Well, the NHC forecast seemed to be OK for our first day underway. Not much wind, not much swell, just a lovely motorboat ride north (with a bit of west thrown in for good measure). This is what it looked like:
Our first thought was to get as far as Punta Mita, about 18 miles north, just to make sure all was working as it should be. Bones VIII had quite a lot done over the past few months in Puerto Vallarta, including a transmission rebuild (see changing gears, but I repeat myself), so we thought maybe just go a bit and see how it looks.
Well, we got up there so quickly, and it was so nice and smooth (as well as damn hot), that we kept going to Punta Los Chivos, a little (very little) fishing village. We dropped anchor and had a very pleasant night on the hook. This is where it is:
Hotel? Not that we could see. There was a nice big palapa on the beach that everyone seemed to be enjoying, but we decided against the whole Capitania del Puerto, customs and immigration thing (in and out), just for one night on the hook.
The next morning all was well and the surroundings beautiful…
Until we decided to raise the anchor. In the entire bay, there was exactly one mooring, with a bright red floating ball on it. Or so we thought. As we raised the anchor, we got it about 15 feet from the bottom and realized that, we found a second mooring, but it had sunk. We had snagged the underwater remnants of an old fisherman’s mooring. The anchor was definitely a no-go proposition.
Out of the blue, and almost as if on command, there was a little panga, the local outboard powered fishing boats coming in to the panga pier. We whistled and waived, and the two pescadores came along side. Capitán, in his best Spanish asked if either one was a buzo, a diver. Si, senor was the reply. After a couple of moments explaining the situation, one of the pescadores stripped down to his chonies and with knife in hand, plunged toward the snare.
While he was doing this, Capitán and I noted that their sum total night’s catch was one little fish about 8 inches long. Quick as a wink, the buzo was back on the surface, and the anchor was free. Ah, the code of the sea. Mariners helping each other when needed. Capitán rewarded the prscadores with a bountiful handful of crisp peso notes, and everyone was muy satisfecho with the outcome. Onward we go…
The Captain and the Kid 