March 19, 2010
08:24
Chacala is very easily our favorite port yet. Two days ago, we hopped into our tenders to make for shore. To our delight, there was a small cove in the north part of the bay protected by rocks that served as a dinghy landing. The west swell was completely negligible on this small sandy shore making for easy entrances and exits even after late Chacala nights. The anchorage isn't exactly the smoothest, though. It's wide open to the west swell from the entire Pacific. We suffered through the first two nights being tossed to and fro in our beds because of the beam-on swell, but soon came up with a solution: A stern anchor was rowed out and dropped to align our bow into the waves, changing the heavy rolling motion into a, much more comfortable, pitching one. Last night's sleep was unperturbed.
People here in Chacala seem to be teeming with happiness from its beauty and are thus very apt to friendship. The first night we spent drinking with a Mexican family we found on the beach that spoke as little English as we Spanish. We also had plenty of Pacifico to mortar up the language barrier. This same day, we also met a cool cat named Huck. Huck has a Kurt-Cobain-esque facial structure and a free spirit. He rode down from California in a Ural (a Russian-built BMW) motorcycle with sidecar. In his sidecar travels his loving companion, Luke. Luke, his faithful Ridgeback-Pitbull-breed, seems to enjoy the world with the same zest as Huck. Another part of the the group now known as the Chacala crew is Silk. Silk is a Canadian girl who has come down on vacation, but couldn't stick to a two week's stay and is thus traveling farther south.
Yesterday, we took the two of them out sailing. The wind was incredibly light, but got us about a mile out in 30 minutes or so. By this time, we had baked in the sun so long as to merit a cool ocean dip. I tightened the sheets, tacked through, and put the tiller to lee to heave us to. We all took turns diving in and frolicked in the comfortable water for some time. After our refreshing dip, we made back for our anchorage. A dinner on the beach, a few drinks, and we parted ways with intentions to meet up the next day. The bow and stern anchor system served us well and we slept hard that night. Here's the Chacala crew sailing and Luke getting the most out of his first sail:
March 21, 2010
11:00
How could you leave this?:
Ah the splendors of Chacala. We haven't quite made it out of port yet, a fact which neither Dan nor I have chalked up to be a bad thing. The weather has been great along with our two friends Huck and Silk. Two days ago, the three of us (and Luke) made a day trip down to Sayulita, an active surf beach just north of Bahia de Banderas. Our mode of transportation being Huck's sidecar-equipped Ural. Dan opted out of this venture and spent the day cruising the little beach of Chacala. We geared up in Huck's sweet ridin' gear and hopped on. Huck drove with Silk on the rear seat, while Luke and I occupied the, now small, sidecar. We rode through the moisture-laden air along the winding road into Las Varas for fuel. A tight right turn into the Pemex gave Silk and I a taste of the complications a sidecar gives a motorcycle. Both her and Huck had to practically blanket me with themselves to prevent the sidecar from flying, but it still got a little lift. A quick stop, a full tank, and we were on our way to Sayulita. Obligatory shot of us cruising all geared up:
The curving 200 towards Vallarta goes at a much faster pace than the one coming out of Chacala. It was a full-fledged highway. We, not wanting to fly the sidecar on unmarked right turns, kept our speed at a reasonable seventy-five kph. This was not nearly fast enough for anyone else. Everyone passed us from minivans to semi-trucks hauling forty foot trailers. Many pulling back into their lane just before a collision with the oncoming traffic, others testing their luck by passing around blind turns. It was insane. This made me so glad that we're traveling most of Mexico by water and not asphalt.
We arrived in our surf town after about an hour of vine-like driving to smiling faces from all the locals. Who couldn't smile at three amigos and a dog driving around in a two-banger Ural? We enjoyed a couple of hours on the surfer-clad beach. The sunset was gorgeous as always. Rosy rays breaking over the headlands before it faded to dark. We made our way back in the dark continuing our right-turn piling to keep Luke and me on the road. We stopped at one of the fruit stands that lined the road near the Chacala turnoff. There we enjoyed cool coconut milk and, soon after, the meat sprinkled with chile-limon powder. I had my first “yaka”, a delicious, spiny fruit and we also got some carmelized coconuts for the road. We wound our way back down to the warm Chacala beach and parted ways for the night. Just another Chacala picture:
March 30, 2010
13:00
About a week into our Chacala stay, I was offered a proposition. Dan had met a Canadian couple at dinner who were interested in a sail down to Puerto Vallarta. I, rather than being and unnecessary crew, was offered a ride on the Ural with Huck and Silk. I happily accepted it. The rest of the days in Chacala were spent doing various things such as attempting bodysurfing in the dumping waves, planning never-completed hikes, and crashing Mexican weddings. In the nights we drank, danced to any Mexican polka we could find, and swam in the green glow of the bay's phosphorescence. I slept near Huck's hammock on the soft sand with a borrowed-without-asking pillow and the stars as my ceiling. We eventually decided we should make south to meet up with Dan. After our couple day's stay, we packed up the Ural and rode down the San Francisco (also known as San Pancho). A couple more shots for ya: the ice cream man standing just beyond the boundaries of the wedding we crashed and the Ural right before we departed Chacala:
We arrived in the night and wove our way down towards the beach. The town was quiet and beautiful. Tired from the day's ride, we made camp upon the lifeguard tower smack in the middle of the beach and fell asleep to the sound of the rolling waves. We awoke to a serene, expansive beach. Here's Silk still shaking off her sandy sleep and a dog that took a liking to Luke who we affectionately named Mangy Bitch.
Also, the beautiful estuary that laid in the middle of the quiet beach.
Cups of coffee were had and a pleasant stroll around the plaza was the source of the best Huichol art I've yet seen in Mexico. The Huichol are a tribe that are now known for their beautiful mescaline-inspired art and beadwork. I'm particularly captivated by the beadwork and often find myself strolling through stands of it for long periods of time. A Huichol panther I photographed in a Chacala stand:
The crew and I enjoyed the scenery before packing up to goto our next stop: Sayulita. Once described as a “surfer-poser town” by a friend in Yelapa, Sayulita lived up to that. We arrived at a decent hour in the morning and scoped out the campsites. The beach was such a hotspot that we'd never be able to find a place to setup for free, so we looked into the different campsites that charged us pesos. We ended up settling in the one described by a rival site as the one “with a bunch of dirty hippies” and we fit right in. The nights were wicked fun as we went out dancing to reggae and bar hopped as each establishment closed before finally landing at the after party bar called the Red Dragon. In the days we would sip our cups of coffee and matte, eat delicious tacos, and rock the waves bodysurfing. Our campsite in Sayulita:
It didn't take us long to tire of this town, though. The same bands played every night, just switching the bars they were at, and the music, besides the reggae, was pretty terrible. We once again packed up and began our cool exit. Our rad exit was halted by the malfunctioning of the Ural's electrical system. We had to make camp for one more night before we could go down to La Cruz. In the morning a friend we met in Chacala, Limon, helped us to diagnose the issue as a loose fuse and we finally were able to make our cool exit. Limon is a retired engineer who is traveling with his wife Susanne in their well-equipped Step Van. Check this ride out:
We arrived in La Cruz after a short outing in Vallarta and slept on the docked boat. A sunrise sail began towards Yelapa the following day. It was an easy-going one that took about 4 hours with a bit of motoring at the end. The sunrise cruise and the crew on the way in:
Let me tell you a bit about Yelapa. It lays in the south end of Bahia de Banderas, a small bay consisting of lush, rainforested mountains jutting out of the sea. The town is built upon this remote mountainface. The result of such a location are my favorite town roads yet. The town on the side of a mountain:
We anchored off the beach (La Playa), which was considered a separate zone from the town (El Pueblo) connected by an aerobic-exercising path. Beach landings were the norm as the surf was usually fairly benign in the sheltered bay. The beach, however, being the main tourist attraction, did not merit good prices for food and beverages (twenty pesos for a coke), so we decided to go into town. A few bilingual signs led the way up the mountainside. About five minutes into the steep climb, a wonderful scape opened up showing off the entire bay to its viewers:
This is a popular hangout spot for the town's three shotgun-toting policemen who give rigid looks to passing gringos. They're known to take bribes and give breaks to the locals. After passing the sole protectors of this magical village, I continued up the stone-embedded concrete path.
It reached a peak and then slanted downwards at a thirty degree slope into the town. The roads of Yelapa are winding, confused, and narrow. It pleases me to know that this town will, no time soon, become one with roads and cars. It would take the destruction and rebuilding of the entire thing to incorporate any drivable roads. I was feeling hungry and a search for food gave me a surprise. Instead of the usual response of “Well, what do you feel like?”, I got a “Well, what day of the week is it?”. It turns out that since Yelapa is such a small town (2,000, maybe), there is a cooperative effort between the different restaurants: each opens only twice a week to prevent unnecessary competition.
Dan and I enjoyed a day and a night in Yelapa, but, due to a very narrow anchoring shelf and the high price of a mooring ball, we decided to depart the next day. We said our goodbyes to the Chacala crew: Huck, Silk, and Luke and beat out of the bay after a few tiring tacks. A beautiful beam reach back to La Cruz followed and that's where we are now. On the way back to La Cruz:
La Cruz is the happening anchorage of the Pacific-Mexican coast. It lays just outside of the newest marina on the coast and provides tons of anchoring space. This gigantic, shallow bay is filled with cruisers and fellow Puddle Jumpers (people sailing across to French Polynesia). Meetings are regularly held on the VHF to give life to the myriad collection of boats that are anchored around us. Big winds build up during the afternoons, but the waters stay fairly calm. For my last picture I've chosen a really interesting texture I found in Chacala. It was the roof of a palapa we dined under one morning:
sounds like an adventure when you meet a couple named huck and silk and have them join your crew
ReplyDeleteHey Dan--great writing, i'm really enjoying your storytelling. Keep up the great adventures!
ReplyDeleteI met you and your crew sipping coffee at Chac Mool in Chacala, as i was traveling through with my two kids, who loved Luke most of all.
Hope Dan is enjoying the Murakami book I left him with . . . and wish i could meet ya all on the beaches of Tahiti :)