Bahia San Gabriel

I’ve been sitting here aboard Willow, shaking my head in disbelief, and thanking God for such a place.  It is warm, sunny and bright; the anchorage is well protected from the north wind, but not so much the southwesterlies (Coromuel), or westerlies.  I don’t care.  It’s beautiful.

I sailed up to the last mile on the approach to the cove.  There was a very strange opposing current thing going on, with opposite winds sending windwaves at each other, and their directions and flukiness made it difficult to sail the rest of the way in.  I watched my fathometer slowly dial up to the single digits, and watched the water change color with it.  At 13′, I dropped the hook and steadily backed down.  Snuggly caught, I put up the cockpit shade and made some lunch.  After enjoying a huge salad, I went back out to the cockpit and just looked.  The colors were surreal.  There were patches of water that looked almost neon green, but then patches of grass would darken the tone.  I was looking at my anchor 90′ away in the crystal clear water.  I really wanted to swim, but I’d had a recent ear issue, so thought I would wait another day or two.  Nearby, two friendly boats dropped their hooks: Brian and Elizabeth aboard the Autumn Wind, and Donna and David on the Selonah.  We all just grinned and looked at each other, amazed at the peace and the beauty.

The Southwest Side of the Bay

I stayed aboard for the rest of the day, doing chores and reading.  Hitting the sack early, there was a light southwesterly keeping me cool and the bugs away.  I woke up around 0130 for a look around.  The breeze was as calm as the water.  There were gazillions of stars, each one right THERE to touch.  I looked in the water, and saw an infinite number of diamonds floating and flashing as they went by.  Actually bioluminescence, these critters were especially bright in the moonless light.

I was up early this morning, had coffee, and checked weather on the computer and SSB radio.  Shortly after, I inflated my SUP, wiped down the decks, cleaned off the solar panels, and washed dishes.  Selonah came on by, saying their “See-ya’s” and heading off to San Evaristo about 40 nm up the peninsula.  I packed my camera in a towel and a dry bag, secured it to the SUP, and headed for shore.  It’s about a mile away, but what a paddle looking at the water change color, seeing puffer fish scurry away and small rays revealing their location as they avoid my paddle.  It was pretty shallow, but I was able to ride the board until I was about 5′ from the beach.   The beach was bright-white, and one could see the evolution from shell to grains of sand, as there were millions of small white clamshells, and smaller shards of the shells as you walked along.  I saw many bleached skeletons of fish: puffers, a round-flat fish, and even two large needlefish.  As I walked on, I came to a short berm topped with small white and yellow daisy/mum type flowers.  Interspersed among these plants were the remains of oysters, shells shining in the sun, flaking away like pastry.

Oysters, Flowers, Desert…

Brian and Elizabeth came ashore, and we walked to the other end of the bahia, where there was a frigate rookery.  There were all different ages of chicks, from downy cuties to moulting chicks learning from their folks.  Frigates are kinda lazy, and steal the majority of their food from other birds.  Once the other bird catches a fish, the frigates swoop down and harass them until they tire and drop their catch.  Many times, the frigates catch the discarded dinner in the air, gobbling it up to take home to their chicks.   We found a large shell similar to a conch, took pictures of it and left it.  Elizabeth and Brian opted for a hike to the other side of the island, and since I had no shoes, I opted to paddle some more.  I walked back to the board, and paddled back to where the frigates were.  As a tourist-toting panga approached, I started to over-think his wake, and of course, went swimming.  Good thing they call this a water sport!  The water was a beautiful temp, refreshing but not cold, and I stayed in for a minute or two.  After hopping back up, I paddled back to Willow for some lunch.

Sleeping Fish…

I’m not sure where my next stop’ll be, but I’ll leave in the morning.  I may head on up to Isla San Francisco, where there is a large, beautiful round bay.  After that, I may head back to the peninsula, as the westerlies are supposed to build, and that would be my shelter until they blow on by.  I know I won’t have internet access after this for a week or more, so please don’t worry.  All is well.  I am so blessed to be here, and giggle and shake my head, and thank God daily.  I hope you all are well, and getting ready for spring!

Beautiful Water…

West Side of Bahia San Gabriel

Here in La Paz, it’s lovely.  The days the norther doesn’t blow shows warm, sunny skies and usually pleasant sailing conditions.  I’ve heard the northers should diminish in 3-4 weeks.  Yay!  In fact, it’s been so calm for the past few days, I was able to paddle my SUP across the bay to look for whale sharks, but no luck.  It seems I may have just missed them.  Norther-less finds the cats and me doing our daily chores (them, sleeping) while trying to find shade and a touch of breeze.  I don’t resent this heat, it’s getting me ready for summer in the Sea!

Shortly after my arrival here, the winds were strong and steady.  My slip is just inside a sidetie of about 85′.  The first couple of days I had a large luxury motor yacht displaced from her slip as there was maintenance being done there.  She soon moved back to her home, and I had an astounding view of the bay.  The winds were blowing, and the Capitania del Puerto closed the port.  This means that boats cannot leave, but boats can come in to seek safe harbor.  Saturday just before noon, I heard a commotion outside of Willow and looked up to see the bow of a 98′ maxi sailing yacht bearing down on her, with a piling and dock in between us.  I yelled out, “Reverse!”, and the boat finally moved back.  But then came right at us, once again.  “Reverse!” was all I could yell, and the message soon made its way back to the operator.  The owner of the boat threw down a bow line and I took a bight around a cleat.  There was a dock worker with a line from the stern, and he was trying to pull the boat in.  We both were being pulled around as we tried to help the operator get control.  Neither line was cleated off.  The operator kept putting the boat in forward, putting the bow on top of the piling at the stern of my boat.  That piling was tilting with the weight.  Willow was not in a good place, and there was nothing I could do about it.  Mike, who’s on the neighboring boat with his wife, Kelly, came over to help.  He kept calling out suggestions, and then downright orders, to the operator.  This went on for about 15-20 minutes, until someone on the boat finally dropped down a spring line, and the operator worked off that until he was secured.  I was ordered to cleat off the bow line, which I did, but noted the line wasn’t run through the hawse-hole or chocks.  The operator backed down on that, and promptly ripped two stanchions out of the deck and destroyed a foot or two of the wood caprail with the stress on the line.  I must admit, I was a bit of a wreck, as I was securely moored, enjoying the morning, when this thing comes in.  Then I over-hear snippets of conversation like the hydraulic tank ran dry, so there was no steering, winches or lifts;  there was smoke in the engine room;  the watermaker’s broken; they can’t plug into shorepower because the cord is on a hydraulic reel; oh, and my favorite:  “it was the girl’s fault on the bow.  She pulled the bow in and got me all messed up.  After that, I couldn’t recover.”   Huh?  I know I are strong, or at least used to be, but wow!  Paddling that SUP has given me super-human strength!  I pulled in a 98′ sailboat, against the wind!  Niiiiicce.  I don’t think the operator knew I could hear everything he was saying, as he was pretty darn deaf.  I also get needing to find a scapegoat, but I pretty much kinda resented the blame.   I figured I wasn’t going to be here long, or maybe the other boat would leave, so it’s just something to let go.  And seriously question whether I’ll help other boats tie up…  Isn’t that a shame?

Yesterday this boat was re-located within the marina.  Now yesterday, there was no wind, the port was open, the hydraulic situation had been remedied, so no problems should be anticipated.  Nope, the bow came right back down, right on top of Willow again, and my neighbor Mike was yelling, “Reverse!”  After five minutes of manuevering, they were gone to their new location.  Soon after, a beautiful motoryacht with a hailing port of Newport Beach tied up, quietly, calmly, with just the captain and his deckhand.

And we are back to La Paz again…

The Sea of Cortez at Rest

Soon after I returned from a visit to the States, I knew the time was right to head back to the Baja Peninsula.  Friday, the day after Valentine’s Day, I filled up the last of the jerry cans of diesel, and went to the Mega for a provisioning run.  Saturday I washed Willow and got her ready for an early Sunday departure.  The weather was forecast to be quite benign for the crossing, and it looked like it would be a long motor.  I said my “See ya laters” to the wonderful people I’d met and hit the hay early.  Sunday morning, I was up, and off.

The conditions for the Sea of Cortez were incredible.  Rarely have I seen any water that calm.  The Sea was at rest, and I was benefitting from it.  Originally, my plan was to head for Los Frailes, but since things were so calm, I decided to cut my losses and head for Bahia Los Muertos instead.  On a coastal run, it would add another 50 nm or so if I went to Frailes and then Muertos, but this way, I added only another 17 nm running this angle.  Another 4 hours instead of 12 or so bashing was good for me!

I let my trusty minnow jig out and trolled the distance.  I filled my nice BIGger water tank with fresh water from my watermaker.  I relaxed in the bright sun, and was just amazed at the calm of the ocean.  For the majority of the time I was home, the norther was howling right on down the Sea.  And in a day and a half, it completely flattened out.  Amazing the changes…  I had humpbacks off the bow, turtles everywhere, and the only other vessel traffic was the ferry from Mazatlan to La Paz.  They are large radar targets, and show up well with AIS.  I had a bright half moon for a large portion of the night, and with no city lights, the stars and planets were amazing.  I saw the Southern Cross for the last time until I head back south, and I thanked it for its guidance.

The sun rose on another glorious day, and as I enjoyed a cup of coffee, the clicker on my fishing reel went off and line was singing off.  I had hooked a large dorado, and looked forward to bringing it in, but I didn’t set the hook firmly enough, and it broke free.  That started the day off with a bit of excitement and anticipation, and I looked forward to catching instead of just fishing.  In the early light, I passed tens of sleeping marlin, their dorsal fins above the water, as well as their tailfins.  They lazily would turn away as I approached.  Before that dorado hit, the water was so flat, I watched as ‘something’ carved a chevron in the water off my port beam, and I passed it on by.  Twenty seconds later, it hit the jig.  When the Sea is at rest, if you’re looking, it shows you a bunch of its secrets…

Where’s the Line Between Sea and Sky?

The only less than stellar part of the trip was when the engine quit.  Dang it!  Clogged fuel filter?  Bad fuel?  How ’bout no fuel?  I had a full main tank when I left Mazatlan for my trip home, and should have had a range of about 300 nm on the main tank.  For it to go empty at 125 nm makes me wonder where the other fuel went?  My bilges were clean and dry.  Luckily, the jerry jugs did the trick in the totally windless channel, and I was on my way after a quick filter change and fill up.  Before things heated up, I roasted some chicken in the oven and had a few days worth of meals.

As I sat outside watching the Sea go by, I was amazed at the life in it.  There were plovers, turtles, different forms of baby/micro sea life such as schools of what looked like bubbles, but would actually swim from each other.  I saw three small fish swimming together, about 3″ long, purple with brown spots, round in shape, with a gaping mouth almost as big as the fish was.  Obviously, at least to me, a plankton feeder, it was so neat to see.  All I had to do was LOOK, and the ocean offered up a few windows to the life within.  I love being out here!

Heading into Bahia de Los Muertos

I got the added gift of a calming, soothing sunset that showed me how far I had left to go.  About 15 nm from Bahia de los Muertos, I began getting Willow ready for anchor.  Expecting all of the shoreline to be dark, I was surprised by the lights indicating neighborhoods, villages or resorts.  As I closed on the bay, I carefully watched the radar and checked my course and waypoint often.  I hadn’t been in the bay for twenty five years, so it’d be foolish to say I had any local knowledge.  As I entered, I saw three other boats anchored, and dropped my hook safely in 25′ of water, away from the other boats until the morning when I could suss out their anchors locations and scope.

I had a weak internet signal, so I posted a quick note to my family of my safe arrival, and promptly fell into a deep sleep.  In the morning, I moved Willow to shallower, more sheltered water, pumped up my SUP and took an amazing paddle across the bay.  About a mile away, there was a rocky reef close to the surface.  The colors were muted and soft, and I found myself distracted between thinking my skeg would bottom out, the different layers of corals, the sea urchin and anemones, and needlefish!  I’m amazed I didn’t go swimming!  I went another couple of miles in the calm waters and turned back for Willow.  After having a snack, it was time for a nap.

The following day saw southwesterly winds in the mid-twenties, but the anchorage was still well protected.  With my feeble internet signal, I was able to get snippets of weather forecasts, and people travelling through the area all had versions of their own.  I think I will determine my own predictions based on my own observations, as the differing guest opinions were at times quite conflicting.  With a steady strong north breeze running through the anchorage, I thought I might be staying at Muertos for at least another week.  I checked my own information, watched as the wind dropped Thursday evening, and made a run for it under double reefed main and tiny jib.  Willow did a fantastic job in the short steep sea, keeping me and her decks dry the entire way!  I plotted my course through the Cerralvo Channel, and then through the San Lorenzo Channel.  All I can say is, I am so grateful for my trusty radar!  Holy cats, that sure helps on a dark channel passage when the charts call for rocks, shoals and buoys.  I rounded the point into La Paz Bay just before sunrise, and slowed Willow down for the entry into the channel.  I wanted to have no doubts as to the channels’ markers, as it shoals around the channel dramatically.  I checked in with the Port Captain prior to my entry into the channel, and was able to secure a slip in Marina Palmira.  It’s a lovely marina, and I’m happy to be here, as it has continued to blow pretty much stink since I arrived.  I have a beautiful view of the bay from my slip, and the sunsets are gorgeous.  I’ve been into town a couple of times, but I think I may be going for hikes and paddles only for awhile, since I just got my taxes done.  Yikes!  Time to make an adjustment with my deductions…

I think this brings me up to date in the news department.  I hope you all are enjoying your incredible weather, and finding time to be in our great outdoors.  Happy, Happy, Happiest of Birthdays Mom, I love you greatly and dearly!  Everyone, have a wonderful rest of the week, and I promise the posts will be more frequent!

My apologies for being late to write.  I have no good excuses, and thoroughly enjoy writing, so, I won’t bother making any…  I hope everyone is getting ready for a beautiful spring!

After I arrived in Mazatlan, I decided the time was right to make repairs to my water tank.  It was an adventure of different sorts, one that had me creating more of my own unique and frustrated vocabulary (new cuss words), and allowed me to clean every nook and cranny of the water tank.  A little background: ever since I re-powered, Feb. of 2011, I found I could never truly fill the water tank.  Before the work and haulout, there was a shelf built over the old engine that held the refrigeration compressor.  It was screwed into the bulkhead that was adjacent to the water tank.  That shelf needed to be removed in order to pull and replace the engine, so I unscrewed the long screws, pulled the shelf, and relocated the refer compressor in a different locker.  I hauled Willow out, replaced the engine with a shiny new one, and took the boat home.  But I could just never fill the water tank after that.  I’d put the hose at the deck fill, but the tank never filled, and the bilge pump was effectively pumping out water that should be in the tank, not the bilge.  I was in denial for just over 2 years.  This problem allowed me to keep just about 10 gallons of water in the tank only, and if I was sailing on a port tack, the tank emptied mysteriously.  So, it was not a good thing to perpetuate.

In Mazatlan, I spoke with shipwright, mechanic, and owner of Total Yacht Works, Bob Buchanan.  This is an official shout out and endorsement of him and his company, by the way.  Bob came down to Willow and looked at things, and pretty much agreed with my theory of water leaking out the holes the previous owner erroneously drilled into the water tank, through that bulkhead.  He said he’d be happy to cut out a panel of the bulkhead to allow for some quick repairs of the six holes.  I just needed to take apart the exhaust manifold, a few hoses, and the coolant reservoir in order to give him access to the bulkhead.  Perfect!

It took me about an hour to clear the area so Bob could make the cut.  Once the panel was opened, we both said “uh-oh” simultaneously.  There were no holes drilled into the water tank.  So much for my theory.  I offered to fill the tank to see if we could see where the actual leak was.  After about 5 seconds, Bob told me to stop.  It was now clear what the problem was.  The fitting for the tank vent had broken off at the tank, allowing water to shoot out of a 5/8″ hole.  “Easy!” Bob said.  We just had to gain access to the inside of the tank to remove the other end of the fitting, and we can pop a new one in.  My face fell.  Getting to the inside of the tank meant moving everything(!) out of the garage, disconnecting and removing all four batteries, taking apart the beautiful plywood box that was made to hold the batteries, in order to get to the inspection port nearest the tank vent fitting.  I guessed it would take me about 2 days of work to get all that done, so Bob left for other jobs and I got to it.

After about 3 hours of work, I had the inspection port opened and ready.  Bob and I were both pretty surprised.  He said he had opened up some other jobs he couldn’t leave right then, and I completely understood.  He asked if I could pop out the other side of the fitting and pull it out of the tank.  I did that, and cleaned the inside of the tank while I was at it.  Now, I was just waiting for him to be able to thread the male end of the new fitting into the female end I was holding still for him.  This would take about fifteen minutes, but he said he wouldn’t be able to get to it probably until Monday.  It was Friday.

Frito the Flying Fish, our new mascot…

I got the opportunity to clean out everything that was in the garage again, and found a few additional items.  A month or so earlier while on the trip down to Punta Mita, I couldn’t seem to keep either of the cats out of the garage.  All I could think was, please don’t be a rat!  Rats can be disastrous on a boat aside from the hygeine and disease factors.  They love to chew up hoses, wiring insulation, and other hard to see items that you don’t know about until the engine overheats or the electronics don’t work for some unknown reason.  And then they leave presents!  Whether it’s rat droppings or baby ratlets, I wanted none of it.  Fortunately, the monsters weren’t chasing rats.  ‘Someone’ (fat red boy cat) brought in a small flying fish and hid it in the garage.  I now have the fossilized, dessicated version of same.  Animals are so much fun on boats!

I cleaned out and up more stuff, threw or gave away some more stuff, and reorganized the stuff I was gonna keep.  Not having any batteries connected meant no refrigeration, no lights, and no cooking.  I was lucky enough that my neighbors on the Ever Gleam perfectly barbecued the chicken I had left, and I had a great dinner by lantern-light.  Also lucky for me, Bob was able to come down Saturday morning and we popped the new fitting in the tank, and I could get to work re-assembling everything.  This gave me the opportunity to tidy up all of my wiring in the area, and it looks much better, and is in fact safer.  I got everything reconnected just by sunset, and I was cooking with gas, literally!  And the perk: I now had 30 gallons of fresh water instead of 10.  What a decadent difference!  All I needed was for Bob to epoxy in the panel cut out, and we were done!  The gratification of a repair done well is such a good feeling.  I was very happy with Bob’s work, the way he dealt with me, the way he let me do a bunch of the not-fun work, and the bill for service.  Very fair price for good solid work.  He stays pretty busy as his reputation is pretty dang strong.

Just as I was finishing up this little job, the weather turned up a notch, and we were expecting strong winds for the next week or so.  I checked on the airfares, and decided I could squeeze a quick trip home in.  Two days later, I was flying home to LAX.  Now I haven’t flown since 2002, and the airport in Mazatlan was pretty a-traumatic.  But the service on the airlines has changed!  Yikes!  A quarter-ounce baglet of soy snackie stuff and a half cup of soda, water or juice, and that’s what ya get.  Or, the flight attendants have a credit card scanner for your half cup, nine dollar alcoholic beverage.  The flight was fun and the scenery spectacular, but the ‘specialness’ of flying is gone.  Such a shame…

Going home was fun.  Missy and Andrew picked me up at LAX and took me to their beautiful home in Laguna Beach.  I love that place!  Their huge Bernese Mountain Dog, Rolli, met us at the door with his very enthusiastic greeting!  We turned on the TV and what was on?  A vehicle pursuit, and the debate over Beyonce lip-synching at the inauguration.  Nope!  I haven’t missed a thing!  I spent a bunch of days visiting with my mom, and that was good quality time of chatting, laughing, and helping her out with some computer stuff.  Now THAT’s pretty funny if I’m helping someone with computer stuff…

One day, I borrowed the car and drove up to Ventura to hit Real Cheap Sports.  If they didn’t have what I needed, I’d go to REI.  Just as I was rounding the corner there, I was thinking how much fun it would be if I’d run into a few of my friends.  I thought I’d keep an eye out for a city water truck, because my good friend worked for them.  Just as I had the thought I looked up and saw the water truck, and sure ‘nuf, Mike was sitting in it.  Way too much fun getting that big hug!  After Real Cheap Sports, I drove up to Santa Barbara and saw a few of my favorite troublemakers.  Then I came back down to the beach in time for Hokuloa’s paddling practice, but no one was there!  Poo!  I called Sally the coach, and she said it was the night of the general membership meeting, so I missed them!  I made mental plans to go back up the following week.

I got my most treasured item, a carbon fiber SUP paddle with a bag and leash in San Juan Capistrano.  We stopped into a warehouse, and got a paddle, used once, for sixty bucks.  Not too bad!  I ran into some people from LAFD by accident and had a fun time catching up.  The generosity of the people I met, did business with, or reconnected with was amazing.  Unfortunately it was a tad too amazing, as I was given the flu.  That pretty much stopped me in my tracks five days from leaving.  My trip up to San Luis Obispo and Ventura were cancelled as I couldn’t shake a fever and chills.  I had enough Dayquil and cough drops to not cough a lung out on the plane back to Mazatlan after a 2 week stay.  I had so much fun at home, but it was good to be back to my monsters and Willow.  I arrived on Valentine’s Day, and immediately started to get ready to get under way.  I needed the fresh air of the open ocean for my little lungies.  I made one more stop at the Mega for fresh food, a vet for cat food, and the Pemex for diesel, and left early Sunday morning for Los Frailes or Bahia Los Muertos.  That crossing will be the topic for the next post.  Take care everyone; be happy, healthy, and safe.

Beautiful Bright Sun and Lousy Frequent Longlines!

After enjoying a few weeks at Punta Mita, I felt the time was right to begin the slow trek north, back to Mazatlan, then back over to the Baja, and begin exploring there.  I have certain memories of some of the small bays and anchorages between Cabo and La Paz, and I really want to visit them again.  Granted, that was my first big trip, moving the 43′ Huntingford one-off ketch, Saramin, from La Paz to Cabo, and then to Hawaii.  The Hawaii part didn’t happen as planned, but I got a beautiful, quick introduction to the lower half of the Sea of Cortez.  We left La Paz, sailed to Ballandra, spent the night, then went to Los Muertos and stayed a night, and continued on to Cabo.  The sea life was amazing then, as it is now,  Now twenty years later, I know those particular coves have been developed, on a small scale or large, but I’d really like to see them again.  On another trip down, I helped move a 37′ from La Paz up to San Carlos.  That trip did it!  I just need to go back, and I feel that need now…

I took Willow from Punta Mita to La Cruz to do a last minute boat wash, laundry, provision and get fuel.  I got to visit with some old friends from Santa Barbara, and then say ‘hey’ to Ian.  I got a few long paddles in, and felt the weather window was good, so I left early Friday morning.

Up before sunrise, I left the marina and motored the eight miles to the mouth of the bay.  The Southern Cross was low in the sky and unmistakable.  Songs have been written about this constellation, and the lore is that it helps mariners.  I could easily see how as it was dead-bang right where it should be: south.  I took that as a good omen.  As the sun rose, there were humpbacks everywhere!  The first one I saw was surrounded by dolphins, so that’s the second good omen.  The whales were spy-hopping, blowing, fin slapping and breaching everywhere I looked.  It was amazing, and a bit intimidating, as there was no safe shortcut out of there to stay out of their way.  After about 25 minutes, everyone continued on their safe journey, including me.

Shortly after exiting the bay, I was hailed on the radio by another sailboat heading up to Chacala.  I chose to make a straight trip on up to the outside of Isla Isabel to avoid the nighttime fishing fleet I was enveloped in on my Christmas trip down. I are smart, right?  I spoke to this other boat for a bit, told them a little about Chacala, and we got off the radio.  As I set my trolling jig out, I noted a trawler-type boat far off my stern.  I watched as it continued my way.  A few hours later, it was directly behind me, about a hundred yards off.  I really don’t know why the operator chose to follow me, especially this close, as there is a big huge ocean out here.  Just as I was getting ready to hail the vessel, I saw a  longline right off my bow.  Turning hard to starboard would have put me right in it, so all I could do was go to port, and hail the vessel.  The operator sounded a bit put out that I called, and seemed bored with my traffic about the longline.  He also sounded pissed about altering course to avoid me, but if he didn’t, he was gonna be wrapped up tight in a few miles of polypropylene.  About a mile and a half away, I found the end of the line, rounded it and went back on my way.  The trawler went on by without a word, and I was happy to see it go.  Within 20 minutes, I caught up to him and found him wrapped up in another longline.  I tried hailing him on the radio to see if he wanted me to standby until he could check his running gear and got no response.  I hung out for a bit, and a woman hailed me on the radio, saying her husband had cut the line, and was waiting for me to pass by.  I wasn’t clear how he wanted me to pass through as he was holding both ends of the line in his hands and above the water.  I thanked him and his wife, and told them I’d just run the line until I found the other end.  I was glad to get out of the area.

The altered course unfortunately set me onto longline after longline, frustrating the living daylights out of me.  I was constantly heading off course by miles to avoid all of this gear.  (What’s a longline?  At least here in Mexico, it’s miles of about 3/8″ polypropylene, held to the sea surface by any kind of floating container you can imagine: soda bottles, dish soap bottles, detergent bottles, milk bottles, etc…  Many of the bottles are clear, making them hard to see.  Most have been painted bright colors, which is helpful.  These bottles are spaced on this line about every 25 yards, with about a 6′ length of monofilament tied onto the poly, a baited hook on the other end, interspersed about every 8′.  These longlines are 2-8nm long, depending on how many times they’ve been run over and broken.  A nightmare to avoid when it’s dark or when the seas are up, the fishermen seem to love them, as they are very successful at catching fish, as well as a bunch of other things.  I saw 4 sea turtles wrapped up and not moving at all, no longer at the surface…)  I can’t begrudge a man working hard to make a living, but I admit to calling them bad names Friday as I worked hard to avoid 18 of these lines!  I finally had to make a pee break, and don’t you know it, THAT’S when I ran through one.  I heard a noise like a fishing line singing as it’s being run off the reel, then about 6-8 clunks near my prop, and then I was free.  Crap!  Time to go swimming to see what’s down there.  I went in, saw a ball of line around the shaft, but the prop was free and turning easily.  I opted to wait to cut it all away until I was in Mazatlan, since it was nearing sunset.  Willow moved on easily, there were no funny noises, and I checked the engine compartment.  Everything was tight, no water, and the dripless packing seemed intact.  I dried off and continued on my way.

There would be no dozing on this night watch, as now I was nervous about the longlines, and then keeping another eye out for the regular fishing fleet. I couldn’t blame them for wanting to be out.  The conditions were good for a few days of an offshore shrimping catch.   Additionally, the chart has a label on it stating “The Tres Marias Islands have been reported to be 3 nm east of the charted location.  And Isla Isabel has been reported 1.5 nm southwest of the charted location.  These reports have not been verified.”  Niiiice…  My course was taking me well inside of the Tres Marias, an old penal colony, and the chart calls for a 20 nm safe zone in all directions.  No problem there.  But my course was going to send me about 5 nm west of Isla Isabel.  Some legs, and night watches, are easy.  This one was proving to be not so simple, and with little rest.  Well, that’s what I signed up for, so I just got on with it.

I kept a careful eye out and dodged a few shrimpers during the night, but didn’t see or catch any longlines.  Maybe I was out of longline country!  Ah, nope!  There were four more for me to avoid within 30 nm of Mazatlan, but twice, the fishermen zoomed up in their pangas and opened the lines up for me to pass through!  What a gift, and I thanked them profusely and wished them luck.  Once again fishing, I landed a nice fat bonito, but let it go as it’s not one of my favorites.  Later in the morning, the clicker on the reel went off again, and there was a great deal of splashing and flapping in the area of my jig.  A tern-like bird had snagged one of the barbs on the trebled hook.  I slowed Willow, and very slowly reeled the bird in.  Using my ‘cat-fish’ net, I brought the bird aboard and saw where it was hooked: right through one of the ‘nostrils’ in its beak.  Yikes!  And it had a long, sharp beak.  I threw a towel over it to help it calm and got my needlenose pliers out.  Just exposing the beak, I was able to back the hook out without any apparent damage.  I cut the line wrapping it’s wing, and then of course, out comes Makani wanting his morning snack!  A tern would do nicely, I’m sure he thought.  No way, buddy, and down below with you.  I was able to throw the bird up and out of his reach, and it flew away apparently none worse for wear.

Okay, maybe now I can get a short rest?  Nope, the Mexican Navy is in the area, and I don’t want to be caught sleeping on watch.  Time for another cup of coffee.  Soon, the breeze began to build and freshened up to 20 knots.  Reefed down and kinda bashing into it, I was 15 nm out of port.  A boat was sailing on down to me, and once they passed, we spoke on the radio.  I offered up the info regarding the longlines, and they told me of the Old Harbor and Stone Island anchorage closures due to the ever-increasing theft of dinghies, brazenness of the thieves, and lack of either funds or concern of the local law enforcement to do anything about it.  Bummer.  The breeze continued to build, and I was thankful I was nearing my destination.  I rounded Deer Island and had the short wind chop now on my beam as I approached the El Cid entrance.  A little center console runabout flew by me and into the channel.  I noticed it reverse suddenly, turn, and exit on out again.  What now?  The dredge was across the channel so I turned Willow around and bashed for twenty more minutes or so.  Finally, I made the entrance, found my slip in Marina Fonatur, and secured Willow to the dock.  It was nice to be here!

I shut everything down, went to the office to register, and returned to Willow for a nice, quiet drink.  The monsters were happy to be here, and Makani was giving the death-stare to another resident cat daring to be on the dock.  It’s owners were aboard a Westsail 43′, working on some solar installations.  It was good to talk to some nice folks.

I plan to be here for about a week, and to finally fix my leaking water tank.  I can put no more than 10 gallons in it without water pouring out some holes the previous owner had unwittingly drilled into it. Additionally, I can run the watermaker all I want, but if I’m on a port tack, whatever water is in the tank will slosh out those holes, too.  So it’s time for a final fix, once and for all.  That’s the plan, at least!   And, I’ll get a good paddle in each day, for sanity’s sake…

The homemade ginger ale is ready for tasting, so I must go now.  I hope you all have a very excellent week, take care, stay warm (or cool, depending…), and have some fun.  Know I think of you often, and love and miss each of you!  Adios!

     Hi Everyone!  I hope this finds you all happy, healthy, and either enjoying or escaping whatever weather you find yourself in!

     I don’t wanna gloat, but I will.  I’m anchored at lovely Punta Mita, and after yesterday’s clouds and patchy rain, the overnight clearing winds gave me an astounding day!  The sky is a clear blue, the breeze is a solid 10 knots, gusting to 15, and in this sheltered bay, there’s the prevailing very small swell coming in from the south, and the very small, little fetch of a windwave coming from the north.  The air temperature is 79 degrees.  Punta Mita has grown as a resort community, but it’s not the boom-boom resort type of Cabo.  It’s quiet, beautiful and fun. It looks like there are about a dozen full-time boats anchored out here, with more visiting on weekends.  I’ve been in town only once since I got here, which is fine by me, as that saves me some money.  But I’ve been having a ball visiting the boats out on the hook as I make my way through the anchorage while paddling the SUP.  It’s usually a different boat each day, as they ‘get in my way.’

     I have been having an absolute blast with the cheap-o inflatable West Marine SUP and paddle.  Accustomed to a carbon fiber outrigger paddle, the adjustable aluminum and plastic gizmo that came with the board weighs a ton!  But that just makes me stronger, right?  I’ve learned that paddling in the protected waters of a marina is 100% different than paddling in an anchorage subject to swell, windwaves, panga wakes, and gusty winds.  It’s way fun!  I’ve still only been on the thing about 8 times, but I made a deal with myself to go out at least once a day from here on out.  Today is much better than two days ago when I went swimming at least three times!  Good thing the water’s warm! Yesterday I made it through the anchorage without swimming, but today it’s a bit blowier (true nautical term), and I went swimming once.  I’m enjoying learning how weight distribution affects going straight, turning, and counteracting cross winds. I figure if I keep at it daily, the learning curve will get better and better.  I’ve noticed over the past 5 years my balance to be a bit off.  This is a great way to build that back up and gain a huge amount of confidence.  Plus, I make for cheap entertainment for the rest of the anchorage…

     I had delusions of sanding my brightwork for a bit of varnish today, but decided to write instead.  I’m sitting in the cockpit, enjoying an adult beverage, watching the cats snore, the whales blow, and the sailboats sail around the point into the bay.  Sharing this with you brings me way more enjoyment than sanding varnish.  Maybe manana… (tomorrow).  Please know I think of everyone at home often, and send you all my best.  I wish you all could be down here to see and share in what I’m seeing, who I’m meeting, and what I’m experiencing.  At the risk of sounding corny, there is a God, and there is Peace. All of it to you…     

Happy, Happy, Happy Dang New Year, Everyone!

I’m sitting here on Willow, securely anchored at Punta Mita, just at the entrance to Banderas Bay.  The wind is in the mid-teens, there’s an occasional cloud wandering by, but the air is soft and comfortable.  Since leaving Mazatlan, my trip has been gifted with some really great people and new friends.  While at Matenchen Bay, I would sit and read, enjoying an early morning cup o’ joe while watching as the fishermen worked hard throwing small nets out for their daily food.   The grins and high fives for a 6″ fish made me feel very grateful for everything I have.  Often times, that one fish was the only reward for hours of fishing.  Pretty amazing.

I left Matenchen Bay on the 29th and sailed down to Chacala.  What a beautiful little town, and it is a must-stop during the trip back up the coast.  As you’re approaching the tiny bay, you begin seeing the homes built among the coconut palms and banana trees.  They are elegant, lush, and very colorful.  All of the color lends a festive and happy air to the location.  The anchorage wasn’t bad at all, and though it was still Christmas Week there, the busloads of revellers were so, so happy.  All of the sounds were excited, gleeful, and just, well, happy!  I didn’t go ashore, and departed the next morning, but I know it will be on the agenda for my return trip.

On the 30th, I headed toward Punta de Mita, Punta Mita as the locals say, and wound up motoring most of the way.  After playing up-down with the sails at least eight times, I said forget it, and stuck with the engine.  The hills and the valleys of the coast were the source of my frustration.  In the offshore breeze, I would just get the sails up and trimmed nicely when I’d hit another peak or hill, effectively shutting off the air.  Then I’d get in a valley, set sail and take off again.  Until I hit another hill, and well, you know what happens…  I got a few firm tugs on the jig I was trolling, but didn’t land anything.  The best part of the leg was the whales!  The humpbacks are in the area and going strong.  I watched a trio for miles breaching, pectoral fin and/or tail slapping for about two hours.  It was an awesome sight.  The whales are all over the bay here in very high numbers.  The pangueros supplement their fishing income with whale watching trips; they’re busy, and successful!

I spent one night in Punta Mita, then headed along the coast to La Cruz, also known as La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, after a miracle wooden cross.  I arrived New Year’s Eve, had an early dinner, and promptly fell asleep.  So much for New Year’s shenanigans and fun and frivolity.  Friends asked where I had watched the fireworks from.  Fireworks?  Pretty much from the inside of my eyelids…  New Year’s Day brought about 2″ of steady rain, and it was fun to go exploring the town on foot.  In the rain, flip flops aren’t the wisest of footwear, as each step you take kicks up the dirt of the road onto the backs of your legs.  I needed a shower after the rain!  Instead, I decided to go paddleboarding, and had such a nice paddle in the rain-flattened surf.  Not having my surflegs enough to surf from the SUP yet, this was a great opportunity to go out and play in some real gentle swells and gain some more confidence.  Feeling pretty ‘pro’ about how I was doing, I promptly fell ass over tea kettle and head first into the drink!  The water was so warm!  That rinsed the heavy ends of my walkabout off my legs, and I returned to Willow for a quick rinse off.  It was a pretty fun day…

One of the items I’ve been having trouble keeping aboard Willow is cat litter.  I thought about it before I left, and figured there wouldn’t be a problem.  There’s a problem!  Willow was off limits to visitors until I found a suitable replacement for the litter.  Beach sand didn’t cut it, as the cats wouldn’t even step into the litter box with it.  Word was out already on the morning radio net, since another boat was in the same pickle.  Alison, who lives with her husband and two boys on the Kin te Anai, put out that she would be heading down to Puerto Vallarta in their van, and would be happy to stop at Costco.  I was in for that, and promptly took her up on the offer.  What a really nice and kind woman.  Another couple and I hitched rides with her. The couple took a cab back since they were going to make a pretty big purchase, and didn’t want to take up all the cargo space.  Needless to say, I got my litter (100 pounds of it!), the other boats’ litter, and then walked around gaga-eyed at all of the neat stuff one takes for granted when Costco is literally just around the corner.  Fortunately, I remembered how small Willow is, how storage-challenged Willow is, how much crap Willow has on her, and kept my purchases to the 18 rolls of paper towel, two loaves of 7 grain, whole wheat, gluten free bread, some tonic (malaria prevention, of course), tequila, and chicken.  Alison and her husband, Merle, have a boat care company, and will keep an eye on boats when the owners go home for short, or long periods.  We stopped at Paradise Village to look at two boats, then Zaragosa’s, the West Marine of Puerto Vallarta.  I got a wonderful tour, and boy, how things have changed since I first walked around PV  13 years ago…  I spent the next day and a half doing laundry the old fashioned way, found I enjoy it much more than sitting in some laundromat, and came back to Punta Mita yesterday.

While in La Cruz, my neighbor in the marina was aboard a Passport 40.  One of his friends was down visiting from the Snoqualmie River area of Washington.  Ian and Dave both worked as volunteer firemen and EMTs, and it was really fun telling stories and lies.  This is in addition to their careers as accountant and lawyer, and it renewed my admiration for our volunteer brigades out there.  I was wined and dined by two very generous men who just wanted to talk-story, laugh, and have fun.  Ian remains in Mexico, and Dave returned to Washington, with priomises to come back down for some more fun.

These experiences are why I’m here.  Meeting such great, un-complicated, honest, giving and fun people is what this voyage is about.  I’ve not been disappointed yet, whether by the locals or gringos, and I look forward to more of the same. Seeing some of the most incredible vistas, sunrises and sunsets is why I’m here.  I look so forward to more of the same of those, too.  My rough plan is to stay in the area at anchor, bus in to La Cruz or Bucerias for any needed groceries, and keep the costs down.  I may head about a hundred miles more down the coast to Barra de Navidad, before heading back up toward La Paz.  Thanks to you all for sharing in the trip.  It’s really very fun for me to send these postings out.  Take care, don’t work too hard, be well, and have a great 2013.