Acapulco October 7, 2022
“Weather-wise, it’s such a lovely day.
Just say the word, and we’ll take those birds
Down to Acapulco Bay.”
Come Fly With Me
As the Sinatra standard attests, Acapulco has been a popular destination since at least the ’50’s, although in this case we may be talking about the 1550’s. In the late 1400’s, the wide bay called Acapulco, named after the lost children of a mythical goddess, became a Nahuatl prize possession, when the Aztec Empire captured it from the pastoral Yobe and drove the pacific people into the hills, far removed from the seaside ways of their former lives.
The Nahuatl did not have long to enjoy the spoils of their conquest, however, as the Spaniards arrived in force soon after the fall of Tenochtitlan, thus stretching the empire to the Pacific and creating an ideal port of trade with the orient. By the 1570’s, a fleet of ships, known as the Manilla Galleons, were operating on a regular basis between Acapulco and Spanish Philippines, carrying Mexican silver in one direction and Chinese goods and raw materials in the other, where they would be carried over the mountains to Veracruz for export to Spain. The fleet successfully operated for 250 years. Much of that time was spent fighting off English and French pirates while securing a lucrative monopoly.
Acapulco became home to dream-seekers and ruthless entrepreneurs alike. The black market opportunities were there for the taking in Mexico’s first sin-city, and by the 20th-Century a multitude of criminal organizations had a piece of the pie, including the Italian-American mafia, which might explain why Frank Sinatra so liked to take his “birds” there. He’d be sure to tell them to “pack light.”
While I am away in Utah visiting Theo and family, Vanessa and her extended kin travel to Acapulco from Mexico City, a 5-hour drive south on a good highway that passes through the states of Morelos and Guerrero. The road is so streamlined that its final miles include a tunnel drilled straight through the coastal range.
In its heyday, more than a half-century ago, Acapulco was where the cosmopolitans of Mexico, and the world, came to find glamour and excitement on the beach. But those days are gone, and new mafias rule this city. Today the classy old hotels of yore are neglected and decrepit. Embassies and consulates warn tourists to stay away, and they mostly do, but Vanessa’s Abuelos from Chicago are no tourists. They have a mission.
This is their final trip to a favorite beach, Playa de Hornos, and they want their loved ones to share it with them. It has been 40 years since they have last been here. The sun is shining crystalline, the waves gently roaring, on a family Sunday on the sand—just like they remember. Then Santa Muerte and his apostles arrive, and everything changes.
Two dark idols are carried onto the sand by young men covered in tattoos and scars. The larger idol is almost as tall as an adult human, painted in saintly colors. The men carry it into the waves and bathe it with palms of seawater. They recite prayers to the Angel of Death. A deafening sound system plays narco-corridos.
The demonic ritual draws a crowd. As Vanessa notes, some of the spectators are merely curious, but many others watch with clear admiration and join the party. The tequila freely flows around the smaller effigy in the sand, where revelers caress their saint while cursing their enemies, and there is no telling where this all might lead. If this represents the murderous leadership of one gang, there may be another gang in the vicinity with a different agenda. Vanessa’s father has seen enough.
There is a reason why Acapulco is one of the most dangerous cities in Mexico. At one time, the contest was over control of the port to Asia, and the plunders it provided, then, later, a destination for jet-setters. The game has changed again. The world has since moved away from Acapulco, and what is left behind is crumbling glitz and a cult of violence. At least for Los Abuelos, eyes gleaming in a Pacific sunset, there still remain golden memories.
“Up there, where the air is rarified,
We’ll just glide, starry-eyed.
Up there, I’ll be holding you so near,
You may hear angels cheer,
Just because we’re together.
Weather-wise, it’s such a lovely day,
Just say the words and we’ll take those birds
Down to Aca-pulco Bay—
It’s perfect for a flying honeymoon, they say,
Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away.”