6/5/13, Puerto Angel to Huatulco

Both of our cruising guides said that Puerto Angel was a delightful harbor so we decided to stop there to regroup for a day before going on to Huatulco.  But when we worked our way into the harbor, past all of the rocks, it was tiny.  What room there was, was filled with mooring balls.  The only spot that we could see would have been close to shore, in the midst of the pongas and right in the surf line.  By mutual consent we decided to keep going.  Luckily it is 8 am and Huatulco is only 25 miles away.  We should be there early afternoon.  We are so tired.  Alan sets the course and drives while I get an hours sleep, then he sleeps while I steer us up the bay.  Again the wind is coming directly towards us, but at this point we don’t care.  The engine is on and will stay on until we are moored in the marina.

The weather has cleared and it is beautiful.  White puffy clouds build over the mountain but the sun is out and the water is calm.  The coast along here is exquisite.  Rugged green hills plunge into the ocean.  Rocky headlands separate wide sandy beaches.  After a few houses and villages just at the corner of the bay, there is no sign of people.  Mile after mile we cruise along, Alan sleeping, me sitting in the sun, reading and watching the radar.  Alan gets up, I grab another quick nap and finally we arrive at Huatulco.

Our paper charts show a cluster of rocks at the entrance to the harbor.  The electronic charts show even more rocks, stretching in a long line  across the bay.  Looking out, there is a bright line of white foam which looks like it stretches all the way to the cliffs.  From this perspective it looks like there is almost no room between the rocks and the beach.  As we get closer the view changes and we can see that it is possible to pass but very carefully.  Alan has discovered another sunken rock on his chart.  No foam to mark it but we need to be sure to steer clear of it too.  Carefully, carefully we enter.  Luckily there is not much wind.  Time to get out the fenders and mooring lines.  While I am up on the bow, attaching the mooring lines Alan calls to look up.  We are about to enter a very narrow channel between the breakwater and a sheer rock cliff.    I abandon my lines to run back and take up my station at the depth gauge.  It stays between 1.5 and 2 fathoms all the way, thankfully.  Back to the lines.  Alan has called the marina and been assigned a slip. There is a guy on the dock, yelling and waving.  We are directed all the way back into the closest slip to the shore.  With 3 guys on the dock and me throwing ropes, Alan manages to bring Rhapsody to a smooth stop.  Finally, here we are. 

There are 2 or 3 other cruising boats here, not many.  Everyone is surprised to see us arrive.  We are way late for going south, or even for going north.  We have a lot to discuss about the next phase of this adventure.  But first, a quick meal and a long sleep.