The journey between Puerto Vallarta and Huatulco took an entire sea day. Temperatures had risen to beach wear levels, dolphins jumped the bow waves, sea turtles flapped their flippers in the clear waters, gulls used the turtles as temporary islands in the sea. The Sierra Madre and Acapulco glided by on the Eastern horizon, and the sea was flat.
Being a 'frequent cruiser' so to speak, the perques are rolling in...
Some lucky guests aboard drank their way through a generous wine tasting session, our world crusing complement of guests joined a generous Captain's reception, the firsts loads of unlimited laudry service have made their way back into the cabin - clean, ironed, folded.
Our ship docked in Huatulco at 08:00, and another cruise ship Azamara tied up next door to us, thus providing some shade during the heat of the day.
Huatulco, or in the old Nahuatle language 'cuauhotolco', place of beautiful wood, is spread over nine distinct bays. A small small number of them are 'developed' bays, all are charming in their own way. The Mexican government has declared most of the area protected, thus the natural beauty is largely preserved.
A sunworshippers paradise with the largest Club Med in the western hemisphere somewhere hidden away, and a number of north American style resorts strung along selected beaches as well as many small Mexican hotels in the little town of Crucecita. I checked the price of one Mexican hotel - $12 per night. The resorts are probably more expensive...
I took a taxi to the town of Crucecita ($3) and walked until it got too hot, and until I ran out of alleys to explore. Not that there was that much to explore...The church dedicated to the Virgen of Guadalupe with numerous colourful paintings of her, one taking up the entire church ceiling, was definitely the cultural highlight. The town made more of a Mexican impression than a 'touristy' one, as the regular Mexican shops outnumbered the tourist traps about twenty to one. Still plenty of handicrafts around...I took a taxi back to the port ($2).
The port area of 'Santa Cruz' caters both to Mexican visitors (of whom there are great numbers) and the foreign tourists. Everyone seems to mingle on the beaches, the Mexican people often entering the sea almost fully clothed, the foreigners wearing as little as possible. The Mexicans for the most part, bring their own picnic, the foreigners order their tacos and cervezas from the restaurants and bars along the beach. There is an extensive 'shopping arcade' as well as a little capilla (chapel) and plenty of opportunity to convert hard earned money into local trinkets, jewellery, clothing, woven cloths and folcloric Oaxan wares.
There is an endless line up of pangas, whose captains earn more money transporting visitors (Mexicans and others) to various beaches in the nine bays, than they would during any regular fishing season. So most pangas have seats and a canvas cover, instead of fishing paraphernalia. My cabin mate and I rented one of those for $20 for the 'agent' or shore side 'trapper', and $30 for the captain. That was not quite as the captain saw it, he wanted to give the 'agent' $10 and keep $40 for himself. But - he drove us around anyway - 15 minutes less than planned, fair enough.
Late afternoon, everyone back aboard. The ship docked across from us left half an hour before us - apparently four of it's passengers missing upon departure...hope those poor souls did not leave home without it...
We off loaded a woman who seemed to have injured her leg somewhere, as she sat in a wheelchair with her leg all bandaged up. She, her husband, and a pile of luggage disappeared along the long pier. Shortly after the ship nosed out of port and were off into the sea, which kicked up a bit of a swell as soon as we hit open ocean.
Dinner was shaky, to say the least. One of our table mates, getting around in a wheelchair, had to leave dinner to roll to the restrooms. He said he nearly fell into the urinal and feared, he would fall out of his chair later at the blackjack table and finish up on the floor somewhere. Not good for his game. His young companion celebrated her birthday, and the crew delivered an Indonesion happy birthday song.
I took my high heeled shoes off, skipped the dancing bit, and padded back to the cabin to catch up on sleep. Ah, best sleep yet, rocked and rocked and rocked...
The culprit of all the upheaval in the sea was something called the 'Tehuantepecanos', whichs a local wind phenomena. We were crossing the Gulf of Tehuantepec, known for high winds blowing through a narrow gap between the Sierra Madre mountain range of the Central American mainland.
I cannot put titles under my attached photos when publishing via e-mail, so leave it to the understanding reader to 'figure things out'.
