This place is flat-out the greatest. Sure, it's my first real Mexican town that truly feels like a town (Cabo is just a resort city, and Turtle Bay was… ugly), but walking around you can see why Norm Goldie and his lovely wife Jan have made this their home for 40+ years. My first description of Norm was through the Rains' Mexico Boating Guide, where Captain Rains says: "Sportfishing skipper Norm Goldie on VHF 16 and 22 helps yatistas, but some call him the Enforcer." It's not a fair nickname, in my opinion (especially with the "but" that makes "the Enforcer" slightly pejorative). From what I've seen, Norm is a great friend to any and all gringos who visit San Blas, whether they're cruisers who are doing great, boaters of all sorts who get into trouble on the seas, tourists walking, riding or driving through town, and any other Nortenos who need help. He's also, however, a member of the San Blas community. So if "the Enforcer" does originate from someone who felt somehow bothered by Norm, I'd almost guarantee that Norm was protecting his community. For example, there's a dinghy dock here that Norm prefers people don't use because the owner of the dock (who charges 20 pesos / day for the use of the dock) is hiring illegal US workers (w/o work visas) and taking work away from the local workers. As a nearly lifelong Teamster, that's an issue for Norm. Outside of that, anyone who's met enough cruisers will tell you that some cruisers are such hopeless, demanding and non-appreciative assholes that they're beyond help, and sometimes need to be told where to stick their mast (or, more often, their twin-Cat-diesels).
Anyway, more about Norm as we go on…. At anchor at Isla Isabela, we made friends with Lou and Lydia aboard Shiloh, and Al and Yvette aboard Sailfisher. After Isla Isabela they were heading to San Blas, and said because it's relatively non-touristy it'll be the most authentic version of a Mexican town we're likely to see along the coast. So we had to stop for a night and check it out.
Ya know, I have to inject at this point, after nearly completing this entry (and hopping back here) that the rest of this entry is really a bunch of boring stuff. Great to experience, but probably not much to read. So read on at your own risk.
The sail 2/10 from Isla Isabela was nice but slow, with very light winds for most of it. We caught a nice yellowtail just after leaving the island, but I kept sailing as Denali is becoming quite the fish processor. After sailing for a bit, then motorsailing a bit more, we put up the cruising spinnaker with only 5-8 knots on the starboard quarter (heading SE, winds out of the SW to W). We didn't make great time, but we looked good.
About 3:30 we fell into line with Shiloh, Sailfisher and Chemistry (in order of San Blas experience and depth of keel) awaiting Norm's heavy New York accent as he guided us past the sandbar and into the estuary. His help was valuable, as the range markers have gone slightly out of tune due to the shifting bar. From his spot on the beach he helped us into the estuary via handheld VHF and his signal mirror, and then hopped on his bike and pedaled over to the Navy dock where he guided us to our respective anchors, and advised 100' of chain (about 10-1 scope) due to the heavy tidal flow.
Lou on Shiloh has known Norm a long time, so in being a part of Lou's posse, we were automatically important in Norm's world. So last night after putting the bug screens on the boat portlights and hatches, everyone met in the town square. The others took a while to arrive, and Denali and Malavika wanted to explore a bit, so I settled in at a plaza-side café and had a couple of Pacificos and some tacos de camaron. Nothing spectacular. While eating, I noticed a few people wandering around the plaza carrying grande Pacificos, and I realized I needed to have one of those. I spotted the group, paid la cuenta, headed to a little store, plopped down 24 pesos and then rolled up to the yachty homies with my very own Pacifico 40. The dollar/peso value is about 10/1, so my beer cost me $2.40, and $0.50 of that was a deposit on the bottle. Sweet.
Shortly after that, once the whole group was assembled, we all paraded around a couple corners to Norm and Jan's favorite local restaurant, where most folks loved their breaded shrimp, and I loved my Filleto de Ajo (a dorado fillet sauteed in garlic, and lots of butter, of course).
After dinner, Denali and Malavika rejoined me (they'd not joined us for dinner and instead wandered around the town finding interesting stuff) and we rowed back to the boat. I'd had a lot of beer by this time, and somehow I'm one of those special people who get especially agile and strong when I drink. No, really. I glided down gently to the dinghy, and serenaded my crew to "Moon River" on the way to the boat, then when we arrived at the boat and it was time to pull the dinghy onto the deck for security, rather than wait for the winch handle, I just threw my body into it and pulled the spinnaker halyard (which was attached to the dinghy that Denali was guiding over the lifelines). By the forth pull, I was nearly upside down with my feet on the mast-mounted winch to get leverage, but I did it. I successfully accomplished feeling really young and drunk… and dumb. Oh well.
The next two days and nights were similar, with great food, great company, and wonderful scenery. I was planning on leaving the 12th, but Norm and Jan convinced me to stay one more night because they have a Mexican friend who's always asking to meet one of their cruiser friends. So on the night of the 13th I had a blind date in San Blas, Mexico. Well... it didn't end up happening as it was too last-minute and the girl had a class that night. The extra night was worth it anyway, as we all went to a good friend of Norm's, a lady's house which is sort of an ad-hoc restaurant and the lady makes the most amazing chile rellenos you've ever had.
The San Blas estuary has a reputation as an uncomfortable place because of the jejenes (hay-hay- nays) which are no-see-ums, but with our screens deployed on Chemistry the bugs weren't a problem. I never was on the boat during dusk/sunset, so they were especially easy for me. Also, I think I generally have enough bourbon and/or wine flowing through my system that my blood is toxic to little bugs, including mosquitos. They might have a warning about people like me in a little bug "human species identification" book.
TT
