Feb 7, 2013 Thursday, Mazitlan.

I awoke to a lovely still morning and decided to bake scones for breakfast while Alan slept in.  Together with hot coffee and the last egg, they made a wonderful breakfast.  We sat on the deck in the sun and watched schools of fish swarm around the boat.  I tossed a line out but had no luck.  The fish were not interested.  We had made it to Mazitlan in time for Carnival but we were anchored outside of the harbor on the wrong side of the shipping channel with no way to get into town.   I have not been able to get internet yet so I am not sure of the schedule of events but it is supposed to start today.   According to the cruising guide, there is a ferry that goes from here to town but from what we can see it looks like a long walk to the ferry dock and no place to tie up the dingy while we are gone. 

There is another anchorage just inside the entrance to the main harbor, on the other side of the channel.  On the charts it looks ideal, but we have been hearing a lot of trash talk about it.  It is not safe.  It was closed by the port captain because dinghies and generators got stolen.  It is dirty and smelly and run down.  But it is within walking distance of the old town which is what we want and it is cheap, so we decide to try it, at least for a couple of nights.  We can always move.  We do have a history, after all, of staying in funky places and enjoying them.


In order to enter the harbor we have to have permission from the port captain.  Since the entrance is so narrow, he monitors and schedules every boat going in and out.  We had the radio on to channel 16 and could hear lots of chatter, all of it in Spanish.  We could tell that other boats were calling for permission to enter or leave.  Some were given the OK, others were scheduled for later.  So here was the plan.  We would get all ready, then call the port captain and ask for permission to enter and anchor.  If we got permission we would pull up the anchor and go.  If not, we would wait where we were until it was our turn. It was going to be up to me to make the call because Alan’s spanish is not that good.  I checked the dictionary to be sure I knew the word for anchor.   First I tried calling Club Nautico several times and got no answer. Then I tried El Capitania del Puerto, still no answer.  Finally, after listening to the other boats, I tried calling “traffico”  This finally got a response and we were cleared to enter immediately. 

Up with the anchor.  Carefully out of the shallow harbor and around the rocks, past the breakwater and there we were.  Just inside the entrance was a little harbor filled with sport fishing boats.  Slowly we worked our way in looking for a good spot to drop the anchor.  Just as we let it go, we heard a man in a rowboat calling to us.  He seemed to be insisting that  the bottom was no good but there was a mooring we could use.  All the better, especially since the anchor, once we pulled it up, was covered with gooey mud.  Our new friend guided us to the mooring, helped us tie on and then whipped out a cell phone.   The phone was handed to Alan and it was confirmed that we could stay as long as we liked.  Whoever it was that we were talking to was not actually here today but at some point we should come into the office to discuss arrangements.  

So here we are in Mazatlan old harbor.  First thing is to get on the internet and see if I can find a schedule for Carnival.  After some searching I figured out that there would be fireworks Saturday night, a parade on Sunday and a final parade on Tuesday.  In between there were the crownings of several different queens and big concerts and rides and games but all of these seemed to be at the other end of town.  Tonight there was nothing happening, which was perfect because it gave us a chance to settle in.