Monday February 22,2011 – Bahia Salinas – Isla Carmen
A large bay on the East side of Isla Carmen – Bahia Salinas- was where we anchored on Sunday and Monday night. Remnants of a shipwreck are visible in the middle of the bay, and the gulls and pelicans perch on the skeletal frame barely visible above the water’s surface.
The weather has been calm and seas are peaceful. We managed to sail with the genoa for a short time yesterday as we skirted kayakers and made our way across the strait from Puerto Escondido to Isla Carmen.
We went ashore on Monday to the little settlement that at one time was a thriving salt operation. There was a white fine sand beach, and a few new buildings scattered among the ruins of the old. We met Francisco – the caretaker who apparently lives here and guides sheep hunters in the hills of the island. Their trophies are similar to our Rocky Mountain Sheep with large curled racks. The sign on the island warns that hikers must have permission and that the area is a marine and wildlife reserve, but apparently that is not entirely the case.
The pueblo was a fascinating juxtaposition of ruins of an abandoned boom town, complete with the equipment and rail lines of the salt operation, and the new thatched roof haciendas built to accommodate the big game hunters. I was reminded of Red Rose Mines, abandoned above New Hazelton. It just looked like everyone left one day and forgot to turn out the lights. That impression was accentuated by the crows and vultures, sitting in the old power lines and on torn pieces of sheet metal, watching us as we moved among the lonely landscape. Above it all, a bright golden sun and a vivid blue sky washed the abandoned white walls of the village with light.
The construction was all concrete, and rock and a tabby which appears to have been made with coral; so the crumbling walls are reminiscent of what I imagine Greek or Roman ruins to be. I thought often of the rock walls we had seen in Uxmal and Chitzen Itza on the other side of the country.
When we landed on the beach we were greeted by a friendly dog, named Carmonella, and he acted as our tour guide throughout our walk. He took a liking to Lyle and stayed close by him, only dashing away, in a frenzy, every now and then to chase an indigenous hare. He could run like the wind, but not as fast as the rabbits! Consequently many of our pictures include snaps of the dog.
It was a photographer’s paradise, with glassless windows framing pristine seascapes, and the textures and colors of the decaying walls. The peeling paint of the signs, the rusting machinery and the faded tiles amongst the cacti and palmettos; and behind it all the huge salt flats from the salt mining operation. I wished that I had the ability to snap in black and white….I think they would have been very interesting pictures.
I walked out to the salt ponds that we had previously seen from a distance with Ron and Monica as we hiked across the ridge from Ballandra Bay. They were remarkably like an arctic landscape, and the crystallized salt looked just like snow. I was able to find a beautiful salt crystal and I tucked it in my pocket. As I walked back towards the sea and the abandoned pueblo I thought of “Silverado” – that little settlement against the vast landscape of desert and sky.
We have been alone in the anchorage, but Lyle rowed the dinghy back to shore to bring Francisco some cerveza that he had asked for. When he got there he helped Francisco and two other men, get a Dodge Ram truck started. They seemed concerned that they had a group of hunters coming, and were dependant on the vehicle to take their guests into the mountains. Lyle enjoyed being with the Mexican men, and helping out with troubleshooting and basic repairs, and making conversation in broken English, bad Spanish and sign language.
We plan a long sail of about 40 miles tomorrow to another San Juanico. We have been told by all the gringo cruisers that this bay is “the jewel” and we plan to spend a good number of days there. We are enjoying the quiet and each other’s company, and spend our evenings watching the sun set, drinking tea and watching the odd movie.
I woke up the other night with a very sore eye, and have been treating it with eye drops. I think I had something under a contact lens that irritated the cornea, so I have been wearing my glasses for the last couple of days. After the liberation of contact lenses that I could sleep in, I find this tough. My eyes are also very sensitive to the brilliant sunlight, and I have no sunglasses for my spectacles so I am grateful for the brim of my pink ball cap. Hence the pictures of Lark in glasses!
I always find it fascinating to walk amongst the remnants of things that are gone, and imagine them as they may have been. That lost archeologist in me I guess. Lyle loved to look at the old machinery, and electrical boxes, and found old bottles, batteries and insulators. We even found dated paperwork from the mine.
Today was a great day.
A large bay on the East side of Isla Carmen – Bahia Salinas- was where we anchored on Sunday and Monday night. Remnants of a shipwreck are visible in the middle of the bay, and the gulls and pelicans perch on the skeletal frame barely visible above the water’s surface.
The weather has been calm and seas are peaceful. We managed to sail with the genoa for a short time yesterday as we skirted kayakers and made our way across the strait from Puerto Escondido to Isla Carmen.
We went ashore on Monday to the little settlement that at one time was a thriving salt operation. There was a white fine sand beach, and a few new buildings scattered among the ruins of the old. We met Francisco – the caretaker who apparently lives here and guides sheep hunters in the hills of the island. Their trophies are similar to our Rocky Mountain Sheep with large curled racks. The sign on the island warns that hikers must have permission and that the area is a marine and wildlife reserve, but apparently that is not entirely the case.
The pueblo was a fascinating juxtaposition of ruins of an abandoned boom town, complete with the equipment and rail lines of the salt operation, and the new thatched roof haciendas built to accommodate the big game hunters. I was reminded of Red Rose Mines, abandoned above New Hazelton. It just looked like everyone left one day and forgot to turn out the lights. That impression was accentuated by the crows and vultures, sitting in the old power lines and on torn pieces of sheet metal, watching us as we moved among the lonely landscape. Above it all, a bright golden sun and a vivid blue sky washed the abandoned white walls of the village with light.
The construction was all concrete, and rock and a tabby which appears to have been made with coral; so the crumbling walls are reminiscent of what I imagine Greek or Roman ruins to be. I thought often of the rock walls we had seen in Uxmal and Chitzen Itza on the other side of the country.
When we landed on the beach we were greeted by a friendly dog, named Carmonella, and he acted as our tour guide throughout our walk. He took a liking to Lyle and stayed close by him, only dashing away, in a frenzy, every now and then to chase an indigenous hare. He could run like the wind, but not as fast as the rabbits! Consequently many of our pictures include snaps of the dog.
It was a photographer’s paradise, with glassless windows framing pristine seascapes, and the textures and colors of the decaying walls. The peeling paint of the signs, the rusting machinery and the faded tiles amongst the cacti and palmettos; and behind it all the huge salt flats from the salt mining operation. I wished that I had the ability to snap in black and white….I think they would have been very interesting pictures.
I walked out to the salt ponds that we had previously seen from a distance with Ron and Monica as we hiked across the ridge from Ballandra Bay. They were remarkably like an arctic landscape, and the crystallized salt looked just like snow. I was able to find a beautiful salt crystal and I tucked it in my pocket. As I walked back towards the sea and the abandoned pueblo I thought of “Silverado” – that little settlement against the vast landscape of desert and sky.
We have been alone in the anchorage, but Lyle rowed the dinghy back to shore to bring Francisco some cerveza that he had asked for. When he got there he helped Francisco and two other men, get a Dodge Ram truck started. They seemed concerned that they had a group of hunters coming, and were dependant on the vehicle to take their guests into the mountains. Lyle enjoyed being with the Mexican men, and helping out with troubleshooting and basic repairs, and making conversation in broken English, bad Spanish and sign language.
We plan a long sail of about 40 miles tomorrow to another San Juanico. We have been told by all the gringo cruisers that this bay is “the jewel” and we plan to spend a good number of days there. We are enjoying the quiet and each other’s company, and spend our evenings watching the sun set, drinking tea and watching the odd movie.
I woke up the other night with a very sore eye, and have been treating it with eye drops. I think I had something under a contact lens that irritated the cornea, so I have been wearing my glasses for the last couple of days. After the liberation of contact lenses that I could sleep in, I find this tough. My eyes are also very sensitive to the brilliant sunlight, and I have no sunglasses for my spectacles so I am grateful for the brim of my pink ball cap. Hence the pictures of Lark in glasses!
I always find it fascinating to walk amongst the remnants of things that are gone, and imagine them as they may have been. That lost archeologist in me I guess. Lyle loved to look at the old machinery, and electrical boxes, and found old bottles, batteries and insulators. We even found dated paperwork from the mine.
Today was a great day.