Sailing with Mark and Vicki

Diving in the Revillagigedo Archipelago

2012-01-20T15:09:00.000-08:00

We just returned from an 8-day dive trip to Socorro, and are still on a high from the experience! We booked passage on Nautilus Explorer rather than take our own boat.

It was a lot of money to go this route, but we definitely count it as one of our all-time most wonderful experiences. I get very emotional just thinking about the close and prolonged encounters that we had with the mantas, dolphins, sharks, and other sea life. We do not have a decent underwater camera so I can't post any underwater pics, but we do have a nice DVD compilation of all the other divers' photos, and I have one nice manta "fly-by" video that another diver generously shared with me. Unfortunately Blogger doesn't seem to want me to upload it.

We spent the first day diving at the Canyon on the S end of San Benedicto. This is a view of the cinder cone on San Benedicto.

The next day we checked in with the Mexican navy at the south end of Socorro Island. Visits are controlled by permit, and the Mexican navy helps keep poachers from decimating the rich and abundant sea life here.

After our check in, we went on to dive at Cabo Pierce on the E side of Socorro. The next day we dove at Pta Tosca on the W side of Socorro, and then spent 2 days at Roca Partida, which was the highlight of our trip. This rock is 75 miles from the nearest other island, and drops off to 250' on all sides. Here we saw a great variety of sharks and other pelagics, including schools of wahoo and yellowfin tuna.

Our last day was back at San Benedicto at the Boiler, where we had another really good encounter with dolphins, and saw mantas on every dive. After our 3rd dive of the day, we took the zodiacs in for a closer look at San Benedicto's rugged western coastline.

Diving conditions were challenging, as we had expected: strong surge, irregular and sometimes very strong currents. Unfortunately the viz was less than we had hoped for, typically only 30 feet at San Benedicto and Socorro, and 50-75 feet at Roca Partida. Water temp varied from 74-78F.

Fortunately we had an excellent crew on board. Of the 3 divemasters, I was most impressed with Sten, a Swedish Viking who knew these islands well and showed us many interesting things underwater.

Despite the somewhat challenging conditions, this area stands out as the best diving I have ever had, due to the wildlife and their behavior. The divemasters told us they know of nowhere else in the world where the mantas are so curious about divers. Many times a group of mantas would spend the entire dive around us, whether there were 2 people in the water or 20, and would closely approach each diver. Being eyeball to eyeball with these magnificent animals is as close as I have come to a spiritual experience.

Our encounters with dolphins at Roca Partida were also memorable. Like the mantas, they seemed more curious about divers than at any other location where I have encountered them previously. One of the divemasters told us of holding a dolphin in his arms and rubbing its belly on a previous trip; our encounters were not quite that close!

We saw quite a few shark species on this trip: great hammerheads, scalloped hammerheads, Galapagos, silky, silver tip, white tip, and possibly some others. The visual highlight was the "puppy piles" of small white-tips in caves at Roca Partida and the Boiler. They were literally stacked like cordwood, and appeared to be asleep. We could drift up to within inches without disturbing them!

Other sea life was abundant and unafraid of divers, as well. I don't even want to tell other boaters about some of what I saw, as it might make them hungry! And that is the only sad part of this experience -- seeing how rich and abundant the sea can be, without the relentless pressure of commercial and sport fishers. Most dive sites will now seem empty and desolate in comparison. I'm glad the Mexican navy is there, and I fervently hope they can protect what is left of the Socorros' abundance and diversity.

Sailing in the New Year

2012-01-02T11:32:00.001-08:00

The weather has recently warmed up to more like what we remember from last season. It is so nice that we just couldn't stay at the dock, even with a ton of boat chores and school work hanging over us. So we slipped the lines and had a great sail up to Caleta Lobos, only about 5 miles outside the La Paz entrance channel. Amazingly, there are only 2 other boats here, despite the proximity to the big city, and the beautiful, tranquil surroundings. Even though the water has dropped to a chilly (at least by Mexican standards) 68F, I went in for a "polar bear swim." It was so good that Vicki and I are both going in again today. Happy New Year!

ashore for the holidays

2011-12-30T14:08:00.000-08:00

Upon our return to La Paz, we booked a month's stay at Marina Palmira in anticipation of some land-based travel and visits from friends. Its a pleasant home base. Here we are with neighbors Paul and Judy from Grace.

This poor old Turkish-built schooner has been abandoned since the death of her owners several years ago, and at this point it looks unlikely that she will be successfully raised.

back to La Paz

2011-12-20T13:49:00.000-08:00

After the norther died, we enjoyed several days of re-visiting a few of our favorite anchorages, and exploring one new one. First stop was Amortajada, where we enjoyed dinghying through the mangrove lagoon with its rich bird life.

Unfortunately, we decided to spend the night here, which was a mistake, and one that we should have known about. Anytime you have mangroves and no wind, you will find jejenes (no-see-ums), especially at night. We awoke to a familiar itch, and were soon moving along to nearby Isla San Francisco. Here it was calm enough to go up the mast for some minor repairs.

After that we hiked up the south ridge,

and collected sea salt with our friend George from s/v Susie.

Our last stop was El Cardonal on Isla Espiritu Santo. We saw a number of sea turtles in the bay

and enjoyed a short hike with the crews of Susie and Ladybug.

Isla San Jose

2011-12-16T13:36:00.000-08:00

We had a great sail south, intending to wait out the next norther in San Evaristo. However, we noticed a beautiful and sheltered bight along the northern half of Isla San Jose, and we enjoyed 2 days here by ourselves, with miles of deserted beaches, beautiful sunsets, and good protection from the norther.

Old places, new faces

2011-12-14T13:26:00.000-08:00

The winds piped up from the south during the night, putting us on a lee shore, so we pulled anchor before dawn, and enjoyed a brisk sail back to mainland Baja. The most sheltered anchorage in a southerly is Agua Verde, which we knew well from previous visits. This time around, we met some new boating friends, fellow Oregonians Hugh and Victoria on a unique motor vessel named Kaizen.

The next morning the winds had veered to the west, so we sailed around the corner and down the coast to another familiar anchorage, Los Gatos. Here we met a local fisherman, and an Alaskan on a small "trailer-sailer".

The next morning brought a colorful sunrise and a forecast of strong northerlies, so we reluctantly said goodbye Los Gatos.

Isla Catalina

2011-12-12T13:17:00.000-08:00

Leaving Ballena, the seas and winds had finally calmed, so we decided to head out to Isla Catalina.

This remote island is noted for its "rattle-less" rattlesnakes, and for its lack of secure anchorages. We gingerly felt our way into a small cove, moving dead slow, and still nearly clipped a rock with our keel.

We knew we might have to leave in a hurry, and that's just what happened, when fresh winds and waves piped up from the south during the night. However, we first enjoyed a snorkel around "Elephant Rock"

and a dinghy ride out to the SE point, where dolphins cruised along close to shore.

Monserrate and Ballenas

2011-12-11T13:03:00.000-08:00

We left Salinas the next morning, intending to sail out to Isla Catalina, one of the most remote islands in the southern Sea. However, the sea was still rough from the norther, and there wasn't enough wind to keep us from rolling in the troughs, so we altered course for Isla Monserrate, where we found good shelter in the SW bight.

There was also some nice snorkeling and a good canyon hike here, which made for an enjoyable stay. The rocks along the beach were embedded with seashells, and their fossil imprints.

The next day we continued a short ways south to Bahia Ballenas. We anchored in the lee of an enormous cliff

and to the south we could see an unbroken line of mountains.

Here we explored a sea cave by dinghy,

and had another excellent beach and canyon hike.

Bahia Salinas

2011-12-09T12:52:00.000-08:00

The norther finally stopped blowing on December 8th, and we quickly finished our business in Puerto Escondido and headed for the islands. Our goal for this trip was to visit some places we had not yet seen, so we took advantage of some nice winds and headed for Bahia Salinas on Isla Carmen. When we got there, the only other boat was mv Kodiak.

After a nice beachwalk

and exploring the ruins left behind by an old sea salt operation,

Ron and Carol kindly invited us over for drinks and fish dinner. Turns out he and I had worked for the same aerospace corporation several decades ago.

Pinned down in Puerto Escondido

2011-12-06T12:30:00.000-08:00

Cruising the Sea of Cortez is delightful – at least part of the time. At this time of year, you can count on spending about one third of the time pinned down by strong winds called “northers.” Fortunately these are quite predictable. As long as you follow the weather forecasts, you usually have ample time to find a secure anchorage ahead of time. In this case we were already in Puerto Escondido, a near-perfect natural harbor, so the decision to stay was easy.

We moved the boat, from a mooring far up in the bay, to our own anchor, set closer to the dinghy dock. This was for convenience in getting to and from shore, and because we don’t trust a mooring unless we have inspected it. The water is 65F and murky, so the idea of diving the mooring did not appeal. Our own ground tackle consists of a 25kg Rocna anchor and 200’ of 5/16” hi-test chain, and we always sleep soundly when it is deployed.

We are on our third day of this particular wind event, with at least one more day to follow. Most of the time the average wind strength has been about 20 knots. The strongest winds came yesterday evening, when we had a few gusts over 30. This is a relatively mild norther. Later in the season we will expect to see gusts of 40 or 50.

We went ashore each of the last two days; I am grading papers and exams for my job, and need Internet access on shore. Today we’ll stay on the boat, as it has gotten more lumpy in the harbor. Traveling to and from shore in the dinghy isn’t too bad in these conditions. The hard part is mounting and de-mounting the outboard, and raising and lowering the dinghy. Our cardinal rule is to never leave the dinghy in the water at night, not only to prevent theft, but because we have had it flipped over once, with the outboard on, by a high wind gust.

Puerto Escondido, despite its natural beauty and superlative weather protection, is far from my favorite destination. I won’t go into the reasons here. But it is the only choice on this part of the coast. The nearest other yachting facilities are Santa Rosalia, 125 miles to the north, and La Paz, about the same distance to the south.

This facility, like all of the “Escala Nautica” (Nautical Staircase), has been financially unsuccessful and is now for sale. If a buyer is not found, and this facility closes, Puerto Escondido will be an even less attractive stop.

Still moving in the wrong direction

2011-12-02T15:21:00.000-08:00

At a time of year when most yachts are moving south along the Mexican coast, seeking warmer air and water, we are still moving north. With a forecast of southerly winds, we decided to make an overnight passage from Isla Espiritu Santo towards Puerto Escondio, roughly 100 nautical miles north. While we don't normally make overnight passages in Mexico except when crossing the Sea, we had several reasons for doing so this time:
- there are not many anchorages along this section of coast that provide protection from southerlies.
-there is no Internet along the way, and I need to stay in close contact with my work for the next week or so.
- we had wanted to go north and revisit some of our favorite anchorages in the Loreto area, but we didn't have time to gunkhole our way in both directions. With prevailing winds from the north, this seemed like a "free ride" that would buy us more time for enjoying a leisurely trip back towards La Paz later in the month.

Having satisfied ourselves with the rationale, and checking that we had enough food, water, and fuel for the next few days, we merely had to wait until late afternoon, so that we wouldn't arrive in the dark. The northerlies died down as predicted by our weather guru Don Anderson (Summer Passage).

By the time we reached Isla San Francisco and the southern end of the San Jose passage, it was a calm and moonlit evening. We only saw two other vessels, a large motor yacht heading south, and a large sailing yacht overtaking us from the south.

Don had also predicted the development of southerly winds from an approaching front, but they never materialized. We did get enough offshore land breeze to allow us to sail once we were north of Nopolo. It was a bit fluky, going from zero to 20 at times. We sailed with only the genoa, which we could easily roll in or out according to wind strength. This was much easier than reefing the main, and we didn't need to make optimum speed. Most of the time we were moving about 5 knots.

There were literally dozens of meteors during the night, some blazing brightly all the way down to the horizon. As we approached the reef-strewn Punta San Marcial, the moon sank below the horizon, leaving me feeling a bit lonely. But along came a pod of dolphins, their chuffing exhalations providing a welcome sense of camaraderie and cheer.

We carefully double-checked our waypoints, doused the genoa in the failing wind, and motored our way between the headland and reef at San Marcial. As we reached the open water beyond, the first light of dawn had appeared behind us. Still no southerly breezes; instead, we were soon bashing our way into a steep chop, with gusts of 20 knots out of the west.

We decided to duck into Agua Verde to see if the wind would die. If we had not been in need of Internet, we would have been glad to stay here a few days. But after a few hours, we raised the anchor and headed out again towards Puerto Escondido. We still encountered steep chop and winds up to 25 knots, making this one of the wettest rides we've ever had.

We also had an unlikely head-on encounter with a boat riding downwind. We didn't see him until he was quite close, due to our large deck-sweeping genoa. Although we were on port tack, and technically the burdened vessel, I expected that he would recognize "racing rules" because a boat heading downwind has a lot easier task of changing course than one beating to windward. He finally veered away, but I sensed that he was probably not pleased at our failure to yield right of way. Oh well, I think our boat name was below the waterline because we were heeled over so far!

As usual, the wind became completely chaotic as we approached the Candeleros, dying one moment and springing up from another direction the next. Back on the engine came, and we motored the last few miles to Puerto Escondido. We'll be here for the next week or so, while I finish grading papers.

Bahia San Gabriel

2011-11-29T14:05:00.000-08:00

We spent the last 4 days at anchor near the Mogote, with strong north winds blowing most of the time. It was a nice view of town,

but a wet ride getting to and from shore in the dinghy. And this is just a preview of the stronger north winds we will get for much of the winter here.

This morning, the winds subsided, and there was a mass exodus of boats heading out to the islands or off for the mainland. We decided to stick fairly close to town, because I need Internet for my work for the next few days. After an hour of sailing, and another 2 hours of motoring, we arrived at Bahia San Gabriel, near the SW end of Isla Espiritu Santo. It is a convenient and popular choice - there were 8 boats here ahead of us.

The first order of business was to don snorkel gear and jump in the water.

Viz was no more than 20 feet, but there was a lot of fish life and coral.

We finished the day with a walk on one of the nicest beaches along this stretch of coast.

The oyster shells remind us of when this area was famous for pearls. John Steinbeck wrote a book about it.

Thanksgiving on the hard

2011-11-24T08:14:00.000-08:00

The morning came for our haulout, and of course it was blowing a norther. Not too strong, but combined with the current at our slip, it felt too risky to try moving on our own. There is a huge schooner anchored behind us, with its bowsprit looming close by. The marina sent 2 pangas over to tug us into open water.

The haulout operation at the Palmar boatyard went smoothly. We were second in line, and got to see our fellow Oregonians Dave and Donna on Salonah come out first. We had been neighbors at the Embarcadero in Newport, Oregon, back in 2003.

Next it was our turn.

Once the hull had been power-washed and dried out, I started chipping away at the area where the fiberglass wrapping the hull-keel joint had separated from the keel.

Unfortunately I stopped taking pictures because I was nervous about what we would find, and my hands were dirty with bottom paint. Once we had ground and chipped away the loose fiberglass, the exposed joint looked fine. The 5200 sealant was perfectly dry and solid, with no sign of separation or leakage. I filled the bilge with fresh water, and the outside of the keel remained perfectly dry.
The boatyard men thoroughly inspected the entire hull-keel joint and expressed the opinion that I need not worry further about its integrity. They proposed applying a new layer of fiberglass to the small area where the old glass had separated, re-fairing, and painting.
I still wanted them to check the keel bolts for tightness. Unfortunately, with the tools they had, we could only check about half of them, but all of those were as tight as they should be. To take the inspection process any further in this yard would have required tearing out a large part of the boat's interior, so I agreed with their plan to re-glass the cracked area.
While I was greasing the Max-prop and installing a new zinc to the strut, a distinguished visitor wandered by from a neighboring boat. It was Cecil Lange, a highly-regarded designer of bluewater boats such as the Cape George family. He has lived in La Paz for 23 years, and at the age of 87, still surveys boats. I was eager, but a bit apprehensive, to hear his opinion of our boat. I half-jokingly said that I wish I could trade it in for one of his designs, now that we were planning to cross the Pacific.
He reassured me that although the ride would be bumpier in our boat than in a heavier full-keel model, we would be fine. He didn't seem at all concerned about the hull-keel issue, and told me stories of boats that he had surveyed where some of the nuts had never been installed on the keel bolts! We also discussed the Hydrovane, Max-prop, and offset prop shaft on our boat. It was a great pleasure to converse with such a knowledgeable man.
Looks like we'll be back in the water tomorrow. Because of this unexpected yard bill, we have decided to move out to the "cheap seats," giving up our spot at the marina and anchoring out in the bay for the next month.

settling in to La Paz

2011-11-19T12:23:00.000-08:00

After a day anchored at Muertos, where we were surrounded by recent arrivals from the Baja Ha-Ha, the wind subsided. We got up very early and started motoring back up the Cerralvo Channel. Before noon, we had passed through the San Lorenzo Channel and decided to stop at Balandra to go snorkeling.

While we enjoyed exploring the rocks and seeing a great variety of fish, what we didn't enjoy was spotting a small crack along each side of the trailing edge of the keel. For the ten years that we've owned the boat, there has never been any sign of trouble with the bolt-on external keel. But we've heard many stories of people needing to deal with loose, corroded, and/or leaky keel bolts. Guess our time has come.

Balandra is a popular fair weather anchorage, with turquoise water due to the shallow sand bottom, and terrific scenery. Today it was relatively undeserted, with only one other sailboat. But by the time we left, an enormous motor yacht had dropped the hook not far away, and began deploying a small armada of inflatables and jetskis. This was our cue to head on in to La Paz!

We were fortunate to get a side tie at Marina de la Paz. We had originally thought we might stay at Palmira, which is a very nice marina, but farther from town and, more importantly at this point, the boatyard. Marina de la Paz is one of the original marinas in Mexico, and is a hub of boater activity, because of the dinghy dock used by boats anchored out, the Club Cruceros, and its proximity to a myriad of boater services, restaurants, etc. Its also one of the cleanest marinas I've ever seen, where we share our space with plenty of wildlife. Here's a night heron fishing from our neighbor's bobstay,

and a trumpetfish watching for its chance to snag one of the smaller fish swarming around our keel.

The first order of business was to head out for a walk along the malecon.

This is a good place to walk not only in the day, but in the evening. Here we are with a gaggle of prep school girls who were practicing their English by having gringos fill out questionnaires for a homework assignment.

Unfortunately our next order of business was to arrange a haulout to deal with the keel. We're hoping its nothing more than re-torquing the aftmost keel bolts, but we may need to drop the keel and inspect the condition of all the bolts. We're waiting for bottom paint and an upcoming Mexican holiday, so we won't haul until next Tuesday. Meantime, we're meeting many new boating friends, and working on a myriad of other planned and unplanned repairs and regular boat maintenance items.

Back to the Baja

2011-11-14T10:09:00.000-08:00

After 5 days of recommissioning the boat, visiting friends, and enjoying some of our favorite restaurants and other places in Mazatlán, we had a good "weather window" for crossing the Sea of Cortez and decided to set out. This is a very unusual direction of travel for this time of year - most boaters are crossing from Baja to the mainland and heading south. We felt a bit of remorse in thinking about all the fun cruising destinations we would miss out on in the coming months. However, we had made our plans for the winter and it was too late to change our minds. We are looking forward to a liveaboard dive trip to Socorro, whalewatching at San Ignacio, and at least two visits from friends coming to Baja in the coming months.

We set out just before sunrise on Saturday, and had an easy first day of motorsailing. About 35 miles offshore from Mazatlán we came across a pod of about 5 orcas feeding in a tight bunch. These were the first orcas we had seen since coming to Mexico 2 years ago.

An hour or so later, we came across several large pods of dolphins. They swam by the bow for quite awhile. These encounters always leave us feeling joyous and one with nature!

The wind slowly came up during the day. Usually we expect WNW winds on this passage, but today we were getting a southerly breeze from a low pressure system to the west.

Skies were mostly clear, with a few clouds on the horizon. We had an excellent sunset, and saw the Green Flash for the second night in a row (we had seen it from a rooftop bar in Mazatlán the night before).

By nightfall we had enough wind to turn off the engine, and we sailed all night under a moon that was just past full. I was grateful to get the windvane steering properly, so we could take the pressure off of our wimpy wheel pilot.

On Sunday morning, we had a colorful sunrise.

The Sierra de la Laguna, the mountains northeast of Cabo, were visible over 60 miles away off the port bow. Winds were fluky, due to the passage of the low pressure system. At one point we were pounding into a steep westerly chop, but with only a light wind coming from the NNW. The sky was covered with amazing patterns of cirrostratus clouds.

By late afternoon, the mountains were looming close ahead, and we entered Cerralvo Channel just after sunset. Isla Cerralvo is uninhabited, and is the legendary resting place of the "Vagabundos del Mar" (sea gypsies), the last of whom were still active when I first kayaked here 40 years ago.

At this point, our plan was to continue toward La Paz, with an estimated arrival time of about 2AM. However, we were still groggy from our first night at sea and the resulting lack of sleep. When we saw a ketch anchored peacefully just north of Punta Viejos on Cerralvo Island, it just looked too inviting and I decided we should join them. The hook went down and we were soon slumbering blissfully. Except for the occasional pattering of rain on the deck, all was calm.

Until 5AM. No sooner had I remarked on what a nice calm night we had had, than the wind piped up sharply out of the NW. It took only a minute or two to realize we were on a lee shore and it was time to get out of Dodge. With the engine on and the anchor raised, we started steaming up the Cerralvo Channel, alongside the other vessel that had been anchored next to us. But the wind was gusting over 20, and the chop soon built to very steep breaking seas. Because of the hobby-horsing, we were only making about 2 knots, meaning it would take us all day just to reach the San Lorenzo Channel. I turned the boat around, and we were soon surfing downwind under a partially unfurled jib, Cerralvo Island receding in the distance.

By sunrise we were passing the windsurfers' homes at La Ventana.

By 8AM we were anchored in Los Muertos, which already had about 12 sailboats, all of them flying Baja Ha-ha burgees. Looks like we'll have lots of company for the next day or so!

thoughts on dry storage vs. in the water storage

2011-11-12T09:29:00.000-08:00

Everyone who cruises tropical destinations like Mexico has to decide what to do with the boat during hurricane (cyclone) season. You can either leave the area, store the boat on the hard, or leave it in the water, someplace safe.

After our first season in Mexico, we tried dry storage at San Carlos. This is a very popular option, and the yard we were in had hundreds of boats in it and excellent security. We never thought about the boat while we were home for the summer, and everything looked fine upon our return 5 months later.

After the second season, we decided to try something different. We left the boat in the El Cid marina in Mazatlán. After 5 months, the boat looked fine. The biggest difference from the first year was that I never stopped worrying about the boat. I checked the hurricane reports daily. During one period when 2 hurricanes lingered off the coast, and some computer models showed at least a chance of one affecting Mazatlán, I booked a flight down. The bad weather never came anywhere near the boat, but I at least had peace of mind.

How do costs compare for the two methods? These are my rough figures:

Cost of dry storage:
haul/launch boat: $200
5 months' storage: $800
bottom paint (including labor): $1600
total: $2600

Cost of leaving the boat in the marina:
5 months' slip rent: $2000
boatwatch: $250
diver to clean bottom (2x): $80
RT flight to check boat: $600
insurance premium surcharge for leaving boat in hurricane zone: $300
total: $3230

Of course, all of these costs vary, depending on location and individual choices. For me, the bottom line is that had I not flown down to check on the boat, they would have been comparable in our situation. So cost in my case is not a huge consideration.

How about wear and tear on the boat? For our boat, wear and tear seemed far less in the water than during dry storage. The temperature in the boat during dry storage in San Carlos probably reached 150 degrees Fahrenheit, based on data from other boatowners with recording thermometers. Some plastic items were discolored on our return. We were able to leave our full boat covers on in Mazatlán, which really saved the gel coat from solar damage.
Another wear/tear item from dry storage: the haul/launch trailer caused a small amount of damage to the keel, which had to be faired before re-launch (at the yard's expense).

Again, "your mileage may vary."

The most important thing to consider is the list of preparatory work needed before leaving your boat in the water or in dry storage. It really helped us to talk to other boatowners who had previously stored their boats. For the locations we used, there were several days' worth of work to be done before leaving the boat and in re-commissioning upon our return. In both cases, sails and canvas should be removed, cleaned and stored belowdecks. Halyards should be skyed or removed entirely. The engine should be flushed with fresh water, and the fuel tank filled. Water and holding tanks should be emptied. Windows and hatches should be covered with aluminum foil. Winches and other delicate parts should be completely covered to protect from dust. We removed all food and sprinkled boric acid to discourage pests (we had zero in either case). Additionally, in Mazatlán we bagged up all fabric and books to discourage mold/mildew, and had no problems in that regard. There are dozens of other tasks - these are the major ones. Again, talking to other experienced boatowners helps refine the list.

So what will we do the next time around? Probably dry storage. The bottom line for us is peace of mind while you are away from the boat, and in that respect dry storage is best for us.

The long and winding road - back to the boat

2011-11-07T18:50:00.000-08:00

With the truck packed full of food, camping gear, and boat parts, we headed out of Corvallis on Saturday October 22. We drove down the coast in beautiful weather, stopping to admire the view at Cape Blanco, and spending our first night at Humbug Mountain State Park. No picture to prove it, but we experienced our first ever "Green Flash" at an Oregon beach.

The next morning, we stopped to watch the elk rutting at Fern Canyon.

We made it to Mill Valley by late afternoon and enjoyed a 2-day visit with Dave and Jean from s/v Exit Strategy. Dave took me on an exhilarating mountain bike ride to the top of Mt. Tamalpais.

From the Bay Area, we picked up the pace and made it to SoCal in only one day. We spent nearly a week visiting family members and picking up last minute items for the boat. Finally the time came to cross the border into Mexico, but despite an easy crossing, we didn't get far. We stopped to visit more cruising friends in Ensenada, Jan and Ramona on s/v Jatimo, and ended up spending the night on their sturdy 30-footer. Jatimo and her crew are veterans of two crossings to the South Seas, and we enjoyed an evening of stories and good advice.

It was hard to leave Ensenada and our friends, but the rugged beauty of the Baja soon captured all our attention, especially after we passed El Rosario and headed into the mountainous interior. We stopped to photograph and admire the amazing landscape and plants,

and visited some cave paintings made by the elders who first came to live here, many thousands of years ago.

Still trying not to rush, we decided to take a newly-paved side road out to the coast at Asunción, where we had anchored on our way down the coast 2 years ago. We then left the pavement to make our way south along a rugged and mostly uninhabited coastline, where we found our own deserted beach and camped just above the pounding surf.

We also saw our second "Green Flash" of the trip, a particularly vivid one. A strip of emerald detached itself from the sun at the last instant of sunset, and hung above the horizon for an extra few moments. Wow! The next morning we had to partially deflate our tires to get back to the road from the beach, but after this slight delay, we soon found ourselves driving on smooth mudflats between La Bocana and Punta Abrejos. We stopped to birdwatch at an estero along the way.

From Abreojos, we were on new pavement most of the way back to the main highway, and we reached San Ignacio in time for lunch. This is a quaint town in a remarkable oasis-like setting.

After a brief stop to make arrangements for a whalewatching trip next January, we continued to a campground in Mulege, our 4th night in Baja. From here it was only about another 6 hours to our final destination, with some terrific mountain scenery along the way.

Most people reach La Paz in 2-3 days from the border, but we had managed to stretch it to 5 days (of course a lot of the extra time was spent stopping to find an Internet connection, so that I could keep up with my teaching responsibilities). After all the desolate scenery from the past several days, it was a bit of a shock to come over a rise and see the bay of La Paz spread out ahead of us. Our friends on s/v Slacker call the northern approach to La Paz "tope-landia" (land of speed bumps) and it certainly matched that description!

We spent a couple of nights aboard s/v Anon, with our friends Keith and Olina. Keith is a fellow telecommuter, but one with a lot more technical savvy than I have. Here we are enjoying a tasty dinner at Rancho Viejo.

After our 2-week road trip, it was time to park the car and board the overnight ferry to Mazatlán.

This last stage of the journey was by far the easiest, despite getting a "red light" (mandatory inspection) at the Customs station. We had our own cabin with en suite head and shower, and we pulled into the Port of Mazatlán feeling clean and rested.

A short ride by pulmonía, and we were finally back to our boat at the beautiful El Cid marina. She looks ready for another season of cruising (and so does the boat)!

Stay tuned for another season...

2011-10-24T11:29:00.000-07:00

Our boat passed the hurricane season peacefully, in the water at El Cid marina in Mazatlán. Thanks to Captain George and to Jim and Meri for watching over her in our absence, and to Total Yacht Works for saving us from doing a few maintenance items when we get back. I made one visit to the boat, due to a hurricane forecast. Hurricane Jova did major damage to one of our favorite ports of call from last year, Barra de Navidad. But it barely touched Puerto Vallarta, and Mazatlán never felt a thing.
In comparing dry storage at San Carlos, which we did the previous hurricane season, to leaving the boat in the water, as we did this year, there are clearly advantages and drawbacks on either side. Overall, I think I prefer dry storage for my own peace of mind. But, at the risk of repeating myself, we had no problems in the water this year.
We expect to arrive back at the boat within a week or two. Our plan for this year is to spend most of the season on the Baja side of the Sea of Cortez, and to mix it up with some side trips - diving at Cabo Pulmo, whale watching at Laguna San Ignacio.
Come spring, we are planning to sail to French Polynesia. Neither of us is particularly eager to repeat the long passage, having done it last year on another boat. But we really enjoyed what we saw of the Marquesas, Tuamotus, and Tahiti. We are ready to explore new horizons!

Mazatlán for the summer

2011-05-23T17:36:00.000-07:00

When we got to the boat in La Cruz, all was well after our 2-month absence, but the boat was incredibly dirty - even dirtier than it had been after being stored on the hard in San Carlos for 5 months! We resolved that, no matter how fond we were of La Cruz, we would move the boat north for the summer hurricane season. We sailed out to Punta Mita for the night, then motored most of the way to Matanchen Bay the next day. The following day there was still no wind, so we motored to Isabela and spent the night there. There were no other yachts, but plenty of fishing pangas.

The next afternoon we had a light SW breeze, just enough to sail, so we pulled the anchor, popped the spinnaker, and had a nice overnight run to Mazatlán. We even saw the Green Flash at sunset (I included a link to a scientific explanation of the phenomenon for all you non-believers).

We arrived at first light, anchored off Deer Island for a few hours, then went into the El Cid marina. After a couple of days here, we decided that this would be Southern Cross's home for the hurricane season. Mazatlán has been hit by storms in the past, but so have all the other ports along this coast. The El Cid marina staff did a great job protecting boats during the last storm to hit the area, and there are several liveaboards on our dock, so we feel the boat will be reasonably safe here.

back in North America

2011-05-14T07:23:00.001-07:00

We flew from Tahiti to Los Angeles yesterday, and are continuing on to Puerto Vallarta this morning. Once we are settled back on the boat, I will update the blog. We had a wonderful time in French Polynesia, but Internet connectivity was very slow and very expensive!

Nuku Hiva and Ua Pou (aboard Aranui)

2011-05-03T16:10:00.000-07:00

My only regret about this segment of our journey is that we only had about 4 hours to see two of the islands we had not yet seen.

Before we had joined it in Hiva Oa, the Aranui had made an earlier stop here at Nuku Hiva, and passengers had time to explore the island by car. This is the principal island in the Marquesas, with several really good anchorages and a lot to see ashore. Nuku Hiva is where we will make landfall if we ever bring our own boat here.

Taiohae has a much nicer anchorage than Atuona, and a lot more yacht services ashore, that are a lot more convenient to reach. We only had time to stroll along the bay front and visit a few of the more important sites.

We spotted a few familiar boats in the anchorage. Evan, from Ceilidh, and Michael, from Whatcha Gonna Do, happened to be landing their dinghies as we were on the wharf, and I got to ask them about their passages. Ceilidh (a catamaran) had lost a rudder two days out from Taiohae.

The Aranui steamed to its last stop in the Marquesas, which had also been its first stop before we had joined it. Hakatau, like Atuona and Taiohae, is a port of entry and it also has a wharf to which the Aranui can tie up directly instead of anchoring out.

This was our last chance to buy Marquesan crafts, and we took advantage of it. We also had a nice stroll around the town.

As the Aranui got underway for the 500-mile crossing to the Tuamotus, we enjoyed the views of the fantastic skyline of Ua Pou.

Ua Huka (aboard Aranui)

2011-05-02T15:30:00.000-07:00

Everyone was up early to watch a pretty amazing maneuver. The Aranui steamed straight into the narrow harbor entrance at Vaipaee, dropped an anchor, and proceeded to turn itself around in a space not much larger than the length of the ship!

Once we were stern to, two whaleboat crews carried lines to shore to keep us lined up in the narrow passage.

This turned out to be the highlight of the day. The shoreside activities turned out to be pretty tame (lame?) compared to the three previous stops. We were piled into about 30 vehicles for visits to a small museum, a small arboretum, and a crafts store.

Next we were ferried to a good restaurant for another excellent meal. Still surprising to me that an island with only about 500 inhabitants can muster a lunch for 130 people at one sitting!

While sitting on the beach at Hane, waiting for the ride back to the ship, we enjoyed watching a few of the more athletic locals practicing surf landings in their outrigger canoes. One of them then proceeded to follow one of the Aranui whaleboats on a roundtrip, wake-surfing the whole way. These are impressive craft, with some of the strongest paddlers I’ve ever seen.

After the Aranui pulled anchor, we steamed past a few bird-covered islets on our way to the next island.

Hapatoni (aboard Aranui)

2011-05-01T15:04:00.000-07:00

We awoke to find ourselves anchored outside the bay at Hana Moe Noa, where we had enjoyed a beautiful stay the week before. From our new, much higher vantage point, we could see a school of large dorado swimming around near the stern of the ship.

This was another island that we had already seen. But as at earlier stops, we found we were presented with much better opportunities to interact with locals and see interesting sights. After a quick stop at Vaitahu, where some passengers went to church and a few others got tattooed(!),

I elected to walk the road to the next village instead of re-boarding the Aranui for the 3-mile voyage. David, a retired airman from Scotland, accompanied me, while Vicki did a little shopping!

Hapatoni turned out to be a really delightful stop because of the friendly locals. David and I, arriving early, helped hand out palm “crowns” to the rest of the Aranui passengers.

The villagers served us a delicious lunch made with local seafood and fruits, after which we had plenty of time to walk around to look at old paepae (stone platforms for traditional houses) and the not so old church.

Once we were all back on the boat, the anchor was raised and the Aranui headed out to sea. I confidently explained to Vicki how we were now heading to the northern Marquesas, a different group of islands about 70 miles away. However, about ten miles out to sea, the Aranui started turning to port, and soon we had gone full circle, returned to the coast of Tahuata, and dropped the anchor at Hana Moe Noa again! Turned out that this had been merely a chance for the Aranui crew to fish off the stern, during their Sunday afternoon off. We would steam to our next stop during the night, after everyone was asleep.

Pareu Night

2011-04-30T23:57:00.000-07:00

Besides the daytime activities, the Aranui had several evening events to entertain us. Tonight was “Pareu Night,” during which we would learn to arrange the signature clothing for both men and women of Polynesia. My initial expectations were not high, but once again Manaarii proved more than worthy of his role as activities director. This time, he showed off his impressive skills as a comedian. I didn’t record any video, unfortunately, so pictures will have to suffice. As they say in text, LMAO!

Puamau, Hiva Oa (aboard Aranui)

2011-04-30T18:14:00.000-07:00

Another day, another island. This would be the pattern aboard the Aranui for the next week. The ship would move during the night, and we would have a new destination outside our window each morning. Today we returned to Hiva Oa (the second time for Aranui, the third time for us), but this time to the north shore, the opposite side from Atuona.

Puamau is important to visitors because of its archeological site, bearing some of the largest tikis in Polynesia. Its only an indifferent anchorage, and there was but one yacht sharing the harbor with us.

Once ashore, we had a brisk, half-hour, uphill walk to reach the ancient tikis

and piles of stones called mae’ae (compare to “marae” in Hawaiian).

As at Easter Island, one of the mysteries is how (and why) these people, without much technology, had moved such large heavy stones significant distances over extremely rugged terrain.

Part of the beauty of this site was the majestic forest that now surrounded it, and the lovely view of mountains and sea.

return to Fatu Hiva aboard Aranui

2011-04-29T18:03:00.000-07:00

Back aboard the Aranui, we marveled at our changed circumstances. After having shared a cramped berth and head for the past 36 days, we now had a private cabin with fresh linen, a desk, television, air conditioning, and a private bath with a commodious shower.

After a month of impromptu (yet tasty) lunches on Evergreen, mostly eaten on our laps, we now sat down to a 3-course formal meal accompanied by wine, and surrounded by guests of at least 4 other nationalities. After lunch, we investigated our new surroundings. Although it's a small ship (350 feet or so), the Aranui is equipped with a pool, fitness center, library, shop, and several bars. At every turn, we were greeted by super friendly, helpful (and very attractive) Polynesian crew members. I kept expecting to wake up from this pleasant hallucination!

After watching the ship depart from the small harbor at Hiva Oa, we were heading back down to our cabin for a snooze when we heard the sound of many voices singing. We followed the joyful noise to a lounge area where our new buddy Manaariii, who turned out to be the activities director, was leading a group of about 30 in Tahitian dancing and singing. We tried to follow along, but we had already missed the first 5 lessons, and decided that it was probably going to take too much work to catch up.

Few people visit the Marquesas – the current estimate is about 3500 a year. Fewer still make it to Fatu Hiva, the most remote of the populated islands in the archipelago. So we must be among a very few who have actually been there twice! Yes, this was to be our first destination after boarding the Aranui in Hiva Oa. I was a bit sorry that we were spending so much money to see something we had already seen. I needn’t have worried.

Although it does carry up to 140 tourists, the Aranui is a true freighter, carrying goods of all kinds from Tahiti to the Marquesas, and returning with the copra, noni, and fresh fruit produced in these remote islands. At any given stop, you might see the cranes loading or unloading outrigger canoes, cars, cows, or Coke. The arrival of the Aranui, approximately every 3 weeks, is a big deal, and everyone turns out to greet her.

We were ferried to the Omoa wharf in outboard-powered barges. Once ashore, we saw a couple of things we had missed during our first visit here. We were taken to a palm-thatched shelter to see a demonstration of island crafts. First we were shown how tapa cloth is made, from the bark of several local tree species.

Next we were shown the art of arranging flowers, leaves and roots into fragrant bundles that are tied into women’s hair for special occasions. Everything used in the arrangement was first passed around, and the aromas were just incredible! These lovely scents are some of our strongest memories of Polynesia.

We were ferried back to the Aranui for lunch, and while we were eating the ship moved 3 miles along the coast to Hanavave. We had met only a few of the inhabitants here last week. This time, as we came ashore, most of the village was there, in traditional garb, dancing and serenading us with ukeleles, drums, and song.

Back on the boat, we attended a very interesting lecture on both the history of the indigenous people of the Marquesas, and a recap of the mostly sad events since European contact. After this first full day aboard, we could see that a significant benefit of visiting the islands as an Aranui passenger would be seeing, and learning about, much more of the local culture!

return to Hiva Oa

2011-04-28T20:05:00.000-07:00

After 4 very nice days at Hana Moe Noa, Evergreen returned to Atuona, in order to resupply and to disembark its extra crew. Can you imagine having houseguests for more than a month? Me neither! So although originally it had been agreed that we could continue aboard Evergreen for a month, or even two, after arrival in French Polynesia, it came as no real surprise when we realized that the time had come to sign off the crew list and embark on our own adventures. We had heard a lot of stories of crew relationships that had not turned out as originally expected, and sadly we had become part of yet another example. Enough said.

We wanted to continue traveling by sailboat if possible, but we couldn’t turn up any vacancies among the boats we had encountered in Tahuata and Hiva Oa. Clearly we were going to have to spend a lot more money at this point, traveling by air and staying in hotels or guest houses. However, beyond purely financial considerations, we had already invested a lot of time and effort to reach this part of the world, and we wanted to see the northern Marquesas and at least one of the atolls in the Tuamotus before flying home from Papeete. Were there any other options?

Turns out there was at least one – a combination cruise ship and interisland freighter called the Aranui. Judging from their website, you could only book a 2-week passage beginning and ending in Tahiti. However, our guidebook said that they would carry interisland passengers, space available. The Aranui pulled into Hiva Oa the night after we returned, so early the next morning I paddled the kayak to the boat ramp and walked over to the Aranui’s gangplank.

Once aboard, it was a short walk to the reception desk, where I was told that there was indeed space available, and that at least several other sailors had also been asking. I hurried back to Evergreen and brought Vicki along for a more serious look. Although the Aranui would no longer carry tourists on deck class (only locals qualified for this discounted passage), they would let us rent a vacant cabin. The handsome young man on duty was incredibly friendly and helpful. Manaarii (Tahitian for royal power) turned out to be one of our best friends on the staff and he certainly played an important role in our decision. After seeing the cabin and getting a rough estimate of the cost (final pricing approval needed to be obtained from the head office in Papeete), we agreed to sign up.

Tahuata

2011-04-26T22:30:00.000-07:00

We've been anchored for the past 3 nights at Hana Moe Noa, which Eric Hiscock described as one of the 3 most beautiful anchorages in the South Pacific. There is only one other US boat here, the others are from Austria, England, France, Holland, Italy, and yes, even Luxembourg! There is a nice coral sand beach where cruisers go to watch the sunset (and each sunset has been spectacular so far).

Behind the beach, there is a deserted farm where we can pick coconuts, lemons, and pamplemousse (like a grapefruit, only sweeter).
We snorkel at least twice a day along the convoluted, lava-rock coastline on either side of the bay, accompanied by reef sharks, giant mantas, tunas, dolphins, and myriad small reef fish.

John from s/v Calou and I kayaked a few miles to the Bordelaise Channel, which separates Tahuata and Hiva Oa by only a couple of miles.

Yesterday, a boatload of locals came to hunt wild goats in the hills above the bay, and offered to sell us fresh goat meat when they were finished. We passed.

Today we dinghied a few miles down the coast to Vaitahu, where the first European explorer, the Spaniard Mendana, anchored over 400 years ago (and slaughtered 75 local inhabitants during his brief stay). We visited a beautiful stone and wood church, but the small museum was closed, and we couldn't find the most famous tattoo artist in the Marquesas. We made lunch from fresh baguettes and windfall mangoes, then dinghied back to the boat.

a small miracle

2011-04-26T20:49:00.001-07:00

After a day of rain (except for the morning in which we had snorkeled) everyone was feeling a bit of cabin fever. John on Calou came to the rescue by offering to give an informal recital. He's a concert violinist in San Francisco, so this sounded like a wonderful treat. Phambili offered to host everyone. When we arrived, Dennis let Fiona tie up Evergreen's dinghy, using the tried and true half hitches that most of us use.

After a wonderful potluck dinner, it turned out we got a bonus act for the evening. John wasn't quite ready to play yet, so Bruce brought out his button accordion, and accompanied by his wife Pascale's vocals, belted out a wonderful selection of gypsy, Russian, and French tunes. After this warmup, John performed a few pages from a number of classical "hits" including violin concertos from Mozart and Beethoven. It was pretty amazing to hear such music while seated under the tropical sky on a gently rocking catamaran.

As the evening wrapped up, we said our goodbyes, not knowing when or where we might meet up again. Fiona went to get our dinghy, only to find that it had disappeared. This was serious. A dinghy is like a car, only much more of a necessity - there is no "public transit" in an anchorage. Fiona and Tommy immediately went out to search, but the sky was clouded over and the moon hadn't yet risen.

The prevailing feeling was that there was nothing to be done, but Dennis decided to raise the anchor and go out looking. By this time it was after midnight. He used his chartplotter and instruments to determine wind and current direction, and motored out in the direction that the dinghy might have drifted. But it seemed hopeless - the dinghy had up to a 4-hour headstart.

When I came on watch at first light, we were in big swells and high winds, nearly 8 miles offshore. The chartplotter showed where Dennis had tracked back and forth across the sea. Finally, about 8AM, he called off the search and laid a course back towards Hanavave. I went below and tried to sleep. An hour later, Vicki awakened me with the amazing news that the dinghy had been spotted, directly in front of the boat, at a distance of no more than a couple hundred yards.

We grabbed the dinghy's painter with the boathook, and because of the heaving seas, decided to tow it back to calmer waters. When we got back to the anchorage, all of the boats that had been there were gone, and a new arrival, Thetis from Holland, had taken their places. We had a celebratory breakfast, and slept away most of the day. Of course, the sun came out and we missed a glorious day, compared to the two previous ones. Toward evening we rallied for a short trip into the village to buy a few pamplemousse.

Fatu Hiva 2

2011-04-26T20:49:00.000-07:00

Thursday dawned calm and clear, so I hopped in the kayak at first light and paddled around the bay at Hanavave. Its really a remarkable setting, with cliffs rising nearly vertically from the sea, and yet covered with palm trees, ironwood trees, and other unfamiliar vegetation. There were only two small spots at which I could land the kayak, so I soon headed back to the boat and swapped out the kayak for snorkeling gear. Vicki accompanied me.

Now we're talking! This is why I wanted to come to the South Pacific. Even with all of the runoff from the recent heavy rain, visibility is at least 40 feet, and the water is a remarkable deep blue color. The first fish we saw was a 5' long whitetip reef shark, which continued on its way without as much as a glance in our direction. Soon we had reached the edge of the bay, and were surrounded by a psychedelic array of reef fish, mostly under a foot in length, with an extraordinary variety of colors and patterns. Other than Moorish idols, we only recognized a few as similar to the fish in Mexico. There are no coral reefs on this volcanic island, but corals and sponges grow thickly in places, on the boulders and cliffsides that form the boundaries of this underwater realm. Soon we spotted a large, speckled moray eel, and soon after that, a sea turtle. We continued our circuit around the perimeter of the anchorage. After awhile, we retraced our path, reluctant to cross the deep center of the bay. But there was no need to worry, we never saw another shark.

The highlight of the dive came as we were passing close by the large French catamaran, Charade. Below and to one side was a manta ray, just hanging out. This was only a modestly sized manta, about 5 feet from wingtip to wingtip (they can grow to over 20 feet). It was not at all shy, and allowed me to make several close approaches as it glided back and forth near the catamaran. The captain told me that it was there every day since they had arrived.

We finally decided it was time to head back to the boat. Thankfully we had gotten up and done this early in the day, because before long, the rain resumed with the same intensity as the day before, and the bay turned chocolate brown.

Fatu Hiva

2011-04-23T18:52:00.000-07:00

It poured rain most of the day on Monday. The Puddle Jump agent, Sondra, picked us up at the harbor and gave us a ride into town in her Land Rover. We checked in with immigration and customs; it was easy and quick. Next stop was the magasin (store) that sells meter-long baguettes for about 75 cents each (government subsidized) and a variety of other expensive, imported foods. We only had enough money for baguettes!

So the next stop was the bank. There is an ATM, but it only dispenses bills that are worth about US$100 and are hard to get changed, so after getting a withdrawal from the ATM, we stood in line at the teller to get smaller bills. There was only one teller, and several yachts were posting their bond (amount equivalent to airfare to your home country, to insure that you don't try to overstay your welcome in Polynesia), so it was about a 30 minute wait. With our new francs burning a hole in our pockets, we headed for the Make Make snack bar for burgers and beer. A shared burger platter and a beer apiece set us back US$28!!! After our first and probably last meal out, it was back to the store while we could still afford to buy something other than baguettes. The rain continued to fall heavily, so we were very happy to run into Sondra, who offered us a ride back to the harbor. We spent the rest of the day watching it rain. The guidebook has a graph that says the average rainfall for the month of April is 4 inches. We probably got close to that much today!

Tuesday morning, we bailed out the dinghy, raised the anchor, and made a 40-mile-long upwind passage to Fatu Hiva, motorsailing the entire day. Fatu Hiva is the most remote inhabited island in the Marquesas, and the most traditional in terms of lifestyle. The only way to get here is by boat (there are several cruise ships that call in about 3x/year). Josh was particularly eager to meet up with two other boats with kids his age that we knew were already in Fatu Hiva.

It was a long rough passage, but as we neared the island, we came into its lee, and we could appreciate the magnificent vista. The afternoon sun illuminated steep, striated, heavily vegetated volcanic cliffs (similar to Na Pali on Kauai), and the masts of the 4 sailboats already anchored at Hanavave. We arrived just in time to get the anchor set before the sun set.

Before we could even sit down to dinner, we were invited to one of the other boats for a "seminar" on the anchorages of the Marquesas and Tuamotus, offered by a German sailor who has made 5 previous trips through these islands. Tons of great info, and a great opportunity to meet the other sailors. Tommy and Fiona invited us to join them and their 3 kids for a 10-mile hike across the island to the one other town, Omoa.

Wednesday we got up early and packed for the all-day hike. We had 12 people from 3 yachts: Evergreen, Phambili, and Calou. A boat ride back from the other village would have cost more than $200, so John from Calou generously agreed to bring two dinghies over to Omoa in the afternoon to retrieve us. We got to shore before the other boats, so Vicki and I strolled into the small village of Hanavave. I tried out my Polynesian greeting on the first local woman I met: "ia orana." I could tell by the length and tone of her reply that I had committed some sort of faux pas. The next person I met was Daniel. He kindly listened to my fractured French questions, and explained that the Marquesan language is different from Tahitian. "Hello" here is "kaoha". Armed with the proper greeting, we now got a warm smile from everyone else we met!

Soon the rest of the group marched up from the small harbor, and we were off on our hike. Vicki and I stopped to take lots of pictures and were soon trailing the rest. A couple of local men asked if we were going to the waterfall (a much shorter hike) and we said, no, we were headed to Omoa. They looked at us like we were a bit daft, which should have been a clue.

We were surprised that the concrete road continued beyond the edge of town and started switchbacking up the steep mountainside. The French have invested a lot in basic infrastructure, even on this most remote of the islands (it is amazing what a country can afford to do when its budget is not dominated by military spending). We stopped and filled our water bottles at a pure mountain spring bubbling out of the hillside, and continued trudging up the steep road until we reached a spectacular viewpoint over the village and the sea. The concrete soon ran out and we were now walking a dirt road. Tommy and Fiona told us that they had done this walk 17 years ago on their first voyage across the Pacific, and at that time there was nothing here but a footpath.

As we had ascended to the level of the bottom of the clouds, it was not too surprising when we started feeling a light rain. The cooling effect was welcome. The only disappointment was that we had not brought our waterproof camera, so photos were limited to lulls in the rain. Onward and upward we went, until we had left the original valley far behind and were traversing a series of ridges. The vegetation was somewhat reminiscent of Scottish moorlands, except that in some places the grasses and low shrubs were supplanted with a variety of tropical trees. Orchids bloomed along the roadside in several places.

We finally reached a tin-roofed shelter with a picnic table underneath, at about the same time that the rain stopped. Everyone was still in high spirits, but that was about to change. After we finished eating and started downhill for the first time, the rain came on again, lightly at first, then harder, and eventually we were being pummeled by some of the most torrential rain I've ever seen. Though the temperature was still in the 80s, I think we could have actually gotten hypothermic had we not been hiking. Most of the group were wearing running shoes and socks. Vicki and I had on Chacos, and these were far better suited to the conditions - deep puddles, oozing mud, and red torrents of muddy water. The forest along this part of the trail was incredible - enormous mango trees and a huge variety of other unfamiliar species.

Finally the storm spent itself and we reached the concrete again, which told us Omoa was not far off. When we had descended below the clouds, a cruise ship could be seen anchored out to sea. Once in town, we found baguettes, beer, and a number of inquisitive cruise ship passengers wondering how in the world we had managed to become so filthy and sodden! We were glad to find John waiting with the dinghies. After a quick tour of town, we loaded up and made the 3-mile return trip to Hanavave by sea.

Arrival in Hiva Oa

2011-04-18T09:08:00.000-07:00

After several windless nights, the wind kept blowing about 20 knots during our last night at sea, throwing our calculated time of arrival off. Fortunately, the full moon gave us a nice view as we closed with Hiva Oa, the largest island in the southern group of the Marquesas, just after midnight. The air was filled with the humid fragrance of the island's dense vegetation. We slowly made our way along the coast, hove to for a couple of hours, and entered the small harbor near Atuona just before dawn. A brilliant rainbow shone against the precipitous, emerald-green cliffs across the bay, and a pod of dolphins escorted us for the last mile in, making this landfall truly memorable and picturesque.

There are about 15 other cruising sailboats here, with hailing ports like Melbourne, Australia, Prague, Czechoslovakia, and London, England. The average boat size is at least 45 feet, making the anchorage rather snug. We're anchored bow and stern in only about 8 feet of water. Our passage time was almost exactly 24 days (even though this is the 25th day, we didn't depart until later in the day).

Because we have arrived on a Sunday, we can't officially check in until tomorrow, but our agent had told us we could go ashore. So after a couple of hours of rest, and hoisting our yellow "Q" flag, we inflated the dinghy, paddled to the quay, and wobbled ashore, still swaying with the motion of the sea that has been our life for the last 3 and a half weeks. Everything was closed in town, so we contented ourselves with a stroll around the "neighborhood." The most delightful sights were plants and animals. We spent a half hour watching a flock of goats in their pen. It is good to be back on land!

Day 24 - last full day at sea

2011-04-17T20:14:00.000-07:00

We're now less than 100 nautical miles from the Marquesas. We've had to slow the boat down in order to time our arrival for daylight tomorrow.

The weather has been quite mellow the last couple of days - gentle swells of 8 feet or less, winds less than 20 knots, resulting in light chop and a fairly smooth ride. Night watches have been cheered by the light from the waxing moon. Yesterday we were surrounded by a pod of very small and very frisky dolphins for nearly a half hour. It felt like we were being welcomed to Polynesia. The sunset was one of the more colorful ones we've had so far.

Some summary of the voyage seems in order, before memories fade. For myself (Mark) I can say that I was never scared or seasick. On the other hand, I never really felt 100%. I expected to adapt to life at sea, and I have; however, I never really enjoyed the passage as much as I had hoped. The highlights for me were the intense, deep blue of the sea; the knowledge that we were traveling through one of the most isolated places on the planet; and the surprisingly easy sailing conditions that we enjoyed for most of the trip. The drawbacks were boredom -- the feeling that the voyage was WAY too long; the dearth of sea life (a few dolphin sightings, no whales, no albatrosses); the difficulty of getting enough exercise; and the constant need to hold on or brace against the movement. Generally, I felt confined, nearly imprisoned. This is not good when I consider that this boat is larger and more comfortable than our own boat. We enjoyed pretty much unlimited water and a wide variety of food, which will not be the case if we do the crossing in our own boat.

Am I glad I did it? Yes, it has always been a dream of mine and I'm very grateful I finally managed to do it, even though I didn't get here in my own boat. Would I do it again? At this point, I'm not sure I would give up the time and freedom to repeat such a long passage. But I won't pass final verdict until we've seen something of the islands.

Vicki now: I too am glad I've done this passage (almost there). Signing on as crew with Evergreen has allowed me to experience this passage with less stress, since it's not our boat, but now here we are without Southern Cross, and I'm ready for my own 'home'. Today is day #24 at sea, and I will admit that it's been very, very difficult for me. The movement of the boat, trying to hold on and balance,lack of exercise, and struggling with seasickness has at times put me 'over the edge' within myself. I've managed to maintain, with meds, and I've done my part as crew, which has been 6 hrs./day watch and helping out with galley chores. Each day in itself has passed by quickly, with the exception of missing sleeping with my hubby, but many times I have talked to myself about how much I wanted to be done and off the boat. I also found myself thinking a lot about family, friends and the beauty of the NW, our home/surroundings, and our sweet, so livable small town of Corvallis. So, what's next? We'll see how we do during these next couple of weeks, as we have until May 20 when we fly out of Papeete in Tahiti. The land based travel will cost us way too much money, but hey, we're here, so we'll do and see what we have planned. I certainly could go on and on about the group dynamics, but that can wait for when I have more personal time with all of you.

Today is Briana and Jesse's wedding, and our hearts are in SoCal with them. Congrats to you two! Other happy events coming up: B-days: Missy (today), Bryan , Eric H. Bruce and Larry H. (all in April).
May: Bob R., Mark W., Ian, Claire, and Faye. I'm listing these now, as we've heard that internet on the islands can be as much as $60/hr., thus not much contact with all of you until we return to Mexico May 23. We love you all, and REALLY miss you all.

Day 21

2011-04-13T19:59:00.000-07:00

Our tranquil passage across the Equator is a distant and misleading memory, as we navigate our way across the doldrums. Mark Twain, in his book "Following the Equator" describes the doldrums as: "variable winds, bursts of rain, intervals of calm, with chopping seas and a wobbly and drunken motion to the ship."

And so we find it. After two days of unsettled, squally weather, today's dawn brings more of the same.

Back home in Oregon you might just call it crappy weather and leave it at that. But we sailors call it "convection", which more accurately describes the process which creates the crappy weather. However, my theory is that this particular meteorological term should be pronounced "can vex one."

To emphasize the most vexing property, the mish-mash of wave patterns cause the boat to roll, toss, and wallow in a very unpredictable manner. You will be waiting to pour a cup of coffee, and just as you think you've timed it right, you pour the coffee onto your arm instead of into your cup. Or you will be holding your toothbrush, waiting for a calm moment to let go of the ship with your other hand so you can pick up the toothpaste tube with the other hand and quickly squirt some onto your toothbrush. The moment arrives, or so you think. You let go of the handrail, grab the toothpaste, and are immediately launched across to the other side of the head compartment, where you break your fall with the hand holding the toothpaste tube, which promptly squirts its contents down the wall.

Another vexing property of convection is the effect on our attempts to steer a steady course and make the most efficient use of the wind. We'll be reaching along with 15 knots of wind or so, and a squall will suddenly arrive with anywhere up to 35 knots of wind. The wind vane, sails, and course must be adjusted to the new conditions, the quicker the better. Once we have adapted everything to suit the squall, it passes by, leaving us becalmed and wallowing in its wake. No matter how long you wait, as soon as you've started the engine, the wind returns, starting the whole process all over.

At night, with only one person on watch at a time, we prepare the boat for the worst, with a double-reefed main and a small staysail. This usually guarantees light winds and no surprises. If we want more wind during the night, all we have to do is leave the genoa out or the main unreefed, which will usually guarantee a fire drill in which all hands must be called up to shorten sail expeditiously.

But the most vexing thing about this part of the trip is the overall effect on mental state. Quoting from Mark Twain again: "...on long voyages...the mind gradually becomes inert, dull, blunted; it loses its interest in intellectual things; nothing but horse-play can rouse it, nothing but wild and foolish grotesqueries can entertain it. On short voyages it makes no such exposure of itself; it hasn't time to slump down to this sorrowful level."

But at least we are getting closer to our destination. Less than 500 miles remain. Our position this morning is 04 deg 12 min S, 133 deg 05 min W.

Day 18

2011-04-11T19:01:00.000-07:00

We crossed the equator yesterday morning on my watch, at 5:15 AM, with the first light of dawn just barely above the horizon. I woke up the captain and crew so all could watch the countdown on the GPS, poured out a bit of tequila for King Neptune, and gave my own private thanks. We postponed the group celebration for later in the morning - costumes, toasts, and good cheer!

We were surprised to be sailing in 7 kts of breeze by noon, less surprised to be motoring again last night. The doldrums can extend quite far on either side of the equator, so we have been lucky to sail as much as we have.

Everyone's thoughts have now turned toward the islands that are still nearly 700 miles away. We broke out the French textbook and started practicing useful phrases. We have read and re-read descriptions of anchorages, inter-island routes, and shoreside attractions. However, we are still 6 or 7 days away, with lighter than normal winds in the forecast. This morning's position: 2 deg 00 min S, 130 deg 15 min W.

Day 16

2011-04-08T19:08:00.000-07:00

We're within two days of our next milestone, crossing the Equator into the South Pacific. All of us are "pollywogs" meaning that we haven't yet sailed across the Equator. Once we cross, we have to undergo certain rituals, including a sacrifice to Neptune, and then we will become "shellbacks." My father underwent this initiation 70 years ago in the Merchant Marines, and I will be thinking of him as I follow in his wake.

The ride has been somewhat more "boisterous" in the last few days due to unsettled weather. Seems like whatever course we make causes the boat to wallow and roll heavily. I thought this would be something you get used to with time, but it is actually pretty tiresome at this point for all of us, and for the other boats on passage with whom we are in daily contact. We're trying not to think about how far we still have to go.

The fishing continues to be disappointing; only 6 bonitos, in two separate events where we hooked up on all 3 lines at once. Three of the other boats have caught mahi mahi, which is what we would like to catch.

The skipper dug out a spare water pump for the generator, and it works like a champ now. No need to alter sail in order to generate electricity.

Our position this morning is 03 deg 40 min N, 129 deg 15 min W.

Day 13 - halfway

2011-04-05T19:32:00.000-07:00

We just passed the halfway point, about 1380 nautical miles from both Mexico and the Marquesas. This is one of the most remote areas on the planet, and certainly the most remote location that I have ever visited. We haven't seen even a single jet contrail to remind us of civilization.
Two days ago (the last blog entry was in error - should have read Day 10), we passed through the predicted "mini-cyclone." We only saw winds of 25 knots, but the seas built quickly, giving us a pretty bumpy ride for most of the day. We also got our first rain, which gave the boat and its passengers a warm and quite welcome washdown.

By the end of the day, the winds had died back to 15 knots and the seas had flattened out. Yesterday was one of the nicest days thus far - enough wind to fly the spinnaker, and long, gentle swells with hardly any chop. The sky overhead was clear, while fluffy cumulus clouds marked the horizon in every direction. Its warm enough now that we wear bathing suits around the clock. Really a delightful relaxing place to be. However, we did get hit by our first squall - a low, compact stratus cloud pushing winds of about 20 knots and packing some rain. We'll be seeing lots of these for the rest of the trip. They require us to shorten (reduce) sail, because a sudden blast of wind could tear a sail or knock the boat on its side.
The captain's temper has been frayed by a finicky generator. We carry solar panels, but not enough to power the refrigerator, freezer, autopilot, radar, computers, and other power-sucking devices on board. The generator needs to be run every day for a couple of hours just to keep the batteries partially charged, but the raw water pump that keeps it cool by circulating seawater through it doesn't suck in enough water while the boat is underway, especially if we are heeled. So we have been forced to slow the boat down for a few hours a day while Dennis tries to coax the generator into submission, and I try to stay out of his way.
PS - happy birthday to Ruth, Tonya, Steve, and Nicholas, and happy anniversary to Will and Kim! Vicki likes to keep track of these dates, even though we can't contact you separately at this time.
Our position this morning is 08 deg 30 min north, 125 deg 15 min west. Mark
Hey all, I miss you tremendously. We keep ourselves busy with scrabble, cribbage, reading, and I've been the assistant, and sometimes the 'lead' person in the galley. What I feel the most lack of is exercise, but I try to do my stretchy bands and some Jane Fonda & yoga now and then. Not easy while heeled over! I think of my friends and family every day, and especially during my night watch while I listen to music. So often a particular artist brings up a specific person in my thoughts, and I find myself reviewing fond memories of these people. Love you. Vicki

Day 11

2011-04-02T19:31:00.000-07:00

After I had already posted yesterday's entry, we had an unusual and noteworthy event. Vicki was on watch and spotted a sail on the eastern horizon, about 4 miles off our port side. The other boat was on an intersecting course and passed within a mile and half astern of us. It could only be Pericles, who has been within 25 miles for the last week or so. This was confirmed during the evening radio roll call. Pretty amazing to see another vessel this far from land!
I recorded a boat speed of 0.00 knots for the first time during this morning's watch. At least we have a favorable current that is still carrying us along close to 1 knot. We don't want to motor this early in the trip; we need to save fuel for the doldrums as we cross the equator. The wind finally picked up around 2pm, and as I write this we are making over 6 knots with the spinnaker and unreefed main. But the highest wind we have seen today is only about 12 knots.
The morning weather forecast from Don Anderson in Oxnard, CA, confirmed that this is part of a large pattern of unsettled weather. He predicted formation of a "mini-cyclone" in the next two days in our vicinity. There will only be winds of about 25 knots associated with this, but it will make for a large area of irregular wind patterns. So much for the tradewinds! The early season forecast was for "reinforced" (stronger) trades due to La Nina. So far its been just the opposite.
Our afternoon's entertainment was provided by a booby, which skidded in for a landing on the bimini top and ended up clinging precariously to the lifeline, right where I had pinned my towel to dry after showering. I waited for the inevitable blast of booby poop to befoul my towel, but he repositioned himself in a few minutes and I was able to whisk it out of reach. No harm, no foul. At that minute all 3 of our trolling lines were hit by bonito, and all hands rushed on deck to reel in the catch of the day. The booby seemed to know what this was all about, and rather than being scared off by all the commotion, he (she?) peered intently at the fish as they were being reeled in. All were too small to keep, but one had swallowed the hook and was too injured to be released, so we put it in a bucket and held it out to the booby. He gamely tried to get his bill around this supersized snack, but it was several orders of magnitude larger than his gullet and he had to reluctantly give up.
At that point, Dennis decided enough with the booby and its poop, and sprayed both off of the boat with a freshwater hose. But the booby was determined to make the most of this temporary roosting spot, and after circling a few more times, landed on the radar dome partway up the mast. A perfectly flat, booby-sized perch! Josh tried to dislodge it with his (nonlethal) pellet gun, by shooting peanuts at it with a slingshot, and by trying to heave a line up to scare it away. Nothing worked, and Dennis took up the battle with the heaving line. He succeeded only in snagging the free end of the spinnaker halyard around the radar dome, leaving us temporarily unable to lower the spinnaker. Carol got everything back to where it should be, but as darkness falls, the booby is still firmly perched atop the radar dome!

Day 9

2011-04-01T20:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we had another great spinnaker run. The sea has smoothed out to the point that the windvane can steer the boat by itself even as we surf along at over 8 knots. This is some of the most enjoyable sailing I've ever had, the boat doing what it does best, the sea giving us a smooth ride, the sky as clean and unpolluted as I've ever seen it, and no need to worry about rocks or boat traffic. And I'm happy to report that we have seen very little trash out here, perhaps 3 plastic containers in all.
We had a pod of dolphins swimming along with us in the afternoon, a welcome reminder that we are not alone on this big ocean. We also caught our first fish since the marlin strike back on day 3. Two Mexican bonito, which were small enough that we released them back to their saltwater home. Still waiting to see an albatross!
Today is April Fool's Day. The joke on us is that the wind has died, when we are supposed to be in the NE trades! Vicki and I have the graveyard watches, she 1-4 AM, and me following from 4-7 AM. Last night I awoke during Vicki's watch at 2AM because of the sails slatting and the boat wallowing along at less than 2 kts. When I came on watch what little wind there was seemed to be veering to the E, taking us a bit N of W, so we jibed the boat over where we could make some southing. When Carol came on watch at 7, we poled out the genoa and now we're making between 3 and 4 knots. Dennis is sharpening his fillet knife in anticipation of more fish, hopefully big enough to eat!
Our position this morning is 14 deg 23 min N, 121 deg 34 min W. We're over 1000 miles from mainland Mexico, and still more than 1700 miles from the Marquesas.

Day 7

2011-03-30T19:05:00.000-07:00

We're now 900 nautical miles from the mainland, but still less than 1/3 of the way to the Marquesas. We had a wonderful sail today, as we finally reached the NE tradewinds. Despite light winds during the night, we had a run of nearly 150 nautical miles over the last 24 hours. Dennis and Josh put up the spinnaker right after breakfast, and we flew it all day long, reaching speeds of over 9 knots at times.
It is still surprisingly cool, even at mid-day. Once we reach the tropical heat, we will probably look back nostalgically at this respite. The solid overcast we've been experiencing for the last few days gave way to a brilliant sunset. Vicki and I were hoping to see a Green Flash, especially as Dennis, Carol, and Josh have never seen one and are skeptical of its existence. But no luck this time.
Our position this evening is 15 deg 23 min N, 119 deg 00 min W

Days 4-5

2011-03-29T19:13:00.000-07:00

Well, we weren't able to stop at Socorro Island. We arrived in the middle of the night, and it was too dark to approach for anchoring, and Dennis did not want to heave to. We were a bit disappointed to miss a peek at this world class dive destination. But there is a big advantage to not stopping, and that is to take advantage of the nice winds we are experiencing.
These coastal winds are forecasted to die by Thursday, and we won't arrive at the NE tradewinds before then. Interesting -- we are nearly 700 nautical miles from land, and yet we still have to go another 150 miles or so to reach the tradewinds!
Another interesting thing about the weather is how inconsistently the winds blow, especially at night. During last night's watch, I saw anywhere from 7 to 18 knots of wind, with such variations occurring as little as 5 minutes apart. This makes it a challenge to use our windvane, as it needs to be reset with large changes in wind strength (or even small changes in direction). Fortunately, Evergreen is equipped with a hydraulic rudder, which makes it easy to use as a trim tab, to compensate for shifts in wind strength.
Although we have not seen any other shipping for the past 3 days, it doesn't feel very lonely out here, as we are checking in with three different HF radio nets. There are more than a dozen boats on their way from Puerto Vallarta or Los Cabos to the Marquesas that are checking into the Puddle Jump net each evening. We were surprised to find that one of them, Pericles, is only about 20 miles behind us (he had been anchored at Socorro and left a few hours after we passed it by). He is close enough that we can communicate by VHF radio (channel 16). The other boats are all at least 200 miles away.
Sea life is pretty sparse so far -- we have had no hits on our fishing gear since the blue marlin strike a few days ago. Yesterday, a pair of spinner dolphins executed a synchronized leap off our port bow, which almost made me wonder if they had escaped from Sea World!
Bird life has been mostly boobies, with the odd tropicbird, shearwater, or petrel thrown in. It's not completely accurate to say that we have caught no fish, because every morning we find one or two tiny flying fish that have landed on the deck during the night.
We're all pretty much adjusted to the constant motion, although sleep is sometimes interrupted by a particularly hard roll to port (we're on a starboard tack). We have been sailing with a reef in the main the entire time, in combination with the 140% genoa, the staysail, or both. This morning, the wind shifted slightly from N toward NE, so we have poled out the genoa wing and wing.

The sea is a beautiful cobalt blue, and if you look over the side, the rays of the sun shimmer down into the depths. It is a delight to be here!

Day 3

2011-03-26T19:45:00.000-07:00

We've had a great passage so far. Often this is the slowest part of the voyage, just getting from the West Coast of Mexico to the NE tradewinds. But we've had steady winds in the 10-15 knot range, allowing us to average over 5 knots in boat speed. We've seen a number of ships. There has not been much sea life, but we saw a group of spinner dolphins somersaulting in the air yesterday, and today a beautiful billfish with the most amazing, irridiscent blue pectoral fins and tail made a few passes at one of the fishing lures we have been trolling. Carol has been keeping the crew well fed, and with four adults the watch schedule is pretty relaxing.
Early tomorrow morning we will close with Socorro Island, and if conditions permit, we may go for a snorkel before carrying on with our passage.
Our position this evening is 18 deg 54 min N, 110 deg 19 min W. We have N winds 18kts, and a NW swell of about 6 feet. We're steering a course of 250 true, and making over 6 knots under reefed main and staysail.

Adios Mexico!

2011-03-24T07:04:00.000-07:00

We pulled away from the dock yesterday morning, and motored across the Bay to Nuevo Vallarta, where we presented our passports and ship's papers to the port captain and an immigration officer, and enjoyed our last Mexican food for awhile. After clearing out, we tacked out of Banderas Bay in winds varying from zero to 20 knots. Evergreen can really get up and move once the apparent wind hits 20 knots. We saw up to 7 knots on the knotmeter, sailing close-hauled under staysail and reefed main. This is probably the only time we'll be heeled over for the entire passage to the Marquesas. Unfortunately, all the extra provisions didn't fit inside lockers, and some had been stowed in less secure positions. A container of rum broke loose and dumped most of its contents into the bilge. You're supposed to contribute some booze to King Neptune as you cross the equator - hopefully we'll get credit for this early contribution!
Just before dark, we pulled into the anchorage at Punta Mita, and put the hook down for the night. We want to have plenty of daylight when we head out to the open ocean for the first time.
In a couple of hours, we'll be heading out into the big blue Pacific! Next stop Hiva Oa.
I will attempt to post to the blog while underway, but for anyone wanting to follow our progress visually, you can go to: www.winlink.org/userPositions and look for KI6HAI (the skipper's ham call sign).

Still waiting

2011-03-21T21:29:00.000-07:00

Evergreen is not ready to leave the dock yet, so we're still here in La Cruz. Yesterday we rode the bus to Sayulita with Scott and Monica from Scott Free. We first met them in Bellingham three years ago. We had a nice day, and took a long walk to a nearly deserted beach south of town. The surface of the sea looked deceptively calm, but the periodic sets breaking against the rocks were dramatic!

Night of the Iguana

2011-03-19T08:51:00.000-07:00

There is a large tree near the walkway from the marina into town, and every evening we look up to see iguanas perched in the uppermost branches. They presumably are seeking shelter from predators. They're still there in the morning, but after the sun has warmed them, they climb back down to the ground for their day jobs. This morning I counted ten of them, some up to four feet long.

We're more active than the iguanas, but not by much. We're in a holding pattern while Evergreen makes final preparations for the passage to the Marquesas. We've cleaned the boat and prepared it for a 2-month nap, and we've purchased our return air tickets from Rangiroa to Papeete to LA to PV. We've said good-bye to cruising friends who are heading north towards the Sea of Cortez for spring. Today I'll go over to Evergreen to help splice some line. Anticipated departure date is currently next Tuesday.

Tsunami effects

2011-03-12T12:09:00.000-08:00

As I posted yesterday, most boats elected to leave the small boat harbors in Banderas Bay, in anticipation of a tsunami surge estimated as large as 2 meters in height. Turns out that is almost exactly what we got. What is surprising is how long it has lasted. There is still a noticeable surge in and out of La Cruz marina, nearly 24 hours after the first wave arrived yesterday. Several of the channel markers (similar to this one) were swept away by the current.

Out on the deep waters of Banderas Bay, the tsunami was not detectable. While enjoying a beautiful afternoon of sailing, we followed radio reports from shore, reporting a surge of about 30 inches at about 1pm local time. The surge cycle grew in strength, until a maximum water level change of about 66 inches was reported around 3:30pm. The surge cycle was as little as 10 minutes. This rapid movement of water generated strong currents at the marina entrances for La Cruz and Nuevo Vallarta. Several boats reported being unable to buck the currents to get back into the marinas, and the rest of us were advised to remain in open water for the night. This was a problem for some of the boats here for the Banderas Bay Regatta, as they had left the dock without anchors or chain! There were probably about 150 boats anchored out at La Cruz (normally there would be between 30 and 40).

We returned to our slip in the marina at first light. There was still a strong current at the entrance, rapidly shifting between ebb and flow. River running experience was helpful for "reading" the water and counteracting the current. Although it doesn't appear so in this photo, these two boats nearly collided as strong currents pushed them out of the channel and toward the shore.

Back in the marina, damage from the tsunami was immediately evident. At least two fingers at the end of Dock 11 were destroyed, and at least one piling was bent.

These docks were intended for 60-foot boats, and were only constructed 3 years ago. According to one eyewitness, the break-up took place within a few minutes' time. Fortunately, no boats remaining in the marina during the tsunami were damaged, as far as I know. Vicki and I extend our sympathy to the people of Japan who have been so severely affected by this event. This was a reminder that we are all connected on this Earth, and that we are no match for the forces of nature which can strike anywhere, anytime.
Note: a dockmate who is a professional writer has a great blog post and excellent photos on this event, from the perspective of someone who stayed in the marina for the duration:
http://maiaaboard.blogspot.com/

Tsunami warning

2011-03-11T07:19:00.000-08:00

Awoke to news of the devastating earthquake in Japan. The tsunami warning map showed the arrival of a potential wave here in Puerto Vallarta by around 1pm local time. After some confusion and further forecasts of up to a 6-foot surge here in Banderas Bay, we, along with most boats, left the marina for deeper water. It was amazing to see so many boats out on the Bay at one time, far more than the number of racing boats for the Regatta.

Right around 1pm, we started hearing reports on the local radio of the arrival of the surge at the various marinas around the Bay. Water levels went up and down as much as 6 feet in as little as 10 minutes, creating strong currents in the entrances and damaging some of the docks. The first surge was by no means the strongest.
Now, at 5:30 PM local time, 4 1/2 hours into this event, boats are still being advised not to enter the harbors due to strong currents. Hundreds of boats are milling around the bay. There are concerns over a second set of tsunami waves from the second earthquake. We are not sure whether we will anchor out or even heave to under sail
We have not suffered anywhere near the damage inflicted on ports in California, let alone Japan, but this is still a reminder that humans are still no match for the forces of nature!

Whales and other tales

2011-03-10T10:07:00.000-08:00

We've had many close encounters with whales over the years. A humpback surfaced a few boat lengths ahead of us off the west coast of Vancouver Island. A minke came up not 15 feet off our stern quarter in the Catalina Channel. We've had to dodge entire pods of whales here on the Mexican Riviera. But we've never hit one -- yet!

It does happen. A J-boat sank on the 2009 Baja Ha-ha after overtaking a pod of whales in high seas. Bernard on Simple Pleasures hit one near Careyes a few years ago. Last week, Darryl and Donna on Luffin' It became the latest victims. They were sailing into Tenacatita Bay when a whale came up under them unexpectedly. It appeared to have its tail trapped between the fin keel and the skeg-hung rudder. It shook the boat violently, and gave a series of mighty thumps. By the time it was over, the boat was extensively damaged and taking on water. With the help of fellow cruisers, they stabilized the situation, and were able to continue on to Banderas Bay, being towed the last 40 miles by friends on 40 Love.

The boat was hauled out the other day here in La Cruz, so I went over to see the damage and talk to Darryl and Donna. They were pretty shook up by the event, as would be expected. The boat has major damage, which is still being assessed. The most visible damage from the outside is the prop strut. Normally sticking straight down from the hull, it is now bent off to the side like a big banana.

Our sympathies go out to Darryl and Donna, who have had their cruising season cut short unexpectedly.

Our season in Mexico has also been cut short, but for an entirely different reason and not an unhappy one! Our friends Dennis and Carol on Evergreen have invited us to join them and their son Josh for the passage from Puerto Vallarta to French Polynesia! We have been looking forward to this for many years, and had even planned to take our own boat across this year, but decided the boat was not quite ready. But we are ready!

Evergreen is a Liberty 458, part of a family of boats including the Kelly-Peterson 46. It should be a comfortable ride for the 5 of us. Having this many onboard will make for a relaxed watch schedule and plenty of time to contemplate the vastness of the Pacific.

The planned departure date is March 18. I'm still grading papers, but Vicki is already helping Carol with boat jobs and provisioning. We are still trying to figure out how to update the blog from the boat. The passage from here to Hiva Oa in the Marquesas is over 2800 nautical miles and will take approximately 3 weeks. After touring the Marquesas, the boat will continue on to the Tuamotus and then on to Tahiti. We will fly back in late May or early June to put Southern Cross to bed for the hurricane season, and then return home for the summer.

Return to Banderas Bay

2011-03-06T08:00:00.000-08:00

After Carnaval, we had no further excuses to linger on the "Riviera." The water in Tenacatita is still plagued with red tide, taking the fun out of snorkeling and swimming. With a good weather forecast, we raised the anchor and steamed out of Barra. By noon there was enough wind to sail, and by 3PM we had the anchor down in Chamela.

On the way into Chamela, the Dutch yacht Witte Raaf pulled alongside, and Joanneke snapped some great pictures of Southern Cross under sail.

We laid over a day in Chamela, and then took off the next afternoon for the 100nm passage around Cabo Corrientes and into Banderas Bay. Although the forecast was good, and we started off under sail, we were soon beating to weather and being body-slammed by short but steep seas. As darkness fell, a fleet of shrimpers approached, so we began motorsailing almost directly into the wind, the hobby-horsing motion slowing us to a measly 3 knots.

I had to drain the fresh water from our bow tank to keep the bow from diving into the seas. Finally, around 4AM, we approached the Cape where conditions were actually quite mellow. The wind and seas died, and our speed increased to our usual 6kts under power.

Once into Banderas Bay, we got some favorable wind for sailing, along with some terrific whale sightings. We were anchored in La Cruz before noon, after a 19 1/2 hour passage.

Plans for the rest of the season are now in flux. We have just been offered crew positions with friends leaving for French Polynesia in a couple of weeks. Stay tuned!

Mardi Gras (a week early)

2011-03-03T12:28:00.000-08:00

We're not sure why Barra celebrates Carnaval a week earlier than almost everywhere else. Be that as it may, we sure enjoyed the Mardi Gras parade! Here's a selection of photos and video clips that will hopefully convey some of the fun.

Of course, there was a Queen:

But this is a town that plans ahead. They even elect a "Baby Queen":

The gringos even got to elect their own King and Queen (Vicki is on the right, asking the King how he was chosen):

And this being Mardi Gras, the other variety of "queen" was on display as well:

If you can't be a queen, you can always be a princess:

Like all good parades, this one had horses:

And cows:

The cows seemed a bit dismayed to be followed so closely by the butcher:

Some of the participants brought a distinctly Caribbean flavor to the event:

But overall it was a family affair:

Here are a few video clips to give you a feel for the event:

Carnaval in Barra

2011-02-27T18:23:00.000-08:00

After two weeks in the Manzanillo area, we turned the boat around for the season, and began the long trek north. But we only got as far as Barra, where we wanted to stay for Carnaval. We love Barra. Here's one of our favorite views - the giant tree outside of the Sambuco restaurant.

Barra is a very small town, but the town fathers have promised a great celebration this year: a fishing tournament, bike race, lots of music and entertainment. Here's Barra from the other side of the Lagoon, on the hill above the Grand Bay Hotel.

The festivities started on Thursday night with the burning of the effigy of "bad humor." A group of so-called "Cannibals" roamed the streets of the town, teasing anyone with a scowl on their face and bringing a few up to the stage as if they would be the ones to be burned (coincidentally many of these were gringos). We got there late, just as the fire was winding down. In this picture it looks like the Cannibals have set an amp on fire - its just an unfortunate camera angle.

Today there was a fishing tournament for kids. The officials repeatedly warned the adults to let the kids do the fishing, but everyone was having too much fun to pay attention to the rules.

We stopped for a mango on a stick at this colorful fruit stand.

After the fishing tournament, a number of amateur acts took the stage on the malecon. In this picture you can see that the wind has started to blow. In fact, it nearly blew some of the entertainers right off the stage!

One of the best groups was this dance troupe from Colima, who did everything from ballroom numbers to folklorico dances from various regions of Mexico.

There was much more entertainment, but the high winds got us worried about the boat. With good reason, as it turned out - at least five boats dragged their anchors today. But everyone pitched in to help. Here, a group of cruisers gather on the bow of one boat whose anchor had dragged, to help him get it securely re-set.

Another boat was unattended, and locked, so there was no way to start the engine or the windlass without breaking in. We did the best we could under the circumstances, but the boat eventually dragged into shallow water where its keel dug into the soft mud. Once aground, the boat stayed put until the owners got back!

When the wind's not blowing, the lagoon is alive with birds. It is always entertaining to watch the pelicans, cormorants, boobies, frigatebirds, terns, and gulls diving for their dinner!

Vicki and I have resumed our early morning walks on Isla Navidad, around the Grand Bay property. Its great for birdwatching and exercise. Here's a woodpecker we spotted this morning.

Here's the anchorage from Colimilla, the small village near the hotel.

And some architectural detail.

Diving in Manzanillo Bay

2011-02-16T17:48:00.000-08:00

After a week or so in Barra, we made our way another 20 miles south to Manzanillo Bay. There are 3 anchorages in this area, all among our favorites: Carrizal, Santiago Bay, and Las Hadas. Each offers something different from the other. Carrizal is one of the few undeveloped bays along the coast with reasonable shelter for anchoring. It's refreshing to spend a night somewhere where there are no lights ashore. Santiago is a wide, open bay with a nice beach lined with palapas and fine homes. Las Hadas is a small cove next to the luxury hotel of the same name. For a 100 peso daily fee, you can park your dinghy on the dock, drop off your garbage, take on fresh water, and use all of the hotel's amenities, such as swimming pool and workout center. Although the hotel is a bit long in tooth, it's still a beautiful place to visit.

After a week in the bay, we've already anchored in all 3 spots, and are currently in Las Hadas for the 2nd time. Our bud Kris on s/v Rocket Science is here, and as at Chamela, we've enjoyed sharing a few dives with him. Our underwater camera doesn't seem to be very waterproof, so we are not taking it underwater any more. The pictures below were all taken by Kris with his Sony camera in an Ikelite housing.

Here's me at a dive site on the Julupan Peninsula, just outside of Santiago.

Although you can easily snorkel it, we enjoyed a dive on the wreck of the 300' San Luciano, at the SW end of Santiago Bay.

We found this odd couple, a balloonfish and a green moray, hanging out together near the stern of the wreck.

A reef stingray prowls the sand around the wreck.

This colorful nudibranch, about 2" long, is tentatively identified as Hypselodoris agassizii, one of about 100 species of nudibranchs found in Mexico. Between us, Chris and I have seen 5 different species so far.

The rest of these photos were taken either at the Julupan Peninsula site, or at Los Frailes, a set of rock pinnacles about a mile out in the center of the bay.

Another dorid nudibranch, tentatively identified as Glossodoris sedna.

This is a well-camouflaged scorpionfish.

A juvenile Cortez angelfish.

Some soft corals (or possibly anemones).

Finally, although we usually have to look hard to spot eels, this Jewel Moray was right out in the open next to our anchor at the end of one dive.

Birdwatching in Barra

2011-02-08T17:31:00.000-08:00

One of our favorite activities while anchored here in the Barra lagoon has been early morning birdwatching on Isla Natividad. One day MJ from Grey Max led a number of cruisers on a bird walk; after that we came over on our own for several mornings. From the lagoon its a short dinghy ride to this dilapidated dock.

One of the first birds we saw was this ibis, on the beach near the dinghy dock.

Unfortunately we weren't able to photograph many of the birds we saw, and none of the more colorful ones: the black and yellow caciques, the orange-breasted buntings, the golden cheeked woodpeckers, and the orchard orioles all eluded our camera. We did manage to catch some of these turkey-sized caracaras improbably perched in the trees, but they always seemed to hide their heads. Maybe they thought that if they couldn't see us, we couldn't see them!

Here's one of the few small birds we managed to photograph, a scissor-tailed flycatcher.

Most of the walk is along roads and through a golf course, but eventually we worked our way across the peninsula to a wild and beautiful beach,

Among the birds we spotted there was this whimbrel.

We can't wait to get back to Barra in a couple of weeks for more birdwatching!

Tenacatita to Barra

2011-02-03T08:14:00.000-08:00

After 11 days, we finally managed to pull the anchor and head out of Tenacatita. Its such a perfect spot, its been hard to leave. Our last day here, the Mexican navy arrived,

and boarded most of the yachts anchored here.

They were very polite, even more so than the US Coast Guard. According to the commanding officer, my Spanish fluency helped the process go a little quicker than for some of the other boats. Basically they asked to see ship's papers, passports, and navigation equipment. They also snapped photos of the passports and our nav station. At the end, they asked us to fill out a "how did we do?" type of questionnaire. We gave them "muy buenos" across the board. The Mexican navy has a good reputation among the cruising community, and we're glad they're here.

The next morning, we decided to follow Slacker into the Barra Lagoon, 12 miles away.

On the way, we celebrated Vicki's birthday. That's a little groundhog sticking up out of the muffin alongside the candle.

Barra has ATMs and other "necessities", along with a laid-back ambience. For some reason we missed this stop last year. Mike and Julie from Slacker gave us a tour of he town. So far, the highlight for me is the French baker, who delivers croissants and other delightful pastries direct to the boats anchored in the lagoon. We couldn't decide what we wanted most, so we got a baguette, chocolate croissant, raisin danish, and an almond pastry!

We finished Vicki's birthday with a night on the town with the Slacker crew. We had drinks on the hotel rooftop, followed by pizza.

Tenacatita

2011-01-29T08:59:00.000-08:00

We reluctantly bid farewell to Chamela and traveled another 30 miles down the coast to one of our favorite anchorages from last year, Tenacatita. While we had no wind, we did see a lot of dolphins and whales along the way.

Tenacatita is one of the calmest anchorages along this coast, and has an excellent beach for walking and activities. There are nearby spots for snorkeling, surfing, and fishing, and you can also take your dinghy up the nearby estuary for a "jungle cruise". Many boats spend the majority of their season here. The "mayor" of Tenacatita and his wife are veterans of "The Farm", one of the most famous and successful American communal living experiments back in the 1970s. Here Robert (red hat), the "mayor", welcomes the rest of the cruisers ashore for the day's activities.

The usual menu might include volleyball, bocce, and beachwalks, but today Don and Deb from Buena Vista taught us to play cricket, in honor of Australia Day. Vicki made a nice line drive and scored a couple of runs.

Whales come right into the bay, and there is even a resident dolphin, named "Chip" for obvious reasons.

The only reason to leave the anchorage is to resupply with food, water, and beer. This week Slacker organized a panga ride across the bay to La Manzanilla. We actually had two very full pangas.

La Manzanilla is a small village with a growing population of gringos. Perhaps for that reason, it appears cleaner than some of the other villages.

One tourist attraction is a lagoon full of 12-foot long crocodiles. We couldn't spot any on this particular morning.

After a leisurely breakfast at Martin's, and a stroll through the tianguis (flea market) we tried to find our way up to the hillside for some views. We got lost on a dead-end road, but Lee and Laila kindly invited us inside their beautiful home for a view across the bay.

Finally, we did our shopping and boarded the panga for a return trip to the anchorage.

Every Friday, the "mayor" organizes a dinghy raft-up and potluck to meet and socialize with the other boaters. This week Vicki, Robert and Eric blew 3 conch horns in harmony to kick off the raft-up.

The end of another beautiful mid-winter day.

Nudibranchs

2011-01-20T13:43:00.000-08:00

We have been in Chamela over a week now. A big reason for staying here so long has been hooking up with a new friend who is crewing on a boat with a dive compressor. Kris is here alone for a month while the owner-skipper attends to business elsewhere. He needed a dive buddy and someone to help him move the compressor in and out of the boat, so it has been a symbiotic relationship.

(photo copyright Kris Scanlon-Hill, 2011)
We've been diving the nearby point, and several of the islands across the bay from us. While we've only expanded our fish species list by one or two, we've learned to spot nudibranchs. We've only found two species so far. I have identified one species as Elysia diomedea, with the help of nudipixel.net The cool thing about this species is that it eats algae, and retains living chloroplasts in its own tissue. So is it a plant or an animal, or both?

(photo copyright Kris Scanlon-Hill, 2011)
Kris identified the other species as Chromodoris marislae, also using Nudipixel.net.

(photo copyright Kris Scanlon-Hill, 2011)
Beside nudibranchs, we've spotted a lot of eels: zebra and green morays, sharptails, and a few other species. We've also seen numerous octopi. A real treat yesterday was hearing a continual background conversation among a nearby pod of humpback whales.

Out of the water, we've enjoyed socializing with Kris, and our friends Adam and Cindi on Bravo, and their guests Carol and Glenn. We all had dinner on board Kris's boat the other night, as a beautiful full moon rose over the Jalisco coastal mountains.

Punta Mita to Chamela

2011-01-14T05:54:00.000-08:00

After our thorough resupply in La Cruz, we headed out to Punta de Mita, at the northwestern tip of Banderas Bay. The anchorage here has the reputation of being more rolly than La Cruz, but in current conditions that's not the case. At least we can't feel any difference using our new "flopper stopper" (a folding stainless steel door that is hung over the side from our whisker pole and helps reduce roll motion). The attractions of Punta Mita are: less crowding, cleaner water, more undeveloped scenery, and surfing. Many of the boaters anchored here have surfboards, and spend much of the day at the point break a mile or so from the anchorage. I joined them in my surf kayak.

Vicki preferred the calmer waters along the coast in the other direction.

After 4 days here, we headed back to La Cruz. On our way in we passed Pacific Jade sailing out to Punta Mita.

We returned to La Cruz, hoping that a friend of a friend would be bringing a replacement part for us. The part didn't show up, but we had a fun evening watching the Oregon-Auburn game with Adam and Cindi and a group of fellow sailors at the La Cruz Yacht Club. We're not football fans, but when your home team goes to the national championships for the first time (ever?), it's something to see. It was a good game, even if our team lost.

The next evening, we pulled the anchor and headed across the bay toward Cabo Corrientes. This promontory, like all capes, deserves sailors' respect for its ability to funnel winds and churn up current, so we had chosen our weather window carefully. It was a relatively smooth passage, although we did manage to break the aging belt on our autopilot in the confused seas near the point. This meant we had to hand steer for the remaining 10 hours to Chamela. We got a few hours' break when an offshore breeze came up and we could steer using the windvane.

We encountered two pods of whales in the last 15 miles of our passage. The second pod surfaced right in front of us after a deep dive. Whoa! I was too scared to think about taking photos. One friend hit a whale in this area a few years ago, and I can see how it could happen.

Reaching Chamela, we finally felt that we had found what we had been looking for: clear water, warm water, and warm air (all relative terms of course). After a rest day to recuperate from our night passage, we spent all of yesterday enjoying what this area has to offer: a miles-long beach that is perfect for walking, palapa beer stands, and excellent snorkeling off the reef at the tip of the bay. Last year we got some of our best underwater photos here.

Vicki invited Whirlwind and new friends Katie Hill over for dinner. Bob and Janet are accomplished bluegrass musicians and kindly brought their guitar and banjo for some after-dinner music in the warm evening. Just beautiful!

On the hook in La Cruz

2011-01-06T11:26:00.000-08:00

We've had a great couple of days anchored outside of the La Cruz marina. We've had generally light breezes to keep us cool, but not too much chop to make it uncomfortable. Fish, rays, and dolphins swim by every day, and the water glows with phosphorescence at night. Here are Adam and Cindi enjoying happy hour aboard Bravo.

A short dinghy ride and a few blocks' walk takes us to pretty much everything we need in the way of food, beverages, and entertainment. Yesterday we topped off our tanks with 2 5-gallon jugs of purified water (we used 9 gallons in 5 days, which includes sun showers). Today we went to the local fish market, just steps away from the dinghy dock, and bought a half-kilo of this beautiful yellowfin tuna for tonight's sushi.

We also sampled empanadas, atole, and tamales from local vendors. These delicious homemade tamales, which we had for lunch back on the boat, were less than $1 apiece.

What we couldn't find at the open market was readily available 3 blocks away at one of the small tiendas. We also picked up some hot tortillas from the local tortilleria. Tortillerias are easy to find down here, you just listen for the squeak and creak of the tortilla machine!

Finally, we successfully renewed our 3G Internet service for another month. This is a somewhat mysterious process which can be quite costly if not done properly. As tourists, we cannot sign up for recurring service, we have to buy it in monthly increments. We do this by first paying money into our account at the local OXXO convenience store, using our 10-digit telephone number. Then, on the day our service expires, we have to wait until we get a message telling us its OK to renew. Then we send a text message requesting renewal, and wait for a confirmation message that it has been renewed. Last month I didn't get the confirmation, and found that instead of a monthly rate, I was being billed by the megabyte. I burned through 500 pesos, the cost of my monthly contract, in a period of 2 hours! Here is Adam using our laptop to phone Seattle one Skype, while Vicki stands by to take notes if needed.

One of the cruisers, Katrina, has been organizing shoreside events and coming around to all of the boats with flyers so we know what is coming up. Two nights ago we went to an open mic session at a British pub. Tonight there's happy hour and a free showing of the ultimate sailing film, "Captain Ron." Tomorrow there's a potluck, etc. But we will probably raise the anchor in another day or so, as we have finished our chores and are eager to do some surfing at nearby Punta Mita.

Passage to La Cruz

2011-01-05T13:56:00.000-08:00

Our New Year's resolution: to stay warm! And since the temperature was steadily decreasing in La Paz, that meant heading across the Sea of Cortez to mainland Mexico. And since I always find it hard to stay awake until midnight on New Year's Eve, we decided the best way to see in the New Year was on an overnight passage. The weather forecast looked favorable to us, so we headed out of the city just before noon on the 31st. Woo-hoo, what a sail! We made the nearly 300 nautical miles to Isla Isabela in about 52 hours, including a couple of hours just tacking out of Bahia La Paz.
Going through San Lorenzo Passage we were greeted by a school of manta rays leaping fully six feet out of the water. Then we turned downwind, the direction we will hopefully be in all the way south from here. This was our first time using the windvane steering system this season, so it took some time to dial that in. We had to shorten sail to double-reefed main and just a barely unrolled genoa, even though we were sailing 150 degrees off the wind. Luckily the seas never got too nasty, and by the evening of the 1st we were coming into the lee of the mainland. It was great to see our namesake constellation, the Southern Cross, for the first time since last season.
Because a rhumbline to La Cruz takes you too close to the forbidden Tres Marias prison islands, we set our waypoint for Isla Isabela, Mexico's answer to the Galapagos. This would be our 3rd visit to Isabela, but we weren't sure if it would be safe to stop because of the large swell running. However, when we arrived late on the afternoon of the 2nd, the southern anchorage was fine, and there were actually more boats here than during our previous two visits.

We decided to lay over a day here and enjoy some of the best wildlife viewing we have ever had. It was early in the nesting season, so there weren't too many chicks or even eggs, but nesting activity was in full swing for the frigatebirds and boobies.

We also enjoyed watching some stilts probing for food in the shallows of the island's crater lake.

The evening of the 3rd we decided to run the rest of the way to La Cruz. Unfortunately, our wind had run out on us and we motored almost the entire way. But it was an enjoyable passage and we had an excellent green flash over the Tres Marias (although this picture didn't quite capture it).

We arrived in La Cruz just in time for the morning net, and it was great to hear a number of familiar vessel names on the roll call, including our good friends Adam and Cindi on Bravo, who had made a pretty fast run down from San Diego for their first visit to Banderas Bay.
This was a pretty long passage, but the difference in temperature is worth it. Nothing to wash but swimsuits and T-shirts for the next couple of months!
This morning we paddled our inflatable kayaks with Adam and Cindi over to Bucerias, for a delicious breakfast on the beach. Life is good.

Sailing with Fred and Faye

2010-12-29T15:02:00.001-08:00

While I was away, Vicki had a great time enjoying the run-up to Christmas in La Paz. As soon as I returned, we cast off the dock lines and headed out to Isla Espiritu Santo for a few days. The weather was pleasant for sailing and anchoring, if a bit on the cool side. We snorkeled and hiked the beaches and canyons, packing as much in as we could before heading back to La Paz for Faye and Fred to catch their flight home to Oregon.

La Paz

2010-12-25T14:46:00.000-08:00

On the morning of December 20th, after 5 days of relative solitude, we finally came into Internet range as we neared Isla Espiritu Santo. My email held the sad news that my mother had passed away 4 days earlier, on the 16th. This followed a long illness and a month in hospice care, so it was not unexpected. I made preparations for a quick trip back to the USA. Vicki had to stay with the boat, as we had guests coming the next day. Amazingly, I was able to book a flight on short notice, avoiding a 22-hour bus trip and cross-border connections. I flew "home" to Mexico on Christmas Day.

San Jose Channel

2010-12-19T14:06:00.000-08:00

Winds remained light most of the day after leaving Los Gatos, so we thought we would try anchoring somewhere along the coast of Isla San Jose. However, as we reached the narrowest part of the San Jose Channel, the winds increased to nearly 20 knots, so we decided to "go with what we know" and head for San Evaristo. This anchorage is nearly bombproof in prevailing northerlies.
The next morning dawned perfectly clear and calm ("Charlie-Charlie" as we say on the radio), so we motored 3 miles across the channel to Punta Salinas. There is an old salt-mining operation here, which makes a hike along the beautiful beach all the more interesting.

Next, we motored another 3 miles south and anchored off the mouth of one of the largest mangrove swamps in Baja, called Amortajada. There is something surreal about gliding along in a swamp that is surrounded by tall cactus and red rocks!

We almost got trapped in the lagoon by the falling tide, and had to use our river-running skills to keep from running aground on the way out!

Next stop: Isla Coyote. This is another spot best reserved for calm conditions, so we hadn't been able to visit during all of the windy weather we experienced last spring. Unfortunately, this time around, while weather was favorable, we found the island nearly deserted for the upcoming holidays! We still enjoyed the whalebones and the view of surrounding islands.

We finished the day by anchoring at Isla San Francisco, where we experienced our first coromuel wind of the season. A sure sign that we are nearing La Paz!

Los Gatos

2010-12-18T13:51:00.000-08:00

This calm weather anchorage had eluded us last spring, so we were particularly keen to stay here this time around. Sailing along the coast from Agua Verde is like taking a trip in the Grand Canyon.

When we got to Los Gatos, we found our friends Rain Shadow and Sea Horse had left us plenty of room.

We enjoyed a hike along the colorful shoreline, and discovered while snorkeling later why there are so many birds here.

The water was full of fish! However, our underwater camera doesn't seem to be very waterproof, so we'll content ourselves with photographing above water for now.

Los Gatos is a beautiful anchorage, even in silhouette.

The next morning, we had a beautiful sunrise and excellent conditions for continuing our southward passage.

Agua Verde

2010-12-18T13:13:00.000-08:00

After a couple nights at Coronados, we motored south on a perfectly calm sea to Puerto Escondido, the only fuel dock between Santa Rosalia and La Paz. We fueled up and left as soon as we could, as we wanted to take advantage of the perfect weather. As we headed toward the Candeleros, the wind piped up and we raised the sails. However, the wind constantly changed direction, due to the high mountains nearby. We found ourselves running downwind at one time, and beating to windward a minute later. It was quite a workout to keep trimming the sails in response to the fickle breezes!
We decided to revisit one of our favorite anchorages from last season, Yellowstone Beach on Isla Monserrat. This anchorage is only tenable in calm conditions. There were no other boats at the island, and we enjoyed walking on an untracked beach. The stars burned brightly that night, undimmed by any city lights.

The next morning the wind came up early, out of the south, and we found ourselves beating to windward to reach our next destination, Agua Verde. As we closed the shoreline, the winds eased, and a large pod of dolphins came by to swim along with us for a mile or two.

We discovered a week later that this was the exact hour at which my mother passed away, several hundreds of miles to the north. However, being unaware of this at the time, we enjoyed a very nice stay at Agua Verde, with far fewer boats than during previous visits.

We snorkeled off Roca Solitaria, and later saw a pair of spotted eagle rays and a swirling "baitball" of barracuda right next to the boat.

Isla Coronados

2010-12-14T12:51:00.000-08:00

From San Juanico, we made our way south to another favorite anchorage. Isla Coronados is protected, along with about 50 other islands in the Sea of Cortez, as part of a Biosphere Reserve. Jacques Cousteau once characterized this area as the "aquarium of the world." You need a Park Pass to visit the islands, and there are regulations similar to protected areas in the US. Our friends Ron and Maryann on Whirlwind left a few hours after us, and had a much more exciting sail in higher winds. Later in the afternoon, the wind came up and we moved to the south side of the island for better protection. We were treated to a spectacular show of dolphins leaping and somersaulting about the anchorage, presumably in search of food.

The next morning we moved back to the main anchorage to enjoy its turquoise waters and sugary sands. We did yoga, hiked along the desert shoreline, and had a nice potluck with the other boaters in the cove.

San Juanico

2010-12-13T18:31:00.001-08:00

Two days of nice downwind sailing brought us to one of our favorite anchorages in Baja - San Juanico. I first came here 30+ years ago by sea kayak. It hasn't changed much, but development seems imminent, to judge from the survey markers and "private property" signs. For now, at least, it remains a welcome respite from civilization.

We left a couple of mementos at the "Cruisers' Shrine" for departed sailing friends.

And we went on a nice hike over to "Rancho Santa Ana" on the other side of the bay with Ron and Maryann from s/v Whirlwind.

Santa Rosalia

2010-12-08T18:22:00.000-08:00

We spent 5 days in Santa Rosalia while I graded papers and finished other chores related to my teaching assignment. We like this town - it has a distinct personality that has not been "tarted up" for tourists. There are tons of interesting shops, great taco stands, and lots of places to walk. We were lucky that the winds were not too strong this time - it can really get dusty when it blows here.

Passing of a friend

2010-12-05T06:47:00.001-08:00

This morning we learned that a sailing friend from last season had passed away yesterday afternoon. We first met Gary and his wife Lorri in Oceanside, when we were checking out marinas by car. We were impressed by their friendliness, their beautiful boat, s/v Endless Summer II, and their dog Buster. We didn't meet up again until Chacala, where we spent a couple of nights anchored, and then sailed onward together to Punta Mita. Gary was a retired firefighter and had been a para-rescue jumper in the military - the very picture of strength, bravery, and ability. He also was one of the friendliest cruisers in the pack, and a gifted storyteller and writer. We were always happy to come into an anchorage and see Endless Summer II.
Toward the end of a very successful first season in Mexico, Gary learned that he had leukemia, and headed home to California for treatment. He, Lorri, and the doctors fought it with everything they had, but the disease prevailed, and the world lost another wonderful human being. Fair winds, Gary, we'll always remember you fondly.

Feast of Santa Barbara

2010-12-04T19:28:00.000-08:00

We happened to arrive in Santa Rosalia the day before the Feast of Santa Barbara, who is the patron saint of the local church. So this evening we went in to town to watch the procession and share in the feast. While we were waiting for the procession to begin, we had some great homemade tamales, tacos, and a thick yummy drink called champurrado.

The procession was led by a local marching band, but unfortunately I didn't get any good pictures of them. After the band, there was a group of dancers. They had great costumes, but I'm not sure of the meaning or significance.

The youngest dancer tripped over a traffic cone during the routine, but mom rushed out from the crowd and set him back in line before anyone knew what happened.

They were followed by a Yaqui Deer Dancer. Again, not sure what this has to do with Santa Barbara, but it was the highlight of the procession.

Next were some young girls dressed as Santa Barbara. We looked up the story of this saint - a rather gruesome story!

The entire procession made a turn through downtown, and ended up back at the church about 45 minutes later. The band played for awhile outside the church door, the dancers danced, and finally everyone went inside for mass.

This is the church which is supposedly designed by Gustave Eiffel, before he did the Tower. It's made of prefabricated metal, and dates from the late 1800s, when the whole town was run by a French mining company.

We shared tonight's festivities with crew from Third Day, Hotspur and Escape.

Northern Crossing

2010-12-03T19:10:00.000-08:00

We got back to San Carlos on Tuesday after a week in California visiting Mark's mom. The temperature has really gotten colder, and we can't wait to head south. However, its the end of the term, and Mark needs an Internet connection for grading papers and exams, so options for moving are limited for the next week. We almost just stayed in San Carlos, but when we heard the weather report, it was too good to pass up a chance to sail the Northern Crossing to Santa Rosalia. Plus our friends Dennis and Lisette on Windward were planning to go.
So we got up at 3 this morning, dropped the mooring lines, and motored out of the bay. It was a very dark morning, with the last crescent of moon just coming up, so we used radar and a spotlight to find our way out without hitting any rocks or moored boats.
There was a little wind coming down the Sea from the NW, and after a couple of hours of motorsailing, we shut off the engine. After the sun came up, the wind continued building until we had to tuck in a reef, and still we were making over 7 knots. It was a great ride while it lasted. We were joined by pelicans, boobies, and dolphins along the way.
Unfortunately, by the time we came abeam of Isla Tortuga, the wind had veered to the north and lost strength. We motored the last 25 miles to Santa Rosalia, where we are tied up at the Singlar Marina. We went out for dinner and found some great street tacos.

Still in San Carlos

2010-11-26T10:37:00.000-08:00

My mom has entered hospice care, so we left the boat on a mooring and returned stateside for a final visit. Thanks to friends in San Carlos who are watching the boat for us in our absence. Ric on Solera took this shot of Southern Cross sailing back from San Pedro to San Carlos in a freshening northerly. Note that the genoa is partially furled, and the deck is crowded with kayaks and dinghy (kayaks are deflated and stowed on longer passages). We only have a few shots of us under sail so we are very grateful to Ric for this one.

Roy Orbishark

2010-11-17T08:19:00.000-08:00

Last night one of the cruisers put on a puppet show as a benefit to raise money for spaying and neutering local stray animals. Jim, from s/v Anne Marie, is the puppeteer. Other cruisers were enlisted to help with lights, sound system, bubble machine, and other props. It was a great show, and we can't wait to see it again. Here's the star of the show, "Roy Orbishark."

Special guest "Tina Tuna."

Special guest "Eelvis."

Special guest "Ray Charles."

The show was held at one of our favorite taco stands, J J's. That's J J in the middle.

Cañon de Nacapule

2010-11-14T17:35:00.000-08:00

We got bored hanging out in the anchorage today, although that sounds ridiculous when its so beautiful here. It looks a bit like Greece, don't you think? Southern Cross is the boat anchored to the right.

Anyway, we decided to take advantage of having the truck here, and drove to a nearby canyon that several locals had told us about. We had to negotiate 3 miles of bad road, and several herds of cattle, to reach Cañon de Nacapule. I'm not sure why there was a stack of adobe bricks next to the trailhead...

The temperature was only about 70, so the canyon's shade was not especially needed today. On a really hot day, this must be such a welcome refuge! Interpretive signage told us that the Yaqui and Mayo (not Maya) Indians had frequented this canyon for thousands of years.

The vegetation is an exotic mix of cactus, fig trees, mesquite, and palm trees.

The figs have an amazing way of sending their roots through seemingly solid rock.

There are seeps and springs throughout.

The canyon forks about half a mile from the trailhead. The left fork quickly brings you to a steep climb, negotiated by a rope ladder. Vicki didn't think it was worth the trouble and waited below.

I thought it was worth it, if only to take a picture of her from above.

The right fork was easier going, and had lots of wildflowers and verdant foliage. There were also some colorful butterflies, but they were too fast for my camera.

The palms are amazingly well adapted to seasonal flash flooding. The base of this tree has been scoured down to a toothpick, yet it still had a healthy fan of green leaves at the top.

A beautiful oasis in the desert, and a nice break from the boat!

Shakedown cruise to San Pedro

2010-11-12T15:28:00.001-08:00

We followed our friends on Windward about 15 miles up the coast from San Carlos to this beautiful crescent-shaped cove. For two days we snorkeled, sea kayaked, collected murex shells left behind by fishermen, and hiked along the beautiful Sonora desert coastline.

This sea cave was over 100 yards deep, with a small beach at the back and ropes for tying up pangas. Looks like local fishermen camp here regularly.

The first norther of the season was predicted for later today, so we sailed back down to Algodones, a more protected cove just outside of San Carlos. The wind came up, as predicted, while we were on our way. We had an uncontrolled jibe while looking at the chart and trying to figure out our approach to the cove. Later, while we were dousing the mainsail, the traveler car blew off the track, probably due to the earlier jibe. This is a picture of Solera, a vintage Columbia 40, that sailed back to San Carlos at the same time as we did.

Now, at 4:30 PM, we're safely anchored behind Venados Island, watching a pack of kiteboarders ride the 25 kt winds back and forth between the beach and our boat. Replacement parts for the traveler have already been ordered from San Diego, thanks to Skype Internet phone.

Happy Anniversary

2010-11-08T21:26:00.000-08:00

No, not our anniversary. But I'm getting ahead of the story. Today was a busy day, a difficult day, and a sad day.
A busy day, because we still have a lot of work to do before the boat is ready for cruising under sail. Today we had a marine surveyor look over all of the boat's systems and equipment so that we can try to get insurance for our bluewater crossing next spring. As usual, this survey adds more tasks that need to be done. Vicki needs the rest of the afternoon to run errands. We want to finish things up so we can move out of the slip and onto a mooring, saving about $30 a day.
A difficult day, because on top of the boat work I have a ton of papers to grade. I spent at least 8 hours on the computer today and this evening. My shoulders hurt.
A sad day, because of my mom's continuing illness. She's been in the hospital for almost 3 weeks now. We keep hoping for good news, but today we heard of more setbacks.
Finally, at the end of the day, something happened to make all our cares drop away. We went for a walk along the malecon, the walkway ringing the marina. Its cool in the evening, and the stars are out, so its always a nice way to finish the day. But on the way back, something special happened. We heard music, and it turned out to be a small, lively band playing cumbias under a small ramada overlooking the sportfishing dock. As we approached we could see a single couple dancing to the music. They beckoned us over and encouraged us to join them. They had the waiter bring us a couple of cognacs. The music is great - the band segues to Carlos Santana, Tito Puente, salsa, tejano. We're all dancing and laughing together. Timbales, guitar, bass, vocals all sound so nice under the stars. Anna is talking and flirting with the band while Ralph tells us about their lives in a small town 3 hours to the south. They're celebrating their first anniversary and a safe return home from a visit to the US. The band was playing in the restaurant where they had dinner, and they liked them so well they hired them to come and play music by the bay, just for them. After a few more songs its time to say goodnight to our new friends and head home.
This is the kind of magic that makes life wonderful. We head back to the boat refreshed and happy and ready for tomorrow.

Splash!

2010-11-04T15:00:00.001-07:00

We put the boat back in the water today after completing the re-commissioning tasks outlined in the previous post. The engine started on the first compression stroke, and best of all, the boat still floats! There is a tiny leak above one of the new seacocks we installed, but not enough to worry about at this point; we're keeping the valve closed for now anyway. We still have a lot to do before we're ready to put to sea, and we'll likely be in San Carlos for another week or so. But its really nice here so we don't mind. We're seeing a lot of cruising friends from last season, and meeting new ones. On Saturday, we'll meet with two couples who have already sailed to the South Pacific; we'll be asking a million questions and buying some of their charts, in preparation for our own passage next spring (if all goes well).

Fitting out for a new cruising season in San Carlos

2010-10-30T17:42:00.000-07:00

We had an easy drive across the border and down to San Carlos on Wednesday. If you listen to Fox News, you probably think that Mexico is one big gun battle. However, its a big country -- most people are unaffected by the war between the government and the narcos. There were plenty of tourists (mostly Canadian snowbirds) at the immigration station. I read somewhere that tourist numbers actually have risen this year, despite all the violence.

The boat had already been moved from the storage area to the work yard by the time we got there. It didn't look too bad - a thick coating of dust on the outside, but perfectly clean on the inside, with no sign of bugs or other pests having gained entry. The batteries still had a good charge and plenty of water, after having been checked only once since May. We did have one major cleanup - a brand new, unopened gallon of Delo 400 motor oil leaked about half of its contents into a locker, and from there into the bilge. We had double-bagged all aerosol containers in a contained space, on advice from other cruisers, but hadn't thought to containerize the oil.

Before launching, we have to replace two thru-hulls that had been removed before storage (check), replace the impeller in the raw water pump (check), re-install all of the running rigging (check), install a new steaming light, put up the bimini, dodger, and sails, install new zincs, paint the bottom with antifouling, and wax the topsides.

A few of the replacement parts I brought down turned out to be the wrong size. What do they say - measure twice and cut once? Oh well, at some point you have to improvise, and we are in Mexico, the land of master improvisers. They look at my old parts, and chuckle at me for thinking they are no good anymore.

It has been good to see old friends from last year's cruising season. And it feels really good to be back in Mexico - everyone is friendly and laid back, the sun is warm, and the fish tacos are cheap. We can't wait to get back on the water!

Pirates in the family!

2010-10-18T13:36:00.000-07:00

During the time we've been away from the boat, I've been doing some genealogical research. I was pleasantly surprised to find that one of my ancestors is Sir Edward Morgan. Edward was uncle (and father-in-law) to Sir Henry Morgan, the 17th century Welsh privateer. Both Sir Henry and Sir Edward were authentic "Pirates of the Caribbean" and reportedly flew the Jolly Roger during their various exploits. Arrrr!

All or nothing - Port San Luis to Santa Barbara on Bravo

2010-09-21T08:48:00.000-07:00

Despite the high winds when we arrived, Port San Luis soon calmed down and proved to be an excellent and comfortable anchorage. Huge flocks of black storm petrels covered the water, interspersed here and there by sea lions, harbor seals, harbor porpoises. Two humpback whales even made a pass through the harbor!

The weather forecast showed a small craft advisory with winds of 20-25 kt and 6-8 ft seas for the next 3 days, but Bravo is heavily-built and rigged for all conditions, so Adam decided to head out in the morning. We started with partly furled genoa, staysail, and single reefed main; by the time we had come abreast of Pt Sal, we had reduced sail to a triple-reefed main and staysail, and were still making close to 8 kts, beam reaching in 30 kts of wind. Our course took us 10 miles south of Pt Arguello before jibing back towards Pt Conception and the Santa Barbara Channel. Visibility varied from 1/2 mile to 2 miles, and the wind blew cold.
Cindi took the brunt of a couple of cold waves while working at the mast, and we took a bit of spray in the cockpit, but otherwise Bravo kept us dry and comfortable. The seas grew to an estimated 12 feet, the winds built to the mid-30s with several gusts over 40. After we safely jibed over, conditions seemed to abate, and we started to feel relieved that we had seen the worst. By the time we had come abreast of Pt Conception, the fog had cleared, and the sunlight made the wind seem much warmer!
Within 6 or 8 miles of passing Pt Conception, the winds dropped, and kept dropping. We couldn't shake out the reefs quickly enough, and soon we were motoring in 2 kts of wind!
We motored the rest of the way to Santa Barbara, picking up a slip in the marina at around 11pm. A great feeling to have successfully passed around "the Cape Horn of the Pacific" in a full gale in a capable ship!

motorboat ride

2010-09-19T16:50:00.001-07:00

We passed under the Golden Gate about noon on Saturday, and motored down past Monterey and Big Sur during the night. Sunday morning Adam put a fishing line in the water, and had a 20-lb tuna within 10 minutes! We have pulled into Port San Luis for the night. The wind piped up from nearly nothing to nearly 30 as we approached the harbor. The next leg will see us around Pt Conception and into the Santa Barbara Channel. We hope to see the Channel Islands, but it is currently gusting 46 knots at Santa Rosa Island, so we may give that a miss!

Back on the water!

2010-09-15T21:29:00.000-07:00

Well, season two started earlier than we had hoped. Our friends Adam and Cindi invited us to crew for them from San Francisco down to San Diego. So here we are in Sausalito, hanging out on the good ship Bravo. God it feels good!
Adam and Cindi had to motor most of the way from the Pacific Northwest to here (as we did last year), but we are all hoping for better winds on our way south. Hoping to leave the bay on the Friday morning ebb.

Season 2

2010-08-25T22:24:00.000-07:00

We've been off the boat for 3 months now, enjoying visits with family and friends, scenery that is green instead of brown, and the bounty from Northwest gardens. We've also had a few biking, hiking, and river running adventures; Mark has had the novel experience of working from the office instead of from home. But the time is nearing for our return south to the boat. We'll drive our little pickup truck down, with some new boat gear. There will be more visits with friends and family along the way. We probably won't reach San Carlos until the end of October. It will take a week or so to get the boat sorted out, the bottom painted, and ready to launch. Then we'll head out for a new season of boating. The final destination has not yet been determined, but there is at least some possibility that we will not end up in Mexico. Stay tuned!

Interview with a Cruiser

2010-06-02T14:37:00.000-07:00

For the next few months, we will be on land. While we are far from the boat in a physical sense, our recent sailing experiences are never far from our thoughts.

For those of you who would like to continue "virtual voyaging" while our blog is on hiatus, I highly recommend the Interview with a Cruiser blog, by Livia from the sailing vessel Estrellita 5.10b (a boat name inspired by another activity I once loved - rock climbing).

So far, all of the interviews have been good, but my favorite has been the recent one with Beth Leonard and Evans Starzinger on Hawk. I aspire to be more like them. Their answers to Livia's questions help explain my motivation and goals for cruising.

On the hard

2010-05-12T17:57:00.000-07:00

The time came to pull Southern Cross out of the water and move her to dry storage. Of course, the wind was blowing like stink, so it was a bit nerve-wracking getting the boat out of the slip and maneuvering her to the launch ramp. But that turned out to be the easy part!

To move boats out of the water, Marina Seca uses huge trailers with hydraulic braces positioned via radio control. Something in the trailer malfunctioned as they were attempting to load our boat, and for a time, it looked as if we would be stuck at the ramp. But they were able to fix it, and we soon found ourselves rolling down the road from the harbor to the dry storage area.

We spent another 2 days in the work yard, finishing our de-commissioning projects, which included removal of a couple of thru-hull fittings. We had planned to remove just a single valve fitting, to serve as a drain in case torrential rains filled the boat with water (as happened to a number of boats last season). But our thru-hulls are plastic, and so we decided to pull those too and replace them with more durable bronze ones.

The final move was from the work yard to the storage yard, where Southern Cross was placed between "hurricane posts" (big pipes sunk deeply in the ground) to keep her from being blown over by hurricane-force winds, should they come. We're in the middle of a long line of boats, so we feel like the boat is in a pretty safe place. But with all of the weird weather we've seen this year, we're taking nothing for granted.

We do feel a lot of trust in this facility, and we've really enjoyed our interactions with the people working here.

So that's the end of the voyage for now. We're spending our first night on the hard in a little posada near the marina. Tomorrow we'll head for Guaymas, spend one more night in a motel, and catch an early morning bus for Phoenix.

San Carlos, Sonora

2010-05-10T07:47:00.001-07:00

We had been dreading our last stop of the trip, knowing how much work it would be to decommission Southern Cross and put her in dry storage. We allowed ourselves 4 full days to prepare the boat for haulout, so we could think through every step and wouldn't feel rushed.
We have been surprised at how nice San Carlos is! The marina is situated in a beautiful bay, surrounded by colorful mountains. The area reminds us a bit of Sedona, AZ. The marina and dry storage staff have been helpful, and we have met a lot of friendly boaters. Local vendors have come by every day offering lobster, scallops, fresh orange juice and produce, so we are really eating well!
The work has gone smoothly: stripping sails, lines, canvas and other items from above decks, rinsing it, and stowing it below; cleaning every locker and sprinkling in boric acid to discourage insects; flushing tanks, changing engine oil, topping off battery water, the list is pretty long. The marina staff have helpfully posted a checklist.
Later today we haul the boat out, and move ashore for the first time since last October. You might think we would be eager to move into more spacious quarters, but actually we are kinda sad at the prospect. Our boat has been a comfortable home, and we will really miss her!

Looking back, looking forward

2010-05-05T06:30:00.000-07:00

(thanks to David Simone for this professional-quality photo)

Sitting here in the marina in Santa Rosalía for the past few days, we have been busily preparing our boat to be hauled out for hurricane season. We've cleaned and repaired things we won't be using until next fall, and separated out things we want to take home, and things we don't want to keep. Some we'll give to locals, some we'll try to sell to other cruisers (and then give to locals if we don't sell them).

LOOKING BACK

We've also had time to reflect on the past 9 months of cruising. What a great ride it's been! The biggest success is being able to live together 24/7 in such a small space. That would be a non-starter for many! While we don't always get along, we have done great overall.

Southern Cross has also done well, with very few breakages or failures. It has been a comfortable home, and fun to sail. We often see other boats that we think we would like better, but every boat has its trade-offs. For us, the biggest consideration is the high cost of changing boats, in terms of selling this one, seeking a new one, outfitting it, and learning how to operate and maintain it properly. Unless we decide to cruise full-time (or someone offers us a lot of money), we will probably keep this boat for the foreseeable future.

Although the destination was Mexico, we enjoyed the voyage down the OR and CA coasts just as much, and sometimes more. We are very glad we got to explore so many places along the way, and wish it wasn't so hard to get the boat back to Oregon, because we would love to start over and visit them all again.

Mexico has been a much, much better destination than we had thought. We never believed any of the sensational negative press in the US (my mother keeps asking if we have seen any pirates), because we have traveled here before. Still, we have been blown away by the generosity and warmth of the Mexican people. Talk about "family values": in Mexico people spend most of their time and energy on the other people in their lives, not on accumulating an endless string of possessions. And gringos are welcomed into the fold to whatever degree you want to participate. You don't need to speak fluent Spanish; most Mexicans are delighted by any effort you make.

Several things have improved here dramatically in the past few years: hygiene, telecommunications, and availability of consumer goods. Neither of us has been sick this year (knock wood); we can easily get email, manage finances, and telephone loved ones; and there are very few things that we can't find in stores down here.

We have made a lot of new friends among the cruising community. We have met people who are very different from us, who we probably never would have met on land. We have learned a lot from them, and we have enjoyed sharing experiences in the water and on the shore. We have tried to help others when we can, and we have received a lot of help ourselves. As with many activities, there is a strong sense of community among cruisers.

LOOKING FORWARD

We are very much looking forward to seeing friends, family, and home. We both feel that, so far at least, we don't want to be full-time cruisers. We still have too many roots connecting us to Oregon.

We want to resume sailing life sometime next fall. Since we are leaving the boat in Mexico, we will be spending at least part of next season here. There is plenty more to see, and many cruisers never get beyond Mexico. We have discussed at length the advantages of retiring here, including excellent and inexpensive medical care. But (most of the time) we think we want to move on and explore other places. After all, that's what drew us to sailing in the first place: seeing new places, having new experiences. And unlike many cruisers, we are already familiar with Mexico from earlier travels here.

The more difficult decision is where to go. For my part, I have always been most drawn to the South Pacific, and to a lesser extent, Southeast Asia. We met many cruisers this past year who have already crossed to the Marquesas. But we both have questions about that route: is the boat good enough? Are we good enough? Will we enjoy being on the boat for long passages? How much will it cost? How long will we be gone? How will we get the boat back? In many ways, a Pacific crossing requires much more preparation and commitment than the coastal cruising we have done so far.

Vicki is more interested in going through the Panama Canal and entering the Caribbean. We know, from dive trips, sea kayak voyages, and sailing trips on our friends' boat, that the snorkeling and diving is better than here, and tradewinds make for more reliable sailing. Also, there are places to leave the boat, and we can return home almost as cheaply as from Mexico. But the Caribbean is way more crowded, and way more expensive. Plus, we have been there a lot, so it will not seem like a new experience. But we do like the idea of eventually heading up the eastern coast of the US and Canada, which would be mostly new to us.

So we still don't really know where we'll go from here. But we do hope to continue the voyage!

Now is all the time we own
For no one has the power
To know when their clock of life will stop
At late or early hour
The future is just a dream of hope
The past a distant link
Go cruising now, my brother
It's later than you think
(found at the San Juanico "Cruiser's Shrine")

Santa Rosalía

2010-05-01T11:52:00.000-07:00

We had a nice sail north from Bahia Concepcíon, and stopped for the night at Punta Chivato. There is a nice shell beach, and a beautiful hotel where we stopped for a beer after our beach walk. Unfortunately, we didn't get any pictures. There was a lot of wraparound swell from the easterly wind, and it was a pretty rough anchorage until bedtime.

We are now buddy-boating with two boats: Windward, a Norseman 447, and Ithaki, an Island Packet 50.
.
Winds were favorable as we left the next morning; in fact, this was the only time on the whole trip where I sailed onto the anchor, and off again, without starting the engine.

We flew the spinnaker for awhile, but unfortunately the wind died and we were soon motoring into the Craig Channel, between the Baja peninsula and Isla San Marcos far behind our two larger buddy boats. Anastasia (on Ithaki) radioed that wind had jumped from 5 to 20 knots as soon as they cleared the island. Assuming it might build even higher, we dropped the main, and fell even further behind the larger boats, both of whom continued to motorsail under reefed mains. The wind never got above 30, and soon we were tied up at the Singlar (government-run) marina in the small harbor at Santa Rosalía. We were surprised to find ourselves moored next to Cetus, whom we had not seen since last August in Fort Bragg.

Santa Rosalía will be our last stop before crossing the Sea to the mainland and putting the boat in dry storage at San Carlos over the summer hurricane season.

Its an interesting place to spend a few days. There is an old, disused copper mine and smelter,

a unique, prefabricated metal church reputedly designed by Gustave Eiffel,

and a number of other reminders of the French mining company that built much of the town.

This last picture has nothing to do with Santa Rosalía; you can find it just about anywhere down here. This is a typical Mexican speed bump, or "tope." Very effective at slowing down cars and making it easier for us pedestrians to cross the street!

Mulegé

2010-04-27T20:16:00.000-07:00

From Punto Pulpito, we got an early start on our 45-mile trip to Santispac, in Bahia Concepción. We did get to sail for a couple of hours along the way, but mostly it was a motorboat ride. Santispac was kind of a letdown after the last few anchorages which were so isolated and beautiful. There is a road running along the bay, and while traffic is not heavy, the semi trucks use their "jake brakes" coming around the sharp curves, serving as a periodic reminder of the road's presence.

We (the crew of Windward and ourselves) decided to take advantage of the road by hitchhiking into Mulegé, about 15 miles north. I can see the raised eyebrows, as hitchhiking has fallen so far out of favor back in the US. We haven't done it often down here, but in certain areas it has been the only option. Mexicans are very hospitable, and we never wait long for a ride.

Mulegé is a true desert oasis, with a spring-fed river and thick groves of date palms. The downtown looked much as I remembered it from my last time here nearly 30 years ago.

We walked upriver to the 300-year-old mission, which had a nice view of the river valley, and some of the first cardon cactus (similar to saguaro) we had seen in bloom.

We also saw occasional reminders of last year's hurricane, which destroyed a number of homes here.

We wanted to tour the old penitentiary, now a museum, but it was closed for repairs. We contented ourselves with a nice lunch, and hitched our way back to Santispac, this time with a retired American couple who live here (and lost their previous home in the hurricane).

Punto Pulpito

2010-04-26T14:38:00.000-07:00

From San Juanico, we had a short sail to our next anchorage, only 8 miles north. Punto Pulpito is a distinctive landmark visible for many miles.

We enjoyed hiking ashore, dinghying around the sea caves and rock formations.

We also took turns standing on a rock pinnacle a couple of hundred yards offshore, just for fun!

San Juanico

2010-04-25T14:03:00.000-07:00

Had a nice sail most of the way from the Coronados. Strange to come here - I kayak-camped here over 30 years ago, then returned 3 years ago on a friend's boat. Its still a beautiful spot, although development is creeping in, as in most of the Baja coast we've seen so far. There is some great hiking along the beaches and in the surrounding hills.

There were nearly a dozen boats here, including Speck, a Montgomery 23 with Gary and Beth from Eugene. Sure enough, it turned out we have friends in common. All of the sailors got together at a potluck and bonfire on the beach the night after we arrived.

We had one task here, to leave a memento at the "cruiser shrine" (a small tree decorated with boat names and memorabilia). Our friend Jon passed away on his boat 3 years ago. This would have been his next anchorage. He's still sailing in our memories.

Islas Coronados

2010-04-22T18:33:00.000-07:00

We had a wonderful sail from Painted Cliffs, around the north side of Isla Carmen, and over to Isla Coronados, along with our buds Dennis and Lisette on Windward.

We have spent nearly a week at this wonderful spot, partly because of its numerous attractions, and partly because it is in Internet range, only 6 miles from Loreto.

This allowed us to stay in touch with Mark's family during his mom's surgery for breast cancer. She is doing well and has already been released, so we will probably resume our northward trip tomorrow.

The marine wildlife here has been spectacular: humpback whales breaching, manta rays leaping, flocks of grebes fishing, etc.

We hiked up the cinder cone for a great view of the island.

The beachwalking was excellent! However, the snorkeling was a bit nippy. Water temp is still only about 70F here.

Vicki organized a potluck on the beach one night. We had a good time with the crews of Topaz, Sea Change, Windward, Rutea, and (one of my favorite boat names) Tequila Mockingbird.

Painted Cliffs

2010-04-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

From Puerto Ballandra, we motored around the north end of Isla Carmen to hook up with our friends Dennis and Lisette on Windward. We found them in a lovely and isolated anchorage called "Painted Cliffs". Luckily Dennis warned us over the radio of some dangerously shallow rocks to avoid. In the picture, Mark has snorkeled over to one of the rocks and is standing only about knee-deep in the water!

Other than the hazardous rocks, it was a beautiful anchorage, with dolphins swimming right around the boats and plentiful fish life. Vicki and I even saw some female dorados while snorkeling in the cove - a highly unusual sighting of these beautiful pelagic fish!

Vicki and I did a long and arduous hike up to a nearby ridge, in hopes of seeing the mountain sheep that live here. We saw plenty of sign and followed some nice sheep trails, but never did see or even hear the sheep.

We capped a long day with dinner in the cockpit. This is some of the nicest weather we have had on the entire trip.