Bigeye Tuna?
Our 4 days in Puerto Vallarta, or more specifically in Paradise Village Marina in Nuevo Vallarta, are not all spent fine-tuning The Formula. For one thing, we are running out of gin and good white wine. We search the small local market that caters to tourists and yachties. The white wine selection is poor and meager. Though they do have some gin, the price is exorbitant.
We decide to head into town. The bus is the way to go – so we are told. It is if one has all day to circle through every condo and hotel in Nuevo Vallarta while slowly navigating into and out of every pothole along the way. After our “Grand Tour” of Nuevo Vallarta, we hit the main road to PV and arrive at the American retail stores of Walmart and Sam’s Club. Both are located within walking distance of major hotels and are filled with Americans as well as Mexicans buying and buying. Only rarely do we shop at these places in the States, but we are told that they sell alcohol. We enter, but we find no good white wine and not one bottle of gin.
Next, we take a taxi to another large American store: Costco. This giant retail enterprise opened within the last year and is a bit out of town. Obviously not as well known here yet as the former stores or maybe not as well located, it is a relief to be shopping in a less frenetic place. We regularly use a Costco store in Scottsdale, and this one looks just like every other Costco and stocks many similar items. The First Mate is delighted to find Stacy’s big bag of lighted salted pita chips. These are her stalwart friends when ocean swells start to get to her. Sit in the wind and munch pita chips with occasional sips of a ginger ale – yup, that does the trick. Contrary to what one might think, she has found that a full tummy or a filling tummy is better at countering an unbalanced ear than an empty tummy. Go figure!
The Captain, however, is dismayed. Here, too, there is not one bottle of gin on the shelves, There are lots of Tequilas and Rums. He stocks up on Tequila, Rum and a few bottles of white wine that he hopes will be good. We also buy 4 bags of Stacey’s Pita Chips, fresh shrimp, some vegetables and fruit and 2 heavy-duty insulated bags to carry it all in. Snagging a taxi, we have him take us directly back to the marina. No bus this time. Once was enough with that experience.
We enjoy Paradise Village Marina. Due to Avante‘s length and depth, we are on a dock surrounded by some really big boats. “Piano Bar” is one we are sure we have seen up north. Where? We settle on either Friday Harbor or Victoria Harbor. Finally, The Captain runs into one of its crew and finds out that they were in Friday Harbor last year. They run the boat south to Mexico in the winter and than back up to the Pacific Northwest in the summer. Not an uncommon practice along this coast, the trip north, though, is long, arduous and not for the faint of heart.
There is a group that runs an organized rally south each year. The “Baja Ha-Ha” is the exciting, down wind trip south from San Diego to the glorious warm winter cruising waters of Mexico. The miserable trip north banging boat and body into winds and waves is known as the “Baja Bash”. For this reason, our future plans upon leaving Mexico are either to head west to the Pacific Islands or to continue south to Costa Rico and thru the Canal to the Caribbean.
In the early morning and late afternoon, local fishermen in their pangas come into the quiet waters of this marina estuary to fish. Skillfully balanced in their tipsy, little boats they hurl their nets out, let them settle for a while and then pull in their catch. We wonder if they are catching dinner or the next day’s bait.
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Paradise Village Marina is actually part of a larger complex simply called Paradise Village. It is a huge resort with hotel, condos, homes and all the amenities and people that go along with such an enterprise. There is even a zoo with a couple of sleepy tigers and a bunch of squawking parrots who actually do say Ola to passers by.
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We enjoy an evening sunset drink in one of the beachfront bars and then walk out to the end of the quay. It is all very nice, but even The First Mate is eager to set sail at the end of our 4 days. Too many people – too many tourists.
Wednesday, February 4th – The channel leading in and out of the marina is regularly dredged, and we have been told that we can traverse it safely at any time. However, we want to travel through it a few times before we attempt it at low tide. At 1030 and at mid tide, we motor down the middle of the channel finding plenty of depth. We then head to the Marina Vallarta to fuel before leaving on a 175nm overnight passage to Manzanillo. This overnight passage had been jointly discussed and approved as the most expedient way to reach the wonderful cruising waters and anchorages of Mexico’s Gold Coast.
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Looking back at the marina as we motor through the channel, we are off for a 2-week cruising adventure.
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On the way to Manzanillo, we have to round Cabo Corrientes, another cape with winds and conflicting currents. Currents there are with seas churned up, but the winds prove to be mild as we sail around the point.
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We put out the fishing line, and shortly, it starts zinging away. Cut the motor, grab the rod, strap on “Lucille” – the name The Captain has given to a kind of a belt with a holder for the rod so the person reeling in the fish doesn’t have the rod jammed into his stomach, and pull out the vodka and the gaff. This one is big, really big. The Captain is having a heck of a time with it. Each time The Captain feels he is getting the upper hand, off runs the fish pulling out hard-fought line. As he pulls the fish nearer the boat and sees its size, he realizes that there is no way The First Mate is going to be able to gaff and pull this one in. There is a finite limit to her strength, ability and agility, and there is a very real chance she could end up in the water, gaffed through the leg, serving as shark bait while his fish swims away free. Motivated probably more for concern for his fish than his First Mate, The Captain does it all. The First Mate only gets the rod when The Captain has the fish securely gaffed.
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He hauls it up and onto the deck. It is huge! The biggest one he has caught. Pulling out our fish pictures, we initially identify it as a Bigeye Tuna. Wow!
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We are going to be in fish for meals and meals. Fish subdued with vodka, The Captain prepares it to be placed on ice in the refrigerator. Forget about carving up the fish on a rolling deck in the heat of the day, we had already decided that we were going to get our fish on ice and cooled down as soon as possible after catching. Cut off the head, bleed it, gut it and ice it – that seems the way to go. Then carve up the fillets in the cool of the late afternoon when we’re in harbor or at anchor. Even with the head off, the fish does not fit in the freezer! We don’t want to cut off the tail because the tail provides a great grip when The Captain is later taking off the skin. So, The First Mate pushes and twists the monster into the box. It’s going to be a wrestling match getting this guy out of the box, but she’ll worry about that later!
As we continue south, The First Mate does a search through her fish book and reads that Bigeye Tuna is really good eating. She suggests that maybe we stop in Bahia Ipala for the night so we can carve up our beauty and have a really nice dinner. By now winds and waves have begun to pick up. Carving this big fish on a rolling deck is not going to be easy. The Captain concedes that that is truly the case, and it is jointly agreed to overnight at anchor in Ipala Bay. Winds are 18 to 20 when we rocket into the bay. It takes a bit to secure us, but we are set.
This is an isolated bay with 2 or 3 little restaurants that enterprising locals have opened to attract the few boaters that show up. Shortly, a family motors out in their panga to invite us to their establishment. Father, mother and three kids are in the boat asking us to eat in their restaurant. They are nicely dressed and polite. We feel sorry to refuse. We have our fish, but we tell them that we will return in 2 weeks and will eat dinner with them then. They then ask us for school supplies for their kids. It turns out that school is supposedly mandatory in Mexico, but each family must pay for their children’s school supplies once they are past sixth grade. Of course, these poor families just cannot do that. This is our first real experience with anchoring in a place where people have so little, and we are embarrassed that we are so ill prepared. We plan to buy some simple school supplies for our return trip, too.
Now to the fish. The Captain cuts it up. It is a messy task taking up most of the counter space in the galley. The First Mate suggests that maybe we really do not want to catch fish any bigger than this one. “And how would you like me to guarantee that?” asks The Captain. The flesh is red, deep red. The First Mate does not like the look of it, but the fish book said it is good eating so it must be. She cooks it like she does Ahi Tuna: panko-crusted and seared quickly. We sit down to feast. It is horrible! Neither of us can eat it. We decide that this is definitely not a tuna that is eaten raw. She puts it back on the stove to cook all the way through while he takes another look at our fish identification placard. The Bigeye Tuna is the only fish on our placard that comes close, but we decide that there may be other fish that aren’t shown. Somehow, our fish is nowhere near as delicious as a Bigeye Tuna is supposed to be.
Fully cooked, our fish is edible, but not great. We now have 7 frozen packets of “Bigeye Tuna” in the freezer. What is she going to do with them? How should this supposedly good-eating fish be cooked? Having been raised with such phrases as “Waste not: want not” and “Remember the starving children in China”, The First Mate has a hard time with the thought of just throwing the fish away. To her, it feels unwise or unlucky to throw away the meat this poor fish provided for us with his life. She feels strongly that Mother Nature did create certain animals for us as food and that to kill these animals for food is okay with her, but to kill for any other reason is asking for her wrath. Mother Nature’s wrath on these open seas The First Mate does not want.
The First Mate is disgusted. So is The Captain, and we are both thinking that for this we stopped for the night! We would have arrived in Manzanillo tomorrow. Instead with 135 nm still to go, it cannot be done in the 12 hours of daylight available at this time of year. There will still be another day and an overnighter before we arrive at our destination. However, the night is balmy, the stars are out, and we fall asleep cradled in Avante rocking away on a rolling Pacific Ocean. What’s another day here, another day there? We’ll get there mañana, mañana.