Mazatlan Parte Dos (Feb 8-12)

I had thought (and Floyd thought, too) that Dirk would be in for the whole trip to Florida, where Floyd had estimated we would arrive by the end of May. It’s not really clear what Dirk was thinking, because he bought a plane ticket from Miami to Amsterdam for March 15. We clearly were not going to make it to Miami in the next month. Apparently he has to be back in Holland by March 15. Floyd thought he and I would probably be able to the rest of the trip ourselves after Dirk left. After seeing how the boat is set up, I disagreed. Also, given the rate we were going, Dirk was going to have to leave while we still had a few areas to pass through where, even on a better rigged boat, it would be better to have three people. Floyd decided to change his plans in light of this. While we were in the marina in Mazatlan, he decided to ship the boat to Florida instead.

So instead of sailing to Florida, we’d be sailing a couple hundred miles down the coast that I had sailed just a couple of months earlier to the port where the transport ship would pick up his boat. This should be quick and easy, and would give me a little time to look for another boat.

While I was in town, I had a little time to catch up with the friends I had made the last time I was in Mazatlan. Don was doing well and in good spirits, and had a crew of guys getting Force Nothing fixed up. Judy had moved on to another boat on the East Coast, and Larry and Sherry were up in Arizona. Don said that another girl who had crewed for a few boats and recently opened a hostel in town had been killed by a bus. She was riding a bike through town and was run over. Yikes.


Mazatlan was getting ready for Carnival, apparently the second biggest after Rio (assuming that New Orleans is going to be a bit lacking this year). Folks were putting up big colorful, high-heeled statues along the malecon (seaside walkway stretching 20 km through town). During lunch at a café on the Plazuela we watched the acrobats practice their act hanging from the gazebo.

The day before we had planned to leave, Floyd discovered diesel in the engine oil. Hmm… So he spent the next couple of days in the position that Dirk and I saw him in most often… with just his ankles peeking out of the engine room.




While Floyd was hovered over the engine, Dirk and I checked out the local market here. You can buy any kind of fresh food, including pig face and half-cow. Wow.


Later that afternoon I walked to the top of the lighthouse, at 471 feet it is supposedly the second tallest “natural” lighthouse after Gibralter. “Natural” apparently means they build a short building with a light on top of a tall hill instead of building a tall tower with a light on a piece of land with less elevation. Dirk didn't want to go to the top, but took a picture of me setting off on the journey. The light is just above my head.

The view down to the water from the trail was nice, as was the view of the city and coastline from the top.

After a couple of days and the services of a couple of mechanics, Malulani was up and running again. We motorsailed out to Isla Isabella, following the same path Dan and I had taken on Che Bella a few months earlier, and stayed a night anchored there. Floyd and Dirk rowed the dinghy (there’s no outboard motor) to shore to look at the birds. I stayed on anchor watch (read: I didn‘t want to do a long row ashore).

Dirk was the best rower on Malulani.One of the blue footed boobies of Isla Isabella.

The day we went to leave, we saw dolphins not far from where the boat was anchored. A bit later large, tasty looking fish were swimming around the boat… maybe avoiding becoming dolphin snax. I went for a little swim, and when I got back to the boat, some fishermen pulled up in a small boat and asked if we wanted to buy lobsters. Well, yeah, sure! They made a very tasty lunch before we set out for an overnight trip to Banderas Bay.