January 1, 2017
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| Popocatepetl Steaming |
Scott and I started the new year by boarding a plane from
Los Angeles to Mexico City. We were
walking down the jet way at midnight.
Despite having arrived before 6 AM, the line for immigration was long
and we were afraid we were going to miss our connection to Tapachula. Finally, all the Mexican nationals were
processed and additional windows were opened for foreigners. We found our luggage and made it through
customs in time to catch our flight, but not in time for our luggage to make it
to the plane. We arrived in Tapachula
hot and sweaty and without our luggage. We did, however, get a cool view of Popocatepetl, the volcano near Mexico City that has been erupting recently. It was glowing and steaming as we flew by.
The airline promised to call us when our luggage arrived, as
there were to be two more planes from Mexico City that day. Since we had no luggage to carry, we walked
out to the highway and caught a collectivo into town for a whopping 20 pesos
($1.) We settled into the Hotel
Cervantino, where we have stayed
whenever we needed a hotel in Tapachula.
The hotel is basic, but reasonable and friendly. I double room with air conditioning ran us
$14 per night.
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| The Hotel Cervantino |
We were tired from flying all night, so rested for the
remainder of the day, only rousing ourselves to get dinner at El Pastorcito,
our usual haunt on the corner near the square.
As it was New Year’s, many places were closed and El Pastorcito was
jammed. Fortunately, we got there before
the worst of the rush and managed to get a table. We got plates of the local specialty, which
is a mixture of pork and chicken with cheese and vegetables, served with a pile
of tortillas. We were hungry, not having
eaten all day, so managed to polish off large plates of food. Then we went back to the hotel and slept some
more.
January 2, 2017
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| Our Luggage Made It to the Boat |
We never heard from Aeromexico on New Year’s so, rather than
try to talk to them on the telephone in Spanish (speaking Spanish on the
telephone is my idea of a nightmare), we stopped off at the airport on the way
to the marina. Fortunately, our bags
were waiting for us and we were able to collect them without delay. Then we took a taxi the rest of the way to
the marina, where we were finally able to change into shorts, sandals, and
clean shirts. We also unloaded all the
heavy boat parts and sailing gear, which reduced our baggage by at least half.
Enrique and Memo in the marina office, were happy to see
us. We soon conferred with our mechanic,
Marvin, and agreed that he would come to work on the boat at noon on
Wednesday. Theoretically, that would
give us time for a carpenter to repair the rotten floor. We also agreed to hire someone to help clean
the boat. Then we headed out to the boat
to survey the situation.
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| The Rotten Floor |
The exterior of the boat didn’t look too bad, but the rot in
the floor had spread from the floor behind the doors covering the engine to the
bottom step of the companionway, one of the doors covering the engine, and part
of the floor under the settee in the main salon. A young man named Miguel arrived and, for
some reason, we thought he was the carpenter.
He set to work removing the rotten parts, but we were surprised that he
didn’t have any tools. When later the
actual carpenter, Santiago, arrived, we were somewhat relieved because he was
much more competent. He conferred with
Miguel about what needed doing and we assumed that Miguel was Santiago’s
assistant. It wasn’t until the next day
that we realized Miguel was supposed to be our boat cleaner. It didn’t matter, anyway, since we didn’t
have any water to wash the boat.
Our day at the marina passed quickly and Memo gave us a ride
back to the hotel about 4:45. We bought
some beer and Scott took a nap. Then we
had hamburgers for dinner at La Dulcinea, a café next door to the hotel, and
took a short walk to find ice cream for dessert.
January 3, 2017
I had told Miguel that we would be back at 10:00, so I got
up at 7:30. We had breakfast at La
Dulcinea. Breakfast was much more
satisfactory than the previous night’s dinner.
It wasn’t that the food had been bad.
There just wasn’t much of a selection and we had been hungry. For breakfast, we had eggs scrambled with
ham, accompanied by black beans, yogurt, and toast, and washed down with coffee
and juice. I got to speak a little
Italian with the proprietor, but trying to speak Italian while thinking in
Spanish just about made my brain explode.
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| Marina Chiapas |
We took a collectivo to Home Depot to buy cleaning supplies
and ran across the highway to Auto Zone for a couple of rolls of shop
towels. It was 11:15 by the time a
second collectivo dropped up at the marina.
Poor Miguel had been waiting for us “for hours” according to Memo. I did feel bad about it, but at least I was
able to make some headway in cleaning, despite the fact that we still didn’t
have any water.
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| There Was Mildew Everywhere |
Miguel spent all afternoon chiseling rotten wood out of the
companionway and settee floor, while I cleaned the ports and woodwork in the
aft cabin. First, I rigged the four wind
scoops I had brought with us. They made
the interior of the boat a lot more pleasant temperature than the previous
day. I also washed the mattress cover. Scott thought we had washed it three years
before in Ixtapa. I didn’t recall the
last time it was washed, but after putting a wet water bottle down on it
created mud, I knew it was time to wash it.
I took the cover, some detergent, and a bucket up to the marina showers
and set to work. Ten buckets of water
later, it was much cleaner, although the water still wasn’t rinsing clean. The first six or seven buckets had turned
completely black.
Our batteries were completely flat and refused to take a
charge, so Scott hauled one of them out of the boat and took a taxi back to the
Auto Zone to trade it in for a new one.
Once that was installed, we were able to get lights and water
pressure. Unfortunately, our vacuum
cleaner motor had seized up in our absence.
Scott soaked it in penetrating oil and we hoped for the best.
Five o’clock came around very quickly and Scott wanted to
leave before we missed the last collectivo.
He had worked up blisters on the bottoms of both feet from his sandals
and was pretty miserable. I made the
mistake of telling the conductor that we were going to the plaza, not realizing
there was a larger plaza further north.
Despite the fact that we tried to get off two blocks from our hotel,
they insisted on taking us to the large plaza, which turned out to be about 9
blocks away. Poor Scott had to limp all
the way home. It was an interesting
walk, though. There was a massive tent
erected in the plaza and people were ice skating under it. It was very odd to see people ice skating
when it was 80 degrees at night. We
walked down 6th Avenue North and that was definitely the happening
place in the evening. Scott was too
miserable to want to linger, so we bought beer, ice, and sandwich makings on
the way home and settled into our room for the evening. We watched a movie and then Scott went to
sleep while I caught up on my writing.
January 4, 2017
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| Cruiser Air Conditioning |
We didn’t want to keep Miguel waiting again, so we skipped
breakfast and just stopped into a bakery on the way to the corner where we
catch collectivos to the marina. The
large bakery, which is usually full of a variety of bread and pastries, was
filled wall to wall with roscas de reyes, a type of ring cake traditionally
served on Three Kings Day. The best we
could do for breakfast were plain bolillos.
We grabbed a couple and ate them while we waited for a collectivo.
We arrived at the marina just before Miguel. He chiseled away at the rotten wood while I
re-rigged the wind scoops. They were
doing a good job of keeping the temperature in the boat down around 90, instead
of the 100 degrees it can be without ventilation. It was still a hot place to work.
After I removed all the tarps and window
coverings, I set Miguel to scrubbing the topsides of the boat because our
mechanic was supposed to come at noon.
The exterior of the boat was fairly filthy. Miguel worked on it all day and didn’t quite
finish the aft deck. The boat looked much less abandoned for his efforts. I spent the day cleaning the woodwork in the
aft cabin, center cabin, and aft passageway.
Then I started on the aft head.
It was especially unpleasant in the center cabin, which has no
hatch. I had to keep coming up for
air. Scott’s feet were bothering him, so
he couldn’t do much except try to repair the seized vacuum. He got it to run, but it made such a racket
that we couldn’t actually use it. We
waited all day, but the mechanic never came.
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| Scott Getting a Haircut |
I had asked the collectivo driver how late they ran and he
had told me 6:00, so we were able to work until 5:00 before heading home. We stopped at the Walmart shopping center so
that Scott could get a haircut. Then we
bought some Gatorade and paper towels and took a city bus (6 pesos= about 30
cents) back to the hotel. We tried to
get dinner at Taco Tino’s, but they wouldn’t serve us because it was 7:30 and
they closed at 8:00. They still had food
left and it looked good, but they must have been saving it for themselves. We walked another block to La Fonda Inn, a
fancy place with white tablecloths where we were the only customers. I had delightful liver and onions and Scott
had chicken mole. The Victoria cervezas
were icy cold and we each downed two.
Despite the fancy surroundings, the total came to about $16. Tapachula may be dull, but it’s not
expensive.
I had only slept about 3.5 hours the night before, so I
collapsed when we got back to the hotel.
Unfortunately, I was up every two hours all night with severe muscle
cramps. I downed a glass of Gatorade
every time I got up, but it didn’t help that much. Working in the heat all day took it’s toll.
January 5, 2017
We got up early enough to eat a nice breakfast at La
Dulcinea and still arrive at the marina by 9:00. I
replaced all the window coverings and
rigged the wind scoops before it got hot.
Then I finished cleaning the head.
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| La Dulcinea Under the Arch |
Santiago, the carpenter, and his assistant, Alberto, arrived
a bit before noon. They set to work
removing the remainder of the rotten wood.
They had the proper tools and things went pretty quickly until they got
to the floor joists, which were glued and screwed in place and had to be
chiseled out. It took them all afternoon
to remove them and I felt sorry for them.
They had good attitudes, though, and joked about having to be there for
a week. Once again, Scott couldn’t do
much, so he decided to go to Home Depot and buy a new vacuum. I spent the entire afternoon cleaning the
galley, which seemed to go as slowly as the wood removal. I had to scrub out every cabinet and drawer
and the stove was a disaster. By the
time I completed that chore, I was wiped out.
Fortunately, it was nearly 5:00.
Tapachula has a Pollo Campero on the main drag. I had become addicted to Pollo Campero in
Guatemala and Nicaragua and drooled every time we passed it. I insisted that my reward for slaving away in
a hot boat be fried chicken for dinner.
Scott went along with me.
Apparently, table service ends at 6:30 and we arrived at 6:32. We got our dinner to go. Poor Scott has hobbling, so we tried to get a
taxi, but every one that passed was completely full. We stood on the side of the road, munching
fries and waiting for a taxi, until we finally gave up and took a passing
collectivo. This time, we knew to get
off just two blocks from the hotel. We
ate our chicken at a table in the courtyard and then went upstairs to watch a
movie and write.
January 6, 2017
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| Roscas de Reyes at La Dulcinea |
It turned out that the reason Pollo Campero wouldn’t serve
us, last night, and there were so many people on the street and we couldn’t
find a taxi was because there was a large protest against the 3 peso per liter
hike in gas prices. Gas apparently went
from 13 pesos per liter to 16 pesos per liter overnight. This hit people hard
in a country where the minimum wage is 65 pesos per DAY. In Chiapas, people were also angry that
Guatemalans were coming across the border and taking their jobs. I had noticed that things looked noticeably
more prosperous than they did when I was in Chiapas in December of 2014. Attracting immigrants was the downside of
this prosperity.
We got home without incident, but the protest apparently
turned ugly later and, by the time we got up, all the major stores (Walmart,
Chedraui, Coppel, and even most of the OXXOs) had been looted. There was nowhere to buy bread. La Dulcinea had to serve us cookies for
breakfast because the stores were all looted and the bakeries were only making
roscas de reyes for Three Kings Day. Our
hotel was keeping the iron gates closed and most businesses were tightly closed
in expectation of more trouble.
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| Broken Windows at an OXXO |
I set to work cleaning the dinette in the boat until our
mechanic, Marvin, arrived about 1:00. He
didn’t get far before discovering that we lacked the correct hose to replace
the one that had caused our engine to blow in the first place. The hose that ran from the water pump to the
exhaust manifold needed to make a 180 degree turn. This caused most hoses to kink and deform and
ours had consequently expanded into the path of the alternator belt, which cut
a hole in it and let the cooling water out.
The space for the 180 degree bend was very limited and we could not
relocate the pump, manifold, or belt. We
had to get creative.
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| Mainaval, Machine Shop in Puerto Chiapas |
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| Machinist Welding Our Fitting |
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| Relaxing in the Cockpit |
It was too late to get anything else done for the day, so we
sat in the cockpit an enjoyed a cold beer.
I arranged for the carpenter to come the next morning via text. It was nice to be out of the hotel and listen
to the squawking chacalacas and the navy trumpeter at sunset. Scott was exhausted and could barely stay
awake long enough for me to clean off the table and serve cold beans and
chilorio on tostadas. He was snoring by
7:30.
January 7, 2017
Our boat was a hive of activity on Saturday. Our carpenters, Santiago and Alberto, arrived
by 9:30 and Miguel showed up shortly after that. I felt somewhat guilty, but I had saved the
worst of the cleaning for Miguel. He
cleaned the v-berth and the forward head, where the mold had been an inch deep
in places. I felt guilty enough that I
tackled the center cabin, which was not too moldy, but was hot, airless (no
hatch) and cluttered with tools, parts, and sailing gear. It took me almost all day to sort the clutter
and return it to its proper places.
Miguel also had time to wash all the canvas covers. It became apparent that I could spend the
rest of my time in Chiapas restitching the canvas, but at least it wasn’t in
tatters.
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| New Floor Joists |
The carpenters worked from 9:30 until after 6:00, but still
didn’t finish. They managed to remove
the last of the bad wood and fashion the replacement pieces for the supports,
settee floor, and step. Unfortunately,
they took the floor with them to stain it and the support pieces were not
firmly attached, so we still had no easy path from the aft cabin to the galley
and no way to clean in the main salon.
We were having trouble getting our one functional battery to
charge on our little, portable charger.
The solar controller had failed.
Scott turned off the DC system by late afternoon. This made it impossible to cook dinner. We had tostadas with cold beans, chilorio and
tuna for dinner. With all the grocery
stores looted and closed, our food choices were limited. All our juice boxes had gone bad, but I did
have some pina colada flavored Tang to mix with rum. Scott settled for lemon lime Gatorade. While the timer on our ice maker had died, it
still got cold enough to make ice in trays.
We might starve, but at least we had cold drinks.
Scott had spent all day resting his badly blistered feet,
but still was ready for bed by 8:00.
Unfortunately for him, every trip to the bathroom required a quarter
mile walk. At least the heat kept
bathroom trips to a minimum. I managed
to read and stay awake until almost 10:00 before I started passing out. A second rum and I would have been asleep by
8:30.
I made one last trip to the restrooms before bed. The guard dogs, Mastile (mast) and Amura (hull
wall), ignored me. The security guards
were fast asleep and sprawled near the top of the steps leading to the
restrooms, where I nearly stepped on one of them in the dark. I had to retreat and use the other set of
steps. They slept soundly through my
entire visit. I hoped the dogs would alert
them if there was any trouble.
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| Mastile |
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| Amura |
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