Sailing the Pacific Coast of Mexico During the Pandemic
Bonus: My Recipe for Dorado Ceviché
I had always dreamed of sailing in the tropics again. Catching fish off the boat, swimming and snorkeling every day in the ocean, just living out on the water. Salt bleaching hair and sun turning skin brown. Dolphins in massive schools, glowing with streams of phosphorescent plankton as they jump and then dive into the dark ocean, waves on top of waves.
For me the ocean has a profound sublime nature, her sloshy depths recalling a time deep in my lizard mind when I was very young. Our bodies are just bags of ocean water walking around, as if the spirit of the deep created us as a vehicle to carry itself around. Perhaps we don’t see what percentage of our consciousness is actually that of water.
A clue for me is that returning to the ocean brings me home.
I had been living in Oaxaca, Mexico on the la costa chica for a few months, just having left the states for a new life in Mexico and doing my best to evade the reach of big brother’s latest fascist expansion, the COVID BS. I had been dreaming of the open ocean every day.
Across the street from my place she beckoned to me- my kitchen was on a patio overlooking the azure Pacific, crashing waves framed by dramatic volcanic rock outcroppings. Come hither, she seemed to say.
Every night as I was lulled to sleep by the rhythmic waves, and some nights I dreamed I was out on the water.
It was paradise, but a bit lonely. Travel was daunting for most people during this time. I got caught in a lockdown in Puerto Escondido, and it took me a few hours to talk someone into smuggling me down the coast to Mazunte.
Then everything changed. Lana was an acquaintance from Colorado. She decided on the spur of the moment to come visit me in Mexico for 2 weeks. Just friends before, we didn’t plan on falling for each other. But the tropical magic of Oaxaca had it’s way with us, and 2 weeks turned into 4 months.
Lana´s brother had a sailboat, and was headed down from San Carlos with his girlfriend for the winter. We hatched a plan to meet them in Manzanillo, Colima and to get on the boat for a sail back down the coast to Oaxaca.
I was beyond stoked.
Manzanillo is a city of 200,000 and the busiest port in Mexico. That was evidenced by the number of cargo ships seen on the horizon daily. Also a beach resort, it is one of the many locations calling itself the “sailfish capital” of the world, hosting many international fishing competitions every year.
Waiting on the crescent shaped beach for our ride to the boat, I couldn’t wait to get out on the water. Soon the dingy appeared with Matt driving, with Henry the dog sitting up front, half in and half out. Not an easy task to land a dinghy on the steep loose sand in the crashing surf, it was decided that we would meet them at Las Hadas marina the next morning.
Las Hadas is at the north end of Manzanillo bay. There is a resort there with a beach that was featured in the movie 10 starring Bo Derek and Dudley Moore. The marina itself has a mid-century feel, a dusky time worn character that reminded of the semi dilapidated state of Acapulco when I visited in the early 90s.
Climbing aboard the boat in Las Hadas I felt calm and peaceful, and so ready to disembark.The day was perfect, as can pretty much be expected during February in Mexico. Lana’s brother Matt was a kindred spirit, a fellow adventurer and escapee from the US. We traded stories about wild times in our past as Matt showed me how to help him around the boat.
We decided to take turns trawling a lure from the back of the boat to see if we could get some dinner lined up. Soon I heard the reel running, and after fighting for a few minutes managed to land a large Dorado. This seemed like a good omen for the trip!
We thanked the spirit of the fish and the ocean, and cut him up into fillets, stocking the freezer and saving a portion for later that day. I planned to make my version of ceviché, the lime-cooked fresh fish delicacy I am so very fond of. I have included my recipe below. You can use any kind of firm fish- something like Talapia works great, but as it turns out Dorado is delicious.
Dorado Ceviché
1lb Dorado, cut into 1/4 inch cubes
10 medium sized limes
1 White Onion, 1 Red Onion
1/2 cup Cilantro
1/2 small jalapeño pepper
1 small to medium Cucumber
Salt, Pepper and Cumin
Cut up the fish, add it to a bowl. Juice the limes over it until almost covered. Add the chopped onions (mix red and white 50/50), cilantro, jalapeño and cucumber, then season with salt, pepper and cumin. Stir and refrigerate for 30 minutes, stirring again halfway through to make sure all the fish gets cooked in the lime juice.
After 30 minutes, bust it out of the fridge and serve it with totopos (corn chips) and some hot sauce. I recommend Mexican brands like Victoria or Buffalo, with a small bottle of red or green habenero sauce. Accompany with a cold beverage of choice!
The experience of eating fresh ceviché on a boat that I just caught is incomparable. I felt like, OK civilization can fall apart and I we might be OK out here. Ocean to table baby!
We were making for Ixtapa/Zihuatanejo, the next major port along the coast, under slightly cloudy skies. The water was calm and flat, lulling us into what would turn out to be a false sense of complacency.
This was the height of pandemic lock down across the world. Cruise ships were not a thing. Cargo ships were few and far between as we got further from Manzanillo. Dolphins swam and played along the side of the boat, at night lighting up the dark waters as they trailed bioluminesence. Whales breached, sometimes a little close to the boat. Turtles were bobbing in the waves every where we looked.
It seemed like nature was repairing itself, since humans were giving it a break for once. I felt so fortunate to be out on the ocean at a time like this. It was like there was no pandemic, but the lack of other sailboats or many boats of any kind lent a post apocalyptic edge to the whole thing.
At one point we came upon some fishermen who were aggressively signalling us to turn out to sea. We complied, and soon saw the reason- a huge net. It took us a while to get around them- we assumed they were probably illegally fishing. We were just glad to have our rudder tangled in their net.
The next day after sunset we rolled into Ixtapa, choosing the marina since there was no other good place to park. As we pulled into our slip, a large crocodile swam up to greet us, sizing Henry up for his possible dinner.
The next day we rolled out of the marina and headed out to sea, ready to make a quick jump down to Zihuatanejo. Suddenly, the seas were big. Really big, like 3 meters!
The boat was going high in the air with it’s bow with every wave, then smashing down in the trough and sending spray back on us. It was exciting.
Matt quietly conveyed to me that things were looking a bit dicey and these were the highest seas he had ever experienced.
We turned out to sea and managed to limit the boats sideways motion, facing the waves straight on. Soon we had made it around the point and into the bay of Zihua. I was enchanted at first sight. All around me looked like a bowl full of shiny gems, glittering with different colored light.
I had no idea I would later end up living there, a story for another day.
We spent a few days in the bay, looking for a part for the boat’s toilet. I can’t overstate the importance of a well functioning toilet on a small boat with 4 people on it. In the meantime we explored Zihua, a charming little city where the mountains come down to meet the Pacific.
The sailing from Zihua down to Acapulco was uneventful. We thought we would stay in Acapulco, but when we got there it seemed less than appealing. It was a big, dirty city with many huge hotels on the beach.
We decided to just keep going and head for Oaxaca, not wanting to deal with the weird vibes of Acapulco. Sailing through a couple nights would be necessary, as there aren’t any great anchorages until you get to Puerto Escondido.
The procedure for this is 4 hour shifts of steering the boat during the night, basically just making sure the autopilot is set properly, and there are no cargo ships bearing down on us. We took turns, each of us getting to be alone on the deck at night with the ocean and stars.
Down the coast past Acapulco there isn’t much but endless sea and beach stretching on forever. And this year there was no one else out there but us.
At one point the sea got calm and glassy, reflecting the sky and clouds, and highlighting the gentle motion of the turtles as they bobbed in the blue green water. There were so many turtles that we had to try to steer the boat around them- it was a bit like a video game as they would often pop up unexpectedly.
One noteworthy spot was Chacahua, which has a consistent point break for surfing. Matt, who grew up in Australia surfing, was eager to paddle out. From our anchorage we could see sideways into the break, getting an amazing view of the sunset sesh. Matt caught some waves and then we packed up the dinghy and headed for PE, starting the last leg of our journey.
Miles of more endless beach with no one on it, far from any traces of civilization. We started to feel like we were alone, like maybe there was no one out there. There were no lights on the beach as we slid silently through the black waves.
The next day we made it to Mazunte, the end of the journey for Carol and I, and my home for the previous few months. We anchored the boat out in the bay, and took the dinghy in to check out the scene. You can read more about Mazunte in my article about coming to live in Mexico during the pandemic.
Oaxaca is a different world even inside Mexico, a throwback to an earlier time. One of the least developed coastlines, the buildings are mostly bamboo structures with palm roofs. Hipster kids from Europe and Mexico city frolic on the beaches, as students on yoga teacher training retreats meditate with eyes closed. There is a sense of timelessness, and great tranquility.
It was a really good place to land after being on the ocean for weeks. A soft transition, not like transporting back to downtown LA. I had an amazing time sailing down the coast of Mexico, and was ready to settle back into San Agustinillo.
Little did I know the nomadic urge would overtake me once again. Next on the list- Bahias de Hualtulco.
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