Sunday, January 27, 2008

January 27th – Bahia Navidad – Jim’s Blog #19

We are still in the lagoon at Bahia Navidad, and enjoying the flat water and lack of the rocking motion we get in a bay. However, it is a full moon right now and we learned that this signals a feeding frenzy in the lagoon. This feeding frenzy is not what you think – it is caused by a dozen panga drivers with throw nets who come roaring into the lagoon just at dawn and start casting about for bait fish. Since fish tend to gather under boats or other floating objects, the panga drivers come so close they can practically see through the portholes, and cast their nets adjacent to the boat. These are the nets with weights all around that the fishermen cast in as perfect a circle as they can make, causing the fish to swim away from the splash, and then capturing the ones who swam under the net rather than those who elected to swim in the other direction. They have a line on the underside of the net attached to the opposite side, which they pull in when the net has had a chance to settle over the fish, and this rolls the fish right into the net. When they have the bait fish they need for going after marlin, dorado, and tuna, they speed back through the lagoon to get to the fishing boats.

This means that we are usually awakened at dawn with a violent rocking of the boat as the panga drivers come into the lagoon. Then we can hear them giving one another directions as they maneuver around our boats, and then we get the violent rocking motion again as each one departs. With at least a dozen pangas participating in this “full moon” event, we usually just sit up in bed and read from 5AM to 7AM, at which time they finally depart. Then we grab a few more minutes of sleep until the Amigo Net comes on at 8AM, and are usually finished with our first cup of coffee for the morning when the local net comes on in Barra de Navidad at 9AM.

I have been asked what a “net” is all about; so those who already know can skip this part. There are wide area nets (such as the Amigo Net) and usually a local net at the major ports. The Amigo Net is an HF (High Frequency) net that is conducted by cruisers on the West Coast of Mexico. Since HF radio signals can travel a long distance, it is listened to all along the coast. The Amigo Net is a communication method for helping one another out, making sure that emergencies are handled, and passing status and weather to one another. It is conducted by a “net controller” who is someone who volunteers to control the communication process, say one day a week, and other cruisers take responsibility for one of the other days of the week. This is a very structured process that includes a predefined protocol, both for controlling the net and participating in the net.

For example, all nets usually start out with a call on the frequency announcing the net and making sure that other radiophiles are not already communicating on the network. If they are, they are asked nicely to move on to another frequency, since some dozens of cruisers will be dialing into the frequency from 8AM to 9AM Central time (so it is actually 6AM) in the Pacific Time Zone. The reason for the timing on this is that most cruisers are in the Mountain or Central time zone once they get beyond Cabo San Lucas, and long range communications are improved when the sun comes up; so it is best to hold it during the early daylight where most of the cruisers are located. The next step is to define the rules of the net, which amount to no speaking unless you announce your boat name first and wait to be recognized.

The net follows a common protocol as follows:

1) First there is a call for anyone with emergency or priority traffic, and the controller waits to hear if anyone responds. “Traffic” refers to communications. Usually there is nothing said, but sometimes there is a call to locate a boat that has been missing for awhile. In many cases this is initiated by a frantic family member who expected to hear something from the cruiser at a specific time, but it can also be put out by the coast guard asking for information as the whereabouts of the boat. When this has happened, someone usually speaks up from the boat itself, or from another boat, who announces that the boat in question is anchored next to them.
2) The next call is for cruisers needing assistance of any kind that may not be life-threatening, but could be serious. One cruiser who was on the Baja Ha Ha with us from San Diego to Cabo San Lucas announced that he had a leak in the bottom of his boat that amounted to a gallon an hour, but that he was able to pump the water out and keep going. He was the subject of every day’s net after that until we reached Cabo San Lucas and he could have the boat hauled and repaired.

3) Next is a call for cruisers to check in who are underway from one place to another. It is felt that these cruisers should have priority in case they have limited time to spend on the radio while they are sailing their boat. The check-in follows a fairly strict format as shown below:
Our boat: “Aurora”
Controller: “Aurora, come ahead with your check-in.”
Our Boat:
Identification:
“This is the sailing vessel, Aurora, Whiskey Delta Delta 7480.”
We mention that we are a sailing vessel because there is a motor vessel named Aurora that has been more or less traveling down south with us and several other vessels. Our Marine ID is WDD7480 and it needs to be spoken at the start of every transmission and every 10 minutes, if we continue talking.
Location: “We are departing Barra de Navidad today for Zihuatanejo.”
Personnel: “There are two of us onboard, Jim and Sheilagh”
Weather: “The wind is currently blowing at 15 knots from the Northeast with occasional whitecaps (normal with 15-knot winds) and the swells are approximately 2 feet (that’s the size of the swells from the bottom to the top of a swell and is also consistent with 15 knots of wind).”
This gives other sailors some idea of the actual weather being encountered enroute versus the forecast they will get later in the Amigo Net broadcast.
Traffic: “We have no traffic.”
This means that we have no messages to pass to someone else on the Amigo Net. Naturally, if we had a message for another cruiser we would say we had traffic.
Sign-off: "This is Aurora standing by on the Amigo Net frequency.”

Controller: “Aurora, thank you for your check-in. Does anyone have traffic for Aurora?”
He waits to hear the name of a boat, indicating that it would like to speak with Aurora. If he hears nothing he asks for the next check-in. If a boat calls in, he will answer the boat name and tell them to go ahead with their traffic for Aurora. The other boat will then call, “Aurora, Aurora, Aurora, this is Manana.” It is common protocol to repeat the name of the boat being called three times, and then follow with your own boat name. We will respond and they will either pass a short message or ask us to get on another frequency at a specific time to talk more at length.

That’s enough on communications for this blog. I’ll go into the local communications net on a subsequent blog. I don’t want to make these blogs sound too much like a training course for cruisers.

We are heading out today from Barra de Navidad to Zihuatanejo and will be setting sail just before dusk. The reason for out late start is that the trip will take about 36 hours (at least two nights) and we want to time it so we will get there in the morning. If we left in the morning here, we would be getting there after dark, and it is dangerous to be entering a new port at night. We usually like to take day trips and stay at intermediate locations overnight, but there is only one good port about 4 hours south (we covered that in an earlier blog when we went to Bahia Manzanillo last week to mail a package), and then there is nothing for the next 180 miles.

This is a good time to go because the weather is stable, although there is little real wind this time of year on the Mexican Riviera (which is why people want to vacation here); so we may be motoring quite a bit. There is a short sentence in the cruising guide for this leg of the trip that says “drug smugglers also ply these waters, so some yatistas [that’s us] opt to buddy boat between Manzanillo and Ixtapa.” It turns out that there is a fairly large celebration in Zihuatanejo in a few days, and there are several cruisers who will be making the trip in the same time frame for this event – making it a bit safer than if we were to go alone. Before we leave, here are a couple of shots of the lagoon at Barra de Navidad – a very large lagoon as you can see.





Upper left: the large hotel and the entrance – at the right: the opposite view with a few of the 35 boats anchored here

Friday we checked out with the Port Captain, letting him know we were going next to Zihuatanejo on Sunday (today). This is a fairly loose check-in process, but we don’t dare show up at the Port Captain in Zihuatanejo without having checked out with this one. Most of us don’t believe that the Mexican port authority could really locate anyone in an emergency, but they do make out duplicate copies of our check-in and check-out, stamp both sets, and give us a stamped copy, keeping one for their files. I would be very surprised if someone enters the information from the form into a centralized computer system that would let someone enter our boat name and know where we had last checked in. So why do they require the paperwork? I think they want to keep folks employed as much as possible. I have yet to see any port official go through a marina or an anchorage to see what boats were there and make sure they have all checked in. Only the marina staff does that to insure they are being paid for the dock space. In some of the larger ports, the marina manager actually reports our arrivals and departures to the port captain in lieu of our having to do so.

Friday night we got together with a number of other cruisers in a deserted palapa next to a dilapidated dock next to the golf course. Everyone brought “finger food” and their own drinks, and we shared boat cards and experiences for a couple of hours. It’s nice to put the faces of the cruisers to their boat name and get to know a bit about them. One of the boat names is AirOps, which is a term associated with carrier landings, and it turns out the owner was an A7 pilot whose last command was handling the Air Operations on the Kitty Hawk. We talked about naval aviation, the navy, and even some glider flying in the course of our discussion. We had both been through survival and POW training, along with Vietnam duty, so we had a lot to talk about. Another cruiser had been living near Lake of the Pines for the past few years, not more than a few stones’ throw from where we lived for the past seven years. It was very enjoyable to learn why different cruisers were living aboard their boats and seeing the world from that vantage point. Some are only interested in cruising up and down Mexico, others are planning to go through the Panama Canal and into the Gulf of Mexico, and several of us are planning to set sail from Zihuatanejo for the South Pacific.

Sheilagh and I are thinking very seriously of going to the South Pacific in March or April – the best time to make the trip across the Pacific. There will be a meeting of cruisers in Zihuatanejo on February 5th who are interested in going across the Pacific, where we can share information. The sailing magazine, Latitude 38, sponsors the meeting in Zihuatanejo and in Puerto Vallarta, so they can collect people’s backgrounds and have a future source for articles in their magazine. Apparently the Marquesan Tourist Bureau will be sending representatives to the meeting to answer our questions and invite us to come spend our money there. This annual migration of cruisers from the West Coast to the South Pacific has been labeled the “Pacific Puddle Jump,” apparently to play down the enormity of the undertaking. The presence of a number of other boats who will be making the trip at the same time should provide more safety in numbers. We’ll let you know what we learn in a later blog.

This morning I noticed that the dinghy needed a lot of air in the right side; so I took a look with another cruiser who had come alongside to say goodby, and we discovered a leak under water. Sheilagh and I immediately hoisted it up onto our boat, turned it over, and used soapy water in a spray bottle to find the source of the leak. We used the mixture on the rest of the bottom of the boat and found nothing else. The patching takes about 30 – 45 minutes, most of the time taken to let the glue dry on the patch and the boat before applying the patch to the boat. There always seems to be something to do! Here’s a picture of our dinghy, which we covered with green hand prints to discourage those who might want to take it. How do you conceal a stolen life raft that looks like this?











Our dinghy on the beach at Manzanilla in Bahia Tenacatita

More later . . .

Friday, January 25, 2008

Sheilagh's Two Cents

Jim's blogs are keeping track for us and our family and friends of where we are and what we're doing. I'm so glad because I forget (or don't need to know) what day it is!

I'm putting fingers to keyboard because I want to be able to put myself back into some of the smaller moments that flavor this trip for me.

This mornings' inspiration comes from a tiny crab slipping sideways under water--he's traveling along the submerged dinghy rope for some crabish reason. Our mornings start with the local fishermen swarming into this lagoon for netting bait fish. They come in in pangas, about 3 to a boat and the lead/forward man arranges the net over his shoulder, continually straightening and sorting the lead weights that pull on the edges until the men spot a pelican or other fishing bird make a kill. Then they power the boat over to that spot and the net man flings out his net in an almost perfect circle and he pulls in the haul. The boats wind around the lagoon amongst the yachts for about an hour and then are gone. Later today there will be smaller skiffs with lone fisherment either net fishing or overseeing a partner with flippers and mask. A plastic coke or milk bottle marks the diver down and the swimmer hands over oysters into the boat as he gets a new breath of air. Less sophisticated, but apparently successful, fishermen use coke bottles with the line wound around the middle--they grab the neck of the bottle to fling out the hook and weight then turn it sideways again to wind in their catch. People make use of everything!

Later in the day the pelicans get busy. During low tide they hang out on the mud flats, the fisherman's shack (and I DO mean shack) that sits on stilts, and various poles that stick out of the mud. They're experts at spotting fish-cleaning operations and jockey for position to catch the skin, bones and guts that the fishermen throw over as they prepare their catch. When the pelicans are not hanging around for a free meal, they cruise on the updrafts to spot fish. When they spot something they shift, lock on their target, compact them selves and dive. Last thing that fish ever knows! I don't know what a pelican weighs but they make a tremendous, noisy and wet cannonball splash--they've jarred me out of a quiet read many a time!

I've caught 2 fish with, I'm sure, more effort than those pelicans! We have a setup for dragging a line off the back of the boat. Each time that I've fed out the line with its bright yellow lure and hook I've giggled at my resemblence to Napolean (Dynamite) trailing his super-hero doll out the back of the school bus (you'd have to have seen the movie to get the reference!).

Both fish were tuna, maybe 10 lbs., I'd guess. I read a lot about proccessing (i.e. killing, pithing, bleeding, gutting and filleting) before I started on the first one and it was as messy as it sounds and very time-consuming by the time I cleaned it all up. I hung around some local guys at one small anchorage and learned a lot aboaut how they do it all--it cut the time and mess in 1/2 and I'm encouraged (and I pour vodka into the gills to make it at least look less painful to kill them). Then the cooking part (no, we don't like sushi too much). I'd rather cows could be caught off the back of a boat (probably make that processing a proportionately bigger nightmare!). A couple who know a lot about a lot stopped by for a visit the day after we caught the last tuna and stayed to show me how to prepare a really good-tasting fillet--their pay was getting to eat 1/2 of it!
The second, less-messy tuna along with the fishing line in my left hand
and my pre-haircut

So now I have to go back and finish reading my book so we can bring it to do trades at a pot luck this evening. Work, work, work!

Thursday, January 24, 2008

January 23th – Bahia Manzanillo – Jim’s Blog #18

On Monday we decided to sail down to Bahia Manzanillo, which was the closest place to ship our malfunctioning autopilot back to the factory for repair. I probably mentioned it before, but we have an electronic autopilot that is supposed to keep us on course automatically when we are motoring, as opposed to sailing. When the wind is blowing, we can sail and make use of our Monitor Wind Vane to guide the boat. This lets us motor or sail without having to have our hands on the wheel. However, the electronic autopilot hasn’t been working since we left San Diego in October, and we have had to motor a lot due to lack of winds. So, at the end of a cruise from one port to the next, we are often worn out with having had to hand steer the boat the entire way. We have done everything we can to troubleshoot the autopilot and fix what we can fix – to no avail. So the factory has asked us to send all the components back for repair.

We had to motor all the way down, due to the lack of wind, but about two hours into the four-hour trip I suddenly sighted a large black column emerging from the water not 50’ from the boat on the left side, and then it plopped over on its side making a large whomping sound and producing a cascade of water. It was a full grown whale, and it repeated the same jump six times in a row. We finally got the camera out and focused to catch the 5th and 6th leap, but later found that we had recorded nothing. After the 6 jumps, the whale did two rolling jumps, landing on its back behind us. We didn’t see anything for awhile, and then we noticed two whales playing together instead of the one. We assume now that the male was showing off for the female, which he had spotted (or heard) and his masterly jumping caused her to be swept off her flukes.

We arrived in Bahia Manzanillo and noticed three very dirty smokestacks near the town of Manzanillo pouring smog into the air south of the bay. There were also some large freighters in the bay either waiting to be loaded or unloaded. The port of Manzanillo was described in the cruisers’ guides as not being friendly to cruisers because of the heavy industry in the port. Instead we motored into a small anchorage in front of the Las Hadas Resort & Marina. Naturally, just as we were coming in to anchor, the wind picked up – the one we could have used all the way down from Bahia Navidad – where it continued to rock and roll us all night. After anchoring we grabbed a couple of beers to settle us down from the anxiety of anchoring in a new location among several previously anchored boats, and to give us time to observe that the anchor had truly grabbed the bottom.


Las Hadas Resort on the lower left and some high end homes next to the resort on the upper right

The anxiety is caused by not knowing the depth until we actually get there or the quality of the bottom that will determine how well our anchor will set, along with the number and positions of the other boats in the anchorage and the length of chain or rope they are using to keep the anchor from pulling out. Naturally we don’t want to trespass on someone else’s territory. Since the wind and the tide change continuously, the boats at anchor can swing around at least 360 degrees, and often do. So it is necessary to position one’s anchor in a way that will cause the boat to lie in position with the other boats; so all the boats will swing in arcs that don’t intersect. If we anchor in 20’ of water and put out 100’ of chain ( a rode of 5:1) with our anchor, we could easily swing into a boat whose anchor was put out earlier just 40 feet from ours (something we can’t see) in 30 feet of water, but who has a rode of 150’ (a rode of 5:1 for him).

Okay, you’re not math majors, so just take it from me that we try our best to place our anchor where we will be equidistant from the other boats that are nearby with sufficient room to keep them happy. We have learned from past experience that, if a boat owner of a nearby anchored boat comes on deck to observe our anchoring process, we are probably too close to his boat and he will call us on the radio and object to our location. We often move to a position slightly behind and between two other boats to drop the anchor and then allow the boat to drift back into position that will work for all of us. In this case there was a very large motor yacht with a lot of freeboard (area above the surface of the water) that was fishtailing in the wind fairly close to where we ended up after putting out 120’ of chain. When we first determined the proper position for our boat, that yacht was fishtailing away from everyone, but by the time we got settled and dug in, it was fishtailing back towards us.

We were on the point of pulling up our chain and moving when the owners returned to the boat, pulled up their anchor, and took off. As they pulled up their anchor they had to get very close to another boat in the anchorage in order to position their boat directly over their anchor to disengage it from the sand. It appeared that they had anchored with a very long length of chain and rope; so that the sailboat that came in later and positioned itself in front of the motor yacht was sitting almost exactly on top of the motor yacht’s anchor. The driver of the yacht was definitely an expert (could have been a paid skipper), and handled the situation very smoothly. Sheilagh and I were both very glad that the motor yacht decided to leave.

We jumped in out dinghy at that point, and motored into the marina’s dinghy dock to check out the situation. The cruisers’ guides indicate that we are able to enjoy the hospitality of the hotel, including the multiple swimming pools, lounge chairs, and drink service. We found that the internet costs were quite high, but we didn’t have much choice. As we toured the grounds we grabbed a couple of lounge chairs next to the pool, and ordered up a couple of Margaritas. The waiter saw that we didn’t have the customary colored band circling our wrists, indicating that we were guests of the hotel; so he asked how we planned to pay. We brought out cash, and that was acceptable. At a previous hotel, where the guests wear the wristbands, cruisers are denied service, because the waiters are not allowed to collect money, only charges to the room. Incidentally we have noticed at many larger stores that those who wait on you are not allowed to collect your money; so the salesperson writes up a ticket for you, and you have to go to a window to pay.

After one Margarita apiece at poolside we were brought a bill for 140 pesos ($14), which did not reflect the normal prices we have been used to in Mexico. We failed to heed the warning and decided that we were too tired to cook onboard that night; so we decided to take in the buffet at the hotel. How expensive can a buffet be? Ours was $30 apiece, and that was with water, not wine, with the meal. We did eat very well, but we definitely busted the budget that day. It is said that you can live on very little in Mexico, but that means cooking your own food or eating at local Mexican restaurants, not at exclusive resorts. Three ladies at another table came over after their meal and asked if we were on one of the sailboats in the harbor – I guess we didn’t look like high-rollers in our cruisers’ garb of shorts and colored T-shirt (for me) and a top (for Sheilagh). They were from Canada, and were very happy to be away from the cold for a week or two. We talked a bit and then they asked us how to wish someone well on a sailboat. We said, “may you have fair winds and following seas,” and they repeated that to us before they departed.

On Tuesday morning we took our dinghy into the marina set out with the five components of the autopilot in our knapsack and caught a bus for Las Brisas – the closest DHL shipping point in the region. We got excellent service at DHL, including having them box the components with their own box and bubble-wrap, and got it sent off for a mere 790 pesos (approximately $79). Then we stopped by the Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet across from Wal-Mart and enjoyed one of our favorite fast foods. The taste of the chicken, with the same eleven herbs and spices we had grown to know and love, was pretty close to the U.S. product, but the mashed potatoes and gravy and the coleslaw were a unique experience that we will probably not repeat.

Afterward we dodged traffic to get back across the street to Wal-Mart, where we loaded up on essential foods, including a brand of tequila that had been recommended. We also got a bathmat to replace the one that must have flipped over the side of the boat as we were drying it on the safety lines that surround the boat awhile back. We often leave things hanging on the lifelines in the morning when the wind is light and return to find the winds blowing strongly in the afternoon. We have now taken to using clothespins when we leave clothing on the lines.

A short cab ride got us back to the Las Hadas Resort, where we occasioned a certain amount of discussion among the cognoscenti as to why two less-than-well-dressed people without wrist bands were walking through the pool area carrying two backpacks and six bags of groceries. We proceeded to the dinghy that was tied up at the dinghy dock in the marina, loaded everything aboard, scooted out to the boat, and then uploaded everything onto the boat, as the dinghy was bobbing alongside – all in full view of the vacationers who were lounging on the beach. We’re not sure what the guests thought, but apparently cruisers are a common sight here for the hotel personnel.

We thought we might take a bus back to Barra de Navidad to pick up our mail and check out with the port captain, rather than sail (or motor) the four hours back up the coast. However, we found that our mail was going to be delayed several days at Barra; so we opted to unload the dinghy of its contents, hoist it back aboard, and prepare to sail back to the lagoon on the following day. That night we had strong winds that kept us rocking and rolling in the anchorage, and introduced the snapping of the flags we carry – the Stars and Stripes on the stern and the Mexican courtesy flag on the right spreader. The snapping of the flags in a strong wind can sound like small arms fire from a distance. Needless to say we didn’t sleep well that night and were only too happy to be underway today.

We did not see our lovesick whale on the way back to Bahia Navidad, but we were able to motor-sail back north to save some fuel. Motor sailing involves using sails in a light breeze that isn’t strong enough to support sailing by itself. So we use the engine with fewer RPMs to get the same speed that we would have in a strong wind without the engine or with 2000 RPM without any wind. We were happy to be back in a flat lagoon, and immediately took the dinghy into the Sands Hotel for a couple of cervezas at poolside (in this case only $1.25 apiece). Our last task at the end of the day was to give Sheilagh a new haircut that I think looks very cute. See if you don’t agree. Sheilagh and I may need to open a hair salon for cruisers, but maybe we should wait until we hear more than our own comments on the hairdo.













Sheilagh reading Jimmy Buffet in the hanging chair in the cockpit – two views of the new hairdo



More later . . .

January 20th – Bahia Navidad – Jim’s Blog #17

We are still in the lagoon at Bahia Navidad, but have taken excursions into a town further north along the beach, Melaque. The bus offered the usual hard-plastic seats with minimal suspension that wound its way down a variety of dusty dirt streets before depositing us at the town square. This town had a vast beach to offer vacationers, a store that was a cut above the small tiendas in Barra, and more restaurants to choose from. We smelled some curry coming from one of the restaurants and seized the chance to eat some non-Mexican food. This restaurant turned out to be owned by an English-speaking expat with excellent food, English magazines to read, and a lending library (if you leave a book you can take one). Sheilagh had the Thai salad and I had the chicken curry – a great treat when most of the palapas serve nothing but Mexican dishes.

We also took the opportunity to visit the surfing beach we had seen as we were coming into the harbor. The waves came straight into the beach with a riptide going right back out that made steep towering waves for an instant and then the in-and-out-going waves would neutralize to flat, and then back up to towering. I fancy myself a good body surfer, but these were not waves that I would try to ride. Apparently no one else thought so either. However, at one end of the beach the waves formed a left break that the board surfers were enjoying. I may have to get a surf board and relearn how to ride a board. The main problem is that it is difficult to find a place to put the board on the boat and not have it block the deck or be a danger in high winds and seas.

The days here have started feeling very tropical – hot and sweat-inducing with little wind to cool things off. We rig our wind scoop in one of the front hatches to get the air circulating, but it flaps uselessly when the wind dies. We have mechanical fans in each of the main cabin areas that run off the 12 volt batteries, and these help quite a bit, although they are a bit noisy. Some sailboats have air-conditioning installed, but most can’t run it unless they are plugged into the AC power of a marina or run their engine or a generator to power it. We don’t have a generator, but we use an inverter that translates DC battery power into AC for run the water heater, the microwave oven, the TV, and to power up the batteries on out laptops. It seems a bit strange to be converting the boat’s battery power to AC power and back to the laptops’ battery power, but it’s convenient.

We need to run the engine about an hour or two a day to keep the refrigerator and freezer cold enough to make ice cubes and keep them from melting. The engine also heats water in the water heater without the use of AC power, and it charges the boat batteries at the same time. We use two solar panels to keep the batteries topped up, and we usually try to use our inverter to generate AC power during the heat of the day, when the solar panels can keep the batteries full. Although we have a very small carbon footprint, we still need the diesel fuel to run the engine to keep everything charged up, since the solar panels can’t do it by themselves.

Why am I going into all this? Sheilagh and I don’t want everyone to think that we do nothing but lie about in paradise sipping Margaritas. We have to have an intimate knowledge of all the systems on the boat – electrical, mechanical, plumbing, communications, engine, etc. And we also have to manage the systems in such a way that we maximize the energy we have available and minimize the impact to our resources. A good example is the subject of communications, which we have been asked about by some of our readers. We have several forms of communications available to us including:

1) a VHF marine radio that allows us to communicate through line-of-sight with other ships and the coastguard (effective range is about 12 miles)
a. we have a control and speaker in the cockpit that allow us to communicate while steering the boat without having to go below,
b. we also have a separate hand-held radio that we can carry with us in the dinghy or in the life raft, if that should happen,

2) a high frequency HAM radio that can be used to communicate around the world with other boats, family at home, weather stations, etc. – we can communicate with voice or email and we can download weather FAXes (the range here depends on atmospheric conditions and time of day or night)

3) a marine single-sideband radio (actually the same radio as the HAM radio) that does much of what the HAM radio does, but it has fewer frequencies available and can be used for commercial purposes such as ordering parts to be sent to various ports (HAM radio does not allow commercial use of the frequencies),

4) a wi-fi antenna to connect with internet servers in some of the ports we enter through our laptops (if the signal is strong enough from the marina or hotel on shore, otherwise we take our laptops ashore and find an internet café),

5) three GPS receivers to give us navigation information – one of these is at the chart table inside and a separate one is mounted in front of the steering wheel in the cockpit (the third one is a hand-held one that we have,

6) underwater sonar and a fish finder to show us the depth of the water, the presence of fish (and at what depth they are), and the composition of the bottom,

7) an AM/FM radio with a CD changer to provide entertainment (the radio we use very little, but we keep the CD changer filled with 6 CDs and play them until we get tired of those six and then change them – incidentally the AM/FM radio has speakers in the cockpit so we can hear music underway),

8) a TV that we seldom use,

9) a flat screen display where we show DVD movies through our laptops,

10) an EPIRB (Emergency Position Information Radio Beacon) that we would activate if we need to be rescued – this has a built-in GPS that would send our boat information and position to a satellite for use by the Coast Guard and other boats that might be in our vicinity.

It’s great to have all of these means of communications, but we have to know how to use each of them (okay the TV is not that difficult to learn) and we had to get HAM radio training and get our HAM licenses to be able to use that means of communication. Naturally there are radio courtesies that have to be learned and used, although I’m not sure where some folks have learned theirs. As a pilot, I was trained to use the radios with a minimum of talk and only when necessary. That does not seem to be the case with many cruisers, who feel the need to hold conversations of long duration if they get through to someone. Thankfully, most of them agree to use a different channel than the main contact frequency; so they switch to a new frequency and talk without bothering anyone.

Since everyone can hear when two boats plan to switch channels to talk about something, any of us can switch to that same frequency and listen in. At times someone will ask a recognized expert to switch channels to discuss a topic, and several of us will listen in to learn something. In this case there is a strong temptation to insert oneself in the conversation, if one has a question on that topic that isn’t being answered. At first I used to wait for the conversation to end, listen for them to switch back to the main hailing channel, and then I’d ask the expert to go back to another frequency to ask my question. Since then I have learned that everyone expects that others will be listening in; so it is really no problem to introduce oneself into the original conversation and ask a question to “the group.”

This ability to listen in to other people’s discussions must be similar to the old party lines on the early telephones. You can listen in for valuable information as described above, or you may learn that you are not invited to someone else’s dinner party; so there are drawbacks to this form of party-line communication. Once Sheilagh mentioned to some other cruisers that she was sorely tempted to listen in to other conversations at times, and they all wondered why she didn’t. Apparently snooping is alive and well on the cruisers’ net. At another time I’ll go into the “cruisers’ net” and explain what we do on the radios to stay in contact and help one another with emergencies. That’s all for now, more later . . .

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

January 16th – Bahia Navidad – Jim’s Blog #16

We were still in Tenacatita on the 13th and took another dinghy trip over to Manzanilla where I was able to load blog #15. However, the internet I was using wouldn’t upload any pictures or film clips. We took a walk through town down to a fenced-in lagoon, where we saw three 8-10’ long crocodiles lying partially submerged in the dark water next to the fence. While we were watching, one of the crocs jerked its head a bit and captured a small fish that must have been swimming by. Either this was one of the stupidest fish in the world, or the crocodiles really do look like logs from underneath. The croc opened its jaws several times to chew on the fish and finally swallowed it down. How many times do you get to see a crocodile feeding? I’m not sure the croc was done feeding, as it appeared to be eyeing a dog that was being held up to the fence by its youthful owner to see the croc. Thank goodness the fence was higher than the kid could reach, as it probably saved the dog’s life.

We had a wet trip back across the bay, but suddenly realized we had become so inured to the potential hazards of boating that we were in the middle of a bay – at least a mile from any shore – and we had not taken life vests with us. Suddenly we sighted a whale not 100 yards from us, and visions of Captain Ahab and Moby Dick came to mind. As we clutched the inflatable dinghy in lieu of life vests, the whale breached and then flipped up its tail in a direction away from us. We quickly made a commitment to carry life vests with us in the future. A simple flick of a whale tail could send our dinghy flying, and who knows what lurks in the minds of whales. They might think they were being friendly, but it wouldn’t help us much if it tried to nuzzle us. We have a little better chance in our 15 ton sailboat of avoiding any amorous whale advances, but you never know.

On Monday we moved the boat to a different anchorage in the same bay; so that we were near the palapa restaurant where another cruiser had invited us for a birthday party for his wife along with about ten other couples. The surf had built up overnight to a level that made for good body surfing, but not good dinghy maneuvering for landing and launching again. We made it in fine, but a cruiser behind us got flipped in the surf and we had to retrieve oars, hats, life jackets, etc. They were so drenched that they insisted on being launched back through the surf to go get some dry clothing. In the course of that process they got thrown around by two additional waves, but made it back out. Later they came into a portion of the beach that was quite a ways away, but that had smaller waves. They also brought a change of clothing in a dry-bag (used by kayakers to keep their belongings dry when they are tipped upside down in white water) just in case they had another accident.

The party was a great success with a rum cake that was more rum than cake, and all the tequila and beer that one could want along with a chicken fajita lunch/dinner. I mentioned the waves were good for body surfing; so I went out after lunch and body-surfed the waves for at least an hour. I kept the swimsuit on and all my belongings in a little package in order to take no chances when we launched the dinghy back to the boat. In this case we put Sheilagh in the dinghy close to shore and I swam the boat out to beyond the surf – after waiting for the calm between wave sets. We ended up having no trouble making it back out, but it does explain why cruisers don’t go into shore for the night life on the beach – it is critical to get back through the surf before dark to have any chance of making it safely back to the boat.

Tuesday, the 15th, we pulled up the anchor and headed for Barra de Navidad, where we are now. It was only a 2-3 hour motoring trip south (no wind). As we approached the entrance to the harbor we saw very large waves crashing into the beach outside the harbor and were glad we were headed into the harbor. The harbor has a lagoon behind it, where some 30 of us are anchored. The challenge here was getting into the lagoon through a narrow channel that has mud and sand bars on each side. Earlier cruisers had checked the depth of the channel and provided four latitude/longitude coordinates a few hundred feet apart that showed the best way to go. All we had to do was select the waypoints on our GPS, one after the other, and follow the electronic arrow into the lagoon. This high-tech equipment is great. Just 30 years ago we would have had to put someone into the dinghy with a lead line (heaving line with a weight on the bottom and markings up the line indicating the various measurements from the weight up) and follow the dinghy in the sailboat to make sure we didn’t run aground. A crew of two, like ours, just wouldn’t have hacked it back then.

Our first night at anchor was wonderful, since it was the first time in two weeks that we had no wave action affecting the boat. The lagoon has perfectly flat water at night, and the pangas and dinghies are usually through for the day by 9PM. Each sailboat in the lagoon sits perfectly upright, and all are pointed into the wind; so the sight is quite majestic. Last night the moon was extremely bright, causing the white decks of the sailboats to practically glow. We all illuminate an anchor light at night, which is a light at the top of the mast which can be seen from all directions to warn other boats that another boat may be in their way as they are passing through. Since the lights from shore are quite a ways off, the stars seem extremely bright overhead, and as one’s gaze drops lower, the anchor lights come into view – looking like large planets in the heavens. You can imagine the sight of some 30 of these lights all shining out, with a mast and sailboat holding them up.

Today we took our dinghy around the anchorage and into town to get the lay of the land. There is a different little town on each side of the harbor entrance, Barra de Navidad on the north and Colimilla on the south side. Barra is in the Mexican state of Jalisco, and Colimilla is in the Mexican state of Colima. The little town of Colimilla is dwarfed by a luxury hotel, the Bahia Grande Hotel, which controls the marina. They have an interesting price structure at the marina - $800 a month or $80 a day. This means you pay a month’s worth of docking there in just 10 days; so it pays to stay for at least a month. Our budget doesn’t call for staying in marinas; so we anchor for free in the lagoon with most of the other cruisers. Those who can afford the marina, or who have relatives staying in the Bahia Grande Hotel, can make use of the swimming pool and the other facilities that abound there. When we learned this, we immediately contacted my sister, Lisa, and her husband, Bob, to see if they were interested in taking a vacation to Mexico – they had indicated an interest in doing something like that earlier. We haven’t heard back yet.

We have joined the other budget cruisers and land on the north side of the harbor in Barra de Navidad at the Sands Hotel, where the hotel is less luxurious, but more welcoming. Our dinghies are protected there and the hotel gets a lot of cruiser business for food and drinks. The town of Barra has a mix of concrete streets, brick streets, cobblestones, and dirt – depending on the location in town. The Malecon is filled with the usual tourist-inspired shops selling all the same serapes, jewelry, slingshots, beaded belts, swimsuits, etc. that we have noticed in every town along the coast. Somewhere in Mexico there must be an army of Mexicans manufacturing this stuff in their homes or factories to sell to the tourists.
Every time we sit down for a couple of tacos or cervezas in a palapa, we are approached by three or four Mexican salespeople carrying cases and display boards adorned with jewelry, or wrapped up in the hammocks or blankets they are selling, or hoisting wood carvings of fish, horses, sailboats, etc. We cruisers don’t have anywhere to put these things, so we usually say, “No, gracias,” and turn away. However, the other day, we needed a present for the birthday party; so we asked to see some necklaces from one of the young ladies carrying a display board filled with them. I was quite impressed with her sales ability.

She first followed Sheilagh’s gaze after sizing up what Sheilagh was wearing, and had her hands on a necklace that seemed to be where Sheilagh was looking. When Sheilagh reached out and touched what she was interested in – a red/orange coral necklace – the girl had it unfastened from the board in a split second and into Sheilagh’s hands. As Sheilagh was looking it over, she also brought out three other necklaces of the same color but different designs. She also suggested some others based on what Sheilagh was wearing at the time; so we explained it was a present for someone else. She quoted a 120 peso price, and we offered 60 pesos as a starting position. She came down to 110 pesos, but we weren’t willing to pay that much. We thanked her and started walking down the beach.

She followed after us and came down to 90 pesos, and then 80 pesos, which we agreed to. Then she brought out another board with earrings fastened to it, and pointed out the ones that would go with the necklace. We finally escaped, only to be approached by another young lady selling salad bowls, cutting boards, serving utensils, etc. – all made out of monkeypod. We were not interested, but our earlier purchase apparently indicated we were fair game. We left her and walked to a nearby palapa for a cerveza before heading back to the boat. As we sat down, we noticed the first salesgirl talking to the one with the wooden items, and suddenly the latter was back to make sure we hadn’t changed our minds. Our walking away from the first salesgirl and our subsequent purchase was not viewed as a way we had negotiated the price down to what it should have been. No, it was taken as an indication that we were not firm in our resolve not to buy something; so the word was passed that we were “easy” at least that’s what it seemed like.

We now have internet access in the lagoon. A former cruiser decided to settle down in Colimilla within sight of the lagoon and began working with the local school to furnish computers. He realized there was an untapped need for internet for cruisers in the lagoon; so he bought a server and charges $30 a month for access. The $30 is used for buying computers for the school; so everyone benefits. We had to visit him at his home to sign up and were blown away with the grandeur of the house and the garden in the back – something we could probably afford if we sold our condo in San Diego. We noticed that there were no doorknobs on the outside of the main doors in the nicer homes; so they have to be unlocked by someone inside or with a key in a dead bolt. There must be an 8-10’ adobe fence entirely surrounding the compound, and we noticed a maid and a gardener while we were there. Although it was quite beautiful, one couldn’t help but notice the squalor outside of the compound.

We also learned an interesting fact about building structures in Mexico. We had noticed that most of the buildings – homes and businesses – in Mexico seem to have rebar sticking up through the roof, as if no one has found a way to finish off the house. The owner of the home I just described told us that the buildings are left that way on purpose – as if another story will be added on at any time. The reason for this is that the taxes on completed buildings are quite high, but as long as the building is under construction, the taxes are minimal. Therefore there is every reason to never complete a building – or at least leave it looking as if there is more building to be done. Apparently on some of the better buildings the owners seal the rebar where it sticks out of the roof and even paint it to keep it protected from the elements. Nothing like passing tax laws that keep buildings from ever being completed! There is always a way around every law, I suppose. With that little piece of trivia, I will sign off. More later . . .

Sunday, January 13, 2008

January 12th – Tenacatita – Jim’s Blog #15

Pictures are in!

On January 8th we proceeded further south, buddy-boating with another sailboat, Oasis (which had bypassed Ipala and joined the cruisers in Chamela. This was the same boat where we had celebrated New Year’s Eve). Rich and Debbie are young parents with the two boys, Ryan and Kyle, whom I mentioned in an earlier blog. This was a day with little or no wind; so we ended up motoring all the way.

We first stopped by Careyes, which is a beautiful little bay with gorgeous expensive homes built up on the cliffs and an abandoned hotel on a palm-fringed beach that used to house a Club Med resort. We had to tiptoe our way in very carefully, since there are several spots with rocks just under the surface. The cruising guides give a range mark onshore and a direction of 053° to the marker, which means you are supposed to turn toward the mark when it is 053° from you, and stay on that bearing into shore to miss the submerged rocks. I can tell you that flying such an approach in an airplane is a lot easier than doing it on a sailboat with swells and wind constantly affecting the boat, and a compass that is hardly stable. We made it in, nevertheless, but found several boats already anchored there and no room for us; so we continued on to Tenacatita after grabbing a few snapshots of Careyes so we can say that “we’ve been there, done that.”





Two pictures of the homes at Careyes
Tenacatita is a large bay with three major lobes, each with its own beach. We are in the center lobe, and very well protected along with several other sailboats, some cruising trawlers, and a couple of very large luxury yachts. A self-guided jungle cruise is one of the attractions here; so we arranged to go on it with the two families of young boys that we have gotten to know. I have described the Oasis family in the previous blog. The second family has three sons on a ketch (two-masted sailboat) that is called Ketchin’ Up. Knoll and Ashley are another young couple who interrupted their careers at Intel for a two-year cruise with their three sons Griffin, Wils, and Cooper (ages 10 through about 6). These two cruisers had a friend die at a young age and began to realize that it was more important to spend time with their boys at this stage than continue in the high stress work they were doing. They sold off their home in Oregon and are using this trip to relocate the family to the East Coast by way of cruising down the Eastern Pacific, through the Panama Canal, and back up through the Gulf of Mexico and the Carribean.

The start of the “jungle cruise” is a river that exits into the bay here in this center lobe and originates behind the beach in the lobe of the bay to the West of us. Between the two points is a meandering river that starts out fairly wide at the mouth and is narrowed by mangrove trees to a fairly narrow tunnel before reaching the source. The trick is to start out at high tide (or just before), to let the tide carry the dinghies upstream for quite a bit. Then the second trick is to come back as the tide is going out, so the river can carry you back out into the bay.
We all had dinghies and threaded our way up the river over about an hour and a half to the source. We saw a lot of birds, a few crabs on the mangrove roots, some termite clusters up in the trees, and a tiny 18-inch crocodile at the very end of the trip on the beach – a kind of pet. The parents of the boys used the time to talk about jungles, birds, exploring, etc., while Sheilagh and I just enjoyed the relative quiet of the jungle itself. The river has its source in a spring that is just behind the westernmost beach, so we landed our dinghies and walked down to the beach for lunch and swimming.

The start of the jungle trip and one of the tour guides taking life easy
On the way back the current was with us, so we shut down the engines and used the oars to row and pole ourselves through the narrow channel and the dense growth all around. It worked fairly well until one of the pangas from the local hotel would come through and force us all to grab the mangrove roots at the side of the channel until they could pass. The real excitement was the end of the trip, when the river was flowing more swiftly and emptying into the bay over the bar (the strip of sand that piles up at the end of the river between the beach and the river). In fact the river is much shallower during the last several hundred yards near the mouth (since the tide is out) and it is critical to find the deepest channel to keep the boat moving. Sheilagh and I managed to stay in the channel and use the oars to keep us moving through the small rapids that flow over the bar; so we were able to let the river squirt us into the bay, rather than have to walk our dinghy over the bar. It was a very enjoyable trip.

The downside of the trip was the shrimp cocktail that Sheilagh had for lunch (I was still eating nothing but guacamole and chips). Either it disagreed with her or her with it, but the two parted ways about an hour after we got back. That evening I fixed some soup for myself, while Sheilagh suffered the stomach pains I had been having. We started the third season of “24” to ease our pain, and suffered together. The entire next day (Thursday) was spent recuperating by lying down and reading most of the day. A couple of the other cruisers called on the radio to see if we were alright; so it wasn’t as if we were alone in our misery. Almost everyone has had some of the same problems dining down here in Mexico. We just need to make sure we eat well-cooked food in the future.

Friday we joined several other sailing couples on the motor vessel, Aurora, at the invitation of Jesse and Charlene (the Canadian owners of the vessel), and used that to get across the bay to the Easternmost lobe, which is the town of Manzanilla. We towed a couple of dinghies behind to help us get onto the beach when we got there. Yes, Jesse and Charlene’s motor vessel happens to have the same name as our boat, Aurora; so we have had to get in the habit of using the term “motor vessel Aurora” or “sailing vessel Aurora” to keep the rest of the fleet from becoming confused when we report our statuses on the morning radio net.

This mode of transportation saved us about an hour or more of wet riding in the dinghy to go across and back, and it was fun to see how the “dark side” (the sailors’ name for motor vessels) works. I have to admit that leaning back in a lounge chair on a very stable flat deck with a cold drink in hand was a marked improvement over sitting on a cushion in the cockpit of a tipping sailboat while trying to keep one’s drink from spilling. We went over in the morning and everybody convened at the first internet café, only to find that the system there only supported three users at a time (we had some 5 laptops among the four couples). So we fanned out to find other internet cafes and rejoin the group for lunch.

Sheilagh and I each had about 100 messages that had piled up during the two weeks we had been away from any internet access; so we worked on messages and updated blogs for a couple of hours. There wasn’t enough time to add the pictures and movies to the blogs; so I’ll do that later. Sheilagh was able to contact three of our four daughters using the Skype computer-telephony capability (at .021 cents a minute) and I was able to contact a supplier who needed confirmation before shipping something we had ordered. As we rejoined the group for lunch, nearly everyone ordered the cheeseburger and fries, since this was the first chance most of us had to dine anywhere in the last two weeks that didn’t offer fish exclusively.

By the time lunch was over the wind had picked up considerably, blowing directly onto the beach from the bay. Normally this is a good thing because it causes good body-surfing waves, but in this case we needed to launch two dinghies with 9 people aboard to get back to the motor trawler. The tide had gone out since we had arrived, and now the beach was strewn with rocks that hadn’t been visible before. We all made it back to the motor yacht, but everyone was at least wet up to their waists. Thank goodness we all carry our computers in watertight bags that are used by kayakers to keep their spare underwear dry; so there was no concern for damaging them – only losing them overboard.

Friday evening we had a general dinghy raft-up of all the local cruisers at 5PM for a variety of purposes. The lead dinghy drops an anchor in a sheltered location in the bay, and all the other dinghies raft up to that one. If we were to meet on the beach, we would all have to land and then launch against the waves afterwards, and besides, this tends to be a bit more social. Everyone brought their own drinks along with an appetizer to share, books and movies to trade, and boat cards to exchange. Then we all met one another and started the food going in a counterclockwise direction around the raft-up.

Sheilagh and I contributed several books that we had both read, and picked up a couple of books and a DVD that we will exchange at another raft-up in the future. The boat cards are the size of business cards and ours contains our boat name, our names, our email addresses, our Sailmail and HAM radio call signs, and our pictures. This way, when we get to a new anchorage, we can consult the boat cards we have against the boat names in the anchorage and remind ourselves of peoples’ names and their faces before we have to hem and haw and apologize for not remembering. This getting old and forgetful doesn’t mean we aren’t smart enough to figure out ways to minimize our handicaps! More later . . .

Friday, January 11, 2008

January 7th – Chamela – Jim’s Blog #14

[Another catch-up blog - pictures later]

As I closed off the last blog we were retiring for the night at Ipala with about 7 other boats and wondering how we would extricate ourselves from the crowd around us. We woke up in early dawn to the sound of an anchor being raised just about 30 feet from our bow and I popped a head out of the front hatch to see what was going on. Imagine my surprise to find that all the boats in the inlet had already departed except for one sailboat besides the one just departing. We hustled to get up and get going so as not to be the last in the next anchorage, where there might be a shortage of room. Yes, we cruisers do have a competitive nature despite our protestations to being constantly relaxed.

We headed out and found that the steering was stiff making it difficult to turn the boat. A little trouble-shooting (in a big hurry) revealed that the electronic autopilot was permanently engaged due to a faulty engagement cable. We grabbed some tools and got it disengaged, and then chalked up another task to replace the cable when we could find the part.
A good 12 knot wind came up off the bow, so we raised the sails and proceeded down the coast with several distant masts in sight. Now in the sailing community it is generally understood that any two sailboats going in the same direction are racing, whether they admit it or not. So there I was with 5 sailboats and two motor trawlers ahead of me which it was my duty to catch. We passed the first sailboat within an hour or two, because it was having some trouble with its engine early on and had stopped to fix it. We never did catch the two powerboats, which must have been doing about 8 knots or so. The next sailboat took about 3 hours to catch and I can’t tell you how sweet it is to inch up on a boat and pass it after several hours of keeping the sails positioned just right for the wind.

Sheilagh thinks I’m nuts to spend hours adjusting sails to eke out another half a knot of speed, but she just doesn’t understand the need for speed. A half knot is not a big deal, if you are traveling at 65 miles an hour, but at 5 knots, it is an increase of 10%. I also passed a third sailboat with no others in sight ahead of me; so I’m not sure what happened to the other two sailboats in the anchorage at Ipala. They could have been heading north, or they could have left very early in the morning to get to a further anchorage by daylight. At any rate, the crowning moment was listening in on a radio conversation between the two boats I passed near the end of the day, where they were discussing that Valiant sailboat (mine) that passed them as if they were standing still. Ah, the sweetness of small triumphs.

We anchored in Chamela Bay where the southern swells tended to make the boat roll back and forth quite a bit. Normally we just snuggle up against a bulkhead (wall), wedge a pillow on the exposed side, and allow ourselves to be rocked to sleep. In this case the movement was more than we liked; so we created our own “flopper stopper” to keep the boat more steady. This device involves a flat surface and a weight hung by lines off the boom, which is placed at a 90 degree angle to the boat; so that the flopper stopper hangs in the water beside the boat. The flat surface is set up so that it will rise slightly with the swell which is opposed by the weight, but when the swell passes, the flat surface opposes the downward movement. We tried it out last night and saw a big difference. Normally a commercial flopper stopper is about $250 and would take time to be delivered. We happened to find plans for a makeshift one and had the parts onboard to make one; so we are quite proud of ourselves.

The day after we got into Chamela, I came down with stomach pains, sweating, and a general need to spend time in the head. It is a time like this that makes one wonder why we are on a sailboat off the coast of a third-world country with none of the benefits of pharmacies, doctor’s offices, special foods, etc. Of course I felt the same way when I was on a project away from home and came down with something that meant I was by myself in a hotel room with no one around to help out. Then today, when I feel tremendously better, I realize that we are on an extended vacation that includes all the time we want to read, sunbathe, visit with cruising friends (and sometimes natives), listen to the surf, and investigate new towns, beaches, bays, and local entertainment.

We made a trip into the local tienda (store) which had been pointed out to us as quite a ways down the beach. Rather than land at the usual location on the sand, we decided to take the dinghy down the beach and land nearer to the tienda, rather than have to walk all that way. When we arrived at the location on the beach opposite our destination, we followed the directions for landing in waves and followed the backside of the wave, rather than allow it to push us into shore, and made a very comfortable landing, hustling to get the motor tilted up before the propeller touched the sand and then getting the dinghy up on the beach before the next wave broke behind us. We have a couple of wheels on the back of the dinghy that drop down to allow us to walk the dinghy up the beach above the high tide line by lifting and pulling on the front of the dinghy. We did our shopping and returned to the beach to realize that we had to get back out through the waves.

I have done a lot of body surfing in the past and have spent hours in the surf looking for the best waves to use. Now I needed to find the flattest waves to give us a chance to get the dinghy out before any larger waves came along. We loaded up the dinghy, put the key in the ignition of the engine, and positioned it bow first to get back through the waves. We felt we had found a lull in the waves and gave it a good shove, after which I climbed in and tried to start the engine. Sheilagh climbed in as well and naturally the engine wouldn’t start. We quickly pulled out the oars to paddle our way out, but we were too late. A wave broke just in front of us, swiveled the dinghy around so that Sheilagh and I were “grabbing on for dear life” (losing an oar in the process), and shoved us back up on the beach as if we were a mere plaything.
We recovered the oar and considered whether we had the strength to walk the dinghy all the way down the beach to where the waves were not so large – a distance of at least a quarter of a mile.

The decision did not take long, since we were not prepared to walk that far lifting and dragging a dinghy full of supplies, even if it did have a couple of wheels on the back. This time we decided the engine couldn’t be trusted and that it was more important to walk the boat out as far as possible, regardless of how wet we might get. We lined up the dinghy, tilted the motor back, raised the wheels on the dinghy, positioned the oars at the ready, waited for what appeared to be a lull, and pushed that dinghy out through three small waves until the water was up to our waists – well it was up to my waist, but it was a bit higher on Sheilagh.

I managed to get in and man the oars, while Sheilagh, starting from a position practically under the dinghy, clawed her way over the side with one leg and both arms over the front of the dinghy. Since I was madly rowing to get the dinghy past the spot where the waves were breaking, I couldn’t help her despite her cries for assistance; but she managed to scramble over and get in just before another wave almost picked us up. I only got a glimpse of Sheilagh behind me, as I was facing aft with the oars, but I can say that the sight of her climbing into the dinghy was not one that would be found in the dictionary next to “coordinated,” “gorgeous,” or “svelte.”

It was a good thing we were away from the crowd of cruisers; so that no pictures could be taken and we would not have to suffer the embarrassment of being critiqued by our peers. When we got back to the boat, we both took a fresh water shower in our clothes on the side of the boat to get the salt water washed off of everything, and decided that we will be much more careful in the future as to where we land the dinghy in the first place.

My stomach ailment has continued to plague me; so that I am eating watery soup and drinking a lot of water and not much else. Hopefully, I am shedding pounds in the process and will emerge as a thin version of my former self. I think it must be the raw oysters I ate here that are causing my problems – I ended up consuming some 18 oysters in the course of a day, and none of them were the small ones that just slip down the throat. I can’t believe I didn’t think about the fact that we should only be eating cooked food and either boiled or bottled water when we eat out at these small palapas. Hopefully this will serve as a strong reminder in the future. Tomorrow we intend to head down to Careyes (a former Club Med vacation spot), which has room for a couple of boats in the small anchorage, and then on to Tenacatita for a longer stay. More later . . .

January 4th – Ipala – Jim’s Blog #13

We had held over in La Cruz to avoid some heavy winds that were predicted around the tip of Cabo Corrientes – the southern point on the mouth of Banderas Bay. These winds were predicted to die off on Thursday; so we headed out at 0-dark-30 (an expression learned in the Navy, pronounced “oh-dark-thirty,” and indicating early in the morning before the sun comes up). I had dressed in warm clothes, including boat shoes and socks, because the mornings are typically cool and I was expecting to swab a deck covered in dew. As I poked my head up the hatch, I was surprised to find that there was a very warm, dry wind blowing off the land that had dried the decks thoroughly, along with the clothes we had hung out to dry the previous day. It was similar to a Santa Ana (Southern California name) or Chinook (Pacific Northwest name) and it allowed me to strip down to shorts, a T-shirt, and bare feet and avoid swabbing the deck.

We pulled up the anchor and were away at 6:30AM with the wind behind us, along with the sea swells, giving us a great sail to the turn point at Cabo Corientes. Any point like this is considered a bit more dangerous than say, sailing on a bay or ocean, because the deflected winds, opposing swells, and varying currents that are caused by a point of land separating two different bodies of water can be difficult to get around. Our wind picked up to 22 knots and we could see the swells coming out of the bay being crisscrossed with swells coming from the ocean. We had stayed about 3 nautical miles off the point, but we noticed that the currents were carrying us sideways into the point a bit. We adjusted our sails and managed to squeeze by the point with about 1 mile of clearance, and within a few miles we ran out of wind entirely and had to crank up the engine. At that point the high hills at Cabo Corrientes had cut off the wind coming out of the bay, and the swells were just the gentle ocean swells we were used to that came from just the one direction behind us.




The point at Cabo Corrientes showing the agitated sea state



Along the way we saw dozens of tortoises that appeared as floating coconuts from a distance. As we came alongside, a tortoise would scramble to submerge – I use “scramble” here to indicate a type of frantic activity on the part of a tortoise that amounted to lifting its flippers, paddling a couple of times and then heading down – so it was not exactly the usual meaning of “scramble.” I had a short clip to show you of what I’m talking about, but I can't get it to load. I'll try sometime when I have a better internet connection.

We also saw a whale in our path that jumped several times in a row nearly completely out of the water. We were motoring at the time; so we slowed down and continued straight ahead. The whale seemed to move to our right as we went by and continued jumping after we passed. We saw at least 10 jumps separated by a minute or two between them. Then, as we were approaching our destination for the day, we saw two whales playing together, although these only jumped a couple of times. We also have some whale clips, but they can't be loaded at the present time.

We had made good time with the strong winds in the bay; so we arrived at Ipala at about 2:30 in the afternoon, rather than just before dark. Thank goodness we did, because the anchorage in this small bay is a small inlet that can’t be seen from the Northerly direction we were coming from. As we came into the bay we looked all around for the small settlement indicated in the Cruising guides, and gradually worked our way nearer to the shore. Then, just as we were about to give up hope, we passed a small cliff and saw the inlet nestled into a space that seemed too small for our boat. As we entered the inlet, it widened out and we saw a dozen pangas anchored there with several buildings on shore (one three stories high) just as it had been pictured in the cruising guide.

There were at least three Palapas which we later learned all served cerveza (beer for those who haven’t read the earlier blogs) with menus that included shrimp, oysters, octopus, and mixed fish (which we presume meant that whatever fish happened along is what was served) – no beef and no poultry in this fishing village. There was loud music emanating from the shore that appeared to be from a band that was practicing their songs. We heard a lot of brass and the loudest drumming you can imagine.

A view of the small landing at Ipala

We quickly inflated the life raft and went ashore, where we found the palapa with the practicing band and sat down for a couple of Pacifico cervezas. It appeared that the rest of the clientele was the band and some friends sitting around taking a break. We asked for menus and didn’t see any guacamole and chips on it, as we had come to expect in all Mexican restaurants. That’s when we learned that they served only octopus, shrimp, oysters, and mixed fish – all of which were listed both in the appetizer and entrée sections of the limited menu. A man sitting next to us introduced himself as Melisio in halting English and suggested we try the oysters, as they were the “best in all of Mexico.” We ordered the oysters and were amazed at the size and the amount of “meat” in each shell. Naturally we were offered several types of hot sauce to accompany them down the gullet, and quickly put them away.

While we were starting to eat, the band that was sitting around the palapa came off their break, and started to perform. If the music was loud to us on the boat, the din was unbelievable from inside the palapa, primarily from a base drummer and a snare drummer who felt that the foundations had to shake to make them heard. The band also had a tuba and trombone player, two trumpeters, and two clarinetists; so they could generate a lot of noise – I mean “music.” The white-haired owner of the place came out, saw us, asked if that was our boat in the bay (it was the only sailboat around), and promptly brought out two more cervezas and two shots of tequila “on the house!” We realized that this is what cruisers go cruising for – a private bay all our own, sharing stories with friendly natives, being treated to the local drink, and eating exceptionally fresh food that can’t be found in markets.

We treated the band to a bucket of beer and were thanked with a rousing rendition of La Bamba. Then we went down the absolutely deserted beach, put out a towel and sunbathed for awhile before returning to our boat for late afternoon naps – tough life, I know. We were tired; so we stayed on the boat for dinner, watched a couple of hours of the first season of “24”, and hit the rack. That’s when we realized that the band, which was quaint and appealing early on, was going to keep playing for the rest of the night with a succession of songs and instrumentals that all sounded about the same – and all very loud. Apparently they had been practicing all afternoon to put on a show in the evening. By that time they had a microphone to “enhance” their sound. All we could do was close up the hatches and ports and hope that they would get tired by midnight. By midnight I was asleep; so I’m not sure how long they performed. What was amazing to me was that they were practicing at 2PM when we first came into the bay, so they must have played a good 10 hours of straight sets, with some canned music for an hour while they ate dinner. Let me assure you that this was not the Tijuana Brass.

The next day we walked up through the only street in the village to the top of a hill to take a picture of the town and the anchorage. On our hike we noticed some other boats approaching the anchorage, and returned to find about 7 boats all anchored closely together in the small inlet. We knew a couple of the cruising couples and had lunch with them – shrimp for Sheilagh and another dozen oysters for me. Then it was back to the boat for a nap before doing the boat chores.

I had noticed when cleaning the bottom of the boat in San Blas that our zincs were getting quite eroded. For those who don’t know, zincs are small patches or circles of zinc material fixed to the side of the boat or to the propeller shaft to which all of the electronics in the boat are grounded. Since dissimilar metals can cause the least noble (a chemistry term) to disintegrate when exposed to salt water together, we use zincs as sacrificial metals on the boat that will be eaten away by the salt water, leaving the more noble metals alone. Naturally these zincs are deep under water on a boat, so I pulled out the snuba gear (an air compressor that supplies air through a long tube), put on my weight belt, fins, mask (oh, and a swimming suit as well) and went over the side.

The zincs had been eaten almost completely away, so it was definitely time to change them. The difficulty is that they are fixed to the boat with small nuts and washers that have to be captured by hand when taking them off, and reused on the replacement zincs. Suffice it to say, I carefully unscrewed each of the nuts and brought them to the surface one at a time, and then returned with the new zincs, one on the lower right side of the boat and one on the propeller shaft, and again had to surface to get each one from Sheilagh to make sure we didn’t lose one in the process. You will be happy to know that we were successful, and even devised a lanyard to hold the wrench and screwdriver to my wrist to keep them from plunging to the bottom. I tell you all this so you will be aware that this is not strictly a vacation for us – we do actually have to do work to make sure the boat stays in good condition. Imagine if you had to dive down into a flooded basement to attach two pieces of metal to the walls to keep the house afloat, and you can see that this is not exactly fun.

By nightfall there were 9 boats anchored close together in the small inlet and we wondered how we would get our anchor up in the morning and set sail for Chamela without bothering all our neighbors. Luckily the band had moved on to another small town for the next couple of days; so we were spared the loud music this second night in the anchorage. More later . . .

January 2nd – La Cruz – Jim’s Blog #12

[Pictures have been added as of January 13th.]

Yes, we’re still in La Cruz. We had planned to head south to the Gold Coast on New Year’s Day, but the forecast was not a particularly good one for where we wanted to go. So we asked ourselves what was pushing us to keep going? We decided there was no reason! Instead we will be heading out early tomorrow morning to go around Cabo Corrientes on the way to what should be a one-night stop in Ipala, with a more extended stay in Chamela. Each destination takes about 8 hours of sailing (or motoring) – approximately 50 nautical miles with an average speed of 6 knots. I realize this doesn’t sound very fast for those of us raised in the modern, speed-is-everything culture, but the whole idea with us is to slow down and smell the tropical flowers.

Speaking of speed, or lack of, we motored two hours down to Marina Vallarta yesterday, which is the only location on this large bay that offers diesel fuel. We had only one of two tanks full, which allows us about 400 miles of motoring. Since we are heading down to some out-of-the-way places, where fuel may be hard to get, we decided it would be wise to fill up the second tank to give us an additional 400 miles of range. We had been told not to get to the fuel dock before 10AM or we would be competing with dozens of pangas filling up for the daily fishing trips, parachute towing, banana boat towing, etc. So we got there about 11AM and had to stay out of the way for about 45 minutes as a succession of large fishing boats came in for a fill-up. They load up with 500 gallons of fuel, which takes quite some time, while we only needed 37 gallons (142 liters) when we finally got our chance. Then, because the weather was not good for going on south, we had to use up a gallon or so of fuel to get back to the anchorage, which took another 2 hours. Can you imagine having to spend 5 hours to get gas? Our economy in the U.S. would be grinding to a halt!

We took a day to be tourists along the Puerto Vallarta Malecon with Ed and Cornelia Gould, and had a good time seeing sand sculptures, watching people, and turning down dozens of requests for us to buy things to “take back to the family” – it was difficult to convince them that we aren’t going back home right away and there is no place to store hand-carved sling shots, dramatically colored serapes and blankets, and dozens of different hammocks in a boat – just to name a few items. Here are a couple of shots:


The Ed and Cornelia Gould and Sheilagh Sand carvings appropriate for the Christmas season

We also found out that Richard Burton had purchased a house for Elizabeth Taylor in Puerto Vallarta that was right next to his and connected by a bridge – apparently while they were filming Day of the Iguana here in Puerto Vallarta. So we had to track down the house with the use of a map designed to lead tourists there to spend 100 pesos each to see the house. We found the house and noted that it was now called Casa Kimberley, which we captured on film to show to our daughter Kimberly. It was not something that stood out from the surrounding buildings particularly, and we were not Burton and Taylor devotees; so we passed up the tour and now show below only the name on the building and the bridge between the two. I’m not sure how one sneaks over a bridge that is that exposed to see one’s lady love, but perhaps they wanted to be seen.



Here's the sign on the front of Elizabeth's one-time house Here's the aforementioned bridge between
We joined a group of cruisers for a spaghetti potluck on New Year’s Eve on a boat larger than ours, where nine of us adults squeezed into their fairly roomy cabin (at least roomy for a boat). The couple who hosted the potluck have two small boys, about 7 and 5, and their room in the bow was a kid’s dream. They had a television screen at the very bow of the boat, which was the foot of the bed for each, connected with their own DVD player. Surrounding them were an uncountable number of toys along the bins on either side, which didn’t include their boogie boards and outdoor equipment stowed on deck. Their days were filled with unique experiences, and punctuated by only 3 hours a day of classes. The parents were using an educational program developed for cruising, although the subject matter at this early stage in their lives was relatively simple.

I look back and remember the wasted hours in school waiting for everyone in the class to get a chance to read a few paragraphs, while I had already read the whole book, and I am jealous of the opportunity these kids have to complete a day of lessons in just 3 hours. I remember pulling out other books to keep me busy, but I always had to hide them and be ready if the teacher suspected something and called on me to continue where the last student left off. When I think of how much more I could have learned by not having to wait for the slowest kid in class, I get upset. Some will say that the social interaction with the other kids is a valuable experience to have, and I don’t disagree. However, I remember being bullied from the 1st through the 6th grade, and that only prepared me for bringing down bullies wherever I might find them. These kids pal around with another cruising family with three boys, and they play with the Mexican kids on the beach as well. I think they are getting plenty of social interaction, and imagine the connection with their parents and the value system they are learning from them.

The last event to discuss is a messy one, so you may want to skip this last paragraph. On our way back from getting fuel, when we were well out in the bay, we attempted to empty our holding tank and found that nothing would pump through. When we got back to the anchorage, Sheilagh, who has been the designated plumber throughout our married life, started trouble shooting from the bottom up. I would have started from the top down, but she got up to her elbows in the holding tank to see if there was an obstruction that was preventing the outflow. That was not the problem, but the stench was overwhelming and Sheilagh claims she could smell it on her arms even after washing vigorously for some time. We finally excluded everything but the hand pump as the problem and found that the inlet and outlet seals were not closing and opening correctly. After a quick change of all the seals, we had to motor back out in the middle of the bay to test it and it worked perfectly. Now we are waiting for the skin to slough off of Sheilagh’s arms before I will allow her to touch me again. More later . . .