|It was a peaceful morning...|
Oh yeah. We had an audience. We had surf. A mistimed launch. A panicked leap out of the dinghy, (that would be yours truly). It was a big wave okay! And oh, look! A dinghy full of water, a runaway oar and Rick also scrambling away from the water... Why? He had forgotten to put his I-phone in its waterproof bag and realized it in the middle of the drama. Here I was, hanging onto the dinghy, the very heavy dinghy at this point and watching an oar float away. While Rick eventually retrieved the oar, Mark from the Three Hour Tour catamaran, came to the rescue... (Nope, we didn't have our bailer in the dinghy, uhm... Oops?) He had one. Bonus points for Mark! Demerit points for Nyon! There was cheering from the patio nearby, where a large group of sailors was gathered. Moments before, we'd been hanging out with them, our pride intact. I took a bow. What else can you do in times like this? We laughed at ourselves, drenched and semi-embarrassed. Mostly we just left our pride on shore, and somehow, that was liberating.
So in case you were wondering, Bahia Tortugas is a very social anchorage. We have met interesting voyagers since we have arrived. Everyone has a story. Some discovered sailing recently, others grew up on the water. Some had to pinch pennies to make the dream a reality, others, not so much. Some are young, some are older. But we all sail with the same wind and share similar triumphs and tribulations when we're out there. I love the stories.
|Rogelio's outdoor bar, with the pier|
in the background
The locals are friendly too. Rogelio, who runs a little beach bar-shower-internet-hang-out is friendly in a quietly laid-back way. We discuss language, our backgrounds, my shy amigo, (that'd be Rick). There's Kalel who's English puts my Spanish to shame, and Miguel the t-shirt collector and coffee drinker. Walking down the dusty streets of Bahia Tortugas, you nod, greet passers-by with a Buenas Tardes or Hola and a smile.
Rogelio's on Friday afternoon: A mish-mash of cultures, landlubbers and sailors. A bottle of beer at Rogelio's is 15 pesos, (that would be $1.13 Cdn)... A dangerously cheap price, especially on a warmish afternoon where you're busy just hanging out... The tamale lady came by - I call her that for lack of knowing her actual name, she was busy handing out the most amazing tamales for a tiny fee of 10 pesos a piece. She told me that these tamales were a special family recipe. Let's just say, she was popular. (I have since found out her name is Magdalena, she's a lovely woman and tamale-maker extraordinaire!)
And then there was our fabulous (or catastrophic) exit. Either way, it was a memorable face plant, figuratively speaking. Wonder what the rest of the weekend will bring? Less surf? Maybe we'll pay Gordo and tie our dinghy up at the fuel dock. Or we can get back on the horse as they say, and brave that surf once more...