Tuesday, December 30, 2008

December 26th (2008) – Paradise Village Marina in Nuevo Vallarta – Jim’s Blog #72

Current Location – Nuevo Vallarta – Lat: 20°41.49’ N / Long: 105°17.59’ W

Here it is the day after Christmas, and we are enjoying the 80° weather outside and the 78° temperature of the water in the pool. We’ve been listening to the news of the snowstorms in Canada and the northern part of the U.S., and feeling a little guilty about our own good fortune. The ABC cable channel being shown here is from Buffalo, New York, and every evening we seem to be watching snowplows clearing the streets and listening to talk of schools being closed. You can bet we’re thankful for the opportunity to avoid the cold weather we see there. At worst we have to pull a light blanket over ourselves in the wee hours of the morning to stay warm – and that’s with all the ports and hatches open.

While Sheilagh was gone, I took the opportunity to start getting in shape before making New Year’s resolutions in that regard. I started walking about 4 miles a day on the beach every other day, and alternating that with longer and longer swims in the lap pool. At the present time I’ve worked up to a mile in the water, which is 64 lengths of the pool and a LOT of time in the swimming lane. My stroke starts out pretty well, but gets very ragged by the end. Then I pull myself out of the pool, stumble over to the lounge chair, and get my strength back with a coke and a Snickers bar – seems like a good training regimen to me!

Sheilagh got back to Puerto Vallarta on Monday evening, after waiting more than an hour for the flight to take off. That was the day it was snowing in both Victoria, British Columbia, and in Seattle – something that occurs only every 20 years or so. Her airplane was waiting in San Francisco for flights to come in from the north to connect to her flight to Mexico. In fact the majority of tourists here seem to be from Canada. While US. Citizens can travel south in the United States to get warmer, Canadians seem to grab flights to Mexico – not only for warmth but also to take advantage of the strength of the Canadian dollar against the Mexican peso.

When Sheilagh got back, the full import of her mother’s death finally hit her, and we’ve been keeping a bit of a low profile during this holiday season. However, we did attend a couple of local functions to try to get into the spirit of the season. We attended a dinner and jazz night at the Vallarta Yacht Club, only to find that the jazz was neither Blues nor Dixieland, but that kind of off-the-cuff-rambling which only true jazz cognoscente can appreciate. It hardly needs to be said that we are not of that class of connoisseur.

We also attended the 60th birthday party of Alan (from “Serendipity”) put on by his wife, Rosie, at the Britannia Pub in La Cruz. Since they are British, they felt the party should take place in a British pub. In this case it was “open mike” night, and the bands were quite a bit better than the jazz band we had heard earlier in the week. Another cruising couple, Bill and Colleen (of the sailing vessel “Captain George Thomas”) gave us a ride over and back in their car; so we didn’t have to negotiate two buses going over and a cab ride back. It was an enjoyable evening, particularly when Alan danced in a pair of Wellington sailing boots and a black top hat, along with Rosie in a gorgeous red dress, with steps out of an Irish jig or a sailor’s hornpipe.

As usual we forgot our camera; so we have no pictures of these events. We are enclosing a picture of our boat with its Shade Tree covers, to show how we are handling the warm weather. You’ll notice we have the dinghy hoisted up on the side of the boat to keep the bottom out of the water when we’re not using it. We left the dinghy in the water for about a week, and it took an hour to scrape the tiny barnacles and green algae off the bottom. In an anchorage we hoist the dinghy up to discourage would-be dinghy/outboard “borrowers.” We’ve had no trouble yet, but it always pays to be careful. To steal our dinghy someone would have to climb up on our boat, cut the halyard, find a key, and then eventually get a cable cutter to separate the outboard engine and gas tank from the dinghy itself. All we have to do is make it a bit more difficult to steal our dinghy than someone else’s dinghy, and so far it’s worked.

Speaking of the dinghy reminds me that we took it up the inlets that thread the area following the path of the jungle cruises that go by us every day loaded with tourists. We were interested in seeing what kind of wildlife exists this close to civilization, and frankly there are warnings everywhere in the estuary to beware of "cocodrillos" (crocodiles), and we thought we might get a look at one. Sheilagh was not so sure she wanted to see one, because she has no confidence in the ability of our hypalon dinghy to withstand the bite of a crocodile, nor of her ability to swim to shore faster than I could to escape. However, all we saw was the iguana pictured above, and we have seen many of those in the past year.

We spent a completely relaxed Christmas Day watching old movies, communicating with our children and grandchildren through Skype on the computer, and eating excellent prime rib with apple pie that Sheilagh made. Today we just saw “West Side Story” and are now in the middle of “The Wolf Man” with Lon Chaney. I’m not sure what any of these have to do with Christmas, but they are a great way to avoid work and lay around writing a blog.

More later . . .

Saturday, December 20, 2008

December 19th (2008) – Paradise Village Marina in Nuevo Vallarta – Jim’s Blog #71

Current Location – Nuevo Vallarta – Lat: 20°41.49’ N / Long: 105°17.59’ W

[Be sure to check the newly updated pictures in the December 12th blog]

Today Sheilagh is up in San Jose for a memorial service for her mother, Kitty. All of our children are flying in to pay their respects, and they will get a chance to meet most of Sheilagh’s immediate family. Without realizing it, Kitty has brought the immediate family together this Christmas, allowing cousins to see one another who have not seen each other for years.

I’m staying here to keep an eye on the boat and to avoid the high cost of air travel, particularly when there is no bereavement allowance for sudden travel from the airlines serving Puerto Vallarta. I guess they don’t feel that folks who can vacation in Puerto Vallarta would need the advantage of emergency prices equivalent to those charged for plans made several weeks in advance.

I’ve been keeping busy learning to cook, doing laundry, waxing the boat, and raising the Shade Tree tent-like structure over the boat to keep it cooler inside. Every day I’ve been visiting the lap pool to get in some exercise and to relax with my IPod and a book. So far I’m up to two-thirds of a mile, although the last few laps are looking pretty ragged. Afterwards I read and listen to music for about half an hour before dozing off for an afternoon nap. It’s a tough way to spend time, but I’m dedicating myself to it.

A view up the mast, a closeup showing it was really me at the top, and a view looking down from the top of the mast

I also made it to the top of the mast a couple of times to install a new wind indicator and to refurbish the anemometer. I’m including some pictures looking down to show what it looks like from up there. We used the windless (anchor chain motor) to help lift me up; so we didn’t have to use any muscles to get me up there. We use an REI climbing harness connected to two separate halyards, using one as a backup in case the other fails.

This week I accompanied Alan and Rosie of “Serendipity” to the Britannia Pub in La Cruz to check it out for Alan’s birthday next Tuesday. Alan and Rosie have a Jaguar, which was so much better than a bus to get around, although the large speed bumps here in Mexico make it difficult for the Jag to get over without scraping. There are no “low riders” in Mexico, or they would get nowhere. There was an “open mike” night there and several made-up bands performed for the group. I believe there is an “open mike” night for volunteer musicians nearly every night of the week at one bar or another. There are a large number of cruisers with musical skills and musical instruments, who find places and times to get together, whether on a boat, in a pub, or on the beach.

I also accompanied Ed and Cornelia (of “A Cappella”) and Hank and Betsy (of “Equinox”) to a local symphony and choir presentation in Puerto Vallarta. Most of the musicians and choir members were gringos who spend their winters here, with a smattering of locals. I would think that most of the local musicians are more interested in making money with their music, than to commit the time to a volunteer symphony orchestra that plays music completely foreign to the local genres. To my unprofessional ears the instrumental music sounded very good, and the choir flashed me back to my own choir days.

As a freshman in high school I had the dubious honor (for a guy) of having the highest soprano voice in the boys’ choir, although it certainly was not of a quality that rated any solo performances. I elected to let my voice change, rather than have the surgery to keep it a soprano (as I hear has been done in the Vatican boys’/men’s choir). By the time I was a junior in high school my voice was in a bass register for the high school glee club. In between those two years I tried not to speak too often in order to avoid the embarrassment of having my voice suddenly change octaves without warning.

All of this thought process was prompted by simply watching the local choir perform Christmas songs. It also reminded me that I tried for years to get my daughters to join a choir in high school, since all have very good voices and good ears for the right pitch. However, my urging fell on deaf ears because “the cool kids aren’t in the choir.” Nothing like being told by your daughters that you must not have been cool in high school! And to think of the money we might have made with an all-girl band, except that none of them is too keen on playing musical instruments – the band was not “cool” either.

Last week I responded to a blood drive request for a local blood bank. Apparently there is very little blood on hand because the Mexican community doesn’t need to store it up. If a Mexican needs blood, the call goes out to his/her family and friends and there is suddenly plenty of blood available. In this case I believe the blood bank is trying to emulate the U.S. so as to have blood on hand for those without large families to draw on – like gringos. Most of the evaluation procedures were similar to those in the U.S. except that they required no I.D. from me and never did ask my blood type. The interrogation questions were very few, and the interviewer had to have me read them from the questionnaire, since her English was very poor.

After my blood was drawn, I was given free coupons for a breakfast from a local restaurant, a Bloody Mary from the Vallarta Yacht Club (to be used the following day to deter the intake of alcohol directly after donating), and a T-shirt. All the T-shirts were mediums, which may suit the body sizes of the locals, but didn’t begin to fit most of us overweight gringos. Interestingly enough the Mexican rules for blood donations forbid any alcohol for 48 hours prior and require that we be younger than 65. You can imagine that those two conditions seriously impacted the number of donors – most of whom are either retired or can’t remember what they may have imbibed within the past 48 hours. I learned later that there were perhaps 9 total donors in the three hours that the clinic was open.

Not much more to write for the moment. By next week Sheilagh will have returned and perhaps I can get her to write something for the first time this season. More later . . .

Sunday, December 14, 2008

December 12th (2008) – Paradise Village Marina in Nuevo Vallarta – Jim’s Blog #70

Current Location – Nuevo Vallarta – Lat: 20°41.49’ N / Long: 105°17.59’ W

Sad to say, Sheilagh’s mother, Kitty Dwan, died this morning (Friday, December 12th) and Sheilagh has gone up to Sebastopol to be there with her family. Kitty was 96 years old, and she was very upbeat when we had a birthday luncheon with her along with her brother, Kevin, and his wife, Rebecca, in October. Kitty had a very bad stroke on Wednesday, with very little hope of recovery, so Sheilagh hopped a United Airlines flight to San Francisco on Thursday afternoon. Sadly Kitty never regained consciousness, as far as anyone could tell, and died in her sleep on Friday morning, before Sheilagh was able to arrive there. The immediate family will get together this week to remember her.

Meanwhile, I’m staying with the boat in Paradise Village and having to fend for myself as if I were a bachelor. It’s amazing how much stuff Sheilagh does around here, and it’s only been one day since she left. I hope I can last a week without her. I will definitely appreciate her contribution to our pursuit-of-happiness agenda in the future.

A young girl and boy in the roles of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the Indian Juan Diego

Yesterday I accompanied our friends, Ed and Cornelia, to a procession of the faithful to the church of Our Lady of Guadalupe to commemorate the December 12th celebration of “"La Reina de México" (the Queen of Mexico). As we got to the church at 9:30 AM we found Mass going on while the streets were full of worshippers stretching some twelve blocks or more. They were waiting for Mass to be finished in order to enter the church to pay their respects. At 10 AM the doors were thrown open and the procession entered the church with worshippers carrying candles and flowers to present to the image of the Virgin. At the altar a couple of priests and other helpers were blessing the people and accepting the flowers and other gifts and placing them around the altars.

Some of the Mariachis in the procession

At the beginning everyone was singing a Mexican hymn as they entered, but soon it was overtaken by a loud song accompanied by a variety of instruments. As the music grew in volume some 200+ Mariachis entered in their charro outfits in ranks by musical instrument being played, starting with small high-pitched guitars, called vihuelas, then Mexican guitars, then guitarróns (small-scaled acoustic bass), followed by violins, and finally trumpets. Since each Mariachi group has its own unique outfit, and since each group was split up by the instrument played, there was no uniformity of look to the players other than a preponderance of black outfits, form-fitting trousers with silver chains down the outer seams, and a lack of the large sombreros they usually wear while performing (because they were entering the church). The mass of players were dotted with several tan and white outfits and colorful scarves everywhere. It turns out the Mariachi form and style of music emerged from the Mexican State of Jalisco, where Puerto Vallarta is located, so this was the real thing.

The Mariachis assembling on the main altar

The Mariachis installed themselves around the main altar and two side altars and continued to play for three or four additional numbers. It was a very moving experience to hear that many musicians – all male, incidentally – bringing their professional expertise to church to acknowledge their religious connection. The music resounded off the high ceiling and naves in the church while people continued to enter with flowers and other gifts in a continuing procession. I counted some 42 people passing one spot in one minute, which meant some 1200 worshippers in half an hour. Soon I heard another band outside, and suddenly the Mariachis started winding out of the church to make room for the next group.

The loud group with all the horns and drums

This group had about six large bass drums along with snare drums and brass. In this case it appeared that loudness was more important to them than the musical nature of the tune. They took up the places vacated by the Mariachis and the procession continued, while it felt as if the roof would come tumbling down with the sound. It seemed the parents with small boys in the procession had dressed them up as Juan Diego, the peasant Indian to whom the Virgin appeared (and who has been sainted by the church), including painted-on mustaches, small serapes, and equally small straw hats. The small girls were dressed up as peasant women generally, with a few girls dressed up to resemble the Virgin Mary. At the side doors to the church were several tableau pictures of Our Lady of Guadalupe where parents could have their children photographed with the Virgin. One of these tableaus had one of those automated horses one finds in front of grocery stores; apparently so male children would be motivated to have their pictures taken.

The start of the multi-hour "Favoritos" procession

The crowd thinned out after about 45 minutes, and we thought the procession was finished. Stepping outside the doors of the church we found additional people lined up to start their procession at 11 AM. We learned that these were the “Favoritos,” those who had been “favored” by Our Lady of Guadalupe in the past year by having their prayers answered. This crowd was more numerous than the first group and kept coming and coming when 11 o’clock rolled around. We found a restaurant along the procession, had lunch, and finally walked to the start of the procession, and people were still progressing toward the church. At the start of the procession were flower vendors and candle merchants who supplied the faithful with the necessary items for the procession. The parents carried flowers and the kids preferred the burning candles. People were still lining up for the one-mile procession to the church as we left at about 2 PM.

One of the Aztec groups in the procession

One interesting phenomenon for me was the presence of three different sets of Aztec dancers, in one case made up of small boys and girls, and in the other two cases made up of small girls and then teenage girls. How the Aztecs figure into the worship of Our Lady of Guadalupe is beyond me. I did a little research and learned that the Aztecs were into human sacrifice in a big way, offering 20,000 men, women, and children annually to their gods. Further research revealed that Guadalupe is in Spain, not Mexico. One source suggests that the name came about because of a mistranslation from Nahuatl (the language spoken by the Virgin to Juan Diego) to Spanish. I quote: “It is believed that Our Lady used the Aztec Nahuatl word of coatlaxopeuh which is pronounced "quatlasupe" and sounds remarkably like the Spanish word Guadalupe. Coa meaning serpent, tla being the noun ending which can be interpreted as "the", while xopeuh means to crush or stamp out. So Our Lady must have called herself the one "who crushes the serpent." The serpent-god was Quetzalcoatl. Apparently the Aztec dancers symbolize the roots of the Mexican people and reference a religion that was demolished by the Virgin and her legions of Spanish missionaries.

I find it interesting that Sheilagh’s mom, Kitty, died on the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Kitty was very religious her whole life, and it seems appropriate to me that she is now associated with Our Lady. If the truth be known, Sheilagh’s first name is Mary, in honor of Christ’s mother, and Sheilagh was born on December the 8th, which is the day that Catholics commemorate Mary’s Immaculate Conception.

My apologies if this blog carries too much of a religious connotation for you. Raised a Catholic myself, and having studied for the Priesthood for six years, I’m impressed with the simple faith of the people I’ve found in Mexico. There’s a trait we could all emulate. More later . . .

Monday, December 8, 2008

December 5th (2008) – Paradise Village Marina in Nuevo Vallarta – Jim’s Blog #69

Current Location – Nuevo Vallarta – Lat: 20°41.49’ N / Long: 105°17.59’ W

After my last blog Sheilagh and I loafed about in La Cruz for the weekend, not even venturing off our boat on Saturday. Actually I did get off the boat and into the water with my fins and snorkel gear to make sure there was no line still caught in our prop from the trip down from San Blas, and to check on the state of barnacle and plant growth on the bottom. There was no line tangled in the prop, and the bottom was amazingly clean for having been in the water for a month since our last cleaning. Maybe it was because the boat been moving pretty actively during this past month.

On Sunday we took a local bus to the neighboring town of Bucerias, the one I had kayaked to on Thursday, and wandered around town for awhile. The street vendors were out in force with things that every tourist should want – sling shots, very tiny bikinis (no, Sheilagh wasn’t interested) and other beach wear, jewelry of all sorts, serapes, blankets, table cloths, sombreros, sunglasses, etc. Since we didn’t need anything, we were a disappointment to the vendors generally. One vendor asked us how many blankets we wanted to buy (not “do you want to buy”), a closing tool I had employed in the past to sell software to large corporations – “How many users shall I sign you up for?” Others used very good English to try to get us involved in a conversation as “friends” before trying the hard sell.

We had lunch at a table overlooking the beach, and managed to catch a bus ride back sitting on the rear axle, since there was no other room in the bus. We had learned long ago to avoid that area of the buses down here because they usually have no suspension, causing the passengers to rise out of their seats at the numerous speed bumps in the road. We levitated several times on the way back, and not in a spiritual manner. We stopped at the local marina and yacht club at La Cruz to find it much improved over its condition last year, with a bar under the thatched-roof second story and a beautiful view of the northeastern part of the bay. We’re sorry to say that the margaritas were small and expensive; so we had just the one drink apiece and retired to the boat for our afternoon naps.

On Monday morning we were due to enter the marina at Paradise Village in Nuevo Vallarta, where we are now. We got some fuel at the La Cruz fuel dock, which turned out to be a lot easier than getting fuel in the main Puerto Vallarta fuel dock, where formerly we had to wait our turn after the fishing boats, pangas, and wave-riders. La Cruz has put two lovely young ladies in charge of the fuel dock with attractive white uniforms – a great marketing ploy. It turns out that there are enough male hangers-on at the fuel dock that the young women don’t have to do much handling of the hoses themselves; so the white uniforms are kept spotless.

We motored over to the eastern side of the bay about five miles away and came through the channel at high tide, keeping just to the right of the dredger that has been operating every time we’ve been here. It was very relaxing to finally tie up to a dock after a week of anchoring out, and being able to sleep on a calm surface. We immediately sprayed off the salty deck with fresh water, and in this case did not reward ourselves with a beer, since we had expended very little effort in tying up.

Here is where I mention that for the price of a couple of nights in the local hotel, we have the run of the place for a month, along with fresh water, electricity, cable TV, showers, and swimming pools. On the first of January we plan to head south to some other ports of call, as we did last year, but for now we are just being tourists, although tourists with some task list items to accomplish before going south.

We have some work to do at the top of our mast to replace a wind indicator that a large bird bent beyond usefulness, and to fix our anemometer. Sheilagh and I have decided that it’s my turn to go up this time; so I’m delaying as long as possible. In fact I got a bad sore throat a couple of days ago and have been medicating with aspirin, rest, and the hot-water-honey-and-alcohol drink that has proven effective in the past.

So far we’ve been to the marine supply store twice, involving bus rides to and from and some walking in between to get to the correct bus station. Here there are some bus stations that only serve longer range buses, and some that serve more local ones. Even if a long-range bus is stopped in front of a “local” bus station for a red light, the drivers will not pick you up. Luckily there is usually someone at the bus stop who will explain which bus we should catch at that particular station.

We heard that we could get a 15% discount at the local marine supply store if we pay in cash (5%) and if we are members of the Vallarta Yacht Club (10%). We satisfied both conditions, but only received a 5% discount. When I approached the owner about this, he admitted he should be giving us a 15% discount, but the inflation of the peso in Mexico has stopped his practice at the present time. At the moment a U.S. dollar is worth 13 pesos, 30% higher than the 10 pesos it used to convert to. It’s hard to argue with a storekeeper who has to buy many of his products from the U.S.

Sheilagh and I have both spent some time lying around the pool, reading more and more books, and appreciating the warmth of the weather here compared to the weather anywhere else. Our ABC station being broadcast here in English in Puerto Vallarta is from Buffalo, New York, for some reason – rather than from California as one would expect. Therefore we get weather reports that sound horrendously cold and nasty. Those reports make us feel even better about being down here in the warmth.

I’ve been lying low and doing as little as possible while trying to beat this sore throat problem. There’s a big party in the Vallarta Yacht Club this evening to celebrate the end of The Banderas Bay Blast (sailing, eating, and drinking to support some charity or other), and I’m too tired to even walk one block to the club. There was a sailing event and party on Wednesday and Thursday, too, at a couple of outlying locations, but neither of us had enough energy to go to those either. We like to think that we’re getting more selective in our entertainment rather than simply lazier as we get older.

Being sick is no one’s idea of a good time, but I remember it being a lot worse when the work-a-day world required that certain tasks be done anyway. Now I can just take the time to be sick and use it as an excuse to put off doing things I wasn’t in the mood to do anyway. I know I’ll be feeling a lot better just about the time that Sheilagh comes down with what I’ve got. Then it will be my turn to take care of her. I hope everyone who reads this is enjoying good health during this pre-holiday season.

Sheilagh will be a year older next Monday, and we’ll have a quiet dinner with friends to celebrate. With Sheilagh’s preference for meat we’re thinking of a Brazilian restaurant to satisfy her cravings. At a place like that she won’t have to eat any vegetables or salad, which she still pushes around her plate without touching much of it as she did in her youth. While I usually take a bite of food from each of the food groups on my plate, insuring that everything gets eaten in a clockwise or counterclockwise fashion (yes, it’s a bit anal retentive I admit), Sheilagh is less logical and always attacks the meat first. After she eats the meat on her plate, she goes for seconds on the meat, before tasting the veggies or whatever else remains from her first plateload. However, if desert is available, there’s nothing that could cause her to finish anything but the meat. I’m not sure how we got our daughters to eat responsibly with Sheilagh as their mother and model.

Nevertheless she turned out well, and our kids and their kids are thriving as can be seen to the left: Daughters from the left are Kimberly, Megan, Stephanie, and Melissa. Granddaughters from left to right are Melissa's children Delaney, Riley, and Paige. The grandson is Evan James, sitting in his mom's lap. More later . . .