Under Pressure
It’s March 2nd and Indigo headed back north again on our way out of the hurricane zone. Already, you say? Well, yes, we didn’t go back to renew visas this year so we need to get out of dodge by the end of April. With the winds the way they’ve been (really windy from the north), we’d been a little (OK a lot) nervous about having enough time… time to be able inch Indigo farther north to San Carlos in between all these week-long northers… and, once we arrive, time to finish Brian’s thousand-item-checklist for putting the boat into dry storage. You wouldn’t think it would be soooo nerve-racking, having to be OUT by a certain date. But it is, and we feel the pressure already. So we cut our time short on the mainland in order to have lots of time to venture north. No one wants to feel rushed when cruising; makes for unhappy campers all the way around.

Leaving Mazatlan
While Mazatlan has a stunning shopping mall, multiple movie theaters, the best Mega(grocery store), a quaint historic district with interesting colonial architecture, and a miles-long Malecon on a beautiful beach… it also has oodles of people, tons of tourists, too many time-share salespeople and walking trinket-vendors up the wazoo.

Despite our initial reaction to the whole touristy feel of Mazatlan and feeling like we’d seen all there was to see within a matter of a couple weeks, we stayed to experience Carnaval. Fortunately for us, our tour guide friends on S/V Cuba Libre showed us around their adopted home and within a couple more weeks they helped us discover some really cool stuff: the artwalk, street hot dog vendors, amazing tacos al pastor, a spectacular bullfight, yummy gorditas, the shrimp ladies, the gringo theater, Cuban food, the carnival fireworks…all things we never would have experienced without their local knowledge.

Soon we got used to riding the crowded buses, going in the claustrophobic market and navigating the hectic downtown sidewalks where I came within 6” of getting clipped by a bus. We began to ignore the steady stream of “salespeople” who inevitably come right up to your dining table, even INSIDE some restaurants, hawking everything from bracelets to banana bread to foot massages (if I only had a dollar for every time I had to say “no gracias”). We learned the trick of fending off timeshare salespeople (tell them you live on a boat - this indicates you have no money) and shooed away the persistent yet terrible street musicians who shouldn’t be allowed to touch an instrument let alone sing.

So for us, it took a bit for Mazatlan to sink in; we like it now. We understand why soooo many Canadians and some Americans move to this city permanently: a myriad of cultural activities, great shopping, awesome food, perfect weather, beautiful beaches, low cost-of-living. Still… Would I fly my mother down here? Probably not. I just don’t think it’s up her alley. Some people absolutely love this place, but it’s not for everyone. Now that we’ve spent enough time here though, we feel comfortable getting around and could certainly play tour guide a thousand times better than when we’d first arrived.

Back to La Paz
While we will miss Mazatlan, we were eager to get back to nature… back to the peace of La Paz, the beautiful anchorages and the stunning waters of the Sea of Cortez. So on Wed, March 2nd we left Marina Mazatlan (we moved there to get the varnish completed) at 7am and headed back to La Paz. This time we had no buddy boat and were on our own for the 2 day passage. But somehow, it wasn’t quite so daunting the second time around.

 “YOU talkin’ to ME?”
A few miles outside the harbor entrance, we noticed a boat trailing behind us, but didn’t pay much attention. Then I heard a call over VHF, a little something like this: “Sailboat just out of Mazatlan Harbor headed to La Paz, this is Salish Sequel.” Normally, hearing a call like that always induces a quandary. Are they really talking to me?  You just never know. Well Watson, we HAD to be the one she was hailing. Why? We were literally the ONLY other sailboat out there!

You see, a person can stand at the Mazatlan harbor entrance and tell exactly where a boat is going to; there are only two choices. If you turn south, you’re going to La Cruz or PV, an overnight passage; if you go northwest you’re headed back to La Paz. There’s just nowhere else to go. (Ok, there is Topolobampo due north, but it’s much farther so most people don’t.) We ended up chatting a couple times over VHF radio with Salish Sequel, loosely buddy-boating by sheer proximity for the first day; we then lost them after dark.

No Wind, Perfect Wind, or Too Much Wind
Brian wants SOME wind for a crossing (a perfect 10kts, on a close reach – good luck with that), so we can sail most of the way and not use up diesel. Sure, tell me something that every sailor doesn’t want. But I’m a realist. For a 2-day crossing, I want NO wind so we can just motor and get it over with and so there is no risk of lumpy, seasickness-inducing-seas. Neither of us wants TOO MUCH wind. At this time of year (well most of the time) the winds come from the northwest. Guess which direction we had to go? Northwest. Bashing into strong winds, to put it crudely, sucks. So we time our crossing via Sailflow and other weather-prediction sites for 3-4 days of super benign weather…and cross fingers.

I WIN!
That first day, we were able to sail for 5 hours (Brian is ecstatic). We then motored for 24 hours straight (Me=Yay!; Brian=frowny face). Then sailed for 2, then motored the rest of the way. Yup. I WIN! Oh, the seas were beautiful - like glass! I overheard this conversation over VHF: “You got any wind over there?” “Nope, it’s like a skating rink out here.” Only a Canadian would use a skating rink analogy, but he was right…it was so smooth you could drop a pin and the water would ripple for miles. Motoring at night, through pitch dark for several hours before the moon rose, was pure peace.

Turtle Migration
The second day, we had our first turtle sighting! I had gotten a bit jealous that everyone else had witnessed turtles in the Sea; we had been here for a season and a half… still no turtles. Lo and behold, we got our fill of them this day. We must have seen 20 or more throughout the day, never more than one at a time, never too close to the boat (they’d duck under if our paths intersected too close). We could spot their dark shells as much as a half mile out, floating at the surface, infringing upon the baby blue monotony of our flat skating rink. Their green/black hard-hat shells stuck above the water several inches, their little feet swimming along back to La Paz. If it took us two days to get there, how long would it take them? Quite the journey. We spotted a seagull standing atop one, catching a free ride. Not sure why the turtle let him; he could have just ducked under and sent him flying away, but he didn’t. Maybe he just needed a friend.

Bonanza!
We landed at Playa Bonanza on Isla Ispiritu Santos 47 hours and 250 miles later. Just before sunrise, we anchored in this expansive bay in the dark. And who should arrive under the rising sun but Salish Sequel. They graciously invited us for delicious sangrias and snacks that evening to celebrate a good crossing.

For two days, we rested in the perfect white sand arms of Bonanza, and then made the final, easy leg to La Paz. We docked at Marina Palmira for one week, just enough time to grocery shop, do taxes (blah), finish my incredibly long bullfight blog (it took 4 hours sitting in the lounge just to upload the video – man, I miss El Cid internet) and do some boatwork (Brian climbed the mast 5 times in one day to polish all the mast steps and clean the rigging – what a feat!).

Heading North Once Again
On March 13th we began our 2nd northern trek to San Carlos. This signifies the beginning of the end of our second season in the Sea…hard to believe!

Daily Decisions
The cruising lifestyle is innately fickle. Living on land we were creatures of habit and schedule. If we made a decision about something, we did it. Now, we don’t even feel bad about not being able to stick to a plan anymore, it’s normal… and actually unreasonable to expect. We never know what we’re doing from one day to the next, one hour from the next, and we change our minds in an instant to stay or go somewhere due to…I can name a million things: definite weather, possible weather or even the slightest inkling of weather, new cruiser intel, sicknesses, boatwork (there’s always boatwork), the nebulous nature of searching out ‘boat bits’ or hiring craftsmen in a foreign country, wanting to see something new and unexplored. Frankly, a fluid agenda is all we can ever really hope for.   

We’re Leaving Tomorrow – Yeah, Riiight
“We’re leaving tomorrow” is a statement to be taken about as seriously as Justin Beiber. We’ve heard this phrase over and over… then something happens, and so and so is still in port a week, a month later. Recent examples: One boater schwacked their keel hard against the shallow canal floor leaving Mazatlan - back to the marina to check if the hull was cracked. Another couple had to turn around because they didn’t check the dredge times – back to the slip, there’s no room to get out the channel. Just prior to heading south, someone accidentally filled his water tanks with gas (ouch, that’s a big one) – back to the dock for days and days of a cleaning nightmare. Several boats remained in town for Carnaval, based on local advice that it was a worthy once-in-a-lifetime event, in spite of their initial plans to stay in Mazatlan for merely a week. We know one couple who delayed departure simply due to fatigue; the morning of their slated passage south (it’s an overnight to get anywhere from Mazatlan), they just didn’t physically feel up to the rigors of sailing for 24-hours… and ended up not being able to get out due to windy conditions for over a week. (It’s smart not to push it when your lives and your home are on the line). On and on and on. Plans change. Every minute of every day.

Staying for Carnaval and Canvas and Welding
Our original plan was to stay in Mazatlan until the end of January, one month.  Carnaval would begin a week later resulting in a 2-week delay… but the lure of such a spectacle was too strong to miss. After we decided to stay, we took advantage of the extra time to get some canvas work and welding done while we waited.

The Stainless Welder
One project was to replace 4 lengths of lifeline with stainless steel rails welded to the stanchions at the front of the cockpit. (Brian had wanted to do this before we left, but ran out of time.) We spent a week trying to persuade one welder to do the job. We’d seen his impressive work on other boats and contacted Mr. X who said he’d come the following day. No show. We’d call or email to remind… “Oh yeah, I’ll come tomorrow”. We’d wait ALL day in the boat, afraid to go ANYWHERE for fear we’d miss him. No one came. After 2 days of this, with a day in between each definite “I’ll be there” day, totaling 4, Brian went to his shop and spoke to him in person. “OK, I come mañana”. Again…NADA! Wasting a week, we finally gave up and found Alfonso who actually DID want the work; he did an excellent job to boot – and in only one afternoon! Nearly every day, as I lean on its support stepping on or off the boat, or grab when walking forward as we are sailing, or steady my camera on it, or watch Brian lean over it to pee off the boat when sailing (no, you just can’t train them)…  I reflect on how much I absolutely LOVE my new steady handhold.

The Canvas Guy
Living on the boat full time results in constant sunshine and salt grating into our 12-yr-old Eisenglass dodger windows. We could barely see through the faded, pockmarked, sunburnt plastic. I had tried restoring the material via a special polish to no avail. The best canvas guy in town is Ruben - if you can get his time, you are one fortunate person. Cuba Libre had brought down sheets of polycarbonate window material (forget about buying this stuff down here) to have Ruben remake their dodger. After Ruben completed their job, he managed to have a sheet left over (lucky for us!). So, we had Ruben replace the windows in our dodger and make Sunbrella covers to protect our new investment. The timing worked perfectly - we got the finished product back just after Carnaval. Thanks to Cuba Libre, we can see clearly now, the fade has gone! Time to leave. Right? Riiiight.

Those Darn Wishy-Washy Cruisers
After Carnaval, we were all set to leave. I had even bought groceries for the overnight trip south to La Cruz and then on to Puerto Vallarta. Then it happened. We flip-flopped. AGAIN. You see, a man named Beto had been refinishing the exterior wood trim on Mopion, a sailboat across from us at Marina El Cid. Each day, we’d gaze longingly over at their shimmering teak caprail, glossy and ornate spindles shining in the sun. We watched as Beto sanded it all down and then applied coat after luscious coat, day after day. Ah, if only our own teak could look this beautiful, this “bristol”, once again. I admit… we seriously coveted their varnish job. But please, if you have ANY teak on your boat, don’t TELL me that you DON’T covet another man’s perfect varnish. You’d sooo be lying.

Beto Brings It
We began to ask ourselves the inevitable question. Hmmm. We hemmed and hawed. Brian chatted with Mopion about the workmanship, whether he was happy with the result (he was). We hemmed some more. We’d amble over to B-dock and stare at Mopion’s teak as we passed by... sigh…sooo pretty. We worked up enough nerve and got a quote. Ouch. Beto couldn’t start for another 10 days. Then it would take an additional week to finish the job. We hawed again. Finally, we jumped. We’d much rather have our hideous, orange-peeling varnish fixed here in 1 week (Beto is not only good, he is FAST) as opposed to doing it ourselves in 3 weeks in the hot, oppressive and sandy boatyard in San Carlos this coming November (our original plan), severely cutting into our cruising time that we were supposed to spend in the sea with our friends this fall. That made it a no brainer.

So Long Puerto Vallarta
But it cost us timewise. By the time our varnish would be finished, we’d have to head north to get the boat up to San Carlos and us out of the country by April’s end. So long PV. Maybe next year. Fickle? Wishy-washy? You bet. Over the past year and a half, we’ve learned that cruisers are inherently wishy-washy. It is an acquired trait. But a necessary characteristic we have learned to adopt in order to keep the boat and our health and happiness maintained (that includes our sanity). The best part? We now possess crystal-clear dodger windows through which to navigate, protective window covers, stainless rails forming a more secure cockpit, and beautifully varnished teak caprails, eyebrows and rubrails! As a glassy-eyed Will Farrell from “Elf” might say: “It’s glorious!”

I know what you’re thinking…. Ewww. You went to a BULLFIGHT???? OMG. Don’t they kill the bulls?

Yes, we went. Yes, they kill the bulls, four of them to be exact. But the meat is donated to charity. So there’s that. If it makes you feel better. While I felt sad for the bulls, my desire to witness such a cultural spectacle was outweighed by any squeamishness. Like it or not, this IS part of the culture of Mexico, just as is the cruel pastime of cock-fighting. Our aim is not to judge the practice, just to observe. And I was curious…what IS this all about?

The bullfight is a tradition still widely popular throughout Mexico (and Spain, Portugal, France and Argentina), yet this Spanish-originated pastime is slowly trending toward decline. Our particular bullfighting event is now held just once a year here in Mazatlan. We just so happened to be in town at the right time and lucked into getting tickets to this “Teatro del Toro”. Well, luck wasn’t everything…persistence is key.

Tracking Down Tickets
Online tickets? Puleease. And no box office. In fact, I could find zero info online as to how to go about getting seats or even just finding the event date. Luckily for us, we had the inside scoop from our friends who had gone years ago (shout out to Cuba Libre). The Teatro del Toro, or Theater of the Bulls, sells seats at the former oil change shop turned drive-in convenience store next to the arena. (Picture that… yes, you actually drive into the lift bay to peruse the crackers, candy and soda pops lined up along the bay walls. It’s strange, yet convenient… I don’t know why drive-through 7-11’s haven’t appeared in the US?)

Anyway, we ask the Saturday clerk when the bullfight is; Mr. Saturday knows nothing. Come back Monday, he says. OK. We come back on Monday. The Monday attendant is fortunately in the know. He says the fight is 2 weeks away, but tickets are not yet for sale. Come back next week. So we wait again. We are persistent. One week before the show, we return once more and buy tickets. The sign is finally posted on the outside of the arena: Teatro del Toro presents Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza… the famed bullfighting horseman!

Colosseum
Arriving inside the Colosseum-style arena is reminiscent of the classic ‘Roman gladiator vs. the lion’ setup. Concrete, tiered stadium seating surrounds a circular dirt field 360 degrees - not a bad seat in the house. The place is packed; I guess their simple, single-sign marketing campaign a week prior to show-time WAS brilliant – why advertise when you don’t have to? Standard snack fare: Tecate beer, cacahuates (peanuts), nacho chips with salsa poured right inside the bag (messy!) and chopped pieces of mystery meat (probably hot dogs). Don’t forget the tequila shots. A pep band pipes out peppy tunes to rouse the restless spectators.

Galloping Matador
After the matador introduction formalities, the first act begins. A handsome bullfighter rides out on horseback, introducing himself by galloping mightily around the arena, regaling the crowd. A galloping matador? Who ever heard of such a thing? Actually, “matador” isn’t the proper term; these matadors on horseback are called “rejoneadors”, translated directly as “lancers”.  They are a much rarer breed of matador, and in my opinion, more fascinating due to their ‘horsey skilz’.

Pablo! Pablo! Pablo!
There are two horsemen at this show, but everyone comes to see Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza. The vivacious Spaniard is a world-renowned rejoneador, performing in Portugal, France, Spain, Mexico and South America for the past 26 years.  Pablo was, in short, amazing to watch, as were his talented steeds. This audience was effortlessly swooned by his winning smiles and colonial gallantry, transporting us onlookers back in time. With a horse-pirouette here, a horse-curtsy there, and dozens of raised-arm “Huzzah!” moments, Pablo is a showman through and through. For more info on the dynamic Señor Hermoso, visit his website.

In the Lion’s Den
Pleasantries complete, the rejoneador awaits his encounter. The gate opens. But instead of a lion, a bull charges out into the impending war zone…and he is NOT happy. I don’t know what the heck they do back there to get him all riled up…but it can’t be pleasant. The bull hurtles at anything that moves, soon focusing his attention on the fastest object in the arena. The horseman gallops away, leading it ‘round and ‘round the ring.

Playing Tag
The horse and his human partner are as one entity: staring the beast down, challenging him to give chase. Now, I have zero authority as a “horse psychologist”, but I really believe the horse isn’t afraid of the bull. In fact, he appears to be having fun…like playing tag. “Ha ha, you can’t catch me!” They tease and provoke the bull, sidling up alongside, prancing and dancing about…leading the bull this way and that, often times with an elegant sidestepping motion. Amazingly, the horse twists and turns away at the last second before getting his hiney gored. After the first few minutes of cat and mouse, this first phase’s objective is complete: fatiguing the bull while displaying superior equestrian talent. The rejoneador exits to change his mount.

Ground Matadors
While the horseman is away, the matadors come out to play. As the “ground guys”, these men are what you’d think of as customary bullfighters, festooned in fancy, gold-bedazzled outfits, slippers and the typical matador “montera” sombrero. Waving a brightly colored pink cape, their fabric-whipping is a silent taunt: “Come get me. Over here!” And the bull complies. He runs right at their cape…but just the cape. Bulls have no concept of trajectory… they only focus on the flash of color and seemingly cannot project where the man behind the curtain will run to next. Lucky for the matador!

The Lancing Phase
After the ground guys tire Mr. Bull out some more, our rider arrives with a new stallion and the battle begins. Using traditional “banderillas” or colorful, blade-tipped sticks in various lengths, the rejoneador demonstrates sheer courage by proximity: the shorter the lance, the closer one must position oneself to the bull, the greater the skill and bravery.

Careening headlong towards the bull, the horseman leans over precariously, holding onto the reins with one hand, in the other he holds outstretched the banderilla. In the smooth, practiced motion of a Polo pro, his arm arcs high, swiping the blade down into the bull’s back. If you watch my video, you will see a couple instances where the jabbing action is quite pronounced and visible. Other times, the rejoneador is so fast at his job, only the roar of the crowd signifies he just hit his mark. The daggers go deep and remain in place. Each successive hit tires the bull further. He is visibly bleeding. Poor little guy. Our knight exits. Enter the waiters.

The Loco Waiters
Rumor has it, several waiters from a local restaurant were sitting around getting a little shnockered after work one day and devised an outrageous bet.

“Wait, wait, I got it, I got it… Hey Bob, what if we group-charged the bull! What IF we lined up like an arrow challenging the bull. He charges, catching the lead guy in between his horns! As the bull runs forward with our spearhead leader essentially hugging the bull’s face, each successive man slams into the back of the lead slowing the bull down to a crawl, like an inverse tug-of-war! Eh?!!”  

“OK, great idea Joe, but how do we stop him?”

“Well, then the last guy in line runs around and pulls the bulls tail, while the rest of us surround and push against the beast, giving our leader time to extricate himself from between the horns. Then… we all let go at the same time and run away!”

 “Sweet! Who gets to be the tip of the spear?”

Crickets…

This exhibition is actually a standard bullfighting feature seen around the world. The official name for these types of bullfighters, those that essentially hand-wrestle the bull, is “forcados”.  For our waiter-forcados, their little scheme works like clockwork… most of the time. It seems bulls just want to run in a straight line at whatever they are after. But one bull was a swerver. As soon as he hit the #1 guy… he veered off course! Ruh roh. Now there’s no one to catch his back, literally, and provide opposing force. The guy was tossed around while his waiter-friends ran around like crazed circus clowns trying to surround the bull to perform the extrication.  After all that, they had to do a repeat! Twice! This bull refused to cooperate with their little game. The lead guy actually got trampled both times, but got right back up to do it again.  Now that takes courage, or maybe a complete lack of sense.  The “Tail-Puller” has got to have the best job of the bunch – he gets to skid around like he’s water-skiing on sand!

Kill Shot
After the lancer finishes employing his last banderilla, he waves the white flag, signaling it’s time for the kill shot.  The angle and attack must be accurate; the goal is to precisely stab its heart with a specific Lance of Death or “rejón de muerte” so as to provide the bull a swift demise. As soon as the final stab is complete, the rejoneador leaps to the ground. Valiantly, he runs up close to the dazed and faltering bull and essentially commands him to die.

One time it happened instantaneously - as soon the horseman approached, he waved his hands like Yoda performing the Jedi mind trick; the beast drops dead instantaneously and the crowd cheers wildly. It was incredible. Another time, it took a while…toooo long to die. The proud rejoneador turned bull-whisperer…we could see him speaking to the bull, coaxing him, almost like he had to talk him into dying. “Come on… it’s OK… you can go now, you fought like a champion.” That proud bull fought like hell to stay standing. Sad. Interestingly, if the bull wasn’t killed quickly or he suffered more than necessary, the crowd will boo the rejoneador.

The Don
As soon as the bull keels over, the crowd expectantly turns toward the skybox suite where sits… The Don. OK, they don’t really call him that, but if this were a movie, he’d be stoically played by Edward James Olmos of Battlestar Gallactica fame. As the bull’s owner, The Don not only gets the best seat in the house, he subjectively decides the score based on the rejoneadors’ proficiency and how quickly he feels his bull died.

In silence, The Don contemplates… stern-faced, aristocratic… as the people wait for their Cesar to raise his flags. Two is best (quick clean kill and expert showmanship); one is OK; none means you didn’t do your job – it’s considered bad form and you’ll most likely get booed. If the crowd determines that The Don is not being generous enough, they will chant “dos, dos” (two) or “otra, otra” (another), meaning “give him two ears already!” Ears? What do you mean ears?

Ear You Go!
Well, if it wasn’t already gory enough… based on the number of white handkerchiefs displayed by the owner, the horseman receives either one or two ears as his prize. Yes, ACTUAL ears. In comes a special “ear-cutter matador”. This man’s job is to literally saw the ears right off the now dead bull. Then, in a quite solemn manner, he holds them out for display to The Don who graciously nods his approval. Ears (or ear, singular) are handed over ceremoniously to the rejoneador and the crowd cheers! More mariachi music!

Exit Stage Left
So, what to do with a deceased bull? An entire team of bull-disposers now file into the stadium with a no-kidding donkey-pulled cart. One man pulls the bull’s head up by the horns while another shoves a sled under the massive head. The horns are then tied to the sled, the donkey train is attached, someone slaps em’ on the behind and away the poor little guy goes…dragged off stage. Sand sweepers rake the arena back to smooth.

Donkeys are not always cooperative and one time they were spooked so bad it took forever to get them to settle down. After this awkward display, I’d opt for a tractor. But maybe they still use donkeys purely to highlight this as a traditional feature of the bullfight. Or not…it’s probably just because donkeys are cheaper than tractors.

Four Rounds - Four Bulls - A Remarkable Night
Four bulls are selected for the night, each successively larger and more menacing. The first bull was the worst as far as being shocked by all that blood running down his furry coat; I felt really bad for that first bull. But the incredible showmanship and talent of these matadors and the spiritedness of their horses negated future qualms. After you know what to expect, you start to focus on and appreciate the skill and bravery of the riders, the audacity of their steeds and the pageantry of it all… rather than the “death” aspect. No, this show is not for everyone. But we feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to observe this dying tradition.

VIDEO
I got really good photos of the #2 horseman (in olive green), but Pablo (in red) was just too fast. By the time I clicked, many of my photos were a blurry mess. The GoPro video wins over the Fujifilm FinePix XP on this count except it can't zoom. Watch Pablo for yourself in this VIDEO. But…
WARNING:
This photo gallery and video contains images of bulls that’s have been stabbed and are bleeding or dead. No people were harmed at this event. DO NOT allow children or those of squeamish stomach to view these photos without first reviewing them for appropriateness. ‘Nough said. And for you PETA types, don’t bother with the negative comments – don’t care.

Part of the Mazatlan Carnaval experience is its elaborate parade...an endless sea of fantastic floats, beauty queens, musicians and dancers winding their way along the waterfront. Indigo, Sea Dancer and Harmony caught a red troca (canopy covered pickup truck) to a bayside hotel where we witnessed the grandeur in comfort!

AguaMarina
For 900 pesos ($50) per couple, the AguaMarina hotel puts on a nice buffet dinner with parade view seating. Again, when you need to wait 5 hours for the event, the beauty of purchasing tickets is having chairs and access to a real bathroom. (I’m beginning to sound like I’m 100 years old… only concerned with restrooms and standing… but seriously, I’d been sick and didn’t need the germfest of disgusting portapotties or to be exhausted after standing all day in the sun.) We received numbered wrist bands with matching numbered chairs so no one could infringe on our space. Surprisingly, the seating was tiered, providing us a perfect seated view of the parade.  

Commercial Parade
The commercial sponsors have their own parade before the main show. So we got a 2-fer. Gaspasa (gas company), TelCel (cell phones) and others, construct elaborate advertising floats, often using company vehicles. But, in the case of the bus company…no decoration required. I imagine the float planning committee is run by Ron Swanson of Parks and Rec: “What are we going to do for Carnaval this year, Ron?” “Just drive the bus, what else?” Silence. “OK, fine, you can plop a t-shirt-throwing chick on top, but just one.” Meeting adjourned.

Pacifico Procession
The main sponsor is Pacifico. Started in Mazatlan by German immigrants back in 1900, this company (a city institution, really) still operates its large factory near the cruise ship harbor. So it wasn’t surprising to see Pacifico headlining the commercial docket with an envoy of vehicles, including a gigantic semi-tractor trailer brimming with musicians and scantily-clad Pacifico Girls topped with a mini remote-controlled Pacifico Blimp launched into the air right from the flatbed. A parade within a parade… before the real parade.

Wiggin’ It
Pre-parade people watching was interesting stuff. The ever-present Carnaval masks were a hit as usual, but colorful wigs and cool hats ruled. We saw kids with long purple hair down to their ankles, guys and girls in gigantic 70’s afros, a couple sporting Mario and Luigi hats, Spiderman masks, even a super creepy Mad-Hatter disguise.

Need More Lasers
Confetti flew everywhere, spit out in streams at spectators from every other float. In the early years of Carnaval, hollowed eggs were filled with flour and flung at floats and spectators alike, causing a huge mess. Eventually, confetti eggs replaced flour as a better alternative. Management has since cracked down on projectile-throwing for safety reasons. But now we have LASERS! Yes, you too can buy a laser and shine it in your fellow float-riders eyes, blinding them for life. But it’s so much SAFER. And more environmentally friendly.

The Real Parade
While the commercial parade began in daylight, we waited at least another hour for the main attraction. Dark by now, we could see the lights of the procession across the bay, crawling at a snail’s pace along the concave oceanfront boulevard. Then the first float arrived, and we were treated with an endless array of elaborately lit structures, smiling, beautiful women in sashes doing the queen wave, live musicians trying to overpower their competition on the preceding float, confetti blowers and t-shirt throwers, fake eyelashes, sequined dresses and tight gold lamé shorts. Dancing teams (one performing to Saturday Night Fever of all songs) and dozens of mariachi and banda bands marched in between. This year’s Carnaval theme was “The allegory that emerged from the waves”.  So, all the floats tended to be ocean-related and/or Atlantis-themed. Lots of Greek columns, dolphins, shells, seahorses, coral, ships, even a giant lobster. The evening convoy ended with dozens of prancing horses, all in alignment, hooves lifting daintily.

Effervescent Child Queen
While there were many grand floats, the highlight of the night was the Child Queen float. We saw this amazing 8-yr old at the selection ceremony in the town square and she was every bit as cute tonight. Having an absolute ball, Emilia grinned ear to ear, waving and blowing kisses and looking everyone in the eye like a pro. Then she’d break into dance, boogying on her bouncy “manta ray” perch. After many miles and countless waves, there was no posing, just honesty…a grateful Queen expressing love for “her people”. And the people adored her right back. Maybe one day she’ll be President.

Family Friendly Carnaval
If you are looking for a family-friendly Carnaval to attend, Mazatlan is it. We highly recommend the experience. Just book your hotel early! Despite the sheer numbers of people, the crowds were respectful and getting around town wasn’t too bad. We saw nothing salacious, just a lot of pretty people in pretty costumes and loud music. If you're looking for skin-flashing, drunken revelers or thong-wearing dancers, move along… this is not the droid you're looking for...

We stayed in Mazatlan for Carnaval, even though large cities coupled with the influx of a major horde of visitors isn’t our thing. In fact, we usually do everything in our power to stay far, far away from such crowds. Well, we are already here… we kept hearing how great the parade and fireworks are... we got tips on how to “view Carnaval in comfort”…hmmm, a once in a lifetime opportunity? Only 3 weeks away? This IS part of the reason people go cruising, right? To experience unique and fantastic things? Plus, we wanted to get a couple projects done on the boat and had found a great canvas guy and proficient stainless steel welder to do some work while we wait.

Book Early
Carnaval is a BIG deal here. Some say Mazatlan hosts the world’s 3rd largest Carnaval, after Rio and New Orleans. Held the week before Lent for the past 118 years, it’s also the oldest Carnaval in Mexico. This city of ½ a million doubles in size with visitors before and after the week-long fiesta. Don’t bother trying to get a hotel room last minute; El Cid was booked solid well in advance (rumor is at a pricey $300 a night…expensive, even for Mexico). Luckily, slip renters are not charged this Carnaval “premium”.

Puerto Viejo Restaurant Viewing Area
One major Carnaval event is a massive…and I mean MASSIVE… fireworks display, symbolizing the 1864 battle during which French forces tried to overtake the city. We had reservations at Puerto Viejo, a small, open-air restaurant across from the ocean at Olas Altas Beach near the Freeman Hotel. Our vantage point was spectacular. To give spatial context: the restaurant faces the main drag, directly across from us on the opposite side of the street is a musical stage set up on the boardwalk which we can see from our table. Right in back of that is the beach lined with a cadre of fireworks guys. Before the crowd shows up, we walk a bit and see the fireworks staged in the sand not 200 yards away from our restaurant and mere FEET away from beach-sitting spectators. SO not OSHA-approved. Oooh, this is going to be interesting!

Advance Payment…in Person
We arrive at 5pm to ensure a decent parking spot and that our reservation wasn’t “accidentally” usurped. (Stop by a week or two in advance to pay for reservations and choose a table.) For 350 pesos pp ($20), we are allowed to sit at Puerto Viejo all night along. We drank Pacificos and munched on everything shrimp: shrimp tacos, shrimp quesadillas and shrimp nachos while waiting for the crowd to gather in the street and the festivities to begin. Over 5 hours!

Chairs and Bathrooms Make Happy Campers
We learned real quick that the KEY to this reservation arrangement is the chairs and the use of a clean bathroom. Standing for 5 hours was not high on our to-do list; squeezing our butts into a 1-foot area on a hard, cement seawall and not moving the entire time lest someone steal our spot was another alternative. Quality of life people: sometimes it PAYS to PAY for chairs and relatively clean restrooms… with toilet paper and working faucets…instead of braving a leaking portapotty. Heading back to the car: “Hey guys, what’s all this watery, smelly runoff flooding the back streets… it hasn’t rained.”  “Don’t ask…and don’t step in it, either.”

Packed Like Sardines
Nothing happens in Mexico ‘til after dark. Luckily we had a live band, good people-watching, good company and good conversation as distractions, so our wait was highly enjoyable. Gradually the crowd gathered on the street in front of our restaurant. By 9pm people were swarming, buzzing about choosing their final spot, standing cheek to cheek waiting for the show. Not a great place if claustrophobia is an issue. We were previously warned to wear toed shoes, wallets in front pockets, no loose purses or backpacks for obvious reasons. With thousands upon thousands of people packed tightly into the street, butt to boob, feet are bound to get a little mashed; protruding pockets invite potential for picking.

Sitting at the restaurant at 10pm, we joked that all the gringos are looking at our watches thinking: “When is this going to start? Don’t ALL fireworks shows start at 9:15pm? It’s past my bedtime!” But at 10pm the locals are just getting started! Eating dinner at 10pm and staying up ‘til 4am for a fiesta is normal. So as we were leaving at midnight heading out of the area, we noted all the young’uns headed IN, dressed to the nines and ready for a night on the town. Whew! Past my bedtime!

The Battle Begins
Around 10:30pm, the Mock Naval Battle finally commences. Mazatlan wins both then and now as a more spectacular pyro-technic display we have not seen, not even at Disneyworld. Barges anchored just off shore act as the French invader man-o-war “Le Cordeliere” setting off cannons from the water; the beach “defensive positions” return fire from multiple locations along the Malecon; bright white spotlights point out to sea while colored laser lights wildly splay over the crowd; the entire ½ hour spectacle is timed to a soundtrack.

While we couldn’t see the bombs “attacking” the ship since the stage was in our way, we were right in the thick of the beach battle. I mean… IN it! Strict U.S. fire safety regulations would have totally prohibited the crowd’s proximity. Here, colorful stars are exploding right above our heads, fired upwards from the beach directly in front of us. Multiple streamers shoot out towards the water like massive blow torches symbolizing arching, fiery cannonballs. We are virtually surrounded in a 3D half-dome, enveloped by fireworks. The crowd doesn’t move… each one of us is a star-struck, wide-eyed, giggling little kid. Ooooh, ahhhh, whooaa…What an amazing experience!

For proper perspective, watch the 5 minute VIDEO I uploaded to YouTube. Best video so far, although the music is distorted since we were right next to the speakers. Plus, you get to see our nephew’s Flat Jack (Flat Stanley’s friend) watching the fireworks with us.

Beehive Exit
Exiting the jam-packed street was like playing Mexican train for real. Reminiscent of a busy beehive, parallel and opposing conga lines quickly form… everyone slowly shuffles along, holding onto the hoodie or collar or hair of the person in front of you, hoping not to lose sight of them in the masses. Do not trip - you risk getting trampled. Although this is a very controlled crowd so I have a feeling you’d get stepped on by only a few people before someone would halt the procession.

Actually, we were quite impressed by the placidness of the mob… other than a couple irritable people, no setting fire to cars, no gunshots, no drunken disorderliness, no pushy-crazies. This isn’t LA after a lost Lakers game. Maybe that all happens afterwards, I mean it’s still early. Turns out, I heard there was somewhere around 100 arrests/citations for the entire night… and half of them were for peeing in the street. Wait, so THAT’s what I’ve been stepping in? Another reason not to wear flip-flops tonight.
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The Burning of Bad Humor
Every year on this same night, Mazatlan Carnaval burns in effigy a symbol of “bad humor” to dispel all evil so the rest of Carnaval can be “free of bad feelings”. A large piñata representing an evil individual (as voted on by locals) is strung up and paraded down the street. Stuffed with fireworks and set ablaze among the crowd, this is a much-anticipated event during the evening of the Naval Battle. We saw the effigy parade but didn’t want to wrestle through the crowd to watch the torching.  For this year’s effigy…they chose the infamous Donald Trump.

Now, before you start snorting with laughter or grinning with glee (I know who you are:), thinking how terribly funny or cool that is…think about it. I’m not a Trump fan. Let’s get that straight. But even I felt a tad bit insulted. This is Mexico still, right? Corrupt Mexican political figures seem to dominate the effigy spotlight year after year; and I know there is NO shortage of evil/corrupt politicians to choose from here. So, you mean to tell me that in this ENTIRE gigantic country, there’s not a SINGLE person who represents MORE EVIL than Trump, a foreigner? Are you kidding me?

Let’s have some context and compare Trump to last year’s appropriately evil effigy: a mayor and his wife. This couple ordered their corrupt police force to arrest 43 protesting student teachers and to, essentially, “make them go away”. Those police promptly handed the students over to the local cartel - all 43 have since “disappeared”. Quite the vile act, right? Now THAT’s a good effigy. Movie-worthy, actually.

What about a certain recently-re-captured, most-wanted, drug lord responsible for murdering thousands? THAT guy wasn’t on the list? Seriously? Well, I suppose the effigy committee is worried about retribution… I mean, if El Chapo finds out they burned his likeness, he’s liable to get pretty ticked off and have them all “made to go away” from his jail cell. So no, let’s go with a foreign political nominee, we just can’t think of anyone else.

But what do I know. One year they burned a likeness of the losing local baseball team. As luck would have it, this very night in fact, the local Mazatlan Venados baseball team won the 2016 Caribbean World Series. So the Venados are fortunately safe from the torch… at least as long as Trump keeps talking...which looks like it could be awhile!

Don’t try this at home…
Just north of Olas Altas beach along Mazatlan's oceanfront boardwalk, spectators gather to watch brave (or crazy) individuals jump off a 50ft high cliff into the ocean.

These “Clavadistas”, as they are called here in Mazatlan, are professional cliff-divers. Rumor has it the first diver did it on a bet back in the mid-1900’s. Since then, day in and day out… noon ‘til night… the clavadista’s job is to soar off a 50ft high platform in return for a few pesos donation. Doesn’t sound like a lot of fun to DO, but it IS fun to watch.

After a substantial enough crowd assembles, the diver climbs up onto his platform. Standing precariously at the cliff edge, we watch him warming up and checking ocean conditions. Each dive requires careful monitoring of the wave patterns, timing his entry perfectly into seas as low as 8ft deep! That’s ridiculously LOW. These high-fliers perform in all conditions…at low tide, between big crashing waves, in the rain…oh wait, I forgot…it never rains here. He even dives at night carrying a torch!

Suddenly, our clavadista plummets head-first into a quarry of rock-strewn waters! We got one decent shot of him falling into the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Whew! From that angle it looks as though he didn’t push far enough off the cliff face. But his tiny head quickly pops up to the surface far below, bobbing like a basketball amongst the waves crashing through the small gap in the rocks. Of course my GoPro seized up just as I was about to take a video. GoFigure!

Tired of the beach scene, we yearned for mountain views, so I booked a tour to the mile-high capital city of Durango, located in the adjacent state of…uh… Durango.

Pronatours
Pronatours offers a terrific, 12-hr guided tour of Durango via a 16-passenger Mercedes Sprinter van for $108pp. Victor, our guide, was amazing, keeping us entertained and well-informed throughout the day.

Due to the long drive, we had a 6:20am pickup time…waaay too early! Unfortunately, I mis-remembered the opening time of the coffee shop. No coffee or muffins for you! Luckily, our tour includes a “breakfast” box, or so I thought. A triple-decker ham & cheese sandwich is not exactly what I want to eat at 7am. Oh, the excitement when our van stopped at OXXO along the way - free coffee or mochas for everyone! Nice touch Pronatours. So very helpful of you to keep my better half on his daily meds - caffeine deprivation is not a pretty sight.

The Road to Durango
On a normal tour, the road you travel is just a means to the tourist destination. In this case, the newly completed Durango-Mazatlan Highway is PART of the tour. Actually, it is one of the main attractions.

The Devil’s Backbone
Beginning near Brownsville, TX, Highway 40 passes through Monterrey and climbs into the interior of Mexico. The last and most difficult portion to modernize was from the mountains of Durango to the beaches of Mazatlan. Prior to 2013, it took 6-8 hours to drive to Durango; day trips for Mazatlan vacationers were not an option. The Old Highway, built in the 1940’s, was a thin, 2-lane road through some of the most rugged geography in Mexico. Precariously perched along the dramatically shear Sierra Madre mountain range, this 180-mile hazardous trek full of switchbacks, rockslides, steep terrain, no shoulders or passing lanes was ominously named “The Devil’s Backbone”.

An Engineering Feat
Once the new 4-lane highway was completed in 2013, a modern transcontinental Highway 40 was finalized, opening commercial floodgates for both cities. Now, the journey takes a mere 2-3 hours, permitting our day-tripping venture to Durango. But of particular interest is the sheer engineering conundrum the “Devil’s Backbone” presented… and the steps required to conquered it. With no less than 115 bridges and 11 miles of tunnels (an incredible 63 separate tunnels in all), along the 140-mile route, I’m not surprised a $1.4 billion budget climbed to $2.2 billion. With a B.

Oodles of Tunnels
With an astounding 63 tunnels, I could barely snap a photo without being whisked into the darkness of YET another mountainside. The longest is an amazing 1.7 miles…so long they included side-exit passageways for pedestrians and emergency telephones in case of an interior collapse…a potential issue I’d rather not think about. Some tunnels utilize cool asphalt-embedded “runway lights” planted along the demarcation lines. As the sole source of illumination, they evoked the feeling of taxiing down a runway at night or driving in a live video game.

The Views
Fantastic! But I often wished we were driving ourselves so I could stop and breathe, taking in the spectacular scenery and crisp mountain air. Our drive took us from 70 degree desert-tropicalness into freezing temps where icicles cling to cement bulwarks and road-workers gather to warm around a steel barrel fire. The landscape reminded us of the Sierra Nevadas in California. Coniferous and oak forests tower tanned and green above a sea of grey, craggy rock, rising dramatically from the earth and tumbling into canyons so low I can’t see the river bottom. A grand waterfall plummets off a sheer cliff in the distance, somehow insignificant amid the infinite landscape.

Actual towns are virtually non-existent in this unforgiving territory; a few roadside stands and a couple dinky hamlets are all we see. So at night, just like traveling the coastline of the Sea of Cortez, a heavy blanket of darkness settles across these mountains… not a light to be seen out in the vast nothingness… other than the bright tunnel lights visible for miles across the winding canyon.

Guinness Book Bridge
The crown jewel of this highway project is the Baluarte Bridge. Spanning the Baluarte River, it marks the border between Sinaloa and Durango states. While the bridge is only 3600-ft long (about a 2/3 mile), it stands 1300-ft high off the river bottom. This puts Baluarte squarely in the Guinness Book of World Records for the Highest ‘Cable-Stayed’ Bridge in the world, and 2nd highest in the world overall. Not too shabby.

I uploaded a rather wretched YouTube VIDEO of our bridge crossing. Bouncing van + 8 seconds of photo-op stop = blech. But at least you’ll get a better idea of the view. Click HERE for some cool photos and stats of the bridge construction.

NOT as Smooth as a Pool Table
“This new road is a smooth as a pool table!” says our tour guide as he excitedly conveys the story of the highway. While I am positive it is world’s better than the old highway, we can personally attest to it NOT being pool-table smooth. AT ALL. In fact, being in the last row seats was the worst spot; so much so, we had to over-tighten our seatbelts to keep us from going airborne over the spine-crunching bumps. Every time I tried to take a photo of the landscape outside… Bounce! Click! Shit! Yet ANOTHER blurry photo.

Durango, Durango: the Mile High City
Situated over 6000ft high in elevation in a high-desert setting, Durango surprised the heck out of us; it was nothing like we expected. I anticipated another Mazatlan only bigger, with a lovely but very small old town section surrounded by thousands of non-zoned buildings and roads in various states of repair or complete disrepair. Typical Mexico, right?

Impressive Architecture
What we found was pretty incredible. Durango, founded in 1563 and now with a population of over 600,000, boasts a typical “centro” district encompassing a grand plaza with stately colonial buildings surrounding the impressive main cathedral. But those remarkable structures extended for as far as we could see! From palaces to museums to train stations, impressive Spanish/French building influences surprised us at every turn: lovely ornamental columns, intricately detailed cornices, majestic arched passageways, sky-lighted courtyards. I felt transported back in time to a preserved 1800’s Europe.
 
Our city tour consisted of a gondola ride for views of the expansive city, a walking tour of the central district including the gorgeous cathedral, entry into the Pancho Villa museum, a short stop at the central market and lunch in a colonial style restaurant. These places are best described with photos – see gallery.

Boom Town
During our walkabout, we noticed something else…Durango was booming. Mining and lumber are key industries here, not tourism. Unlike other Mexican towns where many businesses have gone under, nearly every shop we passed was open…and doing business …but not with the overwhelming Canadian and (to a lesser extent) American tourists. How do we know this? Well, we tend to stand out; I just can’t seem to tan enough to disappear. This was the first time we noted being openly stared at with placid interest by everyone we passed as a definite anomaly. What the heck are these tourists doing here? And why are they taking pictures of that McDonald’s? Crazy gringos.

Pancho Villa Museum
The highlight of the tour is billed as the Pancho Villa Museum. In reality, while the building was impressive, located in the former governor's palace, the tour was…meh. Our separate museum guide spoke English but ran his words together; plus, he was a low-talker (like me), speaking so softly and monotone that we only caught about 20%. Trying to comprehend our docent’s runaway English while ineptly deciphering Spanish-only text displays was near impossible in the short time span allowed. Eventually we all just shuffled along and didn’t learn much. But it DID inspire us to learn a bit more about this iconic figure when we got home. AND I got a once-in-a-lifetime shot of Brian as a Mexican Revolutionary Army dude. Priceless.

Francisco “Pancho” Villa, Villain or Hero
While our museum guide seemed to think of him as a Robin Hood archetype, I felt he was more of a rogue warrior character, seemingly only content when causing conflict. Pancho Villa’s first occupation as a bandit/bank robber segued into an illustrious military career. In 1910, Villa helped Francisco Madero to overthrow the current dictator, Porfirio Diaz, after a despicably-long reign of 34 years, beginning the Mexican Revolution.

A ruthless Villa thrived throughout the Revolution amid a confusing array of presidential power grabs, betrayals and assassinations… very “Game of Thrones”-esque.  As General of the North, he commanded a large army and won many battles, some of which were filmed by Hollywood, thus growing his celebrity and cementing his folk hero status. Villa’s backslide into villain territory was finalized after unscrupulously kidnapping and killing Americans in raids across the border to obtain weapons and supplies after the US withdrew material support to his army. Woodrow Wilson sent General Pershing after Villa in retaliation for the murders but failed to locate him.

Eventually, Pancho Villa surrendered and was allowed to retire in relative style, so long as he remained out of politics. But in 1923, a mere 3 years into retirement, he was gunned down, most likely to keep him from inciting further political turmoil. His body lies interred in Mexico City but someone else has his head. Literally, no one knows where his head is. One of many conspiracy theories…the infamous Skull and Bones Society of Yale possibly stores it in their secret collection. Creepy.

Publicity Hound
We asked our museum guide: Why did Villa get so much hype, as opposed to many other key players in the Mexican Revolution? Well, there’s the numerous troops he commanded and the countless battles he won, but Villa also kept photographers with him at all times. Pure narcissism? Or did he just really understand the value of P.R.? Probably both. Even back then, wars were won in the media. Perhaps he was “The Donald” of his day in terms of a publicity genius.

Back to the Tour…Why not rent a car?
For us, the toll fees alone weren’t worth it; a round trip costs about $100 - expensive for Mexico standard tolls. That doesn’t include the cost of the car rental, gas or hotel (we’d recommend staying overnight to avoid driving back in the dark). Plus, we just didn’t feel like driving, we felt relatively safer tagging along with a group of tourists and it’s nice to have a well-informed guide. At $220 for 2 people, including lunch, you just can’t beat that price for a no-hassle experience.

But if the main goal is to meander and marvel at the Baluarte Bridge and the mountain scenery, rent a car… especially if you want really good photos. The tour stops for, literally, a 1-minute photo op on the bridge in the middle of traffic. Unable to get out for safety reasons, I shot an 8 second video through the open door of the van, without even looking through the viewfinder, hoping I caught “something”.  The only bonus of the jump-seat position was that I was able to aim my GoPro through the back window and capture a video of traveling on the bridge. But again… impossibly bouncy.

Tour Grade?  A-
Overall, Durango was a great day-trip. We highly recommend Pronatours and in particular, Victor, as a guide. The only downsides: did I mention it was bouncy? (can’t be helped – don’t ride in the back if prone to car-sickness), short bridge photo-op stop (again, no scenic pull-outs so we understand the urgency to move along), and our low-talker museum guide (Pronatours should have Victor do the museum tour instead).

On the upside, we were surprised to discover a historical aspect of Mexico that seemed, until now quite frankly, rather underwhelming. In this unique city, rich in incredible architecture and fascinating history, the past now connects to the present by an engineering masterpiece. I predict many more Mazatlan tourists will be visiting Durango in the future!

One afternoon we bused-it to downtown Mazatlán with 15 fellow cruisers for a unique dining excursion: Shrimp Day!

Step 1: Buy shrimp. But not just any shrimp - fresh shrimp, sold street-side. A half block length of sidewalk is overtaken by what everyone calls the “Shrimp Ladies”. These women sit under tents hawking freshly caught shrimp, fish, squid and scallops, piled high in ice-packed buckets. Stroll down the line perusing various sizes: pequeño, medio or grande, ocean-caught or farm-raised. Select your shrimp lady based on her shrimp’s quality and appearance… or her demeanor. We chose to buy from a nice young woman instead of the cranky-looking one in my photo. A kilo (2 lbs) of shrimp is more than enough for two people. And at 120 pesos, it’s a steal. (That’s about $6.66 with the 18 peso/dollar exchange rate right about now.)

Step 2: Bag ‘o shrimp in hand…walk across the street to the Botanero where they’ll cook your prize. A typical botanero, we learned, is a “bar with snacks”… and a little more. Often a dive bar atmosphere, the women who work there wear tight clothing and sidle up to lonely men who buy them a drink in return for a flirty chat. Keeps the men in their seats buying more alcohol - amazing how that concept works so well around the world!

Step 3: Choose between boiled, breaded, garlic or spicy diablo style. We choose half garlic / half breaded. The waitress takes our shrimp back to the kitchen where they clean and prepare it, right then, for 60 pesos. (a mere $3.33)

Step 4: Wait. Drink a bucket of Pacificos and chat for an hour while they cook each bag ‘o shrimp to order (takes a while with all of us). If you drink enough cervezas in a botanero you may be offered some free appetizers of ceviche or tiny tacos.

Step 5: Dig in! Of course we were the last of the bunch to get our shrimp off the grill - the slowest eater always gets her food last. But, the wait is worth it. You just can’t beat a fresh shrimp dinner for two for $10!  In a word…shrimptastic!

Mexico is known for tequila, so we can’t NOT do the requisite tequila factory tour. It’s pretty much obligatory for all tourists. Heck, it probably should be a checkbox on our visas as we pass through customs. “Tequila tour? Check, OK you can go home. Oh Bob, look here, she’s done TWO tequila tours. YOU get the gold stamp.”

Los Osuna 100% Blue Agave
Joining our friends Jeff and Breezy on S/V “Starfire”, we drove to the Los Osuna factory for our day’s rental car outing. Sequestered in the quiet countryside near the dusty, seemingly deserted town of La Noria, this lovely rancho is surrounded by field after field of blue agave plants. Los Osuna, a 130 year-old family business, is a Mazatlan sightseer institution with our hotel heavily advertising tours. Despite its high-profile, this small, quaint hacienda did not feel tourist-trappy. Only a few cars dotted the parking lot, so we nearly had the place to ourselves. After our personal tour (make sure to tip your host), the open-air tasting pavilion was a serene spot for sampling.

Tequila vs. 100% Blue Agave
Tequila is ONLY made in Mexico and it is BIG business as evidenced by entire walls devoted solely to tequila sales in every grocery store. Our guide tells us over 1000 tequila brands are produced in Mexico. And they are highly competitive. The relatively recent “Tequila Wars” involved some violent and dirty tactics, punctuated by hi-jackings of truckloads of the precious agave piñas. These days, distilleries may legally only call it “tequila” if it is created in specific states (similar to champagne)… namely parts of Guadalajara, Nayarit and Jalisco, just outside Puerto Vallarta where the Tequila Trail is found.

Sinaloa is NOT one of those states. So Los Osuna’s mescal legally must be noted as “100% blue agave” or “100% agave azul”. It is made by fermenting and distilling the inner core (piña) of the blue agave plant after it has reached maturity, a whopping 7-10 years. The most interesting fact is they supposedly blast classical music during fermentation to agitate the yeast particles naturally, rather than using additives. So… when you are sipping those spirits, know your beverage is well-bred.

Blanco, Resposado y Añejo
We sampled two types of 100% blue agave: the mid-level version “resposado”, aged in oak barrels up to 12 months and the “añejo” meaning “aged”, specifically 3 years. We didn’t bother with the non-aged “Blanco”, assuming a harsher flavor. A vanilla flavored liquor was our third taste and by far the best. At a whopping 40% alcohol content, this was smooth stuff, award-winning actually… not your average collegiate frat party rot gut.

Onilikan
Our second tasting excursion was to the Onilikan factory, situated amongst the tourist-trap hubub of the Golden Zone in Mazatlan. Open for 5 years, Onilikan is a relative newcomer to the scene, but they present a unique idea. While they do produce 100% blue agave, their specialty is 100% MANGO.

Yup, that’s right…the only distillery in the world to make mango “tequila” (they are very careful to not even mention that word, it’s a mango spirit or “aguardiente”). Not just mango “flavored”, this entire spirit is brewed using only the sugars from mango pulp. And wow, it is good! They are experimenting with other flavored liquors too: coffee, juniper berry, key lime, even hibiscus. Our favorite was their new Mexican Triple Sec with hints of orange… so good we came dangerously close to buying a $60 bottle!

This purchase would be a no-brainer IF we were still working. But now it’s a bit too steep for our cruising budget on something so fluffy and non-essential. Wait…alcohol = non-essential? I know, isn’t that a contradiction? Bottom line is I’m trying to get RID of things on the boat, not accumulate…

Tequila Transformation
Although tequila is not my cup of tea, I can now appreciate the transformation that comes with age and extended time swishing around in an oak barrel. It really does make a difference. I could say the same about cruising life. As we get older, coupled with the experiences that arise from floating around in a fiberglass and teak barrel, our edges have smoothed out. We’ve become less harsh, less bitter, more cultured. How about refined and sophisticated? Please. I mean we live in a boat for gosh sakes. Sometimes I make Brian share one plate for sandwiches or snacks just so I don’t have to wash a second dish, using up precious water. Would anyone you know call THAT refined?

To learn more about the tequila manufacturing process and lore visit Tequila Connection.

Our time here in Mazatlan has been filled with a variety of cultural activities: from art walks to princess-crownings to plays.

Art Walk
Each month on a Friday afternoon, Mazatlan holds an Art Walk downtown in the old historic district. With printed map in hand, visitors wander around bustling plazas and quiet back streets in search of the next spot. Once inside, sip a glass of wine or snack on some queso and chips while perusing local art. The artists (either native Mazatlecos or retired gringos) are often available for questions/conversation or, of course, purchases. Some of the locations are boutique shops selling unique objects, some are artist’s flats, one happened to be an elaborate home with canvasses or murals in every room. Items range from paintings to photography to mixed media, even jewelry or textiles.

Paintings by Rafael Avila Tirado
My favorite was Rafael Avila Tirado who painted several beautiful works of caballeros and children; even his plain wooden & barbed wire fences were lovely. One thought-provoking piece stood out: a honeycomb with shrouded, sleeping individuals in bar-coded cells, one girl finally waking up and climbing out. Rafael was in the midst of finishing a work of 3 children sitting in a tiny aluminum washtub boat, gossamer sails flowing under a starry eve. Beautiful. I can’t find a website for his work but here is a YouTube video.

Artistic License
But there was one stop… oh, it was the worst. I was embarrassed by my overwhelming desire to take a photo, only to prove its demerit. So I refrained. How dare I subject you to the absurdity? Plus, displaying it to the world simply to mock its ridiculousness seemed a tich disrespectful. I would have had to take the photo right in front of the artist. I am critical, just not THAT malicious. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t mock it with words.

Picture a plain room of dull watercolor paintings, in the center of which is a large wooden table showcasing numerous small statues. Ceramic? Not sure. I couldn’t bring myself to study them intently, not wanting to show false interest. You see, every piece is the same: a 2” wide sock-like thing that tapers off at the end, each black and white zebra-print. Its mouth sits flat on the table, the sock rising vertically for several inches straight up, then it flops over like a gnome’s stocking hat. Whaaaat is THAT supposed to be? (Confusion amongst my fellow gallery attendees is obvious, but we try to remain poker-faced).

These obscure sculptures were bad enough, but every painting on the surrounding walls incorporated this weird zebra sock. Normal watercolor of a house… bam… add zebra sock up in the rafters. Japanese garden…bam…zebra sock. Whatever talent there MAY have been was completely lost due to her distracting zebra fixation. Some of these mundane watercolors revealed obvious misplaced drops of water from a dripping brush… and they weren’t even framed, just pieces of paper taped to the wall like children’s refrigerator art. Then more wall tchotchkes: 5” open notebooks, completely shellacked, bearing a single letter or word on a page. Seriously? Bathroom-worthy. Maaaybe. But ONLY because there was a distinct LACK of zebra sock...whew. Top that experience off with a price list forced upon us on entering… ugggh, this chic has a lot to learn.

But, wait… isn’t anything “art” in the eye of the beholder? Apparently. Look, I’m no art aficionado. Obviously at least ONE person thought it was gallery-worthy …and her art professor, I imagine. But these days, in the attempt of both parents and educators to prop up the self-esteem of our floundering children, we do them a great disservice. “Oh, honey that… zebra sock…thingy, it’s…um… beautiful. You should be an artist!” It should stop there – but then they pay for art school. The ever-doting American Idol parent has thus created a world full of talentless hacks who, once in the real world, cannot fathom why no one buys their art, gives them a recording contract or offers them a job.  OK, end of rant… I can rant once in a while, right?

Princesses on Display
On another evening, we sojourned downtown with Orlando and Linda on S/V “Cuba Libre” to Plaza Republica for a Carnaval preview. Not on the roster of major Carnaval events, this is a free “pep rally” of sorts intended to drum up support for the queen candidates and tally final vote counts. The night begins with live music, ornately costumed dancers performing traditional Spanish Flamenco and Caribbean styles. A subsequent parade of Carnaval candidates sashays across the stage flaunting dazzling dresses and shiny tuxedos. Each contestant for the King of Joy, Child Queen (7-8 yr olds) and the all-important position of Carnaval Queen beams with exuberance while gracefully double-handed-queen-waving at us onlookers for an hour (man, my arms would fall off if I ever had to wave that much).

Reminiscent of a political rally, contestants’ families and friends gather to garner support by sporting “Blanca” or “Felipe” t-shirts and carrying signs, complete with confetti bits blown about. Folks hoot n’ holler as their hopeful winner’s name is broadcast. The votes are tallied and the winners of the Carnaval King and Child Queen are announced that night (official coronation ceremonies take place later). Fireworks ensue; a celebration here is NOT complete without fireworks.

The selection of the 2016 Mazatlan Carnaval Queen is a separate and momentous occasion. The appointment itself is a highly coveted honor;  current and prior queens (going back 116 years) are treated like royalty. Crowned during Carnaval week in a theater-based, Miss-America-style pageant, contestants must excel in a similar question/answer and talent show gauntlet. I just have two cents: Why not have a queen-waving contest with points for gracefulness and timed ability – the longer you can keep both arms up and swaying above 45 degrees (while still smiling) the more points!

Gringo Theater
The longer we remain in Maz, the more unique activities we discover. One such place is called RecReo, a refurbished colonial structure turned recreation hall where expatriates put on small-scale English speaking plays, hold art galleries and show old movies. This group doesn’t have funds or space to do a real play with costumes or props, there’s not even a stage per se, although they do possess a few theater lights and a movie screen backdrop. Essentially a few actors sit in a small group in front of the audience, reading un-memorized lines to each other from screenplay booklets. Sounds a bit, well… odd. Right? Like I’m paying money to watch an audition?

I’d never heard of, nor attended, a “play-reading” prior. Surprisingly though, we relaxed in real, stadium movie theater seating while watching “The Cocktail Hour” with a full house of about 50 attendees. And it was actually quite good! Since the entire play took place in a family room with four actors, the audience doesn’t really need all that expensive scenery to tell an interesting story. If you feel the need to get your English theater on, this is the place to be.

Midget Cowboys
Here’s yet another unexpected cultural experience found in Mazatlan. We attended the above play-reading instead of the midget “Minion” cowboy rodeo show at the bullfighting arena that same night. Not kidding. Midget cowboys. Dressed as Minions (little yellow guys from the Pixar movie). What else is there to say? Wouldn’t THAT have been a great blog?

Thoughts on life at Marina El Cid after two weeks:

Happenin’ Hotel
While Costa Baja Resort in La Paz is woefully lacking in tourists (except during Christmas and Easter), El Cid seemingly has no trouble keeping rooms filled to capacity. People are everywhere…in the pools, walking around, dining in the restaurants, frequenting the coffee-shop. Seems like every half hour, yet another tour boat heads out to sea: to the nearby island for snorkeling or beachcombing, whale watching tours, sunset cruises, banana-boat rides, mini-speed boat rentals. A pontoon boat leaves every 15 minutes, ferrying folks back and forth across the channel to the beach. While busier than we expected, this is a resort geared toward families, newlyweds and retirees, not spring-break-drunken-teenagers. So the people here have been great, just a lot more of them than we are used to.

Peculiar Photoshoot
One day nearing dusk, we heard (and felt) a professional photoshoot (wedding pics) going on in front of our boat. We “felt” it because the model was leaning on our boat. They didn’t ask. We were on board, but I don’t think they knew. Not cool. You just don’t lean on a stranger’s boat (unless you are talking to the owners), just like you don’t lean against someone’s house or motorcycle or car. But they weren’t hurting anything… so we didn’t protest.

Of course I didn’t think of this ‘til it was too late… I totally should have photo-bombed them…slowly and stealthily raising my head up through the forward hatch, eyes wide, hands against my cheeks, mouth forming a big “O”…you know, the classic Home Alone face. Darn it! Life is full of missed opportunities.

Daily Bingo
Poolside bingo occurs nearly every day at noon. From our boat, I can hear the game captain announcing each letter combo over loudspeaker in English, then in Spanish: “B5” / “bay cinco”, “M21 / “em-ay veinte y uno”. On the bright side, it is a good way to subliminally ingrain Spanish numbers into my brain. After that, the pool-party music starts. “Celebration” and “Macarena” again, yippee. Thankfully, the beat dies after 5pm. Unless there’s a wedding. Or fireworks. Or both. But then the real racket begins…the surge.

Say No to Surge
Bingo aside, Marina El Cid has numerous great attributes, but the single biggest downside is the surge. Since the marina is so close to the mouth of the breakwater, we get an unimaginable amount of surge due to the tide rushing in and out of this shallow area… not to mention all the tour boat wake activity. Indigo is constantly in motion, pushing and pulling against her lines… lurching this way and that. Sometimes I feel we may as well be at anchor. At Palmira we bounced up and down when it was windy; here we move side to side, all the time.

So we’ve frequently been waking up to groaning and moaning and grinding (and not in a good way).
At first, we kept Indigo secured well away from the dock, as per usual. But the resulting motion and creaking noise of lines stretching beyond their ability was too much to endure. Regular lines always loosen over time – but here, the forces of nature slim that time-frame down to nothing.

Wanted: “Surge Protectors”
After a few days, we began to notice something: people who have been here awhile use ratcheting tow webbing to wrench their boat super-snug against the dock, more-or-less minimizing the irritating movement and preventing line noise. We’d never seen tow-ropes used anywhere else. Usually you don’t want to be locked tight against the dock, grinding your fenders against the hull paint – eek, makes me cringe.

Throwing away conventional practice, we have tightened up to the dock as much as human strength allows…and it has helped tremendously. Still, last night at 3am, Brian wheedled me out of bed (I was already awake) to adjust lines that had loosened just enough to cause a most-unsleepable-through line squawk. We are now contemplating getting some of these…surge protectors.

Rope-Soaper
Additionally, I am soaping ropes every few days. Don’t laugh. Seriously, it’s an actual thing. I don’t know if anyone else has already named it, but if not, there it is. Rope-soaping is necessary to solve certain squeaks. On the sage advice from my boater friend and former boss Cindy, I keep a bar of Irish Spring handy to smear all over parts of the lines or chafe guard that rub against our hawseholes (holes in the sides of the boat through which we tie the boat to the dock). This immediately ceases the maddening creak of rubbing lines, minimizing sleepless nights, and thus irritated mornings… until it wears off in a few days. I should start soaping other boats’ ropes…as a courtesy.

Noisy Nights
On top of the surge chaos, there’s the bilge pump that goes off multiple times a night in a nearby boat making a distinct mechanical “er, er, er” sound exactly 38 times (yes, I counted) before it stops and starts up again a half hour later. Then there’s our neighbor’s boat hired hand who loudly rummages around in the dock box at 5am before washing the boat down every other day. And the dock ramp, a mere 4 feet away, which grinds the metal ramp on dock concrete every few minutes as the tide pushes it back up against the dock - like a slooowwly dying mechanical bull. Add to that the booming fireworks that occurred every night from Christmas to New Year’s…ay caramba! Not much REM sleep!

Marina Life = Noise
I have finally come to the realization (after all this time)… marina-life is LOUD! It’s too bad I can’t tolerate ear plugs.

• At Cabrillo Way Marina in San Pedro the wind noise and banging halyards defied belief, add in the occasional gunshot;
• At Spring Cove Marina in Maryland we had the transient party power boaters who wanted the entire town to enjoy their poor taste in music;
• Cabrillo Isle Marina in San Diego was directly across from the airport – enough said;
• Cabo San Lucas had its 6am refueling panga pandemonium and nightly pirate ship dance-fests;
• San Carlos had its daily drunken-singing-bachelorette-party-sunset-cruises and a boat who only listened to 80’s TV show themes …”Come and knock on our door…” (I secretly didn’t mind so much);
• At Palmira we endured the pterodactyl macaw and Taylor Swift enthusiasts;
• Costa Baja had the Fun Baja tour boats flitting in and out all day, plus competing restaurant musicians;
• Even our awesome and typically quiet Camp Pendleton Marina had military amphibious vehicles raising a ruckus in their high-powered speedboats (OK that IS their JOB); but let’s not forget the civilian jerk with the excruciatingly loud personal hovercraft. And I must not fail to mention a certain someone yelling "Tack!" all weekend-long through her bullhorn at the poor sailing students:)
• I have no illusions about our own contributions to the typical marina melee. We were the cause of many such annoying disturbances ourselves while getting the boat ready to leave. Between the sawzall, electric drill, and circular saw... the banging and hammering and tinkering noises... not to mention all the expletives launched at some such uncooperative boat part...I'm surprised we weren't yelled at through the bullhorn! (and probably deserved it!)

Conclusion: there’s just no such thing as a “quiet” marina. Living in a house is SO much more peaceful!

Happy with Our Stay at El Cid
Other than the surge and the busy activity of the marina, we’d definitely stay here again. The hotel is lovely and clean; the semi-tropical grounds are well maintained; we have magnificent beach access; the restaurants are very good; there’s a bus stop right out front; the dock water is potable (not always available in Mexico); the pool is warm and sparkling and the hot tub is HOT. Plus, we get free access to massive fluffy pool towels. And the internet ROCKS (for Mexico) - El Cid DOES have the corner on the market so far.

Major plus: the bathrooms. It’s ridiculous how much a hot shower and clean restrooms make me happy… not to mention reliably flushable toilets (you don’t realize how much of a luxury that is until you come to Mexico).

After being here for two weeks we found out there’s even a TV cable plug-in at the dock box. What? You mean we can get ACTUAL LIVE TV… like, in English? Next trip: Home Depot to buy a cable cord so Brian can catch up on his news shows. On second thought, maaaybe we should remain in our blissful head-in-the-sand, mostly news-free universe.

And now for another nap. I sleep better to the thumping beat of The Macarena than the erratic whine of The Dockline Grind.

How time flies. I didn’t realize just how long we’d been here until I got a complaint - no blog entries since xmas... WTH? Yeah, well…we’ve been busy!

Mazatlán, with its population of nearly a half-million, makes for a bit of a culture shock to us small-towners. La Paz feels like a sleepy little village by comparison. Mazatlan is a real metropolis with dozens of major stores (they even have multiple Walmarts), several movie theaters, a beautiful brand new mall, hundreds of beachfront hotels and condos, world-class restaurants, a downtown historic district, a major airport and cruise ship terminal…and thus loads of people. Tourists, taxis and trinkets, oh my.

Discovery
In a city of this size, it takes us a while to figure things out. Daily, I research “things to do” via the internet. Tripadvisor.com & mazatlanlife.com & mazatlantoday.net are go-to sites.  But the most important and accurate method of obtaining info on a new city is to mercilessly interrogate other newly-arrived cruisers. What did you discover today, how do you get there, was the restaurant good, how much was it, where exactly is that tequila factory… etc., etc. Several of us arrived within a few days, so we are all on the same discovery train together, comparing notes and exchanging helpful tips when we run into each other on the docks. But the best way to find things? Lots of walking.

Not Your Typical Tourist
We prefer to take our time and do one new activity a day. And we never run around all day and all night like typical tourists on a 7-day time-crunch. Yes, I do remember those days… force-feeding each precious moment chock full of activities within our severely limited amount of vacation-time, thereby craving another vacation after our vacation and ultimately catching a cold from all the stress. Funny, I still have some difficulty releasing that mentality. But oh, how freeing to possess this luxury of time; we are immeasurably fortunate.

But for practicality’s sake, going slow saves us from contracting that dreaded and contagious disease “travel trauma”, symptoms which can include: fatigue, sluggishness, irritability leading to extreme whining, severe hunger (again leading to extreme whining), loss of orientation or just plain lost, sunburn, dehydration, urge to pee with no restroom in sight and wrenched back from walking 10 miles in one day. Wait, OK, sometimes these things still happen. Still, we try not to recreate forced marches, Brian IS retired after all. Plus, heck… we just wouldn’t want to tax ourselves. Need more hot tub time. Not less.

First Two Weeks in Mazatlán
So it took about a week just to get our bearings; and another week just to finally get comfortable with the place. The size of this city is bit intimidating at first, but we have warmed up to it and, after peeling back some layers, found it very interesting. Here’s an approximate rundown of our 2 weeks.

Christmas: Arrive after 48 hours at sea. Check-in, breakfast, tour pools and hotel grounds, relax, Christmas celebration dinner with buddy-boaters "Starfire".

Day 1: Wash the outside of the boat. (You’d be amazed how much salt can cling to a boat after only 3 days.) Clean and put everything away that’s strewn around inside from overnighting: (jackets, lee-cloths, blankets, sleeping bag, etc.) Discover pool. Internet rocks here!

Day 2: Taxi-ride to the mall to watch Star Wars with "Starfire". Yes, aside from getting the boat clean, this was our first priority. 2 tickets for @$9 total! Sipping wine and snacking on pizza while lounging in cushy recliner chairs is a divine way to see this great film. Fresh gelato in the mall!

Day 3: First venture downtown via 50 cent bus-ride with "Starfire". Walk through the crazy, claustrophobic-inducing Pino-Suarez market covering an entire city block and filled with everything from pig heads & pineapples to sombreros and buckets 'o shrimp. Stroll down the ocean-side Malecon. Stop at Hotel de Cima’s restaurant Del Mar 48: best breakfast skillet ever (loads of cheese + sour cream) and fresh OJ mimosas!

Day 4: Rest by pool. Too much walking yesterday! Hamburgers and drinks at the pool restaurant. Laundry day.

Day 5: Try another bus ride downtown. Buy veges at market. Discover the beautiful cathedral. Lunch near Plaza Machado, a quaint, colonial town square… finally, a quiet refuge in the midst of this big city. Buy fresh and uber-delicious brownies at Dolce Mami bakery.

Day 6: New Year’s Eve! Lovely potluck dinner on board "Sea Dancer" with "Harmony, BC" and "Starfire". Fireworks displays from multiple resorts kept us awake for hours upon hours!

Day 7: Walk 3 miles to the nearby Marina Mazatlan. Shrimp ceviche for lunch at Gus y Gus. Hot tub! It’s windy and “cold” today, so the hot tub is juuust right.

Day 8: Taxi to Walmart to re-stock cheese (OK other stuff too). Watch movies all day in the boat.

Day 9: Free shuttle ride to breakfast buffet on the beach at the sister hotel, El Cid Morro. Walk the tourist beach in the Hotel Golden Zone (Zona Dorada). Tour of the marina harbor and estuary in "Starfire’s" dinghy. Frosty cervezas at Chill & Grill on a warm day.

Day 10: A very long and very high walk to “El Faro”, the 2nd highest natural lighthouse in the world (after Gibraltar) at 523ft above sea level. Made it back to the historic district for lunch at Delirium for amazing tacos and delightful cucumber/mint water before we died of exhaustion.

Day 11: Too much stair-climber yesterday - Brian’s back got wrenched! Not going anywhere today. What did I say about taking it easy?

Day 12: Dinner and a walk down the Malecon with "Starfire" before they head south. Our friends on “Cuba Libre” arrived from the States. As did “Lokomaika’i” and “Swagman”, sailing in from Marina Palmira in La Paz. Lots of dockside chatting. Now that we’ve been here over a year, it’s funny how often we’ll see a sailboat show up in a marina and say “Hey look, it’s so-and-so!”

Day 13: Tacos al pastor y quesadillas with "Cuba Libre" at a delish taco stand. Discovered "gorditas", mildy sweet, puffed-up tacos for 6 pesos. That's about 35-cents. Night tour of the city by car with "Cuba Libre", for whom Maz is essentially their second home.

Staying for Carnaval
All in all, we can’t complain. We continue to peel back some of those layers and are discovering unique aspects of Mazatlán life. While it is a bit too busy of a city for our tastes, we will be staying through the first week of February to attend Carnaval. Mazatlán boasts (according to some websites) the 3rd largest Carnaval (Mardi Gras) in the world (after Rio and New Orleans) attracting upwards of 500,000 visitors. It is, at the very least, the oldest and possibly largest in Mexico, with only Veracruz rivaling. While we’re not exactly fond of crowds, we may as well stay an extra couple weeks and take advantage of the opportunity. Elaborate parades, delicious food, music galore, even a mock naval battle with fireworks...now THAT should be interesting!

Looking for a Window
Around Dec. 18th we started looking seriously for a weather window to cross to Mazatlán. Winds in La Paz have been abnormally high with barely a break in the action. It’s been cold there as well - in the 60’s! I know…It’s just downright intolerable that I had to break out my jeans and sweatshirt.

When I talk about a “weather window” that means we need favorable winds and seas for a certain length of time. In this case, we need a minimum of 3, preferably 4 days of benign winds. Part of that window includes time for letting the seas calm down from the previous blow, plus 2 full days of travel, and some slop time in case of a delay or the weather pattern moves quicker than predicted. Since we left San Carlos we’ve rarely seen a window that long. It seems impossible that we will get so lucky.

The Gift
It just so happens that a slight “window” was our Christmas gift. Wind maps from SailFlow.com show the big norther dying down on Tuesday the 22nd. It should be a good passage all the way through Friday, Christmas Day. But the blustery weather ramps right back up again on Saturday. Uggh. Gotta get in on Friday for sure.

Rest Stop
On Tuesday afternoon Dec. 22nd, we began our trip. First and only stop: Caleta Lobos. Think of this anchorage as a highway rest stop, only 10 miles/2 hrs out of La Paz. Our reasoning was simple: get out of the marina. It will be easier raising anchor in the dark than maneuvering out of a marina and up the narrow La Paz channel at night. We can meet our buddy boat from Costa Baja, Jeff and Breezy on “Starfire”, at the anchorage. Getting together to plan the next day’s crossing was imperative. Plus, we could easily coordinate our departure and mentally prepare for the passage.

We arrived at our “rest stop” excited to finally be leaving port, headed for parts unknown. It was a beautiful day: blue sky, light winds, the anchorage was lovely and serene. All was well with the world. Our buddy boat Starfire wandered in a ½ hour later and we met on our boat to strategize. Later, while eating dinner in the cockpit, we enjoyed a peaceful, moonlit evening at anchor. The perfect beginning to a perfect cruise. Then it started…

Trampoline Bed
Around midnight, the wind picked up. Night winds in La Paz are specifically called Coromuels. They are unpredictable timing-wise, but usually emanate from the south or southwest. Unique to the La Paz area, they are generated by cooler winds from the Pacific side of the Baja Peninsula funneling through the mountain gap to the warm waters of La Paz. Evening Coromuels can last for a few hours or all night, causing uncomfortable wind waves until they cease.

Well, this Coromuel was the gift that keeps on giving. The wind began from the west, instigating moderate west moving wind waves, a direction for which our anchorage was wide open. On top of that, after 4 hours of this, the wind then switched to the south, which means we now pointed south, with westerly waves rolling right into our side. All…Damn… Night.

Sleep was almost impossible as the boat rocked side to side as it sat beam on the waves. Bouncing up and down from the south winds, rolling side to side from the remnant west waves, Indigo was a washing machine and we were the helpless load of clothes. I literally dreamt my bed was a trampoline. Repeatedly, I woke up from a fitful half-sleep swearing my body actually took flight off the v-berth after bouncing so hard. My only consolation prize was that I miraculously did not get seasick from all that ocean motion.

5am Takeoff
The alarm rang at 4am. Uggh. Is it really time to get up already? Soooo tired. But even we “retired” people sometimes have a schedule to keep. Despite my fatigue, I held my crankiness in check and made coffee and cereal while Brian prepped the boat for departure. The freakish midnight winds and waves had not dissipated. At all. At our 5am launch time, the moon was just setting. Indigo and Starfire: rockin’ and rollin’ and raisin’ anchor in the pitch black together… this was beginning to be a crappy crossing.

230 miles and 2 days
From Caleta Lobos, we headed southeast to Mazatlán. No more rest stops. Motoring or sailing an average of 5kts, this 230 mile passage should take approximately 46 hours.

I started out at the helm, steering anxiously surrounded by darkness, oscillating awkwardly side to side. Indigo uncomfortably rode beam-on to the wind waves for over an hour. But as we rounded the corner into the San Lorenzo channel, the sun rose, our angle to the waves eased and the motion wasn’t as bad. The farther away we traveled from La Paz, the better our wind and waves. We shot across the top of the Cerralvo Channel to the north tip of Cerralvo Island, sailing with 12-17 kt winds on aft quarter (in other words, a really nice sail). Past the island with 200 miles to go, we were finally out in the Sea of Cortez. Our winds lightened considerably with favorable sea conditions…just as Sail Flow had predicted. Ahhhh. I relaxed.

Buddy-boating
This will be our 7th “passage”, to us meaning one or more full nights at sea. But it will be the farthest we’ve gone offshore. On the Baja Ha Ha rally, we only were ever 40 or 50 miles from land at any given point. Crossing the southernmost and widest part of the Sea of Cortez, we will be exactly 100 miles from terra firma center-sea. We are happy to be buddy-boating with our friends on Starfire. It’s a little more fun to be in VHF communication as well as within visual sight distance with another boat on such a long passage. Gives you a warm fuzzy knowing someone else is out there.

No one but us and Mr. Moon
And there was literally nobody else out there for 200 miles…no lights, no other sailboats or fishing boats, no dolphin escort. Once, at night, we passed a tanker by about 2 miles and another large freighter out much farther during the day. We briefly glimpsed a whale catching a breather about a ½ mile to our stern. Other than that, we were alone with the sea and the stars…and the MOON!

Aside from our Christmas present of a wonderful weather window, our other gift was a gorgeous full moon coinciding with said window. On Christmas Eve (our second day of the passage), the blindingly-bright full moon rose before the sun set and stayed with us until after the sun gloriously rose again on Christmas morning as we pulled into Mazatlán. We had an entire night of exquisite moonlight to guide our way...every minute; now THAT’S the way to sail. What synchronistic timing. A 100% full moon on Christmas Day is a rare celestial event in and of itself, last occurring 38 years ago.

Pretty Perfect Passage
Despite our rough start, we could not have asked for a better passage. We alternately motored and sailed depending on wind strength. We slept well; we ate well; the wind waves were low most of the way. Thankfully, it was not a Cranky Crossing like last time. Christmas Eve Day we happily sailed to the Christmas sounds of Mannheim Steamroller, Johnny Mathis, The Muppets Christmas (my personal fave) and various old school icons like Burl Ives and Perry Como. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Too Fast
As Christmas Eve evening began, our perfect light winds increased. The now 12-15kts normally would have been good sailing conditions as we were flying. But we needed to arrive at Mazatlán near dawn. So we reefed and double reefed and still flew at 4 kts towards our goal despite our best efforts. At this rate we’ll get there at 1am! I hate when that happens. When you really need to get somewhere, you don’t get enough wind; when you just want to slow down, you get too much!

After a while, the wind eased and we ‘snailed’ our way towards land under reefed main and no jib, poking along at 2.5kts… on purpose. We arrived 10 miles out from harbor at 4am Christmas morning. Still dark, we needed to wait until sunrise to head into port. So we bobbed about in the lumpy remnant wind waves for 2-1/2 hours, the current pushing us slowly in the general direction of the port at about 1 kt an hour. I could have crawled faster. As soon as the sun peeked out, we began our final motor to the marina.

Timing is Everything
The lumpy wait was worth it. We were so glad to have a well-timed entrance to Mazatlán marina harbor at exactly high tide. 3 issues: dredging, shoaling and tidal flow. The marina harbor entrance is super narrow (shockingly so). It shoals quickly and therefore needs constant dredging. So timing a port entrance at high tide in the morning is important. Mid-tide is reportedly only 7ft deep according to the marina. Arriving inside the channel at 8am, we saw 18ft. But this was a very high tide, caused by the full moon. One cruiser told us they hit sand at low tide the day prior - 4ft! Yikes. He luckily was able to back up but needed to dangerously skim the dredge, passing by its long hose with a mere foot to spare.

That’s another problem, the dredge. We’ve heard it currently runs from 10am to 2pm and then again from 4-5pm or thereabouts. Running dredge = no entry = bobbing outside for hours ‘til it stops. Problem is, when it stops, it’s now low tide time… or it’s dark. Just can’t win. Current advice from multiple sources: stay far to the left/north side of the channel, hugging the dredge, to avoid shallow water in the opening, whatever time you arrive.

Complicating matters, we’ve heard rumors of a 4kt current running as the tide goes out. Currents can drastically make docking difficult pushing the boat around.  Not fun. Later on in the morning I could see flotsam floating down the channel towards the sea at a rapid pace, verifying there is quite a current running. Not to mention all the tourist boat activity in these cramped quarters once the hotel guests wake up. So, all around, coming in at high tide sure seems like a solid bet for the best possible conditions and we were pleased with our good timing.

We made it!
We even survived a bit of harried docking at Marina El Cid. Performing a squat and shallow S maneuver in the VERY narrow fairway to get into our slip, we nearly clipped the anchor of one boat. But, the important thing is… we made it and were thrilled just to have not hit anything. (Not sure how we’re going to get back out again, but we won’t dwell on that subject.) We checked into the marina then made a bee-line to the hotel restaurant for much needed coffee and waffles for $10, just steps from our boat. Oh joy! Methinks we’ll eat here… like… every day.

After exploring the tropical hotel/marina grounds, we enjoyed a restful afternoon in the arms of a warm sparkling pool and even hotter hot-tub. Oh yeah, I think I’m going to like this place. No infinity pool like Costa Baja, but El Cid has TWO pools (with waterfalls and Playboy mansion like grotto under the falls…without the Playboy bunnies) and a huge hot tub AND a swim-up bar. Along with fellow buddy-boaters Jeff and Breezy, we finished the day by savoring in our successful crossing with a celebratory Christmas dinner. We made it to Mazatlán! Woohoo!

First item on our agenda: Star Wars!

By the time you read this, Indigo will be somewhere in the Sea of Cortez on our way from La Paz to Mazatlán! (Yes, this blog is on a timer.) We are buddy-boating with friends on Starfire and will be in VHF communication with them the entire 235 mile journey. That's a full 48 hours at sea. Woohoo! The weather miraculously looks great for the next few days so with any luck, we’ll arrive Christmas Day. (Don't panic moms if it takes us an extra day... or two!)  Finally getting to Mazatlán will be the perfect Christmas gift!

So Merry Christmas! From mid-ocean!