LaCruz or not La Cruz

I had read a great deal about this marina, called Marina Riviera Nayarit. It was a very large (340 slips), modern and upscale marina, part of a larger condo-house-hotel resort development.But it also had a very good anchorage just outside the entrance to the marina, a dingy dock inside the marina, fuel docks, a restaurant, boat parts store and a ship yard.  Anything that a sailor might ultimately need could be found here and it was just adjacent to the little town of La Cruz.

Knowing all this, you can imagine my surprise when I guided the dingy around the end of the seawall and came into the marina. You couldn’t tell  until you got inside but it was tiny and full of fishing pangas and fish cleaning stations.  OMG, I am in the wrong place.  This ain’t La Cruz, and this ain’t Marina Riviera Nayarit!

I immediately turned the dingy around, and headed back to the boat to get the cruising guide, and figure out what was going on. 

It didn’t take but a minute to see that I had missed it all together.  Obviously when I came around Mita this morning, I was so tired that at the sight of any anchorage, I just assumed I was there.  I looked at the GPS, and sure enough, the way points for the anchorage I had intended to make was something like two hours away.  I was so embarrassed.

So we pulled the hook, and towed the dingy deeper into Banderas Bay to the real town of La Cruz, and Marina Riviera Nayarit (20 deg – 44.850N by 105 deg – 22.252W). This was a much better anchorage.  There was a significant point of land around the marina that protected the anchorage from the surge that is so prominent from the Pacific Ocean.  We jumped into the dingy and went into the marina, and this time I got it right.  What a beautiful marina.  It was everything that I had read about.  We found the Port Captains office for check in, and it was already closed, in fact it was not open at all today as this was Saturday, and nobody had told me, and we would have to wait until Monday to check in.

We walked around the Marina and it was beautiful.  There was a small tienda, the boat parts store (which had a sign in the window that it was going out of business), a huge fish market consisting of many buildings that in the morning hours would have all its racks full of fish for sale, and people from all over the place coming here to buy fresh fish, as well as couple of high end restaurants.

There was a little dirt road branching off the back of the marina that led up into the little Mexican town of La Cruz.  Almost the first thing we came to when we walked up into the town was this well landscaped and tended city park with a small amphitheater, families walking with strollers, pets on leases,all in the lovely, shaded park.  Children were all around, and everyone seemed to be totally absorbed by the gorgeous weather. 

But something else was happening too. There were signs around the cobblestone streets and as usual, to my dismay, they were written in Spanish so I couldn’t tell exactly what they said, But I gathered that this was the 60th anniversary of the town and the people were assembling for a parade, music in the park, and street vendors with amazing smelling carne arsada, tacos, hot dogs and all sorts of frozen fruit delights.

Sharon and I decided to stroll on and see what this was all about. We found a food vendor with tables and chairs next to the stree, and we decided to try out their tacos.  They weren’t allowed to sell beer, so we ordered Jamaica pronounced Himica) a tea made from hibiscus flowers. About that time the parade began, almost right where we were sitting.  This was perfect!

Like most celebrations in Mexico there is a religious theme, or at least a religious element, to all public displays: the Catholic Church is very prevalent here.  They had little tiny girls dressed in really fancy little dresses sitting on the hoods of elaborately decorated pickup trucks, floats with kids waving, and prancing groups that looked like cheerleaders, only there were too many of them to be cheerleaders. There were ladies who looked like they belonged to a yoga class and were all dressed up in their yoga outfits, going down the street doing stretches.  The Mexicans have this misconception that loud music is the same thing as good music, and I’ve never had the heart to tell them otherwise. Truck after truck came by loaded with these huge speakers, all of them blasting popular Mexican music which I have come to enjoy.  Popular Mexican bands would consist of a tuba, a base guitar, a tiny little classical guitar, a couple of trumpets, an accordion or two, and someone wailing the lyrics.  It is a beautiful thing, and you can’t help but enjoy it when it comes your way.

The parade was fairly short, but allowed us time to eat our tacos and Jamaica while being thoroughly entertained.   The parade circled around the park, and seemed to stop at the amphitheater where the next round of celebration was due to begin. 

Sharon and I finished our dinner, and decided to go back to the boat.  We were still pretty tired and looked forward to calling it an early evening.  On the way back to the dinghy we met a very formal looking lady on the malecon, walking two very impressive full size poodles, all trimmed up and looking fancy.  Sharon, loving animals, walked up to the lady and for the next twenty minutes talked about dogs.  The lady seemed to have a very proper Spanish accent, with almost a French overtone.  It was delightful to listen to them talk, Sharon with her British like, South African accent, and this lady with this most unusual formal air.   I asked her about the celebration they were having in La Cruz, and sure enough, it was a 60^th anniversary of the town, and she advised us with a little chuckle in her voice, to get prepared, as

it would be going on for the next 6 days, and would go almost all night long, every night.

I told you, Mexicans are the most celebrating people I have ever met.  Give them a reason, even a teeny little reason, and they will have a street festival.  It is really a delightful culture, and I continue to enjoy every minute of it.