State Governor Beltran awards the PHRF Fleet trophy to Chris Lewis.
The decanter is soon put to good use for the remainder of the party.
Thursday night the Club de Yates de Veracruz threw a party for the sailors with free beer and fresh Tacos al Pastor by a true master of the art. On Friday, the City officials held a celebration at City Hall complete with folkloric (Jarocho) dancers. They also expressed their sympathies over the loss of the Cynthia Woods and Roger Stone and invoked a minute of silence. Saturday's awards banquet at the Naval Officer's Club was attended by the Governor of the State of Veracruz, who promised a new marina would be open to greet the participants of the 2010 event. There was a short Memorial to Roger and a prayer led by Roy Newberry Sr. The sailors all signed a guestbook with their comments, which we presented to Linda Stone on our return to Texas.
The line to sign Roger's memorial book goes out the door
The Lost Boys A key element of the RC functions in Veracruz is the Docking Committee. Boats come in at all hours. Most are a bit frazzled after 4-5 days at sea, as you might imagine. After not seeing land for days, they have negotiated a dangerous series of offshore reefs, crossed the finish line and are now faced with a difficult Med-Mooring maneuver in the busiest Mexican port in the Gulf of Mexico.
Beside the RC volunteers that help facilitate the docking process, there are a number of locals that show up to help and do odd jobs for tips. Some have worked previous regattas. Most of the entry level comes from the young boys that hang out on the Malecon and dive for money. Mexican tourists will throw a coin off the dock and they will go for it like a redfish hitting a gold spoon. You see the glittering coin sinking and the kid will dive in and snap it up before it can reach the 20-foot bottom every time. They don't know a lot about yacht racing, but they will figure out how to get what you need and they are down for whatever. Yell out "Hielo!" and they will be back with a bag of ice faster than you can say "Mount Gay and Coke". They are quite intuitive and just by picking up key English words they will overcome your lack of Spanish and go to work. The two journeymen were both named Jesus. Some of the skippers may not know that 3-4 of these guys stayed on the Malecon every night watching the boats. More than once, one of them dove in the middle of the night to repair a parted line. They became an unofficial part of the Race Committee, constantly checking the moored yachts while crews were sleeping or hanging out in the town square. After we got the first boat settled, I asked one of the younger ones about whether he should be in school now and they all laughed. I began to refer to them as the Lost Boys.
"Please remain seated until the vessel comes to a complete stop and the
Lost Boys have secured your boarding ladder."
At around 0600 Wednesday morning, after seeing yet another crazy double-granny half-fast hitch taken around a bollard, I decided it was time to take the Lost Boys to school. I motioned for everybody to huddle-up. After making the international sign of the bunny ears, I took some line and began to tell the old story of the conejo (rabbit). que sube del hoyo (hole), da la vuelta del arbol (tree) and goes back down the hole. The youngest of the group nailed it on the first go and never forgot. Others took a few tries, but most eventually got it. Perhaps the young mind is more supple and open to suggestion than its older counterpart. Maybe he just had a lot of experience with rabbits. I'm sure a more modern, adult analogy could be used that was more meaningful to those who had begun to "salir con chicas". Such a knot-tying learning aid may have already been invented in Veracruz since we've left. Someone told me the next day that they saw Sanchito and another of the younger ones practicing. Completing the knot, he gave a knowing nod to his friend and said "bunny".
Zen Bowline - Quick like Bunny, Strong like Tree.
After a couple of days and nights of getting 2-3 hours sleep, the catch phrase became "What I did on My Summer Vacation". Mildly sarcastic but no one on our team would trade these memories for anything. Thursday around 0130, after getting La Isla secured to the Malecon, it started to rain. We ran to take cover under one of the Sol beer tents only to find the Lost Boys already there. They have an uncanny ability to predict rain and had left the La Isla scene about two minutes before we did. Actually, it is the local city cops that are the "canary in the coal mine". They are in their vehicles before you can decide if that drop you noticed on your arm is sweat or rain. Nobody's going to get the shakedown for their tip money tonight. Not in this rain. Soon after, the bottom dropped out. Gusts came from every direction with lightning that caused Mexicano and Gringo RC alike to exclaim "Aye, Dios!" The Sol tent began to sag in places, and had to be relieved with a long stick to avoid catastrophic rupture. As lightning struck the Pemex building next to us and the streets flooded, we listened to MP3's on Jesus-1's cell phone and traded "dichos" (sayings) that we thought applied to our situation and to life in general. I tried to translate things like "safety in numbers" and they seemed to get it. Jesus-2 told me a saying his grandmother had about how a little piece of cheese didn't last as long as a big piece of cheese. Rhyme and rhythm are often lost in the translation of these sayings, but I understood. I like a good cheese as much as the next guy.
We gave them all regatta t-shirts and advised them to tell everyone that they were on official business from the Race Committee so that they wouldn't get hassled by the Man. They'll be there to catch your dock lines in 2010 and will secure them with a "bunny knot".
"Look at those snappers, Ralph!" There are many opportunities for side-trips around the port. Don't just let the days go by, idling away your time in the town square with its Spanish colonial architecture and caf� culture reminiscent of pre-Castro Cuba. It's all too easy to start your day with a double "Lechero" and "Huevos Motelenos" in the morning, moving on to beer, guacamole and seafood cocktails after that, only to start-up with the Cuba Libres and slices of whole hog "Pierna" au jus with fresh bolillos in the early evening. Too much caffeine could leave you vulnerable to a 2 AM taco attack. Up until 4-5 in the morning at La Parilla Veracruzana, mesmerized by the spinning Trompos del Pastor and nine kinds of salsas, it's hard to make that early morning excursion bus. Even if you do fall into this tasty trap on occasion, remember to make room for the next bolobanes vendor you see. You'll find them on busy corners, especially in the morning. It's a pastry somewhere between strudel and croissant. A flakier, bigger, Mexican answer to the hot pocket, filled with savory items like hamon y queso or sweet mango. They are 70 cents each if you're sober and can count.
100 years before Starbucks, the Lechero was making a better latte.
Veracruz the State is at least as diverse as Texas. We have mountains, but folks, we ain't got North America's highest volcano. Take a trip up in the hills to the coffee country, where it's 20 degrees cooler, for espresso and coffee ice cream. Visit Santa Ana's house and other historical sights, go river rafting and much more. A nice break from the heat and humidity of the coast. See the state capital Xalapa, the "City of Flowers", in the rainforests of Veracruz and its botanical garden. A lot of people choose a trip there. I'm definitely taking one of those trips next time. An old town inland yields great markets and traditional houses and churches, each one an intricately painted pastel-hued Easter egg arranged with care in the basket of Mr. Bunny himself. OK, well, I heard the ladies liked it. Various time constraints have conspired to keep me from such trips thus far. Race Committee duty is a cruel mistress sometimes. I also like to eat tacos and shrimp cocktails while drinking rum, so it's not like I have the full 24 hours of every day at my disposal for ancillary activities.
La Parrilla Veracruzana never closes. Meat is continually added to the
top of the Trompo in a Solera system of Pastor goodness.
Living la Villa Rica. Clockwise from top: Sea Bass Seven Seas, Orange
Glazed Shrimp Steak, Snapper Veracruz, Salt Crust Grilled Pompano.
The good news is that you don't have to travel far for a dose of culture. There are attractions close by that warrant your attention. I heard there was an awesome nautical history museum at the port. They say it's best to go there first before you go to San Juan de Ulua. San Juan de Ulua is right across the harbor from the Malecon. This formidable structure was started by the Spanish in the 1500's. The Cartegena scenes of the fort in "Romancing the Stone" were filmed here. "Look at those snappers, Ralph!" I can't wait for 2010. I'm going to tour it then for sure.
San Juan de Ulua. 500 undefeated years of defending Puerto Veracruz.
One must-see I never miss is Vinos Polo Hoyos. Maybe must-see is a little strong. Must-go-there with a wad of pesos in your pocket? Yes. It's a busy Bodega de Licores that supplies both the wholesale/retail trade and the recreational user alike. Whatever international spirit you need is there, but the real attraction for me is the rum. Cuban varieties you won't typically find anywhere else and many other delicacies. They make their own rum there that is only available in Veracruz as well as some Habanero styles and some other tasty stuff that I still don't fully understand. "Puedo probarlo?" "Can I try it?" That and a smile will bring out the stack of Nyquil cups and it's off to the races. Try not to step off into the grate on the corner on your way out. "Oh! Did you see that Ralph, that ugly, striped son-of-a-bitch down there!" "Look at those snappers."
Off to see the Lizardo Sunday afternoon, with all the boats off, it was time for an excursion of our own. We heard about a small town to the south called Mandinga; a fishing village on a lagoon that was a good place to hang out. We headed off in that direction, but I had read of a small beach town a little further south called Anton Lizardo. I asked the cab driver about it as we headed south. He said it was a great place, better than Mandinga and muy tranquilo. It was only diez minutos mas to go there. The two measures of time are diez minutos (sometime today) and ma�ana (some future day). I decided to divert the caravan to what our driver called in the local dialect something very close to "Tony Lizard's".
Driving into town, the first thing you notice are the oyster bars. Not the big white shrimp boat looking place with the neon lights off the freeway exit back home. Nope, it's a small folding table with a pile of the day's catch on it, right out front next to the dusty Main Street traffic. I thought, well, a big wet pile of oysters with some seaweed mixed in would basically stay at dew point, which is presumably the temperature at which they must live in their natural environment. I didn't say this to the other passengers. I was already detecting the stink-eye and I didn't want to make eye contact with it. As the driver hung a left towards the beach, I hoped there would be a Carlos and Charlie's down there waiting to give everyone a calming tequila slammer. It was not thus.
We weren't about to cut and run, though. People needed to pee after the longer than planned, kidney-jarring ride. We needed to at least have a beer and talk it over. This place will test the limits of the average gabacho's comfort zone, but give it some time. A few beers with your toes in the sand and you'll warm-up to it.
The local nut guy always seems to show up right after the beer guy.
In a place like this, beach vendors still abound, but in the absence of gringo tourists, the list of impulse buys is pared-down to more useful stuff. Chief of these are food items, like the nut vendor. You know these guys already if you've been hanging-out around the square. Peanuts, pistachios, pepitos, sunflower seeds and more, with whatever combination of wet or dry chilis and limon you care to sprinkle on them. $2.00 for the small plate. $3.00 for el grande. Restaurant owners don't mind a bit if you are sitting at their table, drinking their beer and eating someone else's nuts, or whatever street snack happens by. Girls come by with trays of dessert items including dulce de leche, various cookies and a coconut concoction that looks a lot like a Hostess Snowball.
At Tony Lizard's there is a class of vendors I have never seen. Families in small trucks with old-school loudspeaker horns atop the cabin drove slowly down the beach announcing their cargo. Sort of like the ice cream man for adults drinking beer. "Los mas ricos tamales de pollo en todo el mundo. Hecho en casa y bien calientitos!." The tastiest chicken tamales in the world! Home-made and hot! Later, it's pork tamales, wrapped in banana leaves and tied with a thread of Easter basket grass and again, they are the world's finest, according to the vendor's loudspeaker. It goes on all day. I bought a heavy sack of the pork tamales for about $5.00. It wasn't Berryhill. They were bigger, with more masa. The first thing you notice is that the pork inside had all the bones. This is totally foreign to those of us that are used to eating a tamale in 2-3 bites, but the whole chunks of pork infuse the masa with a richer flavor than our gringo tamales. It's the difference between McDonalds and the hamburgers your grandmother made, with the buns toasted on the griddle in the leftover burger drippings.
A thing the size of a small casa came down the shore with every type of accessory and clothing to be found in a typical US beach town store. When the breeze hit from the right direction, you could just barely see, through the floaties, boogie boards, t-shirts and sun dresses, the guy inside pedaling this contraption along. I think he had Crocs in there.
Mobile Beach Super-Store rolls by soccer match at "Tony Lizard's".
The beach is lined with palapas, each captive to a small restaurant/hotel across the street. Each has their own sound system and you still have the option of strolling Jarocho combos with guitar and harp. One of the palapas began playing the Enur's Calabria. Convergence in Mexico means that wherever you go, you will hear the latest tunes, even if the power comes from someone's battery bank or a small generator. Tragically, singer Natasja died in a car accident last June just as she was about to get her big break from major Jamaican production teams. Another case of someone gone well before their time. Check out the video at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WL1hlzLsUaU Guys, you can thank me later. WhoopWhoop!
0430 came early on Monday as it was time to catch the shuttle to the airport and the flight to Houston. Back once again to the land of orderly lines, properly stamped forms, political correctness and factory food. The sun was coming up as we circled over Veracruz and got our last glimpse of the port.
I missed my Amigos already.
What's Next?
In 2010, several Latin centennials come into alignment for some big fiestas. In June, Veracruz will serve as the finish line for another ocean race besides the Regata de Amigos. A fleet of Tall Ships that plan to race around South America will arrive there as well. For more details see:
http://www.velasudamerica2010.com/en/regatayruta.php The Governor of the State of Veracruz wants the arrival of our racers to be the kick-off for this huge event and we will be sure to oblige him. Start making your plans for Regata de Amigos XXII now.
Even though Regatta de Amigos and the Cynthia Woods tragedy was over a month ago, this is the first time we have had a chance to extend our condolences to Linda Stone and her children in this publication. Thanks to the many GBCA members who expressed themselves on the Regatta de Amigos website and our discussion board. I especially want to thank Kevin Box for his eloquence in remembering Roger. And thanks to all who supported the Rum Race immediately following the incident and the support in the shirt sales, the proceeds of which will go to the Stone children.
GBCA's TEXAS RACE WEEK Returns to Galveston
FOLLOW CHARLIE OGLETREE and JOHNNY LOVELL IN BEIJING! 
BLUE LADY 
