Why I Do This.

This morning I awoke at 7am. As I looked out the hatch above the bed the boat swung just enough for me to watch as the sun painting the sky pink. After falling asleep last night with the full moon shining through that same hatch I realize how lucky I am to have this life.

We have quite a few guests visiting this year but they are spaced out so we have some alone time in between. As "newlyweds" we really enjoy just hanging out together but we also love sharing this special lifestyle and wonderful country with others.

Everywhere we go I find myself telling people, "This is one of my very favorite places." They all seem to be favorites for different reasons. From the anchorages where we are all alone with the beauty of land, water and sky to the busy marinas in La Cruz and Mazatlan where we touch base with civilization again, to the favorite anchorages where our cruising family gathers for fun, to the passages where we seem to be the only people on earth.

No matter where we are, we love the amazing sunsets and sunrises that seem to be painted just for us.

It truly is a gift to live life one day at a time.

Ground Tackle

Well…just when I thought all was well in the world of ground tackle (that would be anchors, chain, windlasses, etc) my confidence has been shattered.

A couple weeks ago while we were anchored in Tenacatita Bay with our guests, Phil and Anna, a very ugly storm front went through. The sustained wind was 35-45 knots with gusts as high as 70. There was quite a bit of swell coming in as well so we were bouncing around pretty good all night long. About 25 boats were anchored there during the storm and only one dragged anchor…and, thank goodness, it wasn’t us…so I was feeling pretty cocky. At the moment, we have a 45# Delta anchor with about 250’ of 5/16” chain and another 50’ or so of rope rode. In addition, this year “we” (Chris) installed a brand new, extra heavy duty, Lighthouse windlass that is an exceptional piece of equipment. As he is wont to say, “it is slow but it will lift an elephant”!

At any rate, after this very difficult night I was busy extolling the virtues of our Delta anchor and its exceptional holding power. It had rarely dragged (only twice before and there were extenuating circumstances both times) and this was the test d’resistance.

A few days after the big storm in Tenacatita, the weather guy predicted another front heading our way so we decided to high tail it back to Barra De Navidad where we would, theoretically, have a bit more protection. Barra has its own challenges when it comes to anchoring. Since the bottom is very slippery, silty mud it is not uncommon for boats to slip when the wind comes up but because it is a known quantity and not so open to the ocean we thought we’d be better off there. Besides, we hadn't dragged there before. Lots of other folks had the same idea so we had plenty of company.

When we arrived in Barra we decided to anchor close to the island instead of in the middle where we usually went. This was because several friends prefer that side - they say it is deeper. Well…since the average depth in the lagoon is 10’ at high tide, a couple more feet is almost irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. At any rate, we anchored close to the island and, sure enough, we had more like 12’ at high tide (9’ at low tide). Not long after we got settled in, our good friends on “Periclees” arrived and anchored directly behind us. As it turned out, the predicted winds did not arrive and a collective sigh of relief could be heard across the anchorage. Everything was good.

Six days later, Chris decided to go help another cruiser who had volunteered to paint the local school. It was a hot, still day and I planned to do some emailing and reading while he was gone. Not long after he left a bit of a breeze came up. Not bad but enough to cause me come up into the cockpit every 10 or 15 minutes to have a look around. Hmmm. We seem to be closer to “Periclees”. Maybe it is my imagination? I do have a tendency to think other boats are closer than they really are...my depth perception is not nearly as accurate as Chris' is. Another check and I am pretty sure we are closer. I called Chris on the VHF to tell him my concerns. He walked out of the school and said he could see the boats and our masts were in exactly the same places. OK. Then I got a radio call from Steve on “Full Quiver” who was next to us. He reassured me that it didn’t look to him like we’d moved but he would keep an eye out. OK.

I went below to do the dishes but kept checking. It still looked to me like we were closing on “Periclees” and the wind was picking up a bit. Finally, I went into the aft cabin to make the bed and when I looked out the aft port, all I could see was the word PERICLEES! I immediately got on the VHF to Chris. He went outside the school and then said, “You’re moving. Start the engine. I’ll be right there!” Then Steve called and said he’d get his dinghy down and be over in a few minutes. I started the engine and pulled up a little chain but couldn’t raise too much without leaving the helm to go to the bow and take off the snubber. Finally Chris arrived and we got the anchor up and re-set…and he was not allowed to leave the boat the rest of the day!

The next day “Periclees” left to begin their northbound trek. Later on that day, two new boats (“Cheyenne” and “Distant Drum”) arrived and anchored behind us. All was well for another 5 days. Then, we went to dinner with Michael & Laurie off of “Laura” and John & Rosie of “Serena Ray”. We had a lovely dinner at the golf course and when we arrived back at “Faith” we thought she looked like she was in a slightly different place but it was dark and could easily have just been her swing angle. Wrong! As we passed “Cheyenne”, Steve said that “Faith” had dragged right between them & “Distant Drum” and all the way to the back of the lagoon and into the mud! They and a couple other cruisers had rescued her and reset the anchor for us! The next day we found out that a squall had gone through with some pretty hefty wind and we weren’t the only boat that dragged. “Laura” was one that moved back as well but their anchor had re-set itself before she got into the mud. Still, they were also resetting in the middle of the night. We're havin' some fun now. We also heard that John & Rosie got back to their boat (a trawler) in the marina to discover deck chairs upended, the door blown open and papers, etc all over inside. It must have been quite the wind.

Chris & I have come to the conclusion that the makeup of the bottom surrounding the island may be different so we will go back to the middle of the lagoon from now on. Still, all this has served to kick some of my confidence in our anchor. Right now we are in Las Hadas and there is supposed to be some pretty substantial wind for the next couple days. This place has good holding and we took extra care to make sure we were well set but still…we will both be constantly checking to make sure we stay put. After all, it can really be a bit unnerving to discover that your house didn’t stay where you left it!

Raft Ups

An impromptu raft up was called while we were anchored in the Barra De Navidad lagoon and it was great fun to share with our guests, Phil & Anna, what cruiser’s do when they want to have a potluck in an anchorage. Shortly after the morning net, Fran on “Gosling” came on the radio to make an announcement that there would be a raft up at 5pm that evening to take place behind “Optical Illusion”. Everyone should bring an appetizer to share, something to drink, boat cards to exchange and any books and/or movies they wanted to trade.

Anna made some wonderful Italian meatballs to share, we put a few cervezas in a tote along with a couple books I’d finished reading, the boat cards and we were off. Janet & Bill from “Optical Illusion” had just arrived and set the dinghy anchor. We tied up to them and dropped our anchor as well. Dinghies began arriving from around the anchorage and before long there were about 20 tied together and floating peacefully as the sun began to set. For the next hour appetizers were shared, books traded and boat cards exchanged. Bill was “master of ceremonies” and began by introducing himself and Janet, telling a little about where they are from, where they are going and what they enjoy about cruising. Around the circle of dinghies we went with each couple sharing information about who they are, where they’ve been and, of course, similar cruising experiences and information.

By 7pm we were back at the boat and so full of hors d’oeuvres that no one had room for dinner.

Raft ups are a big part of the cruising experience. If there is one thing cruisers enjoy it is eating and sharing stories and experiences…the good, the bad and, especially, the ugly. Some folks stay mainly in marinas but those of us who are financially challenged and would prefer not having to return to the working world do as much anchoring as possible. Many times these anchorages are in places where there are no facilities where one can put on a potluck and it is a rare cockpit that can comfortably accommodate guests from 20-30 boats. Thus, the “raft up” was born. It’s a great way to get to know the other people who are “out there”, share experiences and enjoy good food and good company.

Hellos and Goodbyes

As I write this, I have just returned from a lovely evening spent with friends. Tonight was the night to meet a group of our cruising friends to watch the sunset from the top of the Olandra Hotel, share some drinks and conversation, meet a few folks we didn’t know yet and say goodbye to Pamela.
Tomorrow morning…early…Pamela and her friend, Joanne, will be leaving Barra De Navidad for the last time. She is off to Zihuatenejo for a bit and then will be going south as far as Peru before she crosses the Pacific on her way to Australia and beyond. It was a melancholy evening.
This is the dilemma that cruisers have. When we meet, we form very close bonds in a short period of time. All of us have experienced the same difficulties with snotty passages, difficult anchoring, scary entrances into unknown ports and situations the average landlubber cannot even perceive. When we get together and reminisce over what the weather was like two days ago or is predicted to be two days hence, we all know what that means in terms of our enjoyment of the journey not to mention our personal survival. For a while, everyone is going the same general direction and we expect to see each other in future anchorages or ports. Some move faster, others slower each according to their own personal timetable. Then…as fate would have it…someone decides that it is their dream to see another part of the world and that means saying goodbye.
These hellos and goodbyes are much more intense than the ones we shared in the land based world. We would get together with a friend for drinks or dinner, spend an evening catching up with what has been happening in each other’s life and end the evening with a hug or kiss on the cheek and drive home to prepare for another day at the office. We knew it would be another six months before we would see each other again but were confident that we would, indeed, see the other person again.
When cruising, saying goodbye, much too often, really means “goodbye”. It means “I wonder if we’ll ever see each other again.” It means “sail safely, stay in touch and please don’t forget me.” Some of us go east. Some go west. Some stay in one area the whole time they are cruising. There are always new and wonderful people to meet and adventures to be had but at the end of it all, there is always that darn goodbye lurking in the background.
This year we will be losing several of the closest “hangin’ out with” friends we have made. Pamela is going south and then west. Angus & Rolande have decided to head for the South Pacific in March. This is Bonnie’s last season and next year she & Jim will be back on a ranch again with their cattle and horses. I’m sure that as the season moves on we’ll find more who have decided to reach out for new horizons. And just when I begin to feel exceptionally melancholy and lonely, a new boat pulls in next to us and we discover more wonderful people who are living the adventure and having the time of their lives doing it.

Night Watch

Night watches used to be the bane of my cruising experience. I l-o-v-e sleeping…especially at night and often well into the morning. Well, truth be told, these days “well into the morning” is usually around 8:30 am. At any rate, since I began cruising there has been no option. Night watches are part of the deal. There are just never enough crewmembers on board who are willing to do the entire 6pm to 6 am shift. Sigh…

At first, during the arduous (and seemingly endless) part of the journey as we descended the Oregon Coast night watches were not only frightening but cold and damp as well. The ocean after dark was pitch black except for the frothy wind chop breaking atop each swell. The swells were coming from both the NW and SW so it felt a lot like being an abandoned sock in a washing machine. There were 3 of us on board so we stood 2 hour watches but by the time you went below, no matter how many layers of clothing you had on, you were cold, cold, cold and the first order of business (even before using the head or crawling into bed) was to set your gloves and socks inside the engine room so they would dry out and warm up before the next shift. I was often heard muttering (or whining) “I don’t know which is worse…daytime when I can see what’s coming or nighttime when I can’t.” There was nothing romantic about this ordeal and, frankly, it was often downright scary.

When we finally rounded Point Conception, the seas calmed down and night watches got much less frolicsome. But…Southern California provides its own set of obstacles. There are more large ships to be dodged, crab pots with black floats (yeah...just try seeing those at night) and, in one section huge oil derricks that were lit up like downtown Hong Kong and wiped out your night vision pretty quickly. My adrenalin level never really went below the “alarm” level until we were well south of San Diego and I realized that it was finally possible to get through an entire shift without seeing another boat. In fact, we have now done entire passages where we have seen nothing but wildlife and an occasional sail way off on the horizon.

When I finally stopped being a big knot of stress, some amazing things began to happen. One night we were passing between Cedros Island and another smaller island to the west of it. When I came up for watch in the wee hours it was so black it felt like being inside a velvet bag and you could only tell there was an island close by because it blotted out the stars. It was a narrow passage and felt very eerie so I had some real heebie jeebies going on. Suddenly I heard a “whoosh” to port of the boat. Then I heard another to starboard. Suddenly there was entire pod of dolphins swimming with us and throwing off green sparks from the bioluminescence. They “escorted” us through the entire pass just as if they could sense that I was nervous. It was an unforgettable night.

Last summer, while we were in the South Pacific, I was assigned the “primo” watches on the boat: 6-9 pm and 6-9 am. It was amazing to watch the sunset and the sunrise every day we were at sea. Every one was different and each was absolutely glorious. It is not possible to explain what it is like to be in the middle of a seemingly endless ocean when the sun makes its first appearance of the day or takes its last bow on the horizon. With nothing but water as far as the eye can see the sun is in full command and it puts on an amazing show. On morning watches I would listen to either Andrea Bocelli or Chris Botti as I experienced the “birth of the sun”. It was a heavenly experience.

The passage we just made from Los Muertos to La Cruz seemed especially long because we had no crew on board and the auto pilot had quit working so Chris & I had to hand steer for 33 hours. Still, on my final night watch, as we passed the Tres Marias Islands, the ocean was filled with bioluminescence. All around us huge green blooms exploded just beneath the surface and the boat’s wake looked like a wedding veil set with millions of tiny, sparkling diamonds. It was like sailing through an underwater fireworks display.

All these experiences have changed my feeling about night watches. I’ve gone from dread to acceptance and now to eagerness. My only regret is the magic cannot be adequately shared with words or captured with a camera. Still, the beauty, solitude and majesty of night on the sea is a gift that I can hold within my heart forever.

Fun with Turtles!

Olive Ridley Sea Turtle (photo from internet)

OK! THIS is the kind of stuff that makes cruising really fun!
Yesterday evening Chris, Mary & I went to Nuevo Vallarta and were able to take part in releasing baby turtles into the sea. What fun!
When we arrived there was a small children's wading pool that was full of turtles that had just hatched within the previous 48 hours and were anxious to get on their way to the water. The folks in charge of the release program gave a short presentation about the Olive Ridley Sea Turtle (which is what these were). These turtles are on the endangered list and Mexico is doing a great job of trying to protect them and help them to re-populate. In Mexico, it is a felony to touch a turtle...even if it is a dead one! Further, turtle eggs are still a real delicacy here and are often a part of wedding feasts and other ceremonies as they are considered to promote fertility. There is still a large black market for the eggs so the authorities have their work cut out for them.
We were told that these little babies (and they are really little...not even as big as the palm of your hand) have to swim all the way to the Marietta Islands (about 10 miles) before they are "safe" and only about 5% will likely make it. There are lots and lots of predators between here and there. Here are a couple of the really interesting things we found out:
1) The sex of the turtle is determined by where the egg is in the nest. The ones on the bottom, where it is cooler, will be males and the ones closer to the top (warmer) will all be females.
2) All the babies are born with a "power pack" built into their tummies. This is a special energy "pack" that activates as soon as they hit the water and will provide the nourishment they need for 15 days while they are traveling to their "safe" area.
3) Once they are in the water, the male turtles will never come back to land again. Only the females return and only when they need to lay eggs.
4) The releases are done at different times and in different places so that the fish (ie: predators) don't "learn" where they can find these delicacies on a daily basis.
The baby turtles are very, very cute and they feel like velvet. They are a bit slow moving when you put them on the sand (and seem to get tired out and take rest periods) but once they get to the water they are gone like a shot.
Being a part of this activity was something we all enjoyed immensely and will always remember. Since we often see these turtles when we are out sailing it was really fun to be there at the beginning of the cycle.

Note: Photos and video courtesy of Chris!

Whaaaat?

Two days ago we awoke at 5am to a "funny" noise on the cabin top...RAIN! Chris & I got up and quickly closed hatches but when we arose later to begin the day, the sun was shining and all was well again...except that the cockpit cushions were a bit on the "squishy" side. We set them out in the sun and by the time we returned from breakfast they were dry and ready to be sat upon once again.
This morning, again in the wee hours, wet stuff began pitter patting on the cabin top. I forced myself to climb out of my warm bed, run about making sure hatches and ports were closed and move the cockpit cushions onto the dashboard so they would remain dry.
What is going on?? Is this another aspect of Global Warming? Last year we didn't see rain at all from the time we arrived in Mexico until we returned to the Northwest. Granted, it is warm rain so we can still wear shorts, but it isn't exactly ideal weather for tanning or dining in the cockpit. In addition, even when the water stops dropping out of the sky and the sun makes an appearance, a residual amount of moisture remains behind (think humidity) that causes the "heat index" to increase.
Chris tells me we are right in the middle between two giant high pressure areas but that shouldn't cause wetness to fall from the sky. We are completely flummoxed about why it is raining in Mexico!
Mary is, understandably, confused as well. Is it possible the Portland weather followed her? No...NOAA's prediction for Portland today is freezing rain...quite typical for winter there. Her expectation was that she would go home with evidence that she spent a lot of time on the beach. We will do our best to accommodate that. Perhaps there's a tanning salon nearby?