June 21, 2020-They Paved Paradise and put up Punta de Mita

wingssail images-fredrick roswold
Judy Reading-At Pta Mita

We are again anchored at Punta de Mita. It is a nice place and is the most suitable anchorage for the westerly to northwesterly winds we’re getting on this coast right now. In a southerly it would not be our choice.

It’s nice here but not as nice as it would have been not too many years ago before the entire point was developed and covered by 5-star resorts, hotels, and private houses. It used to be jungle, palm trees, and pristine shorelines.

A man in a kayak paddled by and said, “Hello”; nice enough.

He asked if we were from Seattle. I said. “Yes” and I asked if he was from one of the hotels.

“No”, he replied, “I’m from one of those houses right over there”.

“In fact your beautiful boat is part of my view.”

I thanked him for that, and he paddled off.

What I was thinking was, “Your house is part of my view and it is not so beautiful.”

Not nearly as beautiful as before the very wealthy bunch of you turned it into a housing development for the rich and famous.

Not nearly as beautiful as before all those mansions were erected, most of which stand vacant most of the year. How do we like that? Take a beautiful place and ruin it with houses that are not even occupied?

And, not nearly so beautiful as before the local people who lived there were moved off to make room for the development. Now they are not even allowed to walk on that point, guards keep everyone but the owners out.

Later a man came around on a motorized hydrofoil surf board. I am sure they have a name for those boards but I don’t know what it is. He whirred by, circled around, then stopped and said “Hello”; nice enough. He said his machine was so wonderful. He loved Mexico. He loved to go right into the wind.

Then he whirred off, did a circle around us, and went back to the dock.

I thought his machine looked like fun, for about 10 minutes. Then what do you do with it?

At least it was quieter than the jet ski which came by next. There was, of course, a handsome young man on the front driving and a pretty young woman clinging tightly on behind. They circled around us too, then roared off, doing splashy slalom turns which made the girl cling tighter.

So the quiet anchorages and closed beaches and hotels around here which we’ve enjoyed for the three months of lockdown are reverting back to the noisy playgrounds they normally are.

It’s OK. We’re still on our own boat in a still beautiful place and still enjoying mostly quiet and peaceful days.

But it does make me think of Joni Mitchell’s song.

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Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Punta de Mita

June 7, 2020-Something is Happening

Credit to Stephan Stills

We’ve had a little bit of southerly in the weather these last few days.

Never mind, it was expected and we’re in the perfect anchorage for it, tucked under the bluffs behind a nice high point of land where the water is smooth and the holding good.

Let the South wind blow.

Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.

wingssail images-fredrick roswold
Quiet Spot in a Storm

We’re happy here.

Then the engine spit the dummy.

During our afternoon hour of battery charging, it's time we stop, but, hey, what's that sound?

There's something happening here, and what it is ain't exactly clear.

The alarm’s a chirping then a solid whistle. Low lube oil pressure! Not exactly a man with a gun, but not something we want to hear. We shut it down.

OK, let’s look what's going down: The oil pressure on the gauge is fine, but the low pressure alarm is going off.

“Paranoia strikes deep”. We’d better head for home, with our tail between our legs if need be. We could stay, but “nobody's right if everybody's wrong”. If the engine blows up, well hell, it’s gone.

So we’re coming home, in fact we got there, nice sail today.

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Wings in La Cruz Marina

But meanwhile, in the real world, far outside our little cove and our itsy bitsy little engine problem Stephen Stills’ song comes to mind, there really are battle lines being drawn. “Young people speaking their minds”, hell, old people too, a thousand people in the street, (and some which fell down) crying “enough” and “I can’t breath” and carrying signs, mostly they say, “it's time we stop”, hey, what's that sound, the sound of police boots hitting the ground. Into your life it will creep, (if you’re black). It starts when you're always afraid and they must be, because there really is a man with a gun over there, tellin' them they got to beware. And meanwhile, from the big house they’re gettin' so much resistance from behind. Fuck that man.

There are some years when the emotions rise, when so many feel the pain that they must express themselves. This year it’s the Covid, the economy, and most of all, the killings. So people take to the streets. It happened in before, in 1971. Stephen Stills was there too, with Neil Young, four dead in Ohio. But the oppression has been there for years, decades, maybe a couple of century’s or more, but it is time to stop, and maybe this is the tipping point. We hope so.

We’ve been here in our own quarantine. We are not really going to get caught up in it all, we can’t. But the world is changing, we can see it, maybe from afar, and some people know something is happening and maybe they don’t know what it is, but they will.

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Fred & Judy, SV Wings, La Cruz