In 2022, one month after we left Huatulco in the original Mapache to return north and switch boats, a category-2 hurricane struck the area, causing massive damage. Now, two years later, the scars of Hurricane Agatha remain in the marina as broken docks and pilings, disabled electrical systems, and extra-shallow water (caused by the sand pushed in from the storm). The swell in the marina has always been notorious, shredding dock lines, and adding an extra challenge to docking. Our docking of Mapache 2.0 was exciting, the swell causing a near collision with our neighbor boat and only two inches of water under our keel. We even had to move the caution tape (in place to warn of the hurricane damage) to allow us passage from our finger pier to the main dock.
Are We Sinking?
That evening brought another thrill when our emergency bilge pump started running. We lifted the floorboards to find the bilge full of water. Our first thought was that we must have holed the boat on some debris, given the amount of dock damage and shallow water. After a few seconds of terror, I recalled a lesson from the sailor and author, Cap’n Fatty (yes, that is his chosen pen name), and I tasted the water. It was fresh, not salt, meaning the boat was not sinking. We traced the water’s movement to find a burst hose behind the bathroom sink. We repaired the hose and then viewed our boat half full, considering the loss of our entire fresh-water holding tank as a thorough bilge cleanse.
Huatulco marked a noticeable change to a truly hot and humid tropical climate. Before plugging into shore power, our boat’s power system completely shut down. We had no real explanation—maybe the boat ghost’s tricks again, or maybe a safety fuse getting too hot in the more tropical climate. Luckily, Mapache 2.0 has an air conditioner that can run whenever we are plugged into shore power. And that is what we did.
The unit cools using sea water, and it worked well for the first several hours. But as our bilge was filling with fresh water, the air conditioner stopped taking in sea water. We noticed that the unit was blowing hot air and powered it down before it burned up. We sweated through the burst-hose repair and into the night. The next morning, we were able to identify and clean a clog in the air conditioner’s water pump, and we were much happier again.
Waiting on a Mountain
Huatulco is the staging point for crossing one of the more dangerous patches of ocean, Bahía de Tehuantepec. The bay is known for sudden onsets of hurricane-force winds and the associated giant waves. The phenomenon occurs because Mexico’s Tehuantepec isthmus is the skinniest piece of land in Central America, funneling high pressure systems from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific.
Our strategy for crossing was patience, waiting for the perfect weather window–one that forecasts the least pressure changes, and calm wind and seas, for the two to three days it takes to cross Bahía de Tehuantepec, plus a buffer day. While we waited, Rob and I took a land trip, up 8,000 feet to the small mountain town of San José del Pacifico.
The town is known for its indigenous roots and its fungi. We partook in a temazcal, which is a traditional steam hut. We also ate a couple of phenomenal dinners, walked the small winding streets and forest trails, and sipped coffee in our slippers from our cabin’s patio, while gazing at the magnificent mountains and valley. The Pacific ocean occasionally peaked out from the clouds below, reminding us that it was waiting.
What Lies Beneath?
Back at sea-level, our weather window opened, and we safely crossed the Tehuantepec. The first day was bouncy with leftover waves from a system that had already passed, but the Cinarizina held strong against the seasickness. And a huge pod of spinner dolphins paid regular visits, boosting our spirits as they rode our bow wave. We sailed through the first day and night.
The second day went flat calm, and we even took a moment to swim in the deep blue. We peered down through goggles into almost 1,000 feet of water–it’s a shade of blue that only exists in the deep ocean, tinged with the question of what lies beneath. Then, we turned the engine key to continue without wind across the second half of the Bay, but the engine did not start.
We both held our breath, hoping that the boat ghost, or whatever had caused our power to suddenly shut off before, was not reappearing now, in the middle of the Tehuantepec. On the second turn, she powered up as usual and carried on as if nothing had happened. We did not risk turning the key to “off” the rest of the trip across.
During the second day, we were again visited by dolphins and also by three fishermen, who were setting out to sea in a small panga. At that point, we were 50 miles offshore and they had no food. We gifted them lasagna, several cans of beans, and homemade sourdough flatbread. They refused additional water supplies, saying that they had enough in their single 5-gallon garrafón. I can only imagine the fortitude of those men, heading out into that dangerous patch of ocean with only a jug of fresh water, some fishing supplies, and the hope of landing sufficient fish to feed their families.
Current State
Mapahce 2.0 is now in the state of Chiapas, in Puerto Madero, which is the southern-most port of Mexico. During our first two weeks in Chiapas, we made it to the museum in the nearby, former state capital–Tapachula–and on a local tour that included a visit to a tamale-maker, world-famous chocolatier, and the Izapa Ruins. We started supporting a local veterinarian, who provides free and low-cost animal care clinics (and you can help, too, by donating here). Rob taught a morning Muay Thai program to some of the boat kids and adults. Sarah deep-cleaned and packed up the boat for haul-out. And we did all of that while still finding time to work and to enjoy the marina pool.
On Mapache’s third day in dry-storage, resting on boat stands, a 6.6-magnitude earthquake hit just offshore from Puerto Madero. The earthquake produced some major tremors in the marina, but all of the boats in dry-storage remained upright and on their stands.
Mapache will remain in Chiapas for the summer hurricane season, while her crew visits the U.S. and does some final Mexico land travel. Next season, with any luck and determination, we hit new latitudes and new countries. Onward and southward!
Broken docks, left by Hurricane Agatha, at Marina Chahue in Huatulco
More of Hurricane Agatha’s destruction–notice the sheared piling, where the dock should end
The caution tape that we had to move to allow us passage to and from our boat
Wildlife is thriving in Marina Chahue, Huatulco–this kiskadee made a nest in the bush growing on top of the piling, next to our boat
And in that nest were three little kiskadee eggs!
An eagle ray, in Marina Chahue, Huatulco
We witnessed the solar eclipse in Huatuclo. Because we did not have the solar glasses, we improvised.
Rob’s Birthday dinner in Huatulco
The roads up the mountain to San José del Pacifico were still under construction to resolve the mudslides, caused by Hurricane Agatha in 2022.
Watching over the road into San José del Pacifico
The mountain town of San José del Pacifico
Our cute little mountain cabin in San José del Pacifico
Hanging out on our cabin porch in San José del Pacifico
An example of the beautiful streets of San José del Pacifico
The taxis in San José del Pacifico are motorized three-wheelers.
Our 1-to-2-person temazcal, a traditional sweat lodge/steam hut
Our temazcal guide and his property, which is full of medicinal plants and two different temazcals–if you plan to visit San José del Pacifico, we recommend you contact Navarro at Los 4 Elementos.
The sunset view from San José del Pacifico with one of the several adventure bridges (and swings) in town
La Taberna de los Duendes, in San José del Pacifico, serves good steaks and delicious pastas, along with flavored mezcals and live music.
Inside La Taberna de los Duendes, our favorite restaurant in San José del Pacifico
Dolphin visit, just after sunrise on the second day of our Tehuantepec crossing
This friend stayed surfing our bow wave for almost an hour!
More dolphin visits
Rob, swimming in Bahía de Tehuantepec, looking into nearly 1,000 feet of water below him
The spinner dolphins, living up to their name and entertaining us as we crossed the Bahía de Tehuantepec
The entrance to Mapache 2.0’s summer home, from Puerto Madero’s harbor
After crossing the Tehuantepec, we noticed that we needed to change our Mexican courtesy flag. We keep several new ones aboard to ensure that we fly a flag that is in good condition, as a sign of respect to our host country.
The check-in procedure for Chiapas includes a search of your boat by a Navy dog.
The tropical climate means that mangos are plentiful in and around Puerto Madero. The marina allowed us to freely pick mangos from their trees. And the marina restaurant promoted “Mango Fest” with a whole menu of mango-based food. We ate it all!
There are a lot of interesting birds, with a diverse set of songs and calls, living around the Chiapas marina. It further propelled our path toward bird-nerd status. Pictured here is a lineated woodpecker with his rad red mohawk.
Piled into a colectivo, on our way to Tapachula–our group took up the entire public-transit van
The original palace of Tapachula that now houses the museum, which is free to all in an effort to preserve and promote the history of the city and the region.
One of the exhibits at the Tapachula Museum is about the refugees who come through the town, which sits on the border of Guatemala. The refugees include, not only south and central Americans, but a significant number of Africans. The letters hanging from the tree display are written from and to refugee children, and are a way to offer support and awareness of their challenges, grief, and hope.
An afternoon tropical downpour in Tapachula
The menu at the Doña Panchita’s Tamales, where we learned how to make Chiapas-style tamales and ate way too much
Doña Panchita and her family sell over 1,000 tamales per day–here’s the day’s wheelbarrow of masa, ready to be made into tamales and cooked in giant containers on the woodfired stove
We drank pints of starfruit water while at Doña Panchita’s, and then she gifted us some of the fruit from her tree to take back to the boat.
Doña Chepi Laparra‘s house and chocolate shop
Fresh cocoa fruit, plucked from a tree in the Doña Chepi’s backyard
Doña Chepi, roasting cocoa at her house and shop–she is a world-famous chocolate maker, who resides and works in a small pueblo just outside of Tapachula. She has traveled to Italy and France, winning world chocolate competitions.
Peeling roasted cocoa beans in preparation for their grinding into chocolate
Drinking fresh hot chocolate under the cocoa trees in Doña Chepi’s backyard
Izapa Ruins, inhabited by a civilization that bridged the Olmec and Mayan civilizations, and occupied between 1500 BCE and 1200 CE
Steps up a platform structure in Izapa–the people, who built them in 750 BCE, believed that getting closer to the sky brought you closer to their gods
Rob coached Muay Thai to boat kids and adults every morning, while we were in Marina Chiapas.
Pool games in Marina Chiapas
Rob became the official kid-thrower and climbing object in the marina pool.
Afternoon rains in Chiapas started to become more regular as the summer months encroached.
Mapache 2.0, being hauled out at Marina Chiapas
Mapache 2.0, ready for the summer on stands, where she stayed through the 6.6-magnitude earthquake