Huatulco, Mexico was a complete and total surprise to us. In my mind it was gonna be a dusty end of the road town at the bottom of Mexico.
Not at all.
I mean, sure it was dusty. And it was at the bottom (almost) of Mexico, but end of the road dead-end town it was not. We had a great time there. From what I gather, the town is one of the very few planned towns in Mexico. Very cool town all told.
There is a crap load of great diving, snorkling, fishing…etc. to do there. There is also a cruise ship terminal but the town has not seemed to succumb to the usual bullshit that is normally tacked on with such a thing. There is the normal touristy stuff, but it has not completely taken over the place.
We spent about a week in a couple anchorages around the area and a few days in the Marina so we could get a few parts shipped to us. (i’m not even gonna go in the that story with the BS DHL put us through).
As with most of cruising, a lot of time is involved in the checking of weather to make sure you have enough or not too much wind for your crossing to your next destination. And honestly, since we left Banderas Bay (Puerto Vallarta), I really did not give weather much of a thought. We would just go. The weather down in this area this time of year is pretty benign.
However, to go south from Huatulco you have to cross the Bahia Tuantecpec which is notorious for biblically hellish winds that can crank up from 0 to 50 knots of wind in a matter of minutes. So we had to make sure we had a nice mellow weather window before heading out.
Local knowledge dictates you keep “one foot on the beach”. And they mean this almost literally. Some boats will follow the coast line in 30 feet of water only a few hundred yards off the shore. We did not go to this extreme, we stayed between 5 and 15 miles off the coast. Because we had very nice weather.
And because sometimes you get bored, I took a video of the windvane doing what it does so well, steer the boat so we don’t have to.
Our destination was Bahia del Sol, El Salvador. Which is 440 nautical miles away from Huatulco as the crow flies, but since we hugged the coast, we actually traveled 475 miles. Took 4 days.
After we got our parts and got them installed. Checked out the weather and had a good window to take off. We did just that.
The crossing was very mellow. We actually could have used a little more wind than we had. We motored half of that distance due to no wind at all some days.
We caught a number of fish. Unfortunately they were not the delicious kind, so they got thrown back.
One got thrown back dead, due to a case of mistaken identity and a serious run in with my filet knife before we realized the mistake. He was a Jack Cravalle, which put up one HELL of a fight (you were right Dan Freeman), unfortunately for him, I completely suck at identifying fish and thought he was some sort of tuna.
P.S they taste like shit.
We also snagged and drug a fishing net and floats on our rudder for we do not honestly know how long. But somewhere out there off the coast of northern El Salvador there is what is possibly a Guatemalan fishing net floating about. If anyone sees anything on the news about a border war starting up between these two country’s local fishermen, lets keep this little bit of info on the down low….cool?
The big finale of this trip is the bit where we have to cross a bar in order to get into the estuary where we could anchor and clear into the country.
You can only cross this bar at high slack tide with the help of a pilot to guide you across. This is no joke. Shit is fo’ real!
The next two pictures were taken by us, from shore the next day of another boat doing the same thing we just did.
Yeah….whut!!??
Due to light winds and our stubbornness/desire to sail as much as we can. We missed the tide on Sunday morning. We got to the location Sunday evening about an hour or two before sunset. So we scooted up as close to the shore as we dared and dropped anchor in about 40 feet of water just outside the surf zone where the waves were breaking on shore. This makes for a very, very, very rolly anchorage. Luckily we were both very tired from the crossing and have a lot of faith in our anchor gear.
About an hour or so before high tide the next am we get a call on the radio from the guide and we meet him at the spot agreed upon.
That picture does not look like much. But trust me when I say there is a bite mark in my helm seat that may not sand out.
The plan. He watches the waves and waits for a lull, then he tells us to give it full power and follow him in.
All the while we are sitting there in the Pacific Ocean about a 1/4 mile off the beach, a very short 50 yards from breaking waves that we are about to drive our boat across. For you non-boaters reading this. That last sentence describes almost EXACTLY the spot where you never want to have your boat. And yet there we were.
Over the radio he says, GO GO GO!
And we………go.
We have a fat slow sailboat, with a small engine. GO GO GO is not an option we actually have, but we gave it hell anyway.
As we approach the waves, they sorta die down a small bit. The pilot’s timing was spot on. We are crossing over the bar in 12 feet of water, which means there is only 6 feet under the keel.
This picture was taken from the pilot’s boat.
The next waves is rushing up behind us. It picks up the stern of the boat and we start surfing down the face of the wave. It’s a small wave. But when you are driving your home, everything you own in the world (with the exception of a beat up Jeep at a friends place in Montana and a small box of pictures and books in Tawn’s parents basement in Chicago) small is a very relative term. In addition there are other larger waves breaking on either side of the boat, but the pilot has us in the sweet spot and we surf 2 more waves and then…..poof….we are in calm water.
We enter the estuary and motor up to the docks of the marina about a half mile away. Are greeted by the guide, and the people that run the El Salvador Rally, some other fellow cruisers and immigration officials. Someone hands us a drink and we are in El Salvador!
