As the sun neared the horizon, an unexpected greeting party came aboard in large numbers. These were some of the areas less desirable residents – jejenes (hey-hey-nays in
in the Mexico ). The tiny pairs of flying teeth were quite
aggressive. While Trisha stayed below
preparing dinner, I was getting bites in the cockpit. Seemed more annoying than anything, we didn’t
think much of it. USA
|Jejene AKA no-see-um|
The next morning we made the twenty-two mile hop south to Chacala. Upon arrival, we experienced the first significant failure of our trusty
|Interabang anchored in Chacala|
Chacala was a lovely little village with a great beach and one cobblestone street about three blocks long. We explored both extensively. The scenery was fabulous, but over a couple of days we had pretty much seen it all. After a couple of rolly nights at anchor, we decided that it was time to make the passage to La Cruz.
The fishing education continues. Soon after leaving Chacala we landed a good sized fish with the cedar plug. Once pulled aboard it began thrashing violently. I pinned it to the floor of the cockpit with both feet letting it bleed out without making a big mess. Trisha went below to get the fish book. It had the shape of a tuna with a black tail fin. The spotted belly clearly identified it as a skipjack. We remembered someone saying “don’t believe what they say, skip jack is OK to eat.” “OK to eat,” not exactly a ringing endorsement. The fish book described the edibility as ‘good.’ We put the fillets in the fridge and hoped for the best.
|Derrick with his first Skipjack Tuna|