Yelapa

January 21-23

Oil change pit for the panga

One nice aspect of Bandaras Bay so far has been the sea breeze in the afternoon. It cools us down and provides a reach to places we want to sail. Kind of like Buzzard’s Bay but usually under 12 knots. Sometimes we lazily pull out the jib and motorsail as we did this cloudy Sunday afternoon. I didn’t want to have my hopes too high for Yelapa, formerly known for a very simple style of life along a beautiful beach. Electricity came to this village about ten years ago but cars are still unable to reach it. However we’d heard that the panga traffic was constant and tours from PV visit regularly.

Our first experiences were somewhat inauspicious. First we were greeted, practically lassoed, by an enterprising pangaman named Romeo whose eyes must have been on us for quite a while. He commandeered our fleet of two to take us to his moorings. Anchoring would be just about impossible as the panga moorings occupied all the areas shallow enough for us. We felt a bit trapped, but had to laugh as things developed. Upon dingying ashore, our surf landing was assisted by a lovely man who pulled us out of the waves. He, like Romeo, was part of the large family that operate the palapa restaurant opposite our boat. Of course he suggested we sit down with a beer!

 

At night Ian radioed us for help with an attacking panga. Charlie went out with him to tie it to another. Later the sloop moored next to him came within collision distance. Ian, poor guy had to motor out of the way and stand anchor watch the rest of the night. 


The next day the town revealed its charms. At first view Yelapa appears to be divided into two parts, the beach and the village, but in fact, it’s more like all Gaul. The third part is the trails and back country. A couple lead to waterfalls and rental houses in the hills.  We took a delightful path along the south shore where numerous secluded and artsy residences take shelter from the heavily trafficked areas. Ian noticed these 3 tiny lizards on a rock. After our walk we lunched under what we thought was a grapefruit tree! At the end of the hotel beach we met an artist from Saltspring Island who in winter conducts her business from here and lives an hour's walk from the beach. It really is a lovely place to visit.

La Cruzin Life

After Bill and Colene flew off to the big snow (in Seattle) we found ourselves longing to get back on the hook. Moved to La Cruz, just a few miles up the bay where 5 or 6 dozen cruisers find safe, convenient anchorage. From here you can bus to towns from Sayulita to Puerto Vallarta for less than a dollar, eat cheap, and take in a series of weekly markets. Diane and I visited Bucerias during their holy week prior to the blessing of the fleet. The Church was decked out in real flowers on every pillar inside and festooning the entrance. We got a kick out of the outdoor Sunday school class, boys in the back row, girls in front, under a shady tree.

At night we had noticed loud bangs going off at odd intervals. Finally we discovered that the church was receiving pilgrims from all over the state during this week. To celebrate the arrival of each pilgrim a shot was fired. We salute them too, but encourage rolling up in their hair shirts or whatever at night.

All through this part of Mexico we’ve admired Huichol art. In Bucerias many Huichol were gathered around the plaza doing their handiwork and selling art. We enjoyed talking with some of them as well as several kid vendors, who seem to be learning a lot of English in school, in touristland, a valuable skill.

The La Cruz Sunday market was the most high end we’ve seen. Real French bread and pastries, unusually good and original jewelry, home ground peanut butter, organic farm veggies. We ate a second breakfast on the hoof and bought quiche for dinner. Expats abound in this part of Mexico. In addition to hanging out at beaches, many take up social causes. They were out to explain local charities at a number of market tables. Some sold articles made by poor folks, including dump residents, whose industry is an attempt to set them up with skills and a source of income. 

Our Own Jungle Tour

Sunday, January 14

Our friends Diane and Ian on Salish Sea were tied up at the seaward end of the docks, a mile (really) from us in Nuevo Vallarta Marina. On Sunday morning they joined us for an estuary dinghy trip, the last of Colene and Bill’s adventures before returning to snow threatened Seattle. Luckily the fabled fifteen foot resident croc stayed out of sight. We did however find hundreds of large iguanas perching high in trees and mangroves. The birding wasn’t great but it was a fun exploration.

Marina (green) heron, actually taken at La Cruz.

Colene's photo

Paradise Village

Saturday, January 14

Nuevo Vallarta is a huge marina attached to the Paradise Village resort, and as far as we can see, entirely detached from the rest of Puerto Vallarta. Cruisers get amazing, luxurious services, with several great pools and a long ocean beach. Most resort visitors never even leave the premises. As Charlie noted, we've hardly used Spanish since we got here. 

Boogie boards are free and so are the sunsets. Colene kindly sent a few pix.

Tres Marietas Islands

January 13

On the way from Chacala to Punta Mita, our next anchorage, we studied the rocky shores of these islands, another marine national park, at the north end of Bandaras Bay. Our charts had almost no info about them and cruising books said little. Cautiously approaching from the east we saw three orange buoys outside the area indicated for snorkeling. We anchored, donned suits and suddenly found ourselves joined by a large Vallarta Adventures catamaran crowding us on two of the buoys. Soon numerous snorkelers buoyed by bright orange pfd’s bobbed around the cove. Then they launched a fleet of yellow kayaks. What a show! The snorkeling was also good, the best so far with lots of fish varieties and pretty clear water.

While we were anchored, a panga from Semarnat, the parks department, came over. The driver told us we shouldn’t be anchoring there. No signs or publications of any kind had specified we shouldn’t and we were at 40’ with mostly rocks below not ruining a reef. It looked like he was writing us a ticket, but he said we were okay and handed us a sheet of rules. I wondered if he had read them as nowhere did it say no anchoring. We are mystified but have followed up via the dockmaster at Nuevo Vallarta where Gratitude is now. Trying to live by government policies can be confusing here.

Chacala Beach Day

January 10-11

Returning to the mainland coast, we found our anchorage at Chacala somewhat exposed to the sea. Charlie and Bill managed to set out a stern anchor to help keep the bow facing into the waves. It was still a bit rolly but the lovely scenery and sunset distracted us. The next day was spent swimming, blogging, cleaning the bottom, reading, and walking around the tiny town and beaches, a perfect lay day. The state of Nayarit is doing a great job of keeping the beaches clean. Due to the cooperative efforts of the town and businesses, it's recognized and funded as a state approved clean beach.

Chacala photographer 

The culture center at Chacala.

Isla Isabella: Booby Bluff Hike

Monday, January 9

The next day we dinghied around to the fisherman’s beach where trails start. A panga crew unloaded manta rays, cleaning them and rinsing in the sea. Green corrugated metal fishing shacks lined the beach reminding me of the NW native long houses in minature. At the far end men were building small cement domes with holes in them. These turned out to be structures that would be used to help rebuild damaged reefs.

A few steps from where we parked the dinghy, scrufty stunted trees grew or attempted to. Enormous frigate birds occupied every branch, sitting on nests of straw, some with white fuzzy babies. The density of birds was truly indescribable. 

For our hike we chose the route to the booby nesting area along the eastern cliff tops. Walking through the guano coated frigate nesting trees on the way to the cliff our ears were filled with such groans, clacks and shrieks it was like a horror movie sound track.






We had been warned not to step on the boobies and indeed their nests were nothing but depressions in the dirt. The head feathers of the blue footed boobies reminded us of hedgehogs.

One might think that having visitors would be bad for reproduction, but other than a scratchy "Scat!" or two aimed at us, the boobies just seemed inured to intrusion. Isla Isabella is sometimes known as Little Galapagos. Having visited those famous islands, Colene confirmed that our exposure to the resident birds exceeded the possibilities available on most of them due to the huge number of visitors.

In the afternoon we snorkeled around the nearest Mona and saw a good variety of reef fish including a large green eel. Too bad the sun wasn’t out then. Colene climbed into her sausage suit for protection, but I swam with bare legs and fortunately found no little biting jellyfish. 

That night the anchorage was a roll hole. A neighbor boat readjusted its anchor and we stood anchor watch for a while even though the wind hardly blew.

Coral covered domes for reef rebuilding

Isla Isabella: More Whales and Birds

Sunday, January 8

We left San Blas feeling that it was a place to revisit, maybe by land. Time and tide, impatient as always pushed us out in the morning for a calm crossing to the National Park bird sanctuary of Isla Isabella. Its notoriously poor holding ground makes visiting in stable weather a must. On the crossing we noticed many whales. A mother and calf humpback surfaced close to the boat just off the island giving us a great view but no photo.

Arriving about 4, we put in the dinghy and rowed toward the beach. Two huge rocks, the Monas, protect the anchorage a bit from northerly winds and swell. Both are significantly whitened with guano from the frigate birds, pelicans and boobies that roost there. We saw solar panels on shore but were informed that a Norwe-gian research group camping there discour-aged shore visitors.

Cockpit time was rewarded with views of frigates fishing and picking on the boobies. They start fights in the air, pecking at the back feathers of boobies that they suspect have fish. The boobies try landing on the water knowing that once waterborne the frigates cannot take off. We also watched the graceful red-billed tropic birds and Heermann’s gulls going by in flocks as well as peletons of pelicans. (Bill's expression)













Typical Gratitude evening

Before dinner drinks proceeded according to Mexican and Denzel tradition. (Note the green peels at the bottom of the glasses.)

After dinner we had a slideshow of our photos. (See the giant computer screen on the table.)

San Blas Picturebook a.k.a. 4 Cameras Blazing

January 5-8

San Blas has a tiny Fonatur marina (Yay!) on the windy Estero de Poso. Approach over the bar without local knowledge was impossible, but after an hour wait the marina did send us a panga escort. The city continues on in a style set during the mid-1900’s with cobbled streets and a predominance of transport by bike and foot. (Yay again!) In addition to its undeveloped state, the famous “jungle river trip” attracted us and our friends Bill and Colene whom we planned to meet there at the Casa Roxanna Bungalows.

 Charlie and I enjoy looking at the local birds and animals, but don’t have much knowledge of tropical species. In contrast, Bill and Colene have been birding all over the tropics. We happily to booked a guided tour of the Tovara River through the mangrove thickets. In order to have the river to ourselves, we left about 7:30 a.m. before the regular tours began.

A limpkin, no relation of anyone we know.

While Colene and the guide pointed out many birds that we’d never seen before, Charlie snapped away. We enjoyed the cool morning, the beautiful reflections on the flat water and scanning the banks for shy birds. Luckily many of these birds are large and fairly easy to see.





A slightly unnerving aspect of the waterway was its unseen reptile residents. Crocodiles are actually being raised at a farm to repopulate the river. We got out there for a visit midway through the trip. The farm tour was interesting especially as the crocs just lay around like sculptures. You could really examine them up close.

Crocs in a pen at the farm 

Cocodrillo wannabe on movie set

We also saw tilapia swimming free in the river there. They are fed and used for croc food.

This ain't Disneyland folks! Real, not animatronic!

In the early morning the crocs weren’t out yet. On our return the warmer temperature brought out some of the big fellas to sun. Everyone agreed that pangas with their motors scare the crocs, but I wondered about the fishermen we’d passed working out of wooden boats about the size of a large canoe.

The next morning we took walks to another couple of excellent birding sites, Colene and Bill to the unappealing sounding sewage ponds, a favorite with local birders housed at their lodgings, Susie to Cerro de San Basilio, a hill with a commanding view of town. Later Bill and Colene visited the abandoned church there too.

Leaving town we enjoyed views of the waterfront before the 40 mile crossing to Isla Isabella.

Channeling Jacques Cousteau

  

January 5

After an easy night with moonlight for most of the passage we passed San Blas and anchored in Matanchen Bay. The most remarkable schools of small fish, many several times the length of our boat, frothed the water. Along the tide lines they were especially active. A group of sated pelicans sat among the jumping fish and just watched. Like them I couldn’t get enough of watching this amazing volume of sea life, at least three kinds of small fish schooling densely. The water was much warmer here, almost 80°, so we both took a swim, then photographed the second best sunset of the trip.

Last of Mazatlan

January 3

Mazatlan’s city shape is dictated by its long coastline. As a famous Spanish denizen of early times remarked, the city resisted straightening. The high steep peninsula with the famous faro (lighthouse, said to be the second highest in the world) and its sister to the south form the entrance to the port. Now that the cruise ships have abandoned this stop, we tourista types are courted by hotels and marinas far to the north, in the so called Golden Zone and beyond. Before leaving we wanted to stop by the other end of town.

In contrast with the northerly sprawl of towering beach hotels, the city’s Stone Island anchorage is a lovely place to spend time. The Mexicans who have built palapa restaurants along this southern beachfront think of themselves as a band of pioneers. Settling right after WWII and resisting the high rise world of big name tourism, they live like country folk. In this anchorage we photographed the best sunset of the trip so far.

The next morning was spent climbing the Cerro de Chivos among actual goats. We even met their handsome herder, who looked like a caballero, and his horse! At the rocky top frigate birds passed within arm’s length and black vultures peered at us before taking off. We rewarded ourselves with some local beach food, patronizing a pizza spot rebuilt by a young fellow from our state as a gift to his wife’s parents. The recipe was good but Mexican cheese choices just don’t have the sabor we love in pizza.

 That afternoon we headed off for an overnight to San Blas. It was calm, a lovely evening until Charlie called me up on deck. The sight that had him confused floated a bit off our course, but we diverted to check. Up close we could see it was a dead whale floating upside down with fishnet wrapped around its tail and up about a third of its body. Although we have read about the destruction of marine mammals and turtles by net fishing, this was our first direct exposure to a victim. Other sailors had also commented on seeing entangled whales, a very distressing sight to us all.