Viking II San Carlos; tourista adventures

My friends on Desert Wind (aka the DEA) got stopped at the Federales drug roadblock. An hour and a half of searching the boat and they let them go without a strip search. The boat is back at Elephant Butte and Stan, Rich and William are planning their next trip from Washington to Skagway Alaska.

I encouraged Ti to bring his violin to open mic night at Captain Mikes. He plays a mixture of bluegrass; since the guitar player was only oldies, they traded sets for a while until the guitar player went home. Ti thought it was time to go also but I suggested we wait thirty minutes to see who else came and then I would tow his dingy back to where we are anchored (Ti is a real cruiser and rows everywhere). Before we timed out, Kak and John showed up; Kak sings and plays guitar; John was on the harmonica. The place was getting lively. Added visuals arrived with Cindy and Tina, cousins from Calgary and Laura, the Georgia peach; I know they were good looking ... Mike fell all over himself to serve them personally; we gave him a hard time about it. The music was good, the crowd was loud and the girls added to the ambiance. Kak and John finished for the evening; the three Dixie chicks were not done. They invited me and several of the guys staring at them from the bar to run off to Froggies.

Froggies is more of a tourista/local mix bar. They had a cover band that played all the trendy music with a Mexican accent. The pool table was busy; Laura took up her turn and tried to win by distracting her competitor while he shot; amazingly, Laura lost. As the night extended, the band switched to local music; by that time the rest of the gringos were gone. Locals taught the Canadian girls how to do the local dances ... finally, the bar closed.

Moonless nights are great on the bay ... except when you are trying to find your boat. I have made the trip often enough that I know the way; the problem is dark hulled boats; now I know how blind people sense things that they can not see ...

I toured the Dixie chicks along the coast. This is quite a setting with the mountains running into the sea. There are birds every where; some hang out at the fish cleaning dock; others linger behind the power boats looking for a free meal. Most are out on the small, desert islands standing on a pile of guano ... what do they think about all day? There is construction on houses and condominiums everywhere; $185,000 USD for a lot. The marina is constantly expanding and adding more high priced slips. This puts pressure to the proletariat yatistas on a budget. The counter revolution by the yatistas is to not pay for anything!!! We dock our dingies and do not pay the $3 per day fee; we borrow keys and use the showers; it is a real underground revolt ... it is not the money, it is the free access. Soon this will be like Cabo San Lucas, a get away for the rich only.

The economy is down here and has been for the last year. The taxi driver says that ninety five percent of San Carlos business is tied to tourists; he expects Guaymas to go the same route in the next ten years.

Nature continues to run its course on the bay. For no reason apparent to me, a fish started jumping out of the water near the boat ... jump, divert, jump, divert ... and down comes the pelican. The skinny pelican was not a great hunter; it took five dives before the bird had its meal ... so why didn't the fish dive? Hmmmm, maybe they don't want too much complexity in the food chain.

Erik, Viking II