Helen's Cool List

Saturday, December 31

by guest blogger Helen

On Wednesday, my mother and I went out early to get some provisions at Mega, a large chain grocery store. Mega had almost exactly the same (and, as far as I could tell, same quality) fruits and vegetables as what we found down at the outside market—which is sort of like going to the Pike Place Market and then to Target and finding the same selection. I was invited on this particular shopping trip to increase my mothers’ efficiency, but instead spent most of my time giggling in the aisles, as this kind of store combines two of my favorite things: food fads and language. For instance, I found Galletas Salades, which I initially translated as Salad Cookies. I wondered if this was a cookie made of vegetables or (better) a cookie to go with salad! As it turned out, my translation was just bad. Galleta can also mean biscuit or cracker. As anyone who has been to Mexico surely knows, the most common bread brand is Bimbo. We also discovered that it was near impossible to find unaltered sugar—almost all sugars were “Reducida en calorías” and/or “Adicionada con fibra”. Perhaps this is common in the US too, and I just don’t spend enough time in chain grocery stores. Finally, I found a package of “Facial Quality” toilet paper.

Since I have been benefiting from my parents’ generosity, I offered to help my father out with a few boat repairs. I’m the smallest adult around, so I suggested that perhaps I could help him with something bosun’s chair-related. He was excited and quickly had me replacing zip ties on the SSP antennae attached to the backstay. I thought I was done, but no. He wanted me to go up the mast. I agreed and got harnessed up again. I then discovered that the rides up the mast that I remember from childhood are apparently over. I had to go up there under my own power, using an extremely awkward push-me-pull-you inchworm system. I wasn’t totally thrilled about this but figured it would be worth it to help my dad make important improvements to the boat. Silly me. When I asked what I would be doing up there, he replied, “Oh nothing. Just looking around.” But of course it was worth it when several guys watching from below commented that they would be scared to do what I was doing.

On my first night in the boat, I heard a sound in the night that I interpreted as rain. I thought, “That’s strange. It didn’t seem like rain when I went to bed,” but had forgotten about it by the time I woke up in the morning. The second night, I heard it again and attributed it to normal boat creaking and/or water noises. It sounded like thousands of pop rocks going off in succession. Finally, the following night, Peter inquired about the sounds during a lull in a raucous bridge game. My mother informed him that the noises he heard were snapping shrimp. I was up a few margaritas, and therefore in a gullible state. I waited until the next morning to confirm the story with her. It’s true—snapping shrimp are about 1.5 inch long tropical shrimp designed with one huge claw that snaps shut with such a bang that it can even break glassware. We hear them especially at night.

I am sad to be going back to Brooklyn. My favorite times in Mazatlán have been mornings on the boat, waking up to the gurgling of the coffee maker, and tuning in for the updates from other cruisers on the local Net with my parents. This morning, my coffee is accompanied by a slice of guayaba pie (guava cream pie with pecan crust), my new favorite food.

Feliz Nuevo Año, Helen and everyone!

Helen Gets Us out of Town

Friday, December 30

Thursday afternoon Helen in her usual efficient way focused on making the most of her last day, but in our usual pull it out of your, uh…the air, fashion we were a bit in the dark on how to grant her final wish for some sightseeing outside the city.  Having “done” the town, all three of us wanted to see a bit of the countryside sampling the rural flavors of Sinaloa, but not with a busload of tourists. That night no obvious means for achieving this end came to hand but we had one hope left. Fortunately the 8 a.m. cruisers’ net came to our aid with the number of a cab driver, a former tour leader named Gerry. With fingers crossed I called him and by 8:45 we were in Gerry’s cab headed out of Maz on Route 15. Phew!

Having rejected the standard tourist destinations, we decided to head for a lagoon south of the city where we could see some birds and seaside settlements. Our first stop, in Rosario, one of the oldest cities in Sinaloa and formerly quite an important center of wealth and manufacturing, took us to an ancient church built in1759. Mining around the region had yielded so much gold that the front wall of the church was finished entirely in ornate gilt relief. Local mining had also undermined the church’s original foundation setting off a major rebuilding project in which the whole church was moved stone by stone. We watched a bit of a christening ceremony, then crossed the street to read about the famous singer Lola Bertran.

No Mexican town could function without a traditional market. Set in a maze of narrow one way streets, Rosario’s was a challenge to reach. Each of us wanted something specific (besides the baños). Charlie found some locally produced spicy choriso. For me Gerry located the best juice bar. The celery, guava and orange drink was a hit with Charlie and Helen. I shocked the ladies by ordering a blend of strawberry, orange and milk. Milk!? Actually this was a recipe from the Licuados stand in Mazatlan. Then Helen insisted on a reprise of our earlier candy shopping. Jerry bought us coconut covered marshmallows while she found tamarind candy and a guava sugar cake to take on the plane.

Really the Mazatlan Market, thanks to Margaret J

On a sugar high we headed out to the coast through orchards of mangos and plums, passing many farms with serially planted corn crops, lettuce, chiles and tomatoes, and even cactus. Near the ocean on the flat sandy land we saw huge coconut palm plantations and quite a bit of cattle ranching along with shrimp farming. Laguna Caimanero’s feeder streams and muddy shores are a great place for birding. Surprisingly Gerry had never been out here before. The birds fascinated him as did my Sibley guide but it didn’t cover a lot of the birds. Back at the boat I took out the Mexican birds book and learned about all the ibises. This one is probably an immature white. Lots of new species to study!

Having a college educated bilingual guide made the whole trip twice as good. He told us stories about the past and answered questions. How bad is it with the local drug lords? (The Army got 'em.) Why don't cruise ships come to Mazatlan any more? Too many charges by the port and of course the economy. The next day he brought us corn and empanadas, regalos from the market, before going off to work. Thanks, Gerry. Thanks, Helen too. We'll miss you.

And Then There Were Three

Thursday, December 29

After we hugged the Vermonters good-bye, Helen and Charlie set off to see the sculptures on the Malecon. 

The little open car is a pulmonia, the local open air taxi originated here over the protests of taxi drivers. (Pulmonia, as those drivers christened them, means pneumonia!) At this season it’s a bit chilly driving around in them, but kind of fun, especially when all 8 of us could crowd into the back of the pickup truck variety and sing along with the inevitable 60’s pop music piped in for us.

That evening as the dew started to fall, we loaded into the dinghy for the long awaited exploration of this big estuary, home to four marinas, a golf course, several hotels and many residences. Many fish were jumping and the wading birds were out in force finding plenty of prey. The banks, unfortunately, are mostly rock lined but a few mangroves are left. We saw black skimmers, many egrets, yellow-crowned night herons, great and little blue herons, wood storks and hundreds of flying cormorants. Also noted California style canals with docks installed side by side where the residences were packed along the slough, but oddly, no other boats in transit. Finished our cruise in last of sunset afterglow with Venus and Jupiter joining the crescent moon.

Isla Venados

Wednesday, December 28

While the VT kids were visiting we wanted to get out on the water at least once, hoping to combine a trip to Venados Island with some fishing. However no amount of late night internet time could finagle online registration for licenses on the government’s Conapesca site. In the morning I even called them, but they were closed for the holidays! No point in gnashing teeth. Just go out and have fun.

 So, following the cattle boat cats moored in our marina, we “cruised” out to the island on a beautiful morning, anchored, dinghied in and played on the beach. 

The mountain goats of the family couldn’t resist climbing to the top of the island for great city views and a good workout. Helen made the ascent twice! Along the trail we admired a leaf cutter ant parade. 

Forrest and Gardy found a couple of dead blowfish and enshrined one with tourist beverage bottles.

The trip was just as good, maybe better, without bait, hooks and snarled lines.

Photo gracias a Margaret

For Margaret’s family’s last night we went out to the El Cid Fiesta. Usually I don’t comment on meals, but this event involved a splendid buffet that occupied the area of two basketball courts with a variety of Mexican dishes at which, for once, “all you can eat” was not the kiss of death. Afterwards we watched the show, a delightful assortment of talent and culture running from a demonstration of roping by a lasso champion to various styles of dancing in traditional costumes, a Mariachi band and singing. It was a great choice and at a bargain price. 

Birthday 64

December 22 and 23

by guest blogger Helen Stillman

You know your blog life is going well when you get requests from guest bloggers.

I arrived in Mazatlán on Thursday (my mother’s birthday) and immediately requested guest blogger status, so I guess that means my mom is blog famous.

In lieu of Christmas carols and cold cuts, it became quickly apparent that my mother intended to take advantage of her Mexico birthday by creating an elaborate and unique plan of celebration for su compleaños de año 64.

She was practically giddy as I entered the boat and headed towards the fore cabin, my designated sleeping quarters. Waiting for me there was an enormous, wide-eyed, yellow piñata. My mother proudly informed me that its name was Seattle Rein!

As a women’s basketball fan, I heard this as Seattle Reign (Seattle’s women’s bball team). I laughed, confused about my mother’s sudden enthusiasm for women’s athletics. However, I was quickly informed that this was instead a joke on reindeer. Mazatlán, incidentally, means “Land of the Deer”, so it seemed fitting all around.

We were in good spirits and excited to share birthday celebrations with Margaret’s family. Unfortunately, the big celebration had to be postponed until Friday because of flight troubles on the way down from Vermont. Peter, Kate, and Forrest were in Mazatlán, while Margaret and Gardy were stuck in Houston. No matter—we had the available relatives over for a feast of grilled shrimp. (The shrimp came from the guy who drives the marina water taxi. Muy sabroso!)

I have to insert here that I have discovered that my parents’ individual strategies regarding use of the Spanish language very much mirror their strategies as human beings. My mother has worked hard to know everything and to be competent, and plows through conversations in Spanish with vendors, children, security guards, and taxi drivers, insistent on getting her point across. My father, in contrast, has mastered two charming phrases that he repeats with gusto. Phrase 1: MUY SABROSO!! Phrase 2: La cuenta, por favor. (He insists that he knows more—and adds “Besides, I have my telephone app to look up any word rather efficiently.”)

On Friday morning, my mother and I headed to the downtown city market. I prodded my mother to purchase every kind of exotic fruit we saw—particularly guavas. We also found a small candy stand, where we procured items for the piñata. I was excited about “pulparindo”, a spicy tamarind fruit leather-like product.

In the afternoon, we filled the piñata and started to tackle the next big problem: where and how to hang it. Always the rebel, my mother tended to think that we should sneak down to the beach and hang it from a palapa. Luckily, she decided to consult the La Cid hotel staff, who had a rope available, and were experienced at manning it, an excellent system for us.


With the whole family gathered, we took turns waling at Seattle Rein/Rain/Reign, starting with the youngest and going towards the oldest. You'll notice that we're all sporting tropical shirts... someone's idea of party favors. (My mother felt genuinely remorseful about taking a bat to the poor little deer and justified her actions by invoking the added pun “beating Seattle rain by coming down to Mexico”.)

I was delighted to see the hotel guys jumping in to to grab dulces along with the rest of us when the candy started raining down. Afterward, Kate and I took turns throwing candy up to the guy who had been holding the rope from the roof.

After a surprisingly delicious hotel dinner, we headed back to the boat. Margaret and Gardy had written my mom new verses to When I’m 64 during their Houston detour, which they sang. My mother was prepared with printed copies of the original version, which she passed around for all to sing.

Margy and Gardy’s lyrics:

When you get older

Sailing with ease

You’ll be having fun

You’ll invite your family

To play with you
And your Charlie
In the Mexican sun

Eating some tacos

With guacamole

Having more and more

You’ll be cruising

Winning and losing

Now you’re 64

We will have a merry merry Christmas

In the warmer climes

With our captain Susie

Which spot will she chooooooose?

And if you are good she will share her views.

We followed this with key lime pie, cocinado por mí.

Piñata Search

December 21

Most of this day was spent exploring the historical district and walking the Mazatlán malecón, about 4 miles along gorgeous beaches. Charlie and I realized we had somehow forgotten the whole point of the expedition: to purchase a piñata. (Don’t they just grow on trees in Mexico?) Upon inquiring, we learned of Mil Piñatas, a store downtown.

When the pulmonía driver escorted us to a tiny hole in the wall on a narrow residential street, it almost seemed he must have made a mistake, but a hand lettered sign confirmed the shop location. Inside it was dark and about as big as our cabin, but with a high ceiling strung with wires for hanging the piñatas. A small woman came out of the back room, also dark, in which we glimpsed a man wrapping crepe paper around a paper maché form and a helpful spotted dog. Speaking only in (my lame) Spanish we established that we were looking for a small piñata. There wasn’t much choice. While getting our bearings and adjusting to the dark, we looked again into the workroom. Beside stacked newspapers I saw an orange cat and now three dogs. Along the back hung half finished piñata bodies. Suddenly a chicken strode across the cement floor. Talk about breaking the ice. I had to know if the chicken and the cat got along. “Sí, son amigos” the lady told me.

After that we had a great talk about my birthday, our party plans, and so on. Charlie selected a charming yellow reindeer for me and photographed everyone. We all hugged good-bye and left in a happy glow which lasted as kids looked up, smiled and pointed at the funny foreigners carrying the awkward but charming deer past them on the streets.

Hasta Luego La Paz...Hello Maz!

Monday, December 19

Every day Charlie has been up early, and even before coffee, tuning the SSB radio to listen to the weather forecast by Don Anderson up in Ventura. The views of this old salt added to info from Sailflow.com and other sites contributed to a picture of favorable conditions in the waters of the "Southern Crossing" this weekend. Especially for a long slog like the 240 mile trip across to Mazatlan we wanted to be off when the going looked smooth.

All signs were for light to moderate wind from the north for a couple of days starting on Saturday, and although I had to walk off just before the Bridge game and a great Christmas concert in town, we said our good-byes to Mary and the nice folks at Marina de La Paz. About noon we powered out the long channel in a dead calm. The tilted rock strata at the end of Isla Espiritu Santo looked particularly appealing as we passed it, but we expect to have more time there when we return in February.

After a quiet night the wind came up a bit and I was lucky enough to see a terrific sunrise against a sky of Martine's blue with crazy light splashes like solar flares at the horizon. All day the wind carried us at about 7 knots though it came up to 20-25 eventually with short, rolling waves. We watched a glow on the southern horizon gradually turn into city lights. Charts of this area are notoriously lacking in detail, but Charlie set waypoints for our turn at the base of Isla Venados and for the anchorage on the lee side based on our cruising guides and info on our iPad Navionics charts. While bouncing around in the dark and the wind we found our way effectively due to his foresight.

Our midnight arrival wasn't great timing but a the night on the hook inside the island gave us calm water and some lovely sleep even if the wind was buffeting the boat a bit. The long strip of shore lit by bright lights and Christmas decorations felt welcoming and exciting, our first real city since San Diego. Today we got up, listened to the weather and the radio nets, pounded north about 7 miles into sloppy waves and made the tight turn between breakwaters into Marina El Cid. This place with its two swimming pools will be home for our first tropical Christmas.