Off into the Sunset

Robyn was in Minnesota the past week.  After 95 years of a life well lived, her father passed away peacefully, at home.  We were in cellphone and internet range, near an international airport, and she was able to be with her mom and the rest of the family two days later.  A blessing, when you consider how far we can be from communication, let alone fast international transportation.  

She returned yesterday, and we are checking out of Mexico in a couple of hours. After the formalities at the marina here, we’ll go out to an anchorage for a couple of days to do some chores before we put to sea.  That’ll most likely be on Saturday.  The passage to the Marquesas would normally take about three weeks, but the predictions call for very light winds for all of next week, so it’ll likely take longer.  Whatever.  We’ll get there when we get there.

One of the chores I have to do before setting off is to clean the hull again.  It’s amazing how fast stuff grows on it in the tropics, especially with worn-out anti-fouling paint.  The scrubbing I did a few weeks ago in Tenacatita just about killed me, but as Robyn was in the States last week, I took the opportunity for her to bring down a hookah for me.  That’s not quite what you might think at first.  In this context, a hookah supplies compressed air from the surface to a diver in the water.  Wahoo!  No more holding my breath while scrubbing the hull!  I expect the hookah will turn a heinous job into a merely unpleasant one.

Here’s a thought experiment for you to try.  Plan all the food you will need for the next month — can’t count on refrigeration, though.  Picture this mountain of cans and boxes and bags, then imagine how you would organize it in a small RV so that you can find whatever you need while your partner is swerving wildly on a mountain road.  Oh, and you have to carry it all back from the grocery store on a local bus.  Good luck.

There are two constants in long-distance cruising on a boat — you’re always lost, and you’re always leaving.  By the time you’ve learned your way around in some place you’re visiting, it’s time to leave.  Well, we’ve learned our way around Puerto Vallarta pretty well now, so I guess it’s time to leave.

I’ll post again in the Marquesas.

Whale's Tail Video

I set the video to public, so it's viewable now.

You Tube Video of Whale in Banderas Bay

I uploaded a video to You Tube that our crew, Deb Custer, shot as we were sailing out of Banderas Bay recently, enroute to Tenacatita.  This whale gave us a real show.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KS8RYt_xbpk&feature=c4-overview&list=UU9MkwlZ4C-FD4npqcTn7Vfw

LIFE RAFT DRILL

Last Monday, we had the opportunity to practice with a liferaft.  Until then, I just took it on faith that it would inflate if we launched it, and that we would manage to get in, separate from the sinking boat, etc.  The marina here has been sponsoring seminars for the “Puddle Jumpers”, and did this one about launching a liferaft, righting it if it inflated inverted, getting in, etc.  

The way it works is like this.  The raft is packaged in either a fiberglass canister for deck storage or in a zippered canvas valise for below deck storage.  As an absolute last resort (i.e. the boat is going down), you throw the canister or valise overboard (it floats, and it should already be tied to the boat with a long line), then you jank hard on the line to actuate the inflator.  If it inflates upside down (this one did), you have to flip it over (no easy task, but doable).  Then you have to climb in, which is also not so easy.  I’m leaving out a host of details, but you get the idea.

Robyn and I were quick on the draw when asked for volunteers.  We jumped in, righted the raft, and climbed in — no problem.  I just hope that if it ever happens for real, the water is just as calm as the harbor.  Actually, after we got out of the water and watched others making an attempt, I was struck by the thought that so much of what Robyn and I have done in life has prepared us for meeting this challenge, should it appear.  I certainly hope it doesn’t, and will continue to be diligent in our preparations, but we will be as ready as possible if it does.

We are on track for a departure next week, probably on Friday or Saturday, the 14th or 15th.

TENACATITA

The day after we came back to the boat from Minnesota, Eitan came for a visit.  It was great to have him on the boat again.  He was only here for five days, but we went out to some local islands for snorkeling, as well as just enjoying being together again on Mintaka.  The day after he left, our friends Deb and Jim Custer, who we met on a street corner in Papeete on our last Pacific crossing, came for a visit.  They had more time, and were keen on sailing, so we went down the coast to an old favorite anchorage, Tenacatita Bay.  Dear friends that we’ve known even longer, Darrell and Rita Moquist on the boat Overheated, had been spending the winter there, so we got to spend some quality time with them, too.

We were in Tenacatita once before, just before we sailed west to French Polynesia eleven years ago.  Robyn flew north for some work while Eitan and I stayed at anchor there for just over a month.  I had fond memories of that time, and was looking forward to being there again, especially with such dear friends.

Leaving the marina here in La Cruz on February 20th, we had a nice beat across the bay towards Cabo Corrientes and the open sea southward, and a special treat from a whale along the way.  Whales are common here.  We’ve hardly ever moved on the bay without seeing at least one, and they often breach or slap their tales or just swim along on the surface inspiring awe.  This one, though, kept slapping his tail over and over again, close enough to our path to make me a little nervous.  Mostly, though, I was enthralled by the performance.

We lost the wind as we doubled the cape into the open sea, and wound up motoring most of the remaining ninety miles to Tenacatita, but no matter.  It’s beautiful out there.  Tenacatita is idyllic:  a protected bay with a secure anchorage, a long white sand beach, a palapa restaurant.  The last time there, I played bocci ball on the beach with other cruisers every day for over thirty days.  I only played once this trip, opting for time with friends, instead, but I thoroughly enjoyed the game.  There were quite a few other boats there, and on most days, a group swims to the beach from one of the boats.  We did that a couple of times — those are pretty long swims —  followed by a long walk down the beach, and a cool drink at the palapa.

Landing the dinghy on the beach there involves timing the surf.  Mostly, the surf was easy to get in and out through, but I picked the wrong moment to row out one day and got quite a wild, wet ride.  Didn’t roll it over, but the breaking wave did fill the dinghy.  Great fun!

The return trip back here to La Cruz was a little disappointing from a sailing point of view (not much wind, so we motored almost all the way), but it was still beautiful.  Motoring on a still, flat sea tends to become a wildlife tour, too, as the stillness allows one to see things that would be missed with more of a sea running.  This time we counted fourteen turtles, besides a half dozen or so rays.

Deb and Jim left us here in La Cruz, moving on to other adventures, and we are now in the final stages of preparing for the “Pacific Puddle Jump”.  We are expecting to depart Mexico for the Marquesas in about a week, a passage that will probably take us three weeks, more or less.  We’ve made some friends here that are doing the same thing, and are enjoying the comraderie that comes with a shared adventure.  I’ll try to write about these preparations before we head off next week