On Thursday we hunkered down on the boat, resting and reading most of the day. Then we had a “24” marathon over the next two days of 12 segments of the fourth season of that show (out of 24 segments, naturally). We had borrowed the 3rd, 4th, and 5th seasons from another cruiser and needed to give them back before heading north back to Barra de Navidad; so eventually we will have to find the 5th season somewhere else. We got into the show by watching a couple of segments of the first season, showing Jack Bauer saving the United States almost singlehandedly, but couldn’t find the second season before starting on the third. Then we found the second season in a Wal-Mart down here and will see that next. So we will be seeing the series in the sequence of 1, 3, 4, 2, 5 – not the best way to do it, but it beats Mexican TV. We play the DVD’s on our computer, but project the movies onto a larger screen and a set of speakers that we can swivel from the navigation table to the cabin area, where Sheilagh and I can both recline on separate settees to watch.
If you have ever seen “24” you are aware that every hourly segment ends as a cliffhanger; so Sheilagh and I usually go into a huddle after a couple of segments in an evening to decide if we should continue watching. Usually our tiredness prevails; so we typically see only two segments a night. Every once in a while we will see one of the movies we brought along, usually for the third or fourth time. We can buy Spanish movies in Mexico that display “Inglés” as one of the options on the outside of the case, but we’ve found the cost comparable to the cost in the states. We’ve also found that we have to reset my computer to another country code in order to play the movies we have purchased in Mexico. I understand that if we had purchased a state-of-the-art DVD we would be prevented from playing any movies purchased outside of the United States on it, due to this sort of security. What happened to being part of the international community?
By midnight on Saturday night we finished the fourth season of “24,” and were happy to see that the U.S. was saved from several terrorist plots – but only if the main character bypasses protocol. Naturally anyone in the chain of command above him will only “play it by the book,” and that doesn’t get the job done. As I look back on the career I had, I don’t recall the world applauding when I bypassed protocol to get something done, but I wasn’t saving the world at the time either. I think it is interesting how all of us seem to think we are mavericks, as we take the side of the protagonist in a movie; but I suspect that most of us in real life “play it by the book” to keep some semblance of order and consistency in what we do. The bottom line: I would certainly hate to have Hollywood in charge of protecting us from terrorists.
In one of our emails on Thursday or Friday from out daughter, Kimberly, in New York, she mentioned that the latest National Geographic Traveler had an article on Zihuatanejo, and she proceeded to list a number of restaurants and activities recommended by the article. We had been exposed to much of what she mentioned, but we had passed on seeing a museum showing artifacts from the early days of this Southwestern coast of Mexico. We decided we should get some culture on Saturday, so we proceeded to the museum where we paid our 10 pesos ($1) apiece and got to see a fairly summarized version of the history of this coast, along with artifacts that were found here. There is a strong resemblance to Indian artifacts we have seen in Western U.S. museums.
Apparently, there was trade between Mexico and the Philippines some 200 years prior to the coming of the Spanish, and possibly trade with China at the same time. We assume these were initiated by the countries in the far East, but we really couldn’t read much of the Spanish descriptions. Most of the text was in Spanish, but every so often the Spanish had been translated into English by someone who must have been using a Spanish/English dictionary and replacing each Spanish word with an English one from the dictionary. In other words the translations made very little syntactical sense; so we simply looked at the carvings and the bowls, beads, and other artistic renderings.
It occurred to me (in my offbeat way of looking at things) that the information we derive from archeological digs concerning ancient peoples and cultures is based on those individuals in society who were probably considered the artists of their day – the ones who didn’t hunt game or gather crops or create clothing, or carve the day-to-day utensils that were needed to survive. I picture a couple of hunters in a cave looking over the shoulder of an “artist” painting a mammoth on a wall and commenting as follows:
First Hunter: “Hey, Fred, does that look anything like the rabbit we killed yesterday. That makes us look as if we were battling a gigantic woolly mammoth.”
Second Hunter: “Yeah, Barnie, maybe Art should actually go hunting with us sometime so he can see what a rabbit looks like.”
Artist: “Look, you two, how about letting me get on with showing you as great hunters so posterity will think you really could kill something besides rabbits with those puny spears of yours.”
I can’t help but think that our interpretation of previous cultures has a lot to do with whether the artists of the time were good at their art. Were they attempting to capture realism (as the Renaissance masters did), or emotion (as the Impressionists did), or something from their imagination (as the Modernists attempted to do)? Were they any good at what they were doing, or were these the guys (or gals) who couldn’t carry their weight in the community? How did the community decide that certain of their number were to be fed and clothed while they sat around carving intricate bowls and figures of supposed gods? Were the artists the smart ones who figured out how to get by with minimal work, or were they the driven ones who generated art in their limited free time between hunting and fishing? Were these artistic individuals admired or ridiculed in their own time? Did the really great artwork get destroyed in sacrifices to the gods; so we are left with the second class artifacts?
As I read this to Sheilagh her comment was that I must be a “caveman” to even be questioning these things. Maybe I should stay out of museums in the future.
On the way back to the boat, we passed a tent-like structure with a sign reading “Massages – 300 pesos - hora (that’s $30 an hour and was a real bargain compared to the cost of massages in the hotels).” I decided to check it out; so the masseuse lifted up the skirt of the tent to let me in. There were two tables inside with just enough room around them to let the two masseuses work on two clients at a time. I stripped down to briefs and got a great massage, although the sound of people playing and shouting on the beach just outside was a bit of a distraction. This was not the gentle-music, aroma-therapy kind of massage, but it certainly worked out the knots in my muscles.
We had met Jill and Evan from the sailboat, Aprio, earlier in the week, and they invited us to dinner on Friday night. They have been cruising about a year longer than we have, and that was after five years of hard work restoring their ketch to its original luster – plus a water-maker, solar panels, AC-driven appliances and other modern conveniences. What we envied was the large stateroom at the aft end of the boat with a king-size bed and windows out the stern at the level of the bed; so they could see out without having to stand up and look out a port as we do. The awful truth for us is that neither of our sleeping areas is really large enough for both of us at the same time; so I have taken the forward berth as mine, and Sheilagh has taken the aft berth as hers.
Some will be shocked that after 38 years of marriage we now have separate bedrooms, but there are 5 good reasons for this setup:
5 – We can each stash our stuff in our own area,
4 – I can leave my area a bit messy and Sheilagh doesn’t have to see it (or comment on it),
3 – We can both stretch out without touching one another – important in a tropical environment,
2 – We can read in bed without waking the other one up,
1 – Conjugal visits are that much more interesting.
At any rate our visit with Jill (a former school district supervisor) and Evan (a lawyer) from the State of Washington was a real pleasure, since they have a lot of the same dreams, as well as concerns, that we do. Not only that, they are acting on their dreams as we are, which is a unique aspect of the cruising community that can’t be found in a rocking chair in front of the fire at home. We had them over the next night to try Sheilagh’s new recipe for flan made in a pressure cooker. We’ll certainly see them again in the future.
We learned that it would be easier to get our repaired autopilot shipped back to Barra de Navidad instead of Zihuatanejo; so we had nothing to keep us in Z-town. On Sunday we raised the anchor and moved the boat to a new anchorage at Isla Ixtapa (AKA Isla Grande), where the water is clearer than in the bay at Zihuatanejo; so we could clean the bottom of the boat before heading back north. I got out the hookah breathing apparatus and spent about 3 hours underwater scraping off the barnacles and using a Teflon pad to remove the plant growth. I became very popular with the local fish population as I fed them freshly broken-up barnacles and other tasty morsels from the underside of the boat.
I hadn’t cleaned the bottom for nearly two months, and I was amazed at the heavy growth on the propeller. In fact, on the way over to Isla Grande from Zihuatanejo I applied full power to the engine and could only get 2200 rpm and 5.5 knots. Afterwards, we could run the engine beyond 2500 rpm (normal cruising range is 2500-3000) and at that rpm setting we were getting 6.25 knots. Nothing beats a clean bottom on the boat, and I am now resolved to go over the side at least every two weeks to keep it that way. Sheilagh has not yet volunteered for this duty, but by my doing it, I get a lot of points that can be exchanged for not having to do dishes; so we are both satisfied.
We met our friends, Jim and Jan, from the motor vessel Mañana at Isla Grande, where Jim was also cleaning his boat – but with the use of SCUBA gear. We got together for drinks and snacks on their boat that evening and decided to buddy-boat north the next day as far as Caleta de Campos. The 3 hours underwater today so tired me out that I’m going to end this and continue the blog a few days from now. More later . . .
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C'mon dad, you HAD to know you'd raise some ire with your artist daughter with that last one. Or if not ire, than at least some questions for you. Why do you think artmaking is minimal/easy/unimportant work? I, and many others, would point out that it is extremely hard work physically, mentally, and emotionally. And why does it matter that it even be done? Is it not tangible evidence of a society made up of individuals reflecting on their aesthetics, values and culture? What do you think your blog is? By thinking about and translating your experience into a form that others can share, you are communicating your values, aesthetics, beliefs... you are separating out what is important to you, what moves you, and what you feel compelled to respond to. That material creates connections, arguments, discussions that help people think about what they think-- and who and what they are. Isn't that kind of the definition of being human-- self reflection? Did you know that in many early cultures there was no separation between the artist and the rest of society-- EVERYONE added decoration to what they made. Just like how you and bajillions of others blog-- for audiences of various sizes and types. Today there is of course a codified marketplace for 'fine art', as well as a separate one for 'crafts', and a whole legion of people set up to make money off the system. Those of us who are making a living being artists are making things no one asked for as if it matters... because sometimes what we make resounds with others in a way that moves them and leaves them changed, or at least thinking. And maybe it contributes an iota to an overall sense of who, how, and what we are-- maybe we can learn from each other, or at least take a rest from the world for a moment and get lost in something that came from another human being. I personally feel like part of a larger consciousness when I really respond to a piece of art-- a connection from one lonely human across time, space, and materials to another. So I guess after starting off kind of annoyed at your questions, I end up finding myself proud of you for engaging with the art of another time and creating your own. Yay. Thanks for making me put that into words. I love you! Stephie
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