Open the below photos in a full-screen slideshow in Flickr
April 18, 2010 – At Sea, 16º 57’N, 100º 15’W
By Herb McCormick
When skipper Mark Schrader and first mate Dave Logan began searching for the vessel for an expedition Around the Americas, they left no stone unturned. There was a promising lead in the United Kingdom so they hopped on a plane. Ultimately, the trip to England was a dead end, but before long, they heard about another boat that sounded like it had potential, and though this one still required an airliner for inspection, it was quite a bit closer to home.
South of the border, down Mexico way, they laid eyes on a 64-footer called Danzante III. It was a rugged steel cutter, and it was destined to become Ocean Watch.
Yesterday, a little over two years later, after some 24,350 nautical miles under her keel on the circumnavigation of North, South and Central America, Danzante/Ocean Watch returned to the Mexican waters where she spent over half of her roughly twenty years. When the crew of Ocean Watch sailed into the dramatic harbor off Acapulco, for the yacht that has carried us safely onward for the nearly ten months we’ve been underway, it was in many ways a homecoming, and a significant one at that. We’ve visited 11 different countries in our travels thus far, which means there’s just one more stamp to be added to the passports, that of the United States of America.
Acapulco was an unplanned stop to take on fuel but it turned out to be a fun interlude and a nice way to break up the mostly wind-less passage from Costa Rica. The fuel dock at the posh Yates Club de Acapulco was handy and centrally located, and the club’s excellent facilities, which included a huge pool, a bar and restaurant, shower with steam room, Wifi and so on, proved to be a great place to relax for a day and recharge the batteries.
Last night we hired a local driver – a friend of one of the yacht club’s friendly staff – who took us on a whirlwind tour of busy, bustling Acapulco. The first stop was the Flamingo Hotel, perched on a high cliff overlooking the setting sun over the blue Pacific, a place built by the Olympic swimming star who went on to build a rather successful career in Hollywood swinging in vines and cavorting with chimps. We’re talking, of course, about Johnny Weissmuller, better known as Tarzan, and the Hotel that Johnny Built is some kind of place indeed. It’s actually a shrine to Tarzan, right down to the signs and photos; unfortunately, there were only pictures of loincloths, and not the real thing. Johnny’s own open, breezy home is on the premises – under the banner “Casa Tarzan” – and we’re pretty sure old Johnny, who was clearly quite the specimen of manhood, had a very merry time hanging out there with a steady succession of Jane’s.
From there, we reckoned no stop in Acapulco would be complete without a glance at the famous cliff divers plying their trade, which they do in a steep chasm surging with ocean at the bottom of the hour several times a day. We caught the 7:30 p.m. show and it was some kind of spectacle. The divers launch themselves from the cliffs at a couple of different platforms, the tallest one being some 105-feet above the sea. Busloads of folks take it in from vantage points all over the place, and then the divers work the crowd afterwards for tips, their only source of income from their death-defying work.
Dave Logan’s wife, Joanna, is with us for this stretch of the voyage, and after we forked over a pile of pesos, she had her picture snapped with a pair of the solid but diminutive athletes. She was a good head taller than the lads, but they made a handsome trio. Dinner was at a local place frequented by the driver, with great seafood, salty margaritas and not a single gringo – well, other than us – in sight. The proprietor was a snaggle-toothed old fellow with a great singing voice, and he regaled us with tunes by Sinatra and The Eagles, among others, as we feasted on his tasty fare.
Just after midday on Sunday, Ocean Watch was again underway for what had been our first original, proposed port-of-call in Mexico, the coastal city of Puerto Vallarta, now some four hundred miles away. As we make our way northward, we can almost hear Tarzan yodeling in the distance, and the next fine breakfast of huevos rancheros is just over two days away.
-Herb McCormick with photographs by David Thoreson
*This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos
*To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.
