April 03 Sunday — Carmen Island to Puerto Escondido
The broken engine mount was still in the forefront of our minds as we up-anchored and headed out and south for Puerto Escondido, where Donn would catch a ride to the airport.
This was our second visit and since we were marooned there for a couple of days of repair, we had a good look under the surface of Puerto Escondido.
When you enter the outer harbor you see a highly developed pier — of the sort appropriate for a freighter or a cruise line. It has the pier infrastructure of an industrial port. With a large section on industrial-strength pier you would expect of a fuel depot or a freighter dock.
On shore is a post-modern sleak chrome building that would look more appropriate in Washington, D.C. It faces the northern prevailing winds, rendering the large front patio useless most of the year. But it is completely empty of any form of commerce… a ghost town of sorts — except for the expan yatistas who reside here by claim for months or years at a time.
And roads to nowhere everywhere. Once on adjacent shore property you can see new streets cris-crossing the sand as you would expect in a planned community. But there are no houses; there is no community. and e very where you look at something unfinished. It looks so un-Mexican and most everything with the exception of the CIA building has the look of unfinished.
No one seems to be able to give me an accurate account of how this came to be, (possibly because it is a national embarrassment) but more than 10 years ago the Mexican government concocted a grand scheme for several of these cruiser facilities to promote tourism..
Corruption played its role also. This is hearsay but the story goes that five trucks of cement were stolen so work continued by simply diluting the cement mixture with more sand. In the story also is something about using salt water in the cement when fresh water became scarce. All this adds up to what is today a lot of cracked cement along the pier. When the project ran out of money it was stopped.
Everywhere you look it simply doesn’t fit. — frozen in place today as a monument to Mexican bureaucracy. It would be a ghost town except a small community of boating expacs have have taken it over.