Well, after 4 months and 2000 miles, it finally happened. I had my first "Corona Moment". You know, the beer commercial where the guy throws his cell phone into the surf while sitting at an idyllic beach drinking a few brews? Yeah, that one. While its true that I couldn't bear to throw my phone into the drink, I have nonetheless found the perfect beach, and have even (shock) enjoyed a cold beer here. And where is "here"? Chacala, of course, where else?!

After an overnight from Mazatlan to Isla Isabela (an offshore island that has been designated as some type of off-limits bird sanctuary...lots of birds...ick), and a night dodging guano-bombs, we set sail to the mainland, destination: Chacala. Along the way we saw several whales, caught a few fish, and even got tangled up in a deep-sea long-line used to catch large amounts of market-bound fish.

The guidebooks mentioned Chacala as a reasonable anchorage, but none gave it two thumbs up. Undaunted, we headed here anyway, only to find the much-heralded beer commercial that each one of us seeks. This place is gorgeous...a truly tropical jungle, fringing a perfect crescent-moon beach lined with palm trees. "Palapas", small restaurants, line the beach. Each has a few tables and umbrellas, set out on the sand, where you can rest your bones, order some good grub, and enjoy a cold one.
While Nancy and I were auditioning for the next commercial, the girls were off making friends with some visiting kids. Boogie-boards were purchased, and soon this ragtag, munchkin surf-pack was busy shredding the 2-foot "breakers". Great fun.

We rendezvoused with some other cruisers to eat, drink, and swap lies, and of course the impact of the natural setting was not lost on the group. We each proclaimed our affinity for Chacala, and agreed it is, indeed, the postcard-perfect image that we were all chasing.
And I can honestly say that no cell-phones were injured during our time here. The fantasy is complete.