   A warm climate; great setting.   What industry do the people do here?   It seems like if there is a beautifully developed area along the beach front in Mexico, it is built up only for the northern tourists.   The locals’ life styles don’t develop the area.  Panga fishing boats line the beach.

I remember Newport Beach pier in the 60’s and the panga-like fishing boats on weekends that pulled up on the beach and sold fish.  Their holds filled with ice, and tarps or umbrellas shading the catch.   Instead of buying fish though, we’d usually go to “Hank’s Fish-N-Chips” across the beachfront parking lot and order a plate of more-than-you-can-eat for 50 cents.   But even then there were shops, paved roads, working people’s homes that lined the boardwalks and streets.   Newport Beach was moving on regardless of tourism.   In ten years the fish was gone.

It was Sunday in Chamela.  Several families sat at the palapas or in the shade of the pangas under the tunes of the horns and singing on the radios.   Kids gathered in the surf.   We cut through some pangas and similar looking palapas to a dirt road for some provisions.  It was the quiet that stood out.   Maybe it was the contrast to the steady surf sound or constant music at each palapa, but even a little boy pushing a plastic cart in his side yard seemed to be moving soundlessly.   A dog wandered over without a bark; no one was around to call him back.   Henry and I returned to the beach to play catch with a football; Chandler and Ann walked on for provisions.  They found eggs, and some vegetables and fruit, boxed juices, tortillas.   Then we ran around; played more catch -- played in the surf with a pretty back drop of low mountains, a couple of close-by islands, on a long, yellow stretch of sandy beach like kids and families like.    Sounds nice.

A few small islands lie in the bay off the coast of Chamela.  We explored the tide pools and beach.  Another great afternoon.

We found hermit crabs both with and without shells.  Henry made a rock fort to contain his but most of them climbed out anyway.

That evening dinner was served in the cockpit and we spent the night anchored off an island in Bahia Chamela.