I emerged from the clear water off Isla de Ixtapa where I had discovered diverse, colorful sea life surprisingly close to shore. Hector the Protector asked what kind of beer I wanted. “Dos Equis,” I said, feeling like the Most Interesting Man in the World.
“You don't even like Dos Equis,” Julie reminded me. It is true that the last two times I had ordered Dos Equis on a beach in Mexico it tasted like swill. In fact, Mike and Chris Rood had even found some Dos Equis undrinkable at a deluxe resort near Costa Maya while I was simultaneously disgusted by Dos Equis in nearby Mahahual during a New Year's cruise three years ago, and those guys are experts on beer. Still, I remember drinking Dos Equis in California when it tasted pretty good, so maybe it was just the Dos Equis in Mexico, where perhaps some bootlegger was re-filling Dos Equis bottles with swill. Nonetheless, unless my geography is completely askew, Isla Ixtapa is in Mexico, albeit the West Coast side far from the Caribbean ports of Mahahual and Cozumel, where Dos Equis left a bad taste in my mouth.
“Make that Corona,” I said, opting for my second favorite Mexican beer commercial.
After all, looking out at the gentle surf along the white sand beach looked very much like those Corona commercials that trigger millions of dreams of the kicked-back beach life. When Hector brought me an iced bucket of Coronas accompanied by a bowl of limes and a pile of rock salt, I resisted the urge to skim my cell phone across the water.
Choosing Isla Ixtapa for the day proved to be wise, although I might have felt the same about some other choice, since there are several nice beaches in the area. We were delighted by the beautiful harbor of Zihuatenejo that welcomed our cruise ship to the tranquil blue waters. Palapa roofed homes perched on hillsides promised an idyllic life for harried Americans who chose to drop off the grid.
Upon taking the first tender of the day to shore, we found a somewhat typical port town vying for tourist dollars. We negotiated a twenty dollar taxi ride to the ferry pier in Ixtapa. Our driver raced like a bat out of hell, passing cars that seemed to be going about half his speed and scattering pedestrians in a cross walk with his horn to avoid slowing down.
When we pulled up to the pier after what would have been a record-breaking Grand Prix drive, he flagged down Hector the Protector, making a hand motion to indicate we had money (or maybe that he expected money for delivering us to Hector). Our driver asked what time we wanted to return and said he would come back for us.
Julie had read online that these island guides provided no valuable service and expected undeserved tips, but Hector proved to be quite helpful. He secured a small boat for us at the rate of 35 pesos per person, and we were off across the channel with zero wasted time or effort. We told Hector we wanted to snorkel, and he led us down the sand past lots of umbrellas and lounge chairs before cutting across to the other side of the island.
He rearranged the furniture to give us the shade of some umbrellas for our two lounge chairs as well as a dining table and chairs. He was a little disappointed when we ordered a couple of Coca Cola Lights rather than cervezas and breakfast on this early morning, but he cheerfully returned with our drinks.
Getting to Isla Ixtapa early gave us the snorkel side for ourselves. I pulled on my rash guard, which keeps me warm and also provides an SPF of 50 for my back while snorkeling beneath the bright sun. At first, it seemed a bit cloudy, and despite the fact that Hector had pointed to a coral reef directly off shore, I swam far out and toward rock outcroppings to the right, which in most places would be where I would find the fish. I was somewhat disappointed until I came back to exactly where Hector had said to go, and I started seeing more fish. Julie took her turn, and following Hector's sage advice, she came back thrilled with the variety.
After a couple of more expeditions, we were both extremely happy with the sea life of Isla Ixtapa and the visibility that improved dramatically from my first swim, which is when my beer commercial started. Before I could say I only wanted one beer, Hector said to drink as many as I wanted, and he would only charge me for those. By the end of the day, the bucket contained only empty bottles and melted ice.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, more people arrived, and alternating snorkeling the warm water with reading in our lounge chairs, we enjoyed our terrific morning. When I came back from another undersea adventure, I asked Julie if she was ready for lunch, and she said Hector had just said he would be back with a lunch menu.
Hector walked back carrying a large platter on which there were two enormous lobsters, a half dozen large shrimp, a parrot fish that out of the water had none of the bright colors displayed under the sea and another big fish, everything freshly caught that morning. We again disappointed Hector by not ordering from his “menu.” Julie went for chips and salsa, and I ordered fish tacos.
When the order came, it was humongous. There was enough for a family of four, with probably a pound and a half of guacamole, two feet squre filled with chips, salsa and cheese, and three giant empanadas made with deep-fried fresh dough wrapped around deliciously seasoned fresh fish. Even though we normally eat everything on our plates, this plate was too big even for us, despite the fact that everything tasted great.
When the bill came, we knew Hector the Protector might have padded the bill a bit to cover his service, but how could we complain about a really perfect day? I paid the sixty dollars and gave Hector a big tip on top. Considering that covered the chairs, drinks, food and guidance, I was happy.
Hector wasn't done yet. He actually walked with us to the boat to be sure they knew we had paid for roundtrip, and then he rode with us all the way back to the mainland where he turned us over to our taxi driver, who was waiting for us as promised.
Hector said that he wanted to be sure nothing happened on our way back that damaged our impression of the day. “That's why they call me Hector the Protector.”
Our driver, no longer racing to get back for another fare, was smiling, relaxed and loquacious on our drive back to Zihuatanejo. He lamented that the cruise season was nearly over, and when I mentioned that I wish cruises visited Ixtapa instead of Mazatlan year-round, his ears perked up. He began thinking out loud about the idea of leaving this paradise in pursuit of the tourist dollars to the north.
It was a reminder that our tourist dollars help real working people all over the world. “Stay thirsty, my friends.”
