Sea creatures outdo disco animals
Trolling in a small fishing boat on the south end of Jaltempa Bay off the coast of Rincon de Guayabitos, Mexico, we spotted several dark objects leaping out of the water in the far distance.
Assuming they were dolphins we encouraged our boat operator to head over for a closer look and to our amazement ended up 10 meters from a school of stingrays flying out of the water. As we watched, the diamond-shaped stingrays, glistening black on one side, shining white on the other, propelled themselves in and out of the water, sometimes criss-crossing each other in an odd ballet. Having no idea stingrays behaved in such a manner, my first panicked thought was “tsunami,” but after doing some research upon our return home I’ve since discovered it’s something stingrays do. Talk about a National Geographic moment.
We had arranged the four-hour fishing trip through our Guayabitos resort Decameron Los Cocos, which we later found out loosely translates to “resort of no sleep.”
And while we only caught one small rainbow-hued mahi-mahi, the tour was well worth the money, about $50. Having lived much of my life on the West Coast of B.C., I’ve seen my share of whales, but on this day we spotted at least 20 swimming and breaching. At one point our boat operator got so close to a group of four, two of the great creatures turned and began swimming curiously towards us. Did I mention that unlike in B.C., there are no regulations regarding how close boats can get to these great mammals? It was only at our urging that our boat operator turned to avoid a close encounter of the giant kind.
I had no idea so many ocean-dwelling creatures could leap out of the water. Besides stingrays and whales, we saw airborne dolphins, flying fish and a school of mackerel. It made me wonder what else was lurking beneath the deep, possibly too large to make the jump.
The tour was just one of the adventures we had during a recent two-week stay in the tiny fishing village located about an hour north of Puerto Vallarta, in the state of Nayarit. We ended up at the all-inclusive Decameron Los Cocos through a great last minute deal we found on the Internet (about $1,500, including tax). Before we booked our trip we checked out the place on the Internet and in particular at www.tripadvisor.com, a website that allows travelers to post reviews.
Almost all the reviews posted were positive, though most mentioned Cocos Four was the most desirable of the five complexes within the resort because it was “quieter.” My question is “quieter than what?” Vegas? Robson Street after the Canucks win a play-off game? What the comments neglected to mention is that Cocos Four is located next to the “discotheque,” which is open from 11 p.m. to 3 a.m. And hey, it’s not like we don’t know to party, but we had thought we’d get some sleep on this vacation.
When the disco closed at 3 a.m. we’d be barraged by inebriated disco-goers heading back to their rooms, including the two young men who had a fist-fight outside our door one night. Then there was the puker, the two women fighting and in general lots of laughing and yelling. Once they quieted down, usually about 3:30 a.m., the rooster would start. It crowed at least twice a minute on the minute all night long. Many mornings my partner and I were reading at 4 a.m. because we couldn’t sleep. By about 5 a.m. I’d start planning the rooster’s grisly death, which luckily for him, I was too exhausted to carry out. My favourite murderous scenario included poisoning the rooster and then feeding its toxic body to the barking dog… but I digress.
It wasn’t all bad, though, and besides the noise, and the fact the food was served so cold most of it was inedible, the Decameron Los Cocos has good points. The place is spotless, and our room was huge with a pool-side balcony and a partial ocean view. We loved our time in Guayabitos and would definitely go back, but probably not to the same resort. There are dozens and dozens of villas, hotels and apartments to choose from for every budget, many of which include kitchenettes.
We came to look at the cold cuisine as a bit of a blessing because it forced us into the village to try some of the best food we’ve ever had. And at the price we paid for our stay, buying food outside our resort was no financial hardship.
The first place we checked out was the Villanueva restaurant, just down the beach from our resort. The ocean-side eatery opened in the 1950s and is run by three generations of family. Hungry for hot food with flavour we ordered the guacamole, chicken wings and prawn skewers, and weren’t disappointed.
The homemade guacamole was thick with chunks of fresh avocado, tomato and chilies, but it was the wings and prawns that had us drooling. The prawns are caught and delivered each day by the fishermen who line the beach, so they’re as fresh as you can get. The wings were flavoured with a spiced rub that combined the heat of chilies and pepper.
We tore into them savouring the first decent food we’d had since we arrived and licked our fingers, reluctant to waste one taste. Washed down with two ice-cold beer each, our bill came to about $18.
Good food is cheap, cheap, cheap in Guayabitos and we found more of it at another local spot called Tequila Willie’s, also right on the beach. Willie is a transplanted Vancouverite, originally born in Europe, though no one seems to know exactly where. Willie is quite the character, but he knows what Canadians like, cheap cold beer, all-you-can-eat ribs, and hockey. We watched the Canada-Russia junior world championship game at Willie’s with about 70 vacationing Canucks. And maybe it was the Canada’s win, or maybe it was the double tequila margaritas on special, but a more patriotic group would be hard to find. As the team was awarded their medals on TV, the entire bar stood and sang “O Canada.” We also brought in the new year sitting by a bonfire on the beach in front of Willie’s, drinking champagne and watching fireworks.
A trip to Guayabitos would not be complete without a visit to market day in the neighbouring village of La Penita. Every Thursday vendors gather at one end of the dusty village to ply their wares. Bartering is the name of the game for many of the items on display, in particular the mass-produced silver. Some people are wary of the silver sold at the market and on the beaches, but after skilled haggling I came away happy.
I bought several bracelets for about $10 each, about $5 cheaper than a martini at the Pan Pacific, and love them. My wrists have not turned green and I’ve had compliments each time I’ve worn them. Another favourite piece of jewelry I bought was a string of chunky turquoise for about $8. My partner bought me a beautiful silver bracelet inlaid with a sapphire-coloured stones for about $40. The bracelet was hand-made by a dreadlocked hippy girl who created one-of-a kind designs. The fact she absolutely refused to barter and that we never saw another bracelet like it gave us confidence the piece was actually her design. But even if it wasn’t, I still love it.
On another side trip, we visited Isla Islote by water taxi. Isla Islote, also known as Guano Island, which translated means Bird Poo Island, sits in the bay across from the beach in Guayabitos. The island gets its nickname because it’s inhabited by thousands of marine birds, including what became my favourite, pelicans. Pelicans are everywhere in Guayabitos, and act in the same way seagulls do here, only they’re bigger. Imagine a 10-pound seagull, with a seven-foot wingspan begging food from you on Granville Island.
Four of us hired a private water taxi to take us back and forth to the island and it cost $15 a couple. We did that out of fear for our lives. Other water taxis were cheaper but piled 20 to 25 people on the same-sized boat, including children and infants, with not a lifejacket to be seen.
For $7 we were given a plastic patio table with an umbrella and four chairs on the beach at the water’s edge. For another $1 each we had more ice-cold beer. The only sore point was when another group of Canadians arrived and two of the men started throwing a football. Despite the fact there was a stretch of beach behind them with not a soul on it, they chose to play in front of everyone. And of course because they were each holding a beer in one hand they were throwing the ball and not really catching it, which meant every other toss almost hit someone, including us. I was about to say something, possibly using potty-language, when my much-more easy-going partner grinned, took a sip of his beer and said, “Just let it go.”
Following his lead I closed my eyes behind my sunglasses, tilted my face towards the sun and chilled out in my chair. Football be damned.