The best laid plans...

I finished up my last post with the simple statement that all I have to do is jump in the Westy and drive back to San Carlos, a mere 1,000 miles away. The Westy had other ideas.

I drove to Barra in a $12,000 Westy Camper...

I made the drive from Barra to Banderas Bay without incident. Flashed my dock access card at the guard at Marina Riviera Nayarit in La Cruz, and drove into the parking lot for the Yacht Club/Harbormasters office. I popped the camper top up and spent the night after a nice hot shower and some tacos on the square. The Octopus' Garden was locked up, being Sunday night.

The next morning, I drove to the above-named establishment for my morning espresso and 4 kilos of French Roast beans. Talked with the owners about their plans for the next cruising season... (they're building a spring-loaded Salsa dance floor) and would be willing to help me hook-up with other jazz musicians next time I come through...

Then off I went, next stop, Mazatlan... but no.

About 30 miles out of the Banderas Bay area, I saw a large plume of blue smoke exit the van with a loud-sounding pop. I pulled over and looked in the engine compartment and saw nothing wrong. A Backfire, I thought. After a few more miles, I hear a rattling sound and check again to find oil dripping slowly from underneath the car. So, I stopped at a hardware store and bought 4 quarts of 40 weight oil. 50 pesos each.

I make it a point to stop every 20 miles to check on the oil level and add oil if I need it (it always needs it)... After a while I decide to go to San Blas, where there's a gas station and RV parking.

The RV park is located near the mouth of the estuary, 5 acres of neatly groomed lawn and palm trees, run by Irma. She's a Mexican woman about 55 years old and speaks very passable English. For 150 pesos a night I get my pick of camping spots, showers, etc. and wifi. I never could get the wifi to work. but because of the limited space in the van, I didn't bother to pursue an internet connection.

My examination of the car and suspected drip region, along with the big, green shop manual indicates a blown gasket on the oil pump. I have to remove the muffler, the "engine carrier," and the motor mounts. to get to the oil pump.

Working for two days, sunup to sundown, I remove the stuff, replace the gasket with some liquid stuff and put it all back together. (San Blas is known for its bugs and crocodiles, so I burn a lot of coils, and smear on a lot of Autan™ insect repellent and when I'm lying under the vehicle, just put up with a lot of ants. I take 2 showers a day or more. On day three, I pack up and drive out. The van sounds and drives great! Plenty of power. But as I climb the mountains from San Blas to Mazatlan, the heat builds up in the motor and I have to stop and add oil. I find that if I drive for 20 seconds, coast for 20 seconds and add oil every 20 miles, I can average about 20 mph. Maybe 25. By the time I reach Acaponeta, halfway to Maz, I'm out of oil and it's midnight. I pull into the gas station there, go get some fish tacos and lemonade, amd get some sleep.

The next morning, at the urging of the 1st Mate, I walk across the road to the tow truck place and get a bid of 2,700 pesos to haul the van to Mazatlan. The 1st Mate has been in touch with Nancy and Paul, fellow bloggers and good friends. They'll put me up for a night and get me on a bus if I so desire. I do.

So, the next 3 hours are spent hauling the VW to Mazatlan, and parking the van on the street near their house. I get a shower and a long nap in their beautiful home, Paul and I go out looking for the Tufesa bus terminal and we all go out for a very good pizza. I really love their neighborhood. It reminds me of my 20s, when I lived in the renovated area of Capitol Hill, in DC.( Roberta Flack played piano and sang at my local bar, Mr. Henry's, three blocks from my apartment. Beer was a buck and a half.)

and came back in a $120,000 Tufesa bus! Progress!

The next day, I'm up early, and start organizing my stuff for the bus. Paul and I go to the Tufesa just in time to catch the noon bus. Twelve hours later, my own dogs are barking at me as I pay off the taxi. It's so good to be home.