Just
south of the Tropic of Cancer, on the Pacific coast of
Mexico
is the state of Sinaloa whose main city is
Mazatlan
. The climate in this part of
Mexico
can best be described as ideal. The
winters are free of rain and feature sunshine and blue skies on a scale
seldom found on this planet. During the rainy season the showers seldom
last beyond
midday
. There is however the occasional hurricane
that sweeps up the coast but in this age of satellites everyone has
adequate warning. It was to this setting that my late wife Mona and I came
seeking a vacation from the busy world of international commerce in
Tokyo
where we had been working for the previous
year. We easily fell into the casual life style of the rather large
ex-patriot community.
We
became acquainted with two young men, Ricardo and Carlos Irvine who lived
with their mother in
Mazatlan
. As time passed we found that they were
sons of a now deceased member of the famous
California
family of the same name and had inherited.
from their father a charming, if somewhat run down, Hacienda with 40
hectares of land. It was known locally as La Limonera. because of the
extensive lime orchard associated with it. I was captivated with the
romance surrounding it and could not get it out of my mind. After
returning to
Tokyo
it remained stuck in my memory. We
returned to
Mazatlan
for one more vacation before fortune
smiled on me. It was 1970 when I received a telephone call from Ricardo
stating that he was coming to Japan with his Grandmother for the purpose
of visiting Expo 70 (the worlds fair in
Osaka
) and he would like to have a knowledgeable
guide who spoke the language and generally knew the ropes. Needless to say
I accepted the challenge. Finding hotel reservations was near impossible
on such short notice. So Mona booked us into a Zen Buddhist temple near
the fair. Our guests were enchanted by the charm of the place.
One
evening while we were setting around on our tatami mats sipping saki I
casually asked the question, “What plans do you have for your ranch?”
Ricardo thought for a moment and told me that they had no definite
plans. I said. “Well if you don’t mind, wait until I return to
Mexico
before you make up your mind.”
Some months later we struck a deal and Mona and I took a 5-year
lease on the Limonera
In the November,1963 edition National
Geographic did an article on the ranch and described our life there as
idyllic. I would not argue the point. I have always felt that every man
should have the opportunity to be a King for a part of his life and this
was surely as close as I could get during mine.
I started
renovation in 1971 and we moved in the following winter. There was no
electricity, water, or telephone. Well, actually there was water but it
was in a well that was about 30 feet in diameter and about 100 feet deep
with no cover. All sorts of critters were living in the water including
several turtles. I felt that certain measures should be taken before we
started using it. First I arranged for a large cover of concrete to be
cast. In the meanwhile I tried to pump it dry, a fools errand to say the
least. I soon found that I could pump enough water to flood the entire
ranch. Failing this we started coming up with ways to rid the well of wild
life. Finally struck on the fishing line hook and bait trick. This worked
well. I then went to
Mazatlan
and purchased a 100 lb bag of sodium
hypochlorite. I dumped half of this chemical into the well and reserved
the remaining portion to clean the storage tank that was used to provide
gravity fed water to the main house. The water was heavily chlorinated for
the better part of the following month. It was then checked by a reputable
laboratory and pronounced, drinkable.
One
of the young ladies who worked at the ranch unfortunately decided to wash
her hair during the first few weeks. The results were that her hair turned
a rather sickly green.
During
the winter months the hotels along
Sabalo
Beach
in
Mazatlan
became crowded with tourists who flew
south like migrating birds. The Hotel Playa de Mazatlan was the center of
social activities in those days and it was presided over by a charming old
gentleman by the name of U.S. George.
U.S.
was the owner and builder of the
“Playa”, and he lived in a luxurious penthouse apartment on the roof
of the hotel. It was here he held weekly cocktail parties during the
season; only selected hotel guests as well as some members of the
expatriate community were invited. I met such people as John Wayne and
Robert Mitchum at these parties. It was through these get together’s
that I became well know by the people who came year after year to the
Playa. Many of them later became regular guests at my Hacienda and it was
also there that I met the lovely lady that is my present wife. Her name is
Lenore. Lenore and her late husband Dr. Richard Bagley were members in
good standing of the expatriate community. They lived aboard their yacht
“Locura” in the harbor at
Mazatlan
. I was often invited on fishing
expeditions with them and fought many marlin and sailfish from the stern
of the Locura. Eventually much of the social whirl moved to the ranch and
in time the gatherings fell under the sponsorship of a Canadian travel
agency and became a source of income. By this time the staff of employees
had risen to six. They were under the competent direction of Alfredo
Villegas Sandoval. I found
Alfredo at the local middle school where he had just graduated as
Valedictorian. Together we raised beans, milo, watermelons and a large
vegetable garden. There was an ample supply of fruit and avocados
available from the orchards as well as bananas, pineapples, guyaba and
guava which all thrive at these latitudes. In addition to farming and
entertaining tourists Alfredo and I started a hunting guide service.
Combined, all of these activities began to put us on a sound financial
basis.
The
guide service came about as a result of the fact that the ranch bordered
on a large estuary called Laguna el Caimanero. This body of brackish water
was about 50 miles long and 5 miles wide but only about 3 inches deep. The
depth made it virtually unpenetrateable. Curiosity got the best of us so
we built an airboat to find out what was hidden in this gigantic swamp.
Our first exploratory trips made us realize that the estuary was a natural
wildlife preserve with thousands of waterfowl that came there during the
winter months. There were speckled belly geese from
Alaska
and about 12 species of migrating ducks
and one species of indigenous ducks locally called Pechieweeles. (formally
known as Fulvous tree ducks). The information was too good to keep so we
leaked it to the tourist hotels in
Mazatlan
. To make a long story short it was not
long before we had built 6 airboats and found ourselves host’s to a
constant stream of hunters. Merlin Olsen, Football player from The Los
Angeles Rams and William Wooster Haines, author of the book and TV series
Twelve O’clock High were among our better-known guests. We constructed
several duck blinds where we deposited our hunters at about
4AM
daily. We retrieved them and their game
and returned them to the ranch for a breakfast of roast duck by eleven.
For the hard-core bird hunters we also went
into the thorn bush for a strange and rare bird called the Chuckaucka. So
far as I know the coast of
Sinaloa
is the only place it can be found. It is about the size of a fighting cock
and lives in trees. The interesting part is the technique, which you must
use for hunting this bird. It has the strange habit of closing it’s eyes
and ears when it sings, so in order to get close enough for a good shot
you must make no movement or noise except while the bird is singing. The
hunter must freeze in whatever position he is in when the singing stops
and wait for the melody to start again before he can move. Needles to say
this can give rise to some amusing situations. We also hunted white
wing and morning doves in season.
During
one of our parties I was chatting with Paul Modlin, an accomplished artist
well known in southern
Arizona
, We were standing in the main room in the
ranch house. The room was about 100 feet long with 20 ft ceilings. At one
end there was a large fireplace and hanging over it was a map of the
United States
of about 100 sq ft. It had been part of
the original decorations that were there when I renovated the house so I
did not remove it. Paul looked at it and remarked, “That is about the
ugliest dam picture I have ever seen.” I replied,” Well, I don’t
know where I could find anything big enough to replace it.” “Ok, tell
you what we are going to do. Get me enough lumber to build a frame and we
will make you one.” Over the next two weeks we built the frame then
stretched some fine Mexican linen over it and coated it with plaster of
Paris, known in
Mexico
as “juesso”. When it had properly
dried it was mounted on the teraza and an all day party was planned. In
accordance with Paul’s instructions I purchased a 5 gal gariffon of
Senior Kelly’s finest bootleg mescal with plenty of limes and salt. Paul
showed up at about
10 o’clock
with an entourage of attractive young
ladies. (Paul was quite a lady’s man). I had recently received a gift of
two beautiful fighting cocks from my employees and it was decided that
they would become models. I
sat fascinated as Paul made wide sweeping strokes with a magic marker
while assigning each of the young ladies a brush and a carefully prepared
pallot.with instructions as to which of the magic markers outlined areas
to apply her particular color. The end product was magnificent. Two
colorful roosters locked in mortal combat surrounded by two enormous
shrimp, which were symbolic of the nearby estuary. Finally somewhat
unsteady from the mescal we hung it over the fireplace with great
ceremony. As far as I know it is still hanging there. My wife Lenore would
give a kings ransom to get her hands on it today. The problem, of course
is how does one transport a panting that large?
If you are ever in the area around the Limonera, stop in and have a
look.
Note: It was still
hanging there in January 1987 when we passed there on Lorelei, on our way
to
Florida
.
The
ranch is located on the banks of the
Percedio
River
half way between two villages, Villa Union
and Walamo. During the time we lived there the road was unimproved and the
source of great clouds of dust during the dry season. Today it is directly
across the river from the end of the north south runway of
Mazatlan
’s international airport. There was bus
service directly to
Mazatlan
. The busses were known as “Tropicales”
They were open air and locally built. This was the type of vehicle that we
used to transport tourists back and forth to the hotels in
Mazatlan
when we held the Grand Fiestas. We always
made sure that there was a mariachi and his guitar aboard to entertain. At
the ranch we conducted tours and put on a feast of typical Mexican food.
Usually roast piglet and shrimp tamales supplied by cooks from Villa
Union. We even had our own private Mariachis, known as Los Amigasos. They
were from Walamo. We were often entertained by a group of talented young
people from the local grade school. There was always music, dancing and
plenty of margaritas. The last thing on the bill at the end of the evening
was a grand fireworks display out in the orchard behind the ranch house. I
had many people tell me that the party was the
high point
of their vacation.
We
constructed the airboats from old Corvair engines and johnboats but they
were awesome underway, fully capable of speeds of 60 mph. There was a
cooperativa in Villa Union that used the lagoon for shrimping. They had
constructed a large weir across the entrance, which was used to keep the
shrimp inside during the dry season and as a trap when the rains started.
I have never seen shrimp that large anywhere in the world; some were close
to 1 ft long. As you might imagine they had a serious poaching problem
around the lagoon. The Mexican government went so far as to assign a
contingent of marines to control the poaching, but their hands were tied
because moving around in the swamp was quite difficult, especially at
night, which is when the poachers were most active. I gave the officials
from the coop a ride in one of my airboats and they were fascinated. Soon
I was constructing one especially for the Marines. I should mention here
that handling one of these boats looks easy but don’t let that fool you.
I volunteered to teach one of them to operate the craft but was turned
down with confident looks and smiles. It was with great apprehension that
I delivered the boat into the hands of their appointed pilot. My fears
were soon bourn out. The second day after the delivery I received
desperate call for help. I jumped into one of my airboats and hurried off
to their fish-camp deep in the swamp. When I got there I found the
johnboat sitting on the bottom firmly impaled on a rather large log not to
mention several soggy and muddy Marines looking very unhappy. Little by
little the story came out. It seems that a group of poachers were working
in plain sight just across from the fish-camp confident that the muddy
stretch of water between them and the Marines would be adequate
protection. The new secret weapon was fired up and several Marines hopped
aboard. At this point I should tell you about one strange characteristic
of airboats. If you are going straight ahead at a good speed and you try
to suddenly turn the boat continues in the same direction only sideways.
Well the pilot had just gotten up to speed when he spotted the log. The
end result was that they came to a rather abrupt stop and impaled
themselves on the log going sideways. The stop catapulted the entire
contingent in to the muddy water headfirst. Fortunately no one was hurt. I
could not resist passing along a little “I told you so”. We managed to
tow the boat back to the ranch and had her repaired good as new in a
couple of days.
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