I didn’t fill out the provided comment card at the end of this excursion or submit a review directly to Holland America for three reasons. First, I was worried that my snarky comments translated to “entitled American jerk” in Spanish:
“Now I remember why we don’t allot a month’s salary to a single cruise ship excursion.” Translation: Titulada idiota Americana.
“Every nursing home that serves soggy partially defrosted generic-brand unseasoned mixed vegetables can now legally advertise that they offer residents authentic Mexican food.” Translation: Titulada idiota Americana.
“I’d have ordered the chicken had I known it was the only bird I was going to see.” Translation: Titulada idiota Americana.
“I can only assume you told me to wear a swimsuit under my clothes as a science experiment to see if the crotch would emerge from my mouth after getting jostled about on the back of a tractor pulled wagon with wooden plank seats for 2+ hours, because there sure as heck wasn’t an opportunity to swim.” Translation: Titulada idiota Americana.
Second, I didn’t want there to be negative repercussions for our lovely guide Polo who did his absolute best under difficult circumstances and was in no way responsible for the shortcomings of this excursion. And third, there was a couple in our group who had taken this exact same excursion with the exact same guide three times prior (that’s how much they loved it) and assured us that if we were to look up the word “atypical” in the dictionary, below a photo of Prof. Cruise, there would be a description of how this excursion went for us.
All that was my long-winded way of telling you to approach this review with the appropriate context which I’ll discuss more at the end.
Before I get into the mangroves (see what I did there) of our specific experience, here’s how the excursion was advertised by Holland America:
I know Princess offers a nearly identical excursion called “Estuary Cruise & Tropical Birds” and other cruise lines may as well. To summarize, we paid $89.95 each for the promise of a “cruise down mangrove and palm tree-lined waterways in Mexico’s largest estuary/wetlands system,” an “opportunity for bird-watchers and nature-lovers to spend a day in absolute relaxation,” “time to swim, ” and “a delightful Mexican lunch.” As amateur bird watchers and nature enthusiasts with a kid who loves playing in ocean waters that don’t result in hypothermia before a single toe is fully submerged like at our local beaches in Seattle, we were sold. We didn’t care much about the Mexican lunch, seeing as we had all-you-can-eat food included on our cruise and it was already well after lunchtime when we set about our journey, but thought trying some yummy Mexican food was a nice bonus.
But here’s how the day actually went (read to the end before judging me hopelessly surly):
When asked, “what are your weaknesses?” in job interviews, I always answer with, “I’m compulsively early” followed by, “which might not seem like a bad thing except that there won’t be any coffee or donuts left for those who show up to meetings on time.”
And true to form, my family and I arrived at our designated meeting location (just off the ship on the pier) 15 minutes early and quickly located a crew member holding up a sign for our tour. They checked our names off their list and directed us to a large tour bus. “So far, so good,” I thought.
But my optimism started to fade after sitting on the bus, which appeared full, for 20 minutes after our scheduled departure time of 1pm, which meant that I’d been entertaining my 9 year-old and reassuring him that “these birds are going to be so cool!” for 35 minutes. What I should have said was, “settle in for another three and a half hours of this, kid. And there may or may not be any birds at the end of it. But we are hearty folk and will endure whatever comes our way.” A good lesson, yes, but not one I was eager to give over our Christmas vacation.
Once we were finally under way, our guide Polo introduced himself and gave an estimated time of return to our cruise ship of 5pm. That made the tour about two hours shorter than advertised, but was fine with us (6 hours was a long excursion for a 9 year-old and 5pm would get us back in plenty of time for dinner in the dining room).
Polo talked a bit about himself and the area on the 20 minute bus ride to board our boat. Once we arrived at a tiny pier, we were divided into two groups and boarded two small boats (pictured behind the pelicans in the photo above) via an awkward transfer from a larger boat. Fifteen minutes later we arrived at Stone Island where were were greeted on our approach by dozens of pelicans, some of which landed on the roof of the boat to the delight of my son. Had I known these would be the only birds we would see up close and in full daylight, I would have taken more photos!
I was a little confused as to why we were getting off the boat, thinking I must have missed the estuary while digging a stray lash out of my eye, but I’m generally a go-with-the-flow kind of gal and assumed things would eventually come into focus. At this point it was explained to us that our ship’s later-than-usual arrival in Mazatlan meant that we would be doing the tour in reverse. So now we were headed for “lunch” (by this point it was around 2pm and we’d already eaten lunch on the ship).
We reunited with the rest of our group from the second boat and were packed onto the tractor-pulled wagon with wood plank benches pictured above. It’s probably worth pausing for a moment to mention that my mom had cracked several ribs on a bus in La Paz a few days prior to this, so the discomfort of the wagon ride was amplified by about 100 fold for her. But even the average 43 year-old (admittedly a bit bloated from 7-days of cruise binging, but otherwise all my pieces fit together properly), found the long ride through the narrow, unpaved, and badly pot-holed streets of Stone Island unpleasant (there was more demand for inflatable butt donuts than Covid tests in the ship’s medical center following this excursion).
Prior to arriving at the restaurant, we were given a small sheet of paper to indicate what we’d like for lunch and advised of an additional “vegetarian option” as well as several items available for an up-charge (grilled shrimp and the restaurant’s specialty: mango margaritas). I’m a vegetarian, so I went with the vegetarian option and my son’s a boring kid (#facts) so he went with the cheese quesadilla. I was surprised that Mr. Cruise and my mom also selected the vegetarian option (Polo’s description sounded good and I think they wanted something lighter as we’d already eaten lunch on the ship).
We arrived at the restaurant, located along a vast beach packed with locals and tourists, and secured a table. At this point we were told “your food will arrive in around 30 minutes,” but we still had our little menu cards and no drink orders were being taken. So we waited and waited and waited for something, anything to happen.
At this point I started having flashbacks of a prior cruise ship excursion that dumped us in an upstairs room of a Hard Rock Cafe for over an hour for “free fountain drinks.” We were handed food menus with a hard sell even though no one expressed any interest in ordering anything and after 10 minutes of awkward and increasingly annoyed silence, a few people ordered sodas assuming they were complimentary fountain drinks. After sitting there for over an hour, abandoned by our tour guides and low-key wondering if we’d been kidnapped, two people in our group (one being Mr. Cruise) received a bill for their sodas with the explanation that Coke came in a bottle and therefore wasn’t complimentary (this wasn’t mentioned when they ordered it). Mr. Cruise paid for both drinks as the other gentleman didn’t have any money with him and joked: “No worries, next time we’re in Cartagena together you can pay for my unwanted, “free” Coke.
We tried to have a sense of humor about the whole thing, but that experience coupled with several others over the years has generally soured me on cruise ship excursions – they’re overpriced, usually crowded, and sometimes not that great. But I still occasionally book them if I have onboard credit to cover the cost (as was the case with this excursion in Mazatlan) or if it’s a port I don’t feel comfortable exploring on my own or booking a private, non-ship excursion.
But back to our estuaries and bird watching expedition…
After waiting for over 30 minutes at a table with nothing to do, waiters finally started coming around to take drink orders and collect our menus. With no indication of how long it would take for our food to be ready and no explanation as to the itinerary for the rest of our stop on Stone Island, I decided to take my son exploring along the adjacent beach for a few minutes. We didn’t go far as I assumed we’d have time after lunch to enjoy the beach and I didn’t want to miss our food arriving.
We waited for another 20 minutes for our food and, when it arrived, all simultaneously looked at our plates, a little dazed and confused, and then looked around for hidden cameras, sure we were being pranked. I examined the plain tortilla that accompanied my entree of cold, unseasoned “Great Value” frozen vegetables looking for the Virgin Mary in the char markings like, “there has to be something more to this.”
We kept up a positive attitude for our son who enjoyed his cheese quesadilla and the free virgin mango margarita our waiter brought him (which was a very kind gesture – I think he felt bad that my son had sat there for so long).
After finishing our “delightful Mexican lunch,” we waited and waited and waited again until Polo finally instructed us to load back onto the wagon. By now it was after 4pm and several people in our group asked, clearly irritated, “are we ever going to see any birds?!?” Polo reassured us that, “we’re heading there now,” and it occurred to me that all that waiting around at the restaurant was, in fact, our beach time despite there being no communication as such and no changing facilities, loungers, “water activities available for purchase,” etc. The #silverlining was that we didn’t get wet which would have made an already chilly boat ride through the estuary unbearably cold.
After another long hour on the tractor-pulled wagon through mango and coconut farms (the landscape was beautiful, but we were all so tired and worried that it was going to get dark before we even got to the estuary, we didn’t really enjoy it), we finally arrived at the estuary after 5pm, just as the sun was beginning to set and past the time Polo said we’d be back to our ship.
Once onboard our vessel, I channeled my best “Dory” (just keep swimming) and tried to forget about the past hours and enjoy the portion of our journey for which we’d all been waiting. Polo provided interesting commentary on the mangroves and pointed out different bird species (heron, ospreys, pelicans, and hawks), but most of them were too far away to see or photograph well, especially in the dim light. Even so, it was a peaceful, relaxing journey through the estuary with a grand finale to come.
There wasn’t actually any lemonade or cotton candy on this carnival ride (I should note there was complimentary Mexican beer and sodas onboard the boat), but as we exited the narrow channels of the estuary out into more open waters, this lemon of an excursion turned into lemonade.
We were treated to a sunset that can only be described as magical. With rippled water in the foreground, a palm tree lined horizon and cotton candy skies, I took a slow, deep breath and thought to myself, “this crazy beautiful world – and I’ve been so lucky to see so much of it thanks to cruising, even if everything doesn’t always go perfectly.” And a few minutes later, as if on cue, we sailed by our cruise ship, Holland America’s ms Zuiderdam, all lit up like a spectacular constellation in the night sky.
Now if the excursion had ended there, I’d have happily wrapped up this review on a positive note concluding with my usual:
and with that…
Class Dismissed.
Instead, I have to scold you for prematurely packing up your belongings “don’t pack up just yet, we still have 20 minutes left of excursion!”
After we disembarked our boat in order to load into vans (our 5th mode of transportation), our tour guides lined us up to sign liability waivers they’d forgotten about at the beginning. I admit to thinking, “should we blame mom’s cracked ribs on the potholed wagon ride on Stone Island and cash in before signing this thing?” But I decided to sign as long as we didn’t have to do the excursion again à la Groundhog Day: “I’ll sign anything, just take us back to the ship.”
We waited another 15 minutes as everyone signed their waivers and boarded several smaller vans that dropped us off well short of our cruise ship where we loaded onto people movers (our 6th mode of transportation) that finally delivered us back to our cruise ship at 7:30-ish, exhausted and starving and vowing to never take another cruise ship excursion (stay tuned for my reviews of the cruise ship excursions I’ve booked on my upcoming Princess cruise…”just keep swimming!”). And with that…
If it feels like this is never going to end (second verse, same as the first!), now you know how the excursion felt. But this last part is important. It’s like this review’s version of the liability waiver I saved until you’d already suffered through the whole thing. I wanted to conclude with some context and another perspective, provided by a couple from our ship who’d done this exact same excursion with the same tour guide three times previously and loved it so much they spent the first 30 minutes of this, their fourth time, raving about how great it was going to be only to spend the next five and a half hours getting glared at like a couple of politicians caught partying during lockdown: “You liars!”
Here’s the context: It turns out we visited Mazatlan on one of the busiest tourist days of the year (over the Christmas holiday), our ship arrived in port in the afternoon instead of the morning, and because of the timing, we did the usual itinerary for this excursion in reverse (the first time that had ever happened and probably the last).
And the excursion should have gone like this: We would start by boarding a boat to the estuary where we’d spend several hours identifying dozens of bird species and other wildlife as we glided through narrow channels lined with mangroves. Then we’d transfer to a tractor-pulled wagon and make our way through coconut and mango farms to the beach. The tractor would take us on a scenic ride along the gorgeous and nearly deserted beach to a restaurant where we’d savor a delicious Mexican lunch (just don’t order the vegetarian option) at the appropriate time. Then after lunch we’d have an hour to relax and enjoy the beach before heading back to our ship.
And while that wasn’t our experience, it will very likely be yours (I’d put the odds at 75% based on the track record of the repeat couple) if you decide to book the Estuaries & Bird Watching Expedition in Mazatlan. And with that…
finally…
at long last…
please say we don’t have to board another vehicle…
Class Dismissed!
Homework: No homework, that lecture was enough to endure. But be sure to subscribe to the blog to receive new course materials directly to your e-mail and follow Prof. Cruise on your favorite social media sites:
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