Mexico Day 115: A long day at the port

Mazatlán, Sinaloa to the Sea of Cortez //

The day of our ferry reservation has finally arrived. We don’t need to check in at the port until 1:00 p.m., but we’re eager and ready to go by 10:30. It’s an hour drive across Mazatlán to the port, and the change in Mark’s demeanor while driving through the busy city could not be more different than when we arrived here 2.5 months ago. That first day in Mazatlán in January was stressful as Mark’s crash course in mainland Mexico driving began. Since then, he’s aced every test from navigating town streets too narrow for our truck, to weaving through large cities with traffic patterns that directly contradict logic. The ease he feels while driving through Mazatlán today is a direct representation of how much we’ve learned these last few months.

Pulling into the port thus begins various steps of fumbling through Spanish interactions with TMC Ferry agents before we can board the ship. We understand barely enough to know what we need to do next. Our receipt from the bank, where we deposited our payment into TMC’s bank account last week, gets us into the port. Then it’s on to the weigh station, and from there we head to the ticket office. The clerk shuffles through a stack of paperwork and eventually locates the info we sent via email last week. When she hands us our official paperwork and boarding ticket, I’m elated that we’ve not run into any roadblocks. Though, the instructions we’re given before we depart the ticket office are unfavorable.  Only the operator of the vehicle is allowed to proceed to the loading dock. Any passengers must wait in a separate area to load the ship at a later time. Anxiety creeps up on me; it’s unclear as to where I’m supposed to wait or where I’m supposed to go when it’s time to load.

At 1 p.m., Mark heads to the loading dock. I take a seat on the curb where I see other people waiting. Even though I think to bring headphones for listening to music as well as my Kindle for reading, I can’t bring myself to do anything but keep an eye on my surroundings. I catch myself catastrophizing when I get caught up wondering what I would do if Mark got on the boat and I didn’t. This is a far-fetched scenario that I have to work at squandering. To pass the time and ease my anxiety, I walk around and get a better understanding of the layout of the port. Eventually, I locate the walkway that will take me to the ship. At 3 p.m., I’m allowed to enter the loading area and wait near the ferry’s entrance. I can see Mark and the truck parked on the upper deck and finally feel confident that I’ll get to go to Baja too. After another hour and a half of waiting and watching semi truck after semi truck get loaded onto the boat, I walk up to a deckhand and ask in broken Spanish if I can get on. He nods yes, and I’m elated that after 3.5 hours of waiting, I can finally return to the truck.

Two more hours pass before the cargo ferry is fully loaded. At 7 p.m., we’re finally underway. It’s been a long day of waiting, but we know that patience is the name of the game in situations like these. All that matters is that everything worked out and we were able to board the ferry without issue.

We watch the sunset from the viewing deck, and I feel overcome with awe for everything we’ve done, everywhere we’ve been, and all the challenges we’ve overcome since driving off of this same boat nearly 80 days ago. I had so much fear about mainland Mexico back then, and none of it was warranted. We were never scammed, robbed, threatened, or even treated negatively in any way. Mexico is such a warm, welcoming, diverse, and magnificently beautiful country. I’m so grateful to know this land for what it really is, not what the media or our government portrays it to be.

Back at our camper, that is tucked in tightly between semis, I tuck in to bed and watch a movie while the ship rocks us gently back and forth. In sixteen hours, we’ll be back in Baja. And I could not be more excited to be back to the Mexico that we know and love the most.    

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