If you're interested in the South Pacific/New Zealand blogs, scroll back to them. While there is nothing worth sharing right now, I'm doing a Pulp Fiction plot. IE:Middle to the end... Begining to the middle. Bueno?

We weren't in a hurry to leave Matanchen Bay but there is so much to see and so little time before Spring and a new hurricanes season threatens. We reluctantly upped anchor and sailed out of the bay, bound for Chacala - hide-out of the Pirate Thomas Cavendish -from which he lay in wait for Spanish Galleons sailing out of San Blas and Mazatlan. I suppose the label Pirate depended on who's political Ox was being gored at the moment. The Spanish caught Clipperton in Matanchen Bay and made him the guest of honor at his own necktie party. The English named an Island after him. One countries Prince is another's Frog. No pun intended.

If you dig a little, there was quite a bit of history being made along this coast throughout history. It was only a few years ago that a Gold Doubloon was found lying in the sand by a beachcomber at Boca Chila, just around the corner from Chacala. Ever lost your keys at the beach? A little Spanish Gold?

Chacala is a sleepy little town, about six hours sail South of San Blas, eight hours north of Puerto Vallarta - right on the edge of one of the biggest building booms in history. They're right in the path of a wave of development speeding up the coast on a collision course with their way of life. Fortunately,a Montana Rotary Club sponsors the school and library; teaching them the skills needed to profit from this instead of being cheated out of their legacy.

As we came into the bay, I could see that the boats were anchored in a line, strung out along the beach. The swell creeps in around the corner making this an often rolly anchorage. "To hell with this!" I like being tucked in at night. I circle Argonaut around behind them and go in tight to the North side of the bay, just off the panga dock... throw out the hook in twenty two feet of water. Set a stern anchor, deploy the flopper-stopper and we're tucked in like a baby in a cradle. I could swim to shore if I wanted! Almost did when I turned the dinghy over while messing with the stern anchor.

Like all Mexican beach towns, indeed all Mexican towns, you can wander down almost any street blindfolded and end up in a restaurant. If you miss a restaurant in Chacala you'll be in the RV park... under swaying palms, cooled by tropical sea breezes, right on the beach... with a restaurant next door. Ah, bueno. Es un buen vida.

Just for fun, we often take the Collectivo - in this case a beater Dodge nine passenger van crammed with twelve, or fourteen people - into Las Varas for the ATM and shopping, or wait out on highway 200 for a bus or a La Peñita Collectivo for the 6k ride south. La Peñita rubs suburbs with Rincon de Guayabitos. One of the hopping-ist little towns on the coast. We'd stayed six weeks here while on a road trip a few years before - in thele Bungalows Quinta Karla run by friend Miro and her Canadian partner, Walter.

Between Punta de Mita and Chacala is arguably some of the prettiest prime stretch of beaches and cute little towns in Mexico. La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, Punta de Mita, Sayulita, San Pancho (San Francisco), Lo de Marco, Los Ayala, and Chacala. Sayulita is well know to American surfers as is the rest of that coast is popular with retirees and Expats. Mostly Canadians, but we're begining to catch on. Too bad about our Mad-Dog Media, though. Mexico isn't at all like it's portrayed in the U.S. Press.

It's not sufficient to just anchor in the few secure litlle bays along this coast. You need to get out and see what's behind that beach. Sail down... drive... fly and rent a car for a few weeks. Go! See! Do!

Banderas Bay next
Hasta la Vista