Banderas Bay to Mazatlan

The time to leave Banderas Bay was quickly upon us. After a last minute sail repair in La Cruz, we headed out to Punta de Mita for one last glorious day of surfing. The swell was “on” that weekend, and this was our last chance at catching any more waves for the season, so we allowed ourselves the pleasure before hurrying on our way. The weather was light and the forecast looked good to start working the land and sea breezes North towards Mazatlan, then cross over with some SWesterlies that would eventually turn into a building Norther. Bob, on s/v Pantera (still sailing with no motor), left early in the morning. We surfed in the morning and only left the ‘Mita shortly after noon. We had an 8-12 hour sail to get to Matachen bay (San Blas) and hoped to get there before midnight.
Having been to Mantachen Bay three times before, and knowing how large the bay was, we felt fine with coming in to the anchorage in the dark. The larger than expected swell spooked me into anchoring much further out than I normally would have, but I upped anchor in the morning to move closer so Deidre could get to the beach for a run. By noon, we were on our way North for the overnight passage to Mazatlan. We never did see Bob in the bay.
The first 6-7 hours of our sail was straight up into the wind. Progress was slow. For every mile we got closer to Mazatlan, we had sailed two or more miles to get there. As dusk was closing in on us, we decided it was time to start motor sailing if we were to get to Mazatlan at all within the next week. We motor sailed through the night with only a few small fishing boat/net lights dotting the horizon causing only a small amount of “its-the-middle-of-the-night-and-I’m-a-fucking-tired-and-holy-fucking-shit-what-are-those-lights-and-where-are-they-coming-from!!!!!” syndrome.
The next day, the winds freshened enough to where we could kill the motors and sail the 43 remaining miles into “new” Mazatlan. As we were about 10 miles out, our friends on s/v Heavy Metal, hailed us on the radio from about 10 miles out to sea off our starboard hull. Cat2Fold is recognizable from even 10 miles away! We motored up the tight channel to the gas dock at Marina Fonatur at nearly 5 pm on a Sunday evening and were amazed to find the fuel dock open! Unfortunately, they only had Diesel. They were out of gasoline. Fortunately, they let us walk the half mile to the Pemex station to fill our gas containers. We talked about potentially poaching a spot there for the night and Deidre tried to snake a quick shower. It became clear that the dude working needed us to leave right then and there, so he can go home also. She came back to the boat and we headed out the river towards Isla Pajaros, where we eventually spent a beautiful night swinging gently on the hook.
As we exited the the scary river mouth, we saw and chatted with our fiends aboard Heavy Metal. They were were getting ready to take their 60 foot, aluminum hulled, sick-ass sailing machine through the breaking river bar entrance into the channel. Another boat upriver helped make sure the channel stayed clear, and Heavy Metal “turned the volume up to eleven”, and went blasting into the channel through the blind turn at top speed surfing the waves all the way in. Did I mention 60,000 pounds? 7’ draft? No bow thrusters? Yeah… I wouldn’t want that job. Rigo and Deb nailed it!

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