Zihuatanejo to Acapulco

I ended up hanging out in Zihuatanejo for the holidays and shortly after Christmas, my friends Nicola and Kim flew down for the trip to Acapulco.  There were a number of "firsts" during the trip south, including a dolphin-funk-jam-session, a three-person-hammock-chill, and an American-themed-New-Years-Eve-dance-party.

I spent the last couple weeks of December hanging around Zihuatanejo and I really grew to love the town.  Nearby Ixtapa has been heavily developed into a tourist haven, and while Zihua also has its fair share of tourism, it retains a fishing town charm that feels much more authentic than most ports on the Pacific coast of Mexico.  Its also filled with delicious restaurants and a vibrant nighttime public square that hosts multitudes of food vendors and lots of live entertainment.  

I feasted on everything from steak tacos to chicken tamales to roasted plantains to ham and cheese covered hamburguesas.  Everything in the public square was delicious, fresh, and cheap!  

You've perhaps noticed that it is very rare that I include a picture from around town.  I do this to avoid looking like a dumb, gringo tourist.  While there is no getting around the fact that I'm a honky (I did my best with that mustache!), I see lots of ignorant American tourists down here that have no understanding of Mexican language and culture as well as none of the common courtesy that strangers in a strange land should have.  I think that walking around with a big camera danging around my neck leads to less genuine interactions with folks on a day to day basis and throws me in the same category as the ignorant tourists I despise so much.  

I did, however, carry my camera along in my backpack one evening to try and catch the sunset over the harbor.  Huatulco is surrounded by big hillsides and I climbed one that was east of town late one afternoon.  I found myself at the top of the hill with plenty of time to spare, and sat down on a bench on the side of the road with a handful of taxi drivers that were waiting there.  We struck up a conversation and I learned quite a bit more about town.  There was a little tienda close by and I figured a cold beer wouldn't hurt.  I asked the cab drivers if they wanted anything and everyone was steadfast about not drinking beer, but one guy asked for a coca-cola.  I came back with the supplies and out of the coke guy's pocket came a little tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol.  My eyes got real wide and he mimed the action of mixing it with his coke.  They all agreed and explained just how delicious this dubious combination was.  In the end, he just used it to clean his windows.

See the Rascal - bottom center

One of my old coworkers from Black Diamond happened to have a house a little way up the coast and he was kind enough to invite me to spend Christmas with he and his wife.  Chris spent ages as the VP of sales for BD and has just recently retired.  Their place down in Troncones was simple and beautiful and the view from their back porch was tough to beat.  We spent Christmas Eve night chowing down on delicious chicken mole at a local restaurant, drinking beers and margaritas, and generally carousing around town.  We woke up to find that Santa brought us some swell during the night.  

We spent the morning surfing and eating chilaquiles and then went up into the hills a ways to visit a little ranch that a friend of his owns.    They were kind enough to give me a ride back to Zihua and we went out to the Rascal to enjoy a few beers.  Their hospitality during the holidays was much appreciated, especially so far away from home!

My friends Nicola and Kim flew into Mexico City and ended up taking a night bus down to Zihua.  I picked them up around 7am and we really hit the ground running.  After filling up with a big local breakfast, we hopped in the superhighway and powered across the bay to a beach on the far side.  It was a really hot day and some swimming was just what we needed.  A couple of beers  and rum drinks also helped to beat the heat.  We eventually worked our way back to the Rascal and kept the theme alive with more rum drinks and a diving competition.  

The girls brought me all sorts of awesome gifts, including a huge two person hammock to replace the one I had broken a few months back.  After another couple of rum drinks, we decided that we could probably even fit three people in it.  Lo and behold, we were right!  They even brought an American flag themed Captain's hat.  If that's not up my alley, I don't know what is!

It just happened to be Kim's birthday that night, so after a quick siesta, we went into town in search of a big seafood feast.  We walked around and explored for a while, found a stand that sold cheap micheladas by the liter, and eventually settled into a beach-side restaurant.  The dinner was delicious, with lots of guacamole, some killer shrimp tacos, an astoundingly good shrimp soup, and a big plate of beans and cheese.  Details of the rest of the night are hazy, but I do recall some dancing to the band that was playing in the public square as well as a few late-night roasted plantain snacks.  I also briefly picked up the nickname Pancho Villa after the Mexican general that reportedly had several wives.

The next morning came way too early and we went into town to provision for the week.  With a stop at the big public market as well as the ordinary grocery store and the liquor store, we were fully stocked and the Rascal was fully ready for the adventure of the coming week.  The first day's sailing was short - just 10 miles to the village of Petatlan.  There was a glorious sunset that night and we enjoyed it with a few cocktails on the front deck.  

I have, never in my life, met girls with such a deep love of cheese, and since Kim is a pescatarian, we decided that a big cheesy shrimpy pasta dish would be just the thing for our first night at anchor.  We paired it with a beautiful starry sky and made a fairly early night of it.

There was (what appeared to be) a nice gently sloping grassy hillside right next to our anchorage, and we decided we should probably walk up it to catch the sunrise the next morning.  You could even make out a few game trails up the side and some cattle grazing.  There was no obvious spot to land the dinghy so we had to do some improvising, and the girls were really helpful in hauling the superhighway up on the rocks.  

After a few minutes of trying to work our way up from the beach, it became clear that this wasn't the friendly grassy knoll that we had envisioned.  The game trails were sparse and petered out quickly and everything was totally soaked in dew from the night before.  

The girls were good sports, however, and we powered through the tall, steamy grass towards the summit.  

The view of the estuary and out into the sea beyond was gorgeous, and well worth the arduous climb.  

We eventually emerged at the bottom of the grassy jungle with scratches, scrapes, hitchhiking burrs and brambles, and a few stubbed toes.  A good long soak in the restorative, cooling, salt water set us straight and we soon departed for our next port of call.  

We decided we probably ought to listen to funk all day long and before we had made our first mile to the south, we were surrounded by a big pod of dolphins.  We had just learned one of the eternal truths of the depths of the ocean - dolphins love funk music.  

Kim and Nic even had a romantic "Titanic" moment up on the bow.  

As you can imagine, with James Brown belting it out over the speakers, and a cooler full of beer, we had a pretty arduous day.  

The funk was also successful in "calling in" all sorts of other sea life and we saw whales, jumping stingrays, sea turtles, a sea snake, and Nicola caught the biggest fish of her life on the handline, a Sierra!

She was also unfortunate enough to learn a second eternal truth of the depths of the ocean that afternoon - fish love to poop on beautiful women.  

We pulled into our next port - a tiny fishing village -  just as sun was setting and we took the dinghy in to see if we could get into any trouble.  We got swamped a bit on the dinghy entrance, but managed to haul it up on shore with reasonable aplomb.  All of the restaurants were closing down and the little town appeared to be pretty dead.  As we prepared to head back out to the Rascal, the swell seemed to build a bit.  We devised a plan for pushing back out into the surf that involved the girls pushing until the water got up to their jorts, some hasty rowing, and lots of crossed fingers.  The first attempt was a complete and utter failure and a huge wave broke right over the top of the Superhighway, totally swamping us and soaking everyone to the bone.  We quickly retreated to the safety of the beach.  

On the second attempt, we realized that the motor was our only option and we all prepared for war against the swell.  With the dinghy empty of water, our adrenaline pumping, and our jorts still damp, we went at it with reckless abandon.  The girls ran like a team of huskies into the whitewater and the engine fired on the first pull.  I put the pedal to the metal and gave 'er all I had.  We all turned, just at that moment, to see a big dark form looming over the top of us.  We all dove forward to try and balance the boat, and the wave absolutely pummeled us.  Water was up to the oarlocks, but the trusty Tohatsu held its ground and we eventually barged our way out beyond the surfline.  It was a fairly traumatic experience, but there were no broken ribs, and the girls went to work pumping out the Superhighway while I prepared cocktails and a big dinner of steak sandwiches with extra caramelized onions.  

The next morning, we got an early start to do some fly fishing around the point.  Both of the girls managed to land good sized tuna's on the fly and one of them swiftly got turned into a sushi breakfast!

Our sushi feast had all the fixins and it fortified us for a big day on the water.

We had elected that this day (New Years Eve) would have an American theme and the girls broke out matching American flag bikinis.  No American themed day would be complete, however, without a steady supply of beer.  We were wary of another dinghy landing attempt, so I motored them into the surfline and they swam the rest of the way with a dry bag to carry into town.  It was like watching a couple of "Rosie the Riveter"s storm the beaches of Normandy.  It's too bad I didn't manage a picture of them climbing out of the surf, because it was a hell of a sight and it brought a patriotic tear to my eye.  I think the Mexican guys sitting on the beach were even more overwhelmed than I was.  A couple of minutes elapsed, and they emerged from town with a full payload of frosty cold Victorias and smiles on their faces.  I dodged in with superhighway's motor blazing, picked them up amid the whitewater, and zipped back out to the Rascal unscathed.  

Two girls, one tuna

We listened to a lot of country music that day, drank a lot of beers, and caught an unreasonable amount of tuna (at one point, the girls even caught two at the same time, which is, of course, every fisherman's dream).  It was truly a day for the record books, and any red-blooded American would've been proud of us.  

A ceviche dinner and a nice sunset rounded out our glorious New Years Eve afternoon.  

A shy moon

We sailed all through the night and welcomed the new year with a couple shots of Raicilla.  I was on watch through the early morning hours and there was an enormous pod of dolphins that joined us for more than an hour.  The moon had set at that point, so the only light was from the stars and the phosphorescent trails of the dolphins as the swirled and twirled around the boat.  There was a pair up by the bow that was celebrating really hard, leaping ten or fifteen feet out of the water and doing big flips!  You could see the bright trail of phosphorescence as they built up speed and then you could see the starlight glistening off their bodies as they took to the air, and then a few seconds later, you could hear a big splash as they reentered the water.   It was truly incredible.  

After the silence and beauty of the open ocean, the arrival in Acapulco was totally overwhelming.  We tried to stick to anchorages away from town, but even those were super crowded because of the holiday.  There wasn't even a place to leave a dinghy on shore, so we had to flag down pangas or swim if we wanted to go in for a walk or a meal.  

What a junkshow!

Selfies on a jetski in front of the "Cruzer of Love with a Crystal Bottom"? Why not.

We spent most of the day lazing around the boat, reading our books and watching the melee of jetskis and motorboats all around us.  We also managed to enjoy a glorious dinner on the beach for Kim's last night.   

The next morning, we packed up and took a taxi into the main part of town to grab a leisurely breakfast and throw Kim on a bus back home.  Nic and I threaded our way back to the anchorage through heavy traffic and managed to grab a bunch of provisions on the way.  We spent the next three days relaxing on the boat, exploring different anchorages around Acapulco, and nursing a cold I had developed and a touch of food poisoning that Nicola came down with.  We also spent some quality time with Gary the Gator, everyone's favorite flotation device and electric guitar.  

I'll leave you with this breathtaking shot of Nicola's Zen-quality long-pouring skills.