Monday, February 29, 2016

Huatulco to Puerto Chiapas, 1 March 06:45

Well, we're through the worst of it.

Tehuantepec threw 30 knots at us, bashing on a close reach through steep seas, lots of spray and pounding. It lasted about 5 hours, starting at midnight. First time I have worn full foulies since California! Drenched a few times by blowing spray.

Fun for me. Spooked Renee a little.

Now we're sailing downwind in 18 knots with a gentle following sea. This is expected to peter out soon and we'll be back to motoring before noon, I expect.

Huatulco to Puerto Chiapas 1

Via satellite.

Our weather window has arrived and we left Marina Chahue this afternoon to cross the notorious Gulf of Tehuantepec to Puerto Chiapas.

We have been watching the weather models for the past two weeks and very closely over the last two days. We have been conferring on the weather with John and Bill on Swagman, who are heading in the same direction as us. Both are experienced sailors and we've been hanging out with them off and on since Acapulco.

Getting down to the details, the decision to be made was either to leave this afternoon or tomorrow morning. Leaving this afternoon would mean a relatively calm passage until early tomorrow morning (before sunrise), when we expect to experience some 25 knot winds as we cross the "gap" where the winds from the Gulf of Mexico cross the isthmus and blow hard, funneled through a break in the mountains. Once we cross the gap, the forecast is for light to very light winds the rest of the way to Puerto Chiapas. So a bunch of motoring.

If we left tomorrow morning, we would cross the gap with high winds during daylight. Another big blow is forecast for Thursday, so we would likely pick up some decent winds for sailing later in the passage, so less motoring. The problem is that if the big blow comes early and/or shifts in our direction, we might get caught in it. Unlikely and not that big a deal, but something to consider.

Aesthetically, I would have left tomorrow morning so that we could sail more and run the motors less. But since this is my first Tehuantepec crossing, I opted for the more conservative option. So did John and Bill on Swagman, who left a couple hours before us. We'll be chasing them.

We are taking the recommended "one foot on the beach" route, following the coastline very close to land. By doing this, you don't escape any high winds if they blow, but you are protected from their big seas, as there is no fetch to build waves. Ten miles offshore there can be 20 foot seas, but just little wind waves along the shore.

Right now we are motorsailing at a nice 6.5 knot clip on a close reach in light winds, with a favorable current boosting our speed by a knot or so. The swells are noticeable and Intermezzo is pitching and rolling a bit, but nothing like the bashing they caused on our way to Huatulco.

Puerto Chiapas is about 250 nm away and our current ETA is 1500 on Wednesday. I'll be posting updates as we go, satellite willing.

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Puerto Angel to Huatulco: Port Captain, Sea Life, Bashing, Crucecita

I ended my last blog post with Intermezzo anchored in Puerto Angel and us leaving the boat to get some lunch.  The story continues...

We took the dinghy to the nice little Playa Panteon beach at the northwest end of the harbor and were greeted by Vincente, who helped pull the dinghy up on the beach and assured us he would keep an eye on it for us. He then hustled us up to his recommended palapa restaurant, an offer we couldn't refuse; it seems Vincente is the godfather of Playa Panteon, thankfully a friendly and helpful one. The restaurant turned out great and we enjoyed a nicely prepared fresh fish lunch.

Then it was off to check in with the Capitanía de Puerto (Port Captain), something one is supposed to do at every official Mexican port, an official port being one with a Capitanía. We try to avoid such ports when we can, so that we don't have to deal with the paperwork. Some ports let you check in and out by radio. In some ports, the marinas take care of the check in for their guests. In a few ports we visited, the Capitanía was so far away or kept such irregular hours that we didn't bother to check in and nobody seemed to care. However, if there is a Capitanía with regular hours and within a reasonable distance , we make an effort to comply with the rules out of respect.

The Capitanía in Puerto Angel is on the opposite side of the harbor from where we had lunch, so we followed a nice stone pedestrian walkway around the harbor and through the middle of the pleasant little town. The Capitanía's office is in well kept little building, the entry courtyard of which serves as the home for a family of semi-feral cats who watched us suspiciously as we walked past them. Inside the building is a window through which you transact your business, which involves providing copies of your boat's documentation, its Temporary Import Permit, evidence of Mexican liability insurance and the official paperwork from the port from which you last departed. If you didn't bother to check in at your last port and don't have this paperwork, you just need to put on a really stupid expression and suddenly lose the ability to speak Spanish or any other modern language and mumble unintelligently. Nobody seems to care unless you get uppity and eventually some piece of paper you have brought with you will suffice.

In Puerto Angel, the Capitanía's office is staffed by two uniformed women in addition to his highness, the Capitán. One woman takes your documents, slowly looks them over, asks a few questions and hands you a form to fill out. The form is essentially the same at every port, including the one at your last port of call. But perhaps your boat got longer or wider, or grew a new engine since then, who would know without filling in a new form at every port? The first woman and hands the papers over to the second woman and then returns to scrolling through Facebook on her computer while the second woman s-l-o-w-l-y, one character at a time, fills in an official form on her computer. Thankfully the office is air conditioned while you wait and endure watching this painful process, otherwise after 15 minutes it would be hard to resist climbing through the window and insisting on employing your superior typing skills rather than die of heatstroke from her not being able to find the "x" key to finish entering your last name after taking a minute to enter each of the first two characters.  When this form is finally completed, the second woman prints it out and hands it to the first woman. The first woman then carefully studies the printed form and compares it to your handwritten one and against information on other documents. You pray to God that the second woman didn't make any mistakes that need to be corrected. After carefully putting all the documents in order, then adjusting their order a couple of times, the first woman carries the whole package into the Capitán's private office.  The Capitán, barely taking his eyes off his computer screen (Facebooking too?), reaches for a stamp and you hear the sweet sound of success as it thumps down on your form, which you can now carry with you to your next port of call, so that you can get another form with a stamp on it.

The Capitán and the two women staff are very professional, friendly and doing their job the way it's supposed to be done. As the only visiting boat in their harbor, I feel good that I provided a good half-hour's productive activity for their office that day and that Puerto Angel now also, like a dozen other Mexican ports, has a written record of Intermezzo's length, beam, draft, gross and net tonnage and engine horsepower.

We walked back through town to the dinghy, paid Vincente his 20 peso tribute and returned to Intermezzo to study weather forecasts for our upcoming Gulf of Tehuantepec crossing. We enjoyed a light, late dinner of fresh sashimi from the tuna Renee caught that morning.

We left Puerto Angel early in the morning as it looked like the wind would pipe up in the afternoon as we approached Huatulco, situated on the fringe of Tehuantepec where a gale is blowing.  Along the way we saw hundreds, yes, hundreds, of dolphins doing spinning jumps way out of the water as they hunted schools of fish in packs. I have never seen so many and it was very impressive to watch. Sea turtles appeared about every quarter mile, like floating stone markers.

The seas grew larger and steepened as we drew closer to the Gulf, propelled by the strong winds and huge seas farther away and further offshore. We had a 10 knot wind right on the nose, so were motoring. It turned out to be quite the uphill bash that let us know what gear we hadn't stowed properly and gave us four hours of practice keeping our balance. I'm very grateful that both of us only rarely get seasick.

We arrived at Marina Chahue here in Huatulco around 12:30 this afternoon. The multiple little bays of Huatulco that we passed along the way looked very pretty, with beautiful yellow sand beaches with scenic cliffs and offshore rocks. I would have liked to have visited a couple of them, but our weather window for crossing the Gulf looks to open up on Monday and they only last for a few days at most this time of year. We need to refuel and get a big load of laundry done before we leave.

We walked to the nearby town of Crucecita, about a mile away, this afternoon. We were amazed by how nice the town is, very clean with broad boulevards, nice landscaping, thoughtful architecture and solid infrastructure. We had a really nice lunch at an Italian restaurant and walked around the main square afterwards. We wondered why the town is so well organized and apparently quite affluent. Our question was answered during a conversation with a very articulate gentlemen who worked at a shop selling hand woven local textiles. He explained that about 30 years ago, the Mexican government wanted to repeat the economic development success of Cancun on the Pacific Coast. Huatulco was chosen as the location and its town center, Crucecita, was literally hacked out of the jungle. Unlike Cancun, which was allowed to develop with few restraints, Crucecita has regulations for architectural style, set backs, height limitations, etc. The result is an attractive, clean, pedestrian-friendly small town with lots of small hotels and nice restaurants. I'm surprised I never heard of it before or know anyone who's ever been here.  The town, together with the nearby beautiful little bays would be very nice place for a vacation.

Puerto Angel's harbor with Intermezzo anchored in the distance
A small taqueria in Crucetita

Part of a sign for a small restaurant in Crucecita...the other half makes it arguably obscene

Video: How they beach pangas in Puerto Angel

Video: Bashing to Huatulco

Puerto Angel: Catch Up Pictures

Limited bandwidth prevented me from including pictures with some recent blog postings. Here's a few to catch up and illustrate my narratives:

My belated birthday beer, thanks to Hannah!

Yep, you can get fresh produce in Mexico and yes, we eat healthy on Intermezzo. Except for the occasional poisonous roadside tamale.

Intermezzo's helm at night, a big full moon looking ridiculously tiny ahead

Following the moon path on the sea

Red sun in the morning...sailor's know what that means. Drawing closer to the Gulf of Tehuantepec, where a gale is blowing.

Friday, February 26, 2016

Puerto Angeles: Giant White Sea Snakes, R Scores

Yesterday was long day's mostly motoring again in hot, sunny, calm conditions. We managed to sail slowly downwind on the Code 0 for a few hours escape from engine noise. I had a nice salad for dinner.

This time when I came on watch at 2100, the moon hadn't risen yet and it was very dark out.     Sailing in the dark makes me more vigilant about checking safety gear and making sure the boat is properly sorted out; I confess to being a bit lax when the moon is shining brightly. While I was neatening up some lines, I looked over the side of the boat and was taken aback by the sight of a huge white sea snake slithering rapidly on the surface towards me. It was about 20 feet long, it's head the diameter of a dinner plate, it's body tapering to thin tale.  I'd never seen or heard of a such a creature before and, frankly, it frightened me a little. Then I thought, oh, it's just the foam from a strange wave. Wrong. A half dozen more giant white sea snakes were heading rapidly my way, like an army of basilisks out of Harry Potter!

I leaned over the side of the boat to get a closer look at, as I am prone to doing when dangerous creatures, like orcas, come alongside. Upon inspection, it turned out that the sea snakes were really the long white bubble and foam wakes from a bunch of dolphins swimming fast, just inches below the surface, who decided to pay Intermezzo a nocturnal visit. So much for discovering a new species of marine life, but I admit to being happy that there aren't giant white sea snakes swimming out there at night. I went up to the bow to watch the dolphins play in the glow of the red and green navigation lights.  They had a blast and I enjoyed watching them.

As we drew near to Puerto Angeles, Renee had her fishing lines and scored another catch, a small skipjack tuna. It was filleted 30 minutes later after anchoring. Guess what's for dinner tonight?

Puerto Angeles is a pretty little harbor with a couple of nice, small beaches, a few palapa restaurants and a big ugly concrete dock.

We're heading off to explore and grab some lunch now. 

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Acapulco to Puerto Angel: Birthday Beer, Moonlight Sea, Light Airs, Dolphins

Via satellite

We left Acapulco around 1530 yesterday under a hot sun, light winds and smooth seas.

My stomach finally felt good enough to crack open the big 1 pint 6 ounce bottle of Lagunitas IPA that Hannah brought with her to Puerto Vallarta and I have been saving for my birthday. It was absolutely delicious and I enjoyed it immensely. The beer was followed by a chocolate cupcake that Renee had bought me, complete with candle and singing. A belated birthday celebration, enjoyed all the more by feeling well again.

A nearly full moon rose shortly after the sun set.

Coming on watch at 2100, the diffusion of the moonlight makes the air seem thick, with a mist that isn't really there. The water feels thick, the color of liquid steel, the surface undulating. The moon's light splays out on the water like a beacon, a few stars struggle to be seen through its brightness. There is the barest hint of land in the distance, only a dim light or two. The diesel quietly throbs along with the quiet rush of water as it streams past the stern and little wavelets splash from the sides of the hull. A gentle salt-scented wind, due more from the boat's movement through the thick air than a breeze of its own accord, cools my skin. Our presence wakes a resting dolphin, who stirs, making rings of ripples like a pebble dropped water, takes a silent breath, making a gentle arc with its glistening black body, slipping out of and back through the surface. I feel peaceful, aware, a happy speck gliding along in the immensity of the sea and sky.

On my next watch at 0300, the wind has built to 8-10 knots coming from slightly ahead of the beam. We raise the mainsail with two reefs, so that it won't shadow the Code 0, which we unfurl next. With the wind at nine knots at 60 degrees apparent, we're sailing at over seven knots over the bottom. I figure there must be a favorable current of over two knots helping us along. Even when the wind drops to less than five knots, we're still moving at over four! We enjoy quiet, calm peaceful sailing until 0600, when the wind disappears and we have to start an engine and live with the constant throb. Fortunately, our engines are pretty quiet and some distance from the helm and living quarters.

Around noon today, a pod of about two dozen dolphins paid us a visit, racing each other across the sea to intercept us and then flaring parallel with us to swim between the bows. They swim only a few feet below the surface and twist themselves to take a look at us watching them from above. After they have a little fun, they dive and peel off to resume whatever it was they were doing before we showed up.

It's very hot. But there is enough wind for us to sail through the calm, blue sea in peace and quiet, save for the sounds of the hulls through the water and the occasional boat noise from the sail and lines.

We have about another 17 hours left on this passage.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Acapulco: Close Calls With Fishing Boats, Machismo Docking, and a Tired, Disillusioned Woman

Our Zihuatanejo to Acapulco went well, the night passage under a full moon.

We had to dodge fishing boats twice in the middle of the night, the first time a much closer call than I would have liked. Renee was on watch, tracking the boat visually and on radar. It was ahead of us and heading in our direction, but tracking to pass us a safe distance to starboard. As it closed to about 2 miles distant, it suddenly altered course to head directly for us on a collision course. Renee woke me up, as per our standing "skipper's instructions" and I groggily assessed the situation. I woke up quickly when I saw the red and green lights of the vessel coming at us at a combined relative speed of 20 knots!

Both Renee and I wondered why the vessel altered its course towards us, perhaps with evil intent, but we didn't have time to ponder that question. Also the boat was showing lights for a fishing vessel engaged in fishing and was fully lit up. A good disguise for a pirate ship perhaps, but hardly likely.

We were flying the Code 0, heading nearly dead downwind, so we didn't have much room or speed with which to maneuver. I fired up the diesels, opened up the throttles and turned deliberately to starboard, the official COLREGS collision avoidance maneuver for vessels meeting head on that all mariners should have committed to memory, hopefully including mariners on Mexican fishing vessels. As we turned, the Code 0 backwinded around the forestay and looked ugly as we motored quickly out of the fishing vessel's path, which passed us less than 300 yards off our port side, steaming at 12 knots with all its fishing gear streaming behind it. Collision was successfully averted and thanks to the light winds, the Code 0 unwrapped itself with no problem when we returned to our course. I returned to my bunk shortly afterwards and fell back asleep, glad that our "skippers instructions" served us well, thankful for our reliable diesels and satisfied with how we handled and responded to the situation in the middle of the night.

The dodging of the second fishing vessel occurred a couple of hours later when I came on watch. It wasn't anywhere near as dramatic, but I figured we must be in a fishing boat lane and decided it would be better to head a couple of miles further offshore and get out of their way.

We arrived at the Boca Chica (little mouth) entrance to Acapulco harbor at about 10 am in beautiful sunshine and a nice breeze. We hadn't made any arrangements for where Intermezzo would stay in the harbor, led to believe that there were lots of mooring balls available outside several marinas. We discovered that not to be the case and were not successful in contacting marinas by cellphone or VHF to find our what our options were. So we puttered around the outside of the Club de Yates and Marina Acapulco surveying the situation. Club de Yates has a good reputation, but I couldn't see a good temporary stopping place to leave Intermezzo while we made inquiries. The occupied mooring balls outside the club's marina were too close together for us to temporarily drop anchor and the fuel dock looked like a tricky Med moor situation against a gnarly fixed concrete dock. So we slowly motored over to Marina Acapulco, where we saw lots of room to side tie along a nice new concrete floating dock.

As we approached, we were noticed by marina staff and men working on the yachts in the marina and as I maneuvered Intermezzo alongside there were half a dozen guys waiting to take her lines.  This sort of hospitality and helpfulness is common in Mexican marinas and we appreciate it, but Renee and I have a well-practiced docking sequence and it less risky for Renee to handle the lines than to hand them to strangers not familiar with how we do things. In machismo Mexico, this is sometimes a bit of a struggle for Renee when she insists on handling the critical stern line that we use to spring Intermezzo onto the dock under mens' gazes of objection. This time, she tactfully let one of the guys handle the less critical bow line and then, when Intermezzo was stable on the dock, handed the stern line to another guy to do the grunt work of sweating us in closer against a decent off-dock breeze. Machismo preserved, Renee saved from grunting. Of course, I need to maintain my command position at the helm during all this line work, hydrating myself frequently with sips of cold beer. I can say with confidence that I do not suffer from machismo and am a strong proponent for women taking on anything and everything they want to...especially things I don't want to do when it's really hot out.

Within minutes after docking, we found we were welcome to stay overnight in our space for $42, a great rate in a big city. The marina is pretty nice and very secure, perfect for a short stay.

Acapulco is in a beautiful setting, but seems to be a tired city, aware and sad of its decline over the last two decades. From the 1950's to 1990's, Acapulco was a prime tourist destination. Poor urban planning, overbuilding, drug wars and gangs have taken their toll on the city since. There are lots of old empty hotels, unfinished new buildings and the streets I walked through worn and dirty, the people seem hunkered down and unhappy. It's as if the city went from being a beautiful romantic young modern woman descended from a good colonial family to a tired, disillusioned old one who has suffered through some really bad marriages. A sad story. It would take monumental political and social commitments and billions of dollars to bring beauty back to this city. It's not impossible, as I've witnessed the dark decline of New York City and its wonderful rebirth over the course of my lifetime. I hope Acapulco is as fortunate someday.

I had a nice dinner with three other yatistas at the Club de Yates last night, while Renee stayed on the boat recuperating from a mild case of overheating and dehydration. One of my dining partners is heading out to the South Pacific on Thursday, the other two are on the same general route as us, but sailing at a faster pace, aiming to be in Washington DC by the summer.

This afternoon we set sail for Puerto Angel, about 210 nm further down the coast. We should arrive sometime Friday morning.  It looks like a pretty easy sail with light winds most of the way. Towards the end, though, we should start feeling the Gulf of Tehuantepec winds, where a gale is building.

Sunset underway to Acapulco from Zihuatanejo
Coastal scenery at dusk off the Morro de Papanoa enroute to Acapulco

Acapulco harbor

Monday, February 22, 2016

Zihuantanejo to Acupulco

We left Zihua just before noon, a bit later than planned due to the effort required to break free the stern anchor we set to keep Intermezzo's bow into the swell. We had just enough chain on the bow anchor to be able to back down and get on top of the stern anchor to break it free with the engines. With just a 1:1 scope, it took both engines ahead at 1,800 rpm to break the Fortress FX-37 anchor free, the stern cleat groaning a bit under the load. That's a good anchor.

Winds were light all day, so we motored, boosted by a favorable current I estimate to be close to 2 knots. Around 18:00, the wind increased, just like the PredictWind weather routing software said it would, and we hoisted the Code 0 and enjoyed a quiet dinner.

I didn't do much to celebrate my birthday today. Renee cooked me a nice birthday breakfast, which I thoroughly enjoyed eating but suffered from later in the day. My stomach is getting better, but I think it is still irritated and it definitely doesn't feel good after I eat. It wasn't until dinner time that I felt like eating anything. The worse thing, though, was that I couldn't drink the Lagunitas IPA that Hannah brought me which I have been saving for my birthday. As soon as my stomach feels normal again, I'm going to enjoy that beer immensely. We had decent cell service most of the day, so I also enjoyed reading birthday wishes via email and Facebook. Much appreciated, friends and family.

It was a good thing that we had to motor most of the day, as we needed to charge the batteries and make water. The solar panels aren't quite up to keeping the batteries fully charged in such hot weather, as the fridge compressor runs much more frequently. We're going to have to pay much closer attention to the batteries so that we don't diminish their lives by chronically undercharging them. I'm glad I bought that little booster gas generator.

Time to turn in for a nap. Renee has given me an extra hour before I have to start my watch. Nice birthday gift!

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Zihuatanejo, Blah, Hair and Passage Planning

Almost a wasted day for me here in Zihua. My stomach just isn't right and protests while I'm standing upright in the heat. So I laid down in the heat most of the day. Blah.

Still, I managed to get a haircut. It looks okay, but the person cut it thought it should be combed forward, while I normally comb back. Somehow I think it makes me look a bit like Paul Ryan, but without his widow's peak, more forehead, and a better tan. Oh, and he colors his hair; I don't need to.  I'll give this look a go. The good thing about sailing is that all you have to really do is manage your hair. There's no reason to do anything else. It's just going to get wet, wind blown, salty, slept on...

I've started planning our passage south. We want to be leaving Mexican waters by the middle of next month to start the Central America leg of the voyage. To do that we have about 600 nm to sail, including crossing the notorious Gulfo de Tehuantepec. This body of water is subject gale force winds that blow from the Gulf of Mexico, across and over a narrow isthmus of land and blast down onto the Pacific, resulting in high winds and huge seas. We need to wait for a good weather window to cross this body of water. Sometimes the gales can blow for two weeks before they let up, as they are forecast to do so right now.

Our plan is to head from here to Acapulco, where we will make a short rest stop and satisfy Renee's need to shop at Costco. Then we'll head to Bahias de Huatulco, located at the north end of the Tehuantepec and wait the two day weather window we need to cross the gulf. Once the weather's good, we'll go like hell, sticking to the calmer waters along the shore to reach the safe harbor at Puerto Chiapas at the south end. Once safe in Chiapas, we figure on taking another road trip to see this part of Mexico, which everyone we met who has been there says is one of the most beautiful parts of Mexico.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Zihuatanejo, Steering Clank Mystery Solved

We motored the short distance between the Ixtapa marina and Bahía de Zihuatanejo yesterday after giving Intermezzo a quick freshwater rinse and filling her fuel tanks.

We decided to anchor in the Playa de Ropa side of the bay, across from the main town in much cleaner water, less crowded and less traffic. It will be a longer dinghy ride when we want to go into town, the better quality of life afloat is worth it.

This part of the bay is open to the prevailing swells from the ocean beyond. Yesterday and last night we experienced a bit more rolling than we would like, as the wind clocked from a sea breeze to a land breeze and Intermezzo swung on her anchor to lie broadside to the swell. So this morning we set a second stern anchor using the dinghy to keep the bow pointed into the swell and life aboard is comfortable again.

After setting the anchor, Renee and I got to work to figure out the source of the mild clanking sound that has started coming from the steering system. I crawled into the utility "room" behind the helm and inspected the steering sprockets, chains and wires. All looked good, except the sprocket for the autopilot was a bit loose. I tightened it, but that didn't eliminate the noise. Renee turned the wheel dozens of times as I listened carefully from behind it to try and figure where the noise was coming from. I don't know what possessed Renee to look into the tiny hole in the steering shaft for the wheel brake knob, but she saw a small piece of metal that moved from one side of the hole to the other as the wheel was turned and the source of the little clank every 180 degrees. Nice job, Renee! I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have thought to have looked into that little tiny 3/16 inch diameter hole for the problem and the source of the noise would still be a mystery.

I examined this piece of metal more closely and figured out that it was the rod that the wheel brake nob pushes against to engage the brake. The rod was badly gouged, probably from turning the wheel while the brake was engaged. The force exerted on it must have caused the pin to come loose from the holes into which it is press-fit and it now moves back and forth as the wheel is turned.  The bad news is that we will have to disassemble the entire wheel system to replace this rod. The good news is that the wheel brake still works fine and it isn't an essential component of the steering system. We just have to put up with the little clank-clank-clank noise while underway, like a rattle from a car glove compartment. Freaking annoying, if you can't get over it.

I know Intermezzo's systems very well, we have a good set of tools and spare parts and we are both pretty handy, with engineering backgrounds. Yet when something goes wrong, I still haven't gotten completely comfortable with not having access to the marine expertise and supply/repair facilities like I'm used to back home. Sometimes there is just no other option but to persevere and figure out how to fix it, even if it has to be a boer maak 'n plan (google those words if you don't know what they mean).

We hung out on the boat during afternoon heat (high daily temperature is over 90 degrees F from about noon to five p.m.). When it started to cool down around 5:30, we took the dinghy, anchored it 30 yards off the beach beyond the break line, swam to the beach and went running. The sand here is nice and soft, much easier on bare feet than other beaches I have run on in Mexico. We cooled down after our exercise with cold beer at a beach front restaurant and watched the sunset. The sun sets right across the narrow opening of the bay and both this evening's and last have been really lovely.

Zihuatanejo sunset

Bahía de Zihuatanejo anchorage with town beyond at night

Monday, February 15, 2016

Driving in Mexico Addendum

Okay, so I described my experience driving in Mexico in a recent blog post, but what I saw yesterday deserves special mention. While driving on the toll road from Pátzcuaro to Ixtapa a car coming from the opposite direction passed another vehicle on a curve, crossing the double yellow line. The other vehicle pulled to the shoulder to give some room for this dicey maneuver and avoid a head-on collision with us. This isn't unusual on Mexican roads and normally not worth of comment. Except that the car that pulled to the shoulder to let the other car pass was a Michoacan State Police vehicle! Why they waste paint on double yellow lines, I don't know.

Morelia, Butterflies and Pátzcuaro Redux

We're back on Intermezzo after our road trip through the Michoacan highlands. Disturbing news from a close friend and a bout of food poisoning took the wind out of my sails for writing over the past few days. But things are now better on both fronts and there is a lot to write about, so I'm back in the saddle again...and clearly full of clichés.

We drove through pretty countryside from Pátzcuaro to Michoacan's state capital, Morelia, on Wednesday. We stopped at the small town of Tupátaro not far out of Pátzcuaro to visit a church that we learned about from a tourist brochure. When we entered the town, we were set upon by lots of young men in drag, apparently still celebrating Carnaval and quite drunk. At first they were pretty aggressive, but when I told them we had come to go to church, they backed off and seemed respectful. I pushed my luck a bit by telling one of they guys that he was a "muchacha bonita", but he took the complement well, calling me "Papi" (daddy). A bit weird, but all in good fun.

The church in Tupátero is from the 17th century and doesn't look like much from the outside. Inside however, is a beautiful baroque design, executed with fine craftsmanship and lovingly maintained. It seems to sit in the middle of nowhere, but I guess the Spanish landowner of the time wanted to have a church in his town that would compare well with the larger ones in Pátzcuaro and Morelia. If so, he succeeded by focusing his money and interest on the interior and creating an amazing space, even if the exterior is drab.  I'm sure many have gasped in surprise as they walked through the doors.

We arrived in Morelia in the afternoon and stayed in a serviceable Airbnb in the heart of the city's historic colonial center. We spent the evening and the following day walking around and visiting a few churches and several museums. The center of the city is filled grand churches, palaces, libraries, theaters, fountains, plazas, even an aqueduct,  all dominated by the massive cathedral. The pope is visiting Morelia on February 16, so between anticipation of his visit and all the goings on around Lent, local Catholicism was hopping in full swing.

I found Morelia historically interesting and the buildings impressive, but I also found the big, thick, heavy stone structures to be oppressive, like they were always looming over me. Maybe that was the intent, to remind the people that lived their that God was watching over them and they better behave...or else. Maybe it was overcompensation towards replicating, or even trying to surpass, the cities they left back home in Spain. In any case, the fixed aspects of the city all seemed very heavy to me. I found relief to this heaviness in all the young people around the city, laughing, hanging out in cafes, running to class, couples holding hands on the street and kissing while tucked away in an archway. Morelia is a big university town, abundant with students, and is the big city of Michoacan, the place to go if you want a good dinner or go to a play.

The next stop on our Michoacan itinerary was the Santuario Mariposa Monarca (Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary) about a four hour drive away. To give us most of a day in the sanctuary, we left Morelia on Friday morning to drive to the small town of Zitácuaro near the sanctuary to stay overnight and get an early start the next morning. We left Morelia a bit later in the morning than planned due to a dead rental car battery. My Spanish vocabulary is pretty good, but if does not include "I need a jump" or "jumper cables"  and I think that literal translation from English would come out as, "I need to jump rope". However, making squeezing motions with my hands while moving them back and forth in front of a car with its hood open seemed to be quickly understood and I was very grateful for the helpful assistance provided by friendly strangers. That is something you can count on in Mexico.

Zitácuaro is a unremarkable town. We stayed in a relatively nice hotel and had a great seafood dinner in one of the best restaurants in town. The owners of the restaurant also own the fish market, so everything was fresh, well-prepared and enthusiastically served, including some dishes we didn't order, "on the house". I enjoyed a couple of glasses of tequila reposado, a liquor for which I am growing a taste, thanks in no small measure to Intermezzo crew members Jeanne and Marci. We walked to and from the hotel and restaurant located across town from each other. On the way to the restaurant, we walked through residential neighborhoods and were surprised to see that many of the homes had electric fences installed on top of their perimeter walls and roof parapets. Now that's hardcore security! We walked back on the main road in the dark. Again, the whole security issue is a puzzle to me. Again, we never felt unsafe, yet the electric fences are unsettling, as was the bright red $80,000 Audi parked in a very modest neighborhood and police trucks with .30 caliber machine guns mounted on them, locked and loaded. I guess shit must happen sometimes.

The butterfly sanctuary was amazing. To give ourselves more time among the butterflies, we rented horses to help us up the steep climb up the mountain through the forest. We walked a good portion of the trail both ways, but the horses allowed us to keep moving when we would otherwise need to take a breather, especially on the steepest parts of the trail.  The trail winds through dense, mostly second-growth fir forest, very quiet and pleasantly cool. Our first exposure to the butterflies was when we arrived at a clearing and thousands were flying everywhere in the bright sunshine, their orange color flickering in the light. That sight in itself would have been impressive, more butterflies than I have ever seen in the wild.  But further up the mountain among the oyenal fir trees on which the butterflies feed and cluster upon, there were tens of thousands of butterflies in an area I estimate to be about two steeply sloped acres. Many were flying. Many more were resting, hanging in huge clumps together from the branches of the trees.

These Mexican highlands are where the monarchs spend their winter hibernation, after their long migration from the Great Lakes region of the U.S. and Canada. It takes three to five generations of butterflies, living one to eight months each, to complete the entire 5,400 mile round trip journey each year,  considered to be one of the most complex animal migrations in the world.

The site of so many beautifully colored creatures, fluttering in and out beams of sunlight filtering through the trees is a magnificent display of nature's beauty and their annual migration is deserving of the term epic to describe it. Yet what left the biggest imprint on me and I will always remember is the sound that tens of thousands butterflies make when they fly. It is a gentle, quiet hissing sound, a very quiet white noise, very peaceful and calming. It is to me as if the butterflies make their migration so as to gather and create a temporary living work of art, flickering like little golden-orange tapestries among a background of dark green firs and bathing the forest in the gentle sound they make together. No still photograph can capture this spectacle. Videos gives a sense, but fall far short; I posted a couple on Youtube, here and here (they are low resolution due to limited bandwidth to upload). It's a performance to be experienced live.

We made our way back down the mountain on combination foot and horseback in the afternoon to get back to the car and start our drive back to Ixtapa, with an overnight stay back in Pátzcuaro along the way.  We were really dusty from the trail and an old woman helped us access a pipe to wash up a little before we got in the car. Renee wanted to show our gratitude for her help and bought two tamales from her little stand. We should have considered all the circumstances before we ate those tamales- the source of heat for the pot was only a small fire, it was late in the day, the tamales weren't hot...basically they had been incubating all day. They didn't taste good but since we paid good money for them (10 pesos, 0.60 cents), we ate them anyway. Idiots. I started feeling a bit sick about an hour away from Pátzcuaro and nearly didn't make it to our lodging. As soon as I arrived, I was violently sick. An hour later, I heard Renee wretching with gusto. Thankfully, I recovered fairly well by morning to finish the drive to Ixtapa. Renee is taking longer and is still feeling miserable as I write this. Hopefully she will be better soon. Lesson learned, the hard way.

One final story about Pátzcuaro, before I end this blog post. There is a place in town called La Casa de los Once Patios (House of the Eleven Patios). This former convent is a showplace for regional artisanal handicrafts and and folk art, each patio specializing in a particular craft. It's a nice place to visit, but more significant to me, it is a reminder of a period of local history where good triumphed following evil, a story that takes up a good portion of Juan O'Gorman's historical mural in the library (described in my previous post). 

Nuño de Guzmán arrived in Pátzcuaro in 1529. He was a very cruel conquistador who inflicted terrible pain and suffering upon the local indigenous people. He was so inhumane that he was sent back to Spain. Bishop Vasco de Quiroga was dispatched in 1536 to clean up the mess Guzmán left behind. Influenced by the humanitarian ideals of Sir Thomas More's "Utopia", Quiroga pioneered village cooperatives and encouraged education and agricultural self-sufficiency among the local people to lessen their dependence on Spanish mining lords and landowners. He also helped each village in the Pátzcuaro region develop its own craft speciality. Thus, the historical connection with today's La Casa de los Once Patios and an uplifting story of a man doing good after another's cruelty, albeit with the motivation of converting the indigenous population to Christianity.  Bishop Quiroga is venerated for his accomplishments in Michoacan and there are lots of streets, plazas, and buildings named Vasco and Quiroga. Needless to say, I haven't seen any named Guzmán.

The exterior of the church in Tupátero with the amazing baroque interior (no photographs allowed inside)

Michoacan landscape on the drive to Morelia

Getting the streets prettied up for the upcoming Pope's visit to Morelia 

Morelia street

Santuario de Guadalupe, Morelia

Dome of Sanctuario de Guadalupe

Morelia pedestrian thoroughfare

Enjoying a local IPA beer while gazing in amazement at bottles of mezcal at Tata mezcalaría

Morelia cathedral at night

Plaza San Augustine on Ash Wednesday

Painting by Rafael Flores in the Palacio Clavijero museum

Morelia through a window

Electric fence home security in Zitácuaro
Palm flower in Zitácuaro

On the trail in the Monarch Sanctuary
Renee on horseback in the butterfly sanctuary
Monarch tapestry in the firs

Monarch's clumped together to rest and stay warm

Casa de los Once Patios, Pátzcuaro

Casa de los Once Patios, Pátzcuaro

One of the patios with specialized handicrafts, this one locally built guitars and other instruments.

Section on Juan O'Gorman's mural depicting the barbarity of Guzmán and the humanitarian efforts of Vasco

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Patzcuaro, Mardi Gras

We embarked upon another land trip this morning, leaving Intermezzo in the marina, picking up a rental car at the Ixtapa airport and setting out for the village of Patzcuaro up in the Michoacan highlands.

We drove alongside several large lakes through arid hills on the cuoata (toll) road. It's the main highway in this region, only a two lane road, but with wide shoulders. Faster vehicles are constantly passing slower vehicles in both directions, pretty much regardless of curves, double yellow lines or no passing signs. You would think it would be terribly dangerous, but it's not. Slower vehicles pull to the right and indicate with their left turn signal that it's safe for you to pass, although sometimes that means there is a hazard ahead on the shoulder and they are going to veer into you. Situational awareness is essential. Two trucks and two cars (one of each going in opposite directions) can fit simultaneously across the right-of-way without the passing cars hitting each other head on, if everyone steers skillfully and cooperates. I know this from firsthand experience.  I appreciated that nobody was texting while driving on this road.

Patzcuaro is a beautiful small colonial town. It was the capital of the Tarasco people from 1325 to 1400 AD. The Tarascos developed one of Mexico's most advanced civilizations which successfully repulsed invasions from neighboring Aztecs, but like many others, were no match for the Spanish when they arrived in 1522.  The local indigenous people who live in this region, the Purépecha, are their direct descendants. The indigenous origins of many of the people in town are apparent in their complexion, facial features and short stature. The city's colonial streets, plazas, churches and buildings are well-preserved in a very authentic, utilitarian way.  It's not like the restorations of old towns you often see that result from gentrification or for Disney Land tourism.  The streets are filled with local people and we saw only a few tourists as we walked around town.

We are staying at Casa de Nana Ree booked via Airbnd. It is a beautiful house and we have the whole place to ourselves- living room, kitchen, patio, rooftop terrace- as well as our own huge bedroom and bathroom, all for $60.  The furniture and decor is all in the local rustic style, very colorful with lots of rough sawn wood and handmade tiles. I could definitely enjoy living here!

It's cold though! Yesterday we were sweltering as we walked the streets of Zihuantanejo in 90 degree sunshine to check in Intermezzo with the Port Captain. When we arrived in Patzcuaro at 1:30 pm today, it was only 58 degrees...and it will fall to 43 degrees tonight. That's quite a difference and, while we packed long pants and sweaters, we could do with jackets and Renee's feet are cold as she only brought sandals, no shoes or socks.

We visited the Biblioteca (Library) Gertrudas Bocanegra, housed in a former 16th century convent. The library has a very small collection of books and is a throwback in time. I haven't seen a paper card catalog in a library in years. There was a very fine set of encyclopedia, with impressive color pictures and foldout maps...published in 1922. The main reason for our visit, though, was to see the mural depicting Michoacan history from the Tarascan creation myth through the Mexican revolution. It is a very interesting mural by an Irish-Mexican architect-painter, Juan O'Gorman. The story of how the mural ended up in this library is also very interesting.

Edgar Kaufmann was the prominent Pittsburgh businessman and philanthropist who commissioned architect Frank Lloyd Wright to design his famous Fallingwater house. Kaufmann paid O'Gorman 9,000 pesos to paint a mural for Fallingwater. However, O'Gorman's leftist politics somehow prevented him from being able to paint the mural there. So Kaufmann told O'Gorman to go ahead an paint a mural wherever he wanted to in Mexico. He chose to paint one in the Patzcuaro biblioteca. I think that was really nice of Mr. Kaufmann.

As we were resting in our room after an early dinner, we started hearing bangs from fireworks. That isn't so unusual in Mexico on any given day as they seem to be set off at random as well as for weddings, fiestas and church processions. When we ventured out for a walk, we noticed lots of people heading to the main plaza that's just a few blocks from where we are staying. When we arrived there, there was a stage with a band playing and he place was packed with people waiting in excited anticipation.

I asked the guy next to me, "Cual es el nombre de este fiesta?" He seemed a little surprised at my question, but answered politiely, "Es Carnival." Duh. Today is Mardi Gras, Carnival in Spanish-speaking countries.

In Patzcuaro they celebrate Carnival with processions centered around a colorful bull and featuring men dressed as sexy women in tight tops and short skirts.  There are eight competing bull processions with, in addition to the hot lady-men, people dancing in a crazy array of costumes including clowns, military commandos, banditos and even "El Chapo", the recently recaptured Mexican drug lord. Lots of fireworks and firecrackers are set off as the processions dance their way through the crowd of spectators. It is certainly unique and fun to watch.

After watching the Carnival, I bought Renee a hot chocolate to warm her feet and we took a short walk through the dark streets near the cathedral. Again, it is hard to get a grip on the reality of security in Mexico. Here we are in a state regarded as one of the most dangerous in Mexico, yet the streets of this town are safe to walk and park your car on at night with no worries. We drove for hours the through peaceful, normal countryside. But then twice on the way driving here we saw heavily armed squads of military and paramilitary forces on the side of the road. My gut sense is that it is very safe here if you stick to main towns and thoroughfares, avoid traveling the roads at night, keep your eyes open and don't linger if things look sketchy.

What I am sure of is I really like this country and its people.

Pitzcauro street

Courtyard of Hotel Ibarra, where we ate dinner

Classic espresso machine at Hotel Ibarra, in daily use
Plaza Grande, Patzcuaro

Juan O'Gorman mural depicting Michoacan history in the Biblioteca
The card catalog of the Patzcuaro library

Teaching chess in the biblioteca


Carnival spectators

Lady-boys and fireworks

Beautiful Purépechan profile
One of the eight Carnival bulls

Patzcuaro streets at night

Patzcuaro at night

Patzcuaro at night