05 April – 23 May 2009 Zihautanejo - Hualtuco - La Cruz - Mazatlan

05 April - 12 April 2009 Sunday to Sunday
Zihautanejo; still at anchor deciding whether to go north or south. We had originally decided to go south (Costa Rica, Panama and maybe through the canal) but, with Julies ankle acting up and the option to do other things we felt no compulsion to follow a schedule. We then decided to go north, but after two months at anchor in Zihautanejo the goals got a little fuzzy and we wound up being talked into to going south.
Had dinner out one night and on another we had a potluck on OCEAN DANCE (ITCHEN, FREEDOM, WILD ROSE, FANTASY, PAULA JEAN, SEA HORSE, KOHLEA, OH BABY and CLAIRE MARIE were in attendance). I’ve cleaned the bottom of ITCHEN a couple of times.
Cody, Molly and Bodhi’s dog, died. He developed cancer and was getting sicker. It's amazing how pets become so immersed in our lives. They are wonderful things, aren't they? They never criticize us or give advice ... they're just there to give unconditional companionship. They're an example of what we humans should be with each other.
On one of our last days in Zihautanejo, one of the cruisers opened their life raft to inspect it. Among other things missing, the owner found a valve for the inflatable tube missing. Had he needed to abandon ship, he would’ve launched his life raft, popped the automatic inflating canister and all the air from the canister would’ve flowed right through the life raft out the other side. The life raft would’ve sunk almost as quickly as it popped open! In addition it didn’t have any water as he was told it did, nor were the emergency flares operable. Someone in the marine industry packed that life raft knowing it was defective.

Monday - 13 April 2009
0700 - Weigh anchor at sunrise for a straight run to Haultuco, by-passing Acapulco. We’ve spent 7 weeks on the hook in Zihautanejo bay: the longest we’ve spent anywhere, voluntarily. It cost me another $20.00 to get out of Zihautanejo: agent fees to run interference with the port captain.

Tuesday - 14 April 2009
1100 - N16.15.469 : W098.57.842 - halfway to Haultuco. OCEAN DANCE is out of sight and radio contact. Our average speed is six knots at 2600 rpm: course generally bearing 104 degrees. Fuel consumption is about 0.58 gallons/hour, which will give us a range of 450 miles (on the inboard tank): another 150 miles with the 17 gallons I carry on deck. Estimate Haultuco this time tomorrow.

Wednesday - 15 April 2009
1501 - Tie up Chahue Marina, Hualtuco and check in with port captain. Decided to head back north, again. We’ll go back to Mazatlan as originally planned and start from there next year. We’ve rushed down the Mexican coast either to keep a rendezvous or buddy boating. As a result, we’ve missed things we want to see, not only on the coast but inland as well. We need to establish our own cruising agenda. It’ll be a bit of a bash back as the current and wind are generally against us, but we think it will be worth it.


Thursday, 16 April - Sunday, 19 April 2009
Haultuco - Said our Goodbyes to OCEAN DANCE, as they need to get across the Tuanapec and continue their journey south. We fueled up, filled with water, washed and waxed the boat, finally gave the engine a fresh water wash-down, and did the laundry. Julie found a carniceria (butcher shop) in town and that sold us filets for $4.00/lb: and that’s after all that fat is cut off. We’re all set to go for a Monday morning departure.

Monday, 17 April - Sunday, 26 April 2009
Six days at sea. We departed Haultuco for Zihautanejo on the outgoing tide, such that it was. The seas were calm with a breeze out of the WSW. We close hauled the main and averaged six knots, gliding along effortlessly, displacing over 10 tons of water for every 37 feet the boat moved forward. Night and day, day and night we cruised north. At night our wake left a trail of phosphorescence like a rocket ships exhaust. Dolphins would play off our stern quarter and we could see their phosphorescent streaks as they shot under the boat and around the bow. In the afternoons the breeze would freshen for a couple of hours and then die off before sunset. We didn’t adjust the close hauled main for three days and nights and arrived off Zihautanejo early Thursday morning. There was no moon and even though the sky was clear and the stars were out it was still very dark. All ahead,dead slow, under radar (the charts have not been updated so relying on the chart plotter is shear folly), we very carefully picked our way into the harbor. 351 miles made good.
We anchored in Zihautanejo for a few hours to obtain a weather fix and refuel at Ixtapa (the next harbor north). With a forecast of good weather, we motored over to Ixtapa for fuel. We had to cross a narrow bar entrance to gain access to the fuel dock. The surge was up with waves and spray shooting 20 feet in the air as they crashed furiously on the jetty. I lined us up and we surfed through the entrance at 8.5 knots, with the depth sounder reading as low as 0.2 feet (that puts a twist in your knickers). After refueling we had to face the same surge over the same bar in the same, very narrow entrance, to escape. I eased into the staging area, not fully convinced I was going to try it. I trice circled the boat, trying to judge the surge, wave height and interval. I made my decision, lined us up and pushed the throttle all the way forward. ITCHEN quickly began to make way and in the short distance to the bar was up to her hull speed of 7.5 knots. I watched anxiously, as the depth sounder dropped … 0.9 … 0.7 … 0.5, and the huge tidal surge rose to throw us back onto the rocks. ITCHEN met the surge, tucked it underneath her hull and vaulted over the crest and into open, deep water. I turned around to look at what we had just cleared. I patted ITCHEN on the hull (much like a cowboy pats his horses neck) with a few words of endearment. ITCHEN, showing her stern to the bar, craned her bow around as if to say, “That’s it? … That’s all you got!?”
Underway, with plans to refuel in Barra de Navidad, we passed the city of Lorenzo Cardenas at dusk and needed to alter course to avoid the supertankers which were anchored a couple of miles off shore. Lorenzo Cardenas is quite the industrial port with the huge shipping cranes (the only ones we’ve seen in Mexico) and container ship traffic as well as the oil tankers. The harbor and its approaches are shallow for some distance out and only a few freighters at time can enter the port, which discourages small vessel traffic.
Our speed was so good and we passed Barra de Navidad at 0400, four hours ahead of schedule. Our fuel was holding so we decided to press on to either La Cruz (Bandera’s Bay) or San Blas (Mantanchen Bay) 70 mile north of La Cruz. Again, almost perfect sailing: not a cloud in the sky, temperature about 80 degrees, light breeze off the forward quarter, close hauled main, no wind waves and long, and long, languid swells. ITCHEN virtually leapt through the waves gently pitching us back and forth like an overstuffed rocking chair. We passed the time talking, reading, sleeping, eating, watching movies, enjoying the occasional afternoon cocktail and attending our watch duties.
We rounded Cabo Correntas (the southern edge of Bandera’s Bay) at dusk on Saturday evening and needed to make a decision to continue on to San Blas or head into La Cruz. We chose La Cruz and at 0230 we dropped the anchor outside of the marina. We had to reset the hook three times before it finally stuck; a problem I’ve not had with the Danforth before. After a long voyage and at that early hour we got a little testy, but we got the anchor set.. 358 miles made good.

Sunday, 26 April - Friday, 30 April 2009
Sunday morning we weighed anchor moving the boat into the marina. La Cruz Marina and Yacht Club is a beautiful, brand new facility. The marina is nearly empty which makes the long, wide slips appear to even larger. I think these are the longest slips I've I seen, some in excess of 100 feet (they have obviously been built for larger yachts). I don’t expect the marina will stay empty for long with facilities that include laundry and showers, a clubhouse rooftop sun deck complete with lounging couches, and a restaurant overlooking the marina. The adjacent town known properly as La Cruz de Haunacaxtle, is having a week-long festival (to their patron Saint) which includes 10 loud cannon shots at 0600 each morning. Each evening the entire village slowly processes around the town square and into the church (complete with blaring trumpets and cannon shots). It’s quite a noisy affair. Evenings we would meet fellow cruisers for dinner: eating at the local vendors, two of the British restaurants, and one German restaurant.
We departed La Cruz Friday morning for the 30-hour sail to Mazatlan, where we’ll have the boat hauled and bottom painted, and if I can get a good deal I’ll have the hull and deck painted as well. We’ll put the boat up for the summer in Mazatlan, stripping off all sails and canvas, disconnecting all the electrical components and prophylacticly bombing the boat for bugs. Then it’s off to old Blighty.

Saturday, 1 May – 23 May, 2009
1500 - Arrived Mazatlan without incident. The totals from Hualtuco to Mazatlan were 930 miles made good, 158 hours underway (6.5 days), and 81 gallons of fuel used (0.51 gallons/hour) at an average speed of 5.88 knots at 2200 rpm. We tied up at Singlar Marina and rested for the remainder of the weekend. I spoke with TYW about the painting on the boat and we struck a pretty good deal. We’ve begun preparing the boat for the summer lay-up: stripping the canvas, changing the oil, bug-bombing to prevent roaches and generally downsizing: eliminating excess and unused clothing and gear as well as eliminating one of our refrigerators. We’ll probably get a couple of solar panels, which will eliminate our need to run the engine. I’m not sure the juice is worth the squeeze, but it is an alternatives source of power for our electrical needs should the engine fail or run dry of fuel.
It was a little windy the morning we motored over to the fuel dock to top off our tanks. Using the wind we sidled up to the fuel dock and took on our fuel. We then eased her out into the channel and back to our slip. We had fellow cruiser on the dock to help as line handlers. ITCHEN backs down very poorly so using reverse to stop her always risky. When she does finally begin to move in reverse, she backs to port like iron ferrite to a magnate. She will turn in place, on her keel, in reverse, which is neither interesting nor amusing. We make our approach dead slow, but the stern breeze is increasingly our speed. I slip the gearbox into reverse to slow our forward progress and Julie tosses the lines to the handlers. Knowing what I know about the boat and feeling our forward speed increase at an alarming rate, I lay on almost full reverse throttle, which is what it takes to retard any forward progress the boat has and incidentally, prevent 20,000 lbs of contrary plastic from taking a face plant into the dock. True to this one contrary thing about her, ITCHEN spins to port and immediately wraps her stanchion around the stern anchor of 44-footer tied next to me. Julie puts her foot, in between our stanchion and his anchor to fend off; not just any foot, but the foot that is attached to her recently broken ankle.
ITCHEN is still doing her best to wrap herself around the neighboring boat and I’m doing my best to thwart her efforts. Suddenly the marina is filled a blood-curdling scream, I’m mean like right out of the movie “Psycho” scream. I look up to see Julie’s foot caught, being twisted and compressed by ITCHENS stanchion and our neighbors anchor. She is in the perfect position where no one on the dock can get to her and I can’t leave the steering station to help her. She yells at me to move forward and I gingerly increase the throttle taking the pressure off her foot, which she quickly extracts. Between the line handlers and myself we move the boat back into the slip, not caring if the dock is hit or not. I’m fully fed up with this quirk in ITCHENS maneuvering abilities. Julies scream had alerted everyone and they all came running to assist us. We even had a couple of calls from the marina next door asking if everything was all right. Julies, thankfully, suffered only a minor abrasion on the top of her foot. The scream was good and got everyone’s attention, which prevented a certain and more serious injury. Julies was upset with herself for screaming, but I think; 1) she alerted everyone to an impending serious disaster: and, 2) she kept her wits about her enough to tell me which way to move the boat to free her. No one plans for this sort of thing to happen and wind and current can do funny things to a slow moving vessel. I’m not sure a lot can be learned from this other than never use anything that breaths as a boat fender.