We look at this totally flat water and wonder how it can possibly be blowing a gale on the bay, but every time we turn on NOAA weather, we hear the same thing: small-craft advisories, gale winds to 40 knots out of the southwest, seas 6 to 16 feet. The boat's ready to go, and we're ready to go, but Mama Nature says, "Forget it," so here we sit, wondering if we'll ever get away from here.
Did the laundry and went to the Post Office. Roy continued working on the boat. It was comfortably warm today. Thunderstorms are predicted for tomorrow.
At nine o'clock this evening, I had just gone to bed when I was startled by a loud noise. It sounded like a rock hitting the side of the boat. It WAS a rock hitting the side of the boat. A bunch of kids on the bridge were celebrating Halloween by throwing rocks at the boats in the marina. The boat next to ours had a window broken, but there doesn't appear to be any damage to the Jofian. Roy immediately popped up from the main cabin to the cockpit, and the kids took off. Roy grabbed a flashlight and went after them, but they were long gone.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 1994 - New Bedford, MA
Back on Standard Time. This is a beautiful, clear, sunny, fairly calm day. It's hard to believe it's blowing 20 knots on the Bay.
Roy continued working on the boat. I rode my bike to the grocery store for a couple of things. A little before two, we walked to the Chinese restaurant for a buffet lunch. In the evening, we went for a little stroll.
I phoned my friend Marilyn to let her know we were leaving. She took me for a nice drive a few weeks ago. I also tried to phone Linda but only got to talk with her answering machine. Roy phoned his daughter Laura and talked with her.
Roy continued working on the boat. I rode my bike to the grocery store for a couple of things. A little before two, we walked to the Chinese restaurant for a buffet lunch. In the evening, we went for a little stroll.
I phoned my friend Marilyn to let her know we were leaving. She took me for a nice drive a few weeks ago. I also tried to phone Linda but only got to talk with her answering machine. Roy phoned his daughter Laura and talked with her.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 1994 - New Bedford,
I've had a minor but annoying physical problem for two or three weeks. I knew I should see a physician, but I kept trying over-the-
counter remedies, hoping they'd work, and for a while, I thought they had. I felt great all day Thursday, when I went to Boston, and most of yesterday, but yesterday evening, here came my problem again, so I made up my mind I would definitely go to the doctor in the morning.
I'm always leery about walk-in clinics. I had a bad experience at one in Milpitas, and Roy went to one in Port Townsend that wanted $140 up front before they'd even talk with him, so he left. On the other hand, the walk-in clinic I went to in Morehead City was excellent, so I hoped for the best. Early this morning, I walked to the clinic in Fairhaven, hoping the doctor would speak English and have some vague notion of what he was doing. As it turned out, he was a native-born speaker of English and an excellent physician. He was about sixty years old, so I wasn't his first patient. He had a good sense of humor, took his time, and inspired my confidence. He gave me two prescriptions, which I filled on the way home. I feel better already.
Wow! What a terrific invitation we've received! "Crazy Eddie" Longo, the owner of the marina, has a waterfront vacation home in Aruba, and he's invited us to anchor in front of his house! We're really looking forward to that. Warm, clear water, excellent swimming and diving, a great place for our friends and relatives to visit us -- terrific! We'll probably spend several months there.
After our haulout was canceled, Roy and I had hoped to leave tomorrow morning, but the wind won't be favorable. It will be blowing 20 to 25 knots out of the southwest -- right on the nose. Roy has plenty to do on the boat, anyway, so he was busy all day, and I plotted our course to Newport.
counter remedies, hoping they'd work, and for a while, I thought they had. I felt great all day Thursday, when I went to Boston, and most of yesterday, but yesterday evening, here came my problem again, so I made up my mind I would definitely go to the doctor in the morning.
I'm always leery about walk-in clinics. I had a bad experience at one in Milpitas, and Roy went to one in Port Townsend that wanted $140 up front before they'd even talk with him, so he left. On the other hand, the walk-in clinic I went to in Morehead City was excellent, so I hoped for the best. Early this morning, I walked to the clinic in Fairhaven, hoping the doctor would speak English and have some vague notion of what he was doing. As it turned out, he was a native-born speaker of English and an excellent physician. He was about sixty years old, so I wasn't his first patient. He had a good sense of humor, took his time, and inspired my confidence. He gave me two prescriptions, which I filled on the way home. I feel better already.
Wow! What a terrific invitation we've received! "Crazy Eddie" Longo, the owner of the marina, has a waterfront vacation home in Aruba, and he's invited us to anchor in front of his house! We're really looking forward to that. Warm, clear water, excellent swimming and diving, a great place for our friends and relatives to visit us -- terrific! We'll probably spend several months there.
After our haulout was canceled, Roy and I had hoped to leave tomorrow morning, but the wind won't be favorable. It will be blowing 20 to 25 knots out of the southwest -- right on the nose. Roy has plenty to do on the boat, anyway, so he was busy all day, and I plotted our course to Newport.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Monday, April 12, 1993 - Puerto Madero & Friday, October 28, 1994 - New Bedford
(Still 3 weeks before Panama, but have also returned to New Bedford, so this is last post for now to Panama and also first post of preparing to sail in the Caribbean.)
We made it! We crossed the dread Golfo de Tehuantepec! And it was a piece of cake. Even the one little Tehuantepecer we ran into was a very mild one of short duration. Most of the time, there was either no wind at all or a nice sailing breeze. This afternoon was perfect. We turned off the engine and zoomed along at 6-7 knots. Boy, that felt good! So now all we have to do is dodge the pirates of El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua, the papagallo gales of Costa Rica, the muggers and pickpockets of Colon, and the malarial mosquitoes of Belize. After that we're home free.
We arrived at Puerto Madero shortly after sunset. Unfortunately, a ship was coming out just as we approached the breakwater, so we had to stop and wait for him to get out of the way. That cost us 10 or 15 precious minutes of daylight. By the time we got into the harbor, it was too dark to find the yacht basin, so we dropped anchor in the outer harbor. I had a feeling we weren't supposed to be there, but Roy said we were in 12 feet of water, so there was no danger of big ships coming that way. I felt sleepy, so I lay down on the foredeck to take a nap, but before I could get to sleep, the sound of a motor roused me. An unlit panga with three guys in it pulled up next to the Jofian. It was too dark to see them clearly, so we assumed they were fishermen come to offer us fish. I asked, "Pescado?" (Fish?) That was a mistake. They turned out to be "Armada de Mexico", Mexican Navy, telling us we couldn't anchor there. They didn't speak English, but their Spanish was plain enough. I told them, "No podemos ver" (We can't see), but they didn't care. They knew one word of English and they used it: "Move! Move!" So we pulled up the anchor, and they zoomed off.
According to our chart, there were two basins off the main harbor, but it was too dark to see the channels that led to them. A brightly lit dredge happened to come in at that moment, so we decided to follow it, assuming it was on its way to the large ship harbor, but it only went a short way and dropped anchor. We couldn't see if there was enough room to squeeze by him, so Roy started going around in circles. We were afraid we might have to spend the night circling, but then the Navy panga came zooming back, shouting, "Move! Move!" Again I said, "No podemos ver!" They indicated we should follow them, and they proceeded slowly ahead of us. Since they had no light, I stood in the bow shining the searchlight on them, so Roy could see where to go. It was a pitch dark night; we had no idea where we were going. For a while, I was afraid they were going to take us outside the breakwater and make us anchor in the ocean, but soon we could make out the outlines of other sailboats at anchor. The Navy guys said, "OK aqui," and zoomed off, so we dropped anchor, still not really knowing where we were.
We'd no sooner anchored than two boys in an inflatable chugged up and asked if we wanted diesel. We asked how much, and they told us 1200 a liter, which works out to about $1.60 a gallon, which is pretty high. We said, "Manana," and they left.
Fortunately, Roy only wanted a light supper, so we ate some soup and canned peaches. Then I collapsed into bed and zombied out.
Friday, October 28, 1994
Hello again. Roy returned yesterday, looking hale and hearty. Hard work must agree with him.
He didn't have a clue that I was going to meet him at the airport. I wanted to surprise him -- and I sure did! But I was surprised, too. He was supposed to arrive at 3:02 p.m. on Flight 1234 from Denver. I got to the airport at twenty to three and looked at the Continental monitor. No Flight 1234 was listed, no flight from Denver was listed, no flight scheduled to arrive at 3:02 was listed. Panic thoughts flashed through my mind: the plane had crashed, the flight had been canceled, the plane had gotten in an hour early and Roy was already on his way to the boat. Naw, whoever heard of a flight getting in early!
The line at the ticket counter was a mile long, so I went to the First Class counter, which was only one deep. The clerk informed me that Flight 1234 from Denver had been replaced by Flight 1216 from Cleveland, which was due in at 4:10. She checked on the computer and found Grabenauer, so that was a relief. (Sometimes it helps to have a name that isn't Smith or Jones -- or Holt!)
At four o'clock, I rechecked the monitor. Flight 1216 was now due in at 4:27. Par for the course.
When the plane landed, I hid behind a big square pillar, where Roy couldn't see me. As soon as he walked past, I sneaked up in back of him and asked, "Do you have a feeling you're being followed?" Talk about a double take! He looked at me as if he'd never seen me before in his life; then he recognized me, and we both burst out laughing. Passersby must have thought we were a couple of escapees from the local loony bin. We were both very glad to see each other again.
On the way home, we got caught up on conversation. During our weekly telephone conversation last Sunday, Roy had asked me to make a reservation at Kelley's Boatyard for a quickie haulout. He wanted to inspect the hull, replace the zincs, and install the new cable for the Sumlog. So on Monday, I rode my bike over there and talked with the Operations Manager. Their prices were a little high -- $5 a foot for the haulout, including the return, $2 a foot for the pressure wash, and $1 a foot for laydays -- but we could live aboard, and Roy could do his own work, so I made what I thought was a reservation for next Monday. I wanted to set a specific time, but the manager said to phone him one or two days before the haulout to set the time. He assured me there would be no problem hauling out on Monday.
Today, Friday, Roy busied himself putting away all the tons of gear he had shipped back from California and figuring out where to install the new diesel heater. I pulled the wagon over to the Post Office and brought home the last of the boxes he had shipped. We also checked some other yards, but Kelley's was the cheapest, so I tried to phone the Operations Manager, whom I had talked with last Monday. It turned out he had the day off. The woman in the office said I'd have to talk with Mr. McLaughlin, but he was on the other line. I called back later, and McLaughlin was busy in the yard. Roy and I wanted to look the place over anyway, so we rode our bikes over there to talk with him in person. It turned out the Operations Manager had never said one word to McLaughlin about hauling out the Jofian, and they were booked solid for Monday. In fact, the earliest they could haul us was Wednesday, so we said, "Forget it." There's nothing urgent about hauling out here; the boat hasn't leaked a drop, so we'll just head south. We're going to haul out in Norfolk, anyway.
This evening, the wind died down. Roy wanted to take advantage of the calm to turn the boat around, so we'd be headed out. He got all the lines ready but forgot to cleat the stern line, so the boat nearly got away from us. Fortunately, there were a couple of other lines attached to the boat, so we were able to salvage the situation. Jofian is now tied to the outside of the dock, ready to leave as soon as we get a weather window.
We made it! We crossed the dread Golfo de Tehuantepec! And it was a piece of cake. Even the one little Tehuantepecer we ran into was a very mild one of short duration. Most of the time, there was either no wind at all or a nice sailing breeze. This afternoon was perfect. We turned off the engine and zoomed along at 6-7 knots. Boy, that felt good! So now all we have to do is dodge the pirates of El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua, the papagallo gales of Costa Rica, the muggers and pickpockets of Colon, and the malarial mosquitoes of Belize. After that we're home free.
We arrived at Puerto Madero shortly after sunset. Unfortunately, a ship was coming out just as we approached the breakwater, so we had to stop and wait for him to get out of the way. That cost us 10 or 15 precious minutes of daylight. By the time we got into the harbor, it was too dark to find the yacht basin, so we dropped anchor in the outer harbor. I had a feeling we weren't supposed to be there, but Roy said we were in 12 feet of water, so there was no danger of big ships coming that way. I felt sleepy, so I lay down on the foredeck to take a nap, but before I could get to sleep, the sound of a motor roused me. An unlit panga with three guys in it pulled up next to the Jofian. It was too dark to see them clearly, so we assumed they were fishermen come to offer us fish. I asked, "Pescado?" (Fish?) That was a mistake. They turned out to be "Armada de Mexico", Mexican Navy, telling us we couldn't anchor there. They didn't speak English, but their Spanish was plain enough. I told them, "No podemos ver" (We can't see), but they didn't care. They knew one word of English and they used it: "Move! Move!" So we pulled up the anchor, and they zoomed off.
According to our chart, there were two basins off the main harbor, but it was too dark to see the channels that led to them. A brightly lit dredge happened to come in at that moment, so we decided to follow it, assuming it was on its way to the large ship harbor, but it only went a short way and dropped anchor. We couldn't see if there was enough room to squeeze by him, so Roy started going around in circles. We were afraid we might have to spend the night circling, but then the Navy panga came zooming back, shouting, "Move! Move!" Again I said, "No podemos ver!" They indicated we should follow them, and they proceeded slowly ahead of us. Since they had no light, I stood in the bow shining the searchlight on them, so Roy could see where to go. It was a pitch dark night; we had no idea where we were going. For a while, I was afraid they were going to take us outside the breakwater and make us anchor in the ocean, but soon we could make out the outlines of other sailboats at anchor. The Navy guys said, "OK aqui," and zoomed off, so we dropped anchor, still not really knowing where we were.
We'd no sooner anchored than two boys in an inflatable chugged up and asked if we wanted diesel. We asked how much, and they told us 1200 a liter, which works out to about $1.60 a gallon, which is pretty high. We said, "Manana," and they left.
Fortunately, Roy only wanted a light supper, so we ate some soup and canned peaches. Then I collapsed into bed and zombied out.
Friday, October 28, 1994
Hello again. Roy returned yesterday, looking hale and hearty. Hard work must agree with him.
He didn't have a clue that I was going to meet him at the airport. I wanted to surprise him -- and I sure did! But I was surprised, too. He was supposed to arrive at 3:02 p.m. on Flight 1234 from Denver. I got to the airport at twenty to three and looked at the Continental monitor. No Flight 1234 was listed, no flight from Denver was listed, no flight scheduled to arrive at 3:02 was listed. Panic thoughts flashed through my mind: the plane had crashed, the flight had been canceled, the plane had gotten in an hour early and Roy was already on his way to the boat. Naw, whoever heard of a flight getting in early!
The line at the ticket counter was a mile long, so I went to the First Class counter, which was only one deep. The clerk informed me that Flight 1234 from Denver had been replaced by Flight 1216 from Cleveland, which was due in at 4:10. She checked on the computer and found Grabenauer, so that was a relief. (Sometimes it helps to have a name that isn't Smith or Jones -- or Holt!)
At four o'clock, I rechecked the monitor. Flight 1216 was now due in at 4:27. Par for the course.
When the plane landed, I hid behind a big square pillar, where Roy couldn't see me. As soon as he walked past, I sneaked up in back of him and asked, "Do you have a feeling you're being followed?" Talk about a double take! He looked at me as if he'd never seen me before in his life; then he recognized me, and we both burst out laughing. Passersby must have thought we were a couple of escapees from the local loony bin. We were both very glad to see each other again.
On the way home, we got caught up on conversation. During our weekly telephone conversation last Sunday, Roy had asked me to make a reservation at Kelley's Boatyard for a quickie haulout. He wanted to inspect the hull, replace the zincs, and install the new cable for the Sumlog. So on Monday, I rode my bike over there and talked with the Operations Manager. Their prices were a little high -- $5 a foot for the haulout, including the return, $2 a foot for the pressure wash, and $1 a foot for laydays -- but we could live aboard, and Roy could do his own work, so I made what I thought was a reservation for next Monday. I wanted to set a specific time, but the manager said to phone him one or two days before the haulout to set the time. He assured me there would be no problem hauling out on Monday.
Today, Friday, Roy busied himself putting away all the tons of gear he had shipped back from California and figuring out where to install the new diesel heater. I pulled the wagon over to the Post Office and brought home the last of the boxes he had shipped. We also checked some other yards, but Kelley's was the cheapest, so I tried to phone the Operations Manager, whom I had talked with last Monday. It turned out he had the day off. The woman in the office said I'd have to talk with Mr. McLaughlin, but he was on the other line. I called back later, and McLaughlin was busy in the yard. Roy and I wanted to look the place over anyway, so we rode our bikes over there to talk with him in person. It turned out the Operations Manager had never said one word to McLaughlin about hauling out the Jofian, and they were booked solid for Monday. In fact, the earliest they could haul us was Wednesday, so we said, "Forget it." There's nothing urgent about hauling out here; the boat hasn't leaked a drop, so we'll just head south. We're going to haul out in Norfolk, anyway.
This evening, the wind died down. Roy wanted to take advantage of the calm to turn the boat around, so we'd be headed out. He got all the lines ready but forgot to cleat the stern line, so the boat nearly got away from us. Fortunately, there were a couple of other lines attached to the boat, so we were able to salvage the situation. Jofian is now tied to the outside of the dock, ready to leave as soon as we get a weather window.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Easter Sunday, April 11, 1993 - On way Puerto Madero
When I lay down yesterday, I thought Roy would wake me at ten, so we could eat supper and leave, but he let me sleep, bless his heart. I didn't wake up until after five this morning. That was quite a nap.
We got a favorable weather report from Port Control, so right after breakfast, we left.
As we were leaving the bay, another U.S. sailboat, the "Ossuna", hailed us on VHF. They had spent the night in Salina Cruz and were about 2 miles behind us. They're also going to Costa Rica, so they'll be following us quite a ways. They don't plan on stopping in Puerto Madero, however.
Delightful breeze this morning. Perfect temperature. Had all four sails up, but also used the engine for extra speed. Around noon, the wind died down, then shifted to southeast, so we were able to continue motorsailing.
Heidi on the Ossuna called us on the VHF and chatted for a few minutes. A very calm, peaceful day.
We got a favorable weather report from Port Control, so right after breakfast, we left.
As we were leaving the bay, another U.S. sailboat, the "Ossuna", hailed us on VHF. They had spent the night in Salina Cruz and were about 2 miles behind us. They're also going to Costa Rica, so they'll be following us quite a ways. They don't plan on stopping in Puerto Madero, however.
Delightful breeze this morning. Perfect temperature. Had all four sails up, but also used the engine for extra speed. Around noon, the wind died down, then shifted to southeast, so we were able to continue motorsailing.
Heidi on the Ossuna called us on the VHF and chatted for a few minutes. A very calm, peaceful day.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Saturday, April 10, 1993 - Bahia Ventosa, on way Puerto Madero
Motored peacefully all night. In the morning, a perfect sailing breeze came up--45 degrees, 15-20 knots. So we turned off the engine, raised the sails, and enjoyed the best sail we've had in quite a while.
The Gulf of Tehuantepec is one of the windiest places in the world. Northeast winds in the western Gulf of Mexico sweep across the isthmus, gathering momentum on the way. By the time they reach the Gulf of Tehuantepec, they're usually at gale force, 40 to 50 knots, and are known as "Tehuantepecers". The safest way to cross the gulf is by staying close to shore, having "one foot on the beach," as they say. The Tehuantepecers can come up at any time, without warning. Many boats have been lost trying to cut straight across the gulf instead of going the extra 30 miles along the coast.
We had been hugging the coast as we should. There was a freighter behind us, going the same speed we were. The land fell away to the west, so I was going to turn to port and continue following the coast. Unfortunately, just then the freighter turned to port. Apparently, he was going to cut in back of us and pass us on our port side. I didn't want to confuse him by changing course, so I kept going straight ahead, getting farther and farther from land. The wind is just as strong no matter where you are, but the waves haven't had a chance to build up close to land. The farther out you are, the bigger the waves, and they're what do the damage. Suddenly, we got hit by 30-40 knot winds from the northeast. We waited until the freighter had passed; then we dropped the sails, started the engine, and headed straight towards land, bouncy, bouncy. We rounded a point and anchored in Bahia Chipehua. It was so windy, it took me half an hour just to get the anchor ready. I had to practically crawl out to the bow on my hands and knees. Waves kept slapping over the bow, giving me a shower. By the time I was through, my hair looked as if I'd set it with kindergarten paste while standing in front of an electric fan, using an egg-beater for a comb. But that's ok; the beauty contest isn't until next week.
We could see a lot of people and palapas on the beach. A panga with about eight guys in it came alongside and asked us in English where we were from and where we were going. We told them, and Roy gave them a bag of candy, which made them happy.
We ate lunch and rested a while. Talked with Salina Cruz Port Control on the VHF and got the weather report: 25-35 knot northeast wind, as we knew. I wanted to stay where we were until the wind died down, but the anchor chain was being jolted violently and frequently, so Roy decided to head north to Bahia Ventosa (Windy Bay) to get out of the wind. Okay.
Expecting a long, rough trip, I went below to take a nap. To my surprise, when I woke up two hours later, we were already at Salina Cruz! I don't know how we got there so fast.
Salina Cruz is a hot, dry, dusty, ugly industrial port. There's an oil refinery there and a lot of tanks. It's the sort of place no one would live in unless he was born there. A person would have to be totally desperate for a job to deliberately move there.
We didn't want to go into Salina Cruz, so we went around the point and anchored in Bahia Ventosa, where it was relatively calm and peaceful. We could see a lot of people on the beach and hear music playing.
We got an update on the weather from Port Control. The wind would be dying down that night, so we decided to leave at midnight. Roy lay down in the main cabin to take a nap. I updated the log, washed the brine out of my hair, and lay down in the aft cabin to take a nap.
The Gulf of Tehuantepec is one of the windiest places in the world. Northeast winds in the western Gulf of Mexico sweep across the isthmus, gathering momentum on the way. By the time they reach the Gulf of Tehuantepec, they're usually at gale force, 40 to 50 knots, and are known as "Tehuantepecers". The safest way to cross the gulf is by staying close to shore, having "one foot on the beach," as they say. The Tehuantepecers can come up at any time, without warning. Many boats have been lost trying to cut straight across the gulf instead of going the extra 30 miles along the coast.
We had been hugging the coast as we should. There was a freighter behind us, going the same speed we were. The land fell away to the west, so I was going to turn to port and continue following the coast. Unfortunately, just then the freighter turned to port. Apparently, he was going to cut in back of us and pass us on our port side. I didn't want to confuse him by changing course, so I kept going straight ahead, getting farther and farther from land. The wind is just as strong no matter where you are, but the waves haven't had a chance to build up close to land. The farther out you are, the bigger the waves, and they're what do the damage. Suddenly, we got hit by 30-40 knot winds from the northeast. We waited until the freighter had passed; then we dropped the sails, started the engine, and headed straight towards land, bouncy, bouncy. We rounded a point and anchored in Bahia Chipehua. It was so windy, it took me half an hour just to get the anchor ready. I had to practically crawl out to the bow on my hands and knees. Waves kept slapping over the bow, giving me a shower. By the time I was through, my hair looked as if I'd set it with kindergarten paste while standing in front of an electric fan, using an egg-beater for a comb. But that's ok; the beauty contest isn't until next week.
We could see a lot of people and palapas on the beach. A panga with about eight guys in it came alongside and asked us in English where we were from and where we were going. We told them, and Roy gave them a bag of candy, which made them happy.
We ate lunch and rested a while. Talked with Salina Cruz Port Control on the VHF and got the weather report: 25-35 knot northeast wind, as we knew. I wanted to stay where we were until the wind died down, but the anchor chain was being jolted violently and frequently, so Roy decided to head north to Bahia Ventosa (Windy Bay) to get out of the wind. Okay.
Expecting a long, rough trip, I went below to take a nap. To my surprise, when I woke up two hours later, we were already at Salina Cruz! I don't know how we got there so fast.
Salina Cruz is a hot, dry, dusty, ugly industrial port. There's an oil refinery there and a lot of tanks. It's the sort of place no one would live in unless he was born there. A person would have to be totally desperate for a job to deliberately move there.
We didn't want to go into Salina Cruz, so we went around the point and anchored in Bahia Ventosa, where it was relatively calm and peaceful. We could see a lot of people on the beach and hear music playing.
We got an update on the weather from Port Control. The wind would be dying down that night, so we decided to leave at midnight. Roy lay down in the main cabin to take a nap. I updated the log, washed the brine out of my hair, and lay down in the aft cabin to take a nap.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Friday, April 9, 1993 - Hualtuco, on way Puerto Madero
Passed Puerto Escondido in the middle of the night. Passed Puerto Angel right after breakfast. At one p.m., we dropped anchor in the harbor at Hualtuco. This is the last place to hole up before entering the Gulf of Tehuantepec. We expected a tiny fishing village. Instead, we found the hub of a grandiose resort development that will take 30 years to complete! Already there are several first-class hotels and an inner harbor that is well-protected by two sturdily constructed breakwaters and has an attractive promenade all around it. There are a number of clean, sandy beaches. Thousands of Mexicans are here for the Holy Week vacation. If I were a Mexican, I'd a lot rather spend my vacation in Hualtuco than in that crowded, noisy, expensive Acapulco.
We ate lunch, and then Roy replaced the impeller, while I stayed out of his hair by going swimming and paddling. It was a very great sacrifice on my part, but I managed to bear up under it.
When he was through replacing the impeller, Roy got ready to go paddling, too. There was a lot of dirt and goop on the hull from Cabo San Lucas, so he went to get a brush to scrub it off with. I was still in my Royak, so I got out my sponge and began wiping off some of the goosh. There were a zillion pangas and jet skis and skidoos and whatnot zooming around, churning up the water. I was leaning over the side of my Royak, wiping Jofian's hull. A bunch of waves came along and flipped my Royak, which was fine--the water was warm, and I had my swimsuit on. I righted the Royak, got back in it, and continued washing the hull. A couple of minutes later, the same thing happened again. Unfortunately, this time Roy saw it. He got all excited and started yelling, "Turn your Royak over! Turn your Royak over!", which made me mad--as if I didn't have brains enough to know I needed to right my Royak. Anyway, I turned it right side up, got back in it, and paddled after the cushion. After I retrieved the cushion and bailed the water out of the back compartment, I turned back towards the boat and was delighted to see a Royak that had pulled its line loose and was drifting merrily away on its own. So I had the last laugh as I paddled after and retrieved Mr. Royak's Royak. Yuk yuk.
There were three other U.S. sailboats here, so we paddled over and talked with some of the people. They gave us a lot of valuable information, especially that we could get weather reports from Salina Cruz Port Control in fluent English. We could contact them on VHF channel 16 or 6, or on single sideband, 8242.8 transmit, 8792.8 receive. We haven't been able to get the nets clearly since we left Puerto Vallarta, so it's good to know where we can get weather information.
Paddled around for a while. Then ate supper and enjoyed the delightful evening breeze. Around 8 o'clock, we pulled up the anchor and headed northeast into the Gulf. As we were leaving, Roy shone the searchlight on the water, and a thousand fish jumped into the air! Amazing sight!
We ate lunch, and then Roy replaced the impeller, while I stayed out of his hair by going swimming and paddling. It was a very great sacrifice on my part, but I managed to bear up under it.
When he was through replacing the impeller, Roy got ready to go paddling, too. There was a lot of dirt and goop on the hull from Cabo San Lucas, so he went to get a brush to scrub it off with. I was still in my Royak, so I got out my sponge and began wiping off some of the goosh. There were a zillion pangas and jet skis and skidoos and whatnot zooming around, churning up the water. I was leaning over the side of my Royak, wiping Jofian's hull. A bunch of waves came along and flipped my Royak, which was fine--the water was warm, and I had my swimsuit on. I righted the Royak, got back in it, and continued washing the hull. A couple of minutes later, the same thing happened again. Unfortunately, this time Roy saw it. He got all excited and started yelling, "Turn your Royak over! Turn your Royak over!", which made me mad--as if I didn't have brains enough to know I needed to right my Royak. Anyway, I turned it right side up, got back in it, and paddled after the cushion. After I retrieved the cushion and bailed the water out of the back compartment, I turned back towards the boat and was delighted to see a Royak that had pulled its line loose and was drifting merrily away on its own. So I had the last laugh as I paddled after and retrieved Mr. Royak's Royak. Yuk yuk.
There were three other U.S. sailboats here, so we paddled over and talked with some of the people. They gave us a lot of valuable information, especially that we could get weather reports from Salina Cruz Port Control in fluent English. We could contact them on VHF channel 16 or 6, or on single sideband, 8242.8 transmit, 8792.8 receive. We haven't been able to get the nets clearly since we left Puerto Vallarta, so it's good to know where we can get weather information.
Paddled around for a while. Then ate supper and enjoyed the delightful evening breeze. Around 8 o'clock, we pulled up the anchor and headed northeast into the Gulf. As we were leaving, Roy shone the searchlight on the water, and a thousand fish jumped into the air! Amazing sight!
Monday, October 24, 2011
Thursday, April 8, 1993 - On way Hualtuco, MEX
It's sure good to be back on the water again, away from the crowds and traffic and noise and dirt and hurry-scurry. Out here, it's so quiet and peaceful, and the air smells so good. Not much wind, though. Had to use the engine even when the sails were up.
We're making terrific time. Tomorrow we reach the notorious Gulf of Tehuantepec. There are usually gales blowing there, so we might have to hole up in Hualtuco for a few days.
This is all new territory for us. We've never been south of Acapulco before.
We're making terrific time. Tomorrow we reach the notorious Gulf of Tehuantepec. There are usually gales blowing there, so we might have to hole up in Hualtuco for a few days.
This is all new territory for us. We've never been south of Acapulco before.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Wednesday, April 7, 1993 - Acapulco
This is the morning we intended to leave. Went to the fuel dock and loaded with diesel. Roy dove on the prop and found that the perry nut zinc was nearly gone. Fortunately, he had two spares, so he put one on, while I went wild-goose-chasing to find another spare. The Mariner Marine Supply Store didn't have them. The store at the yacht club had zincs, but not the right size. Went across the street to the little Mobil marine-services shop. They sent me upstairs to a private apartment. There was no sign of any kind to indicate they sold marine supplies, but they did. The woman was very nice but didn't have the right zinc. So I returned to the boat and fixed lunch.
Two guys came by who had just arrived. They wanted directions to the Port Captain, Migracion, etc. I gave them the directions, and they took off. They wanted to check in and out at the same time and then take off for Costa Rica and Panama. They got about halfway through the process when suddenly everything shut down. It seems Ash Wednesday (today) is a half-holiday, Maundy Thursday's a full holiday, and Good Friday's also a full holiday, so they won't be able to finish checking out until Monday! Boy, were they mad! Lucky we checked out yesterday.
Roy had put the speedometer back together and had filled the water tank, so we were all set to go. Started a little before 4.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Tuesday, April 6, 1993 - Acapulco
Apparently, it was just by dumb luck we caught the right buses to Migracion, etc., yesterday. Today, I caught nothing but wrong buses, but eventually I got where I wanted to go.
Went through the check-out process by myself while Roy worked on the boat. On my way to the Migracion office, I thought I'd gone too far, so I got off the bus and began walking back. Fortunately, I soon realized I was going in the wrong direction, so I turned around. Just about then, I saw the most astonishing sight of my entire life. A middle-aged, overweight, unattractive Mexican woman walked across the sidewalk a few feet in front of me--STARK NAKED! She wasn't even wearing shoes. Absolutely nothing. And she wasn't trying to cover herself with her hands or to scurry to a hiding place. She just strolled across the sidewalk to a public phone and began dialing a number, standing there in all her glory in broad daylight. I hope the person she phoned hurried down with some clothes.
Also saw an accident this morning. We'd been marveling that there weren't 1000 accidents an hour, as wild as they drive down here, but we hadn't seen any until this one. Two guys were lying in the middle of the street next to a motorcycle, and a dented car was nearby, so I assumed the car had hit the motorcycle on which the two guys had been riding.
After making the check-out rounds, I went to a copy place and waited impatiently for an hour while two girls ran off ten copies of the log. Bought ten manila envelopes and returned to the boat.
Roy collated the pages while I addressed the envelopes and grabbed a bite to eat. Took them down to the post office and were stunned to find out it cost 120 new pesos to mail the ten logs. That's $40 U.S.! We won't be mailing any more until we reach Florida.
The speedometer had been acting up, so Roy had removed the cable. After eating some ice cream to remove the taste of the envelopes' glue, we set out walking to find a new speedometer cable. Rotsa ruck. We walked for miles and asked at a dozen places. It was 5 o'clock by the time we found a shop that had speedometer cables. They had to splice two together to make one the right length. (Fortunately, the woman spoke fluent English, which helped tremendously.) They had other work ahead of ours, so we were told to return at six.
Walked around a while. Passed a bank where hundreds of people were standing in line on the sidewalk. They were still there an hour later. We kept wondering what was going on, but never did find out.
Returned to the shop at 5:35. At 6:45, we were told, "Five more minutes." At 7:10, they finally brought out the new cable. It was too long, so they took it back and snipped off a little bit. Still too long, so they snipped again.
We finally got out of there about 7:30. It was nearly 8 when we reached the boat. Earlier, Roy had invited Henry to go with us to see the high divers this evening. We had planned on attending the 7:30 show. Ha. So we set out for the 9:30 show. Took the bus to Iglesias and walked the rest of the way. As usual, we walked a lot faster than the jammed-up cars and taxis. To our amazement, we got there in time for the 8:30 show! After it, we stayed for the 9:30. Roy went down to the lowest balcony, but Henry and I stayed up high. We all had excellent viewing positions.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Monday, April 5, 1993 - Acapulco
A tiny little sailboat, "Glory", tied up next to us this morning, single-handed by a little old man who looked 75 years old but turned out to be 67. He looks like a toothpick; couldn't weigh more than 100 pounds soaking wet. It's a wonder he can handle his boat, even though it's only 23 feet long. He has good equipment, though. His autopilot works off his GPS. He has radar and all the rest. His name is Henry, and he's from Poole, England, which is where the Jofian was built! He told us he's a retired dairy farmer (we found out later he's an English lord). He's been sailing off and on for 40 years. He's sailed 62,000 miles, has circumnavigated the globe, and is an honorary member of the Slocum Society. A very nice, humble, soft-spoken man.
Listened to the local net and obtained a lot of valuable informa-
tion. Several people are going through the check-in procedure as a group. We'll join them, and so will Henry. The Migracion office has moved, but the leader of the group, Monika, has a map and knows where it is, so it's lucky we're going with her.
At nine, we went up to the office and paid our fees for three days. At ten, Monika, Jerry, Henry, Roy, and I set off on our check in adventure. Rode a speeding bus to the Migracion office, which we found without too much difficulty. After getting our papers stamped, we rode another bus back to the Port Captain's office. Since our papers said "Zihuatanejo", I had to write a statement in Spanish explaining why we hadn't stopped there. Henry needed a statement in Spanish explaining why he'd stopped in Acapulco when his papers said "San Diego", so I wrote that, too. Both statements were undoubtedly loaded with errors, but they were accepted.
When we were through at the Port Captain's office, we went across the street and paid our port fees. Then the group broke up. We and Henry walked to town and looked for a cambio. Found one, but it was temporarily out of money. Ran off six copies of our check-out paper. Ate a good lunch at Sanborn's. Returned to the cambio, whose money supply had been replenished, and got some pesos.
Went back to the boat and got our shopping bags. We had agreed with Henry to buy groceries together and share the cost of a cab to take them back to the boat. Got on the wrong bus and found ourselves going very slowly through the back streets, so when we saw a super market, we got off. Bought 800 pounds of groceries (only slight exaggeration). How Roy ever carried them to the cab, I'll never know. The cab fare was only 7 pesos, so we saved money as well as time. Invited Henry to have supper with us.
Sometime during the day, we arranged to buy diesel at the yacht club fuel dock Wednesday morning.
Listened to the local net and obtained a lot of valuable informa-
tion. Several people are going through the check-in procedure as a group. We'll join them, and so will Henry. The Migracion office has moved, but the leader of the group, Monika, has a map and knows where it is, so it's lucky we're going with her.
At nine, we went up to the office and paid our fees for three days. At ten, Monika, Jerry, Henry, Roy, and I set off on our check in adventure. Rode a speeding bus to the Migracion office, which we found without too much difficulty. After getting our papers stamped, we rode another bus back to the Port Captain's office. Since our papers said "Zihuatanejo", I had to write a statement in Spanish explaining why we hadn't stopped there. Henry needed a statement in Spanish explaining why he'd stopped in Acapulco when his papers said "San Diego", so I wrote that, too. Both statements were undoubtedly loaded with errors, but they were accepted.
When we were through at the Port Captain's office, we went across the street and paid our port fees. Then the group broke up. We and Henry walked to town and looked for a cambio. Found one, but it was temporarily out of money. Ran off six copies of our check-out paper. Ate a good lunch at Sanborn's. Returned to the cambio, whose money supply had been replenished, and got some pesos.
Went back to the boat and got our shopping bags. We had agreed with Henry to buy groceries together and share the cost of a cab to take them back to the boat. Got on the wrong bus and found ourselves going very slowly through the back streets, so when we saw a super market, we got off. Bought 800 pounds of groceries (only slight exaggeration). How Roy ever carried them to the cab, I'll never know. The cab fare was only 7 pesos, so we saved money as well as time. Invited Henry to have supper with us.
Sometime during the day, we arranged to buy diesel at the yacht club fuel dock Wednesday morning.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Sunday, April 4, 1993 - Acapulco
Arrived at the harbor entrance at the crack of dawn. Boy, has this place grown since we were here 3 years ago! The yacht club has expanded, there's a nice brand-new marina, buildings are going up right and left, there are ten times as many boats as there were before.
Roy pulled his usual stunt. I had gotten the anchor ready, thinking we were going to anchor out as we did before. Then we saw the new marina and began looking it over. I asked, "Shall I get the fenders and lines ready?" He said, "Not yet. I'm just looking around." Moments later he was pulling the boat up to a dock, and I was scrambling like crazy trying to get the fenders and lines ready. He drives me nuts!
The marina office was closed, so we helped ourselves to a convenient slip. Two attendants came dashing over to take our lines. Boy, what service!
This place is expensive, but not quite as high as San Lucas. It will be about $30 a night for our boat. Trouble is, they haven't finished building it yet, so there are no showers or restrooms.
Roy took a nap in the morning, while I plotted our course to Puerto Madero. After lunch, I tried to nap, but even though I'd been up since 3 a.m., I couldn't sleep. Never could sleep during the day, unless I was sick.
Roy located and stopped a small leak. Then we got in our Royaks and paddled around. It was so refreshing! The water's cooler than it was 3 years ago, but still plenty warm for swimming. We pulled up on the beach and swam for a while. Sure felt good.
Returned to the boat, rinsed with fresh water, got dressed, and caught a bus to town. This is the start of Holy Week, so the town is packed with tens of thousands of Mexican vacationers. Over a million people live here. This is a very large metropolitan area. There is a constant stream of traffic--cars, buses, taxis, and horse-drawn carriages gaily decorated with balloons. The sidewalks are packed with throngs of people, all in holiday mood. No sleepy village this; everything is hustle and bustle.
We walked several blocks looking for a cambio but didn't find one, so Roy used a $5 bill to treat us to ice cream. Then we crossed the street and found a cambio that was open, so I cashed $200 worth of travelers' checks. We looked for a Larga Distancia (long-distance) office, but ended up in a new department store that would rival any in the U.S., so Roy bought a comfortable pair of walking shoes to replace his old worn-out shoes.
Went to the Gigante super market and bought a few groceries, but to our surprise, they had no fresh milk! Returned to the boat.
Roy pulled his usual stunt. I had gotten the anchor ready, thinking we were going to anchor out as we did before. Then we saw the new marina and began looking it over. I asked, "Shall I get the fenders and lines ready?" He said, "Not yet. I'm just looking around." Moments later he was pulling the boat up to a dock, and I was scrambling like crazy trying to get the fenders and lines ready. He drives me nuts!
The marina office was closed, so we helped ourselves to a convenient slip. Two attendants came dashing over to take our lines. Boy, what service!
This place is expensive, but not quite as high as San Lucas. It will be about $30 a night for our boat. Trouble is, they haven't finished building it yet, so there are no showers or restrooms.
Roy took a nap in the morning, while I plotted our course to Puerto Madero. After lunch, I tried to nap, but even though I'd been up since 3 a.m., I couldn't sleep. Never could sleep during the day, unless I was sick.
Roy located and stopped a small leak. Then we got in our Royaks and paddled around. It was so refreshing! The water's cooler than it was 3 years ago, but still plenty warm for swimming. We pulled up on the beach and swam for a while. Sure felt good.
Returned to the boat, rinsed with fresh water, got dressed, and caught a bus to town. This is the start of Holy Week, so the town is packed with tens of thousands of Mexican vacationers. Over a million people live here. This is a very large metropolitan area. There is a constant stream of traffic--cars, buses, taxis, and horse-drawn carriages gaily decorated with balloons. The sidewalks are packed with throngs of people, all in holiday mood. No sleepy village this; everything is hustle and bustle.
We walked several blocks looking for a cambio but didn't find one, so Roy used a $5 bill to treat us to ice cream. Then we crossed the street and found a cambio that was open, so I cashed $200 worth of travelers' checks. We looked for a Larga Distancia (long-distance) office, but ended up in a new department store that would rival any in the U.S., so Roy bought a comfortable pair of walking shoes to replace his old worn-out shoes.
Went to the Gigante super market and bought a few groceries, but to our surprise, they had no fresh milk! Returned to the boat.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Saturday, April 3, 1993 - On way, Acapulco
We decided not to stop in Zihuatanejo after all. It would just be a waste of time. We wouldn't be able to check in and out until Monday, and we don't need fuel or groceries. We'll be in Acapulco tomorrow.
In fact, we'd have arrived in Acapulco in the middle of the night if we hadn't slowed down. We turned off the engine, raised the sails, and meandered along pleasantly and lazily at 4 knots. Another delightful day.
In fact, we'd have arrived in Acapulco in the middle of the night if we hadn't slowed down. We turned off the engine, raised the sails, and meandered along pleasantly and lazily at 4 knots. Another delightful day.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Friday, April 2, 1993 - On way, Acapulco
Passed Manzanillo in the middle of the night. Quite a few big ships in the area. On Roy's watch, one went by 1 1/2 miles away on his left while another was going by 1 1/2 miles to his right! Glad it was his watch.
The day was lazy and relaxing. A little breeze to help push us along, but not strong enough for speed, so we used the engine, too. Charlie, the auto-pilot, has been working flawlessly, so we just kick back and relax while he does all the work. We're enjoying the warm sun, the caressing breeze, the gentle ocean, the rugged mountains in the background.
By now, you readers are probably bored silly. Just one delightful day after another. Bet you're wishing we'd get clobbered by a storm or be attacked by monster whales or one of us would fall overboard in the middle of the night. Sorry, folks. If you want excitement, watch TV. We're enjoyin'.
Well, okay, so there was a little excitement today. About 4:30 in the afternoon, Roy's fishing reel started whirring. Roy was fast asleep, but he woke up instantly when I yelled, "Fish!" He reeled it in, while I got the net ready. We caught a beautiful seven-pound tuna, all silvery and shiny.
While Roy was cleaning it, the reel started whirring again, and he pulled in another, slightly larger tuna! After not having a bite for days, he caught two fish within fifteen minutes of each other!
Fortunately, he didn't put the line out a third time; we already have a week's supply of fish. Good thing the refrigerator works off DC now.
The day was lazy and relaxing. A little breeze to help push us along, but not strong enough for speed, so we used the engine, too. Charlie, the auto-pilot, has been working flawlessly, so we just kick back and relax while he does all the work. We're enjoying the warm sun, the caressing breeze, the gentle ocean, the rugged mountains in the background.
By now, you readers are probably bored silly. Just one delightful day after another. Bet you're wishing we'd get clobbered by a storm or be attacked by monster whales or one of us would fall overboard in the middle of the night. Sorry, folks. If you want excitement, watch TV. We're enjoyin'.
Well, okay, so there was a little excitement today. About 4:30 in the afternoon, Roy's fishing reel started whirring. Roy was fast asleep, but he woke up instantly when I yelled, "Fish!" He reeled it in, while I got the net ready. We caught a beautiful seven-pound tuna, all silvery and shiny.
While Roy was cleaning it, the reel started whirring again, and he pulled in another, slightly larger tuna! After not having a bite for days, he caught two fish within fifteen minutes of each other!
Fortunately, he didn't put the line out a third time; we already have a week's supply of fish. Good thing the refrigerator works off DC now.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Thursday, April 1, 1993 - On way, Acapulco
Roy April-fooled me again!
We're making good time. Motored all night but were able to sail most of the day. Had to tack a lot, though.
It's shorts and T-shirt weather. (For Roy, it's just shorts.) Couldn't be a nicer temperature. Warm and balmy without being hot.
We're making good time. Motored all night but were able to sail most of the day. Had to tack a lot, though.
It's shorts and T-shirt weather. (For Roy, it's just shorts.) Couldn't be a nicer temperature. Warm and balmy without being hot.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Wednesday, March 31, 1993 - On Way
Made out our "check-out" crew list. Walked over to the shopping mall and had six copies run off. Bought a ton of groceries, which Roy pulled back to the boat in our little blue wagon. Then we started on our check-out rounds. Everything went relatively smoothly and quickly. One poor gringo was having a rough time in the Migracion office because he'd lost one of his papers. He'd been there at least an hour and was still there when we left.
While we were downtown, we went by Pro Essa and bought three quart bottles of propane. (The generator doesn't work, so we have to cook on the little propane stove.) We also crossed the bridge and bought a pound of fresh fish at the fish market.
Returned to the boat, ate lunch, and walked over to the dock-
master's office to pay our bill. Unfortunately, it was closed for siesta, so we went over to the Opequimar marine supply store. The "priceless" generator of 1990 was gone. They didn't have anything we wanted, except some popsicles in a freezer, so we each got a pink one. Delicious!
It was about 3:15 when we returned to the dockmaster's office. It was still closed, but a nice young man unlocked the door and accepted our money.
On the way back to the boat, we sat in the shade and ate two scoops of ice cream.
Roy hosed off the windows on the boat and filled the water tank. Took the boat to the fuel dock. Filled the tank and the jerry cans with diesel. Also filled the gasoline can with gas for the generator that doesn't work. Barely had enough money to pay for it. Then we took off for Zihuatanejo.
While we were downtown, we went by Pro Essa and bought three quart bottles of propane. (The generator doesn't work, so we have to cook on the little propane stove.) We also crossed the bridge and bought a pound of fresh fish at the fish market.
Returned to the boat, ate lunch, and walked over to the dock-
master's office to pay our bill. Unfortunately, it was closed for siesta, so we went over to the Opequimar marine supply store. The "priceless" generator of 1990 was gone. They didn't have anything we wanted, except some popsicles in a freezer, so we each got a pink one. Delicious!
It was about 3:15 when we returned to the dockmaster's office. It was still closed, but a nice young man unlocked the door and accepted our money.
On the way back to the boat, we sat in the shade and ate two scoops of ice cream.
Roy hosed off the windows on the boat and filled the water tank. Took the boat to the fuel dock. Filled the tank and the jerry cans with diesel. Also filled the gasoline can with gas for the generator that doesn't work. Barely had enough money to pay for it. Then we took off for Zihuatanejo.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Tuesday, March 30, 1993 - Puerto Vallarta, Mexico
Steve and Alison arrived around noon, after being taken on a wild goose chase by a cab driver who seemed unable to comprehend where the marina is.
We sailed and motored to Yelapa, which is a tiny, primitive fishing village about 14 miles from Puerto Vallarta. There are no roads, no cars, no electricity. The only ways to get there are by boat or by burro.
It's difficult to anchor at Yelapa, because the water's very deep except along the shore, but we finally found a place between two other sailboats.
Steve and Alison paddled ashore in the Royaks, while Roy and I relaxed on the boat. Unfortunately, when I took Roy's waders out of his Royak, one of his cuffs fell overboard, and we were unable to retrieve it.
When Steve and Alison got back, we ate supper and then headed back to Puerto Vallarta. It was pitch dark when we got there, but Roy had no problem finding the entrance. The marina was well lighted and totally calm, so we got into our slip easily.
Steve and Alison returned to their hotel by cab. Roy and I strolled around a while. It was a lovely evening.
We sailed and motored to Yelapa, which is a tiny, primitive fishing village about 14 miles from Puerto Vallarta. There are no roads, no cars, no electricity. The only ways to get there are by boat or by burro.
It's difficult to anchor at Yelapa, because the water's very deep except along the shore, but we finally found a place between two other sailboats.
Steve and Alison paddled ashore in the Royaks, while Roy and I relaxed on the boat. Unfortunately, when I took Roy's waders out of his Royak, one of his cuffs fell overboard, and we were unable to retrieve it.
When Steve and Alison got back, we ate supper and then headed back to Puerto Vallarta. It was pitch dark when we got there, but Roy had no problem finding the entrance. The marina was well lighted and totally calm, so we got into our slip easily.
Steve and Alison returned to their hotel by cab. Roy and I strolled around a while. It was a lovely evening.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Monday, March 29, 1993 - Puerto Vallarta, Mexico
Got up at the first crack of dawn to move the boat. Were surprised to see so many people up and about so early, but later we found out the time here is an hour ahead of Cabo San Lucas time, so now we're two hours ahead of California time.
While I was cranking up the anchor, a guy in a panga came by and said something in Spanish that I interpreted as meaning we couldn't keep the boat there, so I said, "Si. Vamos." (Yes. We're going.) Guess it was the right answer, because he left.
Threaded our way through the crowded channel into the marina. This place has really grown since we were here 3 years ago. Lots of new buildings and docks. Looks a lot better.
We thought there were megabuck yachts in Cabo San Lucas, but this place is unreal. There's even a yacht so large that it has a helicopter on its upper deck and a big TV dish on its bow! I kid you not.
The rates here are half what they were in San Lucas--about $18 a day. They've remodeled the showers and restrooms, too. Much better.
After getting signed up at the marina, we walked over to the highway and caught a bus to the Port Captain's office. The bus fare has tripled since 1990. It's now 900 old pesos instead of 300.
Fortunately, the offices are still in the same place, so we didn't have any trouble finding them.
After checking in, we wandered around looking for propane. Ate lunch at a little restaurant. The fresh-squeezed orange juice was delicious, but the omelettes were more like pancakes.
After lunch, we went to Baskin-Robbins for ice cream. The posted menu for sundaes and specialties listed: "Banana Split, Muy Banana, Banana Royal." I asked for Muy Banana. The clerk looked puzzled. She asked, "Banana split?" I said, "No. Muy Banana." She asked, "Banana Royal?" I said, "No. Muy Banana." She asked, "Banana split?" This went on for 5 or 10 minutes. We never did figure out why she kept skipping over "Muy Banana" on the menu. A gringo who was fluent in Spanish even came over and tried to explain it to her, but she just didn't comprehend. Eventually, another clerk gave me what I wanted. And it was delicious.
We finally found the propane place, but it was closed for siesta.
Steve and Alison were due to arrive via Alaska Airlines at 4:15, so we took the bus to the airport. These old buses with their metal seats go bumping and bouncing over the cobblestones. It's a wonder they don't fall apart. They don't seem to have springs or shock absorbers.
While we were waiting for the plane, which was late, we wandered around the shopping center and actually found instant oatmeal! Bought two boxes. Drank some orange juice at a clean, attractive McDonald's.
Steve and Alison arrived a little after five. We took a cab to their hotel, which is a very nice one, right on the beach. After Steve and Alison got settled, we strolled along the beach in the twilight. Stopped at an open-air restaurant for supper. Had a table right next to the beach. Enjoyed the warm breeze, the setting sun, and the sound of the surf. The food was delicious, and the service excellent. A group of strolling musicians serenaded us. What a delightful evening!
After supper, we went up to their room to get Roy's mail, which Steve had brought down. Unfortunately, my letters to Chodar had been returned, marked "Addressee Unknown". Since he's supposed to be on parole, I'd say he's in major trouble. Maybe he's skipped the country.
Steve and Alison want to visit Yelapa, so we're going to take them down there tomorrow.
While I was cranking up the anchor, a guy in a panga came by and said something in Spanish that I interpreted as meaning we couldn't keep the boat there, so I said, "Si. Vamos." (Yes. We're going.) Guess it was the right answer, because he left.
Threaded our way through the crowded channel into the marina. This place has really grown since we were here 3 years ago. Lots of new buildings and docks. Looks a lot better.
We thought there were megabuck yachts in Cabo San Lucas, but this place is unreal. There's even a yacht so large that it has a helicopter on its upper deck and a big TV dish on its bow! I kid you not.
The rates here are half what they were in San Lucas--about $18 a day. They've remodeled the showers and restrooms, too. Much better.
After getting signed up at the marina, we walked over to the highway and caught a bus to the Port Captain's office. The bus fare has tripled since 1990. It's now 900 old pesos instead of 300.
Fortunately, the offices are still in the same place, so we didn't have any trouble finding them.
After checking in, we wandered around looking for propane. Ate lunch at a little restaurant. The fresh-squeezed orange juice was delicious, but the omelettes were more like pancakes.
After lunch, we went to Baskin-Robbins for ice cream. The posted menu for sundaes and specialties listed: "Banana Split, Muy Banana, Banana Royal." I asked for Muy Banana. The clerk looked puzzled. She asked, "Banana split?" I said, "No. Muy Banana." She asked, "Banana Royal?" I said, "No. Muy Banana." She asked, "Banana split?" This went on for 5 or 10 minutes. We never did figure out why she kept skipping over "Muy Banana" on the menu. A gringo who was fluent in Spanish even came over and tried to explain it to her, but she just didn't comprehend. Eventually, another clerk gave me what I wanted. And it was delicious.
We finally found the propane place, but it was closed for siesta.
Steve and Alison were due to arrive via Alaska Airlines at 4:15, so we took the bus to the airport. These old buses with their metal seats go bumping and bouncing over the cobblestones. It's a wonder they don't fall apart. They don't seem to have springs or shock absorbers.
While we were waiting for the plane, which was late, we wandered around the shopping center and actually found instant oatmeal! Bought two boxes. Drank some orange juice at a clean, attractive McDonald's.
Steve and Alison arrived a little after five. We took a cab to their hotel, which is a very nice one, right on the beach. After Steve and Alison got settled, we strolled along the beach in the twilight. Stopped at an open-air restaurant for supper. Had a table right next to the beach. Enjoyed the warm breeze, the setting sun, and the sound of the surf. The food was delicious, and the service excellent. A group of strolling musicians serenaded us. What a delightful evening!
After supper, we went up to their room to get Roy's mail, which Steve had brought down. Unfortunately, my letters to Chodar had been returned, marked "Addressee Unknown". Since he's supposed to be on parole, I'd say he's in major trouble. Maybe he's skipped the country.
Steve and Alison want to visit Yelapa, so we're going to take them down there tomorrow.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Sunday, March 28, 1993 - Puerto Vallarta, Mexico
Passed the Islas Tres Marias early this morning. We could just barely make them out at a distance. The Mexicans have a penal colony there, so boats have to stay well clear.
What an absolutely perfect day! Temperature ideal. Water calm. Gentle breeze. Sailing nicely at 4-5 knots. Paradise!
We've been getting a lot of good weather reports from the ham nets, which is what we bought the short-wave radio for in the first place. All my efforts to get licensed are really paying off.
Arrived in Puerto Vallarta in the middle of the night, as we did the first time we came here, three years ago. Had a hard time finding a place to anchor. Even 1/8 mile from shore it was still very deep. Ended up anchoring about 100 yards from the beach. We could hear the pounding surf, and we were rolling in the swells. It was sort of scary, and if we hadn't been so tired, we'd have probably taken turns sitting up all night, but we slept like logs.
What an absolutely perfect day! Temperature ideal. Water calm. Gentle breeze. Sailing nicely at 4-5 knots. Paradise!
We've been getting a lot of good weather reports from the ham nets, which is what we bought the short-wave radio for in the first place. All my efforts to get licensed are really paying off.
Arrived in Puerto Vallarta in the middle of the night, as we did the first time we came here, three years ago. Had a hard time finding a place to anchor. Even 1/8 mile from shore it was still very deep. Ended up anchoring about 100 yards from the beach. We could hear the pounding surf, and we were rolling in the swells. It was sort of scary, and if we hadn't been so tired, we'd have probably taken turns sitting up all night, but we slept like logs.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Saturday, March 27, 1993 - On Way, Puerto Vallarta
Motored all night and all morning. Around noon, a favorable wind came up and we were able to sail, zooming along at 6, 7, sometimes even 8 knots, which is well above hull speed. Perfect! We might be able to make it to Puerto Vallarta without the extra fuel after all, but we certainly feel a lot better knowing it's there if we need it.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Friday, March 26, 1993 - On Way, Puerto Vallarta
We really blew it, but good. Don't know how we could have been so dumb as to count on the wind blowing the way we wanted it to. "The wind bloweth where it listeth."
The day started off beautifully. The wind, which had been blowing like crazy ever since we got here, died down enough for us to swing the boat around into the adjacent slip, bow out. We listened to several nets, and all the weather reports were favorable. The sun was shining, the air was clear and warm and caressing, everything was perfect. We walked over to the post office and mailed some postcards. Made the "check-out" rounds without a hitch. Treated ourselves to ice cream, ate lunch, returned the keys, and took off.
As soon as we got outside the breakwater, we realized we'd goofed. There was almost no wind at all, and what little there was, was totally erratic. It was impossible to sail. There we were, starting out on a 300-mile trip across open ocean with enough fuel to go maybe 240 miles if we were lucky. Dum da dum dum. We kept struggling for a couple of hours and got nowhere, so we finally made the sensible decision to return to San Lucas and get diesel.
We spared ourselves the humiliation of returning to the marina by anchoring in the harbor and taking a water taxi to the dock. Then we took a land taxi to the Pemex station and filled our six diesel cans. Returned the same way.
So we wasted the entire afternoon, but now we have enough fuel to get to Puerto Vallarta, even if we have to motor the entire way (as we probably will.) Thank goodness we had sense enough to turn back after 6 or 7 miles instead of waiting until we'd gone 100.
The day started off beautifully. The wind, which had been blowing like crazy ever since we got here, died down enough for us to swing the boat around into the adjacent slip, bow out. We listened to several nets, and all the weather reports were favorable. The sun was shining, the air was clear and warm and caressing, everything was perfect. We walked over to the post office and mailed some postcards. Made the "check-out" rounds without a hitch. Treated ourselves to ice cream, ate lunch, returned the keys, and took off.
As soon as we got outside the breakwater, we realized we'd goofed. There was almost no wind at all, and what little there was, was totally erratic. It was impossible to sail. There we were, starting out on a 300-mile trip across open ocean with enough fuel to go maybe 240 miles if we were lucky. Dum da dum dum. We kept struggling for a couple of hours and got nowhere, so we finally made the sensible decision to return to San Lucas and get diesel.
We spared ourselves the humiliation of returning to the marina by anchoring in the harbor and taking a water taxi to the dock. Then we took a land taxi to the Pemex station and filled our six diesel cans. Returned the same way.
So we wasted the entire afternoon, but now we have enough fuel to get to Puerto Vallarta, even if we have to motor the entire way (as we probably will.) Thank goodness we had sense enough to turn back after 6 or 7 miles instead of waiting until we'd gone 100.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Thursday, March 25, 1993 - Cabo San Lucas, Mexico
Spent the morning doing the laundry. In the afternoon, we went on a futile diesel run. You'd think a fancy marina like this would have a fuel dock, but it doesn't. Roy pulled the wagon with two empty jerry cans on it over to the Pemex station where we used to get diesel, but they don't carry it any more. The attendant told us we could get diesel at the other Pemex, which is on the road to La Paz and about one kilometer away, so we began walking in that direction. After 1 1/2 kilometers, we asked someone else and were told it was a kilometer away. At that point, we decided we didn't really need extra diesel after all. There was a strong wind blowing, so we'd be able to sail all the way to Puerto Vallarta, and we had a full tank.
Saw a little barber shop, so Roy got his hair cut. Bought a few groceries.
Roy phoned Steve and confirmed his plans to meet us in Puerto Vallarta. I talked with Nancy on the phone, but wasn't able to reach Kathy.
Saw a little barber shop, so Roy got his hair cut. Bought a few groceries.
Roy phoned Steve and confirmed his plans to meet us in Puerto Vallarta. I talked with Nancy on the phone, but wasn't able to reach Kathy.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Wednesday, March 24, 1993 - Cabo San Lucas, Mexico
Awoke to a pleasant 12-knot breeze straight out of the east. Jofian was sailing along smoothly at 6 knots, under mainsail, headsail, and mizzen. What a delightful climax to our trip to Cabo San Lucas!
As we approached Cabo Falso, a northbound U.S. sailboat hailed us on the VHF. We chatted for several minutes. They gave us some useful information about the new marina and asked us about the weather on the way down.
Very windy as we approached Cabo San Lucas. We decided to splurge and stay at the brand new marina instead of anchoring out and bouncing around.
The new marina is as good as any in the U.S. Clean, sturdy, floating cement docks with electricity, water, and satellite TV. Attractive modern restrooms, showers, and laundry rooms. And prices to match. We're paying $35 a night! That's a lot more than we ever paid at the fanciest place in the U.S., but we'll only be here two nights, and it's the first place we've tied up at since leaving San Diego.
After settling in at the marina, we made the usual rounds of Port Captain, Immigration, and Customs. The offices are still in the same places, but they've greatly streamlined the procedures. We got through the whole thing in less than two hours. Our "friend" is no longer at Customs, thank goodness. The guy who's there now whisked us through in nothing flat, no questions asked.
Went back to the boat and ate lunch. Then we strolled around town for a while. Ate some yummy ice cream at Baskin-Robbins. Bought orange juice, milk, and bananas.
It's so WARM here! If it weren't for the wind, it would be too hot.
There's a so-called super-market at the marina. It's smaller than most 7-11's, and it's strictly ripoff-ville. Only dumb gringos would pay their prices. They charged us the equivalent of $12 for two packages of cookies. Ridiculoso! We'll never go there again.
As we approached Cabo Falso, a northbound U.S. sailboat hailed us on the VHF. We chatted for several minutes. They gave us some useful information about the new marina and asked us about the weather on the way down.
Very windy as we approached Cabo San Lucas. We decided to splurge and stay at the brand new marina instead of anchoring out and bouncing around.
The new marina is as good as any in the U.S. Clean, sturdy, floating cement docks with electricity, water, and satellite TV. Attractive modern restrooms, showers, and laundry rooms. And prices to match. We're paying $35 a night! That's a lot more than we ever paid at the fanciest place in the U.S., but we'll only be here two nights, and it's the first place we've tied up at since leaving San Diego.
After settling in at the marina, we made the usual rounds of Port Captain, Immigration, and Customs. The offices are still in the same places, but they've greatly streamlined the procedures. We got through the whole thing in less than two hours. Our "friend" is no longer at Customs, thank goodness. The guy who's there now whisked us through in nothing flat, no questions asked.
Went back to the boat and ate lunch. Then we strolled around town for a while. Ate some yummy ice cream at Baskin-Robbins. Bought orange juice, milk, and bananas.
It's so WARM here! If it weren't for the wind, it would be too hot.
There's a so-called super-market at the marina. It's smaller than most 7-11's, and it's strictly ripoff-ville. Only dumb gringos would pay their prices. They charged us the equivalent of $12 for two packages of cookies. Ridiculoso! We'll never go there again.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Tuesday, March 23, 1993 - Mexico
Even though we now have lots of fish, Roy put out a line for halibut last night, and lo! he caught one! About a ten-pounder. So now we have enough fish for a week. Either feast or famine.
Actually, we're not sure if it's halibut, skate, or flounder, but it's some kind of flatfish, with his eyeballs on top. Tastes good whatever it is.
Very calm today. Had to motor continuously. Fortunately, we still have plenty of fuel.
Actually, we're not sure if it's halibut, skate, or flounder, but it's some kind of flatfish, with his eyeballs on top. Tastes good whatever it is.
Very calm today. Had to motor continuously. Fortunately, we still have plenty of fuel.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Monday, March 22, 1993 - Bahia Magdalena, Mexico
Boy, what a good night's sleep! Slept like logs for 9 hours.
An absolutely perfect day! The air is so clean and fresh. The temperature is ideal. The water is so clean and clear, I could see 30-40 feet down the anchor chain.
While Roy changed the oil, I stayed out of his hair by going Royaking. This is an isolated, almost deserted area. No towns, no villages. Just a few fishermen's huts. Windswept, desolate hills shelter us from the ocean. Saw some pelicans, cormorants, Garibaldi fish, and a large porpoise swimming along. There was a small fishing boat in the distance and a hut on the beach, but no other sign of life.
After lunch, we sailed 17 miles to Bahia Magdalena and dropped anchor for the night. It was ideal sailing. Just enough wind to push us along at 4 knots. Used the headsail, main, and mizzen. The warm air caressed our skin. A perfect day!
As we entered the bay, a panga (motorboat) with five fishermen in it came close to us. I called, "Hola!" One of the men held up a fish. I said, "Pescado. Bueno." (Fish. Good.) Roy held up a small bag of candy, and I said, "Dulce." (Candy.) The panga pulled alongside the Jofian, and the man began tossing fish onto the deck. He threw half a dozen, but one hit the lifeline and ricocheted into the water. Roy threw them the bag of candy. They smiled broadly and zoomed off, certain they'd gotten the best of the bargain. Five fresh fish for a nickel's worth of candy! Whatta deal!
An absolutely perfect day! The air is so clean and fresh. The temperature is ideal. The water is so clean and clear, I could see 30-40 feet down the anchor chain.
While Roy changed the oil, I stayed out of his hair by going Royaking. This is an isolated, almost deserted area. No towns, no villages. Just a few fishermen's huts. Windswept, desolate hills shelter us from the ocean. Saw some pelicans, cormorants, Garibaldi fish, and a large porpoise swimming along. There was a small fishing boat in the distance and a hut on the beach, but no other sign of life.
After lunch, we sailed 17 miles to Bahia Magdalena and dropped anchor for the night. It was ideal sailing. Just enough wind to push us along at 4 knots. Used the headsail, main, and mizzen. The warm air caressed our skin. A perfect day!
As we entered the bay, a panga (motorboat) with five fishermen in it came close to us. I called, "Hola!" One of the men held up a fish. I said, "Pescado. Bueno." (Fish. Good.) Roy held up a small bag of candy, and I said, "Dulce." (Candy.) The panga pulled alongside the Jofian, and the man began tossing fish onto the deck. He threw half a dozen, but one hit the lifeline and ricocheted into the water. Roy threw them the bag of candy. They smiled broadly and zoomed off, certain they'd gotten the best of the bargain. Five fresh fish for a nickel's worth of candy! Whatta deal!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Sunday, March 21, 1993 - Bahia Santa Maria, Mexico
Started the day with a little excitement. Roy had just gone to sleep, and I had taken over the 0600 watch, when I noticed the trolling line whirring out. Woke Roy, and he began reeling in the line, while I crawled into the lazarette to get the net, which was buried under everything under the sun, including the 100-foot Panama Canal lines. Long before I was able to retrieve the net, Roy had the line reeled in, but there was nothing on it, so he let it out again and went back to sleep.
Not ten minutes later, the line started zooming out again, so I woke Roy and he reeled it in again, but there was nothing on it again. So poor Roy got waked out of a sound sleep twice for nothing. It's a good thing we have plenty of canned sardines.
Lovely warm day, but no wind to speak of, so we motorsailed all day. The oil needed changing, so we decided to go into Bahia Santa Maria and anchor for the night. It was pitch dark when we got there, but it's an easy bay to get into. No rocks, no shoals, no reefs, no buoys, no boats. The radar took us in easy as pie, and we anchored behind the point in 27 feet of water.
Not ten minutes later, the line started zooming out again, so I woke Roy and he reeled it in again, but there was nothing on it again. So poor Roy got waked out of a sound sleep twice for nothing. It's a good thing we have plenty of canned sardines.
Lovely warm day, but no wind to speak of, so we motorsailed all day. The oil needed changing, so we decided to go into Bahia Santa Maria and anchor for the night. It was pitch dark when we got there, but it's an easy bay to get into. No rocks, no shoals, no reefs, no buoys, no boats. The radar took us in easy as pie, and we anchored behind the point in 27 feet of water.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Saturday, March 20, 1993 - Mexico
Much better day today. Nothing spilled. Nothing broke. Our colds are gone, and we feel great. Cruising must be good for us.
We're averaging about 130 miles a day and are more than halfway to Cabo San Lucas. Still have the wind and waves pushing us.
Shortly after supper, I saw a freighter bearing down on us. He was 5 miles away and moving fast. And he was BIG. Could see his lights as well as seeing him on radar. When he was 3 miles away, I tried to contact him on VHF. Tried several channels, but no response. Then Roy tried to contact him, with no better luck. When he was 2 miles away, Roy told me to make a 90-degree turn and head west, so I did. For a few minutes, the freighter seemed to be standing still, but then he gradually began receding, and I began breathing again. I resumed our course, and the freighter passed well to port.
Had a rocky-rolly, bouncy night.
We're averaging about 130 miles a day and are more than halfway to Cabo San Lucas. Still have the wind and waves pushing us.
Shortly after supper, I saw a freighter bearing down on us. He was 5 miles away and moving fast. And he was BIG. Could see his lights as well as seeing him on radar. When he was 3 miles away, I tried to contact him on VHF. Tried several channels, but no response. Then Roy tried to contact him, with no better luck. When he was 2 miles away, Roy told me to make a 90-degree turn and head west, so I did. For a few minutes, the freighter seemed to be standing still, but then he gradually began receding, and I began breathing again. I resumed our course, and the freighter passed well to port.
Had a rocky-rolly, bouncy night.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Friday, March 19, 1993 - Mexico
This was not my day. Everything I touched turned to goosh.
First, I tried the experiment of making the oatmeal with ocean water. After all, you add a little salt to oatmeal anyway, right? Naturally, I couldn't just mix up one bowl and taste it; no, I had to mix both bowls before tasting. Eeeeeaaagh! So I had to dump both bowlfuls of oatmeal overboard.
Later, we were listening to the Manana Net. Suddenly, Roy said, "Someone's calling the Jofian!" I signed on, and sure enough, Roy's brother Ken was trying to contact us. He told me to go down "five KC." (You make contact on the net and then go to another frequency to converse.) I wasn't sure what "KC" meant, but I didn't want to admit my ignorance in front of all the listening hams, so I said, "OK. Going down five," just as if I knew what I was talking about.
First, I tried going down 5 megahertz, but I immediately realized that couldn't be right. Then I tried 500 kilohertz, thinking the "C" might stand for 100, as it sometimes does. (After I regained my sanity, I realized "KC" must mean "kilocycles", but at the time, all I could think of was "Kentucky Fried Chicken".) After dialing futilely all over the place, I gave up and went back to the net. Ken had given up, too, so we got together again on the net. This time, he told me to go to "14,330 and down", so I did. Someone else was talking on 14,330. I dialed down a ways, but never did find Ken. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.
My crowning achievement came when I tried to fix a can of soup for lunch. Such a simple thing!
I learned two important lessons:
1. On a boat, always serve soup in a cup, not a bowl.
2. Never set anything on a counter and expect it to stay there.
But I hadn't learned those lessons yet, so I got out two bowls, heated a can of green pea soup in a pan on the propane stove, and put half of it in one bowl, which I offered to Roy, who was at the wheel. But he told me to eat my soup first, while he steered the boat; then he'd eat his soup, while I steered. (It was almost time for watch change.) Obviously, the sensible thing would have been for me to eat the bowl of soup I was holding in my hand, but no, that was Roy's soup, so I set that bowl on the counter and poured the rest of the soup into the other bowl. I hadn't eaten two spoonfuls when zwoosh! --the bowl on the counter went flying across the galley, strewing its contents hither and yon.
It's bad enough to make a stupid mistake once, but to make the same stupid mistake twice in a row takes some kind of prize. I set my bowl of soup down on the counter so I could clean up the mess. Instantly, that bowl went flying across the galley, adding its contents to the pile of peasoup on the floor, the walls, the cupboards, the upholstery, the counter, my jeans, and just about everything else in sight. What an awful mess!
By then, it was time to change watches, so Roy cleaned up the mess, while I steered the boat. That man has more patience than Job!
Then he heated another can of peasoup and served it in cups.
First, I tried the experiment of making the oatmeal with ocean water. After all, you add a little salt to oatmeal anyway, right? Naturally, I couldn't just mix up one bowl and taste it; no, I had to mix both bowls before tasting. Eeeeeaaagh! So I had to dump both bowlfuls of oatmeal overboard.
Later, we were listening to the Manana Net. Suddenly, Roy said, "Someone's calling the Jofian!" I signed on, and sure enough, Roy's brother Ken was trying to contact us. He told me to go down "five KC." (You make contact on the net and then go to another frequency to converse.) I wasn't sure what "KC" meant, but I didn't want to admit my ignorance in front of all the listening hams, so I said, "OK. Going down five," just as if I knew what I was talking about.
First, I tried going down 5 megahertz, but I immediately realized that couldn't be right. Then I tried 500 kilohertz, thinking the "C" might stand for 100, as it sometimes does. (After I regained my sanity, I realized "KC" must mean "kilocycles", but at the time, all I could think of was "Kentucky Fried Chicken".) After dialing futilely all over the place, I gave up and went back to the net. Ken had given up, too, so we got together again on the net. This time, he told me to go to "14,330 and down", so I did. Someone else was talking on 14,330. I dialed down a ways, but never did find Ken. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.
My crowning achievement came when I tried to fix a can of soup for lunch. Such a simple thing!
I learned two important lessons:
1. On a boat, always serve soup in a cup, not a bowl.
2. Never set anything on a counter and expect it to stay there.
But I hadn't learned those lessons yet, so I got out two bowls, heated a can of green pea soup in a pan on the propane stove, and put half of it in one bowl, which I offered to Roy, who was at the wheel. But he told me to eat my soup first, while he steered the boat; then he'd eat his soup, while I steered. (It was almost time for watch change.) Obviously, the sensible thing would have been for me to eat the bowl of soup I was holding in my hand, but no, that was Roy's soup, so I set that bowl on the counter and poured the rest of the soup into the other bowl. I hadn't eaten two spoonfuls when zwoosh! --the bowl on the counter went flying across the galley, strewing its contents hither and yon.
It's bad enough to make a stupid mistake once, but to make the same stupid mistake twice in a row takes some kind of prize. I set my bowl of soup down on the counter so I could clean up the mess. Instantly, that bowl went flying across the galley, adding its contents to the pile of peasoup on the floor, the walls, the cupboards, the upholstery, the counter, my jeans, and just about everything else in sight. What an awful mess!
By then, it was time to change watches, so Roy cleaned up the mess, while I steered the boat. That man has more patience than Job!
Then he heated another can of peasoup and served it in cups.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Thursday, March 18, 1993 - Mexico
All the nice people who wished us "fair winds and following seas" must have made an impression on Mother Nature, because that's exactly what we've been having every day since we left San Diego.
Today was absolutely perfect. Just the right amount of wind going in the right direction. Warm sunshine. Gentle waves pushing us along. The kind of day that answers the question, "Why go cruising?"
We covered 137 miles in the first 24 hours. Amazing! If this keeps up, we'll be in San Lucas in less than a week.
Listened to both the Baja Net and the Manana Net. Found out the Baja Net gives the weather for the entire West Coast of Mexico, so that's good to know.
Today was absolutely perfect. Just the right amount of wind going in the right direction. Warm sunshine. Gentle waves pushing us along. The kind of day that answers the question, "Why go cruising?"
We covered 137 miles in the first 24 hours. Amazing! If this keeps up, we'll be in San Lucas in less than a week.
Listened to both the Baja Net and the Manana Net. Found out the Baja Net gives the weather for the entire West Coast of Mexico, so that's good to know.
Wednesday, March 17, 1993 - Mexico
We sailed at break of day! Well, not quite. Actually, we left the dock at 0705, but that's close enough.
Crossed the border about 10 o'clock.
Overcast sky all day, but warm. In the morning, there wasn't much wind, so we had to motor, but in the afternoon, we were able to sail with headsail and main.
Don't tell Roy, but I nearly went overboard this afternoon. I wouldn't have gone in the water, because my harness was attached to the jackline, but I could have ended up in a rather inconvenient situation. I was standing on the cabin top, trying to attach the halyard to the top of the mainsail, so I could raise it. A sudden large swell rocked the boat, and I flew backwards right against the shrouds. If the shrouds hadn't been there, I'd have probably ended up dangling upside down from the lifeline--a somewhat uncomfortable position. And I'd have been there quite a while, since Roy was taking a well-deserved nap.
Heard on the net that a container ship had run over the sailboat "Clambake" at 0230, near Puerto Vallarta. All three persons on board were rescued by the ship's crew and are now on their way to Atlanta. The sailboat's gone, of course. They were lucky the container ship even noticed it had hit them, let alone that the crew was able to find them in the dark. They had just left Puerto Vallarta on their way to the Marquesas and obviously weren't keeping a good watch.
Crossed the border about 10 o'clock.
Overcast sky all day, but warm. In the morning, there wasn't much wind, so we had to motor, but in the afternoon, we were able to sail with headsail and main.
Don't tell Roy, but I nearly went overboard this afternoon. I wouldn't have gone in the water, because my harness was attached to the jackline, but I could have ended up in a rather inconvenient situation. I was standing on the cabin top, trying to attach the halyard to the top of the mainsail, so I could raise it. A sudden large swell rocked the boat, and I flew backwards right against the shrouds. If the shrouds hadn't been there, I'd have probably ended up dangling upside down from the lifeline--a somewhat uncomfortable position. And I'd have been there quite a while, since Roy was taking a well-deserved nap.
Heard on the net that a container ship had run over the sailboat "Clambake" at 0230, near Puerto Vallarta. All three persons on board were rescued by the ship's crew and are now on their way to Atlanta. The sailboat's gone, of course. They were lucky the container ship even noticed it had hit them, let alone that the crew was able to find them in the dark. They had just left Puerto Vallarta on their way to the Marquesas and obviously weren't keeping a good watch.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Tuesday, March 16, 1993 - San Diego, CA
Roy ran some errands in the morning. Then we took our last good showers until we reach Florida, turned in the keys, and took the boat to the City Dock. After lunch, I bought a few more groceries and a couple of charts.
In the evening, Roy really surprised me. He had told me in the morning that we'd eat supper at the Soup Exchange in Chula Vista, so I was all set to go there. Even had the bus schedule in my pocket. Then, as we were walking to the bus stop, Roy suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me up the stairs to the Chart House! What a treat! It was a double celebration--we were celebrating our imminent departure, and it was also an early celebration of my birthday, since we'll probably be at sea on the real day. Had delicious chicken dinners, and then the waiter brought me a sundae with a burning candle in it.
After supper, we strolled around a while, enjoying the balmy air. What a lovely evening!
In the evening, Roy really surprised me. He had told me in the morning that we'd eat supper at the Soup Exchange in Chula Vista, so I was all set to go there. Even had the bus schedule in my pocket. Then, as we were walking to the bus stop, Roy suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me up the stairs to the Chart House! What a treat! It was a double celebration--we were celebrating our imminent departure, and it was also an early celebration of my birthday, since we'll probably be at sea on the real day. Had delicious chicken dinners, and then the waiter brought me a sundae with a burning candle in it.
After supper, we strolled around a while, enjoying the balmy air. What a lovely evening!
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