Adventures in Mexico
2026
April - June
Sunday, May 24, 2026
Today, once again, the weather had changed - sunny with just enough cloud cover to create the perfect day for a visit to Cardón, the highly recommended hilltop restaurant majestically perched above Puerta Cortés. With sweeping views of the Sea of Cortez, the Puerta Cortés Marina, and the Gary Player Golf Course, it is a coveted destination for leisurely brunches and sunset dinners alike.
Driving up to the restaurant, we were awestruck by the scenery, then equally impressed by the prix fixe brunch menu. The experience features five courses - starters, seafood dishes, tacos, egg selections, and desserts - from which guests may choose one item or sample them all, with unlimited selections from each category. We had great fun sharing and tasting the various dishes, and every morsel was exceptional.
On the way home, we stopped at La Cayetana liquor store where Morgan picked out a nice bottle of tequila as a gift for a friend. From there, we endured a hot and humid walk back to Nirvana. After packing for his departure, Morgan called for a ride to the airport and, just like that, our visit together was over.
Saturday, May 23, 2026 – Espíritu Santo/Bahía Ensenada
Awakening to clear skies and comfortable temperatures, we decided to embark on a day cruise to Espíritu Santo, mimicking the local charter boats. Our destination of interest was Bahía Empachada (“overstuffed”), though it proved less exciting than we originally anticipated. Rather than dropping anchor there, we continued around the island to Bahía Ensenada - the spectacular bay we discovered on our previous outing.
Morgan dropped the fishing lines, hoping to reel in something delicious. As on our last trip, he hooked a small skipjack near the entrance to Bahía Caleta Partida. This one was released - as was a second later in the day. Once again, the fish won!
Nevertheless, as we entered the beautiful anchorage at Ensenada, we felt that we had won as well. The bay was calm and welcoming, with only three yachts anchored inside. One, named Pi, stretched nearly 300 feet long. Owned by Howard Schultz (founder of Starbucks), it occupied a good portion of the cove! We anchored, enjoyed lunch, then went for a refreshing swim in the crystal-clear water. Next, we paddled to shore to explore the white sand beach, transparent turquoise shallows, and striking terracotta-colored hillsides. Tiny shells and schools of juvenile fish dominated the underwater landscape, with one-inch Sergeant Major damselfish, juvenile baitfish, and delicate glass fish confidently darting about.
Unfortunately, just as we reached the small beach, three panga boats arrived chock-full of tourists - our cue to retreat back to Nirvana. John and Morgan paddled across the bay to investigate a small white statue nestled into the volcanic hillside, likely a Marian grotto shrine similar to those we have seen in other harbors, placed to protect mariners and memorialize those lost at sea.
By 3:30 p.m., we weighed anchor and began our scenic journey back toward the marina, passing the impressive island of La Ballena (“The Whale”), whose silhouette remarkably resembles a giant whale rising from the sea, along with numerous inviting turquoise anchorages along the way. As the afternoon progressed, the winds steadily increased, affirming our decision to return to the harbor for the night.
Arriving at the slip around 7:00 p.m., we celebrated a safe arrival and docking - likely our best of the trip! John immediately changed the oil (another victory), then we headed to NIM for Morgan’s farewell dinner. As always, the food was exceptional, and Marco and Karen took wonderful care of us. To top it off, Morgan, the working man, surprised us by secretly paying the check. As we departed, the staff asked Morgan when he would return. That’s the thing about this kind of travel - there is always a bittersweet feeling lingering beneath the beauty. It brings to mind the song We May Never Pass This Way Again by Seals and Crofts - a reminder to savor every place, every meal, and every moment together, because life keeps moving, tides keep changing, and nothing stays exactly the same forever.
Friday, May 22, 2026 – Playa Tecolote
Continuing to monitor the “squirrelly forecast” surrounding our elusive trip to Espíritu Santo Island, we decided another day trip would be the wiser choice. This time our destination was Playa Tecolote in search of warm turquoise water, white sand beaches, and a quiet palapa vibe. The locals rave about Tecolote, often declaring that compared to nearby Playa Balandra, “Balandra es para los niños!” With that in mind, we set off on the scenic thirty-minute drive, passing our old friends Bahía Falsa and Playa El Tesoro along the way.
Upon arrival, we were greeted with far more fanfare than expected. Young men enthusiastically directed traffic while others eagerly thrust menus into our hands, each insisting their palapa and lounge chairs were the best on the beach. This was definitely not the tranquil scene we had envisioned - but this is Mexico, where one quickly learns to expect the unexpected! Politely deflecting the sales pitches, we wandered down the beach searching for a location that offered both a peaceful setting and prime people-watching opportunities.
Eventually we selected a lively but comfortable palapa restaurant, rented three loungers, and ordered some cold libations and food. Perfect! …until it wasn’t. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a lone drummer setting up directly behind Morgan’s chair and instantly knew what was coming — BANDAS! As you may recall from our experiences in Mazatlán, these roaming brass-and-tuba beach bands specialize in loudly serenading unsuspecting, and sometimes reluctant, beachgoers. This was the first time we had encountered them in La Paz.
Much to my relief, the bands mostly gravitated toward the more crowded palapas farther down the beach. One by one they assembled, blasting music only a dozen feet apart and creating their own chaotic version of a “Battle of the Bands.” At times it felt more like a high school football game than a peaceful beach afternoon. Still, the “Oompah Loompahs” as we fondly refer to them are entertaining in their own uniquely Mexican way.
After lunch and a refreshing swim, the three of us wandered toward the quieter end of the beach where we discovered a much more relaxed atmosphere. Many visitors there had brought their own tents, coolers, and beach gear, and only one laid-back palapa bar serviced the area. We immediately agreed that next time we would head farther down the shoreline away from the crowds. Once again, reinforcing our ongoing mantra: “We are learning!”
Despite the bandas, we truly enjoyed the day - swimming in the warm, crystal-clear water, lounging beneath the palapas, and indulging in excellent people watching. By late afternoon, one small group made up of two guitarists and a tuba player seemed to surrender to the competition from the larger, louder bandas. They settled in behind us and began softly playing melodic tunes, almost as if they were rehearsing for themselves rather than performing for the crowd. As we prepared to leave, John handed them a tip and thanked them for the music. Their expressions immediately shifted to surprise and gratitude, and their smiles made the moment feel especially genuine.
At 4:30 p.m. our driver arrived just in time because, without warning, the gorgeous sunny afternoon abruptly vanished and rain began pouring from the sky. Welcome to La Paz - if you don’t like the weather, just wait ten minutes!
When it rains in La Paz, water rushes downhill through the streets toward the Malecón, turning the roads into rivers and making for a very soggy evening for Friday-night revelers. Morgan selected tonight’s dinner destination: Janta Asian Pub, a trendy Asian fusion and sushi restaurant along the Malecón. The food and service were excellent, though apparently the restaurant is also a popular birthday destination. Throughout the evening, sparker candles resembling miniature Roman candles erupted from desserts while the opening verses of “Celebration” by Kool & the Gang played repeatedly over the speakers. By the end of the night, I imagined the staff was probably more than ready for a different soundtrack!
Thursday, May 21, 2026 – Todos Santos and Playa Cerritos Day Trip
Following a semi-sleepless night and another windy forecast, we contacted Eric and Julie aboard Ocean Love - a couple we met in Tenacatita who were anchored at Salinita on Espíritu Santo. They confirmed that conditions were indeed blowing hard, at times reaching 26 knots, so collectively we made the decision to alter our plans and return to the slip. “We are learning!” has become a common phrase on this trip. The weather patterns around La Paz are far less predictable than what we are accustomed to in Santa Barbara. Additionally, these anchorages are still new to us, so unlike the local charter captains, we are not yet experts on the prime locations for comfortable overnight anchoring in windy conditions. For now, caution continues to guide our decisions.
Once settled safely back in the marina, we were determined not to waste the day. After a bit of research, we arranged a spontaneous road trip to Todos Santos and Playa Cerritos with our driver, Ulysses. It turned out to be the perfect day to explore Todos Santos - the town was pleasantly uncrowded, the sun was shining, and the temperatures were ideal for wandering. Since Morgan stayed there recently, he naturally became our personal tour guide.
We strolled through the plaza and along the colorful main street, passing charming restaurants, boutiques, galleries, and of course the infamous Hotel California. From there we stopped at Tequila Town where the incredibly knowledgeable owner guided us through several tequila tastings and shared fascinating stories about the production process.
By then hunger was setting in, so Morgan led us to Jazamango, a beautiful farm-to-table restaurant and organic farm created by renowned Mexican chef Javier Plascencia. Surrounded by lush gardens and a vine-covered outdoor patio, the setting was stunning. We arrived a bit before the lunch rush and became the restaurant’s first guests of the day, receiving warm, attentive service. Every bite was exceptional.
Ready for some beach time, we continued on to Playa Cerritos, the laid-back surf town where Morgan had spent considerable time during previous visits. He was greeted warmly by many of the locals he had befriended there. Charley and Pancho, who operate a small beach bar cart, mixed up excellent margaritas - the mango version was especially refreshing in the afternoon heat. We also stopped to visit Edgar at his surf shop, who generously offered us complimentary lounge chairs. Sitting comfortably with cold drinks in hand while watching surfers glide across the waves, we couldn’t have been happier.
Perched dramatically above the surf break, the abandoned Hacienda Cerritos still commands attention with its grand Spanish-style architecture. Sadly, the property now sits closed and visibly deteriorating. Rumor has it that disputes between the property owners and landowners resulted in a forced closure. Someday, if it ever reopens, we would absolutely love to stay there.
Meanwhile, Morgan rented a surfboard and paddled out to test the waves himself, successfully catching a few rides here and there. One of the great things about Cerritos is the consistency of the surf - the waves just keep rolling in, offering endless opportunities to try again.
Cerritos has grown tremendously since John and I visited thirteen years ago, yet thankfully it has still managed to retain much of its bohemian surf-town charm. A few larger hotel developments have appeared, some already abandoned, but overall, the area remains delightfully low-key, filled with beach shacks, casual restaurants, surf shops, and a scattering of beautiful homes.
Our drive back to La Paz was quiet and peaceful. Tired from a full day of exploring, we simply absorbed the beauty of the Baja landscape rolling past the windows - towering cardón cactus, rugged desert terrain, and tiny roadside towns scattered across the vastness. Dinner onboard was simple: leftover spiced chicken with roasted Anaheim chiles. Another wonderful day of unexpected adventure, even if it looked nothing like what we had originally forecasted.
Wednesday, May 20, 2026 - Bahía Falsa
In preparation for our departure to Bahía Falsa and Isla San Francisco, this morning was provisioning day. Once again, leaving the working force to field conference calls, we walked to the downtown Chedraui grocery store to stock up. Though smaller than the store farther down the road, it offers an excellent selection of food and produce. We finished quickly and wheeled our trusty Hulken bag into an Uber for the ride back to the marina.
Again, we made lunch on board while Morgan wrapped up his workday. By 3:30 p.m. we dropped the lines and motored out of the harbor, knowing this first hop would shorten tomorrow morning’s four-hour journey by nearly an hour.
There were only about five boats scattered throughout the anchorage, the air was incredibly warm, and the water was calm. After dropping anchor, we took a refreshing plunge into the warm water. Next we paddled over to the palapa bar at Playa El Tesoro, which proved slightly comedic since I sat crisscrossed on the front of Morgan’s paddleboard while he did all the hard work. We wobbled quite a bit but somehow made it across without incident. Greeted by the same woman who had served us on our previous visit, we ordered appetizers and drinks and relaxed into the quiet beauty of a Thursday afternoon.
Our return trip to Nirvana was a bit more challenging as the current strengthened and the wind began to build - a foreboding sign of what was to come. Morgan navigated skillfully while I simply hung on, and together we completed our short but very wobbly crossing back to the boat.
We had intended to BBQ chicken for dinner but quickly altered our plans after discovering the propane tank was empty and the wind conditions were steadily deteriorating. As we ate, Nirvana began lurching in odd directions, leaving us wondering what the night might bring.
Overnight, the wind intensified. The boat hobby-horsed relentlessly, creaked and groaned, while waves slapped loudly against the hull, making sleep difficult - especially with the hatches and portholes open in hopes of catching a breeze. At one point, I dreamt I was aboard the sinking pirate ship from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland! Morgan admitted to having strange dreams as well. With our massive 110-pound Bruce anchor firmly set, we never doubted our safety — but comfort was another matter entirely.
Tuesday, May 19, 2026
Following our new morning routine, we enjoyed a cup of coffee before heading out for a walk, leaving Morgan to work in peace aboard Nirvana. This morning we redirected our route down Calle Insurgentes to the boutique hotel, La Posada, to inquire about obtaining a beach and pool day pass. We quickly realized that since the beach lies along the bay beyond the anchorage, the ocean water there is not especially inviting for swimming. The pool, however, looked sparkling clean and beautifully maintained, though the complete absence of guests lounging around it gave us a slight pause. After asking about the amenities and pricing, we began our hot trek back toward the marina, ultimately completing a three-mile morning walk. Some people do “hot yoga,” but apparently, we do “hot walking.” This sport doesn’t seem to be catching on since the streets were desolate!
Morgan took a break from work for lunch, so we enjoyed seafood leftovers from the night before - delicious for our stomachs, though perhaps not as delightful for the lingering aroma inside Nirvana for the remainder of the afternoon.
Later, John and I treated ourselves to another wonderful massage at Azul Spa, where, once again, Elli worked her magic and delivered excellent massages at a very reasonable price.
Once Morgan wrapped up work for the day, we walked next door to Marina Cortés and enjoyed dinner on the patio at Restaurante Anzuelo. John and Morgan selected beef dishes while I opted for a refreshing chicken and fruit salad. Dining entertainment was provided by a mobula ray that darted by on top of the water. To cap off the evening, we indulged in dessert at La Fuente, the nearby paletería/nevería. The decadent frozen treats were the perfect ending to another relaxing day in La Paz.
Monday, May 18, 2026
With Morgan working onboard, our leisurely retiree morning coffee routine needed a bit of adjustment. After enjoying a cup together, John and I cleared the dinette table and headed out for a walk, leaving Morgan to tend to conference calls and other work-related responsibilities.
Wanting a change of scenery from our usual Malecón route, I suggested we walk over to the Santuario de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, a prominent cathedral that feels more neighborhood-oriented than the formal downtown cathedral. Named in honor of the Virgin of Guadalupe, one of the most beloved and important spiritual figures in Mexican Catholic life, the church immediately captured my interest when we first entered the harbor back in December. Its striking dome stood out against the skyline, and ever since, I had hoped to see it up close.
The cathedral itself is relatively new, with construction having begun in October 1945. Funded largely through local parishioners and volunteer labor, it remains a great source of community pride. Today, construction workers were once again busy around the property, which apparently is so common that locals joke the cathedral is perpetually under construction! Even so, it was beautiful, and I was delighted to finally experience it in person.
As we continued walking, John realized that the Museo de la Ballena y Ciencias del Mar was only a few blocks away - another La Paz “bucket list” destination I had been eager to visit. Along the way, we stopped at Coronel Café Restaurante for iced coffee and fresh green juice before exploring the museum’s fascinating exhibits dedicated to whales, marine life, and the Sea of Cortez ecosystem. Later we learned that today happened to be International Museum Day, which made the outing feel especially fitting and meant to be.
In the afternoon, John and I took another walk down the very hot Malecón, increasing our step count and sweat count substantially. Once Morgan finished work, we gathered aboard Nirvana for a relaxing “sundowner” before heading to Bismarkcito for a seafood dinner. As always, the scallop shots (non-alcoholic) were the undeniable favorite of the evening!
After dinner, we joined the lively flow of people strolling along the bustling Malecón and stopped in at Cayetana, our favorite tequila shop. We enjoyed browsing the impressive inventory while catching up with Paula and Damian - the store’s charming resident cat, who always seems happy to welcome visitors.
Sunday, May 17, 2026 – Morgan Arrives!
Today we eagerly welcomed our next onboard guest - Morgan! We were thrilled that he was able to carve out a bit of Nirvana time while still maintaining his aggressive work schedule, one of the great advantages of remote work. Just before his arrival, we squeezed in a quick walk along the Malecón to enjoy a little exercise and fresh air.
Following a late breakfast at the Marina Restaurant, the afternoon included a bit of napping - especially for Morgan, whose shuttle pickup had come painfully early at 5:45 a.m. Later, we hopped in a cab and enjoyed a slow drive down the Malecón to meet Chris and Phil at the beach club. At first, it appeared we might be relocated to the less fancy club, but fortunately, after a little string-pulling, once again, we secured spots at the coveted Blue Cortés Beach Club. With the strong winds finally beginning to subside, relaxing poolside in the warm sunshine felt absolutely wonderful.
As we had the previous day, we showered at the condo and spent time on the balcony watching the parade of yachts returning to the harbor from their weekend adventures. In the evening, we headed downtown for dinner at NIM.
Walking into the restaurant felt like a homecoming, with Karen and Marco greeting us with big smiles and warm hugs. We had so enjoyed their hospitality and energy during our visit to La Paz last December, and thankfully, nothing had changed. As always, the food was spectacular, and every detail of the meal was thoughtfully executed.
At the end of the evening, we said our goodbyes to Chris and Phil on their final night here in La Paz. Morgan, John, and I made the twenty-minute walk back home in unusually breezy and chilly conditions, with temperatures dipping into the 60s. By the time we finally arrived back at Nirvana, we were grateful to snuggle into our cozy maritime cocoon for the night.
Saturday, May 16, 2026 – Marina La Paz/Costa Baja Marina
Following a peaceful night and cooler temperatures in the anchorage, we began our one-hour journey back to our slip at Marina La Paz, jubilantly escorted by a playful pod of dolphins dancing alongside Nirvana. Once securely tied up, Chris and Phil gathered their belongings in preparation for a couple of nights at a condo in the Puerta Cortés Resort at Costa Baja Marina. We enjoyed a hearty lunch at Marina Café, dropped off laundry, and indulged in a well-earned afternoon nap.
Later in the day, transportation proved surprisingly difficult, as many drivers avoid heading to that side of town knowing the return trip will likely be empty. Eventually we arrived at the condo and strolled along the beach to the exclusive Blue Cortés Beach Club, accessible only to members and guests. Phil managed to secure four coveted loungers, and before long Chris had refreshing maracuyá margaritas delivered to our seats. We settled into complete comfort and awe, soaking in every glorious second of the afternoon.
After luxuriating in the simple pleasure of long “land showers,” we relaxed on the balcony for over an hour, mesmerized by the steady parade of yachts entering the harbor. Just as forecasted, the wind steadily intensified, sending strong gusts sweeping across the marina. This confirmed that Chris and Phil would not charter a fishing boat on Sunday. Soon we piled into the golf cart and held on tight for “Mr. Chris’ Wild Ride” down the winding roads to Majagua in the marina.
Majagua - the Spanish word for hibiscus trees commonly found throughout coastal Mexico and the Caribbean - combines modern décor, inventive cuisine, and exceptional craft cocktails into a spectacular dining experience. Ordering family style allowed us to sample an assortment of imaginative seafood creations and tacos, each dish somehow surpassing the last. Our waiter, Axel, was spirited, attentive, and impressively knowledgeable, adding even more enjoyment to the evening. To top it all off, Chris and Phil generously treated us to this memorable dinner. Needless to say, by the time we returned to Nirvana at 11 p.m., we drifted off to sleep almost instantly.
Friday, May 15, 2026 – Caleta Partida
We awoke to a perfectly glassy anchorage and wasted no time throwing the paddleboards in the water for another morning of exploration. John and Phil headed out first and returned full of excitement, reporting an incredible variety of sea life, including sea turtles, stingrays, and skates. Phil even spotted a whale skeleton in one of the neighboring coves. Later, Chris saw a massive ray trailing what looked like a five-foot tail, along with several stingrays gliding gracefully below the surface.
During my own paddle, I was thrilled to spot a sea turtle, a skate, beautiful orange-and-black king angelfish, and a rambunctious school of roosterfish splashing wildly across the surface of the water. All in all, it was a highly successful paddle adventure and a reminder of how alive these waters truly are.
Eventually, we weighed anchor and slowly cruised along the island to explore some of the many nearby anchorages - and there are plenty of them. Large mega yachts catered to their guests with luxurious beach setups scattered across pristine white sand beaches. We were especially enchanted by Bahía Ensenada, which boasts two spectacular coves tucked beneath dramatic desert cliffs. It immediately earned a spot on our “return visit” list, especially with Morgan arriving next week.
As we began our journey back toward Bahía Falsa, we soaked in the immense beauty surrounding us with artistic, wind-sculpted islands rising from impossibly blue water, calm inviting beaches, and dramatic volcanic landscapes unfolding around every corner. Once again, the fish proved elusive, but somehow it didn’t matter. Gliding across the serene bay while listening to Christopher Cross’s “Sailing” created the perfect soundtrack for the peaceful crossing home.
Following a short nap, we got suited up and headed over to Playa El Tesoro for some palapa-style food and drinks. The tide was much higher than the last time we visited, making it easy to pull the dinghy ashore before enjoying a refreshing swim in the warm bay. We relaxed and chatted with fellow boaters for a while, savoring the laid-back afternoon atmosphere, then returned to Nirvana to begin dinner preparations.
This evening’s feast featured the choice cuts left over from our previous steak dinner, fresh pargo ceviche, grilled chicken seasoned with Aleppo pepper and sumac, and a crisp garden salad. Another exquisite meal - the perfect ending to a truly memorable day.
Thursday, May 14, 2026 – Caleta Partida
As expected, it was a warm night in Bahía Falsa, though fortunately a light breeze kept us reasonably comfortable. We eased into the morning slowly, savoring coffee and the peaceful anchorage view while watching the arrival of a massive Carnival cruise ship in the distance. Eventually, the anchor came up, and the fishing lines went down. Chris and Phil — our resident fishing experts — were eager to hook some tasty sea morsels for the next meal.
Passing Balandra and Tecolote, there was little action, so we continued toward Espíritu Santo, our destination for the day. Along the way we spotted a sea turtle, a seal, dolphins, and a gorgeous schooner, but no fish — except for one crafty dorado that managed to escape Phil’s lure at the last second.
Rounding the island, the seas grew rougher and we admired the dramatic, rugged hillsides splashed in vivid shades of red and gray. In the distance we could see various anchorages dotted with charter boats enjoying the spectacular scenery. Soon we arrived at Caleta Partida, a beautiful anchorage John had scouted ahead of time. As we began our approach, suddenly - fish on! Chris eagerly reeled in a spunky skipjack tuna. Not exactly our preferred catch, but certainly better than no fish, so in the cooler it went.
Entering the anchorage was somewhat confusing because this area is formed by a narrow channel where Isla Partida and Espíritu Santo nearly meet, separated by only a small strip of land and a shallow waterway that can only be crossed by dinghy at high tide. From offshore, the waterway is completely hidden, though you can see boats anchored on the opposite side. We joined two other boats already tucked into the anchorage.
No sooner had we dropped the anchor than the wind arrived in full force, quickly building to 24 knots. Suddenly John questioned whether he had chosen the wrong anchorage after all. For several hours, the wind howled and Nirvana swung sharply from side to side, but after reviewing the evening and overnight forecast, we all agreed to stay put and ride it out.
At one point, a couple on a paddleboard from a nearby charter boat struggled desperately to paddle back to their mothership. The man had jumped into the water while the woman waved frantically, trying to get the captain’s attention for a dinghy pickup. Unfortunately, they were hidden behind Nirvana, making them invisible to the crew aboard the charter boat. I honked our horn and waved my arms wildly — still no response. We invited them to tie up alongside Nirvana and come aboard for a rest.
Then we noticed they had dropped something into the water. Assuming it was a GoPro, I jumped in to retrieve it, only to discover it was actually the handle to their paddle. Swimming back to the boat proved more challenging than expected due to the strong current — and unfortunately our jellyfish “friends” had returned, stinging me squarely on the knee.
The couple, Gabriela and Sebastian from Mexico City, were incredibly grateful for the rescue. They shared that they had visited Santa Barbara before and absolutely loved it.
Thankfully, our patience was rewarded. By 4:00 p.m. the wind finally eased, allowing us to lower the dinghy and explore the harbor. Heading toward the sandy spit, we passed a small fish camp and watched startled stingrays flutter beneath us through the crystal-clear turquoise water. Soon we located the narrow waterway separating the two islands and entered. It was far deeper than we had imagined, and crossing so effortlessly between the two islands by dinghy felt both surreal and delightfully decadent. Geologists believe that Espiritu Santo and Partida were once connected but later separated by erosion and tectonic activity.
Towering, jagged cliffs and cavernous rock formations surrounded us on both sides. Our first observation upon reaching the opposite anchorage was that it appeared significantly rougher and more exposed than our own.
On the way back to Nirvana, we stopped at the fish camp and inquired if they had any fish for sale. Unfortunately, like us, they had come up empty-handed. We continued exploring the large cove and white sand beaches by dinghy before motoring past another, much fancier fish camp. The elaborate construction and polished appearance were unlike anything we had encountered elsewhere in Mexico.
A nicely dressed man named Felix emerged and offered us two beautiful pargos (Mexican snapper). We immediately asked how he would like to be paid - beer, knives, cash? Smiling, he declined every offer and simply handed us the fish. Cheers erupted aboard Nirvana. Dinner was magically shaping up very nicely.
Chris tossed me one of the fish and I managed to catch it, proudly posing afterward with “the fish I caught.” Ha ha!
The next several hours became an all-out culinary production with Chef Chris firmly at the helm. Endless chopping, slicing, and prepping transformed into a decadent feast: skipjack ceviche and fresh pico de gallo for appetizers, followed by Asian-style pargo served alongside marinated sesame cucumbers. Every bite was delicious, and we ended the evening feeling immensely grateful for our unforgettable first day at Espíritu Santo.
Wednesday, May 13, 2026 – La Paz to Bahia Falsa
We awoke to another warm morning in the harbor and spent the early hours tidying up and preparing for the arrival of our guests, Chris and Phil, who were flying in from LAX. Right on schedule, they arrived, made a quick provisioning stop at the market, and before long, we were dropping our very stiff and salty lines and motoring out toward Bahía Falsa. We’ll definitely need to clean those sun-soaked lines when we return to the harbor.
Just as we remembered, the anchorage was wide open and peaceful, with only four boats taking advantage of the calm weather. After settling in, we gathered for a classic “Sundowner,” complete with a generous charcuterie board and plenty of laughter as the sun slowly dipped lower in the sky.
Then Chris and Phil took over the galley, preparing a truly memorable dinner of perfectly cooked ribeye steaks, garlic broccoli, and Anaheim peppers, all paired with two gifts - bottles of Diatom and Rombauer Chardonnay. Needless to say, the crew had absolutely no complaints.
As the evening heat lingered, we ran the generator and air conditioning as long as possible, savoring every cool breath of air before finally turning out the lights and drifting off into dreamland aboard Nirvana.
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
Acclimating to boat life always takes a day or two. Even when securely tied in a slip rather than sailing offshore, it’s still a transition - especially at night. Every unfamiliar sound seems amplified: creaks and groans from the dock lines, fish nibbling at the hull, gentle boat motion, shifting temperatures, a different bed, or even fumbling to locate the bathroom in the dark. Sleep aboard has its own rhythm, and it takes time to settle back into it.
Morning brought the usual round of maintenance and chores that inevitably follow time away from the boat. We hired both a boat cleaner and a bottom cleaner to tackle the larger projects while John focused on reinstalling the modified rudder arm - a job that proved far more difficult than expected. In an effort to stay out of the way, I escaped for a walk along the Malecón. The waterfront was quiet in the growing morning heat, with only a scattering of diners lingering at outdoor cafés. I always enjoy admiring the animated bronze sculptures that celebrate the sea life, history, and spirit of La Paz.
Provisioning was also on the day’s agenda, so we hopped into a DiDi and headed to Chedraui - the store no one seems quite sure how to pronounce. The aisles were crowded, our shopping list felt endless, and perhaps the unfamiliar layout made the process seem even longer. Eventually, we returned to Nirvana, unloading our trusty Hulkin wheeled bag before gratefully retreating into the blessed relief of the boat’s air conditioning and escaping the oppressive 97-degree heat.
By 5:30 p.m., we sensed a slight break in the temperature and headed back out for another stroll along the Malecón, which had transformed completely from the quiet morning scene. Beyond the natural beauty of La Paz itself, the way people gather and interact here is equally beautiful. Young girls practiced volleyball on the beach while proud parents relaxed nearby. Other locals sat motionless with phones in hand, hoping to capture the sun’s glorious descent below the horizon. A group of elders assembled eagerly for a tai chi class while a middle-aged running club gathered nearby, preparing for an evening run. Clearly, the people of La Paz deeply cherish their town and genuinely enjoy sharing it with one another.
After quick showers back at the marina, we returned once again to the Malecón for dinner at Claro Fish Jr., which proudly claims to serve the “Best Seafood in Town.” Judging by the steady stream of local patrons, the claim may not be far off. With Maroon 5 playing in the background, the people-watching proved nearly as delicious as the meal itself.
Monday, May 11, 2026
Our visit home to Santa Barbara was filled with joyful reunions and celebrations with friends and family. After my mom’s fall and hip injury in early March, I was especially grateful for the opportunity to spend meaningful time with my parents and family in South Pasadena. We even managed to sneak in an early Mother’s Day celebration together.
It was also wonderful to reconnect with harbor friends at SBYC and during Wet Wednesdays. As always, I cherished teaching my aqua classes and seeing familiar faces again. We also attended the annual Catalina Island Conservancy Ball with the Hathaways, where we met a delightful group of new friends and enjoyed a truly memorable evening.
Then, after a couple of postponed departures, we were finally ready to return to La Paz once again. Following an early-morning drive to Los Angeles, we were pleasantly surprised to be upgraded to First Class on Alaska Airlines, which we took as a promising sign for the journey ahead.
La Paz greeted us with a very warm embrace, with temperatures soaring into the high 90s. Seeing NIRVANA floating peacefully in the marina instantly filled us with happiness and brought us right back into la vie nautique. After unpacking nearly 200 pounds of boat parts, provisions, and a few t-shirts, we settled quickly back into our familiar routines. True to form, John immediately dove into boat projects, while I happily surrendered to a much-needed nap.
That evening, we wandered over to nearby Restaurante Anzuelo for an oceanfront seafood dinner — made even more enjoyable by the rare luxury of air conditioning.
The familiar sights, sounds, and rhythms of marina life felt like a true homecoming. Once again, we are filled with gratitude and excitement as we begin yet another chapter in this marvelous adventure.
Tuesday, April 14, 2026
As I’ve mentioned before, cruising isn’t always the carefree, wind-in-your-hair lifestyle people imagine. This morning, John dove headfirst (literally) into a couple of less glamorous boat projects: stubborn head pump and a broken stair. The head was one of those jobs no one envies. After swapping out parts and offering up a hopeful “let’s see if that works,” he emerged at last.
Meanwhile, I had established my own survival strategy - lavender air freshener generously sprayed onto a Covid mask - while I worked away on the blog. When John finally came up and saw me in my makeshift “hazmat chic,” it earned a well-deserved laugh from both of us. Without all the proper tools on hand, the stair repair became more of a “to be continued,” but he made some progress.
With chores behind us, we rewarded ourselves with a walk along the Malecón. This time, it felt noticeably quieter than our December visit. Under the intense midday sun, it became clear why - most people wisely retreat during the heat and reappear later, when the day softens into evening.
In the evening we invited Inga and John from Aurora over to Nirvana for sundowners - a tradition we enjoy. Good company, easy conversation, and a gentle harbor backdrop made for a perfect reset after the morning’s efforts.
Later, John and I headed to Bismarkcita for dinner, where we shared a memorable seafood feast: a scallop shooter to start, followed by pescado relleno, a whole fish stuffed with seafood and baked in foil. It was as delicious as it sounds. Our server, Gabi, was cheerful and attentive, adding to the experience.
After dinner, we stopped by La Cayetana, a tequila shop, to pick up a few gifts, then took a leisurely stroll along the Malecón. By now, the city had come alive. Cars cruised the long waterfront in a lively parade - engines rumbling, music blasting, and, in true local fashion, kids happily leaning out of windows without a seatbelt in sight. Along the promenade, families, couples, and groups of friends filled the walkway - strolling, skating, scootering - everyone out enjoying the cooler evening air.
It’s an undeniably heartwarming scene… full of life and energy.
Monday, April 13, 2026 La Paz / La Cruz Marina
This morning we set out on a short hop into La Paz Harbor to fuel up and check in to our slip at Marina de La Paz. Though the distance was minimal, the harbor was anything but quiet - boat traffic was heavy, turning what should have been a quick jaunt into a slow and cautious dance.
Arriving at the fuel dock, we found a small flotilla already in progress: two large boats actively fueling and two more waiting their turn. I yelled to the attendant to confirm our place in line and was promptly asked if we had a reservation. We did not, but fortunately, he placed us in the queue. Holding position in a sailboat near a busy harbor entrance is no small feat. For the next 30 minutes, John expertly maneuvered Nirvana, pivoting and adjusting constantly to avoid incoming traffic. By the time our turn came, we were both feeling the heat - literally and figuratively.
At Marina Costa Brava, the fueling process includes a floating containment string placed around each boat to catch any stray fuel or oil - a thoughtful touch. Jorge, the attendant, was both chatty and efficient, and before long, we were topped off and ready for our next challenge: navigating into the harbor and finding our slip.
By noon, we were safely tucked into our temporary home for the next few days. As returning customers, we were warmly welcomed by the staff at Marina de La Paz and quickly completed the check-in formalities. With the essentials handled, we turned our attention to more pressing matters - lunch and a much-needed nap.
Our friends aboard Aurora were docked just across from us, so plans quickly came together for an evening cruisers’ happy hour on the dock, followed by dinner at a local favorite, Toro Güero. At happy hour, we had the pleasure of meeting Mac and Mary Shroyer, the original developers of Marina de La Paz. The marina holds the distinction of being the first floating marina on the Baja California Peninsula, and Mac is widely known as the “Father of the Mexican panga” for his influence on small-boat design in the region. Their son, Neil, now runs the operation. Earlier during our check-in, I met Neil’s daughter, who encouraged me to introduce myself to Mary, a fellow retired teacher. We met and instantly found common ground, enjoying a warm and easy conversation.
As the sun dipped lower, our group of six set off away from the Malecón, walking up Mariano Abasolo toward Toro Güero. The restaurant lived up to its reputation with excellent service and beautifully prepared sea bass, offered in a variety of styles: ajo, a la plancha, mango, and more. It was a festive evening, tinged with a bit of nostalgia, as we celebrated Will and Tim’s final night in town before their return to Canada.
Sunday, April 12, 2026 – La Paz/ Picheligue/Bahía Falsa
Picheligue (Bahía Falsa) may be one of the calmest anchorages we’ve experienced—so still it felt almost like floating on a pond. We woke to an unlikely duet: birds chattering in the mangroves and the distant rumble of semi-trucks rolling along the nearby highway. An unusual combination, perhaps, but one we’ve come to accept as part of the rhythm here. And truthfully, we were happy and completely at ease.
Curious to explore, we paddled our boards over to Playa Tesoro Escondido, the small beach nearby, to check out the palapas. It was still early, and the restaurant hadn’t opened yet; only a handful of locals were setting up canopies and preparing for the day. As often happens, a casual conversation led to something more meaningful. We struck up a chat with a pair of Americans and soon discovered the woman was Tinka Sherman from South Pasadena, along with her son, Jack. In that delightful small-world way, our families had known each other years ago, giving us an instant connection and plenty of memories to share.
We returned to Nirvana to pick up our beach provisions, then spent our day at the beach together, eventually sharing a seafood lunch under a palapa. The water was bathtub-warm (a balmy 86 degrees) and so shallow that it invited long, lazy wades rather than proper swims. All around us, local families gathered in full force. Multiple generations enjoyed the day together - feasting on homemade ceviche, playing music, and settling in beneath sun umbrellas. It’s a scene we’ve come to admire deeply: simple, joyful, and centered on time together.
Back at Nirvana, we succumbed to the heat and activity with an afternoon nap, followed by one last leisurely spin around the anchorage in the dinghy. As the sun dipped lower, John began preparing for our early morning departure, while I put together dinner, closing
Saturday, April 11, 2026 - Passage: Bahia de Los Muertos to Picheligue
Shortly after 8 a.m., we quietly motored out of Bahia de Los Muertos, leaving behind John’s glasses but taking with us a cherished collection of memories from our brief stay in this magical place. Heading towards Jacques Cousteau Island, with tropical skies and calm seas, we dropped a line in the water, remembering that this was the location where Dylan caught his epic dorado. Once again, the fish were elusive, but the sea mammals made up for it. Far in the distance, an enormous humpback whale entertained himself and nearby observers by breaching repeatedly, creating a dramatic wake. Soon after, a pod of playful dolphins followed our bow.
In the distance, we saw three panga boats circling what appeared to be large dolphins or pilot whales. We were not close enough to identify them until, suddenly, the pod was about 20 feet from Nirvana’s portside. Recognizing what they were, John and I both exclaimed, “ORCAS”! Excited but cautious, we attempted to video and watched the pod chase behind our boat. Recently in the news, there have been reports of juvenile orcas disabling the rudders of sailboats off the coast of Portugal. We prayed that these orcas had not learned this dangerous behavior. Fortunately, they just seemed curious, not destructive. Another curiosity was that the tourist pangas allowed swimmers to enter the water while the orcas were nearby. Knowing they are “killer whales”, I would have opted out of that portion of the tour!
Passing Isla Espiritu Santi, boat traffic increased significantly. Since it was Saturday, there were numerous private and tour vessels out enjoying the scenic bays and wildlife. Passing Balandras Bay, another playful whale leaped out, providing immense entertainment to its audience.
Arriving at Picheligue (Bahia Falsa) we encountered turquoise water and three other boats. Quickly, we dropped the anchor off a white sandy beach. Soon Aurora arrived and anchored behind us. This little safe haven was tucked in mangroves, somewhere between the cruise ship and ferry docks and the highway that connects La Paz to every small beach town. Immediately, we felt at home and at peace (La Paz).
Prior to a scheduled sundowner on Aurora, we zipped around the anchorage and ship area for a bit of inquisitive exploration. The docking area was immense as were the ships that waited for departure.
We enjoyed our tour of Aurora, as well as our time with the crew of Aurora. The glowing sunset, highlighting dark shadows of cacti, was spectacular, reminding us how much we treasure La Paz and our cruising life.
Friday, April 10, 2026
Determined to recover John’s missing prescription glasses, we began the day with snorkel gear in hand, heading straight to the boat launch area for a second underwater search mission. The water was crystal clear - ideal conditions, we thought - but despite our best efforts, the glasses remained elusive. On the bright side, the hunt turned into an impromptu snorkeling tour, with plenty of exotic fish to distract us from our failed recovery operation.
From there, we motored over to a favorite dive spot we had explored with Dylan back in December. Dropping anchor near the reef, we slipped into the warm, turquoise water and resumed our roles as amateur marine biologists. I happily identified spotted puffers, needlefish, and a variety of other reef dwellers, until, quite suddenly, my peaceful survey was interrupted by a sharp sting on my lip… followed quickly by my cheek… and then my chin.
John took a look but could only see what appeared to be my strands of hair. Meanwhile, the burning sensation intensified, making it clear that this was no ordinary encounter. I snorkeled a bit longer (perhaps out of stubbornness) but eventually conceded that I had likely brushed up against the same culprit that got John—a Portuguese Man-of-War tentacle.
Thankfully, we knew the drill. A rinse in salt water did the trick, and within about 30 minutes, the pain subsided with no lasting damage - just another memorable “souvenir” from the sea.
After rinsing off, we took the dinghy ashore near the resorts at Bahía de los Sueños and made our way to the Centro de Trenes Restaurant. The soft sand made beaching the dinghy difficult, so John anchored just offshore and waded in. As always, we were warmly welcomed by the familiar staff, a hallmark of this special place.
Lunch was delicious, and the jamaica (hibiscus) margarita was a standout. We noticed that the second-story model train display had been partially remodeled since our last visit. The owner, now elderly, is no longer able to maintain the elaborate setup, a bittersweet reminder of how even the most whimsical creations evolve over time.
In the early evening, we invited the crew from Aurora over for a sundowner. As we swapped stories, we discovered that Will had also fallen victim to our stinging nemesis, bringing our unofficial tally to a solid 50% of the group! Misery may love company, but in this case, it also made for good laughs.
It was a wonderful evening - one of those easy, laughter-filled gatherings that perfectly captures the spirit of cruising life, where shared adventures quickly turn strangers into friends.
Thursday, April 9, 2026
Soon the promise of daylight broke through as the dark horizon gave way to a luminous glow. John took over the watch at 5:00 a.m. while I returned to the berth for a few more hours of shut-eye. When I awoke at 7:15, the welcoming white sands of Bahía de los Muertos were visible in the distance, and our booby family had grown to five members.
Cruising into the anchorage, we joined four other boats and quickly dropped anchor. We celebrated our first 24-hour crossing - managed by just the two of us aboard Nirvana - with a well-earned breakfast. Afterward, we checked in with family back home, then took the dinghy out to explore a bit. We also visited a neighboring boat, Victoria, which we recognized from Cherry Cove last summer, and enjoyed catching up with her owners, Chip and Kaye.
After a nap and lunch, we headed to the beach by paddleboard. The shoreline here is a bit deceptive. It looks sandy from a distance, but beneath the surface are patches of rock and coral hidden by the sand, making landings trickier than expected. After finding a safe spot, we went ashore and walked the beach, passing a large encampment of locals who were clearly prepared for fun. About ten vehicles were parked nearby, and under a huge canopy were picnic tables, a stage, loudspeakers, and even disco lights. It was all very impressive.
We continued to the far end of the beach and enjoyed a pleasant swim in front of the only hotel and resort in the area. But as John stepped out of the water, he suddenly groaned in pain. I looked down and saw two jellyfish near his feet, one of their long tails wrapped around his ankles. After extracting the creature, he rubbed sand on the sting and then went back into the water, hoping it might relieve the burning. Fortunately, within about ten minutes the pain subsided, which was especially lucky, since he had been stung by a small Portuguese man o’ war. We soon noticed many more scattered along the shoreline and floating in the shallows, useful cautionary knowledge for any future swims.
Later in the afternoon, our friends aboard Aurora sailed in and anchored beside us. After another nice swim, we all dinghied ashore for dinner at the restaurant 1535. The name commemorates Hernán Cortés’s 1535 landing in Baja California Sur. As before, the service was a bit spotty, but the servers were friendly, the food was tasty, and the view was spectacular - especially at sunset. The restaurant is also home to two exotic cats who behave as though they own the place, wandering from table to table in search of scraps. Rufus, the cat who chose me as his target, was particularly bold, planting his front paws on the table and pawing at my brochetas. Fortunately, he was adorable, so I tolerated his rude behavior.
Heading back after dinner, four of us piled into our dinghy, which was helpful since it takes a fair amount of manpower to haul it on and off the beach. We boarded without incident, but just as John was lifting the wheels, his glasses slipped off and disappeared into the water. What followed was a frantic search-and-retrieval mission, with headlamps blazing and both Tim and me diving in to hunt. Despite our valiant efforts, we came up empty-handed and returned to the boats soggy and a little defeated. Thankfully, they were not John’s primary glasses. Still, in the morning we plan to return to the scene of the crime for one more attempt.
Wednesday, April 8, 2026 – Mazatlán Departure
After carefully reviewing wind models and weather apps, John wisely chose today for our 24-hour crossing from Mazatlán to Bahía de Los Muertos—and his timing could not have been better. By 8:30 am, we were safely navigating out of Mazatlán’s sometimes unpredictable harbor, greeted by light winds, calm seas, and brilliant blue skies streaked with delicate mares’ tails.
After two wonderful weeks in Mazatlán, both we and Nirvana were filled with great memories, but there’s always something invigorating about returning to the open sea.
Along the way, we were treated to classic Sea of Cortez wildlife sightings: several large sea turtles, a playful pod of dolphins, and, of course, the ever-present brown-footed boobies. On our last crossing, a flock of them hitched a ride overnight, and true to form, we soon welcomed a visitor again—then another by nightfall. Sailors consider them a sign of good luck, so we were more than happy to have them aboard.
We departed in loose company with Aurora, Sabbatical, and Stargazer, but before long, we found ourselves alone on a wide, open sea with very little marine traffic. In the early morning hours, a pair of ferries—running both north and south between Mazatlán and La Paz—passed by, along with a couple of distant cargo ships. Otherwise, it was just us, the birds, the glow of the midnight moon, and a sky overflowing with stars—quiet, steady companions through the night.
We rotated night watch in three-hour shifts, though sleep proved elusive. The heat and humidity, intensified by our sealed hatches and portholes, made for a long and restless night.
Tuesday, April 7, 2026
Today was another low-key day as we prepared for our departure. The boat cleaners left Nirvana spic and span, John officially checked us out of the marina, and we spent time doing meal prep for our overnight passage at sea.
Our social calendar was light but enjoyable, an hour of relaxation by the pool in the afternoon, followed by an El Cid Marina potluck with fellow cruisers. We were grateful to Ange from Destiny for organizing such a fun gathering. It was especially nice to meet the crew from Aurora, John, Inga, Tim, and Will, who will be heading toward Los Muertos and La Paz around the same time we will. It always feels good to put faces to boats you’ll likely cross paths with again down the line.
Monday, April 6, 2026
Preparing for our departure on Wednesday, today was a workday. Computer tasks, a provisioning run to La Soriana, tidying up Nirvana—nothing glamorous, just the necessary rhythms of cruising life. It was largely uneventful… until it wasn’t.
At one point, I made a horrible discovery—the center stone from my wedding ring was missing.
I retraced my steps, searched every surface, every corner of the boat - nothing. I came up empty-handed… literally. It was one of those sinking moments that’s hard to shake, and I found myself feeling pretty despondent.
Sensing I needed a change of scenery, John gently nudged me out of my funk and back into the world. We ordered an Uber and headed to the Zona Histórica de Mazatlán for a return visit to El Presidio. Thankfully, the Semana Santa crowds had finally cleared, and what had recently been a chaotic trek turned into a quick, easy 15-minute drive.
Dinner, as always, was lovely, and a leisurely stroll through Plaza Machado began to lift my spirits. At one point, we even joked about replacing my ring with something from one of the street vendors - an idea that felt both ridiculous and oddly comforting.
A couple was performing nearby, so we settled into a café to listen. As the music drifted through the plaza, a balloon artist made his rounds, crafting colorful creations for delighted children. John waved him over and asked for something special - a mermaid balloon for me. When he handed it over, I couldn’t help but smile. It was perfect, resembling the tuba-playing mermaid statue in the plaza, a whimsical nod to Mazatlán’s spirit.
It was a gentle reminder that even difficult days can soften, especially when you’re surrounded by the right person and just the right amount of magic.
Sunday, April 5, 2026 - HAPPY EASTER!
Easter morning looked very different from our usual celebration. Before departing Santa Barbara, I had “hidden” Easter baskets in my closet for Morgan and Dylan. Typically, we would all enjoy a festive brunch together, but this year the holiday unfolded in separate places. Morgan joined the Thurmans in South Pasadena, visiting DD at her rehabilitation facility before gathering for brunch with the family at Mike and Michelle’s. Meanwhile, Dylan went home to SB for the weekend and celebrated with Colleen’s family.
From our research, it seemed that Easter brunch is not really a big tradition here in Mazatlán, so we opted instead for a beachside lunch at Diego’s.
It was a beautiful day, and the beach was alive with families gathered both at the restaurant and along the sand. There was no shortage of colorful entertainment as parasailers launched and landed overhead and traditional bandas sinaloenses filled the air with music. Mazatlán is considered the birthplace of this lively style, whose roots reflect a blend of Spanish military bands, German and Eastern European influences, and local Mexican traditions. Brass-heavy and driven by a strong drumbeat, the music is meant to be played outdoors and played loudly. Some tourists may feel it interrupts the peaceful beach atmosphere, but the bottom line is that bandas are an enduring and beloved Mazatlán tradition.
There was so much to take in as we sat at our table, enjoying our drinks, lunch, and the vibrant scene all around us. Afterward, we strolled back to the resort as hundreds of people continued pouring into town and onto the beaches. Naturally, all that activity wore us out, so we returned to Nirvana for a nap.
Just before sunset, our new acquaintances, Ron and Annie Hood of Steadfast, from Redondo Beach, joined us for a sundowner. They have cruised extensively, both here in Mexico and throughout the Caribbean, so there were plenty of stories to share. As it turned out, Ron even knew one of my sorority sisters from Oxy. A small world on the water!
Saturday, April 4, 2026
With my back finally feeling better, we set our sights on visiting El Faro de Mazatlán - the world-famous working lighthouse perched high on Crestón Island. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a sea of cars, swarming tourists, and a fair amount of confusion, as the area also serves as a hub for charter tours. Eventually, we were funneled into a line for group admission, since the number of visitors allowed up the hill is carefully monitored.
The ascent begins as a winding paved road, reminiscent of switchbacks, before giving way to a staircase of roughly 360 steps. Every 60 steps, your progress is painted directly onto the stairs. I’m still undecided whether this is motivational…or mildly discouraging! What surprised us most was the crowd: primarily Mexican families, many accompanied by both elders and tiny children, all making the climb together. Despite the heat, the mood was upbeat, almost like a marathon, with those descending offering encouraging smiles and silent “you’ve got this” support.
By the time we reached the top of the 515-foot hill, we were hot, sweaty, and definitely ready for water - but the reward was immediate. The panoramic views were spectacular: the harbor, the city, and the vast Pacific stretching in every direction. Being a Saturday, the line for the Glass Bridge was long, but we decided to stick it out. After removing our shoes, we cautiously stepped out onto the glass extension, taking in the dizzying views above, below, and beyond. Los Dos Hermanos, the tiny islands in the distance, were enchanting. Nearby, zipliners launched themselves into the air, soaring across the water in a mix of thrill and bravery.
From there, we made our way to Plaza Machado and settled in for a well-earned lunch at El Cielo, a charming, garden-like café draped in vines and tropical greenery. The jamaica juice with grapefruit was especially refreshing, and the meal hit the spot perfectly. We also rewarded ourselves with ice cream from a cute little pink stand. We savored this tasty treat in front of Teatro Ángela Peralta, while listening to an accomplished pianist rehearsing behind closed doors.
After an afternoon nap, we headed out for a late dinner at Yoko, a sushi spot near El Cid Marina. Sushi in Mexico can be…an adventure, and this experience was no exception. Our first clue? About 95% of the rolls featured cream cheese. While we have nothing against cream cheese, it’s not exactly traditional sushi fare! We managed to find two rolls without it and added some nigiri to the order, including marlin, which turned out to be surprisingly delicious.
The meal itself was excellent, but the atmosphere added an unexpected twist. Scattered around the restaurant were a few burly, “bodyguard-type” individuals wearing headsets, quietly observing the room. Curious, we wondered who, or what, they were there for. As we finished dinner, one of them approached our table, cleared the dishes, and then presented the check. Um…okay! Just another reminder that la vida es diferente aquí en México.
Friday, April 3, 2026
Still moving gingerly from my back injury, we kept things close to home (boat) today. Not exactly our preferred pace, especially with so many incredible sights to explore and limited time here in Mazatlán, but sometimes health sets the itinerary whether you like it or not.
John went to the gym for a workout, then we took the water taxi over to the El Cid Beach Club for a dose of relaxation, lunch, and a very brief (and cautious) swim. We greeted Lorenzo, our “hat man”, and settled in under a palapa for a delicious seafood lunch. Afterwards, we relocated to lounge chairs perched along the cliffs, where the views stretched endlessly across the ocean. It was picturesque, with tour boats cruising in and out of the harbor below while the nearby helicopter operation added a steady hum of activity overhead.
Back at Nirvana, we assumed our now-favorite cockpit seats just in time for the evening’s entertainment, the post-sunset tour boat parade. Like clockwork, the boats streamed back into the harbor: engines roaring, music pumping, and passengers singing (or enthusiastically shouting) at full volume – running lights optional. With the holiday crowds, there were more boats than usual, turning the scene into a lively, floating fiesta - free entertainment for those of us happily watching from the sidelines.
For dinner, we opted for a nearby Pancho’s Restaurant - a smaller, quieter offshoot of the beachside spot we visited last week with Mark and Dylan. It was a welcome change from the bustle of the Malecón, offering a more intimate setting without sacrificing ambiance. As before, the space was beautifully appointed, and the food and service were spot on.
Even though life handed us a few lemons with this back injury, we did what any seasoned cruisers would do - added salt and tequila, sat back, and enjoyed the margarita. Slower pace or not, we’re still grateful for every moment of the journey.
Thursday, April 2, 2026 - Mazatlan
Another visit with Dr. Backman was on the agenda this morning, and I’m so thankful we found him—my back is finally beginning to feel stronger. After the appointment, John and I set out for a long walk along the Malecón, stretching our legs for at least an hour. The heat was intense, but the ocean breeze offered just enough relief, and the lively sights and sounds along the waterfront kept us happily distracted.
As fatigue began to set in, we flagged down a pulmonía and zipped our way to the Centro Histórico for lunch at Totem, a spot both Mark and ChatGPT had recommended. It did not disappoint. The food was heavenly, and the shaded patio made for a wonderfully relaxed dining experience.
From our table, I caught sight of two striking yellow towers rising above the nearby buildings. Curious, we made our way over after lunch to visit the Catedral Basílica de la Inmaculada Concepción, built between 1856 and 1899. The cathedral is a stunning blend of Baroque, Gothic, and neoclassical styles, and stepping inside, even briefly, revealed intricate details and a peaceful grandeur that left a lasting impression.
We continued our afternoon with a bit of shopping and another stroll through Plaza Machado, soaking in the charm of the historic district.
By the end of our six-hour outing, we were thoroughly spent and ready to return to Nirvana. Unfortunately, Semana Santa was in full swing, and it seemed the entire city had the same idea. What is normally a quick 15-minute ride turned into a 40-minute crawl along the Malecón - but even that felt like part of the experience in this vibrant, bustling place.
Returning to the peaceful calm of El Cid Marina was a welcome change of pace. John spent the next few hours tackling the unpleasant task of scrubbing harbor sludge from the bottom of the dinghy - the inevitable price we paid for leaving it in the water for six straight days.
With no desire to venture back into the Semana Santa crowds, I prepared dinner. We ended the day exactly as we needed, quietly enjoying a relaxing evening onboard Nirvana.
Wednesday, April 1, 2026
Since it was April Fool’s Day, I decided it was time to stop fooling around with my strained back. We did a little research and found a local chiropractor, Dr. Steven Backman (yes, that’s really his name), and quickly booked an appointment. His approach wasn’t quite what I was used to, but I must admit, it made a noticeable difference. Encouraged by the improvement, I even scheduled a follow-up visit.
Feeling much better, we made a quick run (or hobble) to Fresh Market to pick up a few necessities before heading back to the marina for some much-needed beach time. As luck would have it, we arrived just as a wave of 300 cruise ship guests were loading onto buses - perfect timing for a little peace and quiet.
That evening, we made dinner plans with Mark, as it was his final night in Mazatlán. We returned to our very first dining spot upon arrival, Diego’s, one of his favorites. It turned into a celebratory sunset dinner, with the staff - especially our server, Nabor - making sure our guest of honor felt well taken care of. As the evening stretched later than expected, we found ourselves reflecting on how we met, the memorable time we’d shared, and what adventures might lie ahead—grateful for a friendship that had grown along the way.
