MEXICO

The Tehuantapec (March 2009) - The Gulf of Tehuantepec is 190 miles across (240 if you hug the coast). However, it's over 500 from
Barillas, San Salvador to Huatulco, Mexico, generally the only places to stop. There is a marina in Queztal, Guatemala (Marina Pez Vela),
but most pass it by as it is in a very commercial port and very expensive to stay and clear in and out ($500 or $600 for a couple of days
stay). There is also a potential stop on the border between Guatemala and Mexico at Puerto Madero in another commercial port with a
reputation of being very unfriendly to cruisers.

During the last couple of days of our stay at Barillas, the Tehauntepec had been raging at 45 to 50 knots as a result of a strong cold front
that left Texas and blasted through the Gulf of Mexico and through the gap in the continental divide. We timed our departure to arrive at
the Gulf (roughly beginning at Puerto Madero) a couple of days later just as the wind was forecast to lay down. The Tehuantepec is very
dangerous and we would be checking weather every few hours while underway. The winds are difficult to forecast which makes it double
dangerous. During a recent ten year period the number of average days with 34 knots of wind or higher during March was 12 and the
highest winds reported for March was 77 knots. Triple dangerous. We would be approaching the Tehuantepec very carefully.

Anyway. We were underway and heading toward the beast. As we said earlier, we had celebrated a bit too soon on leaving the Papagayo
winds. The trades in the central and southwest Caribbean had been raging and the Papagayo winds had widened it's normal range to include
areas northwest of Barillas. As a result we expected some 20 to 25 knot winds off the coast of Guatemala during the middle of our first
night and planned to stay close to shore. Most of the night the winds had been very light and we had gotten a bit complacent and were five
or six miles off shore. Big mistake. About four in the morning the winds began to build to twenty and within ten minutes were 30 to 40. It
took two hours to beat back to within a mile of the shore, all the while pounding into waves one of which decided to visit the cockpit and rip
our dodger canvas and take away one of our dodger sun covers folded under the dodger. Once we got close to shore the waves disappeared
and we sailed with 30 knot winds on our stern quarter for another hour before it died to a more reasonable 10 to 15. The rest of the day was
very calm and mild. We were finally (really) out of Papagayo country. Unbelievable. But we had learned our lesson on celebrations, so we
did not.

Good thing. During the second night the wind decided to blow directly out of the west at 15 to 20. No shore to hide behind so the waves
were nice big ones, and of course, wind and waves were right on our nose. Also (go figure), there were no west winds in the forecast. We
spent one of the roughest nights for quite some time pounding directly into wind and waves. Can you say, no sleep. I guess the good news,
if there was any, was that the winds were not Papagayo winds. Maybe we are finally done with that.

During the night, we also realized that we were going to get to the Tehauntepec one day too soon (which was that next morning). The
forecast had changed and the T-Peckers would be blowing for another day. The winds were not gale or storm force any more but 25 to 30.
With the unpredictable nature of the Tehuantepec, just too dangerous to mess with. So we decided to stop at Puerto Madero, bad
reputation and all.

We get to the breakwater protecting the entrance to the port about dawn. After contacting the port captain, he directed us to an anchorage
just past the Navy dock and next to a Pemex fuel dock and a bunch of fishing boats. He tells us to come see him after we anchor. The
water was very nasty as the guide books had warned. It also took four times and over an hour to get the anchor to set in the slippery,
debris ridden bottom. We finally get the dinghy down and go to the port captain's office. The port captain and office personnel were very
nice. We pay a fee and he tells us to dinghy over to the port authority to pay a fee for the use of the port. Once that is completed he says
to get a taxi to the airport where Immigration is located. He says that we do not have to clear customs because the Navy will be at our boat
later to board and search. Anyway. We go back to the port captain's office and the main man ( I guess there is a junior port captain that we
dealt with first) gives us a ride into town to grab a taxi. Very nice guy. We go to the airport and once we find the right office (that took a
while only because our Spanish sucks), takes us less than ten minutes to get the right stamps. Immigration is very nice. We go back to the
port captain's office, show him all our stamps and he says we can leave the next morning. All very nice, except for one minor problem. The
channel leading out of our anchorage will be closed for dredging from six until one, so we will have to leave at five thirty. He was very
helpful in describing the problem and how to deal with it. Very nice. By now it's about five and the Navy is waiting to board our boat to look
at our docs and to have a drug sniffing dog have his way with our boat. Except for a strange dog being in Bogey's territory, everything
works efficiently and is all very nice. Next morning, we are underway and the personnel on the dredge shows us the way past them with
spotlights. Very nice.

Puerto Madero has an undeserved reputation. The port captain even pulled up the Tehuantepec forecast on his computer when we left his
office the day before. There is absolutely no reason to pass Pureto Madero if you need fuel or need to hide for weather or just need a rest,
except maybe that the water is nasty (but we have been in nastier water in Baltimore). The undeserved reputation of Puerto Madero is a
perfect example of why we don't like most cruisers. Most don't talk facts and revel in rumor. Okay, okay. That's another topic for another
day.

The beast is here; the Tehuantepec. The forecast calls for light and variable winds for the next several days. About as benign as it gets for
the Tehuantepec. Nevertheless, we stick to the recommended tactic of "one foot on the beach" and stay in about 60 to 80 feet of water
which keeps us about one to two miles offshore. If the wind picks up, we'll go in to 30 feet and a quarter mile. Except for two shoals about
two miles offshore, the shore of the Tehuantepec is a 240 mile gently sloping beach. The wind is very light as advertised and we get to the
apex of the Tehauntepec about noon the next day. It is one of the most desolate places we have ever seen. You can tell that the place gets
its ass blown off. A couple of hours later the wind picks up to 15 to 20 from the southwest. Since T-Peckers come from the north we were
almost happy to get pounded by the waves for a while.

About dark the wind disappears and we pass the commercial port of Salina Cruz. Just as we pass the port we see one of the most surreal
sights we have ever seen. It's a full moon and for about an hour we see sand dunes in the misty, dim moon light that are at least 200 to 300
feet high. Those sand dunes are very graphic evidence of eons upon eons of some serious wind.

After a very calm night (absolutely no wind and the water is glassy smooth) we arrive at Huatulco and find a slip at Chahue Marina, since
the anchorages for the next couple of hundred miles are fair weather day anchorages only (very rolly). We will stage here for a few days for
the right weather to make our way to Acapulco or Zihuatanejo. The marina looks nice and the price is right (less than $30 per night). We'll
report back later.

One last entry on the Tehuantepec. We had a very quiet forecast and had a relatively easy crossing. Another boat left Puerto Madero
about eight hours after us. When they arrived at the marina, they reported that they got 40 to 45 knot winds from the north during the first
night out just as they were going around the first shoal. It took them two hours to beat back to the beach and then were sand blasted for a
while. Eight hours ahead of them, our winds were light and variable. That's exactly why you keep one foot on the beach. That's exactly
why the Tehuantepec is triple dangerous.

Now we celebrate.

Huatulco to Zihuatanejo (March 2009) - We stayed at Chahue Marina for nine days. The entire stay cost less than $250. The docks
are fine, but there is significant surge inside the marina basin. As a result, the concrete floating docks are in a bit of disrepair, not to
mention the toll it takes on your boat smashing your fenders flat at all hours. We also had trouble for a few days getting reliable electricity,
but the marina staff finally sorted it out and during the last several days the electricity was fine. Additionally, there is no fuel dock (they've
been working on it for several years), but the dock master, Enrique (who speaks very good English since he was a high school exchange
student at Berkner High School in Richardson, Texas - a Dallas suburb), has several 15 gallon jerry jugs and takes you to the local Pemex
station in his pick up truck. You then pick the heavy jugs off the dock with a spare halyard and siphon it in. It's a bit of a pain, but it works.
Having said all of that, we would stay there again for two reasons. One, the staff were very helpful and friendly and two, there is no other
choice. The anchorages for the next hundred miles are pretty but fair weather only and even in fair weather, very rolly, since the
anchorages are all exposed to the constant southerly swell. So, everyone (and I mean everyone) going either north or south stops at the
marina, either to rest after taking on the Tehuantepec or stage before the beast. In addition, the little town of Huatulco is just delightful
with lots of restaurants and bars and big, well-stocked grocery stores. One way taxi rides anywhere in or around town costs less than a
buck fifty so it's easy to go anywhere. Because of all the positives we stayed a few more days than necessary to wait on weather windows,
so we missed the first one. Besides we were tired and Ellis needed to do some much needed rust maintenance.

We finally decided the time was right and headed north (or actually directly west for a while). We decided to skip Acapulco because all the
people we spoke to going south told us that there wasn't any place to anchor because the locals had taken the anchorages over with mooring
balls. So, our destination was Zihuatanejo (next door to Ixtapa). We left one afternoon to arrive two days later to cover roughly 300 miles.
If our timing was right, there was a possible second night stop at Papanoa about 35 miles before Ziwhat.

Since Costa Rica, the wind and current had mostly been behind us (with a couple of notable exceptions as discussed above). Now we would
face the reverse. The prevailing wind would be north westerly and the current would be a knot or possibly two against us. The prevailing
wind is never too strong along the coast all the way to the Sea of Cortez, but is effected greatly by land and sea breezes. Almost always, the
sea breeze enhances the prevailing wind and accelerates it along the coast during the day and the land breeze kills the wind to light and
variable at night.

Anyway. The first day and night was mild, as expected, albeit very slow, primarily because of current. We go by Acapulco about four in the
morning. Having been to Acapulco before, we knew it was spectacular, but during night it was even more of a sight. One of the cruising
guides describes their thoughts on approaching Acapulco for the first time at night as, "It's a bowl of diamonds". That' a perfect description
of all the city lights against the backdrop of mountains all around the bay.

Next day, the slow progress continued but we thought we could just make Papanoa before dark to rest for the night. That's until the wind
picked up. About noon the wind started to build (usually it's about two before the sea breeze starts) and shortly thereafter, it was 15 to 18
on the nose. And it didn't take long until the waves were pounding the boat (accelerated by the current) and crashing water over the deck.
By now we really wanted to get to Papanoa and kept increasing the engine rpm until its max of about 2,800. We still were only managing
four and a half to five knots. What fun. For a while we thought we would not get to Papanoa, but the current let up just enough (the wind
and waves did not let up) for us to limp into the enclosed harbor about six thirty (it gets dark about seven).

Harbor is a bit of an exaggeration. Papanoa is a breakwater that has been built for the local fishing population to serve as a haven for small
fishing boats along a coast were there are no havens. The cruising guides say that there is just enough room for a couple of boats to anchor
inside. The guides also say there is good holding in gravel and sand.

Well. We get inside the breakwater, and sure enough, there is room to anchor (I'm thinking only room for one boat, but maybe you could
get a couple or so in there - the question is moot because it's only us) and the breakwater knocks the waves down sufficiently to spend a
comfortable night. Then we proceed to anchor not once, not twice but - I lost count about four. I kid you not, the anchor would drag in
reverse idle. We just could not get the stupid thing to bite. And we are talking big dog here, 75 pounds of good snagging CQR. It was
either hard scoured rock with nothing to grab or large diameter gravel with no resistance. We finally go almost outside the breakwater and
got the anchor to hold with only about 1,500 rpm in reverse (we normally back down at least at 2,000 - we have a max prop, so we get a lot
of bite in reverse). By now, we were so exhausted, we just went to sleep and didn't worry too much about dragging. Anyway, the wind had
already started to die to nothing overnight and we lived to tell the story another day.

Next morning we were up before dawn and arrived in Zihuantanejo about noon.

Zihuantanejo is a pretty place. It also has a very serviceable anchorage next to very accessible beaches and a pretty town and some
cruisers spend the season there. The anchorage is open to the southerly swell and during the winter the average swell height is very
comfortable due to the contour of the sea bed. We could have stayed a while but the weather was right and after calling a local diesel
delivery boat to fuel up we left the next afternoon.

Zihuatanejo to Barra Navidad (March 2009) - The trek between Zihuantanejo and Barra Navidad is about 200 miles (two nights and
one day at 5 and a half knots - we usually travel around 6 and a half knots but the current and wind are against us). The weather was truly
mild and we arrive early one morning a couple of days later with no stories to tell. Barra Navidad is about 20 miles north of Manzanillo and
is a much more protected bay. You make your way through a very narrow, breakwater protected entrance and the bay opens up to the
town, a moderate, although very shallow anchorage and a resort marina. We stayed at the resort marina (nice enough but way too
expensive) three days waiting for a weather window. We left early one morning.

Barra Navidad to La Cruz (March, April 2009) - Barra Navidad to La Cruz (very close to Puerto Vallarta) was approximately 150
miles or 24 hours at 5 and a half knots. Along this stretch is Cabo Corrientes, the last significant cape to get around on our way to the Sea
of Cortez. The cape is usually not a problem as long as the weather is mild and you time your rounding for the late night, early morning
hours. Which is precisely what we did. The trip was uneventful and we arrived at Marina La Cruz early the next morning.

Marina La Cruz is very large and protected by one of the biggest breakwaters I have ever seen. It is also considered a hurricane hole,
even though it's in the middle of the hurricane zone, because Cabo Corrientes has a steering effect for hurricanes and sends them north
instead of into Banderas Bay. As a result, the Puerto Vallarta area is rarely hit by hurricanes. The marina staff are very helpful and it
appears that you can get quality service of all kinds. We would definitely stop there again. And the price is right. About seventy five cents
a foot.

Oh. There is also an anchorage outside the marina, and at the time we were there, there were probably 20 boats anchored. The problem is
that the southerly swell comes right in and all the boats were rolling heavily. Even the boats with flopper stoppers were rolling heavily. No
thanks, especially since we have no flopper stoppers. I guess we're going to have to rig something to reduce the roll for future anchorages.
We won't need them in the Sea of Cortez so we'll deal with that later.

In a couple of days we left on a marginal weather window to go to Mazatlan, a couple of hundred miles away. Well. As we were leaving the
slip our bow thruster quit. It's not a necessary piece of equipment unless of course we have to go into a very tight marina (there are a lot of
tight ones on the Pacific side). Our wind instruments were also acting up. We get out of the marina about thirty minutes and the wind was
much higher than it was supposed to be. Alright. Too many things going wrong. Bad omen. We turned around and went back to the marina
for two more days. During that time, Ellis sorted out the bow thruster problem and found that we had a bad solenoid. It would have to be
replaced, but the repair would have to wait until we could stay in place for a week or so to get the right parts.

The Southern Crossing (April 2009) - Okay. The weather window was not perfect. If we went to Mazatlan, we could get there okay
but would be stuck a while. The other option was to go directly to the East Cape of Baja California (the southern tip of Baja about 50 miles
northeast of Cabo San Lucas). That trip would be three hundred miles or 48 hours at six or so knots or 55 or 56 hours at five and a half.
We thought we could average six or better because we would not be facing current on the crossing from mainland Mexico to Baja. The
problem with that alternative was the weather window could close toward the end of the trip when a cold front was due to blow through (our
first cold front since the northern Caribbean). The forecast called for north winds to start blowing the night after the morning we planned to
arrive. But the wind was to be only twenty to twenty five, which would be uncomfortable and slow us down, but not dangerous.

So. Off we go.

The first twenty four hours were pretty good. No real sailing mind you, motor sailing, since the wind was light. But we were averaging over
six knots and close to seven at times.

The second morning, the wind was even on our beam helping us carve through the waves and making everything very comfortable. About
noon however, things changed. The wind was still from a good direction, but it picked up to 14 or 15. Not too bad, but the waves picked up
as well; not from the wind chop but from some distant wind that had us pounding into the waves pretty hard. The pounding got worse as the
hours wore on. Looks like no sleep for us. During the night, just as we were thinking it couldn't get more uncomfortable, the wind changed
direction coming from the north. The cold front was only 20 hours or so too soon. Now the waves were coming from the north in the form of
wind chop and also coming from the residual southwest wind chop on top of swell. What fun. It was basically a hang on and hope you get
there eventually sort of night. The good news was that during all that time we kept our speed up and arrived at the anchorage at Frailes
about dawn, averaging a respectable 6.3 knots from La Cruz.

At last. We are here. The Sea of Cortez. It's beautiful. We love the desert mountains and the contrast with the perfect water making its
way into the Gulf of California from the open Pacific Ocean. The sea life here is legendary. We look forward to spending quite some time
here. We'll cover the Sea of Cortez under its own caption.