La Cruz de Huanacaxtle

December 28, 2007

(Google earth N20 44.9 W105 22.7)

I have been in a slip at the new Marina La Cruz, www.marinalacruz.net , for about 3 weeks now. As planned, Greg and Cherie' left Snow Goose to re join our mutual friends, Rennie and Ann, aboard Cassiopeia, a beautiful Swan 65, berthed at Marina Paradise in Nuevo Vallarta.

Marina La Cruz is still under construction: only the slips are partially completed. We have electricity and, on most days, water. You can’t drink the water straight from the dock. It must be purified first. I do that as a matter of course on Snow Goose by bringing the water aboard through two very fine filters before passing it through a UV sterilizing chamber. It enters the tanks pure, but must then be chlorinated for long term storage (more than a few days).

The marina grounds are under construction from 7am until after dark. The slips are mostly empty. I predict that in a year or two this marina will look just like those in Puerto Vallarta and Cabo San Lucas: filled with sport fishing boats, parachute rides and tourists, sporting Gringo restaurants and upscale shops in every direction. What a shame it will be if that happens (except for those who will prosper by the money flowing here).

The town of La Cruz de Huanacaxtle is a typical small Mexican beach town which has seen little development until this marina. And for me, right now, it is a minor paradise. Like all of this part of Mexico, it has warm days and cool nights. It has cobblestone streets with mud-filled pot holes. Most blocks have one or two small, family run stores selling an eclectic assortment of inexpensive goods. The laundry I have been using also has a display case of ladies’ shoes. Most streets have small markets with an incomplete assortment of food items. It frequently requires a visit to two or more stores to complete a simple grocery list. It is in these details that the small town charm of La Cruz is seen. These will disappear with the completion of the marina and the infusion of money to follow.

I've spent the last three Friday evenings at the Black Forest Restaurant listening to Gypsy guitar music in a courtyard style restaurant owned by a German couple. Two nights ago I had an equally excellent meal in a small Mexican restaurant located in the open air basement of a Mexican family's house. No English was spoken by our server, the high school age daughter of the owners. Every second block in this town sports a restaurant similar to one of these. I've tried most of them now and they are all good!