Even a Weak Tehuantepecker has a Bite

The forecast called for a two day wind lull in the northerly gale that the Golfo de Tehunatepec is famous for. We decided to take the first part of the predicted weather window and departed at 1600H. As usual for going into or out of Chiapas, the soldiers in their camouflage (and packing AR rifles) first came with their drug sniffing dog. The poor animal clearly hates going inside boats, but with little booties installed on his front paws he did his duty and came aboard to have a sniff about. We are reluctant to take pictures of law enforcement and military doing their jobs but Alice managed to get a couple. (School of hard-knocks: many years ago in Egypt, Greg and his pal Grant both nearly got sent to the gulag for taking an innocent pic of some soldiers behind sandbags). 

Not sure why it was important but the Port Captain wanted to record the solar panel model name upon our departure from Puerto Chiapas.

Sniffer dog eager to get back onto his own boat.

Saying goodbye to Marina Chiapas and the wise sailors who have made this their temporary abode.

Sure, sure!   This blow will be finished by the time we get there.   NOT!!!!!

The dog once again missed our drug stash and the Capitania del Puerto gave us our exit zarpe papers and sent us on our way. It was a bit sad leaving because we have spent a lot of time in Chiapas and it is unlikely we will ever again see the people we have gotten to know there.

The wind was supposed to be calm the whole way, hitting its maximum lull just as we passed by the normally windiest section at Salina Cruz. Not. The ride turned into a salt spray fest, with the boat crashing through waves and the wind gusting into the mid thirties. At least it was warm water that was blasting into our faces and crusting our skin with salt. It was not the most comfortable passage we have ever made. Luckily, like a mosquito bite, the bad memory fades. But if you expect pictures, forget it. No way a camera comes out on deck in weather like that.

First sunset at sea since pre-CoVid.

We were visited by many schools of dolphins.

Damn frigates trying to land on the wind instruments.

At 0600H we anchored in Bahia Tangolunda, one bay before Huatulco, and happily hit our bunks to catch up on lost sleep from two nights spent at sea. 

Bahia Tangolunda 

Our new friends on Scraatch joined us in the anchorage the following day, arriving with an engine on the blink. Over a couple of days of nut twisting in difficult to reach locations (with G&T breaks and with a little help from a local mechanico to rebuild a starter motor) their engine overheating, battery and starting problems were eventually beaten into submission. 

Essential winch maintenance.

We took a taxi to visit one of our favourite marinas.   Sadly, the great breakfast cafe and the Italian restaurant are permanently shuttered.

Our next passage was 210 miles to Acapulco, where the problem was less about tear and more about wear. Our route showed minimal wind in the forecast, so we knew it would definitely be a leg short on sailing and on long on motoring. Figuring on 32 hours passage at 6 knots average, we set our alarms for 0400 and both woke up at 0200. “Let’s just go,” we both said. It was a good thing we did. The adverse tide en-route never let up: the best was 0.7 knots against. The worst was 2.4 knots against. Ughh. Translation: 6+ extra hours spent on passage with the sound of engine growling. We would like to say we loved the extra time we got to spend watching dolphins, sea turtles, birds, and even sea snakes. But we hate lying. Hot watches during day and long watches at night wear you down.

It was an entertaining stop at Puerto Angel watching the fishing pangas come and go at high speeds.  Not wanting to risk a dingy capsize, we swam ashore for dinner.

Night comes again at sea.

Long boring night watch.

The off watch.

We made it through another night.   Beautiful sunrise.

Nothing to see on this passage except dolphins and lots of turtles.

We really don’t like Skip Jacks much but this one was tasty marinated in lime and cooked up as a Green Thai Fish Curry.

A couple of nights at the elegant Acapulco Yacht Club helped to ease the pain of passage.

Lovely service at the Club de Yates de Acapulco.

Unfortunately, not enough pool time as Greg was madly trying to trouble shoot the failing wind instruments.

 

Clear skies for viewing the partial lunar eclipse.

Y de las Montañas de Vuelta al Mar

Three hours drive from Palenque there are more Maya ruins at Yaxchilan. The only access is a lengthy riverboat ride with Mexican jungle on one bank and Guatemalan jungle on the other. Our afternoon visit included only us and Alex (a professional French photographer we met in the restaurant); three tourists alone among the ruins on Halloween eve. The day was made appropriately spooky by the bats that flew around our ears and hung over our heads in the dark arches of the ruins while in the surrounding forests howler monkeys screamed their scary howls.

In the setting sun we tore ourselves away from our explorations. Night had fallen by the time we returned to the nearly deserted ecolodge on the river bank.  

On the way to Yaxchilan roaring along at 26 knots.

This Maya site peaked in power between 681 and 800 AD after which the city was abandoned.

Glyphs are the source of what is known of Yaxchilan.

My Indiana Jones ❤️

Meeting up with a bat colony on Hallowe’en Eve.

The only spot in Frontera Corozal at the Eco-Lodge.   Howler monkeys rudely woke us at 2:30 AM.

For such a remote part of Mexico, the long road to Cascada de Las Nubes (which runs along the Guatemalan border for several hundred kilometres) is surprisingly in good condition, but it was almost deserted. The road starts out with long straight sections and then winds downwards through the mountains. On all country roads in Mexico there are many, many “topes” (speed bumps) demanding that you slow down.  They are built a hundred different ways at least. Some of them are unmarked by signs and impossible to see until it is too late. Thumping into suddenly appearing topes at high speed makes for grimaces from driver and passenger alike. 

As unique as their varied forms of construction, topes also have lots of different monikers.

This one is our favourite.

The final stretch of road approaching the destination turns into a gravel track. Due mainly to its remoteness, Cascada de Las Nubes is fairly described as a rather difficult to get to ecolodge oasis. Nestled in the jungle, the grounds are spacious, green and beautiful. A short river-side path to our cabana leads to a restaurant overlooking the falls. Upon arrival a peaceful aura immediately descends. 

Cascada de Las Nubes

The evil ant cabin at Las Nubes - keep reading….

A jungle walk at Las Nubes.

Apparently, this is a parasite that lives off mature trees.

It is hard to make mountainous land productive, but we saw a lot of cattle ranches along the Mexico - Guatemala frontier.

Evenings are a bit dull when at 8pm all lodge services cease. There being no alcohol served, it is a BYOB arrangement. Livening the experience is the fear of being bitten. Natural existence in Mexico means the potential for being eaten alive by mosquitos and jejenes (basically no-see-em bugs but with a mighty bite that lasts a week). Itchy nights spent fighting the relentless urge to scratch away the problem are no fun at all. Closeting ourselves in the cabana we hid from the bugs with a bed-time hour that an eight year old would complain is “no-fair-ridiculous”. The sound of the river raging helps to lull sleep.

That tingling on your leg in the middle of the night is not just a vestigial jejene itch, it’s ants, goddammit. Hundreds of them in your bed sheets. You’ve let your bedsheets fall to the floor, fool. Wake up. Find flashlight. Argh, it is an invasion of a hundred thousand marching through every part of your cabana. Good thing for that early bedtime. No sleep from 2-4am while you shake your bedsheets and watch that the creeping hoards stay off your beds. In the morning they are all gone. 

The curvy roads on the way to Comitlan afford lake sight-seeing and waterfall viewing opportunities.

A quick stop at Lagos De Montebello.

Stop for Gasolina - A blend of Dia de los Muertos and Halloween.

Slow slow going on curvy mountain roads.

Hundreds of miles since the last Pemex.  In Mexico, the fuel might have been siphoned and stolen from a gas line.

Mariguanol and even Peyote - for the women who have arthritis.

Isolated rural villages.

As promised, here are the waterfalls.    Mislo-ho.

El Chifon

Cascada Welsink-Ja

Out last road-trip night was spent in Comitan. We found an inexpensive hotel with parking a couple of blocks from their very pretty and well-kept town square, unlike so many towns we have seen whose Centros have fallen into grotty dereliction. Comitan is not really a tourist destination but it looks prosperous and like a town that would be good place to live in.

Comitan 

Comitan is known for making Comiteco, a unique variant of Mezcal, made from a mix of maguey (type of agave) and piloncillo (cooked sugarcane).

Six hours of driving switchbacked, painfully slow roads through mountain valleys and villages have now brought us back to Puerto Chiapas. The circle-trip in total amounted to 40 hours behind the wheel and 1900km in distance. 

We have only a few minor boat chores to attend to and now we become weather watchers, waiting for a good window to go. We need to cross the Golfo de Tehuantepec, which is notorious for its gale force northerlies. We need a two day wind lull in the forecast and we’ll make tracks.

The dreaded T-Pecker winds.