Volume 62
17 Janurary 2002
The Gulf of Tehuantepec
The problem
with weather windows - i.e. periods forecast to be free of nastiness
- is that they are often free of any kind of wind at all. All the
weather
faxes we studied and the radio reports we listened to suggested
nice mild breezes of 5-10-15 knots from the northeast. This would
have been just ducky for our northwesterly course, but not once
did we see a breeze from the northeast!
To be fair,
this is not a failure of the forecasters, but is rather a phenomenon
resulting from sailing in the lee of a big land mass. Instead of
getting the real prevailing winds, we get land and sea breezes.
The 2Cs certainly know about land and sea breezes in principal,
but it is not something with which we got a lot of experience in
the Caribbean.
So, there we
were, under pressure to travel 530 miles as fast as possible in
order to arrive on the other side of the Gulf of Tehuantepec before
the next cold front came down from the US mainland into the Gulf
of Mexico. Weather, as you surely know, is not always so predictable,
but at this time of year the fronts march pretty steadily southward
in four to five day patterns. Indeed there was already a front nudging
into the north corner of the weather faxes. Honestly, even with
the old engine laboring at full throttle, I thought we'd have to
break off after two days at Puerto Madero, Mexico's first port of
entry just south of the Gulf. Who knew how long we would have to
hunker down there for the next break in the gales? I mean this is
January, after all, the worst time of year to be making this crossing!
And if we thought
that before we left Barillas, we thought it for sure after our first
night out where a counter current slowed our progress down to barely
three knots. We'd had a nice sail that afternoon (with the wind
180 degrees off what'd we'd expected) and under sail we'd pulled
away from our buddy boat. But under power, Po' Oino Roa ("Crazy
in the Head" in Tahitian) steadily left us in the dust! If
we thought we were going to catch at least a glimpse of Guatemala
from the sea, those thoughts were dashed thanks to a thick haze
(cane fields burning) that screened the whole coastline from us.
Instead, they sent out a fleet of shrimpers to make our second night
doubly stressful on the moonless night.
Incredibly,
however, as we approached Puerto Madero and the beginning of the
actual Tehuantepc, the cold front in the Gulf turned around and
went north as a warm front. This effectively threw the weather window
wide open, and not only were there no gales, but the seas had had
sufficient time to drop to a milk-pond like state. In these conditions,
the Gulf of Tehuantepec is a downright pleasant trip! The prevailing
strategy is to transit the Tehuantepec with "one foot on the
beach," that is keeping a half mile offshore and in 30-50 feet
of water! That way should a gale kick in, all you have to do is
round up and drop your anchor. Although you can't hide from the
wind that way, you are close enough the seas don't get room to build.
Despite the
idyllic weather, both boats opted to stick to the plan and this
made for some quite pleasant sightseeing. On the southern part of
the Gulf the low shore is backed up by high mountains, very like
southern California. In the center part the endless white beach
has big lagoons behind it with low mountains in the distance behind
them. Where the lagoons open into the Gulf, some dramatic bars are
formed with big breaking rollers, which force the course a bit more
offshore to pass them.
Somewhere along
here was where the trans-isthmian canal planners of the late 19th
century proposed the third option for a canal. Only about 800 miles
across the Gulf of Mexico from New Orleans, it surely was the best
looking choice on paper, and like Nicaragua it once did a good business
shortcutting the transit to California for miners and cargo by rail
road. But, like Nicaragua's volcanoes, the Tehuantepec's winds were
something the engineers couldn't do anything about, and the canal
was cut in Panama. Even today, the Mexican government bandies around
various schemes for high speed railroads and/or highways to compete
with Panama, but the guidebook also admits that top-heavy vehicles
are sometimes blown right off the highway!
The best part
of the Gulf transit was that we steadily picked up speed. By our
fourth and last night, right where the worst of the Tehuantepecker
gales are alleged to kick in, we got instead a fine sailing breeze.
With everything up, we got brave and cut across the last corner
of our course, saving not only a few miles of travel but at the
same time keeping clear of all the obstacles off the oil port of
Santa Cruz. By the time we rounded the corner into the anchorage
at Huatulco, we were only an hour and a half behind Po Oino Roa!
Not bad after four days of playing catch-up!
Huatulco, it
turns out, is a resort fabrication of the last twenty years or so.
There are nine beautiful bays in this ten-mile stretch of coast,
all with lovely white sandy beaches, and clear diveable water, so
the government decided they would create a new Cancun of the Pacific.
Presto, chango!!! Huge hotels, resorts and a Club Med sprang up
along the shores of the bigger bays to the east.
The original
fishing village that was here, of which there lingers nary a trace,
was called Santa Cruz, and the real workaday town of the area is
inland and called La Crucecita. The day we arrived in Sant Cruz
de Huatulco we found a picure-postcard waterfront and a big cruise
ship at anchor with tenders ferrying passengers in and out. There
were vendors and buskers all over the plaza fronting colorful tourist
shops, and pasty white tourists in outrageous outfits! Deja vu of
St. Thomas, except that instead of four to ten cruise ships a day
they only get about two a month here! Up on the ridge, jack hammers
work away all day on architectural flights of fancy, and there are
a couple of hotels in town. Apparently it hasn't been quite the
success with foreigners that they'd hoped for, but vacationers from
within Mexico provide enough business to keep the tour boats working
and the jet ski businesses flush.
Getting cleared
in turned out to be quite the adventure, and, sadly a real wake-up
call to any delusions we had that Mexico was going to be a cheap
cruising ground. Wonderfully polite and friendly officials from
five different agencies had papers for us to fill out and fees for
us to pay, and three of them, including a detachment of four marines
complete with automatic rifles felt the need to visit aboard and
check out our
lockers! After all that, we went ashore with Kathy and Jerry of
Po Oino for something to eat, and ignoring all the recommendations
of locals we asked (who told us to get in a taxi and "go into
town") we got suckered into a mediocre meal on the beach that
ended up busting the budget for the week! One redeeming feature
of the meal (well, other than that we were sitting on solid ground
and someone else was cooking and washing up!) were the two guitarists
with nice voices that Kathy paid to sing three old standards tableside.
The next day
we did follow the locals' advice and taxied into La Crucecita to
check things out there. The taxi driver responded to our request
for a good, cheap local lunch by dropping us at the central market
where we had, for one tenth the previous night's expense, a delightful
lunch of real Mexican taquitos and frosty cold beer (remember, in
Mexico beer is the healthy alternative to water!) The market was
full of gorgeous vegetables - including GREENS! - and the very clean
town offered quite a variety of shops and restaurants to browse
through.
Po Oino headed
on north to Acapulco this morning under pressure to get some repairs
to their refrigeration. We are settling in a bit, with hopes of
breaking out the dive gear today. In a few days, after another trip
to the vegie market, we will shake loose and check out some of the
other, more deserted bays before cruising on north. It is nice,
at long last, to have no pressing deadline.
|