01/18/2008, San Diego, California
Although it is still difficult to fathom, I successfully sailed a boat from Panama to San Diego, which is upwards of 4000 nautical miles. To me, success has two very simple parts in this particular circumstance. Number 1- I didn't sink the boat. And most importantly is number 2- I didn't die along the way. This may sound silly, but making it up back alive is good enough for me. I wasn't out there to set the 24 hour nautical speed record, and I surely didn't do this to get my name in a local yacht club publication. The fact that I made it back in one piece is plenty for me.
We pulled into San Diego Bay around 10 p.m. last night. It was a gorgeous clear night with bright starts and a spectacular city skyline. Entering my first American port was quite incredible, especially when the Navy's multimillion dollar, nuclear-powered, ass-kickin' hovercraft blasted by us at 25 knots. I felt like saluting or giving an All-American fist pump, but decided it'd be better to stay calm and look as if I'd done this a dozen times. But who am I kidding? I've never sailed a boat from a foreign country, let alone even been on San Diego Bay's water. Regardless of my humble interpersonal restraints, I felt proud of what I accomplished and certainly proud to be an American back in the United States. And to know that our Navy has super cool hovercrafts in use makes it even sweeter. God Bless America.
Although quite cold and blustery at times, the sail from Ensenada to San Diego was fairly straight forward. We had a few mechanical issues pop up just before our planned departure, so we didn't cast off until 11 a.m. Fortunately we were able to resolve the issues quickly and didn't have to stay an additional day. I, however, wouldn't have minded staying another night as I found a spectacular spot for great cheap tacos. I think I ate 7 tacos during my 24 hour stay in Ensenada, but probably could have pushed for a few more, possibly over 10. They were that good.
We finished with immigration and customs at the quarantine dock (which is the police dock on Shelter Island) around 11 p.m., had a quick glass of celebratory wine, and retreated to bed. Today, I walked into Point Loma, made dozens of calls to family and friends on my cell phone (call me! I'd love to hear from you), and enjoyed being stateside. Tonight I plan on meeting up with some friends from college and Club Med. But before anything else happens, I'm stopping at In N' Out Burger...no damn "double double" doubt about it!
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01/17/2008, 7 Miles South of the San Diego/Tijuana Border
Well, now that my fingers have thawed out I can write a few lines. As the title indicates, we are just hours away from American soil (well, water in this instance). We are all very excited and anxious to get into San Diego, especially after coming so far. The sun just went down and the air is quite cold....although I'm perfectly okay with it because we are almost there!!
We'll most likely tie up to the quarantine dock and check in with immigration/customs first thing tomorrow morning. For now, we'll get a quick hot dinner together and continue pushing north. If things go as planned, we'll be toasting the Champagne in under 5 hours!
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01/15/2008, Ensenada, Mexico
The lights of Ensenada can be seen in the far off distance at 8:11 pm. The dull glow of city lights barely reach us as we approach from 10 miles southwest of the Mexican town. The Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Dani California" screams through my Ipod headphones. I am very content with the easy-going, yet upbeat groove. Although we are not there yet, I picture myself having good times with friends in San Diego, wearing jeans, a hoody sweatshirt, and flip flops. I clearly envision myself walking through Pacific Beach and knowing where this or that is. Interestingly enough, spending the past 6 months on a sailboat has increased my imaginative capabilities, so visions such as this are constantly racing in and out of my head. I regularly wonder and dream about the next port, my next watch, the coastline just around the peninsula, and of course, my next meal. Sailors have been known to go slightly crazy after being at sea for too long. Unfortunately I was a bit looney before I even embarked on this trip, so my condition very well may have worsened. But then again, one can never be too imaginative these days.
Similar to traveling on land, we are required to "check out" of Mexico before we make our final sail back to the U.S. Although simple on paper, checking out consists of stopping at the Port Captain's office with our boat papers, passports, etc. The Port Captain will give us an exit stamp, and hopefully wish us a safe journey back to the greatest country of them all. Unfortunately a large amount of red tape is common, although we normally do quite well due to the fact that Julie speaks good Spanish and always impresses the men. I've gone into the offices a few times before and normally just stand quietly and patiently. I find smiling a lot helps too, but over-doing it can be a problem. The trick is to look and act as if you truly are happy to see them and arrive in their port, even if you're not. It is basic Drama 101 stuff. We've had very few problems to date, so I don't anticipate any surprises. However, this wouldn't be the first time I was wrong.
The navigation instruments read we will arrive in the main harbor at 10:11 pm, just a few hours from now. We'll drop the anchor and head into the official's offices first thing tomorrow morning. We'll stay no more than a few days in Ensenada and then make the 60 mile run up to San Diego. Being so close to the U.S. is somewhat surreal at this point, and a bit difficult to grasp. The U.S. Coast Guard and various American vessels can be heard on our VHF radio, which is just plain weird. I've gotten used to hearing nothing but Mexican or foreign vessels for the past 6 months, and now the radio is flooded with gringo boaters like us. I feel a bit like a foreigner entering the U.S., even though it is my home, and beloved country. Reverse culture shock is a doozie isn't it? I'm sure I'll feel much better after I sink my teeth into that "Double Double" cheeseburger. I figure that outta whip me back into my American roots. And if that doesn't do it, I'll get a chocolate shake "to go" .just might supersize it to be on the safe side.
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