Dear Reader,
Now I usually refer to you as such, although I've greeted you many other ways as well.
Now, don't think for one second that once we revealed the practical joke, the name
whenever we are feeling particularly mean. Of course, the crew has shown nothing but the highest respect for their captain, referring to him reverently as "El Hefe" (and when he isn't in ear shot, "El Hefecito", which means little boss) or "El Gordo", which they assure me means "His Immenseness." I need to look that one up.So we have made it through the Tehautepecs with barely a scratch and arrived in Mexico safe and sound with nothing seriously broken. We considered ourselves lucky.
We've taken a few days to relax and prepare for the next leg, which is the bash up the coast to Puerto Vallarta. There have been very strong Northerlies (winds coming from exactly where we need to go) so we are going to wait a bit while they pass us by. Weather off the west coast of California and Mexico has been horrific, with some of the worst storms in history being reported. Had we made better time, we'd still be sitting in Cabo waiting for them to pass us by. In the meantime we've been making friends with the other cruisers, some of whom we had met before in Puesta Del Sol.
At dinner tonight we were all sitting around telling stories about our sailing experiences. Invariably, the conversation centered around problems we've had with government agencies, officials, absurd rules and the like. We all told horror stories of trying to get into or out of a country, the annoying red tape and bureaucracy, the customs inspectors that bust your balls, the
port captains that try to make your life difficulty for no apparent reason. Not five minutes later we started talking about work, and the various jobs we've all had. "So, Ryan, what do you do?" I asked. There was a bit of a pause, then he smiled and said "I'm a Customs Inspector". We all burst out laughing as he explained that he worked on the Canadian border, and understood exactly what we were going through, only from the opposite side. It was an amusing turn around for all of us to hear his perspective. Since he didn't work on the ports, we decided he was okay after all.Today Ryan asked us if we all wanted to go surfing with him. There is a good beach a few miles away, and the cab ride is only a few dollars. Now Robinson is a pretty fair surfer, and Robert has tried his hand at it a few times. I've surfed twice. The last time resulted in black and blues the length of my arm and leg, and near fatal exhaustion.
Getting to where we wanted to surf was actually a bit tricky; there as a small river that cut across the beach and ran out to the sea. To cross it, you needed to go
through the most shallow portion, just at the tidal zone, but there was a really strong current, with loose rocks and shells underfoot. There were a few moments where I though one or the other of us were going to end up dragged out to sea in the rip current, but we made it through. We found a shady spot, threw down our towels and headed out to the surf.The waves
themselves turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, as they broke right on shore. Robert got up once for a bit, Ryan seemed to do okay, Robinson managed a few waves, and your intrepid reporter caught one really promising curl that I misjudged, pitch poled my board, was launched over it, dragged along upside down underwater and eventually spit out on the beach. Overall we had difficulty judging the waves, they seemed to come in odd sets, first breaking close to shore, then far off, then over to the right.
There didn't seem to be a consistent pattern to it, but the local surfers seemed to know exactly where they waves. The more I do this sport, the more I understand its attraction. It is much like golf. It seems easy, and is maddingly hard to perform with any skill or consistency, and years of experience make all the difference.I've included some pictures of us before we set out, and some of us after we got back. It was exhausting, and I didn't last very long at all. Robinson and Ryan stayed out for quite a while, and we tried photographing them. Unfortunately I mistook one of the local surfers for Robinson (those Mexicans all look alike) so I
Rain needs to be going back soon, so we will be losing one of the most fun crew members we've had in a while. Although we've teased her mercilessly, she has given as good as she got. Her cutting remarks, withering stare and most especially, that innocent look when she has just poured ice water down your back.
We leave for Puerto Escondito next, its about a day away, and then on to Zihautanejo and eventually to Puerto Vallarta. We hope everyone is doing well, and we look forward to seeing you all as soon as we can.
Cheers,
Robb
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