Cental America
And Back
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Punta PulpitoWe miss our fourth crew member Daisy on our first lengthy sail without her. Ginger shows signs of her absence as well. She’s never been left alone on the boat before, always with Daisy. Now when left, she barks until we return. We anchor a significant distance from other cruisers to save them from her anxiety. Hopefully she will get used to being the only four legged on board soon. Leaving Santispac in Bahia de Concepcion the day before Easter, our first anchorage is 40 miles south at Punta Pulpito (Pulpit Point). The name is certainly justified if you were to climb the giant cliff at the point and conduct a sermon to say… a pod of dolphins. I may have named it something like Bahia Luna (Moon Bay) because it seemed as if we had landed on the moon. Rounding the point, the bay opened up into a geologically impossible array of different rock strata’s and structures that were nothing short of stunning. It was hard to make sense of this place, how the hell did this happen? I would surely like to know. A kayak ride around the watery moonscape disclosed massive hollow rocks that growled in the surging waters and thousands of large red crabs skittering every which way, stopping to raise their claws in defense if we floated to close. They looked serious and I kept my distance. Meanwhile, the bay was alive with manta rays. We left our lunar landing spot for San Juanico the following day. The bay is surrounded by mountains and surprising little islands, rock spires rising from the water and white sand beaches for miles. There were 10 sailing vessels anchored in the bay when an extremely large power yacht owned by Carlos Slim, the Mexican cell phone billionaire, pulled in to the bay. Crew members in white hats, white shirts and chinos dropped a very large rigid inflatable in the water and then opened a garage door in the back of the yacht to release a jet ski. Several crew helped 5 or 6 well-dressed folks in stylish hats into the dinghy and when everyone was seated, a solitary young man came out on deck in a life vest, stepped down to the swim step and onto the Jet Ski. Another crew handed him a helmet. After revving the engine to alert his people that he was ready, he roared off around the bay with the dinghy and posse in hot pursuit. The massive dinghy was never more than 200 yards behind the jet skier, arriving back at the yacht at the end of the day. When we woke up the next morning the large yacht had departed, probably travelling at night to minimize discomfort to guests. Peace Peace.
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