Alison
11/07/2009, Cabo San Lucas, MX

Who ever thought our sweet, lithe sailboat, at a relatively trim 26,000 pounds, could tow an 88-ton steel behemoth ship 42 miles, 28 of it in open ocean? Not us. Not a lot of people. And really not us. But there it is, in the picture above, the Iron Maiden on a tether, looking almost humble and much smaller than it does in real life, dutifully following behind us as we head for Puerto San Carlos in Bahia Santa Magdalena. It's a long story for a blog and I am challenged to decide what to include and what to delete and still portray the thrill of it all. Sorry, but in my verbose way, I will limit the deletions.

Iron Maiden, the Beast in question, the one bearing my mother on an adventure of her own, the one that has been following along with us and the Ha Ha fleet, offering her vast array of parts and maintenance services to broken ships in the fleet, became disabled herself just outside Bahia Santa Maria, our 3rd stop on this trip. She called for assistance on the common frequency monitored by the Ha Ha fleet, and one of the sailboats, Sagittaire, responded. We tuned to the radio as Sagittaire rounded the corner about midnight with Iron Maiden in tow, and listened to the coordination between the two boats as they came in to anchor.

Sagittaire had the fortunate advantage of a crew of 4 that included Tiffany and Greg Norte, who are both former Coast Guard, and knew what they were doing. The exchange on the radio between Tiffany, at the helm of Sagittaire with Iron Maiden in tow, and her husband Greg, aboard Iron Maiden and coordinating things from that end, was impressive and inspiring. At the time we didn't know their background, but it was obvious they were not casual mariners. Their professionalism and knowledge were apparent, despite the fact that they sounded, um, sorry Greg and Tiff -- about 17 years old on the radio. Turns out Tiffany has her 100 ton Captain's license and teaches sailing, in addition to being a graduate of the Coast Guard Academy with a total of 9 years as a Coastie. Greg is also an Academy grad with 9 years of service.

We listened with rapt attention and looked through binoculars as they brought Iron Maiden in to the anchoring spot we had scoped out for them an hour or so earlier in our dingy, in the dark of night, searching for a spot that was big enough for Iron Maiden to anchor and drift after being released by her tow boat. Since she had no engine to maneuver, and no hydraulics to pull her massive anchor back up should there be an error in the anchoring process, she had one shot at a successful anchor job. Ultimately it all went fine, and everyone went to bed at about 2am.

The next morning we dingied over to Iron Maiden to check in an offer assistance. After a meeting with the owners of Sagittaire, Mike and Diane, as well as Greg and Tiff, Bill and Laurie and Margy on Iron Maiden, Sam and Michelle and Allan and myself from Fly Aweigh, we struck a plan that included a complex crew swap and the goal to tow IM to Puerto San Carlos in Bahia Santa Magdalena, where Bill would have better resources to fix the transmission. Sam and Michelle were moved to Sagittaire, who planned to continue on schedule the next morning with the Ha Ha fleet to Cabo San Lucas. Tiffany moved onto Fly Aweigh, and Greg took up temporary residence on Iron Maiden. I did a quick laundry aboard Fly Aweigh, drying the sheets and towels on the rails and from the jib sheets and the davit bar in the brisk afternoon breeze with some help form Sam, we went ashore for a short visit to the Ha Ha beach party, ate a quick meal, did the crew swap, and took naps. At 11:30pm we had a late-night briefing aboard Fly Aweigh, preparing to start the "evolution" as Greg and Tiffany call it, the Coast Guard name for the entire process of hooking up to Iron Maiden. The brief was prepared and conducted by Greg and Tiff, who lent their vast knowledge and CG structure to the evolution, teaching us much. We do all this in the aviation world -- the process of prep and planning and briefing and discussing consequences and contingencies is not new, but as applied to the nautical realm we have much to learn.

Parts and tow ropes were combined from the 3 boats to create bridles for both boats and over 250 feet of rope between us. Hand-held VHF radios that could roam from stern to helm to bow, as well as the cockpit mounted radios served as fabulous communication throughout the whole process. Most of all, Fly Aweigh really shined as The Little Boat That Could, showing no unusual strain on the engine (75hp Yanmar Turbo Diesel for those who care) and absolutely no problems throughout the 10 hour deal.

Along the way we had some issues to address, like the tides in Magdalena Bay, which can create quite a current. Using that current to help us up the channel was of course our goal, rather than fighting it, or at it's height, losing ground to it, which could be seriously problematic. The tide table we had was not completely accurate, but we lucked out with a slight tidal edge adding a knot or two to our northbound progress. Also, Mag Bay is strange; it's huge but has a rather narrow navigable channel that runs 12 miles up the middle to a point, then zigs almost 130 degrees back to the south for a short leg, then back up. You have to pay attention to the channel markers to avoid running aground. If anyone is interested, look at a Google map of Magdalena Bay for the layout and it's relation to Bahia Santa Maria, where we were anchored when we started the tow: from our spot in Santa Maria, anyone with a good arm could throw a rock to the east over a short strip of sand dunes and it would plop down where we ultimately anchored in San Carlos, 10 hours later. A long leg south, a long leg back up to the north into the bay, a few zigs and zags, all to end up a few miles due east of where we started out. If the fleet had still been in Santa Maria, we might have been able to see their masts sticking up over the dunes.

I have discovered that I like the early morning watch, the one that gets to see the sun come up with a hot cup of tea or coffee and ideally, an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie (thank you Jon!) For this adventure I was blessed to have that opportunity, watching a magnificent vista as we entered Mag Bay and sharing it with Laurie, who was on watch on Iron Maiden. Laurie and I felt all grown-up with the pros asleep and just the two of us in control of the tow, including several turns, which had to be conducted gradually and with careful coordination. Now I want my 100-ton Captain's license...

4 hours later we pulled Iron Maiden to a good spot on a flat sand bar and released the tow, she drifted to a stop and dropped her anchor, we anchored on her stern and we all gathered in the stifling heat on Iron Maiden to slap each other on the back, eat Clif bars, swap photos, and bask in the glow of our success. It seems the transmission problem is something the eminently resourceful Captain Bill will be able to solve in a few weeks with the help of some locals who will run him around Baja for parts. My mom will stay with them in San Carlos and probably take a bus from San Carlos and meet us in La Paz in a week or so.

Meanwhile, we feel all glowy about the whole experience. Having Greg and Tiffany aboard (Greg joined us for the last leg to Cabo - as I write we should arrive in about 5 hours) has been amazing. They have given us confidence in ourselves and our boat that we might never have gained without this experience. They've taught us more about running a crew. And listening on the radio the night before to Sagittaire, a boat with comparable size and engine capability to Fly Aweigh, as she successfully towed Iron Maiden into Bahia Santa Maria, gave us the chutzpah to offer our services the next morning. Sam and Michelle were gracious and supportive as we booted them off for 2 days, and are no doubt better for the experience. All in all it's been an incredible few days, on top of an incredible few days.

In other news, we picked up another bird a few days ago, a young seagull who shyly hid as far forward on the bow as birdly possible, taking a rest for much of the day, refusing the fish and water offerings from it's human hosts, and finally flying off and into the sea near sunset.

We're loving the boat, despite ongoing failures of small and medium things, and are learning it's systems and rhythms. We're defining our own rhythms as well, although it's a rough process when the days are mixed with time off in port and time at sea on 3-hour watches. We must be getting near Cabo, because we're almost out of food. The fruit and veggies are gone, the eggs are gone, the frozen stuff is greatly reduced. The canned goods are down, the crackers are stale and the ice is melted. But were still not in the wild yet - Cabo has a Costco, and La Paz has a Sam's Club. All we're missing is Trader Joe's. Alas.

As I post this blog it is Saturday, and we have arrived in Cabo San Lucas and done a bit of exploring. I was completely set to dislike this little tourist mecca, but it's got an alarming charm to it, and we're all surprised to find we rather like it. It's too expensive, as promised, and very crowded, hot, and touristy. It looks like someone from the Las Vegas Wynn team got together with someone from Disney and they conjured up a romantic getaway for couples with too much money, or who wish to behave like they have too much money for a weekend. It's crawling with fishing boats, due in part to a huge tuna tournament through this weekend, and you can't walk along the malecón, the waters edge near the marina, without being accosted by every white-shirted waiter trying to lure you into his restaurant, which by the way all serve 2-for-1 ice cold beer. But the surrounding hills and rocks are spectacular, and there's something sort of silly-fun about the compact busy-ness of it all.

So we're enjoying ourselves, and it helps that we can leave it all behind and go back to our boat and look at the chaos from our own peaceful realm on the water. We chose not to take one of the expensive slips (more than a hotel room per night) and are anchored with many other Ha Ha fleet boats outside the marina along the beach. Last night the activity on the beach was true comedy - bands and entertainment spilling out from every luxury beach hotel, fire breathing and juggling shows on the beach, bad 70's disco, techno rock, all doing cacophonous battle with one another. Blissfully, it all ended at precisely 10 o'clock and peace floated across the water.

Today is Sam and Michelle's last day, so we're doing all those last day things - swapping photos, making sure everyone has their documents in order, figuring out how to get to the airport, and a dingy ride out to the tip of the cape where the beautiful natural and famous Cabo arch and gorgeous tall rock formations beckon. A quick swim and then we send them back to reality, whatever that is.

Comments [11] | | More

Alison
10/30/2009, Bahia Tortuga, MX

10-27-09

San Quintin was not one of the two scheduled stops on the Baja Ha Ha route, but here we are, along with about 19 other boats so far, with more arriving. Weather coming down the coast, mostly big seas and winds, has brought us to this safe anchorage about 1/4 of the way down Baja from San Diego. Some of the boats have continued on, sailing with spinnakers flying or motors straining, to gain ground ahead of the weather and keep somewhat to the "schedule." Being rather new on this boat, sans spinnaker, and trying to conserve fuel, we chose to nest for a day or two and let the weather pass.

Also here in San Quintin and anchored a few hundred feet away, is the Iron Maiden and my mother Margy. Iron Maiden is not among the Ha Ha-ers, but belongs to some friends who are journeying south to the Sea of Cortez, and eventually off to the Pacific. My mom was invited to join their trip to Baja, and knowing it would coincide with our path and timing, and also being one to never say no to a very cool experience, especially on that involves a 70-foot ship, good people, and a beautiful stateroom all to herself, she jumped at the chance. We'll pick her up in Baja and continue on to La Paz, she will fly home when she's ready.

San Quintin is beautiful in an other-worldy way -- scrabbly trees and bushes line the beach, soft brown humps of sand serve as low hills with a short mountain range behind. As I write the clouds have moved in and the wind is picking up, making the water in the bay choppy. The crew of the Iron Maiden, Bill, Laurie and Margy, headed for the beach a few hours ago, as we were napping after our journey, and Bill called on his hand-held radio to report that it was worth the trip. I hope we can squeeze in a dingy ride before the seas really kick up, because no doubt when they ease we'll be readying the boat for a swift departure.

On the way down we picked up a freeloader - a small gray finch, who entertained us the entire day with her aerobatic moth-catching. She hopped all over the boat, taking advantage of every square inch, sometimes including our shoes and shoulders. In Michelle's words: "...a small bird, using the boat as observation deck, watching for moths, dragonflies and other insects;, a launching pad, taking off for battle and capture of her prey; and dining table to munch her buggie morsels." She tucked away somewhere for the night, and by morning she was nowhere to be seen.

We visited with Iron Maiden a few times during our short stay, and were glad to be given a bag of fresh tuna, one beautiful sushi-grade chunk of shoulder, and another perfect for tuna steaks. I'm pretty sure they came from the 60-pound fish my mom caught the day before. As we were happily eating, Michelle said, "See, you're 51 years old and your mom is still providing for you!"

Since I'm ganging 2 blogs together, consider this a clumsy seque to the next one, which is more interesting.

10-29-09

After a raucous day and night in 14-18 foot seas and up to 35 knot gusts, we are now quietly sliding inside Cedros Island, in light winds and much calmer seas, 6 hours or so from Turtle Bay. Ironically, it seems the very weather we were trying to avoid by leaving early out of San Diego and then ducking into San Quintin is what we ended up encountering. It was actually quite fun, challenging, and again, satisfying to see how well the boat and crew performed in continuously uncomfortable conditions. The picture above does not show the height and intensity the waves deserve; at times the sea was bearing down on us from behind, but always Fly Aweigh rose gracefully up the wave and surfed down the face with nothing but the sound of slight waves breaking all around, and the core-strengthening yoga moves we made all day to maintain our balance.

The Baja Ha Ha fleet monitors Channel 69 on the VHF radio, and there were some exciting moments to distract us: one couple was seriously snagged by a Mexican "long line" which wrapped around his keel and prop, and could make little headway under sail, and was of course unable to start the motor. With aid from several boats, for which they deserve great credit, since this occurred at the height of the tough weather, he was eventually cut free from the long line itself (they are very thick, and go for hundreds of feet between small buoys) but he still had a tangle around his boat. Ultimately, as he was limping back to San Quintin, a big wave came from behind and washed the line free. Gleefully, he rejoined the group, then turned back again to San Quintin when he decided his engine didn't sound right. To top off his bad luck, we heard this morning that in all the fuss in the high winds and seas, trying to cut the line free, his boom was broken in a bad jibe. Hence, he's headed back to San Diego.

We learned this morning on the Baja Ha Ha Net that another boat was repeatedly rammed by a whale and sunk in the night! By now you have no doubt heard this, as the story hit national news. The crew abandoned ship into their life raft and was rescued 4 hours later by the US Coast Guard, all are safe and well. Yet another boat was "pooped" by a wave, flooding the cockpit, down the companionway and into the cabin. No injuries but the dodger was damaged (the cockpit cover) and they had some soaked logbooks and guidebooks. (We're listening to the morning Baja Ha Ha Net now on the VHF, and one guy checking in just said "Yesterday was the toughest sailing I've seen in 15 years, made me a believer again!") As for us, we whooped and hollered and actually had some fun, until I tried to poison Michelle at dinner with too much spice in the soup. She's back to normal today and is presently recording the entire experience in the journal. We've been laughing because when she was invited to join us as crew, her immediate response was "Hell yeah!" so we've come to say "Is this the 'Hell Yeah' part or the 'What the Hell?' part?"

We're bound for a 48 hour respite in Turtle Bay, looking forward to naps and quiet and some time in town. A massage and a hot bath sound good ... dreamer that I am ...

(Later) -- Today we are doing laundry and Internet stuff, then joining the Ha Ha gang for a beach party at 1pm.

I'll get this off while we have cheap wireless available here in Turtle Bay, a cute little town that looks more like a movie set than reality -- tiny little houses and stores, old rusty cars, everything covered in fine, soft brown dust. Tomorrow we leave with the fleet for Bahia Santa Maria, another 25-ish hour leg, with a much calmer forecast for the rest of the trip.

Comments [10] | | More

Queen Bee
10/25/2009, San Diego

A lovely few days in San Diego come to a close tomorrow morning, and the next chapter in this adventure begins. We've just arrived from the Baja Ha Ha costume party in the parking lot at West Marine here in San Diego, a happy batch of folks, most in costume, many in group costumes, all creative. We were the Bees on Fly Aweigh - Allan was the worker bee, with a tool belt around his waist, and was, ironically, late for the party because he was working, dealing with more electronic issues ... I was the queen bee with a fabulous foil crown, Sam was the killer bee, with a hose handle serving as his weapon of choice, and Michelle, the creator of our costumes and the energy behind any fun activity, was the pollinator bee, with flowers in her hair. It was a surprisingly fun party, even though it was in a parking lot in the middle of the afternoon, because of the people. An interesting lot, these cruisers. An air of adulthood sort of floats around, a measure of intelligence and education, yet there's no end to the fun and silliness they are capable of.

Allan has been overly busy and frustrated today, dealing with more than he should on this last day before we leave, but we are unable to aid him in his tasks. He is proving to be a dogged and focused Captain, but he did manage to steal away for a few hours to the party this afternoon. We were part of the group costume contest; didn't win, but we did score a few West Marine cooler bags.

So, armed with the goodies that came in our Baja Ha Ha bag - Frisbee, beach ball, sunglasses, kitchen timer (?) t-shirts, and other sailing necessities, we launch tomorrow at 9am.

The weather looks good, with some fun stuff forecast on Tuesday - stiff wind and bigger seas than we've seen so far, but nothing to worry about. We have food, water, drinks, crew, oh yeah, and a really nice boat that seems like it can't wait to get going.

We don't anticipate an opportunity to get on line before we get to Cabo San Lucas on November 5th, or even around the corner to La Paz in about 2 weeks, so I won't post any blogs for awhile. In the meantime, we call on Bahia Tortuga and Bahia Santa Maria, with 6 days on the water in between ports. Many thanks to everyone for your support, your blog comments that keep me motivated, and your prayers that keep us motivated and protected. More in a few weeks!

Comments [5] | | More

Alison
10/23/2009, San Diego

After a very busy few days in Marina del Rey, we have finally made it to the first official destination in our upcoming ever-so-loosely-structured itinerary, the place where we really begin the adventure -- the starting point of the Baja Ha Ha, San Diego. Just pulled in tonight, after a 26-hour trip from Marina del Rey.

It's normally about an 18 hour trip, but we made an unscheduled pit stop in Long beach just to spice up the night. A little encounter with a kelp bed in the dark threw us a bit sideways, so at 1am we hooked a left and aimed for the bright lights. The cruising guide we have on board suggested that Long Beach was a complicated place to navigate at night, largely due to the confusion of lights from every object that can hold a blinking light - cars, tankers, buoys, loading ramps, rocks, jettys, and breakwaters -- which make it difficult to discern what's what from what isn't. So we called Allan's Dad, woke him up, and got some first-hand intel on Long Beach, where he keeps his boat. He suggested the Guest Dock at the Cabrillo Yacht Club and we aimed for it, creeping through the huge harbor at 2 knots, since that's all we felt was safe for the heavily vibrating engine. Of course, at that point we had no idea what was causing the vibration, and didn't want to push things.

Long Beach Harbor at 2am is very lovely, a fairyland of lights as the cruising guide promised, but quite navigable, especially when aided by our fabulous Raymarine E-120 chart plotter. We had the place to ourselves, and snuck into the back waters near the yacht club, spied the guest dock and slid right in. After a quiet 4-hour nap, we arose, Allan donned his dive gear and went down to investigate. Sure enough, kelp, tightly wound about the prop shaft and the rudder. He sliced it free, we pulled our dock lines and slipped out of the guest dock before anyone knew we were there. It was a fabulous motor sail down the coast to San Diego, visited by dolphins and something that looks like a cross between a dolphin and a small whale, and are now side-tied to a catamaran on the guest dock at the San Diego Yacht Club.

We had a chance to catch up with our friends Bill and Laurie on Iron Maiden, a 70-foot iron motor sailer, and get the last bit of sage advice from Captain Bill. We'll be 3 days here in San Diego, running the final errands (really -- this is our LAST time to West Marine!) and stowing things for the 10 day trip south.

We are sad to report that we lost our crew, Ed and Annette, because Ed decided, or rather his heart decided to have bypass surgery. (Bad timing, Ed, but we are thrilled things went well and your heart will thank you.) We'll miss them terribly on our trip to Cabo, but plan to hook up with them later when they head down to Mazatlan (where they left their Catalina 42 six months ago) to resume their cruising. Meanwhile, we are working on getting Sam and Michelle to join us, pending successful acquisition of a passport for Michelle.

Many thanks to Allan's dad, Grant, who drove down to Marina del Rey to buy us lunch, help with last-minute preps and repairs, and see us off. After he waved goodbye at the slip, he drove to the edge of the jetty and took the photo above as we sailed by. It's all an adventure. Every minute. Stand by, more to come.

(Oh, and if you want to get a better idea of what this crazy Baja Ha Ha Rally is all about, check out their website at www.bajahaha.com)

Comments [3] | | More

Alison
10/16/2009, Marina del Rey

Fly Aweigh has left the building! We are on our way, little by little, sailing south. It was a bit of an anticlimactic departure, but so it goes. We had hoped to depart our home marina, Channel Islands, a symbolic, but not practical notion. Instead, with little time left to move the boat from Ventura to CI last night, we opted to remain in our slip in Ventura and begin the odyssey from there. We had a few friends who wanted to see us off, even in the wee, still-dark hours, but we left quietly -- no send-off party, no cheers or flags waving. And we had hoped to be leaving once and for all, destination San Diego, with the boat complete, but we're not quite there yet.

A few anomalies remain in the autopilot flux compass, and in the running lights. Byron still has to install a backing plate in the mast where the boom vang attaches, and there are little loose ends here and there. The flux compass problem we hope to solve today by installing a capacitor somewhere in the system, but the running lights thing is a bit more complicated, since it seems to happen at very inconsistent times. Tracking those kinds of ghosts can be frustrating and time-consuming, as everyone knows. So our departure is a bit like graduating but being one class short of completing your degree. You're allowed to walk with your class in cap and gown, and ceremoniously accept a rolled-up piece of blank paper, but you're not done yet.

It was a beautiful start, leaving the marina quietly in the dark, the crescent moon rising just below Venus or Jupiter or some other brilliant celestial body. As we slipped out we could hear waves crashing on the rocks outside the breakwater, the remains of our recent storm. A rather ominous sound, but we had our life vests and harnesses on, the jack line rigged, and were ready for a bit of a rough ride. But as it turns out, the sea was much calmer than yesterday, wave heights almost half, and although the ride has been a bit rolly, it's a rhythmic, gentle motion, and we are pleased to discover how nicely Fly Aweigh rides the sea.

It's strange, passing the familiar landmarks of our home coastline and knowing we won't be back this way for 20 months. It was especially strange yesterday, getting ready to really leave. We are in the business of leaving -- as airline pilots packing and leaving is second nature. But this is different. We're leaving it all behind, our things tucked into a compact storage unit or parceled out to friends, cars and cats spread about the Southland. Who needs what keys? Where do we leave this car and that key for this person to get it on which day? Does everybody have everybody else's phone numbers? And most of all, where's my purse?

Abeam Port Hueneme, a port with lots of really big ships with new cars and important cargo going in and out, we were intercepted and cut off by a tugboat tasked with guiding a big Norwegian cargo liner into port. Although we would have passed well in front of him, the guide boat decided to force us to go around him. Circling that huge ship, which looked empty and was therefore even taller, was very cool, the huge sheer sides as tall as a 7 story building.

The ride to del Rey is about 6 hours. The sun is fully up now, and the air is warming. We should get in after lunch, and have a good 5 hours of daylight remaining. With luck, we head for Long Beach tomorrow morning, where portions of the Gabel clan will meet us for dinner. Dana Point the night after that, to see more of the Gates clan. And then, San Diego, where we hope to attend a few seminars and shake the last few pennies out of our overused wallets for more important, gotta-have stuff before we leave for Mexico on the 26th.

PS. The problem with writing a blog with the intent of sending it off the minute I hit port and have an Internet connection is that by the time I get to that point, things have changed, and now the entry needs revision. Such is the case here - the revision being as follows: the engine has an overheat problem that is sporadic and we thought it had been handled, but new information reveals that we need to replace the engine heat exchanger. This being Friday and all, well, you know how this sentence ends. So looks like we'll be here until at least Tuesday. That gives us the weekend to hang around del Rey in balmy warm Fall weather with our bicycles and kayaks and dingy. Won't really be too awful.

Now, quick, I'll send this off before anything else happens!

PPS. The photo above was taken last weekend, anchored at Scorpion Harbor on Santa Cruz Island.

Comments [14] | | More

Alison
10/14/2009, Oxnard, CA

Odd how you realize how great your life is when you have chosen to leave it. I say that a lot lately, in fact, as I write, I'm pretty sure I've already said it in one of my earlier blog entries, but that just underscores the feeling. The latest example of this phenomenom is the neighbors we leave behind. Tony and Brenda at 2214 threw a fabulous Bon Voyage party for us on the 3rd -- an impressive turnout that allowed us to meet people on our block we'd never met before despite almost 7 years on Kingsbridge Lane. We met a number of couples who had cruised themselves, some recently, some in their younger days, and we were imbued with sage advice and enthusiastic encouragement. Brenda and Tony's house was heads and shoulders above the casual pizza party on the greenbelt that I'd envisioned throwing together, in part because of the 35 knot gale force winds that blew all day, and also because their house is a terrific place for a party.

Friends Sam, Michelle, John, Lynn and Carol pitched in and had Fly Aweigh t-shirts and hats made, as well as white golf shirts. (Waiting to see how long they stay white...) Another surprise collection of gifts came from our tenants, Tuesday and Vince, who snuck pictures of our boat logo and had an insulated wine bottle carrier and hat made with the logo, not to mention Tuesday gave me the Tilley hat I've been hankering for!! We were humbled and stunned by the entire evening. The food was spectacular, and it's clear we're leaving behind a great group of neighbors and friends. The photos in the Gallery are compliments of next-door-neighbor Judy.

Meanwhile back at the floating ranch, the process continues, such as it is, and we are making progress. Our deadline is continually revised. Flexibility is becoming second nature - we must be getting ready to cruise!

Last week the 5 solar panels went up and a new flip-down RV TV was installed in the salon (the old one didn't work), I cataloged a ton of spare parts and widgets and thingies, and the sat phone antenna was installed. The latter turned out to be a huge job for Byron, who spent 2 hours drilling a one-inch hole in the stainless antenna pole on the stern -- I don't know how he did it. Imagine standing uncomfortably, precariously, on the one-inch stern rail, crammed between the outboard motor, the bimini support poles, and the huge antenna pole itself, torso twisted at an awkward angle, with a heavy drill held at shoulder level, trying to drill into steel with no leverage. For hours. But tenacity is a Byron Pfeifer trait, and he got it done. All for good -- we had 5 bars on the sat phone this morning.

The sail has new luff tape (don't ask me, but it's supposed to be a good thing) and awaits 5 strong bodies to hoist and feed it into the mast and boom. All the stainless is up -- the new safety grab bars on the mast and in the galley, and the supports for the solar. The boat is a mess -- one day it looked like it had sneezed, popping eyeballs and gizzards and spewing wiring and empty cardboard boxes and Styrofoam and stray instruction manuals all about the dock and deck and cabin.

As I finish up this blog entry, we are returning from our long-awaited weekend shakedown sail with Ed and Annette, who will join us as crew to Cabo San Lucas on the Baja Ha Ha Rally. All in all, things went beautifully -- a few spurious electrons to sort out, but we are very close to being done. The watermaker is fantastic -- makes the most incredible tasting water from the salty ocean, a truly miraculous device. The generator, at 34.9 hours, is purring along, fingers crossed. The boat sails beautifully and seems more stable at anchor than our Catalina 34. The dingy davit is too big for the 10' dingy we got, so some awkward adaptations have to made there, but nothing serious. Haven't tested the solar yet, still need the wiring.

Felt suberb to be out at Santa Cruz Island again, in one of our favorite spots, Little Scorpion. We checked out our new/used scuba tanks and Allan's new/used BC (buoyancy compensator.) He tried to spear a fish for dinner but they saw him coming and headed for the protected area around the corner. Really, that's okay with me. I'm a hypocritical fish eater. I don't want to see the poor bugger flopping on the deck looking at me with pleading eyes, I just want to eat him later.

Enough babbling for one entry -- the light is beaming in at us from the end of that proverbial tunnel, and it's like a breath of fresh ocean air. 3 working days to go, God willing ...

Comments [6] | | More