Beautiful Beaches
The north and west end of the island have powdery white beaches festooned with tourists. The east and south end have jagged coral cliffs festooned with iguanas and shells. The island has an interesting mix of beautiful beach-front homes, and tar-paper shacks.
Although the island is somewhat isolated, it is just a 20 minute ferry ride from Cancun a city of 500,000 where there is an international airport with flights to Houston taking just over an hour. On the mainland there are numerous American stores like Home Depot, Walmart, and Costco as well as all the usual fat-food franchises.
These days all the basics are available on the island--grocery stores, hardware stores, dive shops, banks, ATMs, pharmacy, clinic, restaurants, eco tours, and the ubiquitous curio shops selling trinkets to tourists.
When I first came here 22 years ago things were quieter, and there were far fewer taxis and foreign travelers. My hotel room was $7. Increasingly tourists are buying up the land and homes. Property values have risen steeply, and in time the workers will have to commute from Cancun.
This tiny island has grown from a sleepy fishing village of three thousand, to a city of 13,000. Even though the fish and shrimp were over-harvested, and those work boats are now rusting hulks, the emphasis shifted to tourism and the island has continued to flourish. Most of the locals are crowded in the middle of the island in cinder block homes with virtually no yard. Hotels and fancy houses fringe the coast.
Isla is increasingly a destination for cruisers because there is a well-protected anchorage here. Ten years ago there were only three marinas on the island, now there are six or seven. In the winter time there are sometimes 40 boats anchored out in addition to the ones tied up in the marinas. But there is nothing quieter than a tourist town in the off-season during a rainy day.
One afternoon recently, William, Henry and I circumnavigated the island via bicycle—about 15 miles, but we kept stopping to take pictures and explore interesting beaches, so it took us about five hours.
We found a neat little cove and so a few days later we all returned via taxi, and spent a pleasant afternoon playing on the beach, climbing rocks, collecting shells, finding sea-glass, and swimming. We admired the intricate brain coral. At one point William and Henry were playing baseball with a piece of driftwood and a shabby coconut. Warren found a lobster shell and antennae that he took home to the boat.
The cove has some formations that look like stalactites that would grow in a bat cave.
Mexico is certainly a land of contrasts. First of all there is the population itself--an interesting mix of Amerindians and Europeans (primarily Spanish). While about 60-65 percent of the population is mixed (Meztizo), about 25-30% is considered purely indigenous, and about 10-15% is mostly Spanish. 
At our marina we meet several workers that actually spoke the Yucatec Mayan language. It is also estimated that 1.5 million Mexicans speak Nahuatl--the Aztec language, but there are dozens of indigenous groups and languages here. 
As we walk around the neighborhoods here, we are struck by two facts, a great number of houses are unfinished—there are piles of sand, and stacks of cinder block in front of about a fourth of the houses, and there are far too many tar-paper and stick shacks. One of our friends here has her house lined with cardboard. 
Perhaps because of persistent poverty there are many pretty flowers, and Mexicans have colorful houses. Two general decorating rules seem to apply: any color but white, and don’t use any color that your neighbor used.
The house in the above picture belongs to Lenore (Lenny) Vaughan, who was married to Stevie Ray Vaughan, a famous Austin guitarist who died in a helicopter crash. I think Lenny and her daughter had great fun painting the walls in such psychodelic schemes.
Despite rampant poverty, many Mexicans are quite generous. The Salazar family, for example has invited us to dinner twice, even though obviously it is a bit of a burden to feed our boisterous boys. Mari Salazar is quite a cook, and one afternoon she fixed us " brazo de reina" (queen's arm) which is a local specialty. She also taught us how to make potato pancakes and how to cook chayotes.
Although her one room house is literally made of sticks and tar-paper held together with wire and rope, and although one wall is lined with cardboard, she was completely un-selfconscious about it.
Her sink is outside and basically consists of a water hose and a large basin that drains on the ground. Her stove is the size of a two-burner Coleman camping stove. She had one or two chairs and a small bed, yet she is always smiling. When we left her house, she wanted to give us three bags of rice! Perhaps she felt sorry for us because we live on a boat. We later invited her and her husband over, and Lora made pizza.
That night we went into town for dinner. For a buck, one gets a fish or chicken taco with beans, rice, a mini-salad, and pico de gallo. We also had some of Mexico’s famous pan dulce. While eating we were serenaded by fire dancers.
