Waiting with everyone else to cross the border at Nogales. Luckily we got two green lights at Customs, avoiding having to unpack the entire truck for inspection. We were only stopped twice on the road, once for a small bribe in the middle of the night (he asked for coffee and we gave him 20 pesos = $2.50) and once for a ten minute drug and weapon search by the Army.

From Tucson Marty drove 26 hours, with a four hour brake when I took over from 3:30 am to 7:30am. Yes, we drove in Mexico at night, but only on the Pan American toll road, which ends in Mazatlan. We spent over $100 in tolls to drive the four lane Pan Am and avoid the two-lane roads of terror. South of Mazatlan, we took just that - Mex200 which hugs the Pacific Coast. I wish I had serious a sedative for this narrow, shoulderless road, surrounded by thick jungle and loaded with "Curva Peligrosa" signs and drivers who line up as a group, to pass on hills and around blind curves. Drivers in Mexico are so crazy, Marty saved us twice on the Pan American when Rover was almost run off the road at 75 miles an hour. We passed four accidents, at least one with a fatality, during the 30 hour, 2500 km drive.

The great news is; we made it to Tenacatita in time to spend Christmas with my parents. My Mother was so shocked when we pulled up in the dinghy that she didn't even recognize us, nor the Metezler dinghy that they gave us for our trip. We found them nestled at Jungle Joe Park in Blue Bay, just two bays South of Tenacatita. Jungle Joe Park is a small beach only accessible by dinghy that has been adopted by the cruisers. The beach is named after Jungle Joe, a stuffed Teddy bear wearing a back pack, that always seems to drink the last beer, or at least is always blamed.

The beach is surrounded by serious jungle filled with long vines from yellow spotted trees, dangerous spiders that spin webs between the vines, tons of mosquitos and one dirt road that lead right to Tenacatita with free beach front camping. After every evening spent with my parents aboard their Islander 36', we would catch a dinghy ride to Jungle Joe Park, cover ourselves in bug repellent, done our tennis shoes to protect from scorpions and hike a half mile through the bush to Rover (N 19°17.901 W104°50.590), who would be faithfully waiting in the dark. After removing Rover's security bars, we would fill the dark with all six of our IPF head lights, and four-wheel back to Tenacatita to camp for the night. This was terrain none of us had experienced before.

We don't plan on driving at night anymore, so we need to find places to stay along the way. Marty picked La Ticla and Rio Nexpa (N 18°05.168' W102°47.442') as two possible rest stops on our way South. As there was no sign for La Ticla, we passed it right by. Nexpa's signs are also gone, thanks to the local surfers, but we asked for directions at the next town and found the way. With just a few palapa bungalows, three restaurants, one mercado, no vendors and a beautiful beach at the foot of rolling hills, it's no wonder surfers want to keep this place a secret. They say it's already doubled in size over the past two years. This time of year is full of both locals on holiday and many young travelers from New Zealand, Australia and Europe.

Unfortunately there was no swell and just a few mushy waves, so Marty kept busy by patching our dinghy and trying to fish in the sea and the river.

We brought in the new year with a group of surfers, who played drums around a big bon fire. It was a good time, but that day was depressing, as we had been called to help find a drown man that afternoon. We were fishing, and heard calls for help. Marty immediately jumped in the merky waters while I ran for our snorkle masks and surf boards. A group of three friends had been swimming and watching birds and a 24 year old man was missing. The four of us searched frantically for at least 25 minutes, while at least 15 locals just stood on the beach watching and pointing. I think they were afraid of the lagoon. As soon as more help arrived, a woman found him. Unfortunately, a local doctor who was at the beach was unable to revive him. It reminds me how short life can be, and how thankful we are taking this trip.