Monday, January 06, 1997
Sunday, January 05, 1997
Saturday, January 04, 1997
January 5, 1997-Settled into Puerto Vallarta
We are tied to a dock in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Our anchored out friends call us “dockies”. It’s a demeaning term; we’re not real cruisers because we are in a marina.
But we like it. It’s comfortable. It’s what we’re used to; after all, we spent ten years tied to a dock in Seattle. We’ve been enjoying all the convenience that comes from being able to step off the boat and walk to the store, and we’ve been enjoying Puerto Vallarta sunshine.
This day was different however; it rained.
Not a tropical rain, a downpour like you’d expect, but a drizzle. A long slow dripping drizzle. It started with a few drops and I looked at the sky which was gray and full and I knew it was going to rain. I moved my sewing machine and the mainsail I was sewing on down below and closed the hatches behind me.
I read a book, cover to cover.
Now it is 1:30 in the morning. I can hear drips on the deck and it sounds like we are back in Seattle.
I am listening to other sounds from outside too.
When the wind blows the wrong way the Mexican flag bangs against the rig.
Once in a while I hear a voice, a youngish male voice, a shouted Spanish word or two. So who are these young Spanish males who walk through the marina late and night and yell?
And from midnight to about 4:00 am we can hear the disco over by the highway.
In the morning I often hear one of the Mexican workers who walks through the marina whistling. I recognize his whistling, but I’ve never seen him.
As you can probably tell, we have settled into this place.
Fred & Judy, SV WINGS, Puerto Vallarta