Of stones, birds, and reptiles

After returning from Copper Canyon and celebrating Valencio’s 15th birthday, we prepared to leave Mazatlan for points South.  First stop was Isla Piedra (Stone Island) just past the port harbor.  This is a sweet anchorage with lots of palapa restaurants, a cruiser-friendly pizza place called Benji’s (named after the young owner’s dog), and good protection from wind and waves.  We visited with a few more cruisers on the hook, Jan got sick on his birthday, and Patti made him feel better with a foot massage and great food: huevos and tortillas (and homemade salsa) for breakfast, a palapa lunch including “cocos” (young coconut with milk, which the sweet gay waiter scooped out for us so we could enjoy the flesh), and then shrimp scampi and a pecan pie for dinner.
After another restful day we left for Isla Isabel on Monday afternoon so as to arrive on January 11 (2011), our 11th adoption anniversary! This was another overnight, this time J and V teamed up while P and T had the other 3-hr watch. 
An uneventful passage with a sweet sunrise, though nobody had enough sleep.  Isla Isabel is infamous for its rocky bottom which “has probably claimed more anchors than any other  anchorage in Mexico”.  So we attached a rope and then a fender float to the crown of the anchor in case we needed to pull it out from a stuck place.  Took a while to get it to set (in the lee of this great rock), but after that we were fine, and at the end it came up like a piece of cake from a greased pan.
We tried coming ashore close to Neener, but were shooed away by some very personable graduate student researchers, who  who were studying the boobie population.  They did let us take a couple of pics before we headed off to the fishing camp on the south end of the island.
Isabel is called the Galapagos of Mexico, for its huge populations of birds and reptiles, and the scientists who study them.  There are blue, red, green, and brown-footed boobies; tons of frigates; and also brown noddies, Herman gulls, sooty terns, white tailed tropic birds and of course pelicans.
The frigates dominate, both by numbers and aggressiveness – since they cannot land on the water, they survive by stealing other birds’ catches, and  they seem to pick on the boobies the most, often tag-teaming five on one.   The males have these gorgeous red bags on their chests, which they inflate to impress the ladies.  And they both display and nest in the trees, which can be very amusing to humans when one of them is pushed off and flaps around in the branches trying to get free.
Then there are all those iguanas – some of them stood still for this shot, others just wandered around or sunned themselves.  Come to think of it, we never did see one of them eat anything…
Besides their colorful webbed feet, the boobies are distinguished by the size of their young – basically as big as the adults before they fledge.  How the parents manage to feed their young so much while being attacked by frigates is a marvel of nature.  Another marvel is that both frigates and boobies were virtually fearless around humans – we walked within two feet of both of them without so much as a wing flap.  Those scientists have it easy…
After lunch with the iguanas we all trekked off to the central crater lake (sounds better than pond), and Jan led Patti on a long hike which was supposed to lead back to the original “boobie beach”.  But that trail had been closed without warning, so instead they ended up on a convoluted death march to the North end of the volcanic island (see above), and just  after starting back Patti sprained her ankle on a hidden hazard, an ankle that is still swollen three weeks later.  Jan lost a lot of points for that one, though they did have an amazing jungle experience with birds calling all around them from the low canopy, and saw many terns and gulls at the top of the island.
Next day we left for San Blas, and ended up towing a panga for a few hours when their engine started making nasty noises. While Jan was trying out various rope and knot combinations (long and stretchy is good in a following sea), a humpback surfaced less than 50 feet away.  Alas, we were all too busy to get the camera, so you’ll just have to imagine this one.  We tried calling for assistance occasionally with the VHF, but the only panga who responded came within a hundred yards and then sped off, which seemed strange since the driver of the disabled vessel said it was his brother.  Brother returned two hours later, so with the wind coming up we could sail the rest of the way and still make the harbor entrance before dark.

Copper Canyon 12/27/10-1/2/11

We took a week away from the boat to visit Mexico’s version of the Grand Canyon, called Copper for the greenish tint to some of its rocks (though the green is actually from lichen, not copper oxide).
Starting in Mazatlan, we had a 6 hr bus ride to Los Mochis, then another 90 minutes to El Fuerte.  First class buses have lots of amenities (like movies at your seat, and most important, bathrooms) – but they still make lots of stops. You have to get a Diamond class bus for anything like a direct route, and they are rare.
Fortunately we had a really nice hotel to come to in El Fuerte – Rio Vista, right next to the fort that the town is named for (you can see it in the background).  Great food, beautiful room and wraparound patio, and overlooking the river, which was awesome in the misty morning.  It also featured bats, which of course we love for their insectivore qualities as much as their fun flitting flight.  Used up most of one camera’s batteries trying to capture them on film, but it still made for a fun evening.
Unfortunately the hotel’s location high above the town meant that the disco that went from 10P-3AM was real loud – and then the roosters started up and the shower turned out to drain right through the middle of the bedroom.  Somehow even the nicest most artful places have inexplicably bad plumbing, or lighting, or both.  Maintenance is rarely a high priority.
 So, on to the train ride.  It really is cool, whether in first or second class.  First class has a real dining car and runs every day (and starts out one to three hours ahead of the second class train).  Second class runs only every second day and only has a snack car, but it tends to run ahead of schedule while first class is always late – and second is also 60% cheaper.  Guess which train we took.
The vistas from the train are great – a lot more vegetation than in Arizona, and you get to see the change in climate zone as you rise from a couple hundred to a couple thousand meters (about the same elevation as Echo Summit at Lake Tahoe).  But for me the best part was seeing people inside and outside the train, from kids and couples leaning out between cars, to railway workers and horse parties, to the native Tarahumara who start selling their beautiful work at the San Rafael train station.
We even glimpsed some real live hobos riding the rails – it’s pretty accepted here, they don’t have to hide out and avoid the authorities as they do in more developed countries.
We disembarked at Pasada Barrancas and started walking towards town and the cabins we had selected from Lonely Planet.  But when a guy (Roy) in a large pickup stopped to tell us about his place (which had been in the previous edition of the guide) and it started SNOWING we quickly changed our minds.  We actually walked to get hot chocolate and then dinner at the LP place because Roy wouldn’t have dinner till 8:30, but we got a lift back and stayed with Roy for three days – it seemed he needed the custom more.
Of course Roy’s big cabin had only wood heat, depressingly dim bulbs, and inconsistent hot water – but we got the sense of what a real Mexican family existence is like, complete with cartoons or violent news shows on the TV and a leaky bathroom in the main house. 
And of course Tino became fast friends with a local dog that was hanging around for warmth and attention. Eventually Roy decided to adopt it, after which it hung around less.  Go figure.
Roy also signed on to be our guide, so next day we had a whirlwind tour of the main tourist sights in his pickup, including a brand new cable-car ride halfway down into one of the canyons.
Then in the afternoon a wizened neighbor Roberto took us on horse- and mule-back up to a high mesa with fantastic views.  There were some very steep passages which the animals took with more aplomb than their riders. Roberto only spoke Spanish, and very little of that, so we were mostly left to ourselves and surroundings, which was fine by us.
The kids really love horseback riding (and all animals, for that matter), so this was a real treat.  But of course it was cold by the time we returned, so time for more hot chocolate and what turned out to be a good dinner by Roy’s wife Monica.
This time we figured out the fireplace a bit better, so the morning wasn’t as cold, but we were still going through wood like crazy and had to get up every few hours to relight or add wood.  Then off to Creel at even higher elevation, lots of stops at Valleys of Frogs, Mushrooms, Fertility (actually phallus); and several missions.  A lot of Tarahumara, all beautifully dressed but we were amazed at how they survived in the cold – one girl at a mission was barefoot with snow still in crevices around her, and their houses are of course uninsulated – these are some of the better looking ones.

On one side-trip we walked to a nice waterfall, with a few Tarahumara stalls along the path.  There are fewer tourists this year because of all the shooting scares – apparently the Canadians haven’t been brainwashed as thoroughly and are still coming, we have yet to see any evidence of violence where we are. So all the vendors are a bit desperate, and seeing them huddled around their fires was sobering and somewhat depressing; at least we were able to buy a nice shawl/baby carrier (from the woman on the left) and some baskets. We are such a privileged lot.

New Years Eve we headed off with  Roy to a village at the bottom of a canyon – Urique.  It’s a jarring 6-hr ride in a Suburban or 4WD, lots of twists and turns, great views, and another trip through different climate/vegetation zones, ending in tropical at the bottom.  Not exactly tropical heat, but hey it’s New Years, at least we left the snow and parkas behind.
We stayed at an oasis called Entre Amigos, just outside town and very peaceful.  The American who built the place is a very interesting character from Oregon.  Keith has an amazing garden farm with fruit trees (citrus and tropical fruits like guava and papaya), veggies like squash, beans, basil, melons… the best part about staying there was that we could pick whatever we wanted, and indeed made our first meal out of grapefruit, radish and basil before heading off to a more traditional restaurant for late dinner.
Another treat was meeting “Caballo Blanco” and his dog, Ghost Dog.  They are described in the book “Born to Run” about the Tarahumara and other long-distance runners, which we had been listening to on the Nook for weeks.

After dropping in on a local celebration across the street and dinner in town, Roy brought us to a plaza where the New Years celebration was to be held.  This turned out to be a big do, with a regionally-famous band and lots of people from Urique and even towns on the rim attending.  Of course it started late, and by then it was cold and Patti and the boys went back for an early night, the boys sharing a bed (with Tino’s prize bow and arrow close at hand) rather than stretching out in lonely splendor due to fear of scorpions.  But Jan and Roy had a good time drinking Tecates and watching the dancers of all ages and abilities, natives drunk and sober, 8-yr-olds collecting empties for redemption in a Deposito, Federales with pistols and rifles, and of course the ubiquitous dogs. A much more eclectic mix than would ever appear at a public party in Canada or the States! Only problem is every song sounded the same, so after an hour or so I got a lift back and we were all in bed before midnight except for the ever-popular Roy.
Saturday was a journey day – wake Roy up, drive to Ceracahui on the rim for a bad brunch followed by good coffee at a more expensive establishment, then on to Bahuichivo train station to wait a couple hours for our second-class train.  True to form, the 1st class train was late and the 2nd-class early (though an hour later than the former); we watched local kids playing on a huge luggage cart.  Nobody minded, nobody got hurt, nothing got seriously damaged – hey, it’s Mexico!  Ended up at Rio Vista again, this time in the old wing with a more workable shower and less noise.
Then on Sunday there were two VERY long bus rides back to Mazatlan, arriving after dark with both Patti and Tino sick with assorted maladies.  Great to be back on Neener to what we realized was indeed home!

Mazatlan, City of Buses and Shrimp

Mazatlan proved to be just a bit too big for our tastes.  We stayed at Marina Mazatlan north of the “Gold Coast”, a nice facility with friendly staff and lots of small restaurants sporting live or canned music, sometimes till just before dawn.  And wonder of wonders, three times a week the Fruit and Veggies Guy showed up with his artfully loaded truck to help with provisioning.  Besides the obvious he also brought the best tamales we’d had for ages, and we ate so many over the days that the boys grew pretty tired of them (they included veggies along with the beef or chicken).
But it’s a long way to anywhere else, and those bus rides got to be a pain, especially when you took the wrong one or the one you took mysteriously stopped half a mile from your destination.  So we occasionally tried out one of the ubiquitous open “Pulmonaria” taxis, named for the disease they inflict on unwary passengers (sort of the Mazatlan equivalent of San Francisco’s fog).  The boys like riding in them though.
There is a really nice town center, with a great Cathedral opposite the town square (and some interesting art close by, including my favorite way to re-use wine bottles.)
We took advantage of some of the perks of a big city, like the Mega supermarket (great bread and pastries), movie theaters (we saw the latest Harry Potter the day after Valencio’s birthday – in English with only Spanish subtitles).  But probably the biggest perk was a big TelCel store where I FINALLY got the broadband modem working, after four tries and much standing in line.  It even works on our little wifi router – sometimes.
And then there are the beaches, with waves big enough to give our boys boogie board thrills on V’s birthday until the bigger ones broke them open.  But doesn’t Tino look the surfer dude?
And on the last day I found a wonderful coffee shop out by the “Witch’s Beach” Playa de Bruha. 
The best thing about Mazatlan may have been the other teenage boys we met there – 14-yr-old Jack from Just a Minute, and 12-yr-old Josh from Evergreen.  Just a Minute was staying in the upscale El Cid marina a short dinghy ride away, and we all visited there as their guests as often as possible. 
Gee, a jungle-theme pool complete with iguanas, hot tub, boogie-boarding at the beach, and three happy hours a day. We could get used to this.  Not to mention those shrimp… we never did go to the famous (and now over-priced) Shrimp Bucket, but the place next door had KILLER mango shrimp on Valencio’s birthday (it was a busy day…), and then then Patti fixed me some wonderful garlic shrimp for my own birthday meal four days later.  Sorry, no photos of camarones, saliva is bad for your keyboard.
In the middle of our stay we took a trip to Copper Canyon, the subject of the next post…