March 13th (2009) – Bahía Chamela – Jim’s Blog #83

[Sorry to be so late with this. We have not had good internet access since before the 13th.]

Current Location – Pasavera Cove in Bahía Chamela – Lat: 19°33.53’ N / Long: 105°06.64’ W

Sheilagh in the cockpit on the way to Chamela

Ah, Friday the 13th, definitely a day to stay anchored! We motor-sailed north from Tenacatita to Pasavera Cove in Bahía Chamela yesterday. It was only a 30 mile distance with winds from varying directions of less than 15 knots and pleasant rolling swells of no more than 4’ in height on the nose. It was a pleasant sail in general, although we needed the engine to keep us going at a decent rate with the variable winds. The daily weather report for the Mexican Riviera (Puerto Vallarta to Acapulco) always seems to include the phrases: “Chamber of Commerce weather” and ”light winds along the coast due to differences in the temperature on the land and water.” That's it for weather here during the winter, which is why we spend time here.

We spent most of the week in the Tenacatita anchorage, relaxing as usual. On the occasion of our return to the town of Tenacatita for some groceries, I took along my snorkeling gear and did some underwater viewing in “The Aquarium.” This is a small body of water surrounded by large rocks that keep the surf out and is covered with sand and coral. This is not the scraggly pieces of coral that one sees in gift shops, but large mounds of coral that seem almost smooth on top with striations across the mounds where food either is (or was) captured by the coral for their growth. This coral is very hard to the touch; so it seems dead, but I don’t know that much about what living coral looks like versus dead coral. This “Aquarium” is protected from fishermen and contains an amazing variety of colorful fish, all of whom spend their time in the coral canyons.

The tide was going out at the time, leaving just a couple of feet of water over the top of the coral, reduced to a foot when the swells passed by. Therefore I had to find paths through the coral rather than over the top, or I might have grounded my body on sharp coral whenever a swell went past. One has to keep an exit path open to make sure to get back to deep water. Normally as I swim my eyes are focused downward. Once, as I looked up at the surface, I found I was surrounded by a school of needlefish about 2 feet long, the kind that can go airborne along the surface of the water and stay up for dozens of yards with just their tales submerged. I splashed around vigorously to get them started, but I didn’t see any reaction. Sheilagh was watching from shore and said a number of them took off above the water to escape me.

It's difficult to see the "baby" jellyfish in the first photo, but the parent is easy to see on the right

As I approached the outer end of the reef I suddenly felt a small sting on my lip and realized that I was feeling the same stings on my arms and torso. As I looked up, I saw I was in the midst of floating pieces of white strands of cotton, which were actually small jellyfish. I quickly turned around and got out of the area as quickly as possible. The stings were somewhat like being poked with a needle – an instantaneous bit of pain that didn’t endure. Nevertheless, I spent a bit more time keeping track of the surface organisms for the rest of my swim.

Sunday we took the dinghy 3 miles across the bay to La Mazanilla for some internet availability, some shopping and some visiting with Dave and Suzi of “Sidewinder” and John and Sharon of “Sunsation.” Both of those couples have hard-bottomed dinghies which can get up on plane and travel much faster than our dinghy. We started across the bay 15 minutes before they did and 30 minutes later they passed us just as we were approaching the beach. The benefit of a “soft-bottom dinghy” is that it can be rolled up and either strapped down or stuffed in the hold when large waves are expected. Most of the cruisers who have hard-bottomed dinghies also have davits on the back of their boats to hold them. We have a steering vane instead on the back of our boat; so we opted for the more compact dinghy.

When we got to the internet restaurant, the “techie” who assigns the passwords was taking a break; so we couldn’t get onto the internet just then. We took the time to walk down to the lagoon to view some of the very large crocodiles lazing about there. There’s a wire fence between the lagoon and the streets of the town to keep the crocodiles from wandering into the shopping area, but we noticed that in several places the wire fence had been bent over in the direction of town. Could it be that some of the crocodiles disregarded that flimsy fence?

We drifted off to a well-recommended restaurant and spent the next 2+ hours getting to know our new friends. The service was extremely slow, but the food was delicious and we didn’t really have a lot to do other than visit. Usually we complete lunch in half an hour and get on with errands, but this offered a unique opportunity to really get to know the other couples. Maybe this is what the Europeans are so good at doing with their long lunches and dinners.

One of the larger powerboats to sit in the anchorage with us in Tenacatita. Note the helicopter on the top deck. We got to watch it take off and land in very mild conditions.

On Monday a man and woman from the newly arrived boat, “Jake,” appeared at the palapa on the beach where I was sitting with a cold one (Sheilagh was relaxing on the boat) and stood just underneath the thatch edge as they let their eyes adjust to the shade. This was not the boat, “Jake,” owned by Jake and Sharon, whom we had gotten to know last year. I could swear I had met the man before; so I extended my hand and introduced myself as “Jim from the sailing vessel, Aurora,” hoping he would identify himself in the same way before I had to ask him his name. Instead the man said, “I know who you are. You’re Jim Goetsch and you told me once that you were trying to establish a family connection with Bill Gates and his millions, because it was rumored that some of the Goetsches [and Goetzes] who came over from Europe changed their name to Gates.”

That blew me away because I usually mention that little story only to people I have become quite familiar with. He then introduced himself as Robert, who had met me at Downwind Marine in San Diego, where he was working at the time. He had helped Sheilagh and me outfit our boat over several months’ time, and now he had finally broken away from work there and come south with his wife, Annette, to enjoy the cruising life. Robert had been cruising for several years earlier, stopping occasionally to work at marine supply stores to build up the cruising kitty. They invited Sheilagh and me over to their boat the next evening for cocktail hour to include Sheilagh in our catching up together.

We went over to their boat the next evening with our cheese and cracker offering, only to find a full layout of snacks and wine that didn’t need our paltry contribution. It turns out that Annette had been a catering manager for years with a variety of hotels, and certainly knew how to put out a spread. They had purchased a fairly inexpensive boat and outfitted it with the reduced-cost marine items that Robert got as a result of working in a marine store, with Annette working as the catering manager for Coronado Hotel in San Diego.

They had elected to carry no insurance on the boat, because the cost of insurance for ten years would exceed the cost of the boat, and the loss of the boat would not be that great a disaster on their finances. We did just the opposite – purchased a high-cost boat and can’t afford not to cover with insurance, but the alternative seems interesting. The benefit of our approach is that we very seldom have any difficulty with our boat or equipment, particularly in comparison with those cruisers who elected to follow the low-budget approach.

I spent much of the week practicing wave surfing in the kayak and managed to have many more successful rides than dumps. I have a pair of sunglasses with a strap holding them to my head, and a hat with a strap under my chin. I have sailing gloves strapped around my wrists (to avoid blisters), the paddle attached to my right wrist with bungee cord, and my swimming suit tied tightly to my middle. When the kayak rolls in a wave, I keep one hand clutching the kayak, and everything else stays attached to my body automatically.

By the end of an afternoon of kayak-surfing my sunglasses are coated with salt water, but it’s not as if I need to use them for reading. When I get back to the boat, Sheilagh passes up the soap, shampoo, and towel to allow me to wash up in fresh water on the side of the boat. This lets me wash my hat, gloves, glasses, and swimming suit in fresh water as I wash myself. One of these days I’m likely to fall off the boat as I’m washing up, but so far I’ve managed to keep my balance.

On Thursday we discovered that our holding tank had one inch of space left at the top; so we knew it was time to move on. Instead of waiting until Saturday, which had been our original plan, we hoisted the anchor and left for Chamela, dumping the holding tank as soon as we had gotten beyond three miles out. We’ve decided that 12 days is our limit for staying anywhere until we need to move on. I guess it’s similar to the way primitive people have to travel from place to place when either the game runs out or the latrines are overwhelmed.

Sunrise in Chamela

Chamela is an extremely rocky anchorage - meaning the boat rocks due to the lack of protection from the swells in the anchorage. We put out our “flopper stopper,” a device we hang from the whisker pole off the side of the boat that tends to smooth out the sideways rocking of the boat. It turns out that a storm to the south has sent very large swells north along the Mexican Riviera Coast. Chamela is one of the anchorages on this coast that is not well protected from the south. We’re watching huge swells coming in from the sea, raising our boat several feet as they pass, and then crashing onto the beach with a ferocious sound and fury. Some of the fishing pangas have been waiting over 15 minutes to find a weaker wave that will let them get clear onto the beach to unload their catch without being caught in the surf. We have elected to refrain from going ashore during our stay here because of the problems with trying to get back out through the surf.

More later . . .