itchenvoyages

2011-05-07T10:46:00.000-07:00

30 April 2011 - Mazatlan, Mexico

ITCHEN has sold!

The broker came to the boat with a couple from Washington State right after we arrived in Mazatlan. They toured the boat and spent most of an afternoon with us. They left as they had several other boats to look at, but returned in short order. They had come down the previous winter with friends and spent some time sailing around the La Paz area and fell in love with sailing; they had never sailed before, but they were hooked. This year they came to Mexico just looking for a boat to buy. On their journey, they had previously stopped at La Paz and San Carlos and had two more stops at PV and Bahia de Navidad, after Mazatlan.

They spent the weekend visiting the boat and us, deciding whether to cancel their plans for looking at other boats. Monday they made us an offer (after 25 lookers it was our first). We did the usual bantering back and forth, agreed upon a price and started the paperwork. It all went very smoothly and by the end of the following week we had money in the bank and they had a new boat. ITCHEN will stay in Mexico and be home ported out of La Paz. She will gain a new moniker as well … Klickitat II.

We are sorry to see ITCHEN go, as we are quite fond of her. She sparkles and shines and moves through the water as gracefully as any boat out there; she is in perfect shape. I knew it was the right move though as on the test sail in lifting the main, I thought to myself, “if I never raise another sail again, it’ll be too soon.” We did not set out to do what we had originally planned (sail around the world). However, as a result we are going to take a different path and we are on to new adventures. We plan to return to the States, buy a car and start heading east looking at trawlers along the way. When we find what we want, we’ll begin cruising The Great Loop. I will start a new blog under the new vessels name, which I will post here for those of you who want to follow along. With that said, I will now do a final roll call for ITCHEN …

DING - DING … … DING - DING

Reveille, Reveille, Reveille; All hands heave out trice up. Prepare the ship for and aft for the morning net. Female berthing spaces are now secured. Uniform of the day is clean shorts and flip-flops. The smoking lamp is lit. Breakfast for the crew.

The time is Oh-Eight-Hundred hours; this is Saturday 30 April 2011.

Good Morning Mazatlan cruisers.

This is tj and Julie your net hosts, aboard the sailing vessel ITCHEN.

Priority Traffic - All hands switch your radios to high power and listen for any emergency or priority traffic. Those vessels with priority traffic are cleared to transmit. Nothing heard.

Quarters, Quarters, Quarters; All vessels to quarters for muster, instructions and inspection. Vessels prepare to sound off! Sound off at will!

New Arrivals – New arrivals muster in with your vessels name, crews name, last port-of-call and next port-of-call; … Welcome Aboard new arrivals.

Departures – All vessels getting underway muster in with your vessels name, crews name and next port-of-call.

This will be ITCHENS last net.

The sailing vessel ITCHEN will soon come under the command of new masters. Somewhere in the not to distant future, ITCHEN will slip her mooring lines for the final time. In the dimly lit haze of the future, just at the half-light of the horizon, Poseidon will rise from the depths and with his great trident STRIKE the name ITCHEN from the ledger of the deep, expunged for all time and from all records and recollections …

Her new masters plan to homeport out of La Paz. On this auspicious occasion we wish them, and you, safe and rapid passages throughout your journeys.

Tides and Weather - Vessel with tides and weather muster in; Well Done - Master at Arms issue extra rations of grog for that vessel.

Mail Call, Mail Call, Mail Call – Personnel volunteering to transit mail identify yourselves.

Rides and Crew - Captains muster with your vessel name, manpower needs and sailing destination; stowaways, wenches and unassigned personnel looking for world travel and adventure on the high seas, muster in for assignment to a vessel.

Thoughts or jokes for the day - All hands are reminded hilarity and mirth are mandatory. Very well, hilarity and mirth are secured for the day.

Newly moored vessels may now shift colors. Working parties muster on the forecastle. Sweepers, Sweepers man your brooms. Give the ship a clean sweep down fore and aft. Sweep down all lower decks, ladder-backs and passageways. Empty all trashcans, fore and aft. Bring all trash on deck and hold on station for dumping in receptacles on the pier. Set the in-port watch. Secure the sea and anchor detail. Crews inspect your vessel for watertight integrity; make all reports to the Officer of the Day. Liberty expires for watch standers and cooks at 1700 hours. Cinderella liberty expires at 2400 hours. Authorized personnel may commence liberty. Liberty boats are free to depart.

DING - DING … … DING - DING. This net ... (this blog) ... is secured.

Itchen Log 12 May 2010 - 02 April 2011

2011-04-07T11:09:00.000-07:00

Hogmanay - Edinburgh, Scotland

Christmas in England

Warwick Castle

Octoberfest in costume

Grossglockner Highway

May Through mid-August 2010

This is now March 2011 and I haven’t written in the blog for some time. Our future plans/options are as varied as they are numerous. I last told you that if ITCHEN didn’t sell, we would head south through the Panama Canal and cruise the Caribbean. We would then head into the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) and do the great loop (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Loop). Alas, ITCHEN has not sold and we have added options, which included bashing back to San Diego and;
have the boat trucked to Texas where we would splash in the Gulf of Mexico;
sail around southern California for the summer, fall and winter season and then head north to the Pacific Northwest and do the Inside Passage http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inside_Passage) in the );
return back south through the Panama Canal, Caribbean and sail up to the ICW; or,
leave the boat in either California or Mexico to be sold and buy a trawler on the east coast and begin the ICW from where we buy the new boat. We have yet to make up our minds. Cruisers have a saying that all plans are written in sand at low tide.

The summer in Mazatlan was hot and humid. It was bearable until mid August, which is when we turned on the air conditioner and disappeared into the boat every afternoon. Until that time, Julie would dutifully walk every morning to her health club for her workouts, while I did boat chores; I, in turn, would leave in the afternoon and walk about town while she did her chores. We took advantage of the happy hours, pools and movies at El Cid and in town.

mid-August through the end of October 2010

On August 15 we departed Mazatlan for Denver. We are headed back to Europe but we are going through Denver for my 40th high school reunion. I, along with two others from my high school (Fairview High School, Boulder Colorado, Class of 1970) and three from the cross-town high school, were asked to speak at the reunion (which, for the first time was a combination reunion for of both high schools in town). These reunions really are high points in my life. I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t feel that way, as those school years are so fundamental and formative to what we later become in life. It is where we experienced almost the first of everything that is to come later … from first grade though senior year ... what an incredible period! All of my classmates, each one a deep and precious memory, profoundly influenced my life. Many of them, I’ve known since first grade. I was deeply honored to be able to share with them my feelings and if you’ll indulge me, I will enclose what I said here;

Forty years since our graduation … it doesn’t seem very long at all … the mere blink of an eye. I come to these reunions and I see you and I instantly remember how young and fresh, straight and tall, bright and beautiful, you all were. To see you now … to talk with you now, 40 years down the road is singularly extraordinary. I only wish I could see and talk with everyone from our class. Make no mistake, all of you (those in attendance and those not) retain a fond presence and occupy a special place in my heart.

From those years so long ago, I remember casual glances and greetings in the hallways; an unexpected smile, a unique squint or a particular shrug of the shoulders ... all within the hustle and bustle of adolescence. Sometimes in the half-light of my memory one of your faces will reach out to me. For a moment, your image is as precise and conspicuous as a razors edge … one fleeting, glorious moment. I have volumes of memories stored within me, some of them are about you and some of those are my fondest. I can’t think of a life more fulfilled that doesn’t include my memories of you.

We, this class, have a relationship, a bond that stretches back through the years, for some of us of over half a century. I am in awe of that unspoken and unintended pledge, to which we remain faithful. This relationship gives me a sense of belonging … a sense of home … no, really … a point of origin.

Our class has been thinning for some time now … sadly from even before the time of our graduation. Indeed, I suppose these reunions, in addition to reaffirming our bond with each other, may especially serve as a testament to our deceased classmates … our collective resolve to keep them with us, if you will. I expect by the next reunion our class will be smaller yet. But until the last of our classmates depart, and with him or her we cease to exist as an entity, we exist as a complete class ... where everyone is accounted for and everyone belongs. Eventually, we will all merge into one … until that time thank you for being a part of my life. I’m humbled and honored to have been a part of yours.

I never had so many friends as I did when I was in high school ...

The reunion was a resounding success (at least for me) and I would do it everyday if I could.

From Denver we caught a commercial flight to Newark and then a limousine to McGuire AFB in New Jersey. We waited five days in the McGuire terminal to catch a hop to Europe before catching one to Charleston AFB, NC, then Ramstien AFB, Germany and finally to Lakenheath AFB, Mildenhall, UK. We spent the night on base and the next morning caught a bus to Heathrow and the train to Brigids house in Harrow-on-the-Hill, London, UK. We stayed with Brigids a few days until our cruising friends BRENDON arrived.

With BRENDON we flew to Frankfurt, Germany where we rented a car and commenced our European travels. We went to many of the places Julie and I had been the previous summer so this time we were more seasoned. We went back to Bacharach on the Rhine and stayed in the castle; to Nuremberg and toured the nazi war museum and Regensburg where we sat in a gasthause, ate sausage, drank beer and played Mexican train while the hostess kept our mugs full and the locals raised their own sort of hell. The following morning was spent getting my cancelled debit card un-cancelled. Try doing that with a German pre-paid phone card (purchased at the German post office), using German pay phones, talking with German operators, with everyone only speaking German. I've learned almost everywhere I go, someone will speak English, except when it is absolutely, positivly critical.

From Germany we drove to Melk, Austria where we toured one of the oldest and largest operational monasteries (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melk_Abbey). The abbey was huge and took us the entire afternoon to tour it. On to Vienna, Austria to see the Vienna Boys Choir. It was touch and go for a while, as we could not find where the choir was to perform. We had tickets and the information on the location but the locals we asked did not, or seemed not, to know who the Vienna Boys Choir was, let alone the location we trying to locate. After much perseverance and stumbling around central Vienna, we found the location, which was in one of the many chapels in one of the many Hapsburg palaces. The performance was held as part of a Sunday morning mass (first time I’ve ever paid to go to church and listen to the same homily four times in four different languages) and the boys were four stories up, way in the rear of the choir loft. We couldn’t see them at all. After mass they brought the choir down (14 boys (?)… I always thought the choir was much larger) and they performed a couple of songs for us.

While in Austria we also visited Werfin, Salzburg, Konigsee Lake, Glossglockner Highway, and Graz (birthplace of Arnold Schwartznagar). Werfin is famous for its Castle as it was used in the filming of “Where Eagles Dare” with Clint Eastwood and Richard Burton. We toured the castle and the views are spectacular, but our real story lies in our introduction to Austrian economics. After touring the castle, we were looking for a B&B to stay in and obtained a map of the local facilities from the tour guide in town and commenced visiting the hostels to see what they offered. They all advertised themselves as B&B’s but many were more like hotels than houses. We decided we wanted to stay in a home and were only able to find the one we wanted with a little guesswork and luck. By that I mean, the house was identified on the map but there were no signs or any other indication that is really existed. After driving up and down the same washboard dirt road a couple of times, we finally stopped at a house that looked like the right place on the map, but there was no indication (a sign) that they took boarders. We tentatively knocked on the door and after some time (we were getting back in the car) the proprietress came out to greet us. We asked her if she rented rooms and she enthusiastically nodded in agreement. We asked her why she had no signs advertising her establishment. She thoughtfully looked at us and cordially (with a hint of Germanic authority) responded, “If they come fine … if they don’t come, this if fine too.” Oh … well … OK.

We spent the next afternoon in Salzburg and the following day we slipped back into Germany to visit Konigssee Lake (which is a Alpine lake noted for its stunning beauty and geological anomaly) then back into Austria and the Glossglockner Highway. The Glossglockner Highway is an Austrian National Park and, I believe, the highest Alpine highway traversing the Austrian Alps; it looks remarkable like Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park. Additionally, they have, or at least they did, automobile and motorcycle races up it like they do Pikes Peak. Here, go see for yourselves (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grossglockner_High_Alpine_Road).

While driving through Austria we would occasionally stop at a McDonalds for quick bite to eat and something to drink (McDonalds is neither fast, nor cheap in Europe). They are also chincy on ice. One has to go into detailed explanation in an attempt to get a full cup of ice with a coke. The attendants look at you like you’re stupid … why do you want to replace the limited room in the cup with ice when you can have it full of coke … Americans!? This was a travail we would endure throughout our entire trip.

During our travels through Austria, we made little side trips to Hungary and Switzerland. At the Hungarian border, now unguarded, we walked across because the car insurance would not cover us driving across. That’s it; we walked into Hungary and back. It’s just like walking from South Dakota into Wyoming at the State line (just a whole lot of nothing … traffic is just about as heavy, too.) We kind of did the same thing in Switzerland (for the same reasons). We crossed the border at Lake Constance (which unlike the Hungarian border is very picturesque). BRENDON wanted to go to the post office for a stamp. Easy enough, but while there I had the occasion to ask of the post-mistress the exchange rate for the Swiss franc versus the Euro (as Switzerland does not use the Euro). She looked at me quizzically and smiling, helpfully pointed to something behind me (BRENDON and I were the only ones in the post office at the time). I turned thinking the exchange rates were posted. I saw nothing and turned back to her. She then enlisted her fellow post-mistress and together they adamantly, charmingly, engagingly continued to point at something behind me, at one point nearly crawling out of their stations in their zeal. BRENDON and I were both racing around the tiny space like retrievers responding to their master direction, occasionally looking up for further commands, but to no avail. We could not figure what they were pointing at. Finally, Steve looked at me and said, "the ticket machine?" (the kind that gives numbers for a turn in line). We turned to look at them and they both were nodding their heads vigorously ... just glowing. Steve and looked at each other (pleased but dumbfounded) that all this commotion had been about taking a number to ask a question. I did not take a ticket and I did not get my question answered. The Swiss are tough!

From Austria we ventured back into Germany to visit Triberg, which you'll remember is home of the worlds largest cuckoo clock and a great restaurant that serves nothing but wild game. Onto Munich, Germany, to attend Octoberfest. While still in Mazatlan, Julie (who acted as our tour guide and made all the arrangements for us) made dirndls for herself, Denise on BRENDON and Brigid, and purchased for me a pair of lederhosen. We were to attend Octoberfest in traditional costume and so we did (except for Steve – Steve was costume less). Octoberfest is a huge fair with rides, beer tents where the beer served in two-liter mugs, German sausage and pretzels the size of your face. Somewhat tipsy, Julie and I mounted one of the centrifugal rides; the ones that throw you around like a rag doll attempting to force you to spew your stomach contents onto those foolish enough to be watching from below. During the ride, concentrating on keeping the beer and pretzels in her distended belly was too much for Julie and one of her breasts escape its courses; she got it back though, by the time the ride ended. When Brigid heard about it she likened it to an eight ball in a tube sock (I, of course, thought of the incident in terms of a cumulus cloud floating across a clear blue sky).

We then caught a flight back to England. It doesn’t matter where in the world one is, the airport security is always such a pain in the ass. Did you know all the airport security personnel (worldwide) are required to graduate from the School of Mindlessness for the Abrupt and Obnoxious? At Frankfort they wanted me to put a half ounce plastic bottle of shaving oil in a quart size plastic bag (which, of course, I could buy at the nearby convenience shop). Steve and Denny were really put though the ringer with Denny nearly having to submit to a strip search. The whole system is built to the weakest link and the employees act accordingly.

Back in England, we took a driving tour of southern England and Wales. We went to Warwick Castle built by William the Conqueror (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warwick_Castle) and Bath (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bath_england), both rich in English history. In Bath we toured the ancient Roman baths and observed the spires of the Bath Abbey on which the Angels were crawling down the outside spires of the church. We walked all over England on a map the size of a house, which had been placed on the ground for just such purposes. Bath is the site where arguably, legendarily (if one is able to sort through the whole Arthurian mess), King Arthur fought his greatest battle with Anglo-Saxons, slewing 960 of the enemy.

In Llangolen, Wales on a typical British overcast day with a light mist and gray skies, we rented a canal boat (properly known as a narrow boat) for a day. We walked, rode and banged our way along a narrow canals that included locks, an elevated, ancient roman aqueduct that traversed a deep valley and had hot lunch at the Poachers Pocket Pub. Being sailors and anxious to display our nautical abilities Steve and I, after receiving operating instructions regarding the boat, inquired about the life vests should one fall overboard. The vessels owner stood, turned and regarded us with sincere concern (obviously he’s spotted fellow mariners … men of the sea, if you will); after a thoughtful pause he nodded his head knowingly and said, “first thing you do is stand-up. The canal, at its deepest, is only three feet;” ... very well then. There are thousands of miles and hundreds of canals throughout the United Kingdom connecting Scotland, England and Wales. The canals were originally used for industrial transportation and irrigation but fell in to disrepair with the advent of the railway and improving highways. They are now enjoying resurgence due to pleasure craft. Narrow boating, like cruising, is often a lifestyle. The boats can be no wider than seven feet and no longer than 70 feet and they have all the amenities of a land based home. Live-Aboards carefully tend and decorate these cozy and delightful low profile gems as they meander through the waterways of the English countryside (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narrowboat).

Crossing the Severn Bridge from Wales back into England, we found ourselves in the village of Ludlow, where we experienced two examples of the English version of Austrian economics. On the way we stopped at McDonalds for something to drink. They would not sell us hot water (for our own tea). They would sell us their hot tea; they would sell us hot coffee, but they would not sell us hot water … go figure. Toward evening, we stopped at a B&B (this one at least had a sign) and Julie inquired of the proprietress if we could obtain lodging for the night. She looked over Julies shoulder at the three of us in the car, looked back at Julie, looked over Julies shoulder again and in inimitable British fashion said, “I do have a room, but it looks like you have quite a crowd in there. We have a family event tomorrow and I don’t fancy cleaning the rooms, so NO, we don’t have any rooms for the night.” ... delightful! With no other choice, we continued into Ludlow (another gem in its own right, rich in Tudor architecture) and on the other side of town we found a quaint little pub that rented rooms. It would’ve been just perfect. I asked the bartender if they had rooms and he checked with the innkeeper to see if a room was available. Indeed, one was, but the innkeeper was not in a mood for cleaning up the room the next day so he turned us down, as well. We wound up staying at the Travel Lodge (who apparently did clean rooms the next day) and had traditional English dinners of fish & chips, bangers and mash and pints of bitters at the pub anyway. The next day we arrived back at Brigids and the following day BRENDON departed for America. We stayed on one more day to visit with Julie’s brother and sister-in-law who were in from Uruguay.

We left Brigids and flew Ryan Air to Athens, Greece. Ryan Air is a low cost airline in Europe and they really are low cost, no frills airline. In saying that though, I believe we got as good a service with them as we did with any full service carrier and for a whole lot less. As Ryan Air has no pre-arranged seating they thoughtfully open up both ends of the aircraft when embarking and disembarking passengers; this makes loading and unloading a rapid, painless process. They have hefty charges for any checked baggage, but if you can travel light with just a carry-on, they’re unbeatable.

We joined two other cruising couples (SERENDIPITY and DECADE DANCE) in a repositioning charter in the Aegean. They were kind enough to invite us as they chartered a Bavarian 44 up the Cycladies from Paros to Athens, stopping at Sifnos, Iydra, Kithnos, Poros and Agina on the way. The sailing was spectacular. We were able to leave our ports-of-call at a reasonable hour (without having to worry about tides or currents) and arrive at our next destination early in the afternoon, ahead of the rest of the fleet. Each of us was captain for a day and each of us took our turn med-mooring (backing the boat down with the stern to the quay while dropping and setting an anchor to hold the bow off). All of our island stops were delightful in that they all had their own special charms; our hotel in Paros had a graveyard dating back to 400 B.C. in the back yard; we rented a 50cc scooter ($10.00 for the day) and drove all over the island; and, I tried to eat a grape straight off the tree. They're pretty bitter. We crossed the shipping lanes on our final days passage back to Athens. Shipping and especially the ferries were thick as fly’s and they moved nearly as erratic. The bigger ships are all business and have little tolerance for pokey sailing vessels toddling about. We left Athens but not before we toured the Acropolis and the street markets in Athens; we also caught a short afternoon snooze on a park bench below the Parthenon.

From Athens we caught a late night flight to Gatwick airport, UK, where unknown to us, all public transportation had closed for the evening. We were stuck in the airport until early morning when we caught a train to Victoria Station; a mistake on our part because while the train from Gatwick to Victoria Station had commenced running, no other public transportation had started, because it was Sunday. Victoria Station is outside and early mornings in London, in late October are cold and wet. We shivered in the large, cold, history filled, poorly lit station along with the homeless, the late night partiers, drunken revelers and the poor planners (like ourselves) waiting for public transportation to begin for the day. We finally caught a bus and two transfers and three hours later we arrived back at Brigids. All told it took us eight hours, a train ride and three buses to get the 40 miles from Gatwick to Brigids … Attitude, it’s the difference between an ordeal and an adventure. Brigid gave us a ride back up to Mildenhall and from there we caught a hop to Spokane and then a commercial flight to Denver and onto Mazatlan.

Southern Europe and Northern Europe are quite a contrast. Northern Europe is neat as a pin and very orderly. The countryside is placid and even voices seem more hushed. The general attitude is very somber and days usually end around 6 pm; stores close down and very little is left open. It’s quite a shock to go out in the early evening and to find nothing open. Southern Europe by contrast is far more earthy and boisterous; neatness is not a priority and everything is open to all hours of the morning.

November through mid-December

We returned to the boat for six weeks at which time we bought a new dinghy, removed the old bimini and Julie sewed a new one that fit on the solar panel struts. We went through the boat and sold off the things we had not been using like the air-conditioner, a seat pedestal I was going to use for a new table that I never built, the old dingy, the old bimini and the a couple of backpacks and suitcases. The boat is in outstanding shape and there is nothing more we can do to it. We’ve had lots of lookers but no offers yet.

mid-December through mid January

We returned to England to spend Christmas and New Years with the kids. Tim won’t make it, but Molly and her family (Bodhi and Keelyn) and Brigid and her fiancé (Justin), two of their shipmates (Ryan and Mark) and Justin’s Dad (Dave), will. We arrived a little early but all the others were caught by the snowstorm that hit Heathrow and stopped all inbound air traffic. Everybody’s airline got the word except for Ryan’s. Ryan was left high and dry in Washington D.C. for five days. Most everybody arrived just a couple of days prior to Christmas or on Christmas Eve. The snow at Heathrow was not bad at all (4 inches), but for some reason the British just froze (no pun intended) and were unable to cope. They simply shut everything down and did not move until the snow stopped. I can’t imagine what they’re going to do when they host the Olympics in 2012.

Brigids house was full with the ten of us, but we managed to share the chores and all of us got on very well. Christmas was quiet and enjoyable. The younger set (that’s everyone but me and Julie and Keelyn) went out a partied every night. New Years Julie had planned for all us to take the train from London to Edinburgh, Scotland for Hogmanay (Scotch New Year). The train ride was enjoyable and comfortable. Julie rented us a two-bedroom apartment for a week that we all piled into with abandon. Edinburgh is a castle town built on a high hill. It’s been around for centuries and has quite a rich history; Edinburgh has many famous sons; the story of Greyfriars Bobby really happened here; and, most recently, J.K. Rowlings authored her Harry Potter series in one of the local pubs (some of the characters names were even taken from the graveyard that is behind the pub). We spent a mad four days touring and drinking. We toured the castle and had lunch in one of the naves; took a whisky (scotch) distillery tour and had wee bit of the free samples; we took an informative and enjoyable walking tour of the city which is provided free by locals (who just love their city); we ate haggis, sausage, meat pies, Shepard’s pie and had meat on meat for dinner. We had deep fried Mars (candy) bars and visited thrift shops. At night the kids would cajole us into pub-crawls and trick us into playing their drinking games (kings cup was one I seem to remember). When they tired of us they dumped us at the apartment and made a be-line for the nightclubs where they would party ‘til five a.m. Edinburgh was a fabulous town and we’d go back there in a minute.

On News Years eve, after hooking up with one of Molly’s childhood friends, we joined in the festivities. We participated in a very long nighttime parade each of us holding a real fire torch and walking from the high street down to the waters edge where a Viking ship was ceremoniously burning. The parade was in remembrance of a Viking attack on the city (a millennium ago) in which the city was raped and pillaged. The citizens were able to rejoin, repel the invaders, killing them and burning their ships. After we had burned the ship to the ground and sent our Viking invaders to Hel (diferent spelling, same location), the parade participants milled about the low streets until midnight waiting for the fireworks display from the castle. It was spectacular; not the biggest and not the longest but certainly one of the best I’ve ever seen. Each display ignited below, in front-of, or above the castle bringing the castle to life, deftly illustrating a past glory. We all returned to London, via a New Years Day train ride, and within a couple days we had all departed London to whence we came.

Julie and I took a detour through Norway again on a Ryan Air. The fare from Gatwick to Oslo’s Rygge airport, terminating in Frankfurt, Germany was $30.00, each. We caught a bus downtown and checked into our tiny European hotel room. Oslo, too, is very friendly and easy to navigate. Our first night we went to dinner at a pizza shop. It was $60.00 for a medium pizza, beer and soda. Spendy no doubt, until we found out Norway has a 25% tax rate and unskilled labor makes wages equivalent to office personnel. Other things (health care and education) are government subsidized. Norway (as all the Scandinavian countries do) has a high tax rates, yet they are some of the happiest, and most prosperous countries in the world. We took rented sleds down the 1952 Olympic bobsled run; walked around Vigeland Sculpture Park; a sculpture park made as testament to the human condition - the largest of its kind created by a single artist (http://members.cox.net/c.kau/Vigeland/); walked by the royal palace; and, visited the local thrift shops.

We only spent two nights in Oslo and then flew out of Thorp Airport to Frankfurt, Germany. We had arranged for a hired car from Frankfurt to Ramstien AFB, but upon entering the terminal we could not find our driver. We found his van, but we could not find him. We looked up and down the terminal (it’s very small) and enlisted the help of the information counter, other cabbies, local constabulary and the office from which he was sent, all for naught. We looked for over an hour and a half. After beating his van with my fists thinking he was asleep inside, exasperated, frustrated and tired I went back into the terminal to find Julie with a German version of baby Huey in tow. It was our driver. He had been standing by the Ryan Air ticket counter (in the dark because it was closed) waiting for us. He had no sign identifying himself or placard with our names on it, as all the other hired cars did; he was not waiting at the terminal gate for our arrival as all the other drivers were; nor had he called back into his office to check on our status. I really think he would have waited forever. He provided us, I suppose as his revenge, one of the most frightening car rides I’ve ever experienced. It was night, it was snowing and cold, the roads were slick (icy in spots) and we were in a high-center-of-gravity van. He, this hired driver from hell, did not drop below seventy mph the entire two-hour trip. I have never been so thankful to get out of a moving vehicle in my life. After cleaning my britches and catching a good nights sleep we were able to catch a hop the next day from Ramstien to Dover, a hired car from Dover to BWI, and rent a car for the drive down to see Tim in North Carolina.

We drove down Friday and spent a couple of days with Tim at Camp Lejeune and catch up. He took us around the exciting burg of Jacksonville, NC and we had fried pickles for an appetizer one evening meal; read Tim’s facebook to see what he really thinks of NC. I was surprised it was so cold there and in one our forays between car and building I asked Tim why he wasn’t wearing a coat (he had his hands in his pockets and was shivering). We had picked him up at his barracks (where he had the proper clothing) so I thought it was an appropriate question. Peering at me over his shoulder, hands stuffed in his pockets he says with no inflection, “I have a couple layers of man on.” What is “man’ I ask myself, thinking its some sort of new gear issued? Then I say it out loud. He smirks and then I get it. Oh yea, you’re a tough guy, I forgot. I’ll give you a couple layers of man …

On Sunday we returned to Baltimore, turned in the car and spent the night in the airport. We’d arrived at the gate early for our flight with just the carry-on bags we've using since moving aboard ITCHEN. The gate attendant at BWI decided that that my backpack was too large; she immediately seized it and shipped it off. I was furious! I tried to show her how it scrunched down to fit within their parameters and explain to her and her supervisor that I had been using it for sometime without issue and on her airline, but in traditional airline manner they both thoroughly ignored me. I documented my complaint to US Airways customers service department and the response I received from them was they “had not yet implemented a procedure in which they could charge for baggage that is checked at the gate.” The airline people are absolute rubes! The lack of customer service is so ingrained that it has become culture. I would sincerely like to see the current batch of airlines go out of business. I have no doubt they would be replaced immediately by a more responsible and customer oriented faction.

mid January through the end of March

The winter remains unseasonably cold here in Mazatlan. We returned to the boat (despite US Airways) with not much to do but wait for a weather window south. We washed and waxed the boat and had the bottom cleaned. Within a week after waxing the topsides high winds came barreling down the Sea of Cortez (from a cold front in Colorado) and dusted the boat thoroughly with fine brown silt that seeped into every corner, crack and crevice. We hosed the boat down and cleaned it again including my going up the mast to clean the mainsail track and standing rigging. It’ll test a marriage when, suspended 50 feet in the air, clinging to the mast like a five year old clinging to his mothers leg the first day of kindergarten, ones pathetic and terrified screams fall on deaf ears as the spouse (who has your life in her hands controlling the halyard holding you 50 feet up the mast) is deep in frivolous conversation about whatever. It’s not as funny as you might think. I also pulled the running rigging (which did not require going up the mast) and soaked them in Downy fabric softener overnight. It makes the lines soft and pliable as a baby’s bottom. We watched our third Super Bowl here in Mazatlan. The righteous crowd that packed the bar at our first Super Bowl (in ’08) had dwindled to just a scattering of fans. The atmosphere was very subdued, but quite enjoyable.

We cleared Mazatlan and the boat ran perfectly. We did an overnighter to Bandaras Bay and arrived in La Cruz 27 hours after our departure from Mazatlan. We met ZEPPLIN (cruising friends from Mazatlan) in La Cruz and did a few nights on the town. La Cruz is growing steadily since we last visited two years ago. The marina has grown with the addition of more slips and a yard with haul out facilities (so far the reviews have been good); the plaza is cleaner and much more organized with a market every Sunday that has a variety of wares (straw hats, wool rugs and colorful bowls) and food stuffs (Cilantro Hummus, Amaretto Hummus, Raspberry and Tequila salad dressing, French Quiches, homemade baked goods, and an assortment of exotic condiments). La Cruz always had a a good selection of international restaurants but a few more have been added; quite cosmopolitan, this little village 20 miles around the inside of the bay from Puerto Vallarta (PV).

We departed for Nuevo Vallarta (a little further into the bay) and ZEPPLIN headed south for Panama and the Caribbean. Serendipitously, we docked right in front of a French acrobatic cruising couple. They perform acrobatics (for cruising funds) using their boat as the stage. We watched the two-hour performance from 30 feet away in the comfort of our cockpit, cocktails in hand. The couple used a long, narrow, white sheet, attached to the main halyard, which was hoisted up the mast as a central line and in all manner wrapped themselves in it; upside down, sideways, together, apart, hanging by one ankle then by one wrist; they scaled its white plumes then slowly spun, floated and careened their way down until they softly alighted on the deck. She (wisp that she was) tip toed along the top of the whisker pole while he (in a handstand) would reflect her every step, inverted, beneath her; altogether, a delightfully unplanned evenings entertainment. The next day we met with our boat broker to see if there was anything we could do to encourage the sale of the boat - during our six week stay in the PV area we’ve shown the boat fives times, overall between PV and Mazatlan we’ve shown it maybe 20 times in the past year. We think we’ve had more lookers than any other boat for sale in Mexico, but we’ve had no offers - he indicated that potential buyers report the boat is beautiful and they’re all are impressed with its beauty … go figure.

From Nuevo Vallarta we moved to the Iguana in PV thanks to PEPE (they were in the Baja Ha-Ha class of ’07 with us). We really had nothing better to do so we just hung there for a while, bothered PEPE, went to the movies, went downtown, and created projects on the boat. We changed the fender cover from white back to blue; I scrapped the paint off the deck handrails and cetoled them to their natural wood color; Julie sewed a new duvet for the back berth, pillow shams and a cover for the foam insert in the v-berth. We were walking around the malacon one lazy afternoon and as we rounded pooh corner (the name given to spot where the sewage effluent empties into the harbor and it smells like shit) we saw a 12-foot crocodile floating with his nose stuffed right up the pipe as the waste effluent trickled out (no wonder they've never evolved). We watched for a while and when the dull-witted beast refused to acknowledge our presence, or his rude behavior, we left. On our return we noted he was lazily swimming figure eights, a log in the water with nothing moving but his tail that waved monotonously slow back and forth (he was either burning off his recent meal or waiting for another). We were going to head south to Santiago Bay and Las Hadas but the reports indicated that it was awfully crowded and there were sixty boats in Bahia Navidad. The Banderas Bay Regatta was coming up so we thought we would stay put and catch any potential buyers that might drift by. At the last minute we wound up entering the Regatta.

Neither one of us had raced before nor did either one of us want to put the boat in jeopardy. We decided we would hang back and just watch … right! Julie is now not afraid of the boat listing and she has discovered a new side to her personality … she is really quite competitive. We had the bottom cleaned at the Iguana the day before and our sails are stiff, still practically brand new. I knew our Cherubini Hunter was a solid boat with a good turn of speed, but I had no idea how fast she really was or how high she could point. That said, on the first day we were 10 minutes late crossing the starting line and on the last day we were nine minutes late crossing … crossing the starting line in a timely manner is trickier than you might think. We were receiving the countdown on the VHF and our plan was to time our crossing at the very same instant the starting gun fired. When the gun fired we were half mile from the starting line going in the wrong direction. It was so bad that the committee boat called us and asked if ITCHEN was going to scratch … (ha-ha). We did cross the starting line and soon passed two boats, and before crossing the finishing line we had passed more. We were the last … the very last … to cross the starting line that day, but we were not the last in our class nor the last overall to finish. On that day we finished in fifth place.

In the third race, after carefully reviewing our mistakes, we were able to cross the starting line only nine minutes after every other boat in the fleet had done so; however, with our superior boat and mediocre sailing skills we were able to catch the entire fleet and pass many boats that had started in earlier classes, including all but two in our class. That day, the last day, we finished third in our class (two minutes behind the second place finisher). When the results were totaled we wound up third in our class and we received our very first international racing trophy.

After finally crossing the starting line on the right tack, on that final day, the boat heeled over nicely at 15 degrees. As it became apparent that were not only going to catch our competitors but pass them Julie began screaming, as she was standing (nearly upright) feet on the starboard seat, hands holding onto the port rails, “faster … faster!!! Catch those guys!! C’mon ITCHEN … Go girl! “ A sixty-five foot Macgregor slid up next to us, gunnels buried in the foaming sea and together we sailed toward the mark. As we approached the first mark for the second time we were in the center of the fleet, surrounded by sailboats; expensive and not so much so, long and short, one hull and more hulls, large crews and small crews all meeting at the buoy at the same time and we all wanted the shortest course around it. We could see fully into the cockpits and on the decks of the vessels closest to us; others we could only see the dark globes of their barrier painted hulls. The scene was surreal; looking in any given direction one could see the various working of a racing sailboat.

On our port, a burdened vessel pulled up to give right of way, bow crossing stern only feet and seconds from catastrophe. The sun midway through the afternoon sky created a collage of twinkling white clusters reflecting off the roiling sea and glistening hulls. The only sound to be heard was a distant beating of the wind as it furiously howled through the rigging and slammed into full enveloping sails. The crews were strung out along the decks in anticipation of the next heading, acting as living ballast. Each boat had dug a hole in the water equivalent to its displacement, heeled hard over, sails full and the sea next to the gleaming hulls still and listless moments before it erupted into a crashing wave. The vessels with a myriad of lines, sails, rigging and spars were at flawlessly opposing angles to each other … perfect symmetry ... frozen for just that instant. SNAP! An untended boom swung violently around, the clamor returned and vessels juggled for position and within moments we were all around the mark. Most sailed, I think we were swept around in pure exhilaration.

The second day of the regatta was canceled due to the Tsunami in Japan; eight-foot waves were predicted for the marinas in Banderas Bay. Each skipper had to make his own decision regarding the safety of his boat, but the general rule is almost any boat is safer at sea than in a harbor. The Mexican Port Captains in typical confusing fashion closed all the ports; then we found out that the closure only applied to commercial vessels. Many of us left the harbor, but just as many stayed. In the bay we could not feel the Tsunami wave as it rolled under us, but those who stayed in the marina noted first the turbulent currents in the harbor entrance followed by a rapid increase then decrease in harbors water level. In La Cruz marina the water rose then dropped 8 feet in 10 minutes. One pier was damaged, floating off the top, breaking the cement and wood finger like a toothpick and bending the thck iron pilings to which it was attached. It was an end pier with no boats moored to it, but had there been it could have easily created a domino effect causing much more damage than it did. That is the only damage we heard of to either boats or marinas in the bay.

More pathetic were the events that occurred after the Tsunami. For the regatta we had all been instructed to remove our anchors so they didn’t catch in the opening ceremony, which included a parade of the sixty boats in fairly close quarters with minimal maneuvering room. Other boats removed propane tanks, anchor chain and other heavy items that might slow the boat down or be in the way. The Regatta is billed more as a rally where “cruisers can race their homes,” but we all know if there are two sailboats on the water you can bet they’re in a race. Many of the racers are serious and had flown in crew from the States and elsewhere. Many vessels were flat out race boats and had crews of nine or more. The prediction was; the tsunami would arrive around 1300 (local). The assumption was; we would be able to return the harbor soon after. That was not to happen; while the tsunami arrived right on time the return to our respective harbors was anything but timely and orderly. It was reported that the sustained currents in the harbors entrances had strong undertows and they sometimes reached 12 knots (faster than most sailboats are able to power out of). Even so, Marina Vallarta opened their harbor entrance around 1700 and the boats in that harbor were able to return to their slips, without incident. La Cruz tried to open but quickly shut back down, due to the strength of the undertows, currents and dock damage. Nuevo Vallarta and Paradise Village marinas (where we berthed for the regatta) were the most dysfunctional. We were headed back to the marina later in the afternoon and saw several vessels enter the harbor. They had no trouble and we put ourselves in position to follow. The harbormaster came over the VHF and announced that the harbor was closed. Puzzled as several boats had entered without difficulty, vessels radioed back inquiring why they were not being allowed to enter. The harbormaster took umbrage to their inquires and soon the communication became fractured and the harbormasters credibility was shot. Eventually, boats tried to enter the harbor again and the harbormaster was heard screaming on the VHF for them to stop and turn around. He or his staff was seen frantically waving on the jetty at boats that violated his edict. He actually forced those boats to turn around in the narrow harbor entrance with stone jetties on either side and currents that, according to him, were un-navigable. Turning in a harbor entrance is a daunting task for any sailboat under the best circumstances. We talked with those boats as they returned to the bay and asked them the conditions on the harbor entrance. They said they had no problem going in and only turned around because the harbormasters antics on the jetty, his vehement screaming over the VHF and the fear of a fine or legal problems. To listen to him scream on the radio and demean the skippers was truly pitiable. After a time, most boats left to anchor off La Cruz. At 1930, the harbormaster very quietly, over the VHF, announced the harbor entrance was open. We went in, at dark, in absolutely calm water. Many of those vessels that left (to anchor off La Cruz) were without the needed equipment and had few provisions for their crews. They spent just one more cold and hungry night at sea.

The rest of time in Banderas Bay was split between the Iguana and La Cruz visiting and catching up with fellow cruisers JAKE, SAUCY LADY, MOON DANCE and HOULIGAN.

We departed La Cruz (despite the fuel dock not having any fuel) and headed north. Our first night we anchored behind Isla La Pena (a tiny rock island) off Jaltemba in Guayabitos Cove, just around the bend from Banderas Bay. It was predictably rolly (not as bad as La Cruz) but irritating enough. We departed the next morning (with overcast skies) for Mantanchen Bay (just south of San Blas). We’ve never stopped in this area coming down, so this is all new for us.

Mantanchen bay is large, shallow, surprisingly protected bay and reminds me a little of Skagit Bay in the Puget Sound. We anchored there at 1430 and four other boats trickled in throughout the afternoon, but we didn’t talk and the anchorage was uneventful. From Mantanchen Bay we motored two hours around the corner to San Blas. Natives have inhabited the San Blas area for thousands for years. It was founded in 1531 and reestablished in 1768 by none other than Father Junipero Serra of California Missions and Camino Real fame and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in the poem The Bells of San Blas immortalizes the town. Singlar has a marina here and we’ve wanted to stop before but were discouraged by reports about the entrance being tricky and the place being really buggy. The bugs are no-see ums or jejenes and get their name because they are so small you can’t see them to kill them; they bite you, lay their eggs just under the skin and when the spawn hatch it cause’s a terrible itch. They don’t do any damage other than the irritating itch and the good size welt they leave. We entered the clearly marked channel after crossing a five-foot sandbar without event and encountered hardly any bugs. Serendipitously, we met cruising friends, DECADE DANCE, whom we had sailed with in Greece this past fall and spent two days catching up with them.

After wringing the good times out of San Blas we sailed up to and anchored off tiny Isla Isabella, a Mexican national bird and wildlife sanctuary. It’s a very small island (about a mile long), which has been documented on film by Jacques Cousteau and National Geographic. It is billed as a must see for cruisers sailing in Mexico; in addition, it is used as an anchorage in the long trips back and forth between PV and either Mazatlan or La Paz. At 0230 the next morning in the windless, moonless dark we quietly hoisted the anchor, slid our way between the nine other boats anchored there, and gingerly picked our way amidst the myriad of fishing buoys as we set course for Mazatlan. Julie took the first watch and I relieved her at 0600; fifteen hours after making weigh we arrived Mazatlan. We hope to be here briefly for bottom paint and then sail north into the sea for Puerto Escondido and Loretta Fest; but the yard may have a different idea. That will be another posting

Mazatlan and Points North

2010-05-25T12:57:00.000-07:00

Salt Recovery Ponds

1 March - 12 May 2010 Mazatlan and Points North

March - Departed Mazatlan for another shakedown and to do an overnight off Stone Island. Stone Island is really a peninsula south of Mazatlan’s old harbor entrance; a two- hour trip from the marina. While anchored there we met up with BRENDON and PACIFIC JADE for drinks on the beach. BRENDON tried to talk us into going north and accompanying them into the Sea of Cortez for the summer. We were adamant about not going as we had already spent a summer in the sea and generally, just too much time in Mexico. We were all prepared to head south.

On the way to the south harbor I noticed some squealing noise in the engine and we were taking an excessive amount of water into the engine bilge. We decided to head back to the yard for repairs. In the meantime BRENDON was successful in their persuasion for us to go north, into the sea with them. Argh!!! This is cruising and all plans are made in jello. We have other things we want to do and a couple of events happening back home, so it’s just a matter of reprioritizing the bucket list … again.

Turns out the leak was coming from the fairings that Hunter had put between the hull and rudder. The screws holding the fairings in place were drilled all way through the hull (with a couple of extra holes just for good measure). We had the boat hauled, screws removed, cleaned out the holes, let them dry and filled them with fiberglass and covered with epoxy. The boat spent the night in the sling and we went out to dinner with SAUCY LADY and SULA.

The next morning we splashed at 0830 and went back to our old slip to await any further problems. We topped off with fuel and water, cleaned the boat and planned to meet BRENDON at the harbor entrance at 0500.

Thursday, 4 March 2010
0445 - Cast off to meet BRENDON and head across the sea to La Paz; weather calm, flat seas. Proceeded north for about 30 miles and turned west for La Paz. Raw water pump is leaking rusty water (about a pint every three hours) and I think the packing gland might be leaking … I don’t know but the leaks are getting tiresome.

Friday, 5 March 2010
1245 – Arrive Los Muertos, despite its name it’s a charming anchorage protected from the north. We dinghied into the swank little beach palapa for a sandwich and beer. The harbor used to be a gold mining site so we toured what few ruins were left, made note of a couple of RV’s that were down early in the season, chatted with fisherman that had caught a 30 pound tuna and made our way back to the boats for an early evening.

Saturday, 6 March 2010
0600 – Depart Muertos at dawn for a run up Cerralvos Channel to La Paz; wind rising from the west. BRENDON is running a reefed main and I’m running with just my headsail. We round Punta Arenas and the wind and seas start to rise; estimated wind was 20 knots and seas two to three feet. We were on a beam reach doing 8.5 knots under a reefed headsail alone. Arrive marina Palmira, La Paz at 1530.
We planned to stay in La Paz for a week prior to heading into the sea. I went to replace the leaking raw water pump and discovered I didn’t have the spare. I remembered talking with Rafa about it in Mazaltan and Bob had even asked me if I had the spare water pump (they had rebuilt it) and I assured him I did. I contacted TYW and they expedited the water pump to me. I changed out the water pump and alternator belt (as it couldn’t be tightened enough) and still I had some errant squeals, but the leaks were gone. BRENDON discovered the squeals were in the belts. We retightened them and all seems in good order. I took the other pump in to be rebuilt.

We rented a car and drove down to the Costco in Cabo to provision for the sea. It was a little dicey getting everything for two boats into the little sub-compact automobile. During our time in La Paz, we walked, went out for dinner, attended dock parties, refueled, topped off with water and headed into the sea a week and a day after we arrived.

March in the Sea – It’s remarkably cold in the sea this time of year. Not so cold that we’re in long pants, but occasionally we put on a jacket and definitely blankets at night. Since January, I have seen more rain and wind in Mexico than I’ve seen in the previous two years. The wind is quite plentiful, not just breezy, but at, or just below, gale force. We’re hopping from harbor to harbor in the calms and then batten down for a couple of days while the “Northerners” blow over. Our anchorages protect us from the fetch (building waves) but there is little we can do to keep the wind from growling through the spreaders.

At our anchorage in Calita Partida we got to messing around with the outboard engines and dinghies. Both of us have RIB’s. BRENDON has an aluminum hull and an eight horsepower engine, versus my fiberglass hull and 9.9 horsepower engine, and both dinghies are about 10.5 feet long. BRENDON’s dinghy and engine weigh 30lbs less than mine. After multiple days of in-water testing, objective evaluation of the collected data, a complete review of the statistical analysis (and a good deal of fun) we’ve decided (or at least I have) the following;
DINGHY -
- PRO’s - the fiberglass dinghy is sturdier than the aluminum dinghy;
- the fiberglass dinghy is easier to repair than the aluminum dinghy;
- and, the fiberglass dinghy tows much easier than the aluminum dinghy.
- CON’s - the fiberglass dingy is heavier than the aluminum dinghy.
ENGINE -
- the eight horsepower engine will get both dinghies up on a plane;
- it is more fuel efficient;
- and, it is lighter for lifting and storage
- CON’s – the eight horsepower engine is far slower than the 9.9, but it should be noted that the increased speed of the 9.9 hp, because of comfort and safety, can only be used in optimum conditions.

We’ve sailed farther north and anchored in Isla San Francisco. We’re in for a blow over the next couple of days and tried to depart San Francisco for San Evaristo, nine nautical miles (nm) west northwest. Even though we could see white caps in the channel we thought we’d make a run for it. At the anchorage the wind was from the North, but in the sea the wind was coming from the west. We were taking it right in the nose doing only one-and-a-half knots. After 35 minutes of bashing we decided we weren’t that committed to getting to San Evaristo and turned tail from whence we came. Our speed went from 1.5 knots (bashing) to 7 knots as soon as our stern was to the wind. We rode out the wind in Isla San Francisco and parceled up our days with trips to shore, a couple of chilly swims and movies at night.

We did make it to San Evaristo (I’ve already described this port on our last trip into the Sea) and again anchored safely for a few days while another set of northerners blew over. While in Evaristo I fixed the propeller on the outboard. The rubber bearing on my propeller had worn out. Instead of shear pins the propellers have rubber poured and compressed into the space between the shaft tube and the actual propeller. If the prop hits bottom rather than bending the prop or breaking the shear pin, the prop spins around the shaft tube on its rubber bearing. After fifteen years and who knows how much grounding, the prop bearing had finally worn out leaving the propeller to slip in all but the lowest of speeds. BRENDON and I had attempted to fix the prop in Partida by digging out part of the old rubber bearing and pouring marine-tek into the gap. It worked just fine until the first time I revved up the outboard. Then we drilled three holes (one hole between each blade) through the prop, rubber bearing and shaft tube. We tapped the holes with threads and screwed into each hole a 1/8” steel bolt with a nut already on it. We filed the bolt smooth in the shaft tube, tightened the nut on the bolt (securing the prop to the shaft tube) and cut the bolt head off. That worked as well, right up until I grounded out going onto the beach. Finally, I repeated what we had done above (digging out, re-pouring, drilling, tapping and screwing) except this time I used ¼” bolts. It is holding fine, but the real fix is getting a new prop (I’ll use this one for a backup).

We departed San Evaristo and went across the channel to an island that used to be a salt recovery flat. The enterprise has been abandoned for many years, the buildings are falling down and the heavy equipment is quietly rusting away. The flats are about 5 square acres, adjacent to the sea with neat rows of rectangular depressions (like shallow graves dug prior to occupancy). The flats are surrounded with high burms to prevent the incursion of seawater. Somehow (and this is what I can’t figure out in exploring the flats) the seawater is let in, collects only in the depressions and evaporates leaving small ponds of salt (the big crystals you pay extra for at the store). On our visit there, some ponds were empty, others were filled with salt and still others had both salt and water in them. The ponds with just salt are a glimmering white; those ponds with salt and water were an ice blue and could easily be mistaken for glacial ice pack.

At the south end of the same island is a mangrove swamp (I spoke to this on our last visit here, as well). As an update the dead whale that was stuffed back into a cul-de-sac is gone. We buzzed though the swamp canals and this time, instead of going back, we exited at the east end of the swamp and went around the south tip of the island to return to the boats. ITCHEN is running beautifully. Everything is working well and the solar panels are keeping up with our power consumption nicely. There is still a small amount of water in the engine bilge. It’s intermittent and not really enough to worry about. I’ll get to it, but I think it’s the packing gland and may resolve itself.

We worked our way south and back to La Paz stopping again Isla San Francisco and then Playa Bonanza (on the back side of Partida). The weather reports indicted high winds (40 Knots) and Bonanza looked like the best anchorage to dodge the wind. On our way to Bonanza, the winds piped up early, off our sterns. We had a sleigh ride into the anchorage and at one point hit 10.5 knots. We tucked into the anchorage early afternoon and the wind just kept building. It was routinely 30-35 knots with gusts of 40. We were close enough to shore that we didn’t get a lot of fetch, but still the wind had us rocking and rolling. There were five boats, roughly the same tonnage and length, in the anchorage. Two of them dragged and at least two of them put out second anchors. I wanted to see just how well my new Rocna anchor would do and did not put out a second anchor on purpose. BRENDON and I went out and did an anchor check and could see his Danforth buried, but the Bruce was still visible. We couldn’t see any of my anchor and a good length of chain leading up to it. My little 22-pound Rocna anchor held like we were tied to the earth itself. For two days and nights we bobbed around in the high winds. On the third day the winds abated somewhat and we were able to launch the dinghy and go ashore and get together with BRENDON for a domino game called Mexican Train.

Tuesday, 30 March 2010
0700 - Depart Bonanza for La Paz, clear skies and calm seas. Arrive Marina Palmira 1010; out for 16 days; 84.6 engine hours; used ¼ tank of fuel, and 75 gallons of water.

31 March, 12 April 2010
Marina Palmira, La Paz – Rebuilt salon table (it’s now a double wide) with help from BRENDON; cleaned the water tanks; changed the fresh water pump and took the old one to be rebuilt; installed a water filtration system and a new fluorescent light in the salon. Put the third reef in the main, straightened out the stack pack, installed new sheets on the headsail and a new furling line. Got a new prop for the outboard and an extension handle for the throttle. Discovered my VHF signal was deteriorating and after several trips up the mast with the help of BRENDON and TRAVELER it may be fixed. Julie made new pillows for the salon and a bed sham for the V-berth. We had some rousing nights of Mexican Train, dinner in, dinner out, guests over for dinner and went to other boats for dinner as guests. We even took one more trip to Cabo and Costco. It remains cool and the wind blows constantly.

Tuesday, 13 April 2010
0830 – Filled with diesel, gasoline, propane, water, food and beer. We’ll head north into the sea … maybe as far as Santa Rosalia and plan on working our way back south to La Paz stopping at Loretta fest in Puerto Escondido and all the tiny anchorages in between.
1000 – Cleared the channel and closed reached under main alone. Winds build to 20 knots and seas 4-6 feet. Once or twice took green water over the deck. Boat well balanced and autopilot handling helm with little effort. Radio has limited range and needs more repair.

14 - 20 April 2010
Working our way up the Baja to Santa Rosalia. Winds out of the south - southeast … good sailing runs doing 6.5 - 7 knots under headsail or main alone … easy runs and splendid days sailing. HALE MOANA joined us from San Francisco to Escondido. Overnighted in San Evaristo, Aqua Verde, Escondido, San Juanico and Bahia Conception (Playa Burro). Leak appears to be coming from PSS bellows at shaft tube. Will tighten hose clamp on bellows and repair radio in Santa Rosalia. Arrive Santa Rosalia 1500; engine hours 132.6; estimate fuel usage at 31 gallons, burning 0.65 gallons/hour at 2800 rpm.

21 - 23 April 2010
Stay in Santa Rosalia was uneventful, unless you count pelicans and boobies using the boat for target practice. I would clean the boat off during the day and by night the birds would practice strafing runs on all the canvas and deck. It’s amazing they hold so much shit!! I did go up the mast a couple more times attempting to improve our antenna, hence radio reception.

24 April – 4 May, 2010
Departed Santa Rosalia for Escondido to take part in Loretta fest. Arrived at Punta Chivato only because the beaches are supposed to loaded with shells … they were. Chivato is an isolated beach community 12 very treacherous miles off the beaten path. It has a dozen or so houses, a landing strip (of sorts) and swanky hotel/resort. While walking on the beach we met with a couple that owned one of the houses. Earlier in the month they had noticed a fishing panga periodically coming ashore late in the evening. They watched and decided it was fisherman camping out for the night (which is a common sight). One morning they awoke to discover their little Cessna was gone. They think it was druggies in the panga that stole their plane … bummer dude.

We arrived in Escondido after the usual stops at Playa Burro (Bahia Conception) and San Juanico (where we left our boat name at the cruisers memorial). At Escondido we joined over 100 other boats and met up with lots of cruising friends we’d lost contact with over the past couple of seasons. Puerto Escondido hosts Loretta fest, which is three-day picnic with beer, hot dogs and games. They also conduct classes on fishing, bread making, first aide, etc. and hold a silent auction. Any money generated from the activities goes to the local schools for texts and uniforms. While there we took a long hike up one the mountain ravines. We followed the dry riverbed up and climbed over huge boulders and stumbled onto quiet pools of water nestled into the base of rocks that had been smoothed out by torrents of water. The power of water and flash flooding that occurred in this canyon was truly impressive. I don’t know how it happened though in this very dry desert that only gets 5.6 inches of rain annually.

5 – 6 May 2010
We departed Escondido for La Paz and ultimately Mazatlan. On the way to La Paz, I discovered our VHF was only transmitting about one-and-half miles. The only thing left to do was to change out the antenna. Julie fished on the way down but she got skunked. BRENDON, whom we were traveling with, was fishing as well and he was skunked too. We arrived at La Paz early enough in the afternoon that I was able to run up to the chandlery and pick up the fresh-water pump I had left for repair and a new antenna. BRENDON helped me back up the mast and I had the antenna replaced in five minutes. We can now comfortably talk with Japanese fishing boats off the coast of Korea, as well as hearing all the bleed over from other channels, every Mexican that owns a VHF radio and some intergalactic chatter. I bought the antenna from hell, who knew? The lesson I learned from this is sometimes it’s better to do the easiest, not the cheapest, thing first (and one can’t be too specific in what one wishes for).

7 – 12 May 2010
We departed La Paz bright and early this morning and went around the corner (nine hours in sailboat time) to Bahia de Los Muertos. The next night was spent in Frailles before needing to duck into San Jose del Cabo for fuel. San Jose del Cabo is a brand new marina half way between Cabo San Lucas and La Paz. The marina is rather spendy and when we mentioned what we thought was an inflated price we paid for the slip (without power), the harbor mistress quite proudly proclaimed that only Cabo San Lucas (at $137.00/night with a discount) was more expensive … humph!!!

At the marina entrance to del Cabo I was overtaken by a huge power cruiser who cared little about his speed or wake. I tried to block him, as he was the burdened vessel, but he went around me and we took his wake on our beam from less than a boat length away and commenced 60-degree port and starboard rolls. The crew was fairly mouthy when we passed them pulling up to the fuel dock. That evening we went out to dinner and guess who was at the table next to us? We (BRENDON and I) took turns tag teaming our power cruiser friend (and his mouthy little wife) about his dangerous seamanship and his responsibility regarding his wake. In fairly short order he apologized and promised to be more aware of his wake, other vessels and approaches. He seemed contrite and I think this may work out for everyone.

We departed del Cabo for the thirty-hour crossing to Mazatlan. The boat ran marvelously and we talked with people (on the VHF) in both Mazatlan and La Paz during the entire passage. We arrived at Marina El Cid (an all-inclusive resort) on Tuesday afternoon. For $333.00/month we have American TV (dockside), two pools with multiple happy hours and outdoor movies on Tuesday and Thursday nights. We bought a window air conditioner for the boat and plan to stay here all summer.

A final note - I don’t think I’ll be writing much for the next couple of months, as our cruising adventures will be limited between the pool and the bar. We’ve also decided to sell ITCHEN. We originally purchased and outfitted the boat for world cruising; starting with crossing the pacific. If you followed this blog you’re aware of the events that initially impeded us making the jump. What we have discovered in the ensuing period is that we enjoy coastal cruising much more than long passages. We’re not one bit sorry we purchased this boat, nor made the improvements on it. It’s an absolutely stunning vessel with lots of water yet to run under her keel, but frankly we’ve motored 95% of the time. The trawler I had prior to ITCHEN was three feet shorter (with same beam), had a lot more living space and did not have nearly the maintenance. We plan to continue cruising into the foreseeable future and we will ultimately go to a trawler (there’s a growth and development saying in the cruising community … one goes from a sailboat, to a motorboat, to a motor home and finally a nursing home). Since we motor most of the time, we both like a trawler, and ITCHEN, on which everything except, the hull, mast and boom, is new. She is currently worth the most she ever will be, thus our decision to make the transition now. If she doesn’t sell, we’re perfectly happy and will continue our cruising south, through the canal, do the Caribbean and then the ICW. If she does sell then we’ll try to purchase a boat on the west coast; if purchased in Seattle we’ll do the Inside Passage and then go south and pick up where we left off. If purchased further south in California we’ll start from there and head south for the canal, etc and then do the great circle, stopping in Missouri and having the boat trucked from St. Louis to Seattle, and then do the Inside Passage. If you follow this blog we’ll continue it with the new boat. Either way new adventures await us. So long for now.

1 January - 17 February, 2010 Mazatlan and Mardi Gras

2010-02-26T22:24:00.000-08:00

She did not get the boa for free ...

Everybody ... Everything ... got beads

Julie with a few of her favorite beads and the leather mask she bought in Mazatlan for Mardi Gras

Our haul of beads

Julie, typically, finding herself between the Angels of light and darkness - arms wrapped tightly around both

Julie with one of the revelers

... a typical parade scene ...

January – Julie finished working in Ellensburg and dehydrating her bison jerky and fruit. We had two suitcases filled with jerky and dried fruit when we boarded the plane for Denver. We’ll spend a couple of weeks in Colorado skiing and then return to the boat.

We rented a condo in Keystone for three days and the skiing was great. Not sure how much longer we’ll continue skiing though; it just doesn’t have the zip it used too. Tim and Amy (his fiancé) flew into CO and spent a couple of day with us. Tim had been deployed to Iraq and Amy just returned from a deployment (she’s a Marine too). Tim was telling us about Camel Spiders (http://www.camelspiders.net) an arachnid peculiar to that latitude of the world. They are startling to look at, quite large and can run as fast as a human. Tim says that many of the US Forces think the spiders are chasing them, but they are only trying to get into the shade your body creates, “because it fuckin’ hot out there.”

Apparently one of the new Marines, unaccustomed to this scary little creature, encountered a Camel Spider in the laundry facility. Being a good Marine, he adapted, improvised and overcame. In short, he opened up on the camel spider with his 5.56mm, M-16 assault rifle. He took several shots from over head and then pumped a couple of rounds beneath the washers and dryers where the spider had taken cover. Gunfire inside the compound is taken seriously and half the camp came charging from their tents convinced there had been a breach in the compound. Security quickly found the source of the gunfire and separated the vigilant Marine from his weapon. The spider was never found, but several washers and dryers took direct hits.

We returned to Mexico with only a slight glitch in our flight and made it through customs even though we got the red light. We were worried about all of the dehydrated goodies Julie had made, but the customs agent did a cursory check of our luggage and sent us on our way.

Prior to sailing south, we decided we wanted to go the Copper Canyon as we had heard from many cruisers about its spectacular beauty. The Copper Canyon is a series of canyons, larger than the Grand Canyon and deeper in spots. To get there we took a six-hour bus ride from Mazatlan to Los Mochis, spent the night in a hotel and then hopped aboard a train for another 10-hour ride to Creel, in the State of Chihuahua, MX, at the top of the Copper Canyon.

Public transportation in Mexico is excellent and very comfortable. The buses are huge; toilets are clean; coffee is available; seats recline with plenty of legroom, including built in leg rests to support your calves; and, movies are played in English and Spanish. The train, which runs through the Copper Canyon between Los Mochis and Chihuahua, is equally clean, comfortable and includes a bar and dining car.

While the transportation was priced right and very relaxing, the Copper Canyon itself turned out to be not so terrific. Take this with a grain of salt though as we are the only cruisers, that we know, that didn’t think it was spectacular. The train trip through the canyon reminded me of driving through the foothills of the Rockies. The tour from our hotel in Creel was equally as routine and included 12 of us packed into a 10-passenger van with a mute driver. We stopped at a lake (?); we hiked to a barely running waterfall; we took pictures of rock formations that looked like various animals, and … well you get the picture. We visited with the Tarahumara Indians (natives of the area) and purchased some baskets from them. While it wasn’t a complete bust, it’s not something I would not recommend; again we’re in a minority. (Addendum - After talking with several other cruisers who have been to the Copper Canyon it seems El Fuerte (home of Zorro), San Rafael and Divisadaro are the stops to make. For more information on the Copper Canyon go to; Wikipedia; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copper_Canyon.

February - Upon our return, Julie had several bad days with a toothache. Rather than starting south we decided it prudent to get her tooth fixed. Her first dental appointment resulted in a referral to have a root canal. The next day we went to the Endodontist and he, painfully, removed a bridge Julie had installed 20 years ago. The crown on the tooth had perforated and the Endodontist was unable to do the root canal, as the tooth was too badly decayed. He sent Julie back to the original dentist, who pulled her tooth the next day (day three). I gave Julie some hydrocodone for pain and she has been happily sleeping with brief visiting periods. The pain is still there; she just doesn't care. She’ll wait a couple of months, for the bone to heal, before deciding if she wants to have an implant. The whole thing cost less than $300 (US).

In the meantime, the boats engine needed its 1000-hour check-up; part of which is checking the shaft alignment. In trying to align the shaft the yard discovered it was bent. No man wants a shaft out of alignment and certainly not bent! The boat will need to be hauled and either the engine removed or the ruder dropped to repair/replace the shaft. Getting entangled in fishing line, hitting something or strap misplacement when hauling out can bend the shaft. The first two I know didn’t happen to us, so the shaft either go bent on haul-out or it came from the foundry that way (it was new when I re-powered two years ago). The delay is OK as Julies’ tooth pain has not quite subsided and she wants to recover the cushions in the salon. This will give us chance to do those things.

Some months ago we planned a trip to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We’ve attended Carnival (another name for Mardi Gras) here in Mazatlan, which is the third largest pre-Lent festival in the world; Rio being the largest and New Orleans being the second largest. Mardi Gras/Carnival is celebrated all over the world; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnival. Our original intention was to sail the boat to Puerto Vallarta (PV), fly to New Orleans and return to PV, but with the boat out of commission (shaft problem) we needed to adjust. We took an all night bus ride to PV to catch our flight to New Orleans (while in PV we visited with cruising friends PEPE and BRENDAN, who we met on the “Ha-Ha.”)

In New Orleans, we stayed in the French Quarter - three blocks from Bourbon Street. We arrived on Friday night and the festivities had been going on for the past week as the Saints had won the Super Bowl. Bourbon Street was packed with revelers every night and most of the day. The music was loud, the liquor was flowing freely and partying was hearty! While the crowd was well lubricated, everyone remained polite and courteous. It was surprisingly cold in New Orleans. The skies were clear but the temperatures were in the mid 30’s to 40’s (not very conducive to flashing). Even so, the girls (and guys) were flashing away … from 18 to 80 … everyone participated. Julie had a special request to flash her magnificent breasts and she was rewarded suitably with three unique sets of beads. She took her time and allowed many pictures to be taken. Many women, even though it was cold, were shirtless but body painted. They were so well camouflaged that Julie had to (I’m ashamed to admit) repeatedly point them out to me. At times we were part of a mob and barely able to negotiate the direction we wished to go. The police were ever-present but did not inhibit the festivities. Those few characters that did get out of line were quickly sorted out with a stern reprimand (one young man was even put on his knees, facing the wall, for a quick time-out) and then sent on their way, penitent for their transgressions.

The parades were numerous and endless. Anyone who wanted to could be in a parade. The parade participants that passed us went something like this; float, marching band, costume dance troop, Chevrolet pickup, police car, suburban, a couple of guys walking, budget rental truck, military marching troop, spare tractor, float, etc. Some of the floats were quite ornate and the beads flew plentiful from them … sometimes a gentle loft into the crowd and other times a fastball right down the middle. Julie got nailed in the mouth with an errant pitch (high and inside), but she's OK ... no damage. A guy standing behind me got nailed with some big beads that nearly knocked him on his kester. We attended only three parades (two during the day and one at night) for several hours each, but didn’t stay to the end of any of them.

We've been to several restaurants here in the French Quarter for gumbo, crawfish étouffée, jambalaya and a beef po' boy. All of the food was either soupy and/or cold. I’m told gumbo has sausage and shrimp in it; mine did not; I was able to discern some mashed okra though. My po’boy was cold beef beneath two halves of Swiss cheese with a tablespoon of cold beef gravy on the cheese; the bun was good though. Julies crawfish étouffée had two tiny crawfish tails in it the size of the end of your little finger and her jambalaya was spicy (hot), tomato … something. We gave up and went back to McDonalds for our meals.

The stores in New Orleans are mostly closed during Mardi Gras. The nicer restaurants; K-Paul, Spagos, Emerils and Dickie Brennans were all closed. Many stores closed because they were on one of the parade routes. However, we were told, most stores closed because it was too hard for them to get and retain help during Mardi Gras, so they just gave up and closed for the festivities. We took a paddleboat tour up the Mississippi and our taxi driver took us to where the dike broke. It is amazing that almost the entire city is built below the water line of the surrounding lakes and rivers. Go figure ...

Mardi Gras is a vacation we would both repeat.

3 October - 30 December, 2009 Mazatlan (again)

2010-02-08T23:59:00.000-08:00

Itchen with her spiffy new paint job at a 20 degree starboard list while still tied to the dock during Hurricane Rick.

This is the boat that snapped its bowlines and was adrift until the pilings stopped it.

This boat has so little freeboard that the rails are sliding under the dock. Look at the picture and you can see it lift up the end of the dock.

Itchens new counter tops

October - Danny (a childhood friend) and I drove to Mazatlan, with overnights in Phoenix, AZ and Obregon, MX. Driving down to Mazatlan was like old times. Each of us could easily have been 10 years old and ditching catechism to go to Rogers Donut Shop (which is how we met). We’ve known one another for 47 years and still we have to check each other from getting into trouble. Long-term friends are a rarity.

In Arizona, they have a plethora of radar camera cars, parked along the highway, to measure vehicles’ speed. They also have sensing devices in the road that measures vehicular speed … so they say. The magic road that measured my speed sent me a speeding ticket. I didn’t know I’d received a speeding ticket until Julie told me about it two weeks later. It arrived in the mail; $180.00 and not a damn thing I can do about it!

We arrived in Mazatlan Monday afternoon in oppressive heat and sweltering humidity. We were told that the worst was over and the current heat was paradise compared to the summer. I don’t know why they just don’t build this country on the sun. The boat was in the water and looked pretty spiffy with her new paint job. We began to refit her with all the gear Julie and I had taken off in May. Holy crap it’s a big job, so much to unpack and remember where it went and how! The boat was insect free and there was no damage save one book (the books were the only thing we hadn’t put in plastic bags). We settled in to getting the boat up to speed, installing the new items and opening, operating, lubricating, filling and cleaning everything else. Danny stayed until the end of the week when he flew back to Colorado

Just after Danny left I became ill with intestinal problems, which laid me up for a week. A couple of days before Danny departed, we were invited for dinner to QUATRO VIENTOS, a massive 53-foot Force 50 ketch, moored next to us. Our hosts were British, and they have no concept of moderation when it comes to alcohol. Throughout dinner and well into the evening, I proceeded (actually it’s their fault) to get completely trashed. I was so drunk when we returned to the boat, that when I lay down in my berth the boat began spinning, like a top. At first I thought I might die, and then I was afraid I might not. The next day I was a little under the weather and it got progressively worse. By the end of the week I was pretty much incapacitated, hovering near the bathroom with severe diarrhea. After five more days of doing, and eating nothing I convinced myself I had amoebic dysentery. I decided it was time to go to the Doctor. The secretary at Total Yacht Works (the boat yard) Julie, called the physician’s office for me in the morning and by that afternoon I had been seen and treated.

During my confinement, I had been talking with Chuck about my illness, but inadvertently failed to confess my drunken escapade. When I did, he quickly discovered that my current illness was precipitated by the alcoholic binge I had (and Danny did not) on QUATRO VEINTOS. Chuck discovered that my alcohol consumption, that night, was enough to strip my bowel of its protective mucosal layer. There were some contaminants in my water tanks, not enough to make one sick under normal circumstances, but in my delicate condition, I became susceptible to the little vermin. Thankfully, the physician I saw was not swayed by my authoritative diagnosis and treated me correctly, even though I failed to tell him, as well, about my drinking binge. Upon my recovery, I immediately sterilized my water tanks.

As a side note and in my estimation, the health and dental care in Mexico is as good, more accessible and far less expensive than equivalent care in the US. I’ve seen fellow cruisers undergo major operations, receive chemotherapy and healthcare for chronic conditions with little or no problem. In my case, within hours of initially requesting an appointment, I was seen, given the necessary exam, diagnosed and treated. The physicians’ visit, the three medications, and the follow-up lab work cost a little under $70.00 US, from soup to nuts. I cannot think of anytime I’ve received care that quickly, in the US (anyone who has spent time in a US emergency room or tried to get a physicians appointment can attest to that).

In my defense, I’ve only been that drunk three times in my life (two since we’ve been cruising) and I don’t like it! In all fairness, the last two times, really, were not my fault! I would never do this to myself. I’m not a heavy drinker, but these … these … professional drinkers sneak up on me and take advantage of my good nature and innocence.
1) I must resolve to be more vigilant when the liquor starts flowing like water and I must carefully watch the amount of alcohol that is being poured into my glass.
2) I must always remind myself that the cruising community consumes huge, voluminous, capacious, large and sizeable amounts of alcohol.
3) I must know that cruisers are clever in developing ways to expedite their alcohol consumption (including two boats that have installed five-gallon tanks complete with electric pump and permanently mounted bulkhead spigot) in an effort to minimize time wasted in opening a bottle. In this last case I must admit, a high degree of style is awarded for creativity.

I recovered and resumed my chores. I cleaned the hull and deck of the boat yesterday; the first time since I’ve returned. I just had a bad afternoon of it. The chore was labor intensive and unusually unrewarding. I got the boat painted to avoid this type of work in the first place and here I was cleaning the deck a second time in the same day as almost none of the stains on my brand new non-skid came off the first time. I was frustrated and pissed. Midway through the second wash, the water guy came by to deliver 50 gallons of water (... an unanticipated and uninvited delay). I filled the water tanks and resumed cleaning the deck. The hose kept kinking, adding to my frustration, and the beer, I was self medicating with, was not helping. I leaned over the bow rail, swearing and fuming to myself, while scrubbing the hull. I was way off my center of gravity, but keeping my purchase with my feet gripping the non-skid. I felt my toes slip and I somersaulted right over the rail. Mid-somersault I reached back and grabbed the top rail with my free hand. Boing! I wound up hanging from the boat by one hand (like Tarzan on his vines) with only my feet in the water. Now I'm really pissed! I went to pull (kip) myself up over the top rail and made it about half way up before falling back down to my previous, untenable and embarrassing position. I hand over handed it down the rail until I was close enough to get my feet on the dock and leverage myself up. You can imagine my emotional state at this point. I hadn't broken anything yet, but the language was colorful and I was anxious for someone to say something ... anything! I finished re-scrubbing the deck and non-skid with a stiff bristle brush and rubbing compound. It made some improvement, but the greasy shoe prints remained. I’ll need to get an industrial cleaner to remove the stains. Last, but certainly not least, the dripless packing gland is dripping like it has gonorrhea (one more thing on the list to fix).

I’m having steel rails fabricated on which to mount the solar panels; they will go over the bimini. The steel came out three times before he finally sent his workers out to do the job. I’m also having a carpenter make louvered salon cabinet doors to replace the black plastic sliders in the salon. The carpenter came out immediately, took the measurements and collected $200.00 US for materials, promising to have it done in a week. The weather is beautiful, but it’s the tail end of the hurricane season and one is brewing south of us.

Hurricane Rick arrived. It was 300 miles out at sea and headed for Cabo when it took a sharp right turn and, like bees to honey, headed straight for Mazatlan. By the time it reached us, the wind speed had decreased to 79 mph (from its maximum of 180 mph). All the cruisers hustled about and secured their boats and then waited. 2100 - the winds picked up and the rain started pelting the coach roof. 0300 - the boat now holding steady at a 20-degree starboard list, even though tied to the dock. Routine inspections of the boat reassured me it was a solid and dry boat. Sunrise – the boat remained healed over and the first glimpse of the dark and forbidding sky became apparent. 0730 – One of the boats broke loose, a behemoth 50-foot ferrous cement boat. The bowlines snapped and the vessels bow swung around broadside into the raging storm; it was stopped by one of the new dock pilings. Had the piling not been there, the boat would’ve plowed through eight other boats, on its short trip to shore. 0800- the eye is overhead with clear, bright skies and no wind. 0830 – the eye has passed and the wind has reversed direction; the boat is now on a 20-degree port list (still tied to the dock). 1000 – it’s all over. No boats damaged (save some scuff marks on the ferrous cement boat), but the land buildings and Mazatlan have taken a beating.

November – Refurbished the galley counter tops. I sprayed on a plastic primer over the white Formica, then applied textured patio furniture paint and covered that with 10 coats of clear varnish. It’s looks pretty good (certainly better than the dated white counter tops). I flipped over the mainsail cover and attached my lazy jacks to it. Now when I drop the main, the lazy jacks guide the sail into the cover and all I need do is button it up.

Thanksgiving – Flew to WA to be with Julie for 10 days. Rented a car and drove over a snow covered Snoqualmie pass. The bully snowplows had me boxed in and wouldn’t let me through, until we came upon a stalled tractor-trailer in the middle of the road. It broke up the bullies “Flying V” formation and I squirted through. I arrived at Julie’s about 0300. While at Julie’s, she was given some venison and elk, which we turned into jerky and she picked 8 bushels of apples and pears which she turned into fruit roll ups.

December – Still messing about on the boat. Painted all the inside lockers, and the grab rails on the coach roof. Nothing ... nothing, is easy on a boat. I brought two 85-watt solar panels down from the States. In addition to the delays with the steel guy: I had to find aluminum stock (not an easy task in Mexico) to mount on the solar panels: mount the brackets on aluminum stock: and, then attach the whole thing to the steel rails. Putting it all together is a miserable and tedious event, which involved a good deal of alcohol, swearing, mounting and screwing … unscrewing, remounting and figuring out incomplete wiring directions. It must’ve helped because the solar panels are up and working.

I haven’t heard anything from the carpenter and he is nowhere to be found. I’m told he probably took the money and got drunk. After a month of being unable to contact him, I went to the police with his name, address and business license. The police were on it immediately and issued a summons for his arrest. Today I found out that he is no longer at the address and they have no way of tracking him down. Case closed. The near-do-well got away with my money and I still have no cabinet doors. I contacted another carpenter (referred to me by a contractor) who came out, took measurements and asked for money up front too. “Nope,” I said. I explained my recent misfortune and I was unwilling to be burned again. The contractor reassured me of this carpenters honesty and put his name behind the guy. The doors will be made of Spanish cedar (stained appropriately) and have three horizontal slits for ventilation. They’ll be sectioned two to a cabinet and drop down (as opposed to opening to the side). They should be done in a week and for half as much as his thieving brethren absconded with.

The packless gland is not dripping … it’s the water heater. I’m not that upset about it though, as the heater is 10 years old and one of the very few things on the boat we haven’t replaced. It’s probably been dripping since Fort Bragg and all that time I unjustly blamed the stoic and reliable packing gland. A new water heater is readily available, relatively inexpensive and in a decent enough spot to get to. It looks like it’s plug and play. I hope I haven’t just jinxed myself.

In the mean time, I’ve begun to repaint the hatches and remake the engine cover. The engine cover was pretty simple, or so I thought. A piece of half-inch plywood cut, painted and covered with polyurethane to match to the other counter tops. I found a good piece of non-warped plywood, almost the right thickness. I used the old cover as a template, made a tracing and gave it to the woodcutter to cut. He made a perfect cut … exactly 1/8” off. The engine cover is not square (imagine that!); it is a geoellipsoidal rectangle (his saw only cuts squares). Wait … Wait … for it. I took the other half of the board, made my own tracing and did my own cutting. I’m on a rolling dock, with limited hand tools and working surfaces. I made a good cut with my saw, but not perfect. It’s off by 1/32” … in the only spot it can be noticed. Too damn bad! It’s getting installed and I’ll figure out something … better … later.

The hatch painting … and preparation for painting is a miserable job. The hatches are non-anodized aluminum and need to be cleaned of all the flaking paint and the aluminum oxide. The hatches are not square, have few flat surfaces, are not detachable and have to be done in place, right over the new, white, deck paint. The aluminum, once stripped, needs to be taped off and covered with zinc chromate primer. The primer is a thick, sickly green paint (that is shockingly apparent when spilled on the white deck), and has to be stirred constantly as it tends to dry on the brush. Lastly, three to four coats of white, single- part, polyurethane paint need to be applied, over the primer. Can’t something, anything on this boat be easy!? I mortify myself and begin the job.

It goes well enough, only taking about 97 years longer than I had planned. There are many spots on the hatches that don’t lend themselves to being scrapped or sanded or even touched by the smallest implement; but you can see them just fine! Paint chips, corroded aluminum and dust is all over. I routinely sweep the mess into a tidy little pile, but a gentle sea breeze invariably scatters it about just before I get the dustpan. I put a few gouges in my new paint when the scrapper slips; Oh Darn! On the last and biggest hatch, I discovered power tools. I have a drill on-board and I have a wire wheel. Hot damn! I pulled that bad boy out, set it up and zing, I’m off to the races. I get the last hatch done in no time flat, leaving nothing but highly polished aluminum (save those nefarious spaces I heretofore mentioned) and no gouges … well a few. I started out with a pretty full wheel and wore it down to just a nub. It was dusk as I finished the hardest part. I slept that night feeling like I had accomplished something. I woke up the next morning and guess what I saw on my bright, beautiful, freshly painted, dew covered, white, deck? Rust … lots of rust … little tiny flecks of rust … rust POX! It came from that wire wheel I was so clever in using. Not only is nothing on boat not easy, now it’s destructive. I can’t hose it off because I’ve removed the hatch seals and can’t seal the hatches. I can’t wash it (with a rag) because that will just spread the problem to more spots and I can’t sweep it because the deck is soaking wet. I’m proceeding with the hatch painting and hope the rust will come off with a little wax (from a test spot it appears it will).

Hallelujah! The carpenter came and installed the cabinet doors: when he said he would and for the amount he said he would. They are stunning and match the interior cabinetry perfectly. It makes the salon bigger and warmer. The carpenter needs a little more polishing, though. He used only what was immediately available and his craftsmanship is at the construction worker level. The finish work is a little rough. He used zinc screws that were one size too big for the hinges, didn’t varnish the inside of the vents, didn’t tap the screw holes and mounted the doors offset (which he corrected when I pointed it out). He used power tools for everything. I think he may be a general carpenter as opposed to a finishing one. Still, the doors are done and look much better than what I had, and I can correct the flaws … or at least add them to the list of things to be done.

The hatches are done as well, and the rust spots came off the deck. I used foam cleaner (phosphoric and flouridic acid). With a little scrubbing, it brought the rust up and left the paint alone. The wire shavings from the wheel imbedded themselves in the non-skid, so I had to dig out many, many eyelash size pieces of wire and then try to flush them over the side. It’s raining now, so I hope this natural bath will augment the artificial baths I have given the boat over the last couple of days to rid me of the little devils, forever.

This year is over. I’m buttoning up the boat and catching a plane to see my bride and spend a belated Christmas with her.

24 May - October 3, 2009 The Summer of Fun

2009-12-11T22:14:00.000-08:00

A "joysey goyle"

Refueling the Phantoms

The "Eight-a" Euro Gondola Ride

Thrilled at being in Europe

left side - Julie, Molly (my eldest) and Justin (Brigids boyfriend); right side - Me, Brigid (#2 daughter) and Keelyn (granddaughter)

we're in love ...

American Cemetery Collevelle-sur-Mer, France (Normandy)

Julie on a wild Jackalope in Wyoming

May - Mazatlan - We finished buttoning up the boat, which consisted of dismantling nearly everything inside and outside and stowing it in plastic bags and boxes. I failed to put our books in plastic bags though and a couple of books got moldy. Lesson learned; everything goes in plastic.

June - New Jersey - In Matawan NJ for a friends wedding. It was a beautiful wedding with a handsome groom and beautiful bride. While there, I was introduced to Jersey girls or “Joysy Goyles.” These women are animated in their conversation and speak their minds. They say, "fuck you" ... a lot. Except they say "foock you ... FOOOOCK YOU," twice (in case you didn’t hear it the first time). All conversations are highlighted with this declaration. They're a very genuine bunch and very sweet unless of course you cross them. They’re real alpha females. One girl, a nurse, was discussing her hospital day. She described how the physician had asked her for something. Without missing a beat or pausing in her work she replied (in her inimitable style), “Sure, as soon as I grow a third arm OUT OF MY FOOOKIN ASS.” Yet another story involved the florist, a girl both Julie and Maureen (the bride) had worked for. A client called concerned about the price of the sizeable floral arrangements for her daughters wedding. The florist demurely responded that they could certainly reduce the number of arrangements and adjust the price accordingly. The misunderstood client said, “No, no that’s not what I meant. I want the same arrangements, I would like a reduction in the price”. Oh my … the florist (cute, sweet, demure little thing that she was) said, “HOLD IT! I’M NOT GONNA BE THE ONE GETTIN’ FOCKED HERE. IF YOU NEED TO FOCK SOMEONE, GO TALK TO YOUR HUSBAND, FOCK HIM, ‘CAUSE I’M NOT GONNA BE THE ONE THAT GETS FOCKED HERE!” I find that sort of straight talk refreshing as well as entertaining.

McGuire Air Force Base (AFB), NJ - After a half dozen bumped flights, a night in a hotel and a night at the terminal (you gotta be there if you’re going to catch the flights), we caught a Space-A flight (a military transport system in which active and retired military personal ar allowed to fly is space is available, to Brigid, who lives just north of London. The Air Force personnel couldn’t have been more courteous or professional (a completely different and much more positive experience than any commercial flight). We caught a KC-10 tanker (DC-10) and refueled some German Phantoms on the way over as part of a NATO exercise. Julie got to sit up in the cockpit right behind the pilot, for a short spell and the crew took pictures for her of the refueling operation. She might as well have been in Woody Allen’s orgasmatron by the time we landed at Mildenhall/Lakenhealth AFB, England.

England – Brigid picked us up on base and we spent the next two months with her. Things in England (less so in Europe) are dramatically more expensive (our dollar is only worth about sixty cents to the British pound and seventy cents to the Euro). We babysat Brigids dog for the first week while as she went on vacation, with her shipmates, to the Atlas Mountains in Morocco (listed in the book, A Thousand Places to See Before You Die. We traveled around to Julie’s old haunts, some historic sites, looked up her old girlfriends and stayed with some cruising friends we had met Zihuatenjo, who are from England.

While with Alan and Rosie (our cruising friends off SERENDIPITY whom we met in Zihautenjo) I learned about pubs and British beer. A ‘local’ pub is selected with great care and patronized as loyally as one does their church or hairdresser. The Pubs are selected for the quality of their beer, which is about five pounds/pint. The British drink their beer warm and while it’s still brewing. My Dad brewed beer … a lot of beer … and I remember having to wait a specified amount of time before we bottled it. One time, we bottled it too early. I think my Dad called it “green beer.” My mother was doing the siphoning (as us boys were too young) to get the flow started into the bottles. Apparently, she tasted a little too much of this green beer and got sick (I think the next batch of beer it was decided, we were old enough to help). I point this out because apparently, and I still don’t understand it fully, in the short period of time, when the beer has brewed enough (so it’s not green beer) but has not completely finished brewing, is when the British drink it. The beer is brewed in the Pubs and the cask is moved very carefully to the pump the night before, allowed to settle and then dispensed, via hand pumps. The Cask/Keg is only good for a few days, before it acquires a vinegar taste. If it’s not consumed, then the remainder is thrown away. In England they take their beer so serious, the British government has a “wastage tax” for the beer thrown out the Pub owners claim as lost revenue against their income.. The beer is not “fizzy” (carbonated as preservative) and not cold. The British take their beer very seriously and have little use for carbonated beer the rest of the world drinks. Interestingly, Coors light is the largest selling single brand of beer in England. One last thing about ol’ blighty, and for that matter Europe, shops close up about 1700. There are a few pubs and restaurants open, movie theaters, but essentially business for the day is over.

Brigid has a couple of roommates from Germany who are doing a hotel internship in London and work a tremendous amount of hours (that’s another profession, besides cooking and the priesthood that I think requires a calling). The hours they work and crap they put up with is just massive). I was talking with Tristan (one of the roommates who quite an affable fellow, soft spoken, engaging demeanor and a ready smile) about our upcoming jaunt to Europe. I asked him about places to go in Germany and I pointed on the map, to Hamburg. His face lit up like a Christmas tree and in his German accented whisper he said, “my English is not so good, how do I say” and he held up one hand shoulder high as if holding something and then started making spanking motions with the other. “What is the word,” he continued. Quizzically, I looked at him thinking what is he doing? Still going through the motions he said, “YA, YA, how you say … hooker? I said, “You mean prostitutes?” His grin broaden and his whole face glowed, as he responded, “YA, YA … Hamburg, very good prostitutes!” OK Tristan, thanks for the info. I’ll run that by Julie, right away.

We caught a Space-A flight to Ramstein AFB in Germany, where I thought we’d start touring Germany. It was little cargo plane, maybe a C-135 (Boeing 727) and we sat cots that folded down from the bulkhead and ran the length of the plane on either side of the cargo. It was only an hour, but by the time we arrived in the terminal in Ramstein, Julie was wound up like a top; she just loves these flights. Immediately after clearing customs, Julie hustled up to the flight counter and asked, “Do you have anything going anywhere?” The clerk checked her list and said, “Yes Maam, we have a flight to Aviano, Italy in two hours. Would you like to sign up?” “Yes please … Thank You.” I think she would have flown around the world if she could have.

Our flight to Aviano was a 747, operated as a charter, taking all types of active duty military personnel to Iraq. It was a true privilege to sit amongst these honorable, young men and women. The flight crew could not have been more gracious, complimentary and supportive of these “warriors” as they are known inside the service. Their behavior was really quite touching. We landed at Aviano (an hour flight) at dusk. Aviano AFB is located in the foothills of the northern Italian Alps. The terrain and weather are much like Seattle, except the mountains are closer akin to the Front Range in Colorado. The bases fighter aircraft are operating all the time and it’s a rush to see the F-22 Raptors race down the runway and as soon as their wheels are up, hit the afterburners and go ballistic, perpendicular to the ground, followed by the deafening roar of their engines. Venice is about one-and-a-half hours south and Salzburg, Austria is about four hours north. Traveling in Europe is like traveling in a single western State in the U.S.

Aviano is not a 24- hour terminal, so whatever you’re going to do has to be done by 2000 or you’re out in the cold. We caught a transport bus (that travels at 10 mph) from the terminal clear across the base to the lodging facilities. They had no rooms, but they did hook us up with a local hotel ($75 Euro/$100.00 US) about 1.5 miles down the road. The hotels in Europe are OK, but really not even as nice as Super 8 or Budget Inn in the States. Our 1.5-mile cab ride the hotel was $28 Euro ($40.00 US); what did we know. We walked back to the base the next morning and secured on-base lodging for $40.00 US and a little diesel Fiat rental car. While renting our Fiat, we chatted with an Air Force Sergeant, who had been stationed at Aviano for a couple of years and knew the area. He told us we could go west toward France and the nude beaches; south, deeper into Italy and the U.S. camping installation; north, into Germany and Switzerland, or east toward the old Soviet block nations. Julie had been to Dubrovnik, Yugoslavia (now Croatia) when she was in high school and she wanted to go back, so east we went.

The vistas were sweeping and the harbor towns were just like the pictures; old stone buildings and brightly colored boats: pleasure, fishing and larger craft crowded into marinas or swayed gently at anchor. Tolls, tolls, road tolls everywhere; ten cents, 50 cents, 70 cents, $1,10, $4.70 and they all took credit cards. We got to Trieste about dusk and on our way out of town crossed a bridge that curved out way over the edge of the cliff, with no supporting structure. I can’t find any pictures of it, but it was the most impressive bridge I’ve ever seen. Imagine driving along a cliff. The cliff takes a sharp left and instead of digging a road out of the cliff face and following the terrain, a bridge is built that sweeps out and around the edge to rejoin the cliff back in the gorge where it disappeared; just a big looping bridge with no visible support. It was impressive! Tunnels too, lots of tunnels. It almost seemed they preferred building tunnels to roads. We had very little trouble with border crossings as the guards just mostly waved us through; no visa’s required and no passport stamps (bummer).

Once we got into Croatia the landscape reminded me of the high plains in the western U.S. Dry, with little vegetation on one side and, in parts, the clear blue, calm water of the Adriatic on the other. Deep gorges with snug harbors and only the occasional pleasure craft to be seen. The roads were beautiful, four lanes divided, relatively empty and with frequent rest stops and gas station/hotels (like Little America’s). It took us two, absolutely delightful, driving days to get to Dubrovnik.

We stayed an afternoon and a morning in Dubrovnik exploring the walled city and touring the war museum of the last war Croatia had with Serbia when the Soviet Union broke up. Dubrovnik (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dubrovnik) is an old (early A.D, maybe even B.C) port city built within tremendously thick walls. The hills behind climb to a few thousand feet and the 1990’s, the Serbian army sat on the hill and lobbed shells into the city. Many people were killed and ancient sites were destroyed. Dubrovnik is rebuilding, but you can still see damage from the war and it takes no effort at all to imagine what it was like trying to defend the city from a rain of artillery fire.

We took the coast road back, which is similar to US 1 on the east coast in New England; craggy terrain with small, friendly towns and little shops. We spent then night in a local bed and breakfast (of sorts). The mom and pop proprietors (and homeowners) had a couple of room upstairs from their living quarters an acre out back that they converted to camping spots for a tent or trailer. They had separate shower and bathroom facilities for the campers. Our room was a very reasonable $30 Euro. It required I have a shot of schnapps with the proprietor, without his wife knowing, before we could check into the room, though. We saw a lot of car camping in Europe; little cars pulling little trailers.

After our return to Aviano, we took side trips to Venice and Salzburg. I won’t describe either here as any picture book can do far better job than I can. I will say though that the Europeans are church crazy. Big Cathedrals and small local churches; all are hundreds even a thousand of years old and all are ornately decorated with multiple - four, six eight or more alters, frescoed ceilings, sculpted walls and status’s galore. It is truly overwhelming. Nothing … nothing like we have here in the new world. In Salzburg we stumbled into a fair, with gypsies in their costumes and locals in their lederhosen. We stood in the rain and had one the best sausage sandwiches ever, from a street cart. In Venice, I took Julie on a gondola ride. The gondolier propositioned me and when I asked, “How much?” he said "Eight-a Euro," about $12.00 US. The Italians always end their words with a vowel, right; so I said "Sure," thinking "eight-euro" was a good deal for a 35-minute gondola ride. Just into the Grand Canal the gondolier offered a longer ride for 120 Euro (about $170.00 US. It was then I realized he had quoted me "eighty" Euro, not eight(a) euro. I declined the offer and slunk in the seat next to Julie muttering, "that was a phenomenally stupid of me." We wandered around Venice the rests of day poor as church mice with only enough money for a beer (for me) and split of champagne with Gatorade (for Julie). We got quite a buzz off it and took about three hours to walk it off.

We were unable to get a Space-A fight out of Aviano, so we purchased commercial tickets from Venice to Gatwick (UK) We took the train from Gatwick to Brigids flat (about 3 blocks from Brigids) but on the way Julie and I got separated in one of the train stations. Julie can get around England and navigate the train system just fine; I’m the one with the problem. After Lots of asking and double checking, we both wound up back at Brigids within about 15 minutes of each other.

July - Europe - Molly and Keelyn arrived from Colorado and Justin (Brigids boyfriend) arrived from California. Tim was supposed to come over but he and his girlfriend couldn’t get away. We rented a VW van, stopped at Stonehenge and boarded the Chunnel train to cross beneath the English Channel to enter Europe.

The English drive on the left hand side of the car and on the right hand side of the road; just opposite of most of the world. This works OK in England, but Americans and Europeans get a little confused when entering traffic or making turns, as invariably we (or least I did much to Julies chagrin) wind up in the wrong lane. In Europe they drive on the sensible side of the narrow roads, but I was just opposite of everyone else (go figure). We had a lot of help navigating from Brigids “Thom-Thom.” In fact, Julie, having spent a good deal of time in Europe, would often argue with Thom-Thom. So actually I guess we had two navigation systems; Thom-Thom and Julie-Julie. We spent most of our time in Germany and France but touched Belgium, Luxemburg and Holland.

We were in Europe seven days and I can’t remember all the places we went, but we spent our first night in Wiesbaden, Germany at the American Military Hotel. The next day we drove along the Rhine River and stopped for a wine tasting in Bacharach, Germany. As it was early in the day and we hadn’t eaten very much, we all got pretty toasted at the tasting. We went through Furtwagen and rode bobsleds on rails down a mountain and spent our second night in Treburg, Germany, home of the world’s largest cuckoo clock. For dinner we had venison and boar and beer to drink. Then we drove onto Paris via Schaltag (billed as the prettiest little town in Germany) in the Black Forest where we had Black Forest Cake, ta da!!!.

I only drove into and out of Paris, but it was enough for me in this backwards van, as Parisians view driving as a contact sport. We stayed a couple nights in the Latin Quarter and with Julie as our tour guide we visited Notre Dame Cathedral, the Trocadero, the artists’ quarter at Sacre C’oeur, and the Eiffel Tower (although we didn’t go up as the wait was two hours). We went around the L’ Arc de Triomphe in a bicycle cart. The L’Arc de Triomphe is the largest and busiest roundabout in the world with 8 major highways entering the circle. We went all the way around the roundabout, just taking our leisure, with our bicycle driver pedaling his heart out, toting three of us (in each cart). No special lanes or right-of way, we were right in the thick of the automobiles, lories and buses, making our way around. We finished up the day with a boat ride on the Seine. Parched and hungry we made the mistake (again) of drinking on an empty stomach. Throughout the early evening, over multiple beers and intense conversation, we all managed to get really drunk (except Keelyn and Julie). About 2200, we went out to dinner. On the way we got caught in a cloudburst. No warning, no thunder or lightning. The sky just opened up and a river pored forth. Molly and Brigid, well beyond conscious civility lost nothing in a making a wet situation enjoyable. Brigid was make-believe paddling in the flooded bus lane of the avenue we were walking along and Molly was tilting her head back enjoying the gutter water as it ran off the roof (a stellar moment for a father, if ever there was one). We were trashed and soaked and loud and looked like wet rats. We found a café open that was willing to serve us and we ate. Paris is filled with its share of street vendors trying to make a buck selling flowers or souvenirs. They had pestered us all day and even at 10pm, whilst eating dinner, they were still pretty thick. Finally Brigid gave them a dose of their own medicine and started selling them the silverware on the table. The waiters looked on amused as she almost sold a butter knife and a fork. We made it into a pastry shop for dessert and gorged ourselves on sweets and then stumbled back to our hotel as we had the Louvre the next morning.

Morning arrived and we all hopped out of bed feeling pretty chipper, except Molly. She so badly wants to drink like a grown up, but the next day is just hell on her. We stopped at McDonalds for breakfast and Molly was not doing well. Her condition went from bad to worse and by the time we parked by the Louvre in an underground garage, she was pretty green around the gills. Julie went ahead to get the tickets and Brigid, Keelyn and Justin waited as Molly and I looked for a place for her to vomit. The garage we parked in was seedy and looked as if it had seen its fair share of evening, or morning after … events. I encouraged her to go for it right there in the stairwell, but lady that she is, she insisted on finding a bathroom. We found one and she disappeared into it and began her convulsive heaving. I mean the rumbling started at the bottom of her feet and just pulled her inside out. The heave was long and arduous from her toes to her nose and could be heard blocks away. After about five minutes of this violent workout, she emerged from the head a fully recovered woman. It turns out she was correct in insisting on finding a bathroom, because even though she could not have added to the inimitable charm of the stairwell, by the time we returned that afternoon, one could see it was a major thoroughfare. Wouldn’t that have been special, had she followed Dad’s advice!

We escaped Paris as anonymously as we had entered it. We made our way to Colville-sur- Mar, the American Military cemetery at Omaha Beach. We got there just at closing. It was cold and drizzly adding to the solemnity of the occasion. We were able to see only a small portion of the cemetery/monument but it was an earnest and portentous experience. From the bluff on which the cemetery sits, one could look out over Omaha Beach and visualize the largest armada ever assembled for the invasion of Europe. The grounds are immaculate, but perhaps most arresting were the graves marked. “HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY A COMRADE IN ARMS, KNOWN BUT TO GOD.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Normandy_American_Cemetery_and_Memorial
As monumental as The Normandy Invasion (D-Day) was, did you know that the number of American casualties at Iwo Jima was greater than the total number of Allied casualties on D-day. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Iwo_Jima

The remainder of the evening was spent making our way back to the Chunnel at Calais. We crossed the Pont de Normandie, the second longest cable stayed bridge in the world. It is 705 feet tall and as we were in the middle of a storm, the wind gusts tossed the van about. It made Julie so nervous she closed her eyes and crawled under the dashboard. In Calais, as in England, boarding the Chunnel train is a very informal experience. Remaining in the car you drive onto, essentially, cattle cars and remain in the vehicle for the 45-minute trip under the Channel. Arriving at your destination, you drive off the cattle car and you’re on your way.

Once back in England we did a little more touring around to Winchester Cathedral; Southampton and Pear Tree Church, the oldest Anglican church in the world and the church where Julie was Christened and sang as a choir girl; Cambridge - where we went ‘punting’ (pushing yourself around on boat with a stick); Camden Locks and Covent Garden; we had lunch at the ‘Crypt Café’ which is the crypt of St Michaels of the Field Church and saw the changing of the guard Buckingham Palace. They have television program in England called “Come Dine With Me.” In the program four non-food professionals and strangers to each other, who fancy themselves gourmet chefs take turn hosting each other for dinner. The host’s dinner is graded on taste, complexity, style and overall presentation. We (Julie, Molly, Brigid and I) decided to do that. It’s not important who won, but I lost. I was severely marked down (25 points lower than the next highest) because of my style. They said I hurried them through the soup (too damn bad - they should be thankful to have soup)! Our time in Ol’ Blighty was drawing nigh.

August – We caught a flight from Mildenhall/Lakenheath AFB to Dover AFB (DE) on a C5 Galaxy. It’s one of the largest airplanes in the world, although after reading about it in Wikipedia it may not be the most reliable. We landed safely in Dover and hoofed it across the base to the hotel. The next morning we rented a car and started the search for our own vehicle to buy. After looking on Craigslist in five States (DE, PA, NJ, MD and VA) we secured a 1999 Dodge Dakota pickup with a camper, in Pennsylvania.

We drove back thru Delaware (dropping off the rental car), over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and spent the night at Langley AFB. The next morning we made our way over to Portsmouth Naval Hospital, Portsmouth, VA. It was my first permanent duty station in the Navy and while the old (not the original) hospital building (over 2000 beds) is still there, it looked like it only operated in an very limited administrative capacity; a huge ghost of a building. I worked on the pediatric surgical unit and went to Operating Room (OR) Technician school there. I believe that hospital was built in 1960.

Capt. John Smith first explored Portsmouth in 1608 (that’s a long time ago), and the original (and still standing) Portsmouth Naval Hospital was built in 1827. It is oldest continuously running hospital in the Navy. I worked in the original hospital, as well, on the psychiatric ward (I was 18 years old) and as we drove by, it still appeared to be operating in some form of patient care capacity. I remember stories of it being haunted. We drove around the hospital grounds, but it was hard to recognize anything from my day. The first and second hospitals are still there, but now they’ve added a new (third) hospital. We drove past the Admirals house and the small Civil War graveyard that, when I was stationed there, I would visit from time to time. Maybe it’s more significant now because I’m a little bit closer to one of those little plots. The running track is still there, but not the Enlisted Men’s Club or any of the barracks. I was only stationed there 17 months, but vivid memories that could fill a lifetime came flooding in from all directions and I so wanted the grounds to be the same; I really felt like I was 18 again. I didn’t know this, but in World War I, Portsmouth Naval Hospital (PTSNAVHSP) was a major treatment center for the Influenza Pandemic. The US Navy and Marine Corps lost more than 5300 sailors and marines from Influenza in 1918; nearly double the amount of the total Navy and Marine Corps casualties during the entire war. Nostalgically, we left Portsmouth for Julies property in south-central Virginia.

We arrived at Julies 66 acres in Dillwyn,VA, a couple hours before dark. We provisioned up a little because we planned to camp out. Once on the land we built a campfire and the neighbors came over to discuss the local doings well into the night. We spent the weekend there exploring the land, but it was like a jungle, so thick was the underbrush. Our neighbors treated us to dinner and introduced us to squash pie. On Monday, we headed west to the Blue Ridge Parkway and took that north until it joined with Skyline Drive in the Shenandoah National Park. We dropped down the back side and motored thru the Virginia countryside into Maryland where we stayed at Bethesda Naval Hospital; the National Naval Medical Center, my second permanent duty station. Again, the hospital grounds have changed so much it is unrecognizable. Gone again were the Enlisted Men’s Club and my old barracks. We were going to go into D.C and visit the Marine Corps Memorial and the Tomb of the Unknown Solider, as we had visited the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. My intent was to show Julie how it’s supposed to be done. We didn’t make it and I’m sorry for that. I’ll take her another time.

We departed for NJ to see the newlyweds. I think I have a soft spot in my heart for the east coast, maybe because I spent some very formative years there, but the days were magical. After seeing Maureen and Neil and departed for New England. We stopped just this side of New York City and had lunch with and old Navy buddy of mine. I wanted to see Tom and it was good to see him. We went to OR School together in Portsmouth and we were roommates while stationed in Bethesda. Between duty stations, we made a cross-country road trip, taking his Indian motorcycle out to California to be rebuilt.

Tom is the reason I’m sailing. I decided to go sailing down at the Naval Academy one Saturday. On my way out the door, Tom asked me where I was going. I told him I was going sailing and as an after thought asked him if he knew anything about sailing. He tilted his head, and in his inimitable fashion, got a quizzical look on his face like he was going through a Rolodex in his brain and started to nod saying, “Yea … Yea … I know how to sail … I know a lot about sailing. Rag Baggers … that’s what they call sailors.”

It was a cold fall day and we had on our Pea Coats when we arrived at the Sevrin River, just off the Chesapeake Bay and right across from the U.S. Naval Academy. We rented a 24’ Rainbow sailboat, with a tiny cabin and no motor. What did I know about tides, or currents, or wind, or … sailing (except how to tip over a sunfish on Boulder Reservoir). To this day, I have not seen a boat more expertly handled. It was an obstacle course to get off the dock, out of the river and into the Bay; I would compare it to that course to the one we recently sailed into at Fort Bragg, California. The channel was clearly marked but it was narrow and had several turns in it. He sailed away from the dock, port tack, starboard tack, port tack, starboard tack, just like he was driving a car. We slid into the Chesapeake and joined all the bigger boats romping through the waves, heeled over, tacking, jibbing, slicing back and forth across the water and hoisting their colorful spinnakers for downwind runs. We took turns at the helm and ducking into the little cabin to get out of the cold autumn wind. What a marvelous, marvelous day. That was it! The second great revelation in my life, from that point on I wanted to sail. I wanted to own a sailboat. I wanted to live on a sailboat. I wanted to work on a sailboat and sail anywhere, anytime … I just wanted to sail! Thanks Tom …

For cohesions sake, my first great revelation was when I arrived at boot camp. Ten minutes into our indoctrination, a Navy Chief (who, until that point, I thought would surely be wearing a war bonnet, as all Chiefs wore), in splendidly colorful language told my bunch of fresh recruits that if we “stayed in this man’s Navy for 20 years you’ll collect half your base pay for the rest of your lives.” That was it! My first great revelation; I hadn’t been in the Navy ten minutes and I was career oriented (a lifer).

But I digress … we left Tom and went through New York City during rush hour. We went as far as Niantic, Connecticut, where we stayed a couple of days. During our time in England, Tim wrote us an email announcing his engagement to his girl. She is a Marine also and her family lives in Hartford, Connecticut not far from Niantic. We called Tim and Amy to arrange a meeting with her family. Tim and Amy had failed to tell her family of their impending nuptials. We were willing to pass by anonymously, but Amy scrambled about and notified her family at midnight that she was engaged and her future in-laws were coming to see them … surprise. We met Amy’s family the next night, all of Amy’s family was present and we had a pleasant evening chatting about the kids.

From Niantic we stayed on the coast road and drove through all the New England coastal towns. We stopped for a night and camped out on the beach just south of Boston, walked the boardwalks of the beach towns in New Hampshire, and bought fresh lobster for $3.25/pound from a “lobster pound.” We arrived in Kittery Maine, which is actually the location of the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard and Portsmouth Naval Prison (closed in 1974). I have two shipmates that I worked with at Portsmouth (VA) Naval Hospital and I was lucky to get in contact with them as the address information I had was fifteen years old and I couldn’t find a current phone number.

Mike is from Boulder and we’re the same age; we graduated from cross-town high schools the same year. Between us we knew most everybody in Boulder, but had not met each other. Mike was a corpsman also, and Nancy was a Navy Nurse, and our boss. Mike and Nancy got married just after I departed for Bethesda in ’72 and we have stayed in contact, sporadically, throughout the years. I don’t know if either one of them ever knew this, but I had a huge crush on Nancy when I stationed in Portsmouth. Nancy would loan us her car, a brand new, bright orange VW beetle, for the weekend. Mike and I (and/or Andy Tubbs) would take off for the Shenandoah Mountains and go camping. I was 18, thoughtlessly inconsiderate, and I ran the wheels off that poor little car. We drove it more like a dragster, than an economy car. One time when we brought it back, Nancy said (in her best New York City accent), “boy, the car really moves fast now.” Well, hell we were running it at 70 or 80 mph on the flat, and it was floored in the mountains, all the time. When I drove, I tended to stay in my lane and let the car drift around the corners, squealing the tires and taking inches off the tread at the same time. When Mike drove, he tended to use the whole road, both lanes around the corners and spared the tire tread (and brakes). I really wanted to see Mike and Nancy and I was prepared to move heaven and earth to find them. We only spent a short time together, but I sure have a strong bond and tremendous affection for them. The visit was short and sweet. Both are doing well and both look much the same as I last saw them 37 years ago. Nancy is as cute as a button and Mike is slim and trim and may be the only person who is as bow-legged as I am. They will do well, forever …

Julie was tremendously patient and supportive in my efforts to find Tom and Mike and Nancy (ah rah rou …).

Over the next several days we toured the jagged Maine coastline and visited the charming coastal towns. We even went as far north as Calais, ME (we can’t wait to take the boat up the Inter-Coastal Waterway and hike the Appalachian Trail). We headed inland and in fairly short order, drove down through Maine, across New Hampshire, up Mt. Washington’s narrow twisting road and down again (causing Julie to dive under the dashboard, yet again) and into Vermont. We took the ferry across Lake Champlain into upstate New York; down through the Adirondacks, into Buffalo, across Niagara Falls into Canada and then re-entered the US at Detroit. We visited a couple of my aunts and Uncles in central Michigan and then headed to Upper Peninsula (UP) where we visited a cousin I hadn’t seen in over 40 years. Julie and Joe (my cousin) talked hunting and taxidermy during our visit. Michigan is a beautiful State and if we ever settle down, it’s high on our list of places.

We motored out of the UP, across Wisconsin and into Minnesota, where we hooked up with my nephew for a short telephone conversation. From Minnesota we drove into South Dakota and onto the Great Plains (or prairie or steppe). I read on the plaque at the rest stop (and I think I have this correct) our Great Plains (in the U.S.) is one of only three in the world that is so vast yet able to sustain a large crop production. We visited Mt. Rushmore and then entered Wyoming through the back roads, either side of which was just littered with herds of Antelope. I once read “Wyoming should be paved and turned into a trailer lot.” No offence to the good people of Wyoming, but with the exception of Jackson (Hole) and Yellowstone, I see no reason to contradict that statement. Julie was able to ride her first Jackalope while in Wyoming.. We went through Jackson and spent a night in Yellowstone before heading up into Montana. I don’t consider myself a world traveler, but the United States really is stunningly beautiful and so tremendously varied. It just has everything!

We made it from Yellowstone to Spokane, WA in just a little over 12 hours. We were delayed existing Yellowstone by a couple of buffalo that took their sweet time crossing the road. Did you know more people are hurt in Yellowstone by buffalo than by bears We spent the night in Spokane and in the morning headed for Ellensburg to pick up Julie’s taxidermy from her old boss’ house. Once loaded in the truck we continued onto Seattle.

September - We arrived in Seattle Labor Day weekend and stayed with Dik and Kathy (in our old neighborhood), had dinner with Chuck and Shirley, visited Steve and Glenn (the shipwrights), got some work done on the truck and did some boat shopping. We left in fairly short order heading south to San Diego with stops along the way to hook with Julie’s ex-workmates from Alaska and cruising buddies we’ve met sailing. We missed COK CABUK in Portland but did get to talk to Gary on the phone. North of San Francisco we met up with BEYOND REASON (Bill and Lisa). We went to a play on Alcatraz Island that another cruiser (Ava) we met was producing and acting in, in conjunction with the National Park Service. After the play BEYOND REASON and ITCHEN went out and did a little bit of the San Francisco nightlife. What a gas! We had dinner and did a little dancing at the infamous Tonga room. It was a long, hot day of driving and a cold night at the now closed Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary (where the play was), but it was fun and I don’t think at all unique to the cruising community. You meet someone half-a-world away, form a bond based on the common cruising experiences and then hook up at some later point without skipping a beat. We missed PEPE in Lake Tahoe, but hooked up with Julie’s friends from Alaska in Reno. From Reno we went down the backside of California on US 395 and cut through Yosemite. During our travels in these National Parks, we came across quite a few couples who act as Campground Hosts. They get their campsite for free in return for monitoring the campsite in which they are camped, or for doing any number of odd jobs in the park … one more thing to add to the bucket list. We stayed in Lemoore, CA in the middle of the vast farming country of the San Joaquin Valley. For all you global warming fans, Wikipedia says “that if all the worlds glaciers melted then the San Joaquin Valley would once again be subject to oceanic flooding.” The San Joaquin Valley produces 13% of US agriculture (in dollar value); has the largest single cotton farm in the world; grows the majority of asparagus consumed in the US; and, it’s the birthplace of the raisin. Dairy cattle produce so much manure, that farmhands have actually drowned in the manure pits. How do you explain that to St. Peter when you arrive at the pearly gates; the obvious, St. Peter – “you smell like crap.” You – “DUH!” or, honesty, St. Peter – “Whew, what is that stench?” You (raising your hand at the back of the line) – “It’s me, I just drowned in a pool of shit:” or the clever, St. Peter – “that’s a … that’s a bit strong isn’t it?” You – It’s a my new cologne Ode to manure … do you like it?”

From Lemoore it was over the pass in the Angeles National Forest, through Los Angeles, along the coast road, past Camp Pendleton and into San Diego. We had a good visit with Tim and Brigid (who had flown over from England to see her boyfriend and unbeknownced to her, get engaged). Justin (the fiancée) wrote me when he returned to San Diego, after spending a week with us in Europe. He explained his feelings for Brigid and his intentions. He asked me not to tell anyone, as he wanted it to be a surprise for Brigid. I did not; not even Julie, much to her chagrin. Brigid called us over Labor Day to announce her news. Justin took Brigid to the beach in San Diego and a photographer friend was there to capture the moment … stunning pictures. We finished up our boat shopping, packed up our stored household goods into a U-Haul and headed for Phoenix.

In Phoenix we spent a couple days with my mother and then headed up to Denver. From Phoenix to Flagstaff is a long, hard climb. You rise in elevation about 6000 feet in 117 miles (51 feet/mile). During the drive a truck passed us that was swerving all over, nearly clipping the guardrail and then us. That is not a highway one wants to lose control of a vehicle on. We called the police, but they already had several reports about him. Sure enough, five miles up the road an Arizona Ranger had him pulled over and as we passed the Ranger was reaching inside the vehicle removing the keys from his ignition; Bad Day at Black Rock for that guy. I picked up solar panels in Flagstaff, stuffed them into the U-Haul and we arrived at Carole and Bob’s (in-laws) in Pueblo, CO about 11pm. We had a nice chat with them and breakfast the next morning before departing for Molly, Denver and the end of our summer trip.

While in Denver I saw my Godmother and cousin. Julie and I took one last excursion over Trail Ridge Road. We went up through Estes Park, a town with it’s own Elk herd that partially resides on the golf course located at the east end of town. There were several bulls, but the dominant one made himself known to the others by bugling and declaring his territory, as well as his women; the other boys kept their distance. He probably had 25 cows and every once in a while a straggler would wander in. One of the estranged bulls would try to head her off, but the dominant male would come charging out and the cow would scramble past the pretend suitor until she joined the rest of the heard. We (hikers, tourists and photographers) were often only several feet from the herd. We were told there are about 3000 head of Elk in that herd, but the area can only sustain 2100. They plan to thin the herd by 10% over the next ten years (that’s a hundred plus Elk per year). Professional hunters (State licensed hunters that can hunt almost anytime, that take special tests, attend special courses and spend a couple weeks per year doing community service work) do the killing and the meat is given to local food banks. It was beautiful day as we drove over the pass and down into Grand Lake, over to Frazier, past Winter Park, over the top of Berthoud pass, through Idaho Springs and back into Denver. On our last evening in Denver, we had dinner with my brother-in-laws family (Rick, Kelly, Weston and Erica). It was fun and the two teenagers entertained us all night.

While up in Ellensburg retrieving Julie’s animals, her employer from last year offered her the same job this year, with a little bump in pay. Since we’re not heading south on the boat until January, why not? Remember the begats; Julie going north and me going south begat a rendezvous. I will go up to Ellensburg to see Julie around Thanksgiving. The termination of Julies contract begat another rendezvous; we decided to meet in Denver and do some skiing. The skiing begat new skis for me, as I gave mine away last year and the new skis begat lift tickets as you can’t go down the hill unless first you go up it. We got out of that money pit just before we drowned. On Tuesday Julie left for Ellensburg to work and hunt for 3 months (a good woman ‘il do that) and the following Saturday I headed for Mazatlan. This was the most fun summer of any I’ve ever had.

05 April – 23 May 2009 Zihautanejo - Hualtuco - La Cruz - Mazatlan

2009-05-19T10:13:00.000-07:00

05 April - 12 April 2009 Sunday to Sunday
Zihautanejo; still at anchor deciding whether to go north or south. We had originally decided to go south (Costa Rica, Panama and maybe through the canal) but, with Julies ankle acting up and the option to do other things we felt no compulsion to follow a schedule. We then decided to go north, but after two months at anchor in Zihautanejo the goals got a little fuzzy and we wound up being talked into to going south.
Had dinner out one night and on another we had a potluck on OCEAN DANCE (ITCHEN, FREEDOM, WILD ROSE, FANTASY, PAULA JEAN, SEA HORSE, KOHLEA, OH BABY and CLAIRE MARIE were in attendance). I’ve cleaned the bottom of ITCHEN a couple of times.
Cody, Molly and Bodhi’s dog, died. He developed cancer and was getting sicker. It's amazing how pets become so immersed in our lives. They are wonderful things, aren't they? They never criticize us or give advice ... they're just there to give unconditional companionship. They're an example of what we humans should be with each other.
On one of our last days in Zihautanejo, one of the cruisers opened their life raft to inspect it. Among other things missing, the owner found a valve for the inflatable tube missing. Had he needed to abandon ship, he would’ve launched his life raft, popped the automatic inflating canister and all the air from the canister would’ve flowed right through the life raft out the other side. The life raft would’ve sunk almost as quickly as it popped open! In addition it didn’t have any water as he was told it did, nor were the emergency flares operable. Someone in the marine industry packed that life raft knowing it was defective.

Monday - 13 April 2009
0700 - Weigh anchor at sunrise for a straight run to Haultuco, by-passing Acapulco. We’ve spent 7 weeks on the hook in Zihautanejo bay: the longest we’ve spent anywhere, voluntarily. It cost me another $20.00 to get out of Zihautanejo: agent fees to run interference with the port captain.

Tuesday - 14 April 2009
1100 - N16.15.469 : W098.57.842 - halfway to Haultuco. OCEAN DANCE is out of sight and radio contact. Our average speed is six knots at 2600 rpm: course generally bearing 104 degrees. Fuel consumption is about 0.58 gallons/hour, which will give us a range of 450 miles (on the inboard tank): another 150 miles with the 17 gallons I carry on deck. Estimate Haultuco this time tomorrow.

Wednesday - 15 April 2009
1501 - Tie up Chahue Marina, Hualtuco and check in with port captain. Decided to head back north, again. We’ll go back to Mazatlan as originally planned and start from there next year. We’ve rushed down the Mexican coast either to keep a rendezvous or buddy boating. As a result, we’ve missed things we want to see, not only on the coast but inland as well. We need to establish our own cruising agenda. It’ll be a bit of a bash back as the current and wind are generally against us, but we think it will be worth it.

Thursday, 16 April - Sunday, 19 April 2009
Haultuco - Said our Goodbyes to OCEAN DANCE, as they need to get across the Tuanapec and continue their journey south. We fueled up, filled with water, washed and waxed the boat, finally gave the engine a fresh water wash-down, and did the laundry. Julie found a carniceria (butcher shop) in town and that sold us filets for $4.00/lb: and that’s after all that fat is cut off. We’re all set to go for a Monday morning departure.

Monday, 17 April - Sunday, 26 April 2009
Six days at sea. We departed Haultuco for Zihautanejo on the outgoing tide, such that it was. The seas were calm with a breeze out of the WSW. We close hauled the main and averaged six knots, gliding along effortlessly, displacing over 10 tons of water for every 37 feet the boat moved forward. Night and day, day and night we cruised north. At night our wake left a trail of phosphorescence like a rocket ships exhaust. Dolphins would play off our stern quarter and we could see their phosphorescent streaks as they shot under the boat and around the bow. In the afternoons the breeze would freshen for a couple of hours and then die off before sunset. We didn’t adjust the close hauled main for three days and nights and arrived off Zihautanejo early Thursday morning. There was no moon and even though the sky was clear and the stars were out it was still very dark. All ahead,dead slow, under radar (the charts have not been updated so relying on the chart plotter is shear folly), we very carefully picked our way into the harbor. 351 miles made good.
We anchored in Zihautanejo for a few hours to obtain a weather fix and refuel at Ixtapa (the next harbor north). With a forecast of good weather, we motored over to Ixtapa for fuel. We had to cross a narrow bar entrance to gain access to the fuel dock. The surge was up with waves and spray shooting 20 feet in the air as they crashed furiously on the jetty. I lined us up and we surfed through the entrance at 8.5 knots, with the depth sounder reading as low as 0.2 feet (that puts a twist in your knickers). After refueling we had to face the same surge over the same bar in the same, very narrow entrance, to escape. I eased into the staging area, not fully convinced I was going to try it. I trice circled the boat, trying to judge the surge, wave height and interval. I made my decision, lined us up and pushed the throttle all the way forward. ITCHEN quickly began to make way and in the short distance to the bar was up to her hull speed of 7.5 knots. I watched anxiously, as the depth sounder dropped … 0.9 … 0.7 … 0.5, and the huge tidal surge rose to throw us back onto the rocks. ITCHEN met the surge, tucked it underneath her hull and vaulted over the crest and into open, deep water. I turned around to look at what we had just cleared. I patted ITCHEN on the hull (much like a cowboy pats his horses neck) with a few words of endearment. ITCHEN, showing her stern to the bar, craned her bow around as if to say, “That’s it? … That’s all you got!?”
Underway, with plans to refuel in Barra de Navidad, we passed the city of Lorenzo Cardenas at dusk and needed to alter course to avoid the supertankers which were anchored a couple of miles off shore. Lorenzo Cardenas is quite the industrial port with the huge shipping cranes (the only ones we’ve seen in Mexico) and container ship traffic as well as the oil tankers. The harbor and its approaches are shallow for some distance out and only a few freighters at time can enter the port, which discourages small vessel traffic.
Our speed was so good and we passed Barra de Navidad at 0400, four hours ahead of schedule. Our fuel was holding so we decided to press on to either La Cruz (Bandera’s Bay) or San Blas (Mantanchen Bay) 70 mile north of La Cruz. Again, almost perfect sailing: not a cloud in the sky, temperature about 80 degrees, light breeze off the forward quarter, close hauled main, no wind waves and long, and long, languid swells. ITCHEN virtually leapt through the waves gently pitching us back and forth like an overstuffed rocking chair. We passed the time talking, reading, sleeping, eating, watching movies, enjoying the occasional afternoon cocktail and attending our watch duties.
We rounded Cabo Correntas (the southern edge of Bandera’s Bay) at dusk on Saturday evening and needed to make a decision to continue on to San Blas or head into La Cruz. We chose La Cruz and at 0230 we dropped the anchor outside of the marina. We had to reset the hook three times before it finally stuck; a problem I’ve not had with the Danforth before. After a long voyage and at that early hour we got a little testy, but we got the anchor set.. 358 miles made good.

Sunday, 26 April - Friday, 30 April 2009
Sunday morning we weighed anchor moving the boat into the marina. La Cruz Marina and Yacht Club is a beautiful, brand new facility. The marina is nearly empty which makes the long, wide slips appear to even larger. I think these are the longest slips I've I seen, some in excess of 100 feet (they have obviously been built for larger yachts). I don’t expect the marina will stay empty for long with facilities that include laundry and showers, a clubhouse rooftop sun deck complete with lounging couches, and a restaurant overlooking the marina. The adjacent town known properly as La Cruz de Haunacaxtle, is having a week-long festival (to their patron Saint) which includes 10 loud cannon shots at 0600 each morning. Each evening the entire village slowly processes around the town square and into the church (complete with blaring trumpets and cannon shots). It’s quite a noisy affair. Evenings we would meet fellow cruisers for dinner: eating at the local vendors, two of the British restaurants, and one German restaurant.
We departed La Cruz Friday morning for the 30-hour sail to Mazatlan, where we’ll have the boat hauled and bottom painted, and if I can get a good deal I’ll have the hull and deck painted as well. We’ll put the boat up for the summer in Mazatlan, stripping off all sails and canvas, disconnecting all the electrical components and prophylacticly bombing the boat for bugs. Then it’s off to old Blighty.

Saturday, 1 May – 23 May, 2009
1500 - Arrived Mazatlan without incident. The totals from Hualtuco to Mazatlan were 930 miles made good, 158 hours underway (6.5 days), and 81 gallons of fuel used (0.51 gallons/hour) at an average speed of 5.88 knots at 2200 rpm. We tied up at Singlar Marina and rested for the remainder of the weekend. I spoke with TYW about the painting on the boat and we struck a pretty good deal. We’ve begun preparing the boat for the summer lay-up: stripping the canvas, changing the oil, bug-bombing to prevent roaches and generally downsizing: eliminating excess and unused clothing and gear as well as eliminating one of our refrigerators. We’ll probably get a couple of solar panels, which will eliminate our need to run the engine. I’m not sure the juice is worth the squeeze, but it is an alternatives source of power for our electrical needs should the engine fail or run dry of fuel.
It was a little windy the morning we motored over to the fuel dock to top off our tanks. Using the wind we sidled up to the fuel dock and took on our fuel. We then eased her out into the channel and back to our slip. We had fellow cruiser on the dock to help as line handlers. ITCHEN backs down very poorly so using reverse to stop her always risky. When she does finally begin to move in reverse, she backs to port like iron ferrite to a magnate. She will turn in place, on her keel, in reverse, which is neither interesting nor amusing. We make our approach dead slow, but the stern breeze is increasingly our speed. I slip the gearbox into reverse to slow our forward progress and Julie tosses the lines to the handlers. Knowing what I know about the boat and feeling our forward speed increase at an alarming rate, I lay on almost full reverse throttle, which is what it takes to retard any forward progress the boat has and incidentally, prevent 20,000 lbs of contrary plastic from taking a face plant into the dock. True to this one contrary thing about her, ITCHEN spins to port and immediately wraps her stanchion around the stern anchor of 44-footer tied next to me. Julie puts her foot, in between our stanchion and his anchor to fend off; not just any foot, but the foot that is attached to her recently broken ankle.
ITCHEN is still doing her best to wrap herself around the neighboring boat and I’m doing my best to thwart her efforts. Suddenly the marina is filled a blood-curdling scream, I’m mean like right out of the movie “Psycho” scream. I look up to see Julie’s foot caught, being twisted and compressed by ITCHENS stanchion and our neighbors anchor. She is in the perfect position where no one on the dock can get to her and I can’t leave the steering station to help her. She yells at me to move forward and I gingerly increase the throttle taking the pressure off her foot, which she quickly extracts. Between the line handlers and myself we move the boat back into the slip, not caring if the dock is hit or not. I’m fully fed up with this quirk in ITCHENS maneuvering abilities. Julies scream had alerted everyone and they all came running to assist us. We even had a couple of calls from the marina next door asking if everything was all right. Julies, thankfully, suffered only a minor abrasion on the top of her foot. The scream was good and got everyone’s attention, which prevented a certain and more serious injury. Julies was upset with herself for screaming, but I think; 1) she alerted everyone to an impending serious disaster: and, 2) she kept her wits about her enough to tell me which way to move the boat to free her. No one plans for this sort of thing to happen and wind and current can do funny things to a slow moving vessel. I’m not sure a lot can be learned from this other than never use anything that breaths as a boat fender.

16 February – 04 April 2009, Puerto Vallarta to Zihautanejo

2009-04-05T18:21:00.000-07:00

The Mexican Parthenon

OCEAN DANCE

The ceremony

The happy couple at the 50th wedding anniversay ceremony aboard OCEAN DANCE

Julies Triffle

A typical crusiers meeting

Roy and Winona's first 50th wedding anniversary dinner

A massive wood sculpture one of the villages around Patzacuaro is known for

The monastery, come convent, come resturant/hotel where we had breakfast in Patzcuaro

The alter in the church built in 1540 - Patzacuaro

The Pyramid

One of the island cities in the middle of the lake by Petzacuaro

Monday - 16 February 2009
1020 - Depart PV for Barra Navidad. Skies clear, wind and seas calm. Marina fee $309.00 US for 14 days.
1200 - Catch a nice current to Cabo Correntes: increase’s our speed to 6 knots.
1400 - Round the cape and pick up fresh northern breeze. Run out the headsail: 8.5 knots sliding down the backside of the wave.
1700 - Skies clear; wind directly off the stern at 25 knots. Furl headsail.

Tuesday, 17 February 2009
0030 - Wind has decreased but the waves are really rolling in. It’s a clear night and visibility is excellent. The waves don’t look that large, but they are. Huge rollers travel beneath the boat lifting it eight, ten, twelve feet. We’re rockin' and rollin’. All around us we can hear the crash of the waves cresting on themselves. I was just about to change course to give a little better ride and a huge wave crested just off our aft starboard quarter. The spray curtain stopped most of the wave from entering the cockpit, but it sure tossed the boat around. Two big rolls, sizeable enough to tip over the Engle refrigerator, which sits on the cabin sole in the lowest part of the boat. Julie hollered up “What’s going on up there!” as if scolding the waves and I for roughhousing.
0910 - Anchor Barra de Navidad: engine hours 716. The harbor channel is fraught with sand bars. I touched the putty a wee bit, but was able to back off immediately. JAKE came out in his dinghy and led us in. Visited with JAKE and ate fresh croissants from the French baker who was making his rounds in the harbor: into town after a bit.
1800 - Out to dinner with JAKE and HOOLIGIAN and stopped by the Canadian baker for pecan pie and chocolate cake.

Wednesday - 18 February 2009
Barra de Navidad lay day. Swimming and email at the Sands hotel pool and bar.

Thursday - 19 February 2009
1020 - Depart Barra de Navidad for Santiago Bay. We actually weighed anchor at 0930 and slowly picked our way over to the fuel dock. There was a sailboat refueling on one side of the terminal and a huge, permanently moored powerboat, end tied to the other side of the fuel dock. The powerboat effectively blocked any boat from getting diesel (what an ass) and the sailboat took his sweet time fueling up, including washing his boat down. If I haven’t mentioned this before, cruisers are a microcosm of the rest of society. There are good guys and bad guys, and good guys that sometimes behave badly. We filled with 92.5 liters (23 gallons): 716 - 660 = 56 hours / 23 gallons = .41 gallons/hour. Filled the two six-gallon diesel jugs for a total fuel capacity of 62 gallons, which makes our total estimated running time between 120-155 hours: total estimated distance 850 miles. We’re good.
1600 - Anchor Santiago Bay in 12 feet of water. Slow trip, only four to five knots: wind and waves on the nose, swells on the stern.

Friday - 20 February 2009
0400 - Weigh anchor Santiago Bay for Zihautanejo, skies clear and fresh NW breeze.
0704 - Sunrise. Winds NW 10-15 knots, seas choppy, long period swells. Flying jib only.
1200 - Skies clear; winds steady NW at 10-15 knots: seven knots under jib only.
1400 - Notice definite leak in the brand new engine’s raw-water cooling-pump. I am pissed! And pissed!! Winds on the stern, furl the headsail as I’m unable to keep course and headsail full.. Slow down and wait for JAKE.
1858 - Sunset. Winds 15 - 20 knots with gusts to 25 knots: big rollers coming on the stern pushing the boat around. JAKE on the horizon in front of us.
2200 - Julie wrenched her broken ankle: no more watches for her. I get the all-nighter. Increase turns to 2400 rpm: speed 6.5 knots.

Saturday - 21 February 2009
0200 - See lights occasionally off to the port but unable to pick anything up on radar. Unable to raise JAKE on the radio and I’m not sure if I’m ahead or behind him: maintain speed, course and heading.
0703 - Sunrise. Skies clear, seas calm with long period swells
0900 - Catch JAKE … dead ahead. Went all night without seeing or hearing from him and 14 hours later come up directly on his stern.
1200 – Pass Ixtapa Bay on approach Zihautanejo Bay.
1330 - Anchor Zihautanejo in 13 feet of water: engine hours 755.5: fuel gauge indicates we’ve used 3/8 tank from Barra (33 hours); SAUCY LADY and 12 other boats here.
1800 - Into town for a walk about. Pizza and beer for dinner with JAKE and SAUCY LADY.

Sunday - 21 February 2009
Zihautanejo - day spent emailing Total Yacht Works about pump problem.

Monday - 22 February 2009
Zihautanejo – SAUCY LADY (Roy and Winona - cruising friends from Washington) dinked over for a visit after the morning net. Discussed going further south toward the canal. Roy and I removed the water pump. We discovered the brand new impeller I installed in Mazatlan had a broken paddle, the pump drive belt was shot (cracked and shredding), and the pump bearing seal is leaking and unable to be fixed. I did a fresh water wash on the engine and Roy scrapped all the salt buildup from behind the pulleys, around the alternator and underneath the pan. We replaced impeller, installed a new drive belt and reinstalled the old pump (I need the pump, to cool engine, that charges the batteries, on the boat, that Hunter built.).
1200 - Into town to check in with port captain and have lunch. The port captain won’t check us in because we have no paperwork from our last port. In Mexico, the rule used to be foreign cruisers had to check in and out of every port, which involved finding the ports’ captain and providing current vessel documentation, proof of insurance, passport’s and visas. Several years ago the government changed the law allowing cruisers to check into the country at their first port of call, and check out of country at their last port of call. All the time we’ve been in Mexico, no port captain has required us to check in. When we’ve tried to check in, it’s been met with indifference and no documents have ever been stamped. This port captain wants something official though. One of his lieutenants took us down the malecon to an agent who will forge the needed documentation (for a small fee). We send a flurry of emails to TYC concerning the water pump.
1800 - Bus ride to Ixtapa (with JAKE and SAUCY LADY) to speak with BRENDON (a 37-foot Shannon owned by Steve and Denise Pepper) who did the Baja with us last year. Steve is up in the States and may be able to bring a water pump back when he returns on Friday.
2000 - Return to Zihautanejo and have a street hamburger for dinner.

Tuesday - 24 February 2009
0930 - Into town for southbound cruising seminar where we met half-a-dozen boats going south. We discovered some great cruising guides (that we didn’t know about) with detailed charts and information on Central America; we want/need them.
1200 – We strolled about town getting the lay of the land. Wandering into the street markets which are a huge conglomeration of individual vendors selling fresh cuts of beef to order, chicken legs, clothing, toys, back packs, curios of all manner of sundry items. It’s their Fred Meyer, but we’d call it a flea market.
1300 - Returned to agent. Twenty-four hours later and $20.00 poorer, we had official documentation verifying that we had entered Mexico at 1330 hours 23 February 2009; helluva way to run a country. Heard from TYW and they can get the parts but are unsure of the waiting period.
1800 - Little vittles on ITCHEN with SAUCY LADY and JAKE.

Wednesday - 23 February 2009
Zihautanejo – Water pump parts are available from Boatswains Locker (in Newport Beach, CA). They are willing to give the parts to BRENDON and bill TYW. For something I didn’t think had a snowball's-chance-in-hell of seeing fruition, it has come together nicely.

Thursday - 26 February 2009
Zihautanejo – We rented car at the airport for trip into Patzacuaro. Patzacuaro is city near Morelia and much like Morelia except smaller. Additionally, it has several communities that live on four small islands in the lake that is adjacent to Patzacuaro. After a three-hour drive and $20.00 in tolls we arrived in Patzacuaro, a 16th century city (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P%C3%A1tzcuaro). We drove around one of the plazas and made our way down to the embarcadero, where long shallow-draft water-taxis ferry residents and tourists to and from the islands. We were unable to catch a taxi out to the island due to the time of day, so we drove part way around the East side of the lake. Each one of the ten or twelve little villages surrounding the lake has a craft claim-to-fame: basket weaving, stone sculpting, wood carving, furniture making, beadwork, etc. One of the towns has an historic archeological site. It’s a pyramid of sorts (rectangular in shape, not real tall and with steps). The pyramid sits on an elevated piece of ground at the end of a grassy arena. The surrounding area, in fact all the way around the lake, the countryside is divided up with stone fences. I’m not sure, but I think the stone fences are part of the ancient history of the region. The site had three plaques. Each plaque’s narrative was written in three different languages (English, Spanish and a local native dialect); not one of the languages did anything to enlighten the visitor about the area. The plaque’s said something like ”…this area was inhabited by an earlier people. The pyramid is at the end of the field. This field is believed to be used for ceremonial events, perhaps some sporting events and even market day.” After visiting a few more villages we returned to town and stayed in a traditional Spanish architecture open-air hotel on the plaza.

Friday - 27 February 2009
Patzacuaro - Up early to explore the city by foot. We wandered down to the main plaza that consisted of a beautiful central grassy gardened area with fountains edged by the old buildings with their massive porticos. We walked up the street away from the plaza to the cathedral and two smaller churches. The churches are actually quite large and within blocks of each other (sometimes right across the street). One of the churches had a plaque declaring it to be the oldest church in Michoacan (the State the city of Patzacuaro is located in). The church was built in 1540. Columbus discovered the new world in 1492. Busy bees these Spanish missionaries were!
We had breakfast at one of the hotels in the plaza. The dining area was the central, uncovered patio of the hotel, surrounded by rooms on the floor above. As I looked around, the number of religious artifacts present struck me. In fact, all the decorations were religious pictures or icons of some sort: unusual for a restaurant. It seemed like we were in the center of a small church, with the altar at one end, arches on the side and a small drainage ditch surrounding the patio on which we ate. The character of the patio was vibrant. On talking with the manager, he said that the building was very old (circa 1500’s) and was originally a monastery, then a convent and now it’s a restaurant.
We walked through another huge market place where the fruits and vegetables were terribly inexpensive. Julie purchased a pound (medio-kilo) of oranges for fifty cents. We also purchased green beans, small yellow bell peppers, a string of garlic (the kind you use for vampires), roma tomatoes, and two other bean/pea pod and pomegranate-looking things, that I will die a happy man if I can remember their names.
1300 - Depart Patzacuaro. We drove up the other side of the lake a bit and then turned around for home. We return via the city Urupan to visit the Parq National. Traffic was heavy and slow going to the park, so we bagged it.
2030 - Arrived back in Zihautanejo.

Saturday - 28 February 2009
Zihautanejo - Out to Ixtapa to see BRENDON and pick up the water pump, impeller, drive belt and rebuild kit. The new pump was installed, we return the rental car and had lunch with SAUCY LADY.
1800 - JAKE and us take SAUCY LADY out to dinner. It is their 50th wedding anniversary.

Sunday - 01 March 2009
Lay day - Julie baked goodies. I let out some anchor chain and cleaned the bottom of the boat. Every other week or so, if we are anchoring out, I‘ll let out an extra scope of chain so the catenary that has been hanging in the water falls to the sand below and gets cleaned. I leave it for 24 hours and then pull the chain back to its original scope.
Preparing to clean the boats bottom is a matter of putting on my mask, gloves and fins, grabbing my wire and nylon bristle brushes, a scraper, and a suction cup handhold. I carefully tuck the scraper into my Speedos and go over the side of the boat, just like Mike Nelson did in Sea Hunt. I can hold my breath for 30 to 45 seconds in which time I press the suction cup to the hull, hang onto it and submerge to scrub the barnacles from the prop with the wire brush. Cleaning the prop and diving on the keel are the two hardest parts of cleaning the bottom. The rest of the hull is fairly easy to scrub with the nylon brush. The whole process can take up to two hours, in 30-45 second intervals. Without the suction cup, the job is nearly impossible to do. Many cruisers carry dive tanks or Huka’s to do the job. A Huka is a floating electrical compressor that creates an on-time oxygen supply delivered to the diver via a long breathing hose. Both dive tanks and Huka’s take space and power requirements I’d rather use for other things (another compromise). Those boats with divers/tanks/Hukas’s will clean your bottom for a dollar a foot, which is reasonable (and necessary in colder waters).
SERENDIPTIY (Alan and Rosie Ralph on a 51’ Islander) anchored behind us. The couple is from Southampton England (Julies home town) and they had called earlier wondering about ITCHEN’s name. One thing led to another and an impromptu cruiser's meeting was initiated at the Sunset Bar and Grill. Ten boats wound up attending; DECADE DANCE, ITCHEN, JAKE, MISTY SEA, NORTHERN DREAM, OCEAN DANCE, SAUCY LADY, SERENDIPTIY, and SUNBOW. Later, SAUCY LADY and ITCHEN had desert and a movie aboard JAKE.

Monday - 02 March 2009
Z-town - JAKE departed for PV. We filed taxes, did laundry and invited BRENDON aboard for dinner. Dinner (Supper) is prime social time. We rarely eat alone as we either have guests or are guests aboard another boat. Julie tries some new food group almost every time she cooks. Her meals are always different in an adventuresome sort of way. She, personally, never first tries the menu; that's what guests are for. The following is one of those accounts.
While in the Patzacuaro market we came upon some miniature yellow bell peppers. We thought it might be cute to stuff them and maybe some roma tomatoes for an appetizer or the vegetable portion of the meal. We were having BRENDON over for dinner, do we thought we’d barbeque some steaks and Julie would stuff these miniature yellow bell peppers with a little dollop of mashed potatoes. While preparing the peppers that afternoon, the skin on Julie’s hands started burning and then wiping her eyes, her eye’s immediately started to burn. After quite a bit of irrigation we got her eyes cleared up, but her hands continue to burn for the next 24 hours. To a couple of average intelligence that would’ve been a clue. We finished the dinner preparation as BRENDON arrived. We had a couple of drinks, cooked the steaks and Julie prepped the plates. I dove right in and cut a nice slice of pepper off and chomped down on it. WOWEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! IT WAS HOT! HOT! HOT-HOT! SPICEY HOT! How hot was it? I was so hot, insects burst into flame as they flew past. The heat from the peppers had even permeated the potatoes. Plop, plop, plop-plop … plop; in an instant all of us pitched the peppers overboard (let the fishes eat them). We wound up eating the steak and drinking lots of fluids. The peppers are called habaneras and even though they look exactly like a miniature yellow bell pepper, they are not; and they are hot.

Tuesday - 03 March 2009
Z-town; still at anchor; I filed …re-filed … the taxes; they were rejected because I entered Julie's birthday incorrectly. We retrieved the laundry and it was dirty. I don’t believe the lavanderia washes the clothes … at least not with soap. Every time we’ve taken the clothes in to have them laundered they come back just as dirty as when we when we took them. I’m not talking about a little ring around the collar or some obscure stain; I’m talking obvious dirt and grime that is removed during a normal wash. The unlaundered clothes smell nice and are folded neatly in a plastic bag, but they are dirty. When I take the laundry in and use the same machines the lavenderia uses, add my mixture of soap and bleach, the clothes come out much cleaner (just like home). It costs about $10.00 to have the laundry (not) done and about five dollars to do it ourselves. SAUCY LADY aboard for dinner

Wednesday - 04 March 2009
Z-town - Julie is attending a cooking class, in which the instructor takes the class into the mercado and teaches them about the assortment of foods and spices found there. The class then returns to the instructor’s house with their booty and taught how to prepare the food. For example; preparing Mexican marmalade, filleting the fish from the spine as opposed to gutting it from the belly, and using Bamboo leaves in grilling.
On the boat, I started the engine and let it run for one and half hours to recharge the batteries (I do this twice a day and try to space it 12 hours apart). Most boats have alternative sources of energy such as solar, wind, and/or gas/diesel generators. They still need to run their generators/engines in the morning to recharge their batteries after the night with no sun. I’ve seen only two boats get by on just solar and/or wind alone. I trade the fuel cost and wear and tear on the engine against the cost of solar and wind generators. I had a little Honda 1000 gas generator, which put out about 8 amps/hour. I sold it in La Paz last year because I was dissatisfied with its output and I hadn’t spent a lot of time at anchor. It was dumb and now I’ll need to find another one. I dinked to shore to meet Julie where we ordered water, spoke with Brigid on Skype, and checked Space-A flights to Europe. We had dinner aboard SUNBOW with OCEAN DANCE (59’ Cheoy Lee Trawler - Jim) and JICARANDA (38’ Allied - Chuck and Linda).

Thursday - 05 March 2009
Z-town - Change propane tanks and take the empty in to be refilled. The water we ordered yesterday arrived. When water is delivered, it’s delivered in five-gallon plastic containers via a panga. After transferring fifteen bottles aboard (from the panga), we get a funnel (a two liter plastic pop bottle cut in half) stick it in the deck plate (a capped receptacle on the boats deck), hoist the five-gallon (40 pound) jug of aqua and carefully poor it into the funnel. Repeat this eleven times and the port tank is fully provisioned with fresh water. The other four jugs I put in the starboard water tank to top it off. I have two five-gallon collapsible water containers I can fill, as well. Fuel comes in 50-liter vegetable oil containers (we’ve seen nothing like them in the States) and the fuel is transferred from vegetable container to fuel tank via a siphon hose (much easier and less back breaking than the water, but slower). I have yet to get fuel here, bet we’ll need some prior to heading north.
We had dinner aboard OCEAN DANCE with Jim and his crew Bob and Roz. Bob is a retired orthopedic surgeon and took a look at Julie’s ankle x-ray. It’s too early to tell if the fracture will remain a non-union. We’ll get it x-rayed again in PV at the end of the month.

Friday - 06 March 2009
Z-town - We remain in Zihautanejo continuing with the daily routine of a cruiser.
0600 - The night sky is just beginning to brighten as the sun lurks over the horizon. In a sleepy daze, the deep rumble of the fishing fleets engines are heard as they race out to sea. The boat jostles a little as the wake slaps against the hull, but it’s nothing compared to the swells (coming from hundred of miles out in the Pacific) that roll us around. Adjust. Adapt. Sleep.
0800 - 0830 - Tumble out of the rack and bounce around the boat until we get our sea legs. Julie is up first; she turns off the anchor light and prepares for the morning net. I usually have a cup of instant iced coffee. I know instant iced coffee doesn’t sound very encouraging, but everything done on the boat is geared toward simplicity and convenience. Heating hot water produces both heat and reduces power. I’d rather be cool and suffer a little with the taste. One of us will wipe the deck down, if enough dew is present; then drop the dinghy off its halyard where it’s been lifted all night for security purposes and to keep the bottom clean.
0830 - The local morning net begins. I’ve explained the net before, but just as a recap: The net is the radio communication network used by cruisers, a party line if you will. There are regional nets (Greater Pacific, Gulf Coast, Caribbean, etc.) that carry exotic names like Pacific Seafarer, Chubasco, Southbound, Bluewater, Amigo, etc). These regional nets are very large and may encompass an area thousands of square miles. Communication is conducted via a short-wave radio (HAM or SSB).
Local nets (conducted on a VHF radio) are just for a particular bay or marina in which a group of boats are anchored. All nets start at an appointed time and follow usually the same specified format, which allows each boat to identify itself, needs they may have, their relative safety, and (for vessels underway) their position. The nets are hosted by a controller and follow fairly rigid rules of order. Even so, they can be as long as 45 minutes, depending on the number of boats involved, weather, traffic, and messages that need to be passed along. After the local net there is usually a flurry of radio traffic for vessels wanting to communicate with each other to coordinate activities. It sounds like this; “ Gaia – Gaia, this is Sans Cles. Over.” “San Cles this Gaia, switch and answer 21.” Or, it may sound like this; “Third Day - Third Day - Third Day, this Isle of View.” “Isle of View, pick a channel, over.” Isle of View “mmmmmm, lets go to 68, over.” “68, Isle of View.” In a busy marina there may 15 or more boats hailing each other.
0900’ish - Breakfast for the crew and coordinate the day's activities: who needs to go ashore and when? What projects need to be done, when do they need to be done, and what is needed to do them? Is a trip to shore required and can it be coordinated with crew liberty? When do supplies arrive from shore (water, diesel, laundry, food, all manner of things can be delivered to the boat via the panga’s)? We may then check the boats we’re babysitting in the anchorage (if any), which usually involves charging the batteries or feeding an animal. Daily, on our boat, we check fluid levels, engine spaces, the bilge, the head urinal (which requires emptying every couple of days). Every month and half to three months we’ll need to empty the solid portion of the head. Never a fun job, but no one on a boat escapes it. Most boats have to weigh anchor, go offshore and pump out either electrically or via a hand pump, rinse the head with salt water, add the chemicals, then return to the anchorage to re-anchor. While our experience is a little more up close and personal (even though standard marine heads need to be rebuilt periodically and holding tanks and sewage lines need to be replaced), it’s just a matter of pulling the top off the head and dumping the used peat moss (which smells like dirt) into a plastic bag and taking it ashore to dump in the trash. We then refill the tank with peat moss, reassemble the head and secure to the cabin sole. Supper on ITCHEN, just the two of and we watched a movie on the computer.

Saturday - 07 March 2009
Zihautanejo - Go over and check on BRENDON (38’ Shannon Pilot House). I recharge the batteries for an hour using his generator. Brendon’s solar panels keep up with his energy needs during the day, but after 12 hours of no sun, he needs to run his generator. Return to the boat and begin again on the endless tasks that need attention. I need to rig up an anchor chain cleaning brush, so I used a toilet brush and cut the wire loop that hold the bristles in place. I temporarily attach the brush to a boat hook and I can sort of clean the mud from a chain when we weigh anchor.

Sunday - 08 March 2009
Zihautanejo - Over to charge batteries on BRENDON. Julie and Rosie (SERENDIPTIY) organized a British afternoon tea party for the ladies of the anchorage, on SERENPIDIPTY. All the ladies are required to wear hats. Some of the guys went ashore for a beer and from that vantage point we could clearly see ladies hats bobbing about on the 51’ ketch.
Julie and I returned to the beach later that evening. The zocolo is the small, centrally located plaza on the malecon (walkway along the beach) with some seating, which can be converted into amphitheater, ceremonial stage and basketball or volleyball court. It is the place to be on Sunday night as all the locals come out to mill about and socialize. They bring crafts, food, or any number of curios to sell. We had a hamburger from a street vendor and milled about.

Monday - 09 March 2009
Zihautanejo - The dinghy outboard started to make noise last night so I went to the beach this morning to work on it. It turns out the spring clip located on the bottom of the starting pulley was broken. A mechanic happened to be walking along the beach and after surveying my problem he took me for a little walk: through a parking lot, over a bridge, up some stairs, through a back yard, and across a street to another fellow's house. The beach mechanic showed the house mechanic the broken spring clip and 10 minutes later, after passing in front of us a couple of times, the house mechanic returned with another spring clip, smaller, but functional. I paid him 200.00 pesos ($16.00 us) and departed. My mechanic felt he deserved a beer after escorting me around and so he took me to a tienda where he got two beers, one for himself and one for me. He then instructed me to pay for them (25.00 pesos). We sat on the curb outside the tienda and he jabbered at me in Spanish as though I understood him. I was polite, finished my beer, thanked him for his assistance and returned to fix the outboard. I thought while I was there I might as well change the spark plugs, but I’m unable to find the plugs this engine requires, so I filed the old ones off and reinstalled them. To OCEAN DANCE (55’Choey Lee two-story Trawler: Five staterooms, three bathrooms, two caterpillar diesel engines; two Onan 20KW generators and a 7000 mile cruising range) with SAUCY LADY for dinner. Julie did the cooking and OCEAN DANCE provided the venue.

Tuesday - 10 March 2009
Zihautanejo - Went for a sail on FEET (a 42’ custom catamaran). Bill (FEETS master) built the boat in San Francisco in the early 1990’s; it took him about four years to complete it. This is Bill’s fifth year in Mexico. The boat is 42 feet long and 26 feet wide and has a 25 hp outboard motor for auxiliary power. Electrical needs of the boat are very small and his solar panels keep his batteries charged up. Even so, he has electric winches and an Engle refrigerator. The boat sailed flat (no pitching or yawing) and nearly at the speed of the wind. We had eight to ten knots of wind and we were sailing as fast as eight-and-a-half knots. Julie spent the whole time in the forward trampoline (net), four feet above the water doing yoga with Av (another crewmember). FEET and WILD ROSE (Laurie and Ava) over to ITCHEN for dinner.

Wednesday - Sunday, 11 - 15 March 2009
Zihautanejo - Life at anchor continues in much the same pattern. Jump up, turn off the anchor light, let the dinghy down, wipe down the decks and check out any new arrivals. Listen to the morning net, visit other boats, go to shore, take short day sails, or shift to another anchorage for a night. Clean the bottom in the afternoons. Sunday I added the extra fuel I was carrying for going south (12 gallons) and provisioned with drinking water; 4 jugs starboard (20 gallons) and nine jugs port (45 gallons). I also cleaned the composing portion of the head.

Sunday - Saturday, 16 - 21 March 2009
This week SAUCY LADY celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. A potluck hosted by the cruising community was held in their honor. The happy event was held on OCEAN DANCE and the vessels master performed the renewal-of-vows ceremony. Everyone in attendance brought a useful gift. The vessel’s bow was tastefully decorated with white tulips and crinoline skirting. The bride had a bouquet of five genuine red roses with baby’s breath. She wore a white cotton dress, flip-flops and a crinoline veil attached to a rhinestone tiara. The groom wore a white dinner jacket, black bow tie, clean shorts, and sandals. The iPod, MP3, and the vessel ISHI provided tasteful music from a bygone era; the music was not played loudly. There were nine boats in attendance. Even though alcohol was present, guests conducted themselves in a mannerly fashion. Laughter and merriment were reported.

Sunday - Saturday, 22 - 28 March 2009
Zihautanejo is hosting The International Guitarfest (for which we are volunteers). Guitarfest is a local charitable event that runs the entire week. The community solicits top-drawer guitarist from around the globe to participate. Locals donate time, transportation, and living accommodations while restaurants donate venues. We have a dual role as volunteers: one is to sell tickets and the other to bounce gatecrashers and lurkers. Sunday was the opening day of the festival and it continues at different restaurant venues throughout Zihautanejo. As volunteers we are able to visit any of the venues free (on our off nights) and subsequently took in quite a few acts. We especially liked Doug Towle and del la Tierra (Canadian new age classical/flamenco guitar), Drew Wright (Canadian singer), Anna Burceiva (Ukrainian classical guitar), Eric McFadden (American new age folk), Pat Guadango (American all around entertainer), Roger and Valeria Scannura and daughter Angelica (Canadian/Spanish flamenco guitar and dancers) and Los Pistoleros. Los Pistoleros are three individual guitarists (from Texas) who joined to form the group six months ago. They absolutely rocked the house. I’m unsuccessful in listing the web sites, but if you go to youtube and type in the above names or Zihautanejo Guitarfest you can see the perfromances

Sunday – Saturday, 29 March – 4 April 2009
Zihautanejo – Exhasuted and partied out after a week of guitarfest. We’d start each evening with cocktails and a meal on one of the boats. There were usually about four couples getting togehter and not a light drinker amoung us. At 1830 we hopped in our dinghies and made our way to our scheduled resturant venue, where we had more drinks (because they were free) and started selling tickets. For those patrons already in the resturant, we’d ask them to pony up the six dollar admission fee or leave. We had a couple of malcontents, but nothing serious. OCEAN DANCE, BRENDON and ITCHEN made one side trip over to one of the grand hotels in Ixtapa where we snuck in and used their pool for the afternoon.
There is a private residence here that ressembles the Parthenon. It is a cold, gray cement building sitting high on a hillside, presiding over the bay. We hiked our way along the beach, up a half dozen fights of stairs, through a couple of resturant/hotels, and up the dirt road that ended at the imposing gates of the Mexican Parthenon. A older mexician gentleman, in shorts and t-shirt, was sitting with his little dog (osso negra) on one of the cement banisters. He identified himself as the guard and for a couple of bucks he unlocked the gates and took us on a tour. Understand the place has no maintenance and is in pretty shabby condition. The entire two story structure is open air. The floors are imported Italian marble and the walls are covered with fading fresco’s (some a little diviant in their nature). A bar, kitchen and a huge marble dinning table occupy one-half of the bottom floor. The upstairs has five bedrooms each with its own mirriored ceiling and full bath. The rooms are dirty and broken down and currently serve as nice homes for bats … lots of bats. The front of the parthenon (the portion that faces the bay) has 20 or steps that decend onto what was a large open courtyard complete with pool and disco dance area. The grounds were littered with greco-roman statues and had a built in tunnel that led to the beach 10 stories below. Now for the rest of the story …

ZIHUATANEJO, Mexico (Reuters) - A replica of the Greek Parthenon stands decaying on a cliff above a Mexican Pacific resort, a gaudy monument to graft and brutality that neighbors long ago dubbed the Palace of Corruption.
It was built as a vacation retreat by the late Arturo Durazo, "El Negro," a notorious Mexico City police chief who got rich on official misdeeds during a heyday of corruption in the 1970s. Legend says he murdered a couple of house guests in the Parthenon's lagoon-sized pool, now half filled with slimy, green water. The caretaker fears the ghost of El Negro himself haunts the deserted grounds. He prefers to hang his hammock outside the towering front gate, keeping watch from a distance.
"Definitely, that Parthenon is a monument to corruption," said Zihuatanejo Mayor Amador Campos. "However, it is a beautiful place worth a lot of money that can be rescued as a cultural center or theater for the people." Guerrero state has claimed the property, and now towns people hope to turn it into a community treasure.
… Durazo, whose opulent taste once was described as "early Nero," ran the Mexico City police force as his personal Mafia, acquired a string of race horses and reputedly had his enemies killed at will. He was convicted of racketeering and other charges and died in 2000. The Parthenon's decadence still stuns, although it is softened by dusk and time. Murals fade on the walls and the seashimmers below. Broken statues of Greek gods stand forlorn.
… His boyhood friend, Jose Lopez Portillo, became president and rode an oil boom that fed some of the most blatant graft, nepotism and excess ever seen in Mexico. Economic crisis ensued, and a disgraced Lopez Portillo died last year.
The following is one of the many websites with pictures of the Parthenon: parthenon zihuatanejo

28 January - 15 February 2009 - Mazatlan to Puerto Vallarta and Morelia

2009-03-06T11:38:00.000-08:00

Morelia from our hotel room

One of the Plaza's in Morelia

Butterflies

more Butterflies ... millions of Butterflies

Wednesday, 28 January 2009 - Sunday, 1 February 2009
Mazatlan - Readjusting to the confinement of boat life. Changed the engine and transmission oil, oil filter, and raw water impeller and tightened the alternator belt. It’s a little bit early to do this work, at 690 hours, but better to do it where I have help than where I have none. I had the bottom cleaned, the oil pressure gauge re-installed, and I re-waxed the deck and hull for the umpteenth time. Saturday Steve and Weta (JAKES family whom we met in the sea this summer) hunted us down to take us out to dinner.
On Sunday went to a Super Bowl party at El Cid. The crowd was older than I, and very obnoxious. Why not enlarge on this point?

Monday - 02 February 2009
1000 - Skies clear. Wind NW, variable. Waves small and long period swells from the NW. We slip our dock lines and make our course for Puerto Vallarta (PV).
1200 - Julie is a little seasick adjusting to life underway. Winds NW 10 knots. I unfurl the jib and hoist the main sail. Doing 7 knots under sail alone, an easy ride.
1400 - Winds have increased to 20 knots. Placed one reef in the main. Doing 7.5 knots now, course steady at 153 degrees.
1800 – Sunset; winds at 10 knots. Doused the main and motor sailed with the headsail out. OK - Headsail out of what?
2300 - Julie is still seasick. Winds variable. I douse the headsail.

Tuesday - 03 February 2009
0200 - Pass Isla Isabella to starboard.
0400 - Crystal clear night; visibility excellent with a full moon. All of the constellations are visible. I can easily identify the Big Dipper, Altair and Pleiades. I should make it a night watch practice to get out the star chart to study, identify, and memorize the constellations. Swells eight to ten feet, often rolling the boat 15 degrees or more.
0600 - Julie reports for watch, apparently healed of mal-de-mer. Pass Tres Marietes (see 09 March, 2008 log entry) on starboard. I drop into the salon for three hours of sleep. It's really "saloon" but that would confuse the gardeners among your readers.
1200 - Round Punta Mita at the northern tip of Bandarras Bay. We’ve been warned not to cut the corner due to unmarked shoals: twenty-two miles to PV.
1400 - Whales sounding all over bay. This is their winter home prior to migrating back north to Alaskan waters.
1630 - Tie up Marina Vallarta (PV) - Slip C-25. Engine hours: 692.

Wednesday - 04 February 2009
0900 - Checked in with Marina and started boat maintenance: Lubed winches, replaced the bottom reef lines on the main sail, and retied Lazy Jack lines. The winches are used to crank in the headsail sheets (ropes that attach to the headsail). Reef lines are small ropes that go through the sail at three different heights on the main sail. Reef lines secure (tie-up) the sail to the boom when reducing sail area to compensate for increased wind speed. Lazy Jacks are lines extending down from the mast that help manage the sail when lowering it.
Efren Ramirez Calderon M.D. came to visit us at the boat. Efren is Esther’s medical contact here in Mexico. Esther is Julie’s friend from Alaska. Esther collects outdated medical supplies from the local hospitals in Anchorage, inventories them, and sends them to facilities worldwide that need them. Efren has many contacts in the local medical community and is able to distribute the unused supplies to the patients' and caregivers' advantage.
Attended to email. Julie heard from MERIDIAN (one of the boats trapped in Moro Bay with us and that also did the Baja Ha-Ha with us). MERIDIAN is in New Zealand now, having work done on their boat. They plan to stay on the hard for six months and tour around on land. MERIDIAN reports that many of the boats that have made the puddle jump (a euphemism for crossing the Pacific) are either up for sale or being put on Dockwise for the return trip. Dockwise is a freighter that hauls boats around the world. The center part of the ship actually sinks and the boats are driven onto the holding area. The sunken portion is refloated and the vessels are secured. The crews are citing parts failure and exhaustion from the long passages as the two main reasons. The marine environment is terribly harsh, perhaps the harshest I’ve ever seen. In my opinion, most marine suppliers and retailers do nothing to make life at sea easier. With very few exceptions the parts, materials, and workmanship are grossly inferior. If the component itself doesn’t break, then it was put in poorly or just plain wrong. Shoddy workmanship (our own troubles being just one of so very, very many examples) that we’ve seen coming out of Seattle, Port Townsend and San Francisco are routine, not rare. Perhaps it’s a reflection of what’s been going on in society as a whole, lately.
We were inside a coffee shop attending to email when a bee, in an unprovoked and unwarranted attack, took it upon himself to sting me. I felt a tickle on the top of my left foot and subconsciously massaged it with my right foot. I felt something different than the satisfaction one gets from itching a scratch and looked down to see a bee flopping back and forth trying to escape the stinger he had, maliciously and with intent, thrust into me. I extracted the stinger and killed the bee.

Bees: Mexico has swarms and swarms of bees. While at sea this summer, along with daily weather reports, we had daily bee reports. Some anchorages were worse than others and nearly every boat had some issue with the Mexican bees. For example, BEYOND REASON did a fresh water washout of their wetsuits they had used for diving. They left the wet suits on the cabin top to dry and came out some time later to find an entire swarm (thousands of bees) had taken up residence in the wetsuits.
The bees are attracted to fresh water. The hive will send out a scout bee (or several scout bees) to find a fresh water source. After finding the source, the scout returns to the hive, reports, and then the entire hive flies out to enjoy the waters. The trick is to kill the scout bee so he can’t report back. All the cruisers are pretty vigilant about two things in this regard: keeping sources of fresh water under tight wraps and killing the scout bee. In regards to the later, many of us have purchased electric fly swatters. They look like junior-sized tennis racquet, only they are electrified with a couple of batteries. The novice will swing and swipe the racquet-swatter like a normal fly swatter, often damaging the boat or shattering the racquet-swatter itself. Once experience is gained, an elegant dip of the racquet-swatter can catch the bee in mid-flight. Electrocution is a certainty, whether it results in death or merely a permanent palsy is often a matter of luck, for the bee. Julie, being the hunter she is, goes for the one-time clean shot kill. I tend to send the scout bee hobbling back to the hive, scorched wings, bent antenna and a permanently shorted-out navigation system. With so much damage to his internal electronics, his communication dance looks more like he has been into the peyote than on a scouting mission. No way can he communicate the trail back to the water hole.

Thursday - 05 February 2009
Puerto Vallarta - Awaiting Esther and Jan (Julie's friends from Alaska). To Zaragoza (a marine store) for Cetol, an extra Danforth anchor (13 pounds) and shaft zincs.

Friday - 06 February 2009
Puerto Vallarta - Five-dollar cab ride to the airport to pick up a rental car. Back to the marina to meet with Esther, Jan and Efren. Then to the community indigent hospital to distribute Esther’s medical supplies, enjoy a hospital tour, consult with the staff on further equipment needs, and get an X-ray of Julie’s ankle. The bone remains broken but the break is closing.
Lunch after the hospital visit was at a large open-air restaurant. The remarkable thing about it was they had no menus. A large (all you could eat) plate of beef, pork, chicken and lamb was set on the table for the party to share family style. No vegetables, no potatoes, nothing: just our drinks and this huge plate of meat. Back to the boat to make plans for our inland trip to Morelia.

Saturday - 07 February 2009
0900 - Depart PV for Morelia and the Monarch Butterflies (via automobile). It took nine hours driving time and that was staying on the toll roads, which cost about $50.00. The toll roads are not always divided highways, often under construction and include stoplights and huge speed bumps as they meander through small towns. Even so, they are better the libre (free) roads, which wind and twist every which way adding, in this case, four hours to the journey.
1800 - Arrive Morelia, a city of 600,000. Absolutely charming city, unlike anything we’ve seen in Mexico. It’s a very old city with a modern section as well. It is clean and organized. The historic portion of the city has multiple large plazas with majestic European-style cathedrals. The four us dragged Morelia’s narrow cobblestone streets disappearing into the historic district’s maze. We bumped into one dead end after another, passing marvelous stone buildings, balconied windows and always the heavy, sculpted wooden Spanish doors. After dark had destroyed any further chance of sightseeing, we found a hotel room and had the best and least inexpensive dinner we’ve had in Mexico to date.

Sunday - 08 February 2009
0800 - Depart Morelia for the town of Anganguao and the Butterflies. Anganguao is three hours more towards Mexico City and sits in the low foothills of the country. The road is narrow, loaded with huge speed bumps, passes through many small villages, but is marked well enough … with pictures of Butterflies. At Anganguao we climb steeply into the mountains on switchback roads with hairpins turns. At the top, we enter the butterfly sanctuary and are greeted by local Indians selling a variety of curios and more practical bottled water and surgical masks.
The trail to the butterflies was an arduous hike on a dusty, steep, winding, shifting, and uneven path. They had horses (ponies really) that one could rent, but we chose to hike it (Julies broken ankle and all). Many, many Mexican families were making the same hike but the remarkable thing was they were dressed in their Sunday best (not hiking gear). The men were in dress slacks and dress shoes and white shirts. The women were dressed equally as nice, usually slacks, and we saw more than one hiking the trail in high heels. No kidding: high heels! The little girls were in their pastel green and blue church dresses with white ankle socks and patent leather shoes. The older women were in dresses as well, and their footwear was only marginally more practical. All ages were represented on the trail. It took about two hours to reach the butterflies via the trail and at the end everyone was covered with the black dust of the trail, which was as fine as talc.
While the trail was busy, it was not overcrowded. Additionally and inconveniently, another gringo decided to join the four of us and our little Mestizo guide. This was important because Esther and Julie needed to pee. Jan was 25 feet ahead of us with the Mestizo guide and the inconvenient gringo waiting for hobbling Julie, panting Esther and me to catch up. I gave Jan the high sign and she led the two strange men further down the path (not an unusual thing for Jan to do at all). Oops, here comes a young couple sauntering romantically down the path. She probably weighed 225 pounds to his 265. Waddled past us they did: star-struck, hand in hand, completely unaware of taut bladders and spastic sphincters. Not quite in the clear, Esther made a command decision and firmly announced, “to hell with it!” One heartbeat later, Esther had made the necessary adjustments and was quietly watering the ground below her. Julie, in the excitement of Esthers’ decisiveness but positioned poorly, was caught completely unaware. Last out of the gate, she hobbled over by Esther (girls always pee in twos), made her own adjustments and commenced her business. The girls did finish in record time and at nearly the same time. Would that I could pee that fast. With guys, however, time is not critical, rather it’s more about creativity. Writing one's name, perhaps some artwork… leaving the world a little better place than one found it.
Over the entire trek we saw very few butterflies: 12, 15 tops. The butterflies remain high on the mountain in the morning, but as the earth makes one more rotation towards evening the butterflies follow the sun down the mountain and into the forest canyons. This is where we finally saw them; millions of them. The sky was lively orange and black confetti that flittered about. The trees, trunks, branches and needles were painted a flowing orange and black. The ground, too, was covered with butterflies.
Millions of Monarch Butterflies from the Eastern United States and Canada migrate several thousand miles, annually, to this specific spot in Mexico. What’s amazing is that the butterflies that make the trip down are not the same ones that make the trip back. In fact, it’s the third, fourth and even fifth generation that make the return trip. The Monarch Butterfly only lives for about two months and is the only butterfly that can cross an ocean.

Filling oneself on nature’s splendor made us quite ravenous. We found a comfortable log and wiped our dirty hands of the black trail dust as best we could and filled our bellies with Esther and Jan’s leftover cold steak from the night before. We’d paid off our guide, still unsure exactly what he did or how he hooked onto us, and caught the pony ride back to the car. Each pony has a wrangler. Some wranglers have two or three ponies and they accompany them on each trek from the stables to the butterflies. They usually make about ten round trips a day. The trips are 30 minutes each way of tough hiking over a rock strewn, tree root exposed, shifting and dusty trail. The wranglers didn’t hike. They jogged beside or behind the ponies, sometimes hanging onto the horses' tails. Even though the trip was arduous, the wranglers hustled the animals right along. Natural marathoners, these boys were.

We arrived back in Morelia just at dusk and found our way down the cobblestone street beneath the 16th century aqueduct to our hotel. We checked into an 18th century building that had been converted to a hotel. Our room had a window that opened to overlook the street below and the panoramic view of the cities many historic cathedral spires.

Monday, 09 February 2009
Morelia - Up early to explore the historic part of the city. The historic district has been in continuous use since the city's inception and still conducts a full day’s business. We walked under huge porticos where folks were enjoying morning coffee with pastries on tables draped in white linen. We strolled along the cobblestone streets, across the plazas where we saw school children, dressed identical in their uniforms, doing exercises. Inside the cathedrals we examined the vast expanse of the domed ceilings that reflected the morning light creeping through the stained glass windows onto the rudimentary pews and stern religious icons below. We toured local shops and wandered through the Mercados (a generic term for shops and marketplaces). All the buildings are stone and were constructed beginning in the 16th century by Spanish missionaries. Many have huge, heavy, wooden, double-entryway doors that open onto large patios. Some of the huge timbers, used for framing the doorways so many years ago, have dried, causing the dark frame to split at its base. Plaques throughout the city commemorate Mexican heroes. One of the more memorable plaques, on the corner of a hotel that used to be an administrative building in days past, honors the firing squad execution of a would-be revolutionary (right on this spot). Morelia was the birthplace of Mexico’s independence movement. The old city sits high on a hill and has a commanding view of the surrounding plains. Efren told us about one of his ancestors who was the “stupid hero.”

The city posted guards in the cathedral bell towers to warn the populace of the government troops approach. My ancestor was on watch during such an occasion and dutifully began ringing the bell, as well as waving a huge white sheet, to sound the alarm. A gust of wind caught the sheet and blew him out of the belfry onto the cobblestone streets several stories below. He saved the day but died stupidly.

1130 - Depart Morelia: an hour outside the city on the toll road we come upon and accident. There are four bodies strewn across our two lanes of the highway. None of the bodies was moving; one was covered with blood and another’s upper torso with a blanket. The lower part of that body’s left leg was traumatically amputated. Worldly goods, such as they were, were strewn over the highway. There was no evidence of a vehicle, broken glass, skid marks or any other paraphernalia one sees at a motor vehicle accidents. I’m sure the victims were all dead, or rapidly approaching that state. The only official vehicle on the scene was an ambulance with a couple of attendants. They were casually moving about, but not performing any health care procedures. We saw no police cars driving to the scene, even though at the next toll both (20 minutes down the road) there were five police cars in attendance. Efren, later, told us that accidents like this are not infrequent. The highways (toll and free) are populated with vendors selling their wares (baskets, fruit, trinkets, etc.) as well as the pedestrian traffic crossing them. Sometimes pedestrians get hit: often by one of the tractor-trailer trucks. The involved vehicle does not stop and the ambulance does not move the bodies until the police arrive and perform their investigation: all in all, a gruesome scene.
1900 - Arrive PV. Dinner with Ester and Jan in the marina and I drove them back to their hotel.

Thursday - 10 February 2009
0800 - Out to Nuevo Vallarta marina (a newer marina north of marina vallarta where we are staying) to gather information on going south. A complete bust, but we did visit with SULA (Herb and Betty whom I had known at our yacht club in Tacoma).
1000 - Retrieve Jan and Esther from their hotel room and spend the rest of the day on the boat.
1400 - Efren came to the boat to take Esther and Jan to the Airport and their plane back to Alaska.
1500 - We walked over to SUNSEEKER to pick up our Central American flags of the countries that we’ll be visiting as we head south. Some cruisers supplement their income by making flags of various countries
1830 - Up to a local hangout called Pizza & Beer in another attempt to gather information on heading south. Again, a complete bust! PV is not very helpful to cruisers heading south through the Panama Canal.

Wednesday - 11 February 2009
Puerto Vallarta - Lay day attending to email, finances and boat chores.

Thursday - 12 February 2009
Puerto Vallarta - Painted the dinghy with white latex paint for three reasons: to protect it for ultra violet damage, increase its resistance to wear, and upgrade its appearance. Only time will tell if the first two will work and the third showed only a marginal improvement. To add insult to injury, I painted ITCHEN on the tender's left tube. My granddaughter could have done as well. Julie completed an awning between the dodger and bimini.
Many visitors today: two couples from Canada, a couple of guys from Australia with babysitting duty, a couple from the San Francisco Bay area that had a boat named ZARAZAN. Everyone was very friendly and intrigued with our adventure.
1930 - Arrived at an upscale restaurant in old town Puerto Vallarta, whose admission was gained through locked doors. We were the invited guests of FISH n Chips. FISH n CHIPS is a 55’ Mickelson powerboat owned by Roz and Harry. Julie met Roz last year in Cabo San Lucas. They had followed our distress calls on the radio when we lost our transmission. Julie and Roz hit it off, and this is the first time we’ve been in the same port together.
The restaurant is called the Hacienda San Angels and is part of a hotel/bed and breakfast. The buildings sit in the hills of Puerto Vallarta and overlook the old city. Originally there were three houses, built in a semi-circle with a central patio. The multi-level patio is now the dining area and the houses have become guest rooms.

Friday - 13 February 2009
Puerto Vallarta - Stripped and varnished the Ensign staff and cockpit table and re-waxed the boat. Julie caught up on more sewing projects: bags for the fishing poles and spear gun, covers for the hatches, and an insulating blanket for the Engle refrigerator. Fella’s across the dock from us returned after a successful fishing trip and gave us a 36-inch filet of Dorado.

Saturday - 14 February 2009
Puerto Vallarta - Boat work.

Sunday - 15 February 2009
Puerto Vallarta- Bus ride out to Nuevo Vallarta Marina to purchase two used six-gallon diesel cans, for trip south. To CCC (the local grocery store) to re-provision and Julie purchased new bedding to reappoint the V-berth. Cleaned the boat bottom and the inside of the diesel cans.

November 13, 2008 - January 27, 2009 - Ellensburg, WA to Austin, TX

2009-02-18T13:05:00.000-08:00

November 13, 2008 - December 18, 2008
Mazatlan - Not much happening, cruising-wise. I continue to do projects around the boat like re-doing the Bimini and having a new dodger installed, installing the boom vang (a rigid boom vang is steel tube that supports the mast and eliminates the need for a topping lift.), installing the whisker pole pad eye, cleaning and waxing topside and varnishing the cabin sole, scrubbing the boat's bottom and cleaning the dinghy; it’s always something on a boat. Julie has been up in Ellensburg, WA working for a stint and while she was making good money she has broken her ankle (taking care of her boss's dogs). I went up for Thanksgiving and will go up again at Christmas. When we return we’ll provision the boat, do some last minute checks, and start heading south for the Panama Canal.

We did buy a bread maker for making bread while in port. I’m having a little trouble with it though. The first couple of batches were doubles. I had put in twice the ingredients I needed and the loaves were very dense and very heavy. I talked to Molly and she told me to cut everything in half. I did and the bread started turning out great. So I added some rosemary and then changed the oil ingredient to bacon fat; that really made it taste good. Yeast is not plentiful here in Mexico, but I found some in a one-pound package. Before I could open it, I went back to the States and bought a fistful of yeast packets. I must’ve gotten some powerful yeast though because the bread started blowing up and then imploding on itself. It was still tasty, just terribly deformed. I’m working on changing the yeast-sugar ratio.

December 19 - 31, 2008
Ellensburg, WA - Flew into a very cold and snow-covered Seattle. I caught the airport shuttle to Ellensburg and Julie picked me up at the bus stop at 0300. The next day the airport and the mountain passes were closed. While in Ellensburg we made a trip to Seattle for boat stuff, to see Chuck and Shirley (I had met Chuck while when still working and we formed a lasting friendship) and Dik and Kathy (next door neighbors of ours in Federal Way). We even bought a truck in Seattle, but I had barely driven it about a block off the lot and it was low on gas, had no oil in the engine, and the front brake caliper fell off. Still, I thought it was an OK truck to buy. It was a big red F-150 Lariat with four-wheel drive and gray leather interior. Chuck and Julie thought the problems were an omen and I should cancel the purchase. To my regret I did, but what goes around, comes around, as you’ll see. We attended a Christmas party with Julie’s co-workers, but we had a quiet Christmas and New Years, just the two of us. For Julie’s birthday, we went up past Cle Elum and had lunch at a lodge and then went into Roslyn and petted the Elk. There is a fellow just outside of town with a couple acres of land and he feeds the Elk for the winter.

January 1 - 26, 2009
Ellensburg, WA - Packed the car for the trip south. The trunk of the car and the back seat were bursting at the seams we had so much gear. We left Ellensburg on icy roads, snow and sub-zero temperatures. Little did we know, but that would be with us until we exited Colorado at the four corners.
On our journey south we drove through Oregon, stayed the night in Idaho, and the following night in Wyoming where we saw many spectacular accidents - semis jackknifed in the road and cars flipped over on their tops. We arrived in Steamboat Springs, Colorado to do a couple of days of skiing. Our original plan was to take a driving vacation, visit family and friends and ski a little. Julie’s broken ankle allowed her to do only two of the three activities. She was bummed out. While in Steamboat, I skied and Julie rode the Gondola to the mountaintop to have lunch with me. The second evening we took a sleigh ride out to Saddleback Ranch where they prepared a dinner for us and then drove us back to our hotels. It was snowing and the sleigh ride was cold at minus-20 below-zero, but the hands provided us heavy horse blankets to put on our laps. It was quiet with only the sound of the sleigh gliding through the snow and the occasional sigh by the horses as they plodded along. Julie got to rope her first cow. It was the metal kind that the drovers put in the middle of the Ranch house for the dudes to lasso. She got it on her second try.
We left early the next morning for Denver and Pueblo. Rabbit Ears pass and Berthoud pass were nearly whiteouts. In Denver we visited with Danny (my oldest friend from my childhood) and his family and then moved onto Pueblo where we stayed the night with Bob and Carole (my in-laws). Thursday we started for Paonia, Colorado to see Larry (my second oldest friend from my misspent youth) , when we ran into a rock. The trip had been going magnificently and the car was doing just great until we hit a rock 26 miles outside Gunnison. I saw the rock and Julie had pointed it out to me, but I thought the car would clear it. I took it right down the center (as I usually do) but the non-giving, bully rock jumped up and bit the transmission. I stopped to make a quick check underneath and, like a ruptured artery; red transmission fluid was pumping out. It was still below zero. We spun the car around and high-tailed it back for Gunnison. We made it, though I can’t explain how the five quarts of transmission fluid lasted us the half-hour drive. We found an honest mechanic and five days and $1300.00 later we were back on the road headed south. It should be noted here that had I been allowed to buy the truck (that big, red, F-150 Lariat with four-wheel drive and gray leather interior) I would’ve cleared the rock. There is an Irish prayer that goes;

“ May those that love us, love us.
And those that don't love us, May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts, May He turn their ankles
So we will know them by their limping.”

Chuck walks with a limp and Julie’s ankle is broken! See how that works? What goes around comes around. However, being the fine figure of a man I am, I cinched up my Speedos and bore my sorrow with nary a whimper. We had only planned to see Larry for a couple of hours, but he wound up coming down to Gunnison (on Friday) and chauffeuring us up to his house (in Paonia) where we spent the weekend. This turned out to be the highlight of the trip. Paonia is a small mountain town that depends mostly on agriculture and mining for its livelihood. In a town of this size, it is uncommon to see an international classical quintet (viola, cello, harp, piano and flute) perform, but we did. They performed in the Grange, but just the same, culture is culture. We were invited to an after-concert soirée, at one of the sponsor's homes, that was held even further back in the woods accessed by a one-lane, winding road … a path really … (high clearance and four-wheel drive required). In addition to chatting with the cellist, we met an aerospace engineer who is now operating one of the many small vineyards in town, and there were any number of small craft pilots, of which Larry is one. Larry, his girlfriend Ethel, and I went snowshoeing and cross-country skiing on Saturday just up the hill from their house. On Sunday we drove down to Telluride and put in a day of downhill skiing. Julie tagged along, but with her broken ankle she was still doing penance for deserting her husband in the fall. While around the area we saw multiple herds of elk and deer and one fox. Larry and Ethel were most gracious hosts and drove us back down to our car in Gunnison on Monday. We left early Tuesday morning.
By Tuesday evening we were in Tuba City, AZ having dinner with a mutual friend, Helga Baca. We had met Helga back in our working days when we were both on assignment in Bethel, AK. That evening we drove into Phoenix, AZ.
My mother had fallen the week before and had been admitted to the hospital for hip replacement surgery. We arrived just as she was discharged from the hospital. It would be natural to assume we helped her convalesce, but she was moving around pretty well by the time she was discharged. Oh sure, we ran a few errands and moved some things around the house, but she was pretty mobile and independent. My brother and uncle live in Phoenix and check on her frequently. Julie tried to make marmalade jam with oranges from my mother's trees, but it turned out more like marmalade soup … just more penance as far as I’m concerned. After four days with my mother we drove to San Diego to hook up with Tim and dump our winter gear in storage. We had lunch and a movie with Tim and then he had to get back to Camp Pendleton. Our next stop was Austin, TX, a first for both of us. We drove across the deserts of southern California and Arizona and then climbed into New Mexico. We spent the night in Las Cruces (elevation about 6000 ft) and we returned to the cold. The next morning we drove through El Paso, TX where El Paso, America and EL Paso, Mexico are divided by nothing more than a chain link fence. The rest of the day we drove for what seemed like forever through the Texas hill country. The road is pleasantly meandering and the hills are just high enough to block any panoramic view but they are tastefully vegetated with Chestnut trees, I'm told. The highway was littered with over 50 dead deer. Every couple of miles we’d see a deer carcass on one side of the road or the other. There are high fences on the side but the deer apparently can hop right over them. We also saw long-horned goats; strange looking creatures. We drove though Fredericksburg: a quaint little town settled by German immigrants in the mid 1800’s. It retains much of that culture today. We arrived in Austin at Molly’s late that evening.
While at Molly’s I put the car on Craigslist and sold it within 6 hours. We attended two yoga (hot yoga) classes with Molly, learning exercises we can do on the boat. We went to one of Keelyns soccer games (again it was cold!!), a movie, and out to lunch for Texas barbequed ribs on one occasion and boar and ostrich sandwich (at Cabella’s) on another occasion. We had dinner in and dinner out and we haunted the local thrift stores for big suitcases. We found four and packed them to the brim with all the gear we had purchased and stuffed into the car.

January 27, 2009
0630 - Arrive Austin International Airport and check into Continental Airlines with four suitcases for a total of 200 pounds, one computer bag, a backpack and a chick with a broken ankle. The airline was decent and only charged an extra $50.00 for excess baggage and nothing for the broken ankle
1000 - Arrive Mazatlan, Singlar Marina, the sailing vessel ITCHEN. It’s good to be home.

October 26 - November 12, 2008 - La Paz to Mazatlan

2008-11-20T08:08:00.000-08:00

Sunday - Tuesday, October 26-28, 2008
La Paz - Lay days and lazy days spent in the marina. Had drinks with a few fellow cruisers and swapped some stories. A few of the boats from up north are starting to trickle in. It’s an annual migration, up the sea for the summer (to avoid the hurricanes) and back down the sea to La Paz or points further south for the winter (to avoid the cold weather and northerners). Many cruisers elect to stay in Mexico for their cruising lives. Many others are commuter cruisers: six months in Mexico and six months in the States. It is true that the weather is beautiful, not a lot of sailing, but certainly no shortage of cruising ground, with marinas conveniently spaced and the States easily accessed. Many world cruisers say Mexico is their favorite cruising grounds. I don’t get it, but then what do I know?

Wednesday - October 29, 2008
1230 - Cast off from the docks at Marina La Paz. Skies clear, winds light and variable, and the current giving us a nice push out. Blake Rodgers, a single sailor from California signed on as crew at the last minute. I was warming up the engine and getting ready to cast off when he contacted me about crewing to Mazatlan. On the morning radio nets in La Paz I had announced that I would be going to Mazatlan and was looking for crew. I was somewhat hesitant, because one never really knows what they’re getting. One sailor called and said he would like a ride but couldn’t go until the next week. I didn’t want to wait that long.

I had just returned from my final provisioning (ice and beer) and the couple on the boat next to me said they heard a hail for ITCHEN and the crew position. I broadcast on the net and SARA ANNE came back saying they had seen a note on the bulletin board in the cruisers' lounge. I was debating about taking the long walk back up there when Blake called on his handheld VHF. We chatted, over the radio, for a minute and he came barreling down; we chatted, in person, a few more minutes and he departed to collect his gear and check out of the hostel.

Blake is from the Bay area, about 40 years old, single, has saved up some cash, and he is boat-hopping down to the Caribbean. He flew to La Paz, caught a ride with me to Mazatlan, will catch a ride (or multiple rides) to Panama, thru the canal, and then into the Caribbean. He describes his folks as original hippies. As testament to that, Blake was shipped off to Hari Krishna boarding school when he was a youngster. He attended a private college and has quite a varied background: computer programming and financial analysis, as well as practical skills like carpentry and mechanics. He was good crew. He stood his watches, kept his gear stowed, was affable, and he didn’t break anything.

Thursday - October 30, 2008
O600 - N23.26.025; W108.09.721; about one-third of the way to Mazatlan. The boat is moving along nicely and the sailing has been spectacular. We’ve had the jib out most of the night and the NE winds have been steady at 10-15 knots on our port quarter. The moon didn’t rise till about 0230 but the night is clear and the stars give ample light to see by. We’ve only seen a couple of vessels since we cleared La Paz and they were cargo ships; the radio has been quiet.
1900 - Check in on the SouthBound.net over the SSB. The controller was in San Carlos (hundreds of miles north on the mainland side) and there were cruisers on the net from all over the sea (including the weather guy who is in Oxnard, CA). The net was a little slow due to the many relays that were being performed.

Friday - October 31, 2008
0400 - We are closing Mazatlan rapidly. I slow the boat, as I don’t want to get to the harbor prior to daylight. It is poorly marked (by U.S. standards); additionally, it is narrow and shallow and takes a left turn just pass the break wall.
0700 - Daybreak and we can see the fishing boats exiting the harbor; skies clear, seas calm, no wind, and the temperature is 85 degrees.
0730 - Tie up at Marina Singlar, Mazatlan, Mexico. Engine hours: 660.
0800 - Blake grabs his gear and heads off looking for his next ride. I check into the marina, stop in to say Hi to Bob and Raphael and wander about a bit getting my land legs back.

Saturday - Wednesday, November 1-12, 2008
Mazatlan - Cleaning the boat and doing small projects. The weather has been very comfortable; not too hot during the day and cool enough to need a blanket for a small portion of the night. Fixed the dinghy leaks and tuned the dinghy engine. Fixed the computer wi-fi and the computer's operating speed. Ordered a rigid boom vang from Garhauer (best people in the business). I'll pick it up at Thanksgiving when I go up to see Julie (I decided not to install a boom gallows as it was about twice as expensive and the options it gave me just weren’t worth the cost). Filled with fuel: 19.41 gallons ($54.00 Mexican; $43.00 US). Fuel consumption is still about 0.4 gallons/hour. I’ve talked to most everybody on Skype or email, except Tim (who fell off the face of the earth). Brigid is in England and enjoying the first weeks at a new duty station. Molly/Bodhi/Keelyn are adapting to Texas and thinking about moving back to Colorado. I talked to both mothers. I usually Skype Julie once or twice a week as she is working lots of 12 hour shifts and needs her beauty sleep.

I have many more projects to complete and some are real stumpers, but I need to discipline myself better to work with what I have and understand that the boat will never be finished or perfect. That’s a harder pill to swallow than you might think. Most days I have trouble getting motivated, but slowly I’m developing a structure that serves as a booster to jumpstart me.

September 7 – October 25, 2008 – San Felipe to La Paz

2008-10-25T18:01:00.000-07:00

The afternoon we departed Bahia Los Angeles in 20 knot winds

Brigid going for a swim in Puerto Don Juan while we waited out the Northerner

Julie with our Marina host (Fabian) and another cruiser.

San Felipe Marina

Panga fisherman and the shrimp catch for the day. Julie bought 2 kilo's of shrimp for about $6.00

This is our seal buddy that kept us company for 20 miles up to San Felipe

get set ...

get ready ...

ATTACK!!!

Get the idea ... Ace is not letting go!

Sunday – September 7, 2008
San Felipe – Cleaned the boat; repaired the dinghy bottom (fiberglass had worn through and the hull was filling with water) and cleaned and rebedded air nozzles/stems. Julie went up to check the email and sent JAKE down to tell me that “your mother had fainted in church, was taken to the hospital and your dad had given her last rights” … he almost had it right. What Julie had said was that “my mother had fainted in church, was taken to the hospital and that Father had given her last rights.” JAKE, not being Catholic, simply secularized 2000 years of holy orders with the misinterpretation of one simple noun. We called and my mother is fine, although she had just returned from another brief hospital visit, where coincidentally she was cared for by one of Julie’s friends from Alaska. Mini-potluck with MIATIA ROA and JAKE in the cruisers lounge.

San Felipe is small Mexican fishing village renown for its shrimp. In recent years it has grown in popularity with Americans because of its proximity to the States, the beautiful weather and miles of deserted beaches. The village has a population of about 25,000, mostly Americans and mostly gone, for now. The marina – the harbor, which includes the fishing fleet - is two-and-one-half miles south of town and has only one small tienda where limited supplies can be bought. They have the essentials though, beer and ice … everything else is a matter of opinion (in this heat). The marina has only 14 slips and is run by Singlar, the same chain of marinas we’ve staying at all the way up the coast. This one is different in addition to it small capacity, the marina offices are separated (by a public street) from the docks, hence access to the facilities is limited to working hours; they have no pool; no air conditioned cruisers lounge; and, the large screen TV and CD player is for show only (they’re not to be used) … go figure, right!? The docks are the sturdiest of all the Singlar facilities, though. For the most part the staff is accommodating offering to run us into town, allowing us to use the air-conditioned office for wi-fi access and skype calls.

Monday – September 8, 2008
San Felipe – JAKE and us rent a car from one the local Americans. The Thrifty rental car agency in town has three rental cars and they are all rented until December (are you getting a feel for the business atmosphere down here?). “Clyde” rented us his 1995 jeep Cherokee for $75.00 for the day; we paid $20.00 for one day’s insurance, which we got online at 7am; and, we paid $45.00 for gas. Total rental car cost $140.00; day trip to Calexico, good ol’ U. S. of A., priceless. In Calexico, our first stop was “Burger King” where we rubbed the hamburger grease, french fries and chocolate shakes all over our naked bodies. Having debauched ourselves with American fast food we set out to rape the “Super Wal-Mart,” pillage the “99 Cent Store” and plunder “Big Lots.” Loaded down with our booty, we made for the border and arrived back in San Felipe at 2130.

Tuesday – September 9, 2008
San Felipe – Into town with GRUMPY (48’ foot Defever Trawler) and MIATIA ROA for lunch; potluck dinner on the dock with all boats (JAKE, GRUMPY, ITCHEN and MIATIA ROA).
Wednesday – September 10, 2008
San Felipe – Remarked the anchor chain every 25 feet using a 3/8-inch line woven through the chain (the marking paint I applied in Santa Rosalie wore off sometime ago). At the 50-foot marks, in addition to the woven line, I’ve tied several bright colored strands of polypropylene. We’ll see how it works. Dinner aboard GRUMPY’s bridge deck; Julie made chicken curry, and the others brought rice, a cucumber/onion salad, beer, wine, gin and for dessert we had chilled fruit and homemade peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies. Yummmm ….

Thursday – September 11, 2008
San Felipe – windy with big swells from the east. JAKE shoved off at 0700 for BLA. We moved ITCHEN around into JAKES spot; it’s marginally more protected from the swell. Filled with fuel 107 liters = 26.5 gallons + the 20 gallons I’ve added since Santa Rosalia = 46.5 gallons total; engine run time = 152.5 hours (501.5 – 349) so…. 152.5/46.5 = .308 gallons/hour – all-inclusive motoring, motor sailing and battery charging. In the past six weeks we’ve sailed over 316 nautical miles, spent 42 nights at anchor, and used 47 gallons ($130.00) of fuel.

GRUMPY (a solo-sailor) has a dog; really he’s a protection dog … a highly trained protection dog. The dog’s breed is Belgium-Malinois. He is dark brown with a black muzzle, long-legged, shorthaired, weighs about 70 pounds and German Shepard in appearance. GRUMPY has over $7K wrapped up in the dog (Ace) what with purchase price and training. Ace is sharp as a tack, obedient to the “t,” quick as a rattlesnake and very affectionate, when not working. When working, he’s the exact opposite! This evening I got to help train with Ace. I put on an arm guard - a full arm-length carpeted pad that trainers wear while being attacked by a police dogs. On command, Ace attacked me (the arm guard); no matter what I did or how I swung him around he was not to release the bite, nor did he. Another command released his bite but kept him in my face, barking and snapping his jaws like an automated bear trap. This is a highly – highly(!) trained dog and his barking was meant to intimidate me and hold me in position; if I were to run (or even move for that matter) he is trained to resume the attack. While having all 70 pounds of Ace’s lean, muscular body strike at me with the speed of a lightning bolt, mouth frothing, teeth flashing and psychotically clamping his powerful jaws onto the arm guard was a rush in itself, it took every bit of cheek I had (from way down deep in the very center of my testicles), to not panic when the bite released and subsequent barking, jaw-snapping, snarling glare (I mean eye-to-eye glare) ensued. His barking and snapping jaws were as intimidating as anything I can remember and through it all, his eyes never left mine (nor mine his). When we all through, Ace was just another dog begging for attention and rolling on his back to get his belly scratched. Earlier in GRUMPY’s cruising life he was robbed, at night, while he was sleeping. At that time he had two other dogs but they didn’t quite cut it. Due to the substantial loss he underwent he got Ace. At one point, when JAKE was tied up next to GURMPY, Jake had gone out to take a dock shower. It was night and Ace was on the foredeck of GRUMPY, Jake was about to sneak in his quiet little dock shower and from the darkness, only a few feet from Jake, Ace starts barking and snapping and doing everything short of coming over GRUMPY’s rails. Subsequently, Jake’s shower took a little longer than originally planned (as he had soiled himself).

Friday – September 12, 2008
San Felipe – Prepare for trip to San Diego (did you know Diego is James in Spanish … so we were preparing for a trip to St. James, California).

Saturday – Friday, September 13 – 19, 2008
Depart San Felipe for San Diego with GRUMPY, Ace, MIATIA ROA (in GRUMPY’s truck (Ace rode in the pickup’s bed in his cage). Dropped MIATIA ROA at Mexicali (so they could pick up a rental car) and GRUMPY and us (me in the back seat with Ace) made for San Diego. More boat shopping and provisioning in San Diego; swapped out the fortress anchor (to light) for a regular danforth (I now have two danforths and a plow for anchoring), purchased another cooler/freezer, sold the porta-boat and picked up some shackles, a winch handle, propane hose (so I can drain propane from standard tanks into the boats smaller tanks) and some new dock lines to counteract the panga’s wakes. Julie food provisioned for me for the next three months … WOW! We stayed with Brigid and purchased her car and returned to San Felipe with our stash.

Saturday – Tuesday, September 20 – 23, 2008
San Felipe – cleaned bird droppings/slop off the boat, baked in the heat and sweltered in the humidity and prepped for the Seattle trip. Dinner and movies with GRUMPY in his air-conditioned cabin. Julie bought shrimp from the local shrimper’s. I mentioned earlier that San Felipe is the shrimp capital of the world … shrimp season started on September 24th and panga’s from all over the peninsula arrived via truck and trailer. There was a small festival on the docks proximate to the marina. The panga shrimper’s roared in and out all day, very close to the cruisers (docked in the marina slips) leaving huge wakes and really banging the docks as well the boats around. The marina refuses to take any action citing the fisherman’s power, but soon the tremendous wakes will rip out the pilings the docks are attached to and this small but nice marina will exist no more (it’s the Mexican way).

Wednesday – Tuesday, September 24 – 30, 2008
Departed San Felipe for Seattle with an overnight in San Diego. Did some shopping for JAKE and visited with Brigid who is packing for England. Two day drive to Seattle arriving Friday – stayed with friends over the weekend, picked up mail, registered the car and bought a thrift store breadmaker for $8.00. Sunday morning, I went to mass at St. Vincent’s (Julie is not allowed to go as she mocked the church choir), but I didn’t recognize anyone there. Monday, Julie dropped me at the airport and made her way to Ellensburg where she has taken a 13-week work assignment (she also wants to hunt and fish). I flew to San Diego, overnighted with Brigid and made and eight-hour bus trip to San Felipe, via El Centro, Calexico and two bus stations in Mexicali with the breadmaker and JAKE’s supplies. At 2100, I arrived back at the boat in 98-degree heat with 65% humidity.

Wednesday – Thursday, October 1 – 2, 2008
San Felipe – Cleaned the boat again of bird crap (it is sloppy and … and … ubiquitous). Installed the extended range wi-fi antenna and caught up on email. Thursday, I kept GRUMPY company on road trip to Ensenada (across the peninsula) and watched the vice-presidential debates on his TV aboard his air-conditioned boat.

Friday – Sunday, October 3 – 5, 2008
San Felipe – Re-installed the wi-fi antenna (still not working here in San Felipe), repaired the leak in the dinghy (hopefully), installed fins on the outboard (for better fuel consumption and stability), installed a 12 volt plug for the additional refrigerator/freezer installed a new inverter, got dinghy gas, fixed the cockpit table, painted the anchors and anchor chain, fixed the storage sliders (inside the cabin) and fixed the ties on the bimini sun shades. The panga’s (starting at around 0430) still roar in and out at top speed, creating huge wakes and bouncing the docks and the boats around. I called Ma, Molly, Julie and Brigid (to wish her a happy birthday) and caught up on emails. I tried to install the windows update for the computers operating system and it screwed up the computer (it always, always happens and I’m just pissed about it … I don’t know why I keep doing it!) I called Brigid and she told me how to the computer in safe mode so I’m updating this portion of the blog in safe mode, but I won’t be able to get online until it is fixed.
Grumpy made shrimp and invited me over for dinner.

Monday - October 6, 2008
San Felipe – Checked the engine and cleaned the bilge. Cleaned the head – the cat litter was a failure (too heavy, but it empties nice), so I’m back to peat moss. Cleaned the raw water strainer, washed the bird poop of the deck (again!!), cleaned the bottom and prop and did the laundry. Grumpy gave me his old Sirius radio receiver that wasn’t working. It turns out it just had a missing part on the 12-volt plug. I’ll need an antenna and a little portable (12-volt) radio and we should be good to go, but hey, we may just have a radio that’s works all way down to Panama to supplement our iPod. I paid the marina fee in cash … this Singlar Marina (a government owned marina, just like all the other Singlar marinas we’ve stayed at) doesn’t accept plastic.

Tuesday - October 7, 2008
San Felipe – To San Diego (via Grumpy) to pick up Brigid and JAKE’s parts (his engine has been overheating and needs to replace the raw water pump, raw water strainer and impeller – try to get those parts in Mexico). Brigid wound up riding back with one of Barry’s friends who was coming down to visit. We stopped in Calexico to walk across the border to get our visas, no problem … and started to walk back the way we came. A Customs Officer and Border Patrol officer quickly stopped us and directed to go through the border crossing – it’s free to get into Mexico, but costs to get out! Mexicali (Calexico’s Mexican sister city) is a large city and is undergoing road construction on the main drag through town. Of course, the detours are not marked – we made it through with only one wrong turn and the occasional heart stopping barking that Ace would mount if someone were to approach the truck to close. The detour, composed mostly of dusty narrow roads littered with trash and bordered on either side with homes cobbled together with whatever building material was available (discarded wood, flaking mortar, bricks and/or wire) was 10 miles long … for a 500-yard stretch of road that was being improved. We arrived in San Felipe at 2000, unloaded the cars and went out for a bite to eat.

Wednesday - October 8, 2008
0840 – Depart San Felipe. Clear skies, winds 5-10 knots E; small swells from the E. GRUMPY casts off our lines. Brigid and I stand three-hour watches even though she taunted me with 12-hour watches that real (Brigid) mariners (the U.S. Navy) stand aboard real ships (what does she know)!

Thursday – October 9, 2008
0130 – We’re caught in a strong north bound current about 5 miles off and a little south of Punta San Francisquito – our speed slows to 3.5 knots.
0600 – Sunrise, winds and seas calm.
1520 – Anchor in 15 feet of water off Bahia Los Angeles (BLA). Into town for internet and dinner at Guierllmos.
1735 – Up anchor for Puerto Don Juan as hurricane Norbert is expected to blow through (south of here).
1935 – Anchor in 16-feet of water in Puerto Don Juan; engine hours 535. Enter the anchorage in the dark under radar (the chart plotter is not to be trusted as the charts may be well over a hundred years old). Eighteen boats in the anchorage and PACIFIC VOYAGER called on the VHF to check me out. I went for a swim to clean off and showered on deck. Brigid (the real mariner) was afraid to take a dip, but her need for hygiene overcame her fear of the deep and she finally took a dip.

Friday – October 10, 2008
Puerto Don Juan – It Julie and my 4th wedding anniversary. I had been thinking about it all week and forgot to call her … yeah; I think I’ve said enough about that blunder. I ran the engine for 1.5 hours to charge the batteries. JAKE arrived at 0630 from Santa Rosalia (an overnighter) and came over about 0900 to collect their stash; that evening we went over for dinner. I took Brigid fishing (in the dinghy) and she caught her first fish (a sea bass). Brigid is neither a very active nor patient fisherman. She held the pole and when the fish didn’t sacrifice themselves immediately for her plastic lure, she became annoyed … the lure was there, the fish were there and she was there … why weren’t the fish biting her lure!? She did hook into some kind of a fighter though (probably a sierra or yellow tail) that took her lure in a heartbeat (my bad … I used to light a line). To her credit, every time we went fishing she caught a fish. She even caught a mackerel off the boat, just standing on deck and casting.

Saturday – Tuesday, October 11 - 14, 2008
Puerto Don Juan – Stuck here until Norbert passes, but now we’re hearing about Santa Anna’s up north driving high winds into the area. JAKE called on the VHF to tell me Julie had written his HAM email as she was having potentially huge problems with the car (I called and we got it settled). Winds are building, steady at 30 knots with gust up to 40 knots.; lots of wind but no fetch (waves). It’s funny though how quickly a group mindset … sets. 30 knots of wind is certainly sailable. Except for the wind the weather was beautiful. There are the waves of course, but sailing downwind they would’ve just been a push. Anyway, not only did no-one leave the anchorage, no-one left their boats; We’re stayed on the boat, as did everyone else. We read, watched movies, played scrabble, slept and were generally pretty board. It didn’t help that was Brigid’s vacation and I was worried about getting her back safely. She did good (much better than I) as she entertained herself with a couple of electronic gadgets (ZUNE and Sony DS).

Wednesday – October 15, 2008
0915 – Weigh anchor for Santa Rosalia via BLA; winds subsiding – down to 20 knots.
1115 – Drop anchor off BLA and into town for ice and Internet; lunch with JAKE and HIPNAUTICAL and Brigid entertained the crowd with sea stories (she’s such an old salt). All the boats that were in Puerto Don Juan are now outside BLA, doing the same thing we are and preparing to head south.
1430 – Weigh anchor for Santa Rosalia; winds 20 knots NNW, white caps NNW, skies clear. Once outside the bay, after making our turn south, we rolled out the headsail and a nice ride seven-and-a-half to eight knots with gentle four-foot rollers pushing us.
1800 – Winds have all but died now and the sea is starting to settle. We’re standing a rather informal 3-5 hour watch pattern. Brigid taught me how to use her Zune and standing the night watch flew by. Tomorrow I learn how to use the DS.

Thursday – October 16, 2008
0300 – Eight miles off Punta San Carlos; caught in the north current (flood tide) speed down to 3 knots.
0600 – Sunrise and the winds building NNW. MILAGRO is off our starboard quarter (they left San Francisquito (where they weathered the northerners) at 0330.
0800 – Fix Brigid and breakfast (bacon, eggs and toast) and change the propane tank out. I think, this one has lasted us since July 26th (just shy of three months).
0900 – Sailing under headsail alone, average speed seven knots and Brigid is teaching me how to use the Sony DS (I’ll buy it from her before the day is out).
1215 – Dock at Singlar Marina, Santa Rosalia; engine hours 569.5. Secure the boat and walk around town and lunch at the chicken place. Arrange Brigids travel; bus from Santa Rosalia to Tijuana (14 hours), a cab from the Tijuana bus station to the boarder (10 minutes), walk across the boarder to clear customs (up to half-an-hour) and take the trolley to San Diego (60 minutes) and she’s home safe.
1900 – Brigid departs for San Diego. She’s a good sailor and a good companion!
1930 – Called Julie.

Friday – October 17, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Cleaned and washed the boat; polished the rails and hosed-off the cockpit cushions; dinner with JAKE in town.

Saturday – October 18, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Changed the oil, filter and transmission fluid (570 hours); checked the belts, impeller and coolant. Klutzy day though; spilled fresh oil, dirty oil, oil filter oil … if it could be spilled, I spilled it on the engine, in the bilge, on the counter … you get the idea. Sent the propane tank up to be filled ($5). Cleaned out the back berth and found homes for items that had been cluttering it up. Worked on the water tank to no avail; my water pressure has been dropping noticeably more in port tank. Called Brigid and she is home safe! Out to dinner with JAKE, MILAGRO and WINDWARD BOUND.

Sunday – October 19, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Filled with fuel; 29 gallons plus a five gallon spare ($75); 69 hours since last fill = 0.48 gallons/hour. Helped JAKE cast off; they’ll go to San Carlos for bottom work. Changed the water pump (I had a brand new spare); put it in upside down and backwards and spilled lots of water the first time (of course), but I did better the second time. Cleaned the bilge and braided a new anchor bridle. I tried to make bread with our new breadmaker but half the flour didn’t get mixed in the kneading process. That loaf went over the side hit the water with a resounding PLOP. I hoofed it out to the local market and bought some more flour and tried it again. This time I watched the kneading cycle and helped it along. The bread smelled good, but came out very heavy and dense; I wonder if it me or the flour … I’ll knead to experiment. Finished prepping for tomorrows underway.

Monday – October 20, 2008
0920 – Depart Santa Rosalia for Santo Domingo (will harbor hop down the coast to La Paz); skies clear, no wind and seas calm.
Noon – Porpoises abound and the fish are really jumping. WINDWARD BOUND caught a beautiful Dorado and a couple of Bonita’s. I saw Dorado fly through the air chasing a small school of flying fish. The Dorado was good size and moving fast.
1700 – Anchor in 12 feet of water at Santo Domingo (top of Conception Bay); engine hours 578.2
1800 – There are three other boats here (besides ITCHEN) and we’re all gently rolling. It’s cool, no bugs and the sun is just going down in an orange and purple haze … this day is done … forever. Take a quick dip to check out the prop and bottom both are passable; soap myself up and rinse with fresh water. I feel pretty spiffy so I’ll make myself a drink with some of Brigids Caribbean Rum (coconut flavored?) and pineapple juice. It’s good (I don’t why I didn’t fix myself an after work drink when I was younger … I would’ve been a much better human being). I mix ‘em light and you can pooh-pooh it but the liquor lasts longer, the money to buy liquor lasts longer and I last longer. It’s quiet, calm and protected here in Santo Domingo Cove. On this quiet water, with a sunset that is throwing out every hue in the color spectrum to commerate its passing, I’m drinking Brigids Caribbean Rum, writing this and listening to Peer Gents Morning … it could easily have been named Sunset; the strings start out quietly (as sunset begins) and build with a crescendo of wind instruments (the days celebration of it’s last moments) and finally diminishing into a soft willowy whisper as the sun disappears on this day … forever.

Tuesday - October 21, 2008
0700 – Weigh anchor or San Juanico with WINDWARD BOUND. Skies clear; winds NNE 10-15 knots; swells NNE; rollout the headsail for another downwind run doing 7.5 – 8 knots. Dorado are biting and WINDWARD BOUND has caught two after being skunked all summer.
1540 –Anchor in 12 feet of water San Juanico; engine hours 586.8. Clean the bottom and scrub the prop. I guess cleaning the bottom is like mowing the yard, except I like cleaning the boats bottom more than I ever liked doing yard work. TO WINDWARD BOUND for
a Dorado dinner

Wednesday – October 22, 2008
San Juanico lay day. Laze about all day, watch three movies and take a long nap. MILAGRO brought me over a piece of chocolate cake and some homemade cookies. Plan Puerto Escondido tomorrow.

Thursday – October 23, 2008
0800 – Weigh anchor; skies clear, wind 5 knots NNW.
0900 - Wind builds to 10 knots NNW, roll out the headsail
1200 – Pass through Isla Coronado and Baja Peninsula (just above Loreto) and the water gets pretty skinny (2.5 feet).
1400 – Wind has clocked around to the Neand built to 20 knots. Swells NNE at about 6 feet; doing seven knots under jib alone. Pass by the Puerto Escondido window and unwilling to let the wind go I decide to make for Bahia San Marte (good protection from the north, but a care needs to taken when entering.
1530 – Cleared Isla Dizamante and the wind has died, unfortunately the swells are just reaching their peak. Big ten foot rollers tossing the boat for 40 degree rolls (port and starboard) … nothing to be done about it.
1830 – Off San Marte but need to go way south to avoid shoals; just as I make my turn the wind builds out of nowhere and not only do I the stupid swells to deal with, but this inconsiderate wind. Go nearly to shore and then hug the coastline back up into the harbor.
1920 – Anchor Bahia San Marte15 feet water; engine hours 600.8 (67nm made good in 11 hours); tucked in very close to shore and but behind the rocks (nearly flat calm in here).

Friday – October 24, 2008
0715 – Weigh Anchor; skies clear, no wind, low rolling swells from the NE.
1300 – Afternoon winds build to 15 knots; headsail out doing 7 – 8.5 knots.
1930 – Anchor Caleta Partida; engine hours 613. Arrived about 1845; seven other boats in here all anchored in a line one behind the other and right at the 12 foot mark; neatly tucked behind the bluff. I tried to go between them and the bluff, but the water was to shallow and swing room insufficient. Moved to the outside (more exposed to the wind), dropped the hook and it caught but kept slipping at high rpm. Raised the anchor and moved forward in the bay, dropped the anchor again … right on to solid rock (this whole place is an extinct volcano), backed down anyway till it caught in the sand and then backed down to 2600 rpm (twice!) to make sure it was in.

Saturday – October 25, 2008
0715 – Weigh anchor for La Paz; Skies clear and calm, seas calm
1230 – Arrive fuel dock Marina La Paz; engine hours 617. Fill with 19 gallons diesel ($64.23); 47 hours since last fill = 0.4 gallons/hour; reserved four nights in a slip; plan departure for Mazatlan on Wednesday.

Itchen Log July 26 – September 6, 2008 – Santa Rosalia to San Felipe

2008-09-12T15:57:00.000-07:00

a party at La Mona ... really we're all taking a potty break

this is a small whale shark, but we had one come by as big as the boat ...

Don Juan the hurricane hole

this boat has seen better days

Saturday - July 26, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Lay Day – topped off with fuel (added five gallons) and water; worked on blog and found Santa Rosalia dollar store (purchased an electronic bug zapper, sandals for Julie, scrappers for boat bottom and other miscellaneous supplies).

Sunday - July 27, 2008
0500 – Depart Santa Rosalia for Bahia San Francisquito (BSF). It dark, overcast and a north wind; Swells from the east and a one to one-and-half knot current against us.
1130 – JAKE turns around and heads back to Santa Rosalia (trouble with his refrigerator). Not able to make BSF so make course for Bahia Trinidad (19 miles north). Only able to make three to four knots (current), still a lazy wind and east swells uncomfortable.
1515 – Anchor Bahia Trinidad 7’of water; engine hours 377. Protection from south; swells from east and wind from south, boat sets broadside to the waves and we rock and roll. Two shrimpers anchored off our beam. BBQ Arachara for dinner (not bad if cooked well). Elephantes (15-20 knots) out of the west; Elephantes are strong, hot, westerly winds that sweep over the Baja peninsula from the Pacific – caused by the temperature variation from the cooler Pacific to the warmer Sea for Cortez; they can get up to 40 knots. I Stand/doze a lazy anchor watch; winds not above 20 with gusts to 25 or 30 knots and we’re close enough to shore that there is no fetch. It’s like standing in front of a really powerful furnace!

Monday - July 28, 2008
0800 – weigh anchor at Punta Trinidad and plan BSF. Sky clear; SW wind and swells. Roll out jib and sail most of day at 6.5 – 7 knots (under jib alone).
1500 – Strong currents of tip of BSF; counter currents and rip tide at point. Even though we were a mile and half offshore it felt (and looked) like we going upstream against the rapids. Speed slowed to 1.5 knots.
1600 – Anchor BSF in two fathoms; engine hours 381; JUNIATA (37’ Pacific Seacraft) here. I’m not feeling good. My back is sore from weighing anchor in Sweet Pea Cove (after a night of drunkenness) and now I just feel lethargic and no appetite. This all started but I think it’s starting to catch up with me.

Tuesday - July 29, 2008
Bahia San Francisquito – lay day – Spend all day in berth; stomach and back and both painful and stiff; sleep and sweat, sleep and sweat all day. Joined in anchorage by SNOWGOOSE (33’ Hans Christian), ACAPELLA (40’ Valiant) and TONY REYES (a Mexican charter fishing boat, with about 47 pangas tied up around it and a slew of would be anglers). A TONY REYES panga (loaded with kids) comes over to talk with Julie and she trades them a bag full of candy for four, freshly caught, Red Snapper.

Wednesday - July 30, 2008
0700 – Weigh Anchor BSF and plan Bahia Don Juan. Clear skies, no wind, seas calm. Motored into Puente el Alacrans (Scorpion Point) where they boast “an all inclusive wilderness resort, accessible only by boat.” The resort is eight yurts (in very good condition) along with a lodge (another yurt with a house attached) along a strip of white sandy beach. We would’ve explored, but I wasn’t quite up to lowering and raising the anchor.
1735 – Anchor Don Juan in two fathoms; engine hours 393. Julie spots a coyote and we watch as he scouts the shoreline for dinner.

Thursday - July 31, 2008
Don Juan – lay day. Launch dinghy, mount engine and motor around bay (in stages – still feeling pretty well rung out). Very protected from all side and good holding ground. Visit two wrecked 40’ trawler-type fishing boats that have been washed ashore. They’ve been stripped of everything useful, but just the same the paint, decks and structure above the waterline are in good shape, maybe even re-floatable; but I think they are here forever.

Friday - August 1, 2008
Punta Don Juan – lay day. Quiet, we have the anchorage to ourselves. In the morning, pangas will bring vacation families over from Bahia Los Angeles to the see the sunken boats, picnic and maybe do a little clamming. Install a little cubby for my stuff in the head (now Julie has her own and I mine). JAKE arrives late afternoon, now success in Santa Rosalia, but he did run into SUNBOW at BSF. SUNBOW loaned him a refrigerator cooling pump, and now his refer is working better than ever and using less power. Calamari aboard JAKE.

Saturday - August 2, 2008
Up anchor Don Juan and round the corner 6 miles to Bahia Los Angeles (BLA). Walked into town, lunched at a local restaurant and used Internet.

Sunday - August 3, 2008
Up anchor and move down the bay to gecko beach to meet up with CEDLIEH (40’ Pearson). CEDLIEH is pronounced Kaylee (it’s an Irish dance) and they have a little house on the beach. Winds out of the north and had trouble setting the anchor; it took three times because the bottom is covered with ironweed and the anchor can’t ding into the sand. JAKE and ITCHEN joined CEDLIEH at their place on the beach, called Duffy’s Tavern for dinner and cocktails. Spent the evening talking, eating and playing darts. Dinked back to the boats in complete darkness, with no lights, no radio and no life preservers (we’ll need to work on that).

Monday - August 4, 2008
Gecko Beach, Bahia Los Angeles – lay day. Spent morning skinny-dipping
1300- Over to JAKE for a rousing game of American Trivial Pursuit. Jay from CEDLIEH stopped by with cookies Janice had made.

Tuesday – Wednesday, August 5-6, 2008
Motored back up to BLA village. Into town to explore and use the Internet. Swimming and check how the anchor is set. JAKE over for dinner of the Red Snapper Julie swapped in BSF.

Thursday - August 7, 2008
BLA – lay day. JAKE to San Felipe 143 miles up the coast. Sharon has been fighting a topical skin infection (pseudomonas) on her hands for the past four months and Jake has just developed a swelling in his left ankle. They’re going to get fixed and if San Felipe can’t do it then they’ll run up to the States. To ZEPHYRA (42’ Morgan Out Islander) for cocktails and then a Dorado dinner on ITCHEN.

Friday - August 8, 2008
BLA – I into town to use Internet while Julie stayed on boat and conned a panga fisherman out of his days labor – a sea bass big enough to feed four. Julie saw a nurse shark and her baby off the starboard quarter of the boat.
1640 - Up anchor BLA for Don Juan with ZEPHYRA. Caught a very small tuna (although it would’ve been a good sized trout) off the point, but threw it back.
1828 – Anchor Don Juan in our old spot; engine hours 407. At dusk the coyotes started howling from all pints around the bay. After dark we saw three scouting the shore no doubt for some dinner.

Saturday - August 9, 2008
0610 - Don Juan – lay day. Up to take Julie out fishing in the dingy, off the point. Trolled and jigged but got nothing. Hand sewed a rip in sunshade.
I’m perplexed about the boats power management. I think I’ve run my batteries to hard by often letting them drop to around 11 volts before recharging. I now charge the batteries every morning by running the engine for about an hour at 1400 rpm (idle is 1000). My dilemma is should I get other kinds of power sources. Most cruisers have a combination of engine, generator, solar and/or wind for their charging needs. I sold my generator because its amp output wasn’t large enough to charge batteries and I purchased a power pack (portable starting battery with 12V outlet) for emergencies. I figure solar and wind will run me upwards of $2000.00 (each) by the time I get what I need for my usage; which doesn’t include installation hassles and the caveat that if there is no sun or wind, then there is no power. I have a brand new engine that burns well under a ½ gallon an hour if just charging; at this rate I could run the engine an hour everyday (which I don’t) for a year for about $547.00 (about 182 gallons). This past year I’ve ran the two engines 700 hours, if a diesel engine lasts 10,000 hours at this rate this engine would last me 14 years. Another option is to just run the hell out of the batteries; the 6-volt golf cart batteries I’m now using are $100 each (two to a bank equals $200.00); replacing the entire bank every year is $400.00 which is even cheaper than the fuel I would use to recharge them. Based on the above discussion, it’s simpler and cheaper to just stay with what I have and either replace batteries or fuel, unless you see where I’m missing something. Thanks for having this conversation with me, it was very helpful.

Sunday - August 10, 2008
Don Juan – Changed to starboard water tank (port tank has lasted us 2 weeks … looks that will be the average). Battery Bank #2 at 11.5 volts – charged batteries with engine for an hour. Over to beach and on the way a panga load of fisherman gave Julie a fishing line with 6 hooked feathers on it called a “Lucky Joe” and told her how to jig for live bait. Onshore took a trail (ever watchful for rattlesnakes and scorpions) to the other side of the point overlooking the bay just south of us.

Monday - August 11, 2008
0900 - Weighed anchor for BLA for ice, club soda, beer and the Internet. Spotted two nurse sharks feeding. BLA is the breeding ground for the nurse sharks and they come up seasonally to … conjugate. Nurse sharks are very large, very gentle and plankton eaters with huge mouths (4’ in diameter) in which to sieve the plankton. They’re gray with white spots and these were swimming right on the surface; one came alongside the boat and was nearly the length of the boat and the another kind of courted the boat and then swam in front of it gently bumping his tail on the bow. Anchored in 3 fathoms of water; engine hours 409.

Tuesday - August 12, 2008
BLA – It rained this morning – not a big rain just enough to get everything wet. First rain we’ve had since Mazatlan last November. 1300 – Weighed anchor for fishing and Don Juan.
1700 Anchor Don Juan in three fathoms. Julie made some beer bread in the pressure cooker. A pack of coyotes serenaded us as they scouted the shore for dinner.

Wednesday - August 13, 2008
0815 – Up Anchor for fishing – not luck.
1100 – Anchor Puerto Penasco in three fathoms of water. Navy patrol skiff on shore with crew lounging at one of the tables in front of the boarded up fish camp shacks.
1509 - Winds and waves out of the SW so weigh anchor for Ensenda el Quemado. Fish a little on the way over.
1700 – Anchor at Ensenada el Quemado (The Burned Bay). Good south wind protection; engine hours 419.6. Only one other boat here; quite an elegant catamaran named Catherine Estelle hailing from Kodiak, AK. Story is the couple is quite reclusive and has been down here for some time (a least long enough to earn a reputation). They built the boat in an Alaskan native village never having had any previous boating experience. They launched it by rolling it, from yard to water, using 50 gallon barrels. We left them alone. Instead we went beachcombing on beautiful white sandy beach that had a plethora of fishing gear (nets, floats, line) and trash that had washed ashore; lots of little stingrays in the sand close to shore.

Thursday - August 14, 2008
Ensenada el Quemado – Beachcombing, swimming and hiking in the rocks. Saw a whale and her calf in the bay, but couldn’t get close to her.

Friday - August 15, 2008
0700 – Weigh anchor to fish and return to BLA for rendezvous with JAKE, to get ice and water.
1145 – Anchor in three fathoms or water; 423.6 engine hours. SUNBOW and JUNIATA anchored off village. 1300 – JAKE and BEYOND REASON arrive and anchor off village. Provision is 10 gallons of water check the Internet and go to JUNIATA for fishing lures and advice.

Saturday - August 16, 2008
BLA – Into village for more water; I get a little at a time until we’re full. I take in two five-gallon water jugs and fill them with purified water at the local tienda for $1.20 each. I have a little roller cart (the kind to carry luggage) and I put both bottles on the cart (about 80 lbs). I gingerly roll the cart about ½ mile, over a combination of paved and dirt road, back to the dinghy. I load the bottles onto the dinghy; pull the dinghy into the water and motor back to the boat. I hoist the bottles up onto to the boat deck while the dinghy bobs up and down with the waves, timing my … heft at the height of the wave. Then I siphon the water into the boats water tanks (which will empty the 5 gallons container in about two minutes). I’ve put 32.5 gallons of water in the port tank (which was empty) and I figure we have about 22 gallons left in the starboard tank, which we’ve using for the past week.
On one of our trips to the beach, Julie started talking with Guerillmo (the owner of Guerillmos restaurant on whose beach we land our dinghy). Guerillmo not only owns the restaurant, but a tienda up town, a fleet of fishing pangas, a hotel, a 5000 acre ranch, a couple of taxies (that double as boat launching vehicles) and who know what else. Guerillmo hooks Julie up with a fishing pole (what they call and “ugly stick” and line and lures and gives her a few pointers.
1100 – Weigh anchor and head to La Mona, an anchorage at the south end of the bay. We join OSO NEGRO, PACIFIC VOYAGER, EMERALD ISLE, JUNIATA, HYPNAUTICAL, SUNBOW, JAKE, CELIEH, BEYOND REASON and WINDWARD BOUND for the full moon festival. La Mona is a small estuary with rock on one side and sandy beach on the other. We all sat in the water at the mouth of the estuary, rode the tidal current, drank beer and chatted they entire afternoon.

Sunday - August 17, 2008
Quick trip up to BLA for firewood and water. Returned to La Mona and wind had piped up (15 –20 knots) and unable to set CQR (plow) anchor. This isn’t the first time this has happened and it’s not the first time I’ve seen these conditions give this type anchor trouble. After five times, we gave up and switched to the Danforth (which is half the weight) and the anchor set immediately. The plow is out! Forever!! I will sell it and never have another! Julie organized and early birthday party for me on the beach complete with potluck and bonfire. I got birthday cards, a canister of dark chocolate candy, a shell necklace, a CD, a bottom scrapper and a bottle of gin. Considering that these gifts came from a vessels individual stores (in some cases a means of generating income) makes them all the more thoughtful.
We have 426.5 hours on the engine; 77 hours since Santa Rosalia; we’ve used just less than ½ tank of fuel and we need to reserve 31 hours of fuel for a run to San Felipe (probably about a quarter of a tank. We’ll also need fuel for battery charging and any motoring we’ll be doing between now the time we move north.

Monday - August 18, 2008
1100 – Weigh anchor for BLA. Into village for water and fuel and Internet.

Tuesday - August 19, 2008
BLA – Finish filling water tanks (all told, I probably ferried about 14 five-gallon jugs (two at a time) to boat. I added 10 gallons of diesel (two trips to the Pemex station about mile down the road) to fuel tank (now ¾ full).

Wednesday - August 20, 2008
BLA – had winch handle re-welded. Crummy job, but I can grind it down so it fits.

Thursday - August 21, 2008
BLA – Called Ma to wish her happy birthday and ordered flowers for her. Final trip into village for ice and beer.

Friday - August 22, 2008
0945 – Weigh anchor for Quemado and some fishing along the way. No fish but ran into strong flood current coming out of bay and severe chop on the point.
1200 – Anchor in 3 fathoms of water, 15 knots of winds and light fetch. Danforth caught first time and stuck, drifted back using wind and power back (2000 rpm) to set anchor.
Qualms … I told you earlier I was through with the plow (CQR) anchor and probably any other stockless anchor. My qualm is how I got to where I am. I read lots of books (70% of cruisers use a plow anchor) and spoke with lots of folks (my plow has held me in one-thousand-knot winds) over the years about anchoring needs of cruisers. Based on this information and very little personal experience in using a CQR anchor, I developed a personal value system that dictated I use one. The CQR (the one I will never use again) was developed in 1933 by Cambridge professor for, I guess, small craft off the English coast (I’m sure the guy just looked at a field plow and figured that if it worked on land, it would work on the sea). The Danforth anchor was developed in 1939 in America (scientifically by the way). There are many differences in the anchors, major ones including the Danforth’s significantly lighter weight and it has a stock. All the books I’ve read discuss anchor size (i.e. weight); the bigger the anchor the better. The accepted ratio is two-pounds of anchor for each 1000-pounds of boat or one-pound of anchor for each one-foot of boat (for ITCHEN that works out to about the same figure). On one hand these parameters seemed arbitrary (certainly not very scientific), but on the other hand weight of the anchor seemed to, intuitively, make sense. So I was stuck with a heavy anchor that was supposed to be the definitive anchor for cruisers; an anchor that didn’t set 10% of the time (and usually at the worst time) for me; an anchor that I had dragged on and did not trust; and, as a result, a situation that was forcing me rework my anchoring value system. I had used the Danforth on previous boats without any problem or extra gear (like a windlass) and had always had good luck. These past few times when I was unable to get the plow to set, I switched it out for the Danforth and in the same anchorage the Danforth set immediately, but I just couldn’t get past all this marvelous praise for the CQR.
What to do? I started tearing through the cruising books on-board (Chapman, Roth, Royce, Cornell, Herreshoff, etc.) for an answer to my dilemma. Of course they all referred to the same lame criteria and put the plow on a pedestal, until I found one little pamphlet called “Anchors and Anchoring” by R.D. Ogg (co-inventor of the Danforth anchor). It discusses the principals of anchoring, rode, wind, current and wave drag loads, etc. The upshot being, the weight of the anchor has nothing to do with its setting ability or holding power. Setting ability is dependant on anchor design and holding power is dependant on the anchors surface area and its ability to bury itself; “… a 500-pound concrete block had no more holding-power than a four-pound Danforth properly set.” I’ve also noticed (and I think I can say with without exception), that every cruiser has a Danforth as a back-up anchor. Royce cites two instances where vessels were in danger of being washed ashore and each threw over a five-pound … five pound (!) Danforth at the last minute; each anchor caught and held with one holding for over 18 hours in 35 to 50 knots winds. Danforth anchors were used in WWII to kedge huge landing craft off the beach. The new Fortress anchors (aluminum-magnesium alloy danforth type anchors) broke the tugs that were trying to dislodge them in anchoring tests. So if these anchors are so good, and all cruisers have one for a back-up anchor, why aren’t they being used as primary anchors? I think cruisers think that weight is the be-all-end-all; how could they not, it’s difficult to find information that refutes the weight theory. I also think cruisers like the look of a CQR and/or Bruce hanging off the bowsprit; it looks really salty. Not me, I’m going with the Danforth as my primary anchor. Qualm resolved.
Second Qualm; Batteries. I guess I’ve been running my batteries to low. I only been using one bank at a time and apparently I’ve been taking them down to 11.5 volts (10% charge remaining). Discharging the batteries to this level will significantly reduce the lifetime of the batteries (like from 10 years to 3 years, I think), but I didn’t see anywhere in my two electrical books on-board where the specific voltage was covered. I will need to take another look at costs analysis; replacing four batteries every two or three years at $100.00/battery, fuel cost and engine wear resulting from using the engine as a generator; versus, the cost and associated hassles (mounting, storing, wiring … the begets) of solar, wind, towed and/or gas powered generator means of battery charging. Since I have the power pack on-board (emergency starting battery) I going to start using the battery bank in tandem (both banks at once) to minimize my voltage drop and charging time. I’ll get back to you on this.

Saturday - August 23, 2008
Quemado – Strong winds last night; one report had the winds at 20–25knts with gust to 35knts. It was a chubasco without the rain. Anchor held fine and no fetch. Charged for two hours this a.m.

Sunday – August 24, 2008
0730 – Out fishing in the dinghy with Julie. Trolled along the rocky shoreline with no luck. JICCARANDA came over and told us to try off the point; Julie got one strike and actually caught a sierra (whitefish) but the fish took the rapala (a fishing lure) and broke the line just as she got it back to the dinghy.
1100 – Up anchor for Quemado. Changed anchor from 22-pound Danforth to my shiny new ten-pound Fortress anchor, I bought in San Diego. Five-to-six knots on a broad reach under jib alone.
1300 – Anchor Don Juan in three fathoms with 20 knots of wind. Anchor didn’t set due to weeds first time, but set solid the second time. Four boats already here.
1800 – Latest weather report indicates tropical depression Julio is headed north; he has sustained winds of 40 knots and is currently Todo Santos (half-way between Cabo and La Paz on the outside) working his way north. Julio is expected to arrive in BLA on Tuesday during the day (we’ll see - I’ve become very leery of weathermen, rarely are they right, but they sure like the drama). Prudently boats are coming in though, as this is the only hurricane hole in the area. Six more boats have come in since we arrived for a total of eleven; six or so more are due in. We’ll have the entire Baja fleet (17-18 boats) here by Monday night.

Monday - August 25, 2008
Don Juan waiting for tropical depression Julio. All boat in 15 in total; 1 catamaran, 2 power boats and 12 sailboats. Dark, quiet and ominous day in the anchorage.

Tuesday - August 26, 2008
Don Juan - Sunny morning, no Julio; apparently he preferred the likes of the mainland (San Carlos) so bypassed us completely; I think we got about 10 drops of rain (maybe he’ll come back as a chubasco). Fishing this a.m. in the dinghy. Julie caught 2 sierra (mackerel) and 2 sea bass; she is finally happy
1055 – Up anchor for BLA; go the long way around so Julie can get some fishing in.
1310 – Anchor of village in three fathoms; Fortress not biting into sand; changed to 22lb Danforth and bit immediately… I think some weight may be needed to encourage the fluke to dig in.
1400 – Into village for water, dinghy fuel and Internet.
1630 – Out to MAITAI ROA (44’ Peterson, Alex and Sue) for cocktails. Julie scored some lures and fishing tips from Alex. Later MAITAI ROA, JAKE and us into town for dinner of shrimp tacos, beer and ice cream.

Wednesday - August 27, 2008
BLA – more water while I can and 5 more gallons of diesel fuel for a total of 21 extra gallons of diesel and a complete refill on the water tanks. MAITAI ROA, JAKE, JICCANRANDA and us into Guerllimos for dinner. The restaurant is little more expensive than some of the others in town, but they serve hamburgers. It was deserted, as are most shops and business this time of year and we were the only patrons their. We ordered hamburgers off the menu, but the wait staff told us the owner wouldn’t serve us hamburgers, as it was dinner-time. None of us were interested in anything else to eat (to pricey), MIATIA ROA (who spoke fluent Spanish) asked if they’d rather have the business or have us we leave. Initially, they were going to allow us to leave - this is a more common scenario in Mexico than not; we’ve all seen shops decline business rather than meet a customers needs. I don’t know about other cultures, but for Americans this behavior/attitude is extremely discouraging and frustrating. We talk about and are never able to come up with an explanation to this contrary behavior, but we all agree that it may explain the stumbling lack of progress this country repeatedly exhibits.

Thursday – August 28, 2008
Sailed down to Duffy’s (Celieh) for an early dinner and darts. Jay (Celieh) filled my propane bottles using the gravity method. Walked on the beach where we watched their dog (a Pomeranian called Buster) located a crab in the sand, dig like mad after it and then capture it in his teeth.

Friday – August 29, 2008
0730 – Weigh anchor BLA (Duffy’s). Quick stop in the village then north to Bahia Alcatraz. Caught the current through Canal de Ballenas (Whale Channel) and got up 7.7 knots
1330 – Drop anchor in 3 fathoms on a sandy bottom; engine hours 461.7. Took Julie out fishing with not luck
1700 – Out fishing again and Julie caught six tuna. MAITAI ROA and JAKE for dinner.

Saturday – August 30, 2008
0830 – Weigh anchor for Puerto Refugio, north end of Isla Angel de la Guarda. Caught the current again and this time did 8 knots. Two rainstorms formed on the island (off our starboard beam), one dissipated over the top of us and the other gave a little bit of rain as we rounded the north end of the island. Isla Angle de la Guarda is about 40 miles long and 12 miles wide and is covered by mountains ranging in height from 900 – 1300 meters. Puerto Refugio is at the north end of the island. The island … the mountains seem to cause its own little weather pattern. We watched several thunderstorms form on the east side of the island, rain on top and the west side of the island and then dissipate within just a couple of miles. The storm then appears to reform one it hits the peninsula. I guess the west bound, cool, moist sea air can’t quite get over the island hills so it clashes with the warm island air and something has to give.
1348 – Drop anchor in three fathoms of water on a sandy bottom; engine hours 467.1
1700 – Out fishing in the dinghy and Julie catches two tuna and two sea bass) the tuna put up a good fight but the sea bass just go limp once they are on the hook). Tide has gone down remarkably; we are in 5 feet of water and surrounded by jagged reefs. We move the boat out about 500 yards and re-anchor.
2200 – Thunder and lightening! Suddenly the wind swirls around us, dark clouds loom ominously as lightening arks across the sky and big drops on rain begin to splash on deck. Quick we take down the sunshade, secure the lose gear and close the hatches. Immediately, the wind died, the rain stopped, the thunder and lightening abated, and the clouds disappeared. That’s was it … a tempest in a teapot!

Sunday – August 31, 2008
Puerto Refugio – Clean the boat bottom, very few barnacles and just a little moss; only took an hour. Rained twice this morning (one was a decent shower). We’ve had more rain, around this island, in the past 24 hours than we’ve had since we crossed into southern California (almost) one year ago.

Monday – September 1, 2008
0756 – Puerto Refugio crystal clear. We can see the anchor out 150’ from the boat. Weigh anchor for Bahia Willard; winds SW 15-20 knots; waves SW 4-6 feet. Motor sail at 6.5 knots. No luck fishing.
1750 – Anchor in 3 fathoms Bahia Willard; strong wind but no fetch. MIATIA ROA, JAKE and Jakes family here (they came by land).
1830 – Dinner at hotel/restaurant (Antonio’s?) in south end of bay with Jake’s sister (Weta) and brother-in-law (Steve). Julie discovered she like’s fried tortillas. Met a couple (she from New Orleans and he from Montana) that had been traveling the Baja for the past year, pulling a fishing boat and living out of the back of their suburban. They were having a great time!

Tuesday – September 2, 2008
Bahia Willard – Picked up supplies Steve and Weta had brought down (Champagne and some spices) and had dinner on shore at their campsite; much hotter and buggier than the boat.

Wednesday – September 3, 2008
Bahia Willard – flat calm this am and getting hot, fast! Into the campsite and Steve and Weta drove all six of us, in their AWD Hyundai, down to a little tienda out in the middle of nowhere, literally! It wasn’t the end of the world, but you could see from here. We got some ice and ice cream and enjoyed air conditioning, however brief a moment. With deep ruts and jagged rocks, the roads here are worse than mountain trails. The roads are so bad in this part of the Baja that it took Steve and Weta 6 hours to drive the 90 miles from San Felipe to here (Bahia Willard). They’re camped at a place called Papa Fernandez who apparently was tight with the “Duke” (the many pictures on the walls would verify this). Papa Fernandez is a huge empty lot for RV parking and one small little restaurant that serves tacos, burritos and beer. The tienda I mentioned above is five miles (30 minutes by car) from Papa Fernandez and about five miles from the village at the south end of the bay; just another example of how the consumer is separated from businesses – it’s the Mexican way.

Thursday – September 4, 2008
Bahia Willard – Help Steve and Weta break camp and saw them off to further camping adventures. Finish the day in the luxurious heat of Bahia Willard.

Friday – September 5, 2008
0756 – Weigh anchor for Puertecitos, halfway between Bahia Willard and San Felipe. Not a breath of wind and no escape from the broiling sun.
1526 – Drop anchor in Puertecitos in three fathoms of water; air temperature 98 degrees and water temperature 98 degrees; engine hours 492.8; fuel 3/8 full. We went for a swim anyway … kind of like swimming in bathwater. Puertecitos is a small mostly American community that is pretty well closed up for the summer, as are most of the American patronized villages along the coast. But one friendly American soul, “Panama,” who had a house overlooking the anchorage gave us a hail on the VHF welcoming us to the harbor and offering to run us about in his truck should we need anything. In talking with other cruisers we first discovered than not many, if any, had headed north out of BLA and certainly not as far north as San Felipe; indeed, even the guidebooks give the cruising area little attention. Somehow though, they all knew that there were no anchorages and San Felipe would be a 30-hour run. As you’ve read though, on the trip from BLA to San Felipe we spent the night in lovely and for the most part fairly well protected anchorages and all easy day sails.

Saturday – September 6, 2008
0750 – Weigh anchor to catch the flood tide for San Felipe; temperature 100 degrees, humidity 70%, Barometric pressure is 28.30 pounds or 960 milibars. We hailed Panama to say good-bye. Just outside the harbor Julie notice a snake swimming, really skipping through the water. It was an odd thing to watch its silver skin reflecting the sunlight like a mirror, all the time with its head above the water (making good time, too). We watched for some time and as the snake disappeared in our wake. Julie radioed JAKE to be on the lookout for the snake in our wake (wouldn’t you just love it if this happened in a lake, just after a quake) and JAKE saw the snake. JAKE was reporting to us about the snake when a seagull swooped in to rake up the snake. Then another seagull, in mid-air, tried to take the snake away, but only got half, giving the poor snake a real ache.

Ode to the snake

Poor Mister snake
one morning did take
A swim between ITCHEN and JAKE

He got a real ache
when two seagulls did make
Him their breakfast … a fore and aft steak

1330 – A seal pup is swimming off our stern, sometimes coming up to the beam and then slipping back into our wake. Occasionally, he would pop-up take a quick look around and then duck just under the surface of the water and glide in the slipstream of the keel. We tried to feed him some smoke salmon, but he was totally disinterested.
1628 - Arrive San Felipe marina; engine hours 501.5. Into town with JAKE for dinner.

the other side of the arch

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This is and the previous picture is an arch in Calita Lupita on Isla San Marcos. We took the dinghies under the arch (very low) and wound up the other side (imagine that). Julie hiked up over the top and took this picture looking down through a hole in the rock.

Spelunking ... kind of

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Julie and her squid buddy

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This is one of the smaller squids we caught. Thad cleaned them all right on the cooler. Not much to it; cut off the head and tail, slice open the body and gut it and peal a layer of skin off. A squid is all muscle.

The Squidders

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Rick, Jessica, Julie and me with the big one ...

Julie and Thad with the 50lb squid

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This was back at the dock. Thad is holding up the squid by the tail with a gaff.

July 16 - 25, 2008 – Santa Rosalia and Isla San Marcos

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Wednesday – Friday July 16 - 18, 2008
Santa Rosalia – lay days spent lounging around in the heat and sweltering humidity. Having the sun shade … any little bit of shade really helps cool things down. Julie sewed new covers for the cockpit cushions. We were going to leave two days ago but Julie got a migraine so we’ve just hung around the marina moving about slowly and quietly.

Saturday - July 19, 2008
1100 – Depart Santa Rosalia for Isla San Marcos and Sweet Pea Cove. Fuel up ($83) 31.25 gallons – engine hours 349, La Paz engine hours 272 (349-272) = 77 hours; 31.25 gallons / 77 hours gallons = .4 gals/hour … hooray, hooray, hooray!!! Thirty minutes outside the breakwater Julie’s migraine returns and so do we.

Sunday – July 20, 2008
Depart Santa Rosalia for Isla San Marcos 9.9 miles south. Julie much better now; she
decided to throw out her fishing line, didn’t even get the line unraveled and she had hooked a small to medium dorado (mahi-mahi). After we got her (Julie, not the fish) settled down, we brought the fish in, cleaned it, threw it in the freezer and we’ll have dorado tonight for dinner.
Anchor at Isla San Marcos, Calita Lupita. Water clear and cool. We we’re going to go snorkeling, but Sharon on JAKE got stung on the ear by a jelly-fish, so I cleaned the bottom of the boat instead. Julie stayed on the boat!

Monday – July 21, 2008
Up anchor and back to Santa Rosalia for final provisioning before heading north. To local resturant for a taco and torta lunch; napped in the afternoon and to Terco’s (the chicken place) for dinner.
2100 – Julie went to talk to some fisherman on the dock about her lures. It was a family of three (Rick the dad, and Thad and Jessica his son and daughter-in-law); they had been in the Baja for the past month and-a-half fishing on Thad’s power-cruiser (they had trailered down from California). They had a fairly successful trip and had caught all they wanted except they had not gone squidding. They gave Julie a huge piece of Dorado (they had caught) and asked her if she wanted to go squidding; the only problem was they couldn’t launch their boat (the ramp was blocked by some overturned panga’s … go figure). She said sure, and came running to ask me if I wanted to go - This is squid season. Santa Rosalia is the squid capital of the world and squid smell fishy, times ten! The pangas, hundreds of them, run out at dusk high, light and fast and return at varying hours in the early morning low, slow and heavy. Every evening from top to bottom, the eastern horizon twinkles with a long row of white lights that stretches for miles (pangas squidding). The harbor is small and shared by all; the two small marinas, the hundreds of panga’s and the squid processing area. The smell of squid is pungent and a tinge of squid odor is always present; were it not for the prevailing southerly’s it might truly be uncomfortable. Squid, in addition to being stinky, are foul, messy, carnivorous and cannibalistic creatures. In visualizing myself neck deep in beaks, tentacles, an odd assortment of squid bits and ink all while rolling on a swell, in a small boat, in muggy heat, in the dark - I said “no.” A bit later I thought to check on Julie and see if I had contact information of these strangers (whom I had yet to meet) and make sure things were on the up-and-up. Julie was on our boat milling about and didn’t seem in a big hurry to get going. I saw the two guys and the girl waiting with their poles and talking to a panga driver. Julie said she was all ready to go, it didn’t look like it to me but what do I know. As I left the boat and headed back up to the cooler (the only air conditioned room in the marina), Julie asked me if I could help her take down the sun-shade. I asked “why?” “Well, won’t it be in the way when we are squidding” she asked? I murmur to myself “how is the sun-shade going to be in the way while your squidding?” After several more meaningless and confused interchanges, it became clear to me that Julie was going to take ITCHEN out squidding! “BY YOURSELF” I exclaimed! “Yes” she said! “OVER MY DEAD BODY,” I pronounced! “Well, I thought that’s why you might want to come” she said knowingly. “Ya think” I retorted. By this time our three would be squidders were stealthily ambling up the dock, anxious to be absent for the family quarrel. I had now been pressed into service (whoa be the man that gets between Julie and her fishing) and I had to run along and catch our wanna-be squidders. We grabbed their gargantuan cooler, poles and back we came to the ITCHEN, took down the shade and cast off.
Julie had just bought a squid jig that afternoon and was now beside herself with the imminent, if unexpected, chance to try it out. A squid jig looks like a torture device from the Tower of London; it’s spherical with three sets of floating crowns fitting over a 12’ inch shaft. Each crown is luminescent and has 8-10 stainless steel, razor sharp one-inch long prongs that jut out at 60-degree angles. The jig lure is lowered into the water (squid live below the 1000 foot level during the day and then come to the surface or very near the surface to feed at night) and jigged, or bobbed to entice the squid to latch on. They wrap they’re tentacles and arms around the jig and are unable to free themselves. We had just watched an Internet video on them that afternoon and learned that squid have two tentacles and 8 arms. They snatch (two one-hundredths of a second) their prey with their two tentacles (which are longer than the arms) and then bring it into the eight arms and pull it into the beak; dinner at chez-squid. Squid live about two years and currently there is a huge influx of Jones squid ranging from Central America to Alaska where they are decimating the herring and sardine populations. The video showed hundreds of them swimming backwards and forwards with equal agility and attacking anything including each other. There was a crew from animal planet here filming the squid feeding frenzy that happens here, seasonally. The dive crew was wearing chain-mail armor over their wet suits. Upon return one of the divers, who had a great deal of experience in diving with all sorts of sea life said, “this was really scary.” Go to the Internet and look squid up, they’re really quite fascinating and watch for the squid feature on Animal Planet in a couple of months. Our squid were Humboldt Squid and draw top dollar for the edibility.
We took ITCHEN out 2.6 miles from the marina. The water was getting steadily deeper when a pattern of wildly fluctuating depths commenced. We were not as far out as the panga’s, but thought we’d try the squid lures here. Thad bent on a squid lure to his super-heavy-duty-deluxe-ocean-going-fishing-pole and it wasn’t ten seconds and he had a hit. He wrestled with the squid for about five minutes and brought up a small (for that evening) 24” squid; turning all sorts of different colors. The squid shot off a couple of geysers of water (their propulsion system) as Thad brought him next to the boat, Rick gaffed him and they flipped it into the cooler and slammed the lid. A minute later Thad opened the cooler, cut the tentacles away from his lure and we were back squidding again. This is how it went for the next 45 minutes. As soon as we dropped the jig in the squid would attack it and whoever had the pole would spend considerable time and effort to bring the squid in (usually with two or three of his buddies feeding on him). Squid are ferocious fighters and very strong. Rick brought in a 50 pound squid (the largest of the evening) with some doing, but we all caught at least one. We were making quite a fracas and several panga’s took notice of us. One panga came pretty close and it was really something to watch them work. The panga is a 20 to 25 foot, deep sided, open boat powered by a large (85-100 hp) outboard; manned by a crew of two (or more) dressed in bib waterproof coveralls. They have a bright light on the panga (which attracts the squid) and they had four lines going into the water, two on each side, 3/8 – ½ inch thick (nothing fancy). The crew alternated from one side of the boat to the other and as quick as they set the jig, a squid would hit. Hand over hand they hauled up the line (squid squirting water everywhere), flipped the squid in the boat, lopped off its head (including tentacles) and tail, threw the body in the bottom of the boat and the head and tail over the side along with a clean jig. With one step the fisherman turned to the other side of the boat to work that line and repeat the exact same procedure. They were like machines, opposing swings of the pendulum, back and forth the two-crew moved in perfect unison, always only one crew to a side, keeping the boat in balance; haul, cut, cut, toss, toss … toss, pivot). They had as many squid in four minutes as we had in 45 minutes. Our catch for the night totaled 150lbs and after gutting and filleting we probably had 60 lbs of meat. We did not keep the tentacles, which we should have as it was good meat. After doing some reading, I found that the only part of the squid that is not edible is the beak. We had enough squid for the entire dock and boats in the anchorage, as well.

Tuesday - July 22, 2008
Julie up early to hand out squid. Motored to Isla San Marcos and anchored in Calita Lupita. Stopped by BEYOND REASON and WINDWARD BOUND to hand off some squid. In addition gave squid to SUNBOW, JUNIATA, HIPNAUTICAL, JICARANDA, MY TYROLA and JAKE. Prepared for a predicted Chubasco (a strong wind from across the sea here in Mexico) secured everything, removed the sun-shade and set up anchor to release if needed. No Chubasco.

Wednesday - July 23, 2008
Moved around the corner to Sweet Pea Cove. Anchor finally set correctly. I had been having trouble setting it recently and I had lost some confidence in it. We backed down on it pretty aggressively and it caught right away and dug in. While snorkeling to check on it I noticed a huge manta ray about 20 feet to my left … what a rush!

Thursday – July 24, 2008
Sweet Pea cove – lay day. Overcast with some blustery wind, no rain, no fetch, but it kept things cool. Over to BEYOND REASON for cocktails in early evening – back to ITCHEN just before the new day with way too much tequila and rum on board. Julie fell in the water trying to get on the boat and we both fell into bed with our heads and stomachs swirling. I’ve been that drunk before, but I was really young and really stupid!

Friday – July 25, 2008
Up anchor for Santa Rosalia. Motored over to JACARANDA (39’ Allied Seabreeze) for a fishing guidebook. Washed down the boat; hauled the dinghy, cleaned the bottom and put it up on deck for the trip north. Topped off with fuel and water and had dinner of pizza and ice cream with JAKE and SUNBOW (50’ Chris Wright Catamaran). We’ve been at sea, or living on a boat, for one year, today. We’ve made five trips back to the States; bought and sold another car; gone through two sets of bicycles; and replaced nearly everything on the boat. If we had followed our original plan and nothing had gone wrong, we would probably be in America Samoa or there abouts and much better off financially. But this is OK; we’re doing the Sea of Cortez and changed our thinking from going west, to going east. Those that we’ve talked with who have made the puddle jump (crossing the pacific) sailed for 30 days only to find extraordinarily limited and expensive provisioning. One family spent $100 for a pizza and four cokes. Another spent as much for several pieces of fruit. I would like to sail to New Zealand, but for now we plan to linger in Central and South America this season, maybe visiting the Galapagos Islands; transit the Panama Canal next season; sail the Caribbean and the East Coast; eventually crossing the Atlantic to see Brigid in England.

Julie's Dorado

2008-07-16T17:17:00.000-07:00

This is the male (left) and female dorado fish Julie caught. The colors are just spectaclular, flourscent green and blue; the pictures don't do the colors justice. In the blog I said the female (right) looked more like a proper fish (more of a sloped head), but I see the picture doesn't show that very well ... anyway they were good eaten'.

Big Petroglyphs

2008-07-16T17:05:00.000-07:00

These images are on a hill overlooking the resturant where we got the crummy hamburger by Isla Requeson (there were many other images on the surrounding hills, as well). All the images look natural enough, but what is unique about this one is the white outlining (actually desert sage) and the image on the left appears to be a whale (... you've just entered the twilight zone).

Itchen Log July 6-15, 2008, El Burro - Santa Rosalia

2008-07-16T16:56:00.000-07:00

Sunday – July 6, 2008
El Burro – Dinghy out to the reef for snorkeling with BEYOND REASON; saw clams and big angelfish. The angelfish were curious and we could almost get one with a blue mesh bag we were swimming with. Dinner on BEYOND REASON. I slept in the cockpit and Julie in the v-berth … it was cooler for both of us.

Monday – July 7, 2008
El Burro – Overcast morning, which kept things cool for a bit. Switched anchorages to Posada Conception (next anchorage north) for the night. 20 knots of wind at 2am; got up and checked the anchor (even though we have an anchor alarm). Clear night with lots of stars; the wind died as quickly as it had risen.

Tuesday – July 8, 2008
El Burro – Anchored back in El Burro in the am; afternoon cocktails with the remaining cruisers then dinner on JAZZ with JAKE (champagne, wine, caviar, two kinds of curry and lemon meringue pie). During the dinner conversation we reflected on cruising. One of the questions JAZZ always receives is “what do you do with your day?” On a boat one can’t tackle a single problem … it’s sort of like the “begets.” In order to attack a problem, a variety of things need to be moved (or repaired), which usually leads to another discovery (minimally a distraction) of something else that needs repair … there is always something on a boat that needs repair. It took a while for us to understand this, but we’re beginning to accept it now (this as opposed to fixing/installing something once and being done with it forever). The projects can be overwhelming at times because of the number in addition to the “begetting” problem. There is a steady pressure to keep on top of things lest they get out hand. Cruising, for us, has not been the picture of blue skies, azure seas, fair winds and white beaches with scantily clad … persons … lounging about one sees on the cover of sailing magazines. It has been an adventure, to be sure, just not what we expected. There is a good deal of work and inconvenience involved in the day-to-day cruising life, but upon reflection we’d rather be doing this than living on land (with all it’s conveniences).
For example, power consumption (a land convenience) is closely watched by all cruisers. Usage is measured in amp/hours and fuel; all cruisers know just what it takes to keep their batteries charged, which of their electronics is the piggy (most will say it’s the refrigerator and water maker) and how much fuel they need to keep the batteries charged up. We’re running the engine one or two hours a day to keep up with our power consumption especially when we use the computer (that’s using only one of the two banks of batteries). Our power consumption is nothing compared to almost every other cruiser we’ve met. Most have multiple solar panels, a wind generator, a fuel generator and the engine; and they use them all. We have only the engine and a 600 amp portable power pack (we sold the generator). We don’t want, nor do we think we need the hassle, expense or complication of the alternate power sources. At anchor, we run one or two interior lights (maybe a couple amps in 24 hours), a refrigerator rated at 1.5 amps/hour (which cycles on every 10 minutes for 45 seconds) anything else uses micro amps. We can easily go for several days (at anchor) without turning on the engine, if we’re not using the computer (4-5 amps – wi-fi is usually not available in anchorages). We figure we can run the engine for two hours a day for 88 days (minimally) without running out of fuel.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008
El Burro – JAKE headed north to Santa Rosalia this morning. We headed south, deeper into Conception Bay, to Isla Requeson. Cruisers had mentioned a good hamburger joint on the beach along with a pretty well stocked mini-mercado; the anchorage was windy; the hamburger was marginal (we ordered a mushroom bacon-swiss burger, but they didn’t have any mushrooms or bacon ) and the grand total (along with a beer and two soda’s) was $16; the mini-mercado was vacated, but … “the memory is priceless.”
Julie programmed the MMSI function on the VHF;(TJ was unable to read the instructions and program it himself!) a feature that allows one vessel to call another without openly hailing on a frequency. We switched water tanks, 44 gallons has lasted us since June 28 (12 days) - we can do better. Still on first propane tank (those usually last about a month); Fuel ½ tank - we’ve run the engine 65 hours on half tank a diesel (that is just outstanding!). Spoke with Tim via satellite phone, he ships out for Okinawa on Friday.

Thursday – July 10, 2008
El Burro – Dinghy to Bertha’s and swam. El Burro has a southerly breeze most afternoons, which help keep’s things cool. The heat in the sea is not as bad as we were led to believe, but the humidity is wicked at 70% and will continue to rise. We do anything we can to keep cool (shade, minimal clothing and ice cold drinks).

Friday – July 11, 2008
0715 – Weigh anchor for Santa Rosalia. Winds from the SW, moderate southerly swells and cloudy. Able to let out the jib and get a little boost (average speed 4.5 knots).
1400 – Julie caught two Dorado’s (dolphin, mahi-mahi) off Isla San Marcos (a male and female). Julie had been trolling off the back of the boat since La Paz and was disconsolate over not having caught anything. The fish were about 24-30” long and maybe 10-12 pounds. They’re a beautiful fluorescent green and blue with the male having a much more pronounced forehead and the female looking like a proper fish. We cleaned them underway over-the-side (messy and awkward), filleted ‘em and tossed ‘em in the refer.
1740 – Arrive Singlar Marina Santa Rosalia; engine hours 349.5; fuel just over ¼ tank remaining. Out to dinner with JAKE at Tercos Pollo Grande. Julie had a two-piece and I had a four-piece BBQ chicken dinner along with beers and soda for $20. I say this only so you can compare that with the single hamburger we had two nights ago and spent $16.

Saturday – July 12, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Washed and waxed boat … all cracks, corners and crevices; full day job. Julie made the Dorado for dinner with JAKE; West Wing after.

Sunday – July 13, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Awoke to church bells. Santa Rosalia is an old copper mining town that has similarities in layout and building structure to a company (mining) town in West Virginia. The church is famous in that it was built by Gustave Eiffel (of Eiffel Tower fame) in France, deconstructed and then reconstructed in Santa Rosalia in 1845. Santa Rosalia is enjoying some reinvigoration with the current high price of copper; apparently a Canadian firm has bought out the old mine and is leeching the copper from the tailings using arsenic. Walked around town and did some minor provisioning. I changed the transmission fluid (all 120cc) but what a pain in the neck to get to; I used a 100cc glass syringe and a foley catheter to aspirate the transmission fluid. Julie sewed some t-shirts for me and a dress and blouse for herself.

Monday – July 14, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Resealed the port aft chain plate; filled the water tanks; cleaned and UV coated the dinghy and filled it with gas. Toyed with the ideas of putting on dinghy wheels, but it was too humid and we’ve never liked the ideas of putting holes in a boat. We’ll hold off on the wheels for now. Temperature is in the high nineties with 70-80% humidity; the height of the day is next to impossible to work as one just drips with sweat. We’ve installed fans throughout the boat (two in the v-berth and one in the main salon) and they run constantly. Naked, or as few cloths as is decent, is the uniform of the day and actually last night we got a little cool and used a blanket; it’s the first time feeling cool or using a blanket since La Paz.
The Santa Rosalia Singlar Marina is the most complete Singlar Marina we’ve been to yet. It has a working bar with disco outside and a single performer inside; air conditioned cruisers lounge complete with magazines, books, wi-fi, big screen TV and DVD/VHS player. The pool and hot tub work and bathrooms are immaculate; 24 hours security and the marina is located near the center of town (certainly easy walking distance to anywhere).

Tuesday – July 15, 2008
Santa Rosalia – Rode bikes around town and topped off the batteries with water. Pot Luck in the cruisers lounge and West Wing with the whole group of Cruisers. Ice Cream afterwards.

petroglyphs

2008-07-06T17:06:00.000-07:00

this one says "fishing was good"

overlooking Playa El Burro

2008-07-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

this picture is from a top the hill we climbed behind the cove at playa el burro where we spent July 4th. ITCHEN is tucked in just behind the lee of the rock (at the top of the cove)

dolphins

2008-07-06T16:46:00.000-07:00

Dolphins come out to greet us whenever we're in the neighborhood. Look closely and you can see a couple turned on their sides to eyeball us ...

Bahia San Francisco

2008-07-06T16:37:00.000-07:00

ovelooking Bahia San Francisco; we are the third boat in from the far shore

Seal Rock Isla Partida

2008-07-06T16:27:00.000-07:00

this is where you can swim with the seals. Lots of seals around, barking, swimming out to boat, beckoning you to come play ...

Isla Partida

2008-07-06T16:16:00.000-07:00

... this is what the entire island looked like honeycombed rock alow and aloft. The island ... the area are volcanic remants. The iron content is so high the ground on which we walked "rings" when tapped. It is also quite hollow ... somewhat disconcerting while walking a top.

overlooking the Bahia Caleta Partida; we are not the big boat ... we are the small boat front - left

2008-07-06T16:07:00.000-07:00

Julie under a volcanic rock on Isla Partida

2008-07-06T13:13:00.000-07:00

Puerto Escondido

2008-07-06T10:02:00.000-07:00

Itchen Log, June 5 - July 5 , 2008 - La Paz to Playa El Burro

2008-07-06T09:59:00.000-07:00

Thursday - Friday, June 5-6, 2008
Baja Peninsula - Drive to San Diego along the Baja Peninsula; terrain is very arid and the road is long, narrow, sometimes twisty as a spirochete, sometimes straight as a rail that extends into nowhere. Unlike the mainland side (of Mexico), the towns are cleaner; services are farther apart though. The highway from La Paz crosses the peninsula (from east to west) five times (wanna make sure you don’t miss anything). We overnighted in Guerrero Negro (Black Warrior) a sizeable town named after a fishing boat that went aground; were stopped at multiple army checkpoints (which were very serious and inspected the car), discovered tourist resorts (literal oasis’s in the dessert) and got lost in Tijuana for about an hour (a town by the way that we think is the cleanest we’ve seen so far in Mexico). Arrive Brigids at 22:45.

Saturday – Wednesday, June 7- 11, 2008
Seattle - Catch a flight to Seattle to see Chuck/Shirley (VALA); stay with them on Saturday night and drive to Oregon on Sunday. Stay on the Oregon Coast (near Banden) with Gary (COK CABUK) Sunday night and then drive back to Seattle stopping to see Ted/Cindy (HARRIER) on the way back. We had a wonderful time and serendipitously hooked up with Molly, Bodhi and Keelyn at Chuck and Shirley’s (Molly’s family was in Washington for a wedding). Poor Chuck and Shirley, we all descended on them Monday evening after Julie and I had missed a lamb dinner Chuck and Shirley had specially prepared for us. They were most gracious though. Did a little boat shopping; fed up with Dunato’s (a used boat chandlery) that generally overcharges. I was looking for winchers (a rubber ring that fits over the winch and gives it some self-tailing ability); new at West Marine they’re $40 for a pair; Dunato’s wanted $34 for one. When I pointed out the discrepancy to the clerk, he refused to change the price. I’ve seen Dunato’s do this before with a cruising book; the original price sticker was still on the book, but their price was more than the original sticker price! What’s so galling is their unwillingness to explain themselves. I also talked with Chuck about the MER deal (transmission rebuilders that are denying any accountability for the transmission failure). As much as I’d liked to stick it to MER and businesses like Dunato’s (that are a blight on the marine industry), the best course (though harder) probably, is satisfaction in knowing that what goes around comes around. They’ll get their come-uppance.

Thursday – Tuesday, June 12 – 17, 2008
San Diego – visit with Tim and Brigid, went to a couple of movies and did a little boat provisioning (stuff we’re unable to get in Mexico (sun dried tomato’s, nutmeg, diet tonic water, rutabaga, spaghetti squash, etc). Picked up JAKE’s mail and some provisions they needed. Drove back down the Baja with an overnight at Santa Rosalia and a stop at Puerto Escondido for breakfast with JAKE; a total of a 21 hour drive with two very long stretches where no services were available. We very nearly ran out of gas-twice.

Wednesday – Saturday, June 18 –21, 2008
La Paz, Mexico – Hosed two weeks of layered, desert sand off the boat. Had the dinghy repairs finished, installed winchers (they work great) and ground the anchor shank down on the plow anchor to refit it with a non-swivel shackle (thinking that was why the anchor wasn’t setting); bought a couple of used Dahon folding bikes; an Hawaiian sling (spear with a wrist bungee for snorkel fishing) and some fishing lures. Settled with Marina La Paz ($450 for three weeks) and replaced generator with a portable power pack; sent Bob the car title and filled with water and fuel ($54) 77.53 liters/4 = 19.38 gallons/ 40 hours = .48 gal/hour (yeah!!!)

Sunday – June 22, 2008
1140 – Depart La Paz, clear, cloudless day; breeze and current from the east. Checked out with port captain via marina.
1940 – Anchor Bahia San Francisco; engine hours 280.6. Gave a half-hearted attempt at the plow and quickly changed it out for the new fortress anchor (high strength, light weight danforth anchor) I had bought in San Diego. One of the anchors advantages is its weight, which is also a disadvantage, as the anchor tends to skip across the bottom; it set on the first try though. Discovered about 30 cc of oil in the bilge … maybe a bolt is loose.

Monday – June 23, 2008
1020 – Depart Bahia San Francisco; clear skies, no wind; one-foot swells from the south.
1650 - Anchor Los Gatos; first on the village (several fishing huts) side and then move to the more popular anchorage (on the front side of a spit) after several panga’s buzz us on the way back from a days fishing. Rolly, rolly anchorage (probably the worst anchorage we’ve been in) … the boat rolled wildly all night! Engine oil leaks dramatically worse; looks to be main bearing (can’t find any oil from any other place on the engine). I am pissed and pissed and pissed!!! Boat work … or failures, are beginning to drag us down.

Tuesday – June 24, 2008
0850 – Weigh anchor Bahia Los Gatos; clear skies, no wind; small south swells. Spoke with Bob about the oil leak and he thinks it might be the main bearing based on my description; although the engine is brand new, he’s never seen one go out before on a new engine and the boat is not vibrating (shaft misalignment which would be the cause of the main bearing to go out). There is only one Yanmar dealer on this side and it’s the same guy that we first went to in Cabo San Lucas (not going back there). The choice is to continue on, refilling with oil until we return to Mazatlan in the fall, or go back to Mazatlan (250 miles SW across the Sea of Cortez), now. We decide to press north.
1300 – Drop anchor Bahia Aqua Verde; engine hours 292.3; used 1.5 quarts of oil in 4 hours; fortress anchor is difficult to set.
1800 – Spoke with JAKE via the SSB; they will come down to Aqua Verde (they are in Puerto Escondido) tomorrow to pick up their supplies and lend moral support; we plan to head back to Mazatlan. We are sick, heartbroken and terribly discouraged.

Wednesday – June 25, 2008
Aqua Verde – clear day calm seas; cleaned bottom until Jake arrives. They come over for lunch and we lament, communally over beer and an extra large platter of Julie’s delicious meaty nachos, discussing reasons, options and solutions for our troubles. I open the engine and invite Jake to take a look. He crawls around, positions and repositions the mirror, runs his hands all over the engine and starts to focus on the starboard side of the engine. I dismantle the drawers and remove the starboard side fire-wall and there is a tiny black trail of oil, just barely visible. Jake had found the source of the leak. It is a brass fitting to which the electronic and pressure oil gauges are mounted. We try to tighten it, very gently, but it spins off; the leak has come from a tear in the brass fittings threads and tightening it just spins the fitting off the distal threads. In short order though we were able to remove the remaining brass threads from the block and attach just the electronic gauge to the engine. Oil leak gone (changed the oil while I was in there). I’m not sure if the fitting was defective or the weight of the two gauges extending out in combination with the engine vibration caused the fitting to break … whatever, the engine is only getting one fitting for now. Jake saved the day, a trip to Mazatlan and a good portion of our cruising summer in the Sea of Cortez. Yeah for Jake!!

Thursday – June 26, 2008
0940 – Weigh anchor; clear day, no wind, calm sea. Swan prior to departure … right over the top of 18-inch stingray; he was just cruising along.
1445 – Arrive Puerto Escondido; engine hours 299. Enter the “ellipse” (a small secure anchorage in the harbor) and unable to get the anchor to set after seven tries with either the danforth or the fortress. Julie very discouraged and has a melt down. Even though we avoided major disaster with the engine yesterday, things with the boat have been building and this was the straw that broke the camels back. We went out to the “waiting room” a larger, deeper anchorage named as it’s location is where vessels, who are waiting to get into either the ellipse or the larger more protected port anchorage, wait for an opening; anchor in 54 feet of water. Launched the dinghy and visit with BEYOND REASON and JAZZ (48’ CHB Trawler) on our way into the Singlar harbor office. Julie better and gets on the Internet while I walk half-mile to the tienda, for ice and beer. Tienda is closed … naturally. Dinner aboard JAKE with BEYOND REASON.

Friday – June 27, 2008
Puerto Escondido – lay day. To tienda for beer and ice and RV campground/hotel for wi-fi. Walk the half-mile back to the dock (through road construction), transport ice and beer back to boat (via dingy, which by the way still has a leak), return to marina via JAKE (to give Sharon an IM injection for a nasty necrotizing skin infection she’s picked up) and up to the Singlar pool for a long, cool swim.
The sun in ubiquitous. One looks for shade and any other sort of cooling relief. Light is associated with heat and both are to be avoided; the cruisers look like insects beneath a rock and when lifted we all scatter for the closest shade. After an afternoon in the pool, we take a little dinghy tour of the inner harbor. Puerto Escondido is the best-protected harbor we’ve ever been in. It is surrounded on all sides by land, save the narrow entrance. As one come between the hill that forms the south end of the harbor and the mainland, the waiting room (a combination of anchorage and permanent moorings) is to the starboard. Traverse through the harbor entrance (about 50 feet wide and maximum of ten feet deep) into the ellipse on the port side, an anchorage that is about 20-50 feet deep but can only hold about 10 boats, and those are on a 3:1 scope. Continuing past the ellipse one enters the main bay; a huge protected area that again has permanent buoys and an anchorage. The waiting room is free, the ellipse is $6/night and the main bay is $20/night. Puerto Escondido, like so many Mexican projects is unfinished/abandoned. Singlar has several very nice, multi-storied buildings that are honeycombed with empty retail space, yet the tienda is half-mile up the road … go figure. The marina provides few services. The diesel pump tank sits empty because Pemex, the government owned oil company, is unsure who will pay them (bear in mind Singlar is a government agency as well). The”T” shaped dock is fairly small with room for about seven or eight boats and only one water line works. The water line is an old garden hose with about 8 leaks. Of course the hose is only long enough to reach the nearest edge of the dock. The marina charges $1.10 to use the head while the pool is free; they charge $2.75/day for wi-fi and $3.00 for the coin-operated washing machines. The dryer is another $3.00. They have haul-out facilities with a travel-lift and stands enough for a hundred boats that all go unused, because of lack of personal to operate them.
Away from the marina (to the north and somewhat behind it) are the remains of a failed development. Shells of concrete condominiums stand bare next to dredged canals with concrete peers; bridges that go over dirt to nowhere; concrete sidewalks flanking dirt avenues … all totally and completely unused. This is a beautifully protected marina, within the folds of the desert landscape, which at sunset gives a palate of shades from a deep violet across the color wheel to a burned orange; set against a jumble of abandoned construction projects, equipment that is rusting away for want of use and a spirit that seems paralyzed by indecision. Apparently, it’s been like this for 20 years. The uninformed that might stumble on these modern ruins would think at one time this was a thriving community that was suddenly and mysteriously abandoned. Right here is evidence as to why Mexico will never excel.

Saturday - June 28, 2008
0830 – Weigh anchor; clear skies and 4 knot breeze from the SW; one foot south swells. Into marina pier for water and a dip in the pool.
1105 – Depart Puerto Escondido for Honeymoon Cove.
1205 – Anchor in the middle lobe of Honeymoon Cove in 25 feet of water; a 60-foot catamaran is in the southern cove and a home built Piver trimaran is in the northern cove. Dinghy to shore and take a hike on the well-marked, stone lined trails; grand vista’s in any direction once atop the island; read, swim and nap all afternoon.
1545 – Weigh Anchor for Loreto.
1845 – Anchor off Loreto breakwater. Engine hours 303.9. Into town for dinner with JAKE. Ate at a small restaurant called 1679; significant because that is when Loreto was founded by a group of Italian and Spanish immigrants. The restaurant had air conditioning. Wandered through the town plaza, visited the cathedral built in 1740 and stopped by an ice cream shop. Again, Loreto is relatively clean and organized compared to the cities on the mainland side.

Sunday – June 29, 2008
0730 – Into Loreto farmers market; purchased apples, limes, mangos, peaches, pears, tomato’s, celery, lettuce, steak and fish.
0930 – Weigh anchor for Balandra Bay, due east of Loreto; clear skies and calm seas.
1230 – Anchor Balandra Bay with JAKE, BEYOND REASON, JAZZZ and a catamaran; engine hours 304. Cocktails aboard JAZZZ and snorkeling with JAKE and BEYOND REASON. The fish are not at all shy, really and the colors are dazzling whether they are a single color or multi-colored. We could kind of identify the sergeant fish – perch looking things with bright yellow and black strips; an angle fish (deep blue in color and about the size of your hand) and then a smaller blue fish with a blunt head. We saw other fish of course and scallops, but the above three made up 90 percent of what we saw. The fish were friendly enough and fairly inquisitive, not intimidated by us at all. Snorkeling among the reefs was like swimming in my Dad’s aquarium. Big winds in the night

Monday – June 30, 2008
0230 – Chubasco roaring through. Chubasco’s are micro-storm thunderstorms that brew on the mainland and then race across the sea. They are relatively small in size and can be seen on radar, but they are notorious for fierce winds, rain and lightening. Max wind speed on this one was about 33 knots. Danforth anchor held solid.
0815 – Weigh anchor for Loreto; blessedly, mildly overcast and cooler; picked up a little south wind and sailed for about 30 minutes; changed anchor to plow and plan to put fortress up front with plow and use the 22lb danforth for a stern anchor.
1015 – Anchor Loreto; bikes into the dinghy and into shore for medical treatment and fuel for JAKE. We make three trips to the Pemex and transport 30 gallons of diesel fuel on the back or our bikes. Jake got knocked off his bike by a guy in an F-150 who opened his door just as Jake rode by … no injuries though.
1400 – Weigh anchor for Isla Coronado (about six miles north of Loreto).
1715 – Drop Anchor in 17 feet of water right beneath the remains of a volcano; engine hours 309.5. JAZZZ and the cat came into the anchorage just after us, serendipitously. Everyone (including BEYOND REASON) came over to Loreto from Balandra and we all anchored outside Loreto within about an hour of each other. We’re all headed for Conception Bay and the Fourth of July doing’s up there.

Tuesday – July 1, 2008
1015 – Weigh anchor for La Ramada cove; another clear cloudless day; seas swells 5-7 feet from the ESE and wind six knots dead astern.
1400 – Anchor La Ramada Cove in nine feet of water; engine hours 317.5. Not much of an anchorage but large enough for the two of us and well protected from the south winds.

Wednesday – July 2, 2008
0700 – Weigh anchor for Bahia Santa Domingo (head of Conception Bay); overcast; calm with swells from the ESE @ 5-7 feet. Julie put out her fishing lines and we have something that looks like rusty squid biting but unable to snag the hook.
0900 – still overcast (blessedly); winds increased 15-20 knots, let out the jib, hoist the main, cut the engine and sail making about 7 knots. Later winds become variable and remain so throughout the day (motor sail) until just south of Pt Conception where the winds arise (15-20 knots) and we have a hot sail around the point and into our anchorage.
1540 – Anchor Bahia Santo Domingo in seven feet of water; engine hours 319.5. Quite a show off the mainland … the whole of the eastern horizon, 150- miles away on the mainland, arcs as with heat lightening; maybe some chubascos tonight.

Thursday – July 3, 2008
0800 – Weigh Anchor for Playa El Burro; skies clear, seas calm, no swell, 5-6 knot breeze from the SW; calm night. Bay is shallow with depths not exceeding 60 feet.
1100 – Anchor at the south end of Playa El Burro, in four-feet of water, beneath the lee of the rock; engine hours 322.5. Rig the canopies for cockpit shade; numerous boats - maybe twenty - here for the Fourth of July festivities, and more coming in. Too hot to hitchhike 17 miles into Mulege (the nearest towns of any size with any services); we wander back to Bertha’s (the single Palapa) in the area for a beer and some rest in the shade. Temperatures have been in the high nineties to low hundreds; if there is any kind of a breeze the heat is very tolerable. Stop by JAZZZ on the dinghy back and have more afternoon cocktails (painkillers).
1800 – Dinghy into Berthas for dinner with JAKE, JAZZZ and BEYOND REASON. The beach is littered with dinghies (like a field of automobiles at a farmers market) and the palapa is filled with cruisers, who all had the same idea.

Friday – July 4, 2008 (American Independence Day)
Playa El Burro – Lay Day – sunny and windy (10 knots SE, thankfully).
0700 - Hiked the mountain behind the cove with BEYOND REASON and JAZZ; saw some ancient petroglyphs.
1200 - Onto the beach at noon for the potluck. Gary, a gringo local that lives here on the beach year round, throws a fourth of July party for the cruisers; he provides hot dogs (Longmont, CO hot dogs) and the cruisers provide pot luck dishes; there was no lack of creativity in the pot luck dishes. The cove … beach … is crescent shaped with rock cliffs at either end that gives protection from the wind and waves. On the beach – waters edge at high tide – are 35 structures, ranging from two story houses to pole barns that run the entire stretch of the beach. What the structures all have in common are stout telephone pole size vertical beams buried in the sand and thatch roofs. Most are closed for the season, but there are a few vacationers here. Back to the boat for an afternoon nap and back to the beach for a small fireworks display. Ran the engine for an hour to charge batteries.

Saturday – July 5, 2008
Playa El Burro lay day – Hitchhiked into Mulege for a look-see and some minor provisioning. Check the Internet and back to the boat by 1300. Napped, swam and charged batteries for an hour.

Itchen Log, March 8 - June 4, 2008, PV to La Paz

2008-06-04T22:12:00.000-07:00

Saturday – March 8, 2008
0950 – Depart Mazatlan for Tenacatita via La Cruz (145 miles south); skies clear; weather report indicates winds and seas are supposed to be from the NW. It’s good to be underway again.
1600 – Motoring with a slight breeze on the nose; waves from the SW. Boat performing well and we need to get our sea legs back after so much time at the dock. Plan 3 hour watches.

Sunday – March 9, 2008
0230 – Julie wakes me from my off watch; she is concerned about our depth becoming suddenly shallow; I recheck the charts and we are in 180 feet of water about 10 miles off shore. I had certainly run into varying depths before and figured it was seaweed or a school of fish (JAKE thinks it might be a thermocline layer). None-the-less, I had a nagging sense in the base of my brain because Mexican charts are notoriously outdated. While it’s nostalgic to look at a chart and see neatly printed in the datum notes “from surveys collected by the U.S.S. Ranger 1890 to 1894,” the nostalgia quickly dissipates when you’re depending on the datum for navigational purposes; running aground is always a bummer. The oldest datum record we’ve used so far is 1854 – still, we’re using charts that are 150 years old overlaid with modern, pinpoint, GPS technology and the hydrographic surveys are only off by several miles … that’s impressive.
At the time, we were between Isla Isabela and the “Marias” (Isla Marie Madre, Isla Maria Magdalena and Isla Maria Cleofas). Isla Isabella (on the port side) is a bird sanctuary and many if not most cruisers crossing from Baja, or Mazatlan stop here. We’re not going to stop here because as unspoiled a delight Isla Isabella is, it’s dark, the anchorage is rocky and shallow and dangerous in south winds. On the starboard side are the three Marias. The Marias are named after Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, the wife of Cleopas. Maria Madre is a penal colony. The datum note states “Isla Marias are reported 3 miles farther East and Isla Isabela 1 3/4 miles farther SW than shown on the chart. The reported position cannot be reconciled with existing hydrography.” Local knowledge told us to give the Marias a wide berth, as the Mexican federalies do not suffer the curious cruiser. It seems contrary to name a penal colony after the mother of Jesus, but I supposed the island was named not knowing what future use it might have. As if to accentuate our position (whether in life or nautically),
Julie pointed out the southern cross constellation (the night sky was full of stars, but this constelation was so clear … so distinct). I had never seen it before, let it alone so clearly, but there it was, low on the horizon and tipped on its side with an aura behind it. There must’ve been some significance (certainly beyond my powers of comprehension) that the southern cross appeared in the sky at a time when we were passing close to a penal colony named Islas Maria Madre (and her sister islands Magdelena and Cleopas).
1430 – arrive La Cruz and anchor next to BEYOND REASON. Skies clear and wind out of the west. Anchorage is choppy, but the anchor bites and we dinghy over for early cocktails and dinner. Engine hours 79.9; motored 28 hours; used 3/8 tank of diesel (16.5 gallons) … burning 1/2 gallon/hour.

Monday – March 10, 2008
0815 – Clear skies, warm and bay winds out of the west. Up anchor and head east into the bay of Nuevo Vallarta for fuel. 1000 - arrive Paradise Village, Nuevo Vallarta, no fuel docks.
1045 - Enter Puerto Vallarta. Give supplies (instant coffee and coco) to LIBERTY, who is making the puddle jump tomorrow.
1200 – fuel up (19 gallons including 2.5 gallons for gerry can; 83 hours on engine (32 since Mazatlan). Head west out the bay past Yelapa, Cabo Corrianties (Cape of Currents) and then make our course south for Chamala and Tenacatita. No wind and calm seas.

Tuesday – March 11, 2008
0930 – Arrive Tenacatita. A bit of a tricky entrance in that it looks like you make a straight shot across the bay, but there are shallows and a shipwreck to foul the keel. Drop the hook and JAKE dinghies over to meet us. It’s been a while since we’ve seen them and they are tan and healthy looking. We launch our dinghy and put up Julie’s shade canopy. Julie down for a nap and I dive to inspect the boat. Fresh water shower in the cockpit. Dinner and Soprano’s with JAKE.

Wednesday – March 13, 2008
0930 – Anchored out at Tenacatita – Jungle tour with JAKE. It’s not the full jungle tour with snakes, crocodiles and Bogie, but it’s a lot like one. We all pile into JAKEs dinghy for our first challenge … that of crossing the bar. The river starts around the corner of the bay after crossing some very shallow entrance water (the bar). Jake times it just right and gives the engine just enough throttle (to keep us on top), as the waves picks up the dinghy and propels us just inches over the jagged rocks and into a calm, palm tree lined lagoon. Quickly the lagoon narrows as the river begins its torturous course; still wide at this point, the river has a narrow channel, which Jake navigates expertly. The shore is invisible hidden within the thick mangrove trees and still water. Effortlessly, we glide up the center of the channel, which is punctuated by snowy white egrets, perched precarioulsy on slim mangrove branches extended out over the water, patiently waiting for a fish to rise. The river narrows until it is barely wide enough for two dinghies abreast; the mangroves form a thick canopy that blocks out the sun with fat green leaves and long, thick roots that decend straight from overhead branches into the river beside us. Our speed is so slow we barely leave a ripple in the water; one side the shore is obliterated by the tangle of mangrove roots and swamp moss while the other shore rises to a dry knoll where four-foot tall ant hills dare the more cavilier to take a closer look. After about an hour of ghosting up this tributary to the unknown (and trying to scare each other with the old snake fell out of the tree routine) the jungle river opens into a small lagoon. We secure the dinghy and stroll up to the small village. We take a long beach walk, lunch at the Palapa (a resturant on the beach), buy a few supplies, dinghy back through the mangrove jungle, into the palm tree lined lagoon, across the surf and back to the boat for an afternoon nap. Dinner and Sopranos with JAKE and skippers meeting for the cruise to Bahia Navidad tomorrow.

Thursday – March 13, 2008
0815 – Up anchor from Tenacatita. Clear skies and no wind; somewhat of a marine layer (the first I think we’ve seen down here) and big rollers. Motor to Bahia Navidad (about three hours away). While Bahia Navidad is a fairly large the lagoon, (Laguna de La Navidad), where all the services are offered, it is a little trouble-some to enter. The entrance, indeed the lagoon is large enough, it just has a narrow channel that is poorly marked. The lagoon is frought with shoals and the breakwater is awash with a high tide. We follow JAKE in and arrive off the fuel dock about 1045; wait for about an hour while a big power boat refuels. We refuel; 80 liters (20 gallons = $57); engine hours 109 (average about .77 gallons/hour … fuel consumption up from PV).
1230 – drop anchor in seven feet of water (lots of other boats around). Go into town (Barra) for a beer and burrito and a little exploring. I take my computer in as it shut down on us in Mazatlan and the local cruiser guru there couldn’t fix it; Back to the boat and over to JAKE’s for dinner.
Bahia Navidad holding ground is mud and weeds and notorious for boats dragging their anchors when the afternoon winds come up. Dinghies are held at the ready and cruisers leave their keys in the vessels ignitions so when the errant boat does break free it can be started and re-anchored; in opposition to this passive intervention, dinghies are scrambled and decend on the drifting boat to secure it (much like the calvary coming to the rescue).
1800 - There is some traffic on the VHF about a boat breaking free. Jake and I are in the cockpit of his boat and it sounds like their talking about ITCHEN (anchored right behind JAKE). We watch closely but are unable to tell if the boat is drifting. Caution gets the better of us and we quick dinghy over to ITCHEN just as she really does break free (we were about three feet from a collision which would have damaged my wind-vane steering and scratched the hull of another boat). We motor out and circle around behind the fleet and drop the hook, but it doesn’t set; up anchor again and motor to another spot, drop the hook and again it doesn’t set; third time is a charm – hook, set, match … it’s over and ITCHEN is secured for the night.

Friday – March 14, 2008
Bahia Navidad – Wake to the lilt of the “French baker” on the VHF. Say what you will about the French but they have a beautiful language. The French baker is an honest to goodness French baker. He moved to Barra some years ago and was apparently shut out by the local community. He discovered the cruisers and started peddling his pastries to them, with a good deal of success. He gets up early to make his morning delights and then has a panga take him into the lagoon. Over his hand held VHF he starts marketing his wares. With a French accent “Hello … this is the French baker. I am entering the harbor now. One hears traffic on the VHF ordering a variety of sweets, rolls and breads; then; “Hello … this is the French baker. I’m leaving the harbor now and entering the lagoon. Who would like some croissants? JAKE … JAKE would you like a croissant? ITCHEN, I have fresh Danish … for you. The calls continue to go out … but all is wrapped up in about 20 minutes. It is a delightful and refreshing interchange heard on what is usually a very dry and somber network.
Into to town and secure the dinghy at the local cruiser friendly hotel; The Sands. They have a pool, bar, restaurant, wi-fi connection and welcome cruisers. Checked in and checked out with the local Port Captain. Took a bus ride to Melaque about 20 miles away. Melaque is a little bigger town than Barra and has an ATM, several butchers and multiple Mercado’s (kind of super convenience stores). Back to Barra, pick up the computer (completely fixed and running faster than ever for only $40.00!).

Saturday – March 15, 2008
0700 – Up anchor; clear skies and calm seas. Motor north to Bahia Careyes. We were looking to hook up with SAUCY LADY. Hail several times on 16 and 22 without response. Bahia Careyes looks inviting enough on a chart, but in actuality it has large breakers at the entrance with some hidden shoals and the anchorage is not protected at all. There is an old Club Med dock, but from out vantage point it wasn’t visible. Since SAUCY LADY wasn’t there we decided to bag it and continue heading north, until we found an anchorage we liked. Wind comes up on the beam so we raise our brand new shiny sails and easily do 7 knots (JAKE has to motor to keep up with us).
1400 – Bahia Chamala – drop anchor onto solid rock holding ground. Wait around to see if something miraculous will happen; have lunch, decide no miracles will happen at this anchorage and head to the north end of the bay.
1700 – Drop anchor in sand; good holding ground. Engine hours 118.6; estimate using 5.5 gallons = .6 gallons/hour. Change water tank = 44 gallons in seven days. Go for a swim and flood the porta-boat to see if it’ll float, then bail it out. Fresh water shower in the cockpit with the spray bottle (it works ok)

Sunday – March 16, 2008
0700 - Depart Chamala; skies clear, seas calm, no wind; waves NW at five feet.
1000 – Pass through hundreds and hundreds of sea turtles. The sea was absolutely calm and the turtles looked liked leather hats strewn all over the water. Julie stood on the bow, taking pictures, directing me from one turtle to the next. Some tolerated the boats approach; others dove in last minute panic and confusion. They all appeared to be napping, though I don’t know how as their heads were under water. Julie saw the famous albino turtle and urgently directed me to it. I motored up cautiously only to find that the albino turtle was a dead turtle, belly up and bleached white by the sun.
1230 – Raise the main and let out the jib; sail for 2 hours - 13 nm made good at 6.5 – 7 knots. Bypass Bahia Ipala due to strong NW winds forecast for next 12-24 hours.
1730 – Round Cabo Corrientas, Bahia Bandarras.
2130 – Drop the hook in La Cruz harbor. Engine hours 132.3 (used another 5.5 gallons = .38 gallons/hour). On approaching La Cruz there were several very bright lights in the harbor; I had no idea what they were (drilling rigs, dredging barges?). I radioed the La Cruz fleet for information on these and local conditions in the anchorage. The bright lights were three tuna boats, big tuna boats, that had come in for the night and turned all there bright, halogen, deck lights on (presumably to prevent thefts).

Monday – March 17, 2008
La Cruz Anchorage lay day – took bus into PV with JAKE. Did a little provisioning. Back to the boats; dinner and Soprano’s.

Tuesday – March 18, 2008
La Cruz Anchorage – Wind steady at 15 – 20 knots with gusts to 33 knots; many boats heading into the marina. MANDALAY (55’ Maple Leaf pilot house) next to JAKE starts to drag anchor. Jake is unable to clear him and the anchor rodes get tangled. As luck would have it MANDALAY’s anchor slid up JAKE’s chain where it was easily freed. MANDALAY had transmission problems and was unable to get any control of the boat. Once he was freed from JAKE, we watched him drift far into the bay, but not without snagging the anchor rode of a 45’ Hattaras and dragging him for a ways. JAKE in the meantime had to reset his anchor, which proved unsuccessful until he added a danforth in front of the CQR … it held firm and fast then!
1300 – Heard from SAUCY LADY via the vhf; they were in PV and had secured a slip for us in the marina. We discussed going into the marina with JAKE, as we were both headed there eventually; we needed water (at some point) and JAKE was leaving the boat at Marina Vallarta while they took a short trip to Seattle (we would boat/cat sit for them while they were gone). JAKE decided to stay in La Cruz for a few more days and we decided to take the slip; a) for water; 2) because SAUCY LADY had gone to considerable effort; and, c) we were eventually headed there anyway.
1530 – Arrive Marina Vallarta; SAUCY LADY (36’ Westerly) there to help us tie. We check in with the Port Captain via VHF. Good reunion with SAUCY LADY. Roy and Winona (masters of SAUCY LADY) have been cruising since 1999; I knew them from the yacht club in Tacoma. Beginning in ’99, they sailed down the coast and did the Baja, cruised Mexico, and Central America and then further south to Ecuador. From Ecuador they explored all over South America (by land) and sailed to the Galapagos (600 miles east). On this night they celebrated they 49th wedding anniversary and we got to go to dinner with them. Engine hours 135.

Wednesday – March 19, 2008
Marina Vallarta – Explore town with SAUCY LADY; took us to the Cathedral where a huge, famous sculpture/carving of the risen Christ was cut from a single piece of wood(Cedar); went to a Tequilaria … a micro distillery that make hundreds of kinds of tequila including a variety of liqueurs (coffee, orange, raspberry, chocolate, amaretto, etc). Tequila is made from the Guava plant and must be made in the district of Tequila, Mexico in order to be bear the name Tequila (much like champagne and the French), also 51% of the tequila must be from the Guava plant in order to be called Tequila, but the best Tequila is 100% Guava plant; and, we learned that tequila more that two or three years old is deteriorating because it’s losing it alcohol content. There are over 300 distilleries in Mexico, but only two export,as they are the only distilleries capable of making tequila in quantities large enough for export. We go to an older part of PV called Pitelle (pronounced PTL) and walk … try to walk … across the swinging rope bridges, visit the street vendors, walk along the malecon and have lunch. The buses are like those anywhere in Mexico (some new, some very personalized by their drivers and some very old). We’re finding that each Mexican city seems to have it’s own little cultural deviation. In Mazatlan it was the Pulmonia’s and in PV it is live entertainment on the buses. A man, or perhaps a man and his son, who may, or may not have a guitar as a accompaniment, get on the bus and start to sing, as a duo, a single or a capella, pianissimo, sometimes off-key but always, always with a great deal of enthusiasm. They entertain for a stop or two, pass the hat and then get off, presumably to wait for the next bus to roll up. We return to the boat to fix the stove (the oven wasn’t lighting off, so I sanded the thermocouple and cleaned the stove nipples); helped SAUCY LADY up the mast where Roy installed a Tri-color masthead light.

Thursday – Friday, March 20- April 4, 2008
Marina Vallarta, Puerto Vallarta – Lay Days, slip B-10. Every morning, just after zero-dark-thirty, the charter fishing fleet crews arrive. They wake the entire marina with their boisterous conversation and the deep rumble of diesel engines as ignitions unalterably start the day. Had breakfast, lunch and dinners; did some shopping and boat stuff with SAUCY LADY and JAKE and babysat JAKE and their cat Lupe; made weather curtains for the aft rails; rinsed the salt water off, cleaned and waxed the hull and standing rigging; set up the shade canopy successfully; played with a lifting system for the porta-boat; and, spliced the mainsheet. Went to several time-share presentations (the gifts for going was worth about $1500). Julie and I searched for the hotels we stayed at when we were here (in different lives, but at the same time) in 1986; Julie found hers, I did not.

Saturday – April 5, 2008
1010 – Clear skies, hot and no wind. JAKE has returned and they and SAUCY LADY cast us off. JAKE will anchor out in La Cruz and follow us to Mazatlan in a week or so and SAUCY LADY will put their boat on the hard and go back to Seattle for the summer. We’re headed for Denver to baby-sit Keelyn (our granddaughter) while her folks take a little vacation.
1800 – clear skies and calm seas. Motoring north for Mazatlan; started three hour watches at noon. No other boats to be seen.

Sunday – April 6, 2008
1630 – Arrive Mazatlan, Singlar Marina. Uneventful trip coming north; didn’t see any other vessels till just south of Mazatlan old harbor. Disgraceful docking … again; I’m not used to the new propeller. The old propeller (which was repitched to go with the new engine) would slow the boat measurably when put in reverse allowing for a very seamanlike docking procedure. This re-pitched propeller does nothing to slow the boat; indeed, sometimes I think it speeds the boat up. The first time I’d taken the boat out of the slip after having the propeller repitched was here in the Mazatlan marina basin. I entered the slip, with my usual authority, hit reverse expecting the boat to slow, which it didn’t, and with my 37- pound CQR anchor I smacked the water and electricity housing unit on the dock … breaking the water main. Julie is yelling at me, water is squirting everywhere and the head of Singlar is due at any moment for an inspection of the marina. I sheepishly scurried up to the office and informed them of my mishap. With knowing looks, but a professional visage they told me to run along and had it fixed within about 30 minutes.
I’m pretty sure it’s the propellers fault, … although the remote shifting mechanism for the transmission was switched around so it’s counter intuitive (pushing forward is reverse and pulling back is forward). I put indicators on the shift mechanism to remind me, but I suppose I could’ve put the boat into forward … that would explain it speeding up (but, that’s all in the past and does no good to dwell on it). This latest incident though, I was being exceedingly careful, because in addition to my past mishap, the wind had just piped up on the stern … it always does! I entered the slip slowly, with a port side tie (as the boat backs down to port); I wasn’t close enough for Julie to step onto the dock and by the time I had backed down enough for her to make that critical move, the bow of the boat had swung out and we were almost beam into the slip! Ordinarily, embarrassment would be the only consequence for that position, but just inches from the 37 pound, galvanized, indestructible, non-giving, roughly edged CQR anchor on the bow of my boat was the hull of a brand new Halberg-Rassy. Quickly, with only moments to spare we were able to secure ITCHEN’s bow back into her half of the slip, tie off her stern and secure her spring lines.
It’s one thing to be embarrassed in front of strangers (what do they know and who cares, right?) but on this particular day, sitting over at Marina Mazatlan, with a completely unobstructed view of our debacle was another boat (HOOLIGAN) whom we had known for years from our old yacht club in Tacoma. They were on their boat, sipping gin and tonics, watching the whole sorry, sordid affair. We later invited them to dinner, got them drunk and took compromising pictures to ensure their silence. Engine hours 165.4

Monday – Wednesday, April 7–9, 2008
Mazatlan lay days – Filled with fuel 38 gallons = .67 gal/hour at 2600 rpm; and water. Secured boat, dinghy and outboard; keys for car to Bob (for JAKE) and packed for Denver. HOOLIGIAN and Bob and Raph for dinner.

Thursday – Thursday, April 10-24, 2008
Fly to Denver for babysitting duties. See Molly, Bodhi and Keelyn; Bob and Carole; Dan and his family; and, Brigid flew out from San Diego. Shopping at thrift stores, book stores, marine stores. Went to a couple of movies (Nim’s Island and Treasure Hunt {or something}) and went up to the mountains. Toyed with the idea of getting some winter jobs at the ski slopes so we could ski all the slopes in Colorado. Talked with the taxman who screwed up our return. He claimed Tim as a dependent and when Tim went to file his return it was rejected. Taxman told me to pay Tim the difference (as re-filing would amount to about the same thing), which I did. Doing this aced Tim out of his stimulus package though, so the taxman re-filed our return; this involved us sending the taxman money for the overpayment of our return and to pay his bill. I’m getting really tired of paying to have work done and having it done poorly. Return to Mazatlan.

Friday – Friday, April 25 – May 2, 2008
Mazatlan lay day – Installed oil and water temp gauges for engine; installed 12 volt fans in v-berth; installed 12 volt plug for refrigerator; fixed fuel tank leak; cleaned and waxed boat; made larger table for cockpit (four can dine in the cockpit now); everyone over for dinner on different days. JAKE, BEYOND REASON and THE BOYS. Last minute underway preparations for Altata. Jamie cleaned the boat bottom and up to Bob’s for fiesta (Mexican Labor Day).

Saturday – May 3, 2008
0800 – Depart Mazatlan; skies clear and sunny; wind and waves from NNW (predicted from SW … go figure). Big swells at the harbor entrance; both of us a little seasick … me first then Julie; both recovered by mid afternoon.
1800 – sea calm, no wind, motoring north at 5-6 knots

Sunday – May 4, 2008
0630 – Approach entrance to Altata. Altata bay is a large, shallow, protected bay. The entrance has a long perfidious bar that extends perhaps half-a-mile into the sea and creates impressive surf that caps well away from shore! From outward appearances the entrance looks straight forward, but it is as treacherous as anything we’ve crossed since leaving the Pacific NW with the massive breakers, that given the opportunity, will quickly toss the boat out of the narrow, poorly marked channel and on to the bar where it will be driven into the sand, covered by only a few feet of sea and slowly dismembered joint by joist. The bar can only be crossed at high-slack tide and in calm weather; we planned our departure from Mazatlan to arrive here at just such a moment and had obtained the critical entrance waypoints from a fellow cruiser; sixteen waypoints, half of which cover just the entrance with the remaining waypoints plotting the twelve-mile run up the bay.
The dawn sea was calm; visibility was good as the sun skulked over our sterns horizon to expose, through a gray tinted marine layer, wave after gentle wave swell into towering breakers that inevitably capped on themselves climaxing with a violent flow of white spray and a thundering crash followed by the long, resonating death knell. JAKE was in the lead, as we watched his 45 foot, 25,000 pound swan enter the breakers flank, ride up the back of the wave and over the top, only to have it break on his stern causing the boat to disappear behind a wall of water as it staggered, rolled, pitched and finally lurched forward, remarkably still in the channel and on the back of another wave. Breaker after breaker the performance repeated itself, often with the depth meter reading zero feet, until we squirted into the safety of the inner bay out the surfs tenacious grasp, where we were greeted by a flotilla of panga’s and a pod of dolphins. JAKE glibly radioed back to relieve the pucker watch so that they may wipe themselves. Easily we moved up the remainder of the channel to our anchorage.
0830 – Drop anchor in 15 feet of water off La Perla palapa (beach restaurant) in Altata village. Engine hours 195; turn to battery bank one, rig the sun-shade, launch the dingy and tour the village after a mid-morning nap. Altata is a small, and with some reservation I say, resort village located at the head of Altata bay (you may be able to find it at googleearth.com 24.37.613 N – 107.55.693 W). Vacationers come from the nearby city of Culican, 30 miles east (which is purportedly the drug and murder capital of Mexico) on most Sundays. Gustave told us that Sunday is Altata’s big business day; the rest of the week is quiet. This “resort” community has nothing more than a waterfront loaded up with palapa’s; no beaches, hotels, bars, clubs or condo’s … just palapa’s and water. The dirt (not paved or cobblestone) roads are covered with fine grit that wafts into the air at the slightest disturbance and glazes everything. The village has the usual array of disjointed, partially painted concrete buildings, in which the concrete flakes off in huge slabs; (a fellow cruiser, who knew about these things, told us the concrete cracks and flakes because the Mexicans don’t wash the salt out of the sand prior to mixing in the cement). Altata’s uniquely cultural feature (remember Mazatlan and PV) is the location of the palapa’s … they’re not just beachfront, but in-the-water beachfront. At high-tide part of, if not the entire, restaurant is setting in the water. It doesn’t seem to bother the patrons any, as they just wade in and take a seat. These palapa’s are open-air affairs made of wood posts with a light roof or tarp over them, a small cook top stove using propane, soft drink dispenser, cash register, tables and chairs. They’re not portable and given the building codes, there would be nothing stopping one from saying they weren’t permanent. The other group of palapa’s (the concrete one’s) are just at high tide’s edge (when the tide is in, one can step from the dinghy into the palapa). Between the two is a road (?), which is used constantly, tide in or out, by delivery trucks, pickups full of the daily catch and passenger vehicles, all of which pass merrily across the sand through the salt water to places unknown. In our abbreviated village tour, we found a little Mercado in which to buy a few things and then made our way back to La Perla for lunch.
La Perla is a family run business that has catered to cruisers for many years. At one time the restaurant walls were covered with boat names, signatures, pictures and other memorabilia from passing cruisers but “Gustave” the proprietor told us the health department made him paint it over (yea, I don’t get it either … ahhh, I guess I do). He now keeps his cruisers memorabilia in a tattered, but much treasured, photograph album. The village seemed fairly quiet as we puttered around and La Perla was empty when we sat down, but by the time we left, La Perla, the beach and bay were jumping with vacationers. Imperceptibly, La Perla filled up with diners, and soon followed the parade of vendors with craftwork of hats, belts, bracelets, scarves and hammocks; girls selling slices of flan and coconut cookies (why is it barnacles don’t grow on coconuts) and musical entertainers. Usually the entertainers are a small instrumental band that serenades the table (this is throughout Mexico), but in Altata our live entertainment came in the form of a middle-aged matron, carrying an old boom box with a tape player. Stone cold sober, and I kid you not, she barreled into La Perla, set the boom box down on the table, started the scratchy tape (of children’s songs!) and sang along with the tape … out of key … doing a modified hula. She carefully watched for an errant gaze she could seize, but all eyes modestly refrained and converstations suddenly reached a zenith of intensity. Undeterred, she lumbered through the tables looking for rewards commensurate with her talents; it was a tough crowd, but that’s show business … bless her heart. We exited La Perla to find all the palapa’s were full, the beach road was crowded with foot traffic, cars were parked every which and the water was alive with swimmers, jet ski’s and panga’s pulling banana boats and inner tubes.

Monday – Thursday, May 5-8, 2008
Altata, at anchor – Check in and out with the Port Captain; I don’t think they really care or really know what to do, but sure enough if we don’t, we’ll incur a heavy fine. Sunny and warm all week; windy in the afternoon and early evening; gusts up to 22 knots but anchor holding firm. Power on bank one lasted till Wednesday and I was still able to start the engine on that bank (ran the engine for an hour to recharge battery band). Took daily swims and trips into village for exercise or some small provision. Discovered an Internet café. It was a run down building with no windows, or any indication at all that it was a communications Mecca. It was next to a tienda (little grocery store) we were browsing in, and a young man (the proprietor) came out of the Internet café and sat on the stoop. He has ten computers, a wi-fi connection, air-conditioning and charged 2 centavos a minute for the Internet. The first time we were in there, a couple of schoolgirls were in doing homework (all the school kids wear uniforms in Mexico) and I noticed she pulled a cell phone out of her skirt pocket to answer a call. My mind still rolls over the incongruity between the austerity of the village and the presence of high tech gadgets like computers and cell phones … mmmmm The village is absolutely deserted; no kids in school, no traffic and, no tourists. Panga’s make morning and afternoon runs going out the fishing grounds and returning. Visited La Perla a couple more times (in appreciation for Gustave swimming out to the boats to notify us of recent dinghy thefts and to advise us to raise our dinghies at night), and finished the last episode of the Soprano’s (what a let down). Phosphorescence on the dinghy ride home one evening. You remember my telling you about the phosphorescence in the sea while crewing on COK CABUK, the same thing happened again in Altata. I’m sure there is an explanation for it, as it happens intermittently, but the water was really lit-up. The outboard prop-wash, the dinghies bow wake and the fish. The brightness was equal to an L.E.D. bulb. Once back aboard ITCHEN, I stood in the cockpit and watched the little tiny dots of light in the water, like the stars in the night sky; I could see the movements of the fish through their vapor like, phosphorescent trail. One huge fish, probably a dolphin, left a phosphorescent trail so large it lit up the whole aft quarter of port side. What a way to get ready for bed.

Friday – May 9, 2008
0830 – Weigh anchor for the long trip down the bay; clear day, calm seas and light winds out of the NW. Only a few pangas pass us on our way down the bay; no shore activity. Spot a pod of three dolphins on JAKE’s stern and a few minutes later our boat unexpectedly yaws and rolls; Julie spins around looking for the cause, but I think it’s the dolphins having a little fun with us. Sure enough, all three surface, in unison, about 25 feet off the aft port quarter of the boat. According to the plotter we are directly over the course we followed entering the bay (plotters are just magnificent as long as the electricity holds out).
1030 – Exit Altata bay at high tide, amid 37 pangas; navigate the breakers (a more docile group) and set our course just a touch south of west, across the Sea of Cortez, for La Paz.
1900 – Half across the sea, longitude 109.00.00 W; flat calm and no wind. Small land bird joins us (from who know where) huffing and puffing; barely able to snag the topping lift for a perch. After a few minutes, he gets himself oriented and hops up to one of the mast steps, tucks himself in against the mast and settles in for a long rest. I will let him stay, as long as he doesn’t foul the nest. JAKE is not so fortunate. About the same time he has a booby land on his spreader. Shortly after his arrival the bird begins to poop all over the boat, at one point nailing Sharon square on the noggin (Jake had failed to report off that they had an uninvited guest). Jake tries a number of things (bright lights, rattling the halyard and/or blowing the airhorn) to frighten the booby away, to no good end. In the morning, the boat and sails are a mess.

Saturday – May 10, 2008
0600 – Dawn; calm seas and clear skies. Motoring at 1800 rpm as JAKE is conserving fuel.
1200 – Arrive La Paz; secure to mooring buoy in Virtual Marina off Vista Coral Hotel, right in the middle of the city’s waterfront. Buoy is $7.50/night and includes use a secure dinghy dock, showers, head, trash and cruisers lounge. Engine hours 223; fuel tank 3/8 full. In to town for exploration and up to CCC (grocery store). La Paz is by far and away the cleanest and neatest Mexican city we’ve been in.

Sunday – May 11, 2008
La Paz – moored out in virtual marina; winds are up but not much fetch. Mothers Day so called both mothers. Took bike for a long ride along the malecon and did a little exploration before Julies back tire went flat. Ice Cream in the town plaza and dinner and movie on JAKE. Movie was “There Will Be Blood” … worst movie we’ve ever seen, unanimous decision!

Monday – May 12, 2008
La Paz – virtual marina; Checked in with Vista Coral Hotel (buoy owners) and Port Captain via Marina La Paz. 45 minute net this morning and included movie reviews. Julies bike to shop for tire repair; $4, no waiting. Over to Waldo’s (Mexican version of a dollar store).

Tuesday – May 13, 2008
La Paz – Switched water tanks (10 days using only 44 gallons of water); cleaned boat; emptied head and made lifting line for dinghy (porta boat); set up generator and shade canopy. Not at all pleased with either one. I have to stow the Honda 1000 watt portable generator and the gasoline it uses; it only puts out 8 amps; I run the generator for hours with little or no effect, yet I can pretty well charge up a bank of batteries from the engine in about an hour. I’m not sure if the juice is worth the squeeze. The generator does seem to work better if I go directly through the battery charger as opposed to going through the shore power plug.
I experimented with setting up the shade canopy differently (for an easier, faster way of assembly and especially disassembly) and wound up setting it up just the way Julie designed it. Once set up, it provides a magnificent amount of shade, flow through ventilation and ease of movement. The wind has been gusting at 20 knots and it stays in place without incident. The problems are multiple; the topping lift causes a split in the canopy that complicates the assembly/disassembly procedure. The bungee tent poles, that need to be assembled and fed through a corresponding casing on the canopy, are unwieldy; when assembled, they are well over 12 feet long (this is required to give the necessary height and shape to the canopy); and the canopy itself. The canopy is 9 x 9 feet of 4.5 ounce Dacron, which is not easily managed on a boat that is only 11’9” at its beam, and littered with spars, wires and line. The options are; to outfit the boat with a boom vang or boom crutch and eliminate the topping lift; modify the shape of the canopy so it extends aft only as far as the topping lift; change the design of the canopy using shorter poles and the main halyard (with four attachment points) as the support mechanism; leave it the way it is; or bag the idea of a shade canopy in the Sea of Cortez, altogether.
Went to the movie “Ironman” ($4 for the movie and $2 for popcorn).

Wednesday – May 14, 2008
La Paz – trouble with the propane stove again. Jake suggested the regulator. Went to Lopez Marine and purchased a new regulator ($99) but when I got back to the boat it didn’t look like it was going to fit. I opened the old regulator; eight screws, a spring and rubber gasket. Cleaned everything off, checked for holes and blew on the vent; reassembled it and viola! the stove works like a champ. Returned the newly purchased regulator. Bought a dinghy anchor, and “slime” for the bike tires. Lunch at Applebee’s and out to dinner with JAKE and ZEPHYER (44’ Morgan Out Islander). Ice Cream on the Malecon from a little place that makes their own cones; certainly not unique, but the little cups and banana boats they make out of the same dough is.

Thursday – May 15, 2008
La Paz Buoy – Installed another 12-volt plug and fan for salon. Julie into town to explore the open-air markets (very disappointed with them – not up to Mazatlan standards). Using more battery power now with computer, so after about the third day I need to start running the engine an hour a day to top the batteries off. Received amended tax return (via email); signed and emailed back. Trouble paying for AVG virus program for computer; AVG won’t accept credit cards or pay-pal as I’m living out of the country and the credit card is registered to our home address in Washington; it’s a German outfit that is doing the billing for AVG (Nazi bastards).

Friday – Sunday, May 16-18, 2008
La Paz – bike around town; daily afternoon swim against a surprisingly strong current with a fresh water shower afterwards; pot luck at Singlar Marina La Paz (looks just like the Singlar in Mazatlan). Porta boat is kind of slow; it does what it’s supposed to and is very responsive and stable; the little 3.5 HP will get me alone up on a plane and it’s a breeze to lift onto the ITCHEN’s bow at night, but it is slow and not quite as seaworthy as I hoped. I’ve heard a few inflatables advertised on the net. View tube on urinal leaking

Monday – Tuesday, May 19-20, 2008
La Paz – Into Marina La Paz for fuel and water; 31 gallons of fuel ($87); engine hours 232.7; burned 0.46 gallons/hour (optimally, that would give me a cruising range of over 500 miles). Gave boat a fresh water wash down while refueling. Had trouble recapturing the buoy on the return to the mooring; marina staff came out to help … mildly embarrassing.
On the net this morning, BORREAS (36’ Pearson) will trade hard bottom dingy and 9.9 hp engine for coconuts (illegal to buy or sell in Mexico); another cruiser stepped on me and got the boat. Spoke with BORREAS anyway (turns out he, and his wife, were at NOAA when I was and he recognized me … that may not be a good thing). BORREAS still had the 9.9 engine and a friend with a hard bottom dinghy. Made a deal for 11’ inflatable, hard bottom dinghy and engine. JAKE went with me to check out dinghy and on the way home we stopped at a corner store (open on both sides) for some water. The bikes were not out of our view for more than 60 seconds and my bike was stolen; it was on the inside of JAKE’s and not nearly as convenient to take. It was the only time I hadn’t locked it.

Wednesday – Thursday, May 21-22, 2008
La Paz- Windy days and nights are the order of things. The boats at anchor, or on a buoy, do what is sarcastically called the La Paz Waltz. Usually in an anchorage all the boats will be lieing the same way gently pulling on their rode’s; bows all pointed neatly in one direction like a very expensive and elaborate wind vane. One knows the La Paz Waltz is in full swing when all the boats in the harbor are swinging at different angles, twisted and strewn about like a box of toothpicks on the supermarket floor. The waltz is caused by a strong tidal current of about three to four knots (ebb or flood, take your pick) and a substantial wind that seems to always blow against the current; the morning sea breeze coming from the east, or the afternoon cormels; a hot land breeze that comes up from the west. The boats will be pushed bow first over the tops of their anchors/buoys, driving down on them; think about this … the vessel isn’t pulling on its rode, it’s pushing it! It’s disconcerting and irritating … niggling! The boat springs back and then bob’s around until it’s in another cockeyed position … it’s such an un-seaworthy act by the wind and the water all to embarrass the boat … I don’t even want to write about it.
Dinghy being repaired; bottom being re-glued (all part of the deal) and BORREAS brought by the 9.9 Tohatsu outboard that I’ll trade for my 3.5 hp. After ten attempts, the Nazi’s will still not accept payment for the computer anti-virus program. Dinner with JAKE and TENACITY (43’ Pearson).

Friday – May 23, 2008
La Paz Virtual Marina – up to Club Crucero (the local cruisers home made club house) for wi-fi to resolve AVG payment problem and get airline tickets to see kids (before they deploy again), Chuck and Shirley in Seattle and COK CABUK in Oregon. AVG finally accepted payment from credit card, which is what I tried in the first place (had to bypass the Nazi’s completely). Julie to grocery store and I to bank for funds. Dinghy repairs not completed, maybe tomorrow. Small plane flew overhead doing some voice marketing … talk about noise pollution; usually it’s a recording blaring through a megaphone mounted on the roof of a pickup, but the Mexicans have elevated verbal marketing to flight status. Oh my …

Saturday – May 24, 2008
La Paz– JAKE departed for an anchorage outside La Paz; we’ll catch up later. Dinghy delivered (hopefully not leaking) and we swapped engines (it’s nice to have ample power getting from a to b). I’ve got a line on a whisker pole and a couple of folding bikes. Dinner alone and dinghy into town for a walk on the malecon and ice cream. Watched some Mexican dancers; the music and dancing are remarkably like the polka.

Sunday – May 25, 2008
Julie punched a hole through the cooling jacket of our Engle refrigerator chipping ice for gin and tonics. She was distraught and there was a great wailing and gnashing of teeth heard throughout the province. Bought a smaller, lighter whisker pole (fit’s very nicely on the boat).

Monday, May 26, 2008
Refer to Hector (the local refrigeration repair guy), who came down to marina to pick it up it. Borrowed cooler from YELLOW STAR (35’ Trimaran). Mounted new larger outboard bracket on stern rail; made new lifting dinghy straps for inflatable and repaired leaking urinal.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Refer repaired and delivered to marina first thing. Get 2 stroke oil and extra gas for dinghy. Returned cooler to YELLOW STAR (with a thank you note and brownies). Warned not to leave boat unattended in Puerto Escondido due to thefts, vandalism and $20/night moorage (no marina), Settled up with Vista Coral, showered and prepared to weigh anchor. Moorage for 16 days $120; Fuel $87; new dinghy and engine $500; anchor for dinghy $22; whisker pole $300; refrigerator repair $150; stolen bike $150; Anti-virus for computer $52; the cruising life … priceless!
1530 – Weigh anchor La Paz; winds out of the south at 10-15 knots, skies clear; dinghy in tow. On our way north we encounter a triple story mega yacht heading south. A helicopter approaches the yacht, circles around the yacht (like a big bug) and very gingerly lands on the yachts mid-deck, right behind the pilothouse. We’ve seen this vessel numerous times before in Cabo and PV, but always with the helicopter attached. There is only room for the cockpit of the helicopter to sit on the yachts deck, as the entire tail structure extends off the aft end of the vessel, much like a bird balancing on a wire. The yachts landing pad clearance is so small and positioned in such a way that a gust of wind or rogue wave, I would think, could easily turn the helicopter into the worlds most expensive circular saw taking the third deck off like a hot knife through butter. The pilot who landed the helicopter on the yacht has some really big marbles … big and heavy and made of really shinny brass. We watched the yacht disappear down the channel against the backdrop of the setting sun on a glistening sea framed within a forbidding desert coastline; a jagged coastline, jutting up from the sea like shards of broken pottery; dried and burnt from eons spent in a solar oven baking away any veneer and leaving only the massive geological scars of the planets turbulent past.
1945 – drop anchor in 16 feet of water Caleta bay, Isla Partida; engine hours 251.3; rendezvous with JAKE. Two catamarans, four mono-hulls and two large powerboats share protected anchorage. Dinner with JAKE and marvel at the phosphorescence on the dinghy ride home.

Wednesday – May 28, 2008
a.m - Caleta Bay, Isla Partida , Sea of Cortez- Plan hike today to the islands fresh water lagoon. Dinghy out of our cove, cautiously at first, but the waves are small so we throttle up; the dinghy jumps up on a plane and skims across the deep blue-green sea, around the point, up the neighboring cove into the opaque, lime colored, shallow water of El Cardoncito Bay. HEAVENLY STAR (Gemini 30) is only boat anchored in cove. Monty (the master) is ashore fixing his dinghy and helps us land ours. As Julie steps out (to pull me ashore), she almost steps on three baby stingrays; she immediately remembers her lessons from Turtle Bay regarding the stingray shuffle to avoid getting stung. Safely ashore, with joy to Monte, we begin our hike to the top of the island via the dried out riverbed that sets in one of the islands ravines. On our way up, a little black lizard joins us and periodically darts in front of us, as if to serve as our trail guide; he was with us the whole way up (Julie thinks it was several different lizards). Geologically, it’s puzzling why the island has a river bed; it’s not large, nor high, is nothing but rock and doesn’t have any kind of natural water shed; so why the riverbed? The riverbed/path is loaded with massive boulders and it’s easy to see where they’ve calved off the cliffs above. It has many dried up pools and waterfalls and many of the rocks have hollows worn in them caused by rushing water, but from how long ago, we can’t imagine. The rocks beneath our feet are often hollow and have a tympanic resonance when tapped; indeed the cliff sides are pocked with holes and irregular hollows. The area, indeed this very island and our anchorage, is volcanic in origin. No signs of life on the island except for wasps at a fresh water well, our lizard buddy and one black jackrabbit; how do you suppose he got on the island? We return to boat for lunch, a swim, gin and tonics and a nap.
13 boats in the anchorage by days end. Nighttime reveals the sea is phosphoresceing so much that the pelicans are night fishing. The anchorage is dark with the exception of anchor lights and the phosphorescence; just beyond the field of night vision, one hears a great thundering splashing clamor. Using a powerful spotlight we wait for the noise and then illuminate the area just in time to see a pelican withdraw his beak from the water and swallow (pelicans are so elegant in flight and conservative in appearance, why then such clumsy fisherman). Sleep envelops us as the splashing fades into the distance.

Thursday – May 29, 2008
0910 – Weigh anchor Carlita Bay, Isla Partida; sunny skies, no wind and calm seas.
1010 – Cruise around seal rock at north end of island and watch the seals and sea lions play and bark on the rocks. Many tourists and cruisers come out here to swim with the seals; they say to not extend your hands as the seals think it’s food and you may get a nip. There are five buoys on either side of the rocks for boats to moor on. We hovered for a little, watching, and then made our way around the north end of the rocks. On the other side were more seals; much more friendly though as they came swimming out to see us, swam around the boat a bit, barking and splashing and when they saw we weren’t coming in, they swam back to their warm rocks.
1410 – Anchor at Isla San Francisco in 15 feet of water with sandy bottom; engine hours 256.5. Dinghy leaking water where aft port sponson and sole meet; also leaking air from starboard sponson. Borrow JAKE’s pump and discover air leak is coming from inflation port and is intermittent. Panga with three fisherman motored up to JAKE looking for drinking water. JAKE gave them a gallon and Julie contacted them for fish. They came over to ITCHEN and removed a rug that was covering a 55-gallon plastic drum laid on its side. The drum had part of the side (now top) cut and it was filled with seawater and fish (the fish were quite alive). We swapped two cans of beer for a couple of good size species of white fish. Dinghied to beach for a short walk. On the southwest end of the point we found a little monument that cruisers are building; it’s a pile of coral, about three feet high. Those that take the time to walk out to the point add there own little piece of coral, rock or whatever is laying around, to the pile; we each added a little piece of coral we’d picked up on the beach. Back to the boat and I went for a swim; the wind had come up so I thought I’d check the anchor but couldn’t see it; checked my position relative to JAKE and discovered we were dragging (I’m really losing faith in this CQR). Weighed anchor and headed for the north end of the bay; dropped the anchor and it seems to be holding … for now. Harbor filling with boats; ten already. Changed the propane tank.

Friday – May 30, 2008
Isla San Francisco lay day – Early morning swim and Jake over for breakfast. Dinghied to shore and walked around island; to the top of the island; and, across the island to the opposite side. Back to boat and cleaned bottom and napped. Dinner and West Wing with JAKE.

Saturday – May 31, 2008
0730- Up for an early morning swim and fresh water shower
0830 – Weigh anchor
0915 – Pass Isla Coyote, which is a very small (maybe and acre or two) rock … reef … island that is inhabited. The island rises about 40 feet out of the water which is inhabited by a small community of fisherman and their families; their houses can clearly be seen from the water. We’ve heard the island has been inhabited for hundreds of years. Cruisers are welcomed and often purchase fish and/or craftwork made by the locals.
1000 – Bahia Amortajada, Isla San Jose- Drop anchor (at least try to) in 5 feet of water. Unable to get the plow/CQR anchor to set; back around the anchorage like an idiot but finally it sets. I dive on it just to make sure and see the anchor is on its side, buried in the sand. Launch the dinghies and head for the mangrove lagoon, which is why we came here. It’s perplexing to sail into the harbor of a desert island and see cactus and mangroves growing right next to each other. The lagoon is a mangrove lined, continuous channel that cut across a spit at the tip of island; the tip helps form the bay. The channel is guarded by a shallow bar and is not as ominous as Tenacatita; it is much wider, has numerous shoals and no dramatic canopy that hides the honest daylight. Still, it does have a couple of diversionary canals that beckon only the bravest mariners and it’s wide enough that, were two dinghies inclined, they could drag race through it. The water is clear, and the fish are bountiful; small, large, stripped, flat, long and narrow are all represented. We pick our way through the shallows, and then fairly zip along the wide canal as it gently meanders through the mangroves, ignoring the smaller canals (for now), ultimately opening onto a large lagoon, like a lake within a sea. We run the length of the lagoon at full throttle and then decide to head back for the really serious (and dangerous) work of investigating those canals. The first canal JAKE cautiously enters and disappears behind the thick vegetation as the murky water swallows his wake. I frantically lift my outboard to avoid hitting the bottom, but before I can get permanently adjusted, he returns reporting that the canal dead ends in a glut of mangrove roots and water … bummer. Adjusted now, I take the lead on the next canal. This one is longer and takes some intriguing bends; narrower and narrower the canal becomes as the mangroves close in over us. There, on the port side we see the telltale flotsam pinned by the weak and ambivalent current against the mangrove thicket; it’s large … larger than the dinghies and multicolored; brown, black and irregularly shaped. Warily we advance, flanking the object on either side. There is no response, no movement to be seen; carefully we watch for the slightest flicker, imperceptible noise or disturbance in the fetid atmosphere, but alas none is forthcoming. It’s clear to us now that a death has occurred; little evidence of foul play exists and besides any there was has long been washed away; nothing remains save some skin and appendages; more likely the death was accidental. This object, a juvenile whale we suspect, has been dead for a great long time and it appears this quiet corner of the mangrove lagoon will become his burial plot.
Back out across the bar and discover the boat has dragged anchor, again!
1130 – haul the anchor up dangling in the water and get underway; crossing the channel I change the plow for the original danforth. I prefer danforths anyway and I’ve never not had one set.
1400 – Anchor in San Evaristo harbor in 6.5 feet of water; anchor sets immediately. San Evaristo is little village 75 miles north of La Paz. Despite its size it has a school, a small tienda and a desalination plant. We dinghy into town to investigate the tienda. It’s a local home … quasi farm, in which we walk through roosters, chickens, lambs, dogs and a pickup truck to get to the front door. It’s quite well stocked with fresh vegetables and canned goods. Meat and dairy products are kept outside in the refrigerator … gutted, tipped on its back and filled with ice. Most all of the structures have solar panels, which charge batteries that are used for electricity (we saw no power lines coming into the village and heard a generator running the desalination plant). Went for an afternoon swim and dove on the anchor; it’s buried in the sand.
2230 – JAKE notifies all cruisers (via VHF) he just busted some locals trying to steal his dinghy. Dinghy and/or outboard engine theft is a problem for cruisers and as a result we lock the engines bolts when attached to the dinghy, making them an inseparable unit. At anchor, at night, we hoist the dinghy out of the water with a halyard and leave it suspended on the side of the boat; this pretty much thwarts any would be thieves. What these idiots thought they would achieve is anybodies guess. JAKE only faintly heard some tinkling outside. Peeking out to investigate, he caught the three of them red-handed. They feigned some excuse about needing tequila, slunk back into their panga and speed away into the darkness.

Sunday – June 1, 2008
San Evaristo anchorage – Hazy day and cool … cooler. Dinghy into village while WIND TOY watches our dinghies. Walk over the hill to the sand pits. Desalination plant makes water for the village. The homes in the village store their water either; by filling a 100 gallon plastic barrel, or running irrigation conduit to a hole that’s been dug in the ground. Back at the boat, I put on a snorkel mask, plunge into the water and make like “Mike Nelson in Sea Hunt” (great mariner that I am). Flipping over to investigate the depths below me (the water is dangerously calm and a full fathom in depth) I immediately spot a sting ray, about the size of a large pizza pan, gliding just above the sandy bottom, right below me! Luckily, I’m in the water so cleaning my Speedos doesn’t present any difficulty or embarrassment (this kind of forethought and preparation comes with years of experience). Composed (and clean) I return to my snorkeling (up current) and become aware I’m being observed; just beneath the keel, carefully peeking up is a shy little puffer fish. They’re nifty to watch as they motor about; up, down, backwards and forwards like really underpowered, mini-helicopters. She sees she’s been discovered, spins and rotates her ventral fins furiously gaining just enough weigh for steerage, and motors away at a terrifyingly slow rate. Snorkeling in a ten foot perimeter around the boat, I’m satisfied the anchorage is in good order, and making a note to myself to paint the anchor white so I can see it, I emerge from another great adventure and relive my exploits in the vast empty chambers of my mind while sucking on a cold beer. Julie is napping and it would be dangerous to wake her so she may bestow on me the full admiration I deserve.

Monday – June 2, 2008
0900 – Weigh anchor for Ensenada el Cardonal bay, Isla Partida. Goodbye’s to JAKE and we have their shopping list. There is a commotion in the otherwise still water a little port of our course; we can just make out a frenzy of diving birds and their great splashes. As we get closer, we see a multitude of dorsal fins … fifty a hundred fins, on the outer edges of the melee. Dolphins (we think feeding); periodically launching themselves out of the water in fits of exuberance. Alerted to our presence, pod after pod of six to eight dolphins peel off the main body and in a tumbling, joyful heap race over to the boat. We keep our course, but ease back on the throttle in so as not to be inhospitable to our new friends. They streak around the boat, under it and jump out of the water beside it, joyfully attacking us from all sides. Standing on the deck, peering down into the clear blue-green sea, we watch as they sweep under the bow, just leading the boat and then in a very human gesture, turn sideways, soft milky eyes gazing up, entreating us, to come play. I was an RCH away from joining them. When we return I must swim with the seals and the dolphins and become one with the sea.
1500 – Ensenada el Cardonal bay, Isla Partida; drop the hook (the strong, dependable, accommodating danforth anchor) in 6.5 feet of water, well off shore; it sets immediately; backing down at 2200 rpm doesn’t budge it; engine hours 266.5. Go for a swim and dive on the anchor. Dinghy to shore, a good distance away. As we approach shore, gases emitted from the decomposing matter in the shallow lagoon foul the air; the breeze is steady and we’re soon past it. Upon landing, we take a short hike across the island, beside the lagoon the entire way, startled when the ground before us begins to ripple with thousands of fiddler crabs (tiny little freaks whose right claw is much larger - sometimes the size of their body – than the normal sized left claw), panic stricken, tumble headlong over each other for the relative safety of the water.
It’s quite peaceful, anchored by ourselves in this vast bay. Sitting in the cockpit, we watch the sun peacefully disappear behind the peninsula. The westerly breeze is light, but steady causing a small chop on the waters surface and holding the boat snug on the anchor. Using the binoculars, we carefully study the cliffs surrounding the bay for movement that would betray signs of life … none is beheld. The atmosphere is tranquil save the periodic splash, pause and then the rhythmatic flapping of wings the pelicans create, in search of their evening meal.

Tuesday – June 3, 2008
0710 – Weigh anchor, clear skies, calm seas and no wind. Uneventful passage to La Paz
1205- Arrive Marina La Paz, slip 314; engine hours 271.5. Radioed the marina on approach and they had line handlers waiting to catch us. No mishaps, the boat glided smoothly into the berth. Secured the boat; registered with the marina; contacted Hector the refrigerator repairman about the refer only freezing on one side, and Milton about the dingy repair; put up the sun shades; changed the bow anchor to the CQR and the put the danforth back on the stern; rinsed the salt and dirt off the boat and rinsed out the anchor locker with fresh water; filled the port water tank and went up to the restaurant to celebrate ZEPHYR’s birthday. Julie searched the Internet of car rentals, so that we may go north. Showered and discover hundreds of bite marks my shoulders, arms and back. Must’ve been attacked, while sleeping, by “no see-ums” in Ensenada el Cardonal (dirty little buggers).

Wednesday – June 4, 2008
Final preparations for trip north. Write Chuck, Gary and Brigid; get the refer back from the shop, fill up with propane; laundry; get rental car, load up porta-boat, take down the sun shade, haul the dinghy, secure the outboard and button up ITCHEN.