April 2, 2013   Matanchen Bay to Chacala


Great drama on the radio.  There is a boat missing.  Last heard from taking on water. of of Isla Isabel.   Mexican navy alerted.   Coast guard contacted.  Everyone is calling, trying to make contact.  After 48+ hours he showed up safe and sound.  His water intake on his engine had stopped working and he had turned off his radio to save power.  He had no idea he was “missiing”.  It was nice to see the community spring into action and a lesson there.  If you have promised to communicate every 4 hours, make sure you do so.

We left Matachen Bay while all this was going on, without even going ashore and headed south to Chacala.  An easy 5 hour sail put us in the bay in the late afternoon.  There is no harbor or marina here, just a lovely bay with a sandy beach and a line of palapa restaurants lining the beach.  A number of other boats were anchored just outside the surf line so we found an empty spot and dropped anchor next to them.  This turned out to be a mistake.  We were too close to shore and and the waves and winds had us rocking and rolling all night long.  However, the anchor did not drag and we were safe and sound the next morning.

After breakfast we launched the dingy and headed to shore.   The dingy dock was a steep rough cement wall with dozens of pangas tied to it.  We managed to squeeze under the mooring lines and between the boats and into a space next to the wall where a crumbling set of steps came down to the water and tie up.  We have been so glad that we decided to get this folding boat and leave the beautiful sabot at home.  It is made of a tough, flexible plastic and seems to be impervious to getting banged into cement walls and hauled up rocky beaches.  The sabot would have been destroyed by now.  As usual, Alan took the power tiller off of the motor and stowed it in his backpack.  Who is going to steal an engine that is only half there? 

 Our first job was to find the port captain and check in.  While there is no fee, Mexico still expects cruisers to check in and out every time they stop.  I am not sure what they do with the information and I am sure a lot of boats don’t bother but we always do.  According to the cruising guide, the office was just up the road from the dingy dock.  Sure enough, there it was, but it was locked up tight.  It is not a weekend.  It is only 11am. Where is he?   A group of men sitting under a tree thought he was probably down by the dock so we headed back that way.  There were several people in the shade, eating and talking.  One of them was dressed in a starched white shirt and dark blue pants.  That had to be him.  Sure enough.  He escorted us back up to the office and unlocked several gates and doors.  Once in his office, he examined our paperwork at length and made several photocopies.  Papers were stamped and handed back to us. We were done and free to go.  As we headed to the beach we saw the port captain re-lock the building and head back down the road back to his friends.   We were never actually able to find him to check out when it was time to leave.

Chacala turned out to be an absolutely lovely little town.  We followed a dirt road along the rocky shoreline, past brightly colored vacation homes and small hotels to the main beach.  First thing we saw was a man selling oysters, right there on the beach.  Alan could not resist.  10 minutes later, we were seated on plastic chairs in the sand, under a tree with a dozen oysters, salt, lime and a large bottle of Pacifico in front of us.  Perfect.   We spent the rest of the day wandering through the town or sitting on the beach.  In the afternoon we found a table at the last restaurant down the beach and settled in for a feast.

The restaurant was completely full with many families looking like they had settled in for the day.  The palapa roof extended out onto the sand almost to water’s edge.  Kids ran from the water to the tables and back again.  A few dogs joined the fun.  Vendors hawked their wares from table to table.  There were no walls but the rear of the restaurant where we found a seat had a brick floor raised several feet off of the level of the sand to the level of the street behind it.  There was a brightly painted outdoor shower under flowering trees with a continuous stream of children rinsing off the sand.  A small kitchen and a large barbecue pit where the fish was grilled. to one side of the grill was a pile of fresh fish.  Alan had grilled lobster and I had shrimp tacos.  Plenty of beer and an order of ceviche to share made the perfect dinner.