Pacific Mexico – Page 2

Back to Paradise! (Paradise Village, Puerto Vallarta, Mx)

We returned on October 1st. (2016) to find Allora in great shape and began to put her back together, prepping to head south to explore Pacific Mexico and then Central America. Hurricane season technically ends on Nov. 30th, but we planned to slip away mid-month, while keeping a watchful eye on weather.

First thing we had to attend to was our malfunctioning Yanmar (inboard) engine. We’d been troubleshooting vexing problems and finally found the explanation!

Interpreting the codes on the SAD machine (which Carl, the Yanmar guru brought) hooked up to the common rail engine.

The gaskets to the fuel tanks weren’t made with fuel grade material, so rubber chunks were disintegrating and falling into our diesel supply.

The Yanmar TEAM! A solution we could be confident in!

Progressive Cocktail Party:
3pm till midnight
40 minute rounds
Themes – ours was ‘Africa’
Food/Cocktails
We were the last boat out of 12! That’s a LONG day.

This guy is up trimming the coconut palm using this ridiculously long ladder with no one to spot it.

Foresails all cleaned and going back up.

I talked them into letting us wash our sails on the resort stage!

We brought Namo, our dinghy, up the estuary and stopped at this fajita restaurant – just tied up the boat and walked up to dine!

Poor pelican 🙁 He was resting at the dock and just looked at me as I walked by.

Our favorite Canadian family (although there are a TON of them out here sailing!). These guys are from Victoria, BC, and are currently figuring out which direction to head next. Mama Sara’s the masterful captain aboard s/v RikiTikiTavi and has just been teaching at a private high school to add to the cruising fund. Pete is a wickedly fine chef and has an impressive canvas ‘shop’ on the deck of their boat; he’s producing some phenomenally functional bags, useful for just about everything. Check it out: http://puddlejumpbags.com

Liam being Liam. Meanwhile, a healthy game of ‘butt wrestling’ is going on in the background.

The indomitable (homemade) piñata! Still, we just might see candy on this one?!

I had what felt like an imperative urge to go and spend some time with Haley – to help her get her new apartment organized, etc. We had 3 VERY FULL days, including taking in the play, ‘Sleep No More,’ which Haley’s experienced 6 times!

Miss Lily Lightning! She knows her way around all the cool places in NYC!

These little markets are like galleries, with all the cool graphics and products. Lucky dog!

We texted Aunt Lori from this thrift shop to rave about all the great stock! Haley’s getting into vintage!!

Allora ended up spending 3.5 months of hurricane season in Paradise Village!

HURRICANE season

We’d thought about leaving Allora farther up the mainland in San Carlos/Guyamas in Sonora, but liked the idea of getting a jump start on the long distances left to cover in Mexico when we returned from Montana. In the end, it was a good thing, because hurricane Newton made it all the way up the Baja Peninsula and some boats in that marina were damaged. We had been staying in charming La Cruz for our Puerto Vallarta stint but moved farther inland to Paradise Village to leave Allora; Its estuary position in the lee of Cabo Corrientes provided more weather security. Summer in this part of the world is beyond description HOT! Our 2 month respite in Bozeman was strategically timed. When we left in August, nighttime temps in our cabin were up to 95 degrees, which necessitated the constant use of water spritzers. Time to head to the mountains!

We had to remove most of our food stores (local restaurants and the officina agreed to keep buckets of our provisions), shut off our refrigeration and ‘pickle’ our watermaker. Our foresails had to come down (in case of extreme winds) and we secured a large dehumidifier for below to preclude a problem with moisture. We had a local guy, Israel, come in and open up the boat and start the engine once a week. Cockroaches were discouraged from making Allora their home with some boric acid piles, but we pretty much knew that the Iguanas and the frigates might just cross our dock lines or perch high on the mast. It took a FULL week of non-stop dervishing (that should definitely be a verb) to feel ok about saying, ‘Adios, Allora, Que le vaya bien!’

Paradise Village Marina, Puerto Vallarta. Tropical afternoon storms are a welcome relief as we prep Allora in the steamy heat to be left for 2 months during hurricane season.

YIKES! Allora’s interior was mayhem as we had to tear the whole boat apart to secure the food and everything else from high temps and humidity.

Paradise Village Marina, Puerto Vallarta. A viable ‘hurricane hole.’

Secure AND pretty! Marcus is great with knots.

Allora, as we left her. If a hurricane should threaten, the guy we have watching her would take the awning down and monitor the conditions; meanwhile, one or both of us would fly in. Some cruisers do this commute every year between their boat base and their home base.

An unexpected month in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

A 65 year old man our neighbors in La Cruz knew as an eccentric

disappeared on the way to the Marquesas, he’d brought along a young woman to crew (23)

he was a purist (a derogative)

maybe he had a hand held GPS, maybe he didn’t have anything

it’s her family who noticed she was missing

his boat was slow, heavy and slow

it’s been 45 days,

the question is,

did he have water?

There are a lot of questions.

Dona Mari collects the recycling out of the trash bins every morning and afternoon and walks it on the cobblestone streets who knows how far. She's a hero. — Dona Mari collects the recycling out of the trash bins every morning and afternoon and walks it on the cobblestone streets who knows how far. She’s a hero.

It would definitely pay to be a contortionist for most every job aboard.

These two guys had all things diesel to talk about for two straight days.

Eric trying to make some sense of our predicament. — Eric (Santa Barbara Yanmar pro) trying to make some sense of our predicament.

Our new awning! One advantage to staying in the same place long enough.

Dancing horses, lathered, one bloodied nose

long shank spade bits, mechanical hackamores and spurs

Corona Light has cornered the market

a gringa sharing a saddle that’s a tight fit,

she looks unsure of her own reaction

the vaquero expects applause perhaps

for his kidnapping, but gets little reaction

the band blasts, their indefatigable armature

and you can feel they’ve been at it for hours

and its not even dark, an alcoholic marathon

a young girl slips among the crowded feet

collects beer cans, neatly empties them and fills plastic bags

a plywood stage shakes and buckles, but survives

the stopping of dancers feet

men with their hands behind their backs

the women solemnly parade the saint before dancing

swirling skirts white and red

an aztec dance with rattles on the ankles

looks oddly Egyptian

quarter sticks of dynamite randomly rattle the windows

up the dirty cobblestone street,

behind a cyclone fence blocked with plastic tarps

a pile of losers

roosters who lost their fights

a thin man spitting and strutting (rubbing his nose nervously or)

calls out the time, as spurs are strapped on

and the “trainers” stretch the Gallo’s legs and antagonize them to fight

the current champ cradled waiting in his owners arms

new birds arrive in specially designed cardboard boxes,

with convenient handles, and professional logos of roosters

a young woman tosses water melted from the ice to keep the dust down

you need a ticket to see more than the blur of feathers

when occasionally they leap above two foot board of the fighting ring

men, and a couple women, watch dispassionately

the announcer calls out the stages of death

still flapping wings, dropped in the pile of losers

a truck arrives with more boxes (MS)