Our voyage from Mazatlan took us from Isla Isabela, 90 miles south, and then turned southeast following the curvature of mainland Mexico. The weather was generally calm and even traveling downwind we were only able to sail about 2-1/2 hours before the wind dropped below 7 knots and the Fox’s sails could not stay filled. In a day’s trip from Isla Isabela – after sailing and motorsailing – we anchored in the shallow* Bahia de Matanchen. We enjoyed it so much we stayed five days (the first time), periodically going ashore by dinghy. Once we were able to tear ourselves away from the fine cooking of Ismael and his family at Ramada Matanchenon the beach (grilled parrotfish, anyone?), we took a short taxi ride over to San Blas town
and their new(er) church(es) for a look around before walking back out of town and climbing a nearby hill 
to examine San Blas’s ruined 
church 
and the old fort buildings overlooking the San Blas estuary and jungle. 
GB sure enjoys military history, and his general knowledge of the fort’s time period made the climb worthwhile.** 
Even if it seemed that the big gold head of Benito Juarez was kinda out of place up there.
Another day found us taking the famed "jungle boat ride" up the estuary from Matanchen by panga. Technically it’s possible to drive your own dinghy up the estuary and just follow your nose around all the twists and turns, but there are a lot of snags and deadheads just under the water (no, I’m not talking about Jerry Garcia fans), visibility is poor because it’s a flat estuary with few landmarks on shore,…and there’s that pesky potential problem of encountering some of the estuary’s larger residents in a soft, chewy dinghy driven by our soft,
chewy selves. You see, this estuary trip ends at the local crocodile farm where salt water crocs are bred in captivity and then released to the selfsame estuary. The half-day trip (via nice, fast, fiberglas panga) is great fun – I added a few new bird species to my life list (like this anhinga
and 
limpkin) and saw all kinds of reptilian faces along the water’s edge – the boa constrictors weren’t much for having their picture taken, but check out these turtles. 
And here’s a shot of a fairly small, young croc getting some sun on a handy log – he’s almost 6 feet long including the tail:
I love me some critters, and that’s a fact. Even if some of them are 14 feet long, like the female croc we saw at the water’s edge in a shady grotto she’d made for herself. [Memo to self: when traveling in salt water jungle estuaries and spying a nice, flat, dry, leafy spot on shore that looks like a cushy place to beach the dinghy, remember a large crocodile has probably already called dibs on it.] No; I did not get a picture of her, but here’s a picture of Felipe, who’s somewhat larger.
He’s one of the…ahem, stud crocs at the farm. We were told that your average well-fed croc is a pretty inert animal – and by that standard Felipe here seems to be very content. I couldn’t help but wonder, though: wouldn’t a hungry croc just stay still like a well-fed one does, and then nab you with one quick lunge when you bumbled too close?
Here’s a shot of a coati (I think) who was running loose at the croc farm, digging for insects, lizards, snails or whatever. And who among us can resist such subterranean cuisine?
Bottom line: Bahia de Matanchen deserves its reputation as a destination for both cruisers and land travelers – there’s a lot to see that’s very different from practically everywhere else. And everyone you meet, from the state police officers making their rounds, to the guys grilling fish at their beachside restaurants, are generous and kind to goofy gringos like us. Almost everyone takes the time and has the inclination to get to know the visitors to their town and make us all feel welcome. That’s an example we should all follow.
* for sailors from the Pacific Northwest. Northwest sailors break a sweat if the depth sounder shows less than 200 feet under the keel. The typical Mexican anchorage’s 15-to-20-foot depths still gives us the yips. Whew.
** It’s surprising how quickly one becomes un-used to cardiovascular activity and using one’s legs when spending a lot of time on a boat. Huffing and puffing was involved, you betcha.
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