Marina Vallarta is a large circular basin surrounded with every type of tourist trap known to humankind. Shops line the stone walk selling t-shirts, fish bait, reproduced paintings, nick-nacks like dayglo ceramic fish and straw sombreros. There are convenience stores, bars, restaurants, and real estate offices. Smartly dressed men ply fishing adventures and boat rides to the passers-by. Also, tucked discreetly in among the myriad inessentials is the marina office. This was where Brian and I found ourselves standing, reading the sign that said they wouldn't open for an hour. Alright, we decided, how about breakfast?
We took seats in the outdoor section of the restaurant next door. REAL coffee with cream and sugar, yea!! We treated ourselves to eggs and toast. Ahhh!
At last activity could be discerned behind the office's glass front. We stepped inside and were wished a good morning by the three people having coffee and pastries inside. A few short minutes later we'd arranged for two nights in a slip just three spaces from where we'd left the boat. We also got a bathroom key. It cost fifty dollars � refundable, of course, but we'd have to bring it back by the next afternoon (Saturday) because the office would be closed when we intended to leave on Sunday. Uh, Ok, I guess... (Luckily the entrance door had a habit of catching on its latch. We had no problem gaining access either Saturday night or Sunday.)
Eric was just waking up when we got back, wondering why no one was manning the tiller and whether there was a reason we were bustling about the cabin getting our towels and bathroom stuff � Ah, he realized, we're there, then. "Why didn't you guys tell me?" he asked with his usual morning consternation. "We did," I responded, "it's just that you slept through it." There being no real argument with this logic, he began the process of acclimating to the challenge of it being another day. I went to acclimate to the showers.
As usual the Port Captain was my first order of business, once I was in a clean enough state to visit his noble office. In this case my visit was the fastest of the journey to date. It took ten minutes and cost $1.20. Puerto Vallarta was looking good! I had taken a cab on the way to the Capitania but opted to hike the two miles back to the marina. On the way I scouted the shopping center boasting a Wal-Mart and Sam's Club. Brian and Eric might be able to get the re-provisioning done at one or both of them. Of more immediate importance to me, I found a nice little internet caf� with fair prices. I enjoyed the walk. It was a sunny day but not overbearingly hot. It felt good to have dirt under my feet for a while.
The mates and I went to the caf� together, then they went on to reconnoiter the mega-stores. They returned to the caf� disappointed, not having found much of use. I met up with them at the boat a little later. Brian had a spot in mind for dinner just around the corner where the locals seemed congregate in the afternoons....but when we got there we realized why: it was closed after six. Our next choice was Brando's, an outdoor bar adjoining a sand floored restaurant area with mini-palapas over the tables. Brian got their sampler plate with enough meat on it to choke a lion. He was greasily pleased. I had a shrimp burger. This was new to me and delicious. Eric had a burrito plate he relished, in no small part because he didn't have to prepare it, I'm sure. After dinner the first mate and I sojourned back to the boat to watch Black Hawk Down. Eric stayed on at Brando's. One of the waitresses had taken a shy interest in him and another had been goading her to approach him. The second mate thought he'd remain to find out how it would all pan out.
Eric showed up back on board as Brian was dropping off to sleep and I was struggling to stay awake into Mel Brook's Blazing Saddles. The second mate's evening was inconclusive: the waitresses had told him to come back tomorrow and given him a token for a free beer. Not bad, I thought.
Saturday was a more relaxed day. All my essentials had been taken care of the day before. It was sort of novel to pick out something to do that was an option instead of a necessity. I pulled out all the clothing and extra sleeping bags from the forward compartment. We'd been having trouble with minor leakage up there for the whole trip. I leisurely unbolted the pulpit, replaced its seals, cleaned up the hold. Brian and Eric went off to the supermarket we'd located by talking to the fishermen on our dock. I called my sister, Erin, to wish her good luck taking the bar exam that coming Tuesday. I also called my Mom, cause, well, she's my Mom.
Late in the afternoon I went back to the internet caf� to download the most recent weather forecasts, images and predictions. All clear for the next few days between Puerto Vallarta and Cabo San Lucas. I put the forecast maps and weather reports together in a computer file for presentation to the crew. When I got to the dock Eric told me we'd be having shrimp burgers of his creation that night � I'd talked them up so much the night before that the other two had started craving them. As promised � and props to Eric's culinary skill � they were even better when he made them than the restaurant versions. That evening we watched the Batman movie, Brian for the first time. After the show Brian, who works in the industry, and I debated the relative merits of pirated movies....which developed into a debate about plagiarism, socio-economics of the third world, the meaning of art, and so on. Eric went back to Brando's to spend his token and flirt with the waitresses. My brother and I had worn ourselves out before the Cook returned.
You may wonder why we don't spend more time exploring, clubbing, sitting on the beach, et cetera, when we get to port. Why do we keep plodding forward when a day or two here or there wouldn't kill us...might even be good for us....? Two reasons are preeminent: safety and expense. Given our weather windows, it's a matter of leaving at the right time. If, for instance, we'd taken Ricardo's gracious offer back in Acapulco and left Saturday we'd have seriously compromised our safe travel zone. As it was we were just barely able to make port before nightfall � and that with a storm centered almost two hundred miles away. Letting the T-waves get right on top of us could be disaster. The longer we stay in port, obviously the more expensive things get. Per night charges add up along with everything and anything else we want to do. These places are built for tourism, which is to say everything has its price. We certainly respect this, but we aren't here for tourist reasons. If we took advantage of even a fraction of the things available to do or see the trip could take years longer....look at the people we've met along the way who are doing just that: a month here, three there....oh, it would be grand but at the moment we have neither the time nor the finances to follow suit. In addition, despite the uniqueness of place and personality we find ashore, it�s the magic of the sea that I and my crew love the best. The most amazing, the most beautiful and glorious moments we've so far had have been at sea (with the exception, of course of the very special people we've befriended along the way! But I'm talking of natural splendor here...). We are sailors � the sea speaks to us.
We heard its call early the next morning. Coffee was prepared on our little plug-in two burner range. By quarter to nine the Faith was again running the gauntlet through the narrows where the gas dock stuck out into the harbor channel. This time, however, we were going to brave the frenzy to acquire the necessary gallons of fuel we'd need. As it happened the mooring of the boat to the dock went off without a hitch. It was leaving that became problematic. One of the other mariners � the guy just ahead of Brian at the payment counter � was having trouble with his credit card. We ended up being stalled for almost an hour as an agreement was reached between the stranded yachtsman and the attendants. At least it allowed for another cup of coffee and a chat with the fisherman in the panga who pulled up behind Faith to get some early morning beer before heading out to hunt the game of the sea. Somehow they didn't seem to have any problem purchasing a few cervezas from the same attendants who were so embroiled with their delinquent costumer. Some things in Mexico are a well oiled machine, I guess.
Eventually Brian was allowed to pay for the gas and we were allowed to continue our dodging departure. As we cleared the entrance to the channel a Goliath manta ray performed a series of belly flops about a hundred yards off the port bow. It was a good sign � wild splendor within moments of setting the keel back upon open water! Gracias for the relaxing, replenishing time, Puerto Vallarta! We needed it.