Back in La Paz

We motored from Balandra back to La Paz today. 

At 3 AM I had seen lightning off to the SE and this morning we learned that another system independent of hurricane Frank had moved down the mountains and was heading west.  That along with continuing uncertainty about the future track of hurricane Frank as well as our total lack of experience with storms in and around the Sea of Cortez led us to choose prudence over adventure.

We motored back in gentle variable winds and a smooth sea.  As we were about to reach the entrance to the La Paz channel we were stopped by a panga with four military people.  One of them asked if he could come on board and of course I agreed.  He was a young man, very polite, and doing his job of inspecting our papers.  His biggest worry seemed to be communication across the language barrier.  I presented my FM3 residency card and the ship's papers from which he recorded the boat's international registration number.  He seemed very interested in our equipment and went to the binnacle where I pointed out the autopilot.  He asked about the engine I proudly told him that it was a nuevo Volvo  of cuarenta caballos with seis horas.  Inside the cabin he lit up when he saw the chart plotter and I also pointed out the two older GPS units (muy viejo I said).  He asked about radios and I pointed out the VHF and HF sets.  He took photographs of the equipment.

He asked for our names and ages then asked if he could photograph us.  Brenda saw him get the camera ready as I was bent over straightening out my papers and frantically tried to pull the back of my shorts up.  It would not have been a moon shot or even a "plumbers ass" because I was showing plenty of red underpants but nevertheless it would not have been flattering.  I straightened up and pulled up my shorts with what was left of my tattered dignity and our visitor and his colleagues in the panga broke out in laughter.   I joined in.  He took a photo of Brenda and me smiling from behind the wheel like a couple of tourists.

At the end of the visit I was asked to fill in an sign a form which was totally in Spanish.  However, I could understand enough to see that it was a customer feedback report in which I was to rate various aspects of the visit from muy buena to muy malo.  I ticked the muy buena with honesty because the visit had indeed been conducted with courtesy and professionalism.  However, Brenda did point out that it would be difficulty to give an adverse report when there is a man with an automatic weapon in a panga 3 feet away.  My big concern was how useful would a customer feedback form written in Spanish and administered by non-English speakers be to a newly arrived Gringo with minimal  knowledge of the language.

Just outside of the marina entrance I hailed the office on VHF 16 and asked for someone to take our lines. When we turned into the fairway I could see the familiar sight of Joel's son, who seems to deal with the jetties and fuel dock, waiting for us.  I backed in against a 6 kt tail wind close enough to hand him the line from the cockpit.

Jellyfish and Family at Marina de La Paz

While I was setting and adjusting the lines I noticed a large and very colorful jellyfish drifting from Pachuca under the walkway and to the next slip.   I was fascinated to see that this jellyfish was host to many tiny fish and one larger one who seemed to regard it as a mobile home that offered complete hospitality.  There must have been one of those biological symbiotic relationships at play.  Note the larger fish in the photo.