Cruise Log #13, La Cruz Anchorage
Go backward to Nuevo Vallarta to Sayulita Jump ahead to More Banderas Bay Return to the Latest Log
Updated March 25th, 2005
SolMate returns to the La Cruz anchorage, shared with forty-five other boats, for up-close and personal anchoring experiences.
While we were enjoying the good life in the marina, the Aleutians and the Pacific Northwest were experiencing wicked winter storms. Those storms, 4,000 miles to our north, kicked up a surge that rolled into Banderas Bay ten days later. After a month of cushy marina life, our unsuspecting boatload moved back out to La Cruz just in time to enjoy the roller coaster ride. I was so impressed with the six-footers rolling through our anchorage that I tried to capture them on camera.
A good-sized roller gathering steam outside the La Cruz breakwall, taken from
SolMate's
cockpit. The Port Captain's
office, the white building on top of the wave, is actually high
and dry on
the inside of the little harbor.
Big waves weren't the only entertainment in the La Cruz anchorage. Dragging boats added
an element of danger to our experiences there.
Shortly after our own up-close-and-personal encounter with a boat dragging down on SolMate,
a fishing boat decided to take a walk-about through the fleet. This particular boat was
notorious for slipping its leash, and after we took a look at its anchor, we understood why.
Pangeros are famous for their ingenuity and resourcefulness. One example is their home-
made anchor, an iron sculpture fashioned out of bent pieces of re-bar,
resembling the ribs of an umbrella. The rebar will hold a panga fairly well, especially when it's
tethered to the beach with a stern line. A rebar anchor didn't do for beans on Propomex, an old fishing
boat that wrapped all its rode around its anchor and blithely walked off with it, not once, but
twice while we were there.
A hand-crafted anchor made of rebar. When the bottom two tines
are buried, the top two
tines catch the anchor rode and tie it in a ball
as the boat do-si-dos around in the wind.
Four cruisers in dingies (dingheros?) responded to a frantic radio call from one of the boats downwind of Propomex. They pushed, pulled and prodded the errant wanderer as twenty-five knots of wind blew her right at two anchored cruising boats. After the dancing diva had already pranced her way through the fleet, four lethargic pangeros motored out to escort the not-so-dainty ballerina off-stage, away from the crowd. This time, the second time they came to her rescue, they re-anchored her as far out in the boonies as they could get her, well clear of the irate cruising fleet.
The scourge of the La Cruz anchorage. When the wind shifted, the old fishing boat went
careening off
towards the anchored boats on the right. Dingheros guided her between the
trimaran on the left
and the sloop with the blue-canvas on the right.
Cruisers could easily spend all of their time worrying about the dangers of anchorages,
wringing their hands, sitting on their boats. They'd never get to see anything or
do anything. I must admit, we've done our share of boat-sitting, but we're getting better at
leaving SolMate to
the whims of wind, waves and other boats, unattended, while we enjoy Mexico.
Twice a week we enjoyed yoga and Spanish classes at Philo's. Philo is an icon in La Cruz - a
guitar-playing cruiser who built a club, of sorts, so he'd have a place to play his music.
Wednesday is open mike night, and the talent is awesome.
Philo also contributes lots and lots to the local community, creating good relations and
a welcoming environment for us cruisers.
