Anduril Sailing Blog: February 2017

With our trip back to Canada now over, we have returned to the routines of boating in Mexico. While at home we managed to fit in a little bit of skiing at Manning Park, a place Greg last skied at 40 years ago, along with a day up at Whistler. As for the weather we have been hearing so much about, during our short visit home the epic winter of 16/17 chose to visit us with only a mere love nibble: we didn't even have to break out a shovel!

Greg's brother Gord came down to crew with us and play in the sun for 2 weeks as we voyaged south from Puerto Vallarta to Manzanillo. Five games of golf, several rounds of beach bata-ball, kayak paddling and dinghy mangrove rides were enjoyed along the way. Gord being the sporting enthusiast that he is, every day included at least a twice shot of action activity. Given Alice's habit of sleeping in til 10 if we let her, poor Gord was confronted with some must-have-been-deadly-boring mornings waiting for the boat to awaken. Acclimatizing to the typical slow pace of life on a cruising sailboat in Mexico does take some adjusting...

After waking up the reefer systems and water maker in PV, a game of golf and some quick provisioning we headed out of Banderas Bay. We hoped for a lunch stop at the lovely las Animas beach but a heavy surf kiboshed that idea. So we headed once again for Yelapa and another yuckyish night on the hook. Remind us not to do that again, OK?

Next up was an early rising (enough of Yelapa) to Punta Impala for a layover night, "solo en el fondeadero". The quietude on the hook and a flat sea were most welcome after a longish day spent mostly motoring. The following morning having Gord on the boat allowed Alice to sleep in as we headed to Chamela anchorage and settled in for a couple days of beach relaxation.

Paraiso was next, a picturesque bay that is supposed to offer excellent protection. Not! The small opening to the west funneled and amplified incoming waves and what appeared on the chart to be a beautiful senorita proved to be nasty inside.

Our plan from there was to anchor at the lovely Careyes, a hillside community with beautifully coloured homes on the hillsides. That plan was scuttled by so large a field of mooring buoys that there was no room to swing at anchor. Being too lazy to set a stern hook, we moved onwards to Tenacatita, a place where cruisers at anchor have created a floating sort of itinerant village community.

30 or so boats regularly commingle there, some spending as much as two months at a time. The Friday ritual is a dinghy raft-up sun-downer party with sharesie appies and story telling. Fun, but golf withdrawal symptoms soon had us crossing the bay to anchor at little Tamarindo Bay, home of the fabulous Tamarindo course, rival to Pebble Beach in its magnificent setting. Reportedly a favourite of Tiger's during his youth, this gorgeous but challenging track completely undressed Greg, and even raised a slight sweat against his brother Gord's much superior game.

Barra de Navidad, just a little ways south, provided more opportunities for golf, not to mention the luxury of being tied up at a 5 star property with all the amenities available for the price of $US30 a day in moorage fees. The Grand Hotel has old-school Mediterranean architecture and also another very nice track to play on, thus leaving Alice happily free in time to enjoy the pool-side service without annoying boys around to bother her.

But after 4 days at Barra it was soon time for Gord to catch a plane home. A rare bit of wind allowed us to sail around the corner towards Manzanillo, witnessing the impressive wreck of the Los Llanitos with her broken back jammed into the rocks by Hurricane Patricia in October 2015.

Arriving in Santiago bay we dropped the hook once more and were treated to a snorkel of the 1959 wreck of the 300 foot cargo ship, San Luciano, broken up and rusting with her top-most parts slightly awash in 30 feet of water.

All good things come to an end, including brotherly communions. Gord has now flown home and still we swing nearby the wreck of the San Luciano, plotting our next steps. The city of Guadalajara beckons us inland and unless a great storm arises in the night to also wreck the velero pequeño Anduril, to there we will soon go.