By not sparing the horses and motor sailing all the way, we made it to Chamela in time for civilised sundowners on deck. We had heard numerous tales of exhilarating and sometimes disastrous surf landings here and as we sat and listened to the waves crashing on the beach it was with some trepidation that I agreed to Stuart's plans for exploring.
Fortunately we had good internet on the Banda Ancha and I was able to complete a good days work in our Mexican office, starting as usual at 6 am and working through to around 2 pm. Meanwhile, Stuart prepared the Kayak, reputably more suited to surf beach landings than our trusty dinghy. Looking up from e-mails from time to time, I watched the wave patterns that seemed to be grouped in sets of 5 or six large followed by a set of smaller ones. The pattern was regular to a point at which it was thrown out by a random massive breaker.
By mid-afternoon, after a relaxing lunch the witching hour was upon us and time to assist with the launch of the kayak and paddle ashore. The treacherous boarding of the kayak from our boarding ladder passed uneventfully and we were off. With a heavy heart I paddled reluctantly to my fate. We stopped some way off the beach to watch the wave pattern and get a measure for the sequence before pointing our bow at the shore and making our break for it. My resolve was by this time weakening as I listened to the crashing of the big wave section and suggested what a pleasant afternoon I could have sitting back on the boat and waving to Stuart as he enjoyed a beer in a beach palapa bar.
My fear of surf had been born in Chacala when we provided the entertainment for all the palapa bars on the beach with our first attempts at surf landings and take offs in the kayak. Taking a big wave full on, whilst in the front seat paddling frantically as directed from behind was not encouraging. It was further nurtured when we were flipped out of our dinghy twice when assisting as Iggy's boat lay on the reef at La Cruz and firmly cemented sitting at a beach bar in Downtown Puerto Vallarta just watching the huge surf waves crashing onto the shore just feet from our table.
Remarkably, we made it safely ashore and spent a lazy few hours exploring the beach, the hot water lagoon behind and a couple of palapa bars one of which required the crossing of a fast flowing river.
My exit strategy involved swimming out beyond the surf and then boarding the kayak, thus avoiding the dreaded surf. This plan worked quite well, although for me, boarding a kayak when out of my depth made for an ungainly embarkation, only to be mocked by the capitan!