The Amigo Network, and Frigatebird Retribution

During our three months in Mexico, we have found Mexicans to be very friendly, helpful and resourceful. They are always quick to say “Hola” or “Buen dia,” or to offer a smile or assistance. They also have an uncanny (to us) network of friends (amigos), who can seemingly provide whatever it is that we need, whether it is a service, a recommendation, information, or even an outboard motor propeller.

When we were anchored in Matanchen Bay, near San Blas, and using our dinghy to get to and from shore, our outboard motor started acting up. Eric determined from the symptoms that the propeller was damaged and needed to be repaired or replaced.

Once we were in La Cruz, Eric pulled the prop and found that it did, indeed, need to be replaced. Where does one find an outboard motor prop in La Cruz?

We started our search at the local chandlery. Though the store was well-stocked, the owner told us that he doesn't carry outboard motor parts. But he knows this guy...

...who fixes outboard motors, and maybe he would be able to help us. To find him, he said, we had to go back to the main road, walk about a quarter mile to Calle Atun (Tuna Street), turn left, go up three blocks, turn right, and look for this guy's shop about halfway down the road on the left. He doesn't have a sign out in front of his shop, but we would know we had the right place if there were Yamaha posters on the porch, and outboard motors in various states of disassembly in the yard.

We thanked him, walked up the main road to Calle Atun, turned left, walked three blocks up a dirt road partially paved with round river stones, turned right on a dirt road sans river stones, and found the shop about halfway up the block on the left, complete with Yamaha posters and outboard motors.

The shop's proprietor was a nice Mexican guy named Jovany who spoke no ingles. Eric had prepared for this meeting by bringing our old propeller, and looking up the Spanish terms for propeller (la helice) and propeller pitch (el paso de la helice), because he had determined that we wanted a new prop with a different pitch.

Jovany was having his lunch break, so he told us to come back in a little while. Eric and I walked back down the main road, where we enjoyed a couple of really delicious, inexpensive carnitas tacos, a couple of cold Cokes, and the shade, at a streetside taco stand.

When we walked back after lunch, Eric was able to describe what he wanted to Jovany – through Spanish and hand gestures. Jovany nodded and said he knew this guy...

...who he called on the phone and after a rapid conversation in Spanish, told us – in Spanish and with some hand gestures – that his friend would bring our new propeller on his motorcycle, and we should come back at 6 pm to pick it up. We paid him in cash and went on our way.

When Eric walked back to Jovany's shop, arriving a little after 6 pm, the shop was already closed. He walked back to the shop the next morning (the shop was open but the gate across the driveway was closed and Jovany was nowhere to be seen), and a third time in the afternoon (ditto).

The following morning, there was a rap on SCOOTS' hull, and when Eric poked his head out, Jovany was standing on the dock with our new prop! We thanked him for bringing it to us and he went on his way.

But here's the thing: HOW DID HE KNOW WHERE TO FIND US? We showed up at his shop, paid him cash, never mentioned our name or our boat's name, which marina we were in, or whether we were anchored out. And yet, he found us so he could deliver our prop to us. An impressive example of the Amigo Network.

Frigatebird Retribution

Some of you may recall my scathing expose of the horrible treatment of boobies by the frigatebirds at Isla Isabel. Apparently, some members of the frigatebird community took issue with that blog entry, as evidenced by recent events: not one but TWO instances of frigatebirds dropping their loads onto SCOOTS in the past two weeks.

The first dump, a few days after the blog posted, occurred when we were anchored in Matanchen Bay. I was out walking on deck when something splattered down around me, and onto my head. I looked around and the only bird in sight was a frigatebird way up in the sky. A frigatebird with extremely good aim. A sniper frigatebird. I had been the victim of a frigatebird fly-by.

Then, just the other morning, here in La Cruz, I awoke to find our deck splattered with frigatebird excrement. Yuck! None of the other boats around were targeted. This was personal.

One of my friends suggested that I post an apology and retraction, to calm the wrath of the frigatebird warlords, and call off the attacks. But I won't do it. I stand by my original statement: Frigatebirds ARE jerks. Big, messy, vengeful jerks.

Now I'm off to wash the boat. With my hat on.