06/15/2010, Isla Isabella
No, we are not in St. Tropez, yet! But I did get your attention, didn't I? Ben is working on coming up with more interesting titles for his compositions so I thought I would practice what I preach. Thank you Calvert School for inspiring me! Now, back to the boobies... that would be blue footed boobies on Isla Isabella. Who knew? Like a little Galapagos right in our backyard. (If you live in California, Mexico really is practically in your backyard.) Let's back up though, let's see...where did we leave off? Oh yes, Cabo Expensive. A whopping $250 a night got us a slip in one of the boating mecca's of the world. We had barely pulled in our slip and we had someone washing and shining our boat, all for a price of course, but we were happy to have someone other than our tired bodies to wash the salt and grime off. You can find someone to do anything for you in Mexico. This is a "service" country. I love it. No one is standing at a red light, or a freeway off ramp, holding a sign asking for money. Everyone is doing something to earn a living. Whether it be drawing your picture, playing you a song, washing your windshield at a red light, keeping an eye on your car as you shop, then load your purchases then blow a whistle and back you out (yes, this was even done for us early one morning when there were not even any cars around!). I have to admire this. I know times are tough, but are too many people looking for a free hand out in the US? Even the dogs don't beg here. They are just very cool and nonchalant, and if a treat happens to make its' way to them, they are grateful. Okay, so let's get back to Cabo. We no sooner pull in, stock up at the grocery store (go figure), and realize our fridge and freezer are out. A couple of days and a $1000 later, with a new compressor we are back in business. Cabo was fun for a few days, but everyone begging you to come to their restaurant, or take their tour 24/7, or the very young child selling you Chicklet's gum, just gets old. We understand, but everyone just wants a piece of you. So far, we've only seen this in cities where cruise ships land. Hmmm.... And as we travel further into Mexico, we now realize that Cabo is not a particularly attractive town. So, we scoot up the Sea of Cortez, about 30 miles to the quiet little marina in Cabo San Jose. The grounds are meticulously groomed, the rocks are all placed in a distinct pattern (the dirt is even swept), colorful bouganvillia, palm trees, a beautiful beach and a wonderful meal at Habanero's in the quaint town. Here, is where we start to get a feel for boats/people/money. I just never really put a lot of thought into the fact that we would be meeting, and getting along with, the crew who work on boats. In my world, I just never thought about owning a boat and having a crew live on it full time, to bring it and have it ready, wherever I want, at my beck and call. This one crew/couple we met, even kept the family's dog with them on the boat. (I hated leaving my dog even if I went away for the weekend!). Not that I'm saying anything is wrong with this, I just never thought that we wouldn't necessarily be making friends with fellow boat owners. Frankly, we were so late leaving in the season, I'm beginning to wonder if there is anyone out there like us. What is us? We're not old, we're not young, we're not poor, we're not rich. We have no real schedule to keep. But, we are responsible for educating our nine year old, so we're not exactly free to do whatever we want, whenever we want, because the school thing is always looming it's head over our shoulder. And, as I'm finding out, Ben doesn't learn on my schedule. As Mrs. Price (one of Ben's favorite teachers) always told me, you sometimes have to teach them the same thing 14 times before they get it. Why can't he just get it the first time? I guess I'm trying to say, that we just haven't found where we fit in, in all of this.
Two days later we take off, to head a little further up into the sea on the Baja side before we make the leap across to Mazatlan. Los Frailes here we come. There are only three coral reefs in the United States and this is the only one on the west coast. Known to have giant manta rays and whale sharks. We CAN'T miss that! What a miserable ride though, beating into the wind and short steep waves. Larry kept saying it was just "the cape effect". That is when the wind whips off the end of a piece of land. I don't know, whatever it is it beats you up quick. So, we go to raise the main sail (in the short steep seas and howling wind) because this helps keep the boat from rolling so violently, and when the sail reaches the top, Larry, who is standing at the mast hears this, "Ping, ping."...Oh SH__! He starts screaming orders at me (I think I even heard an F word in there which in 19 years I have never heard from this man's mouth!). That's when I knew this was serious...and my knees start to tremble and buckle. The goose neck broke on the boom. As I reflect back now, it amazes me, that we had all of these things worked on, several times before we left on this journey, and no one knew there was supposed to be a cotter pin in there to prevent THIS EXACT THING FROM HAPPENING?! The seriousness of this is that, if the boom pulls out and swings wildly (in the short steep seas/howling wind) it could put a hole in the top of the boat, knock one of us over the side, etc...you get the drift. Amazing Larry just happened to have a bolt in the cockpit pocket for instances such as these. He has me hold the boom (yeah right, like I'm really gonna be able to hold this if it pulls all the way out!) but I make a valiant effort, while standing, balancing the short steep seas with trembling legs, while he lashes the boom to the mast and fetches his tools. Can I just say that he hammered a bolt back in for at least an hour, never giving up. Amazing. We motored on to Los Frailes, now our genoa AND main sail out of commission. (Thank God our engine still works...knock on wood!) We still have not been able to figure out the problem with the genoa since our harrowing experience just past Ensenada. Anchoring at Los Frailes is nice, quiet, but I have lost my sense of humor. How many more of these scary moments can I take? It's exhausting! It just knocks the wind out of you. Thirty years in the fire dept. must really have prepared Larry for this. It's traumatic for me. We sleep good and are up early the next morning to load our snorkel gear and ourselves into the dinghy and round the corner to the reef. We are the only ones there. (I can do this, I can do this, I'm telling myself as I am still battling fears of just jumping in the water anywhere with no one around!) And we do...and it's beautiful...and no...no giant manta rays or whale sharks, but lot's of colorful fish. Ben is so awesome. This kid is truly more comfortable in the water than he is on land. It is hard to get him out of the water. Success! We feel like we've gone somewhere and seen something that most people don't get to see. (As I look back now I realize that this will be the case with many things along our journey) But, there is always this nagging feeling in your stomach, wishing you could be sharing this with family and friends. Even though the three of us are sharing this together, you would think that would be enough, but it's not. Which is why I write, this way I can share.
So off we go, tootling across the Sea of Cortez. This will be a day, and a night, and a most of the next day trip. It's warm, and there are whales, and dolphins, and we've been seeing these rays (baby manta rays?) jumping, no flying out of the water. It is hilarious! Someone has since told me that they are trying to get off something that is stuck on them? Anyway, the sea is calm, there is no wind so you don't feel any pressure that we should be sailing (we actually could now if we wanted to because Larry fixed the main sail while we were at anchor), and it is just so pleasant. You can walk around without having to hang on for dear life. You can cook without getting sick below. You can read and write and watch TV, and lay on the deck in the sun, listening to music and having a brewski. Oh, and there are birds sitting on turtles, just floating around. Funny. But, I have to say, there is just this weird thing that comes over you, when you're a few miles away from land, on the water, and like I said...it is WARM. You just want to take all of your clothes off! Poor Ben. Not so poor Larry. (Isn't this every man's dream?!) NOT about ME! I don't mean that! I mean, don't most men wish their wife/partner/whatever you're into ran around naked? (Boobies, boobies everywhere)...that's right, I already said that. Just for the record, I keep my underwear on, for Ben's sake. (Nope, no Britney Spears here.) I go lay down around 8 PM, to rest before my 11 - 2 AM shift, and I hear Larry, around 9 (just as I'm dozing off), ruffling around down in the cabin. Turns out the auto pilot went out. Yep...deader than a door nail. And we drove in a complete circle before Larry figured out there was something wrong because the "motion of the ocean" felt different! Hand steer all night?! Heaven forbid! (How did the explorers do this with no modern conveniences?) AND, the power switch that feeds the circuit breaker that feeds the air conditioning (heaven forbid!) and our water maker (okay that is important) failed. Ho hum...another punch in the stomach. Now, let me tell you, we have made the all time fatal mistake of setting a schedule. The mistake of having to be somewhere by a certain time. The mistake of meeting someone who is flying in to stay with us, somewhere where we are not at yet! The THING that we said we would never do! Jessica is flying in to meet us in Puerto Vallarta, IN A FEW DAYS, AND WE NOW HAVE ALL OF THESE THINGS THAT WE HAVE TO FIX AND A HOLIDAY WEEKEND IS COMING UP! (Yes, I'm yelling.) It was cool, hand steering all the way across the Sea of Cortez. I put on the ipod and sang and danced the whole way. (One hand on the steering wheel of course.) The engine is so loud that it's kind of like singing when you vacuum. You actually sound good! So we pulled into Mazatlan (whoa...moist, tropical'ish, screeching jungly birds) thinking we were going to pull into this marina at a resort called El Cid. There, we would have use of all the amenities (pool/waiters who bring drinks to you by the pool!), but nooo, no room. Boo. Up this narrow, VERY shallow inlet a little further and we settled at Marina Mazatlan. Lo and behold we look across the way and there are some old friends from Ventura, John and Maryann on Old Moon! (We also run into more friends, Mike and Lisa on Blue Aweigh, who were lucky enough to get a slip at El Cid, and Stan and Val on Pax Nautica.) Now, let me just tell you, this feels like your childhood, when you run downstairs early Christmas morning and see all these new presents under the christmas tree. It is THAT much of a gift to see a familiar face! (Did I mention it feels very lonely out here?) This is the first time in about twelve weeks that Ben sees another child! There are two families here, both unfortunately heading north up into the Sea of Cortez, as opposed to south like us. Each family has a ten year old girl, which cheers Ben up some, but he still really misses his Fremont buddies. There are cats everywhere in the marina and two adorable kittens. Believe it or not, there is an organization here that spays and neuters and tips one of their ears when their done. But there are just a gajillion of them. It is so cute watching these kids build little kitty condos for them, keeps them busy all day, sweeping up, feeding, and just plain old rearranging. So, let me tell you our new nickname for ourselves, "The Pool Crashers". Because that's what we're getting really good at, hanging out at hotel pools that we are not officially a guest at. Don't worry we order lot's of food and drinks, we're not total moochers! This is where Ben makes friends with Tyler, who is visiting from Minnesota with his two moms. What a blessing this is and what a good time the kids have together! And this is the family we celebrate Easter with, hosting them on our boat for dinner. We like Mazatlan. Everyone, everywhere we have gone in Mexico, has been so darn nice. We start riding the public bus here. It is so convenient, easy, cheap, and appears to be very safe. What a treat to ride a bus to a big grocery store and get real food! Not just tortillas, a few tomatoes, onion, and avocado! Lettuce, cheeses, broccoli! Yeah! The marina we're at is eerily empty, but there are lovely restaurants (where you hardly ever see a soul eating at), and high rise condos built around it. In one of these restaurants is where I have a very interesting meal. Who knew that when I ordered the "seemingly" safe crepe with corn and truffle oil, that it would come stuffed with something black and mushy. Hmmm..."What is THAT?", asked Larry. "I don't know", replied I. However, I proceeded to eat half of it. It didn't particularly taste bad, nor did it taste good. BUT SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE I'M STARVING HERE! (Yes, I'm yelling again.) Have I mentioned how much I like to eat? (Trust me, wherever you are right now, I'm sure YOU can go out and get whatever YOU want to eat right now!) So, when the nice waiter returns to our table to check on us, I politely ask him, "What exactly is this?" He says scratching his chin, "Howz doooz we saiy?...Ummm, ahhh yezs, rotten corn." (You should have seen the look on our faces.) There was an awkward moment of silence, a quick look around for a camera, just in case Ashton Kutcher thought it would be funny to "punk us", and then we politely said, "Thank you." Turns out there is such a thing. It's called corn smut. Google it, I did. So, I survive. Nope, no Montezuma's revenge here! We change our daughters' flight to Mazatlan, instead of Puerto Vallarta. What's a few hundred dollars in the grand scheme of things? We need to get our boat fixed, and this is the place to do it. Service is great and very reasonable. It took four guys, two days (several hours each day) to fix our autopilot, and the total bill was $70.00! Our electrical issues are taken care of (again another one of those things we had had worked on for months) AND something that should have been changed back in the states wasn't, and we could have had a fire on board! So, Jessica carried in the necessary parts from the states. All fixed up and Jessica on board, we head south to Puerto Vallarta, via Isla Isabella.
Again, one of those places you would never go to unless you were on your own boat. We travel all night, knowing this could be a risky anchorage at Isla Isabella (known as "the anchor eater") and if the swell came in from the south we wouldn't be able to stay at all, so arriving first thing in the morning at least might give us a chance to set foot on this uninhabited island known to be a frigate breeding ground, and blue footed boobie nursery. Our 22 year old daughter, Jessica, bravely takes the 2 AM to 5 AM shift. How empowering, for this young woman to be responsible for the boat's and our safety, while we sleep below. Until you're alone, at night under the stars, just you and the ocean, I'm not sure you really know yourself. We are just motoring (no wind), and we have auto pilot, and a chart plotter, and radar with an alarm set if anything comes within a certain range, so it's not like you really have to DO anything, but you do have to keep an eye out...because anything can happen. She does a great job, and really enjoys it. We anchor the next morning at Isla Isabella, an uninhabited island with the exception of a few thousand frigates, and a few hundred blue footed boobies. We dinghy around the corner to a beach that is easier to land the dinghy, and come across a small fishing camp with a few families that are there over the Easter holidays. We trip along a rugged path, full of baby frigates perched in their nests in bush/trees at about eye level. Iguanas were all around our feet, and nothing seemed afraid of us, because they don't know any better. Frigates are those sea birds, that when you look up, they sort of form a W. They can fly for up to a week before touching down, just scooping up fish, on the fly. They care for their young, longer than any bird. The males puff up their bright red necks in courtship, mating with the same female year after year. We were told the Boobies were at the top of the hill, but the path sort of ended in 5 ft. tall grass that I just wasn't real comfortable walking through. We retrace our steps and come across a young Mexican teenager sitting with his Mom in an abandoned building. "Azur?"...and I mock flapping wings with my arms. (Yes, my Spanish charades' continues, although now, a month later, it has progressed a bit more to like "Tarzan meets Jane"!) The boy jumps up and motions for us to follow. At our request he takes us all the way to the top. We were sweating and out of breath, but lo and behold we saw Boobies! Their feet are the most unbelievable blue, kind of a Tiffany blue, and they were mostly in pairs and they really do, do sort of a dance. Our spontaneous guide pointed out the nests with eggs in them, that were so well camouflaged you wouldn't even know they were there if you didn't know what to look for, just before you stepped on them! Success again! We came, we saw, we conquered! We feel like we are getting better at this...this...sailing adventure stuff! So, with a $$ tip and a mucho gracias, we spend the rest of the day kayaking and snorkeling around the island. We lift anchor at 4 AM and make way to La Cruz, a small fishing village just north of Puerto Vallarta. How charming this village is. When you walk the streets, you literally feel like you are on a backstage lot at Universal Studios of some cool, funky, slightly rugged Mexican village of days gone by. Colorful, unique, interesting architecture, tropical plants, dogs running on the cobblestone streets, peoples' front doors that are right on the street are open, babies crying...I know you can picture this. Out of the many unique restaurants here, our first night we find a pizza joint. PIZZA...YEAH! With live music, which even included an old guy playing the washboard! (Yes Freddy Wachter, THE WASHBOARD!) What a hoot! Puerto Vallarta, Just a six peso ride in the bus, has it all. Quaint old city, newer modern areas, surfing towns, green mountains with lush vegetation, and it is very well protected for hurricanes. Yes, this is where we decide to plant ourselves for the upcoming hurricane season. Will we be covered by our insurance if a named or numbered storm hits? No. But, we will be so protected where we will stay that we should be just fine. I am excited to immerse ourselves in this city. There are so many places to explore, out of town as well. If we rushed through Mexico, chances are we would never come back and have this opportunity. With Jessica gone, back to her real life, and with friends waiting for us in Barra de Navidad, we head south again. Our sail is uneventful (thank God!) And as we near our destination, with a quick call on the radio, our very good friend, Dave from Bella, and his dog DJ meet us at the harbor entrance in their dinghy and give us a personal escort into our slip. Wow, what can I say about The Grand Bay Hotel and Marina? Just google/drool over it, and you'll see. This quiet, secret, little get away in Mexico that we never would have known about if we were not on a boat. Ahhh! Within thirty minutes, we were poolside, sipping margaritas, Ben splashing in the multi-tiered pool with water slides, and we're planning dinner with Dave and Renae. The little town of Barra de Navidad (it was discovered on Christmas day and was built on a sandbar, hence the name) is just a short water taxi/panga ride away. Cobblestone streets (cars only appeared here about six years ago), restaurants with colorful tablecloths, waves crashing on the beach, a gentle Mexican breeze yet still so warm. Every morning the French baker drives his panga over to your boat with fresh baguettes and croissants. This is where we stay for a month. (We just pulled away yesterday, and it's almost hard for me to talk about without getting choked up.) We spent a little over four weeks on Isla Navidad, and I know we've made several friends for life. We've been touched by some of the staff at the Grand Bay Hotel like no other. We've also found an Irish coffee in one of the hotel's restaurant here like no other (Buena Vista eat your heart out!). We found an English speaking church in the nearby town of Melaque. God is good. He always knows just the people to put in your life at the right time. San Patricio by the Sea (yes, you can hear the waves crashing during the service) is in this sort of palapa style building, that is rented for less than a $100 per month. The pastor is only here for part of the year, and whoever would like, just kind of fills in the rest of the time. It's a small group right now, during off season, but it reminds us of why we go to church. We go to church, not to find God, because God is around us all of the time. We go to find people. "Church" is not a building. "Church" IS people. There are quite a few Americans and Canadians that live down here full time. What a treat it was to be invited into their homes for meals and friendship. We even took a road trip one day, with our new friends, to a little town called Villa Purification, with the third oldest church in Mexico. A mere 500 hundred years old! Followed by the best pizza we've had in a long time, in a lovely little restaurant on the square. Almost every Mexican town is built around the town square, which has the church on it, and an assortment of restaurants and shops. We visited a coffee farm/co-op run by women. The coffee just sort of grew wild in the shade of trees in a national bio-reserve, where these women would hike and pick the beans, sort them by hand, then roast them. It is delicious coffee by the way. No Folgers here! On our two hour drive home, going around a corner I ask, "Why is there a guy sitting in a little truck waving a flag out the window?" (Silly me!) "There's probably something around the corner." was the reply. Yes indeedy there was. COWS! And lot's of them! Running straight at us! On this highway! And they had big horns! And at the very last second they split and ran around the car. Geez, talk about running with the bulls! Needless to say we were all speechless. Ben said, "Cool." Yes, there are still real cowboys here, that apparently move their cattle on the main roads. We've seen horses loaded in the back of small pickup trucks, riding along just like a dog. Families of four, riding on the equilivent of a Honda 90 dirt bike. It seems we're always chuckling and shaking our head over something. Family is king here. That is what is important to the Mexican people. It is very endearing. The average income is 14K annually. Now, I realize with an average there is a huge range, but I would say the local people we meet are on the lower end of the spectrum, and they are happy. There is a universal healthcare plan of some kind. We have heard rave reviews from numerous people about the medical and dental care they have received here, all at a fraction of what you would pay in the States. Many of the Mexican people we meet have lived in the United States at one time or another, but have no real desire to go back. The school children I've met consistently tell me how much easier school was in the States. Hmmm... During our stay in Barra, one day we decided to hire a tour guide to take us to an active volcano, about two and a half hours away. Let me just add, there are very serious topes (speed bumps) everywhere! Apparently this is the only way they can get people to slow down. So this constant speeding up and slowing down to go over these (not always so clearly marked) bumps, adds a considerable amount of time to your day. (Not to mention, serious wear and tear on your car.) It was a long day but our tour guide, Ray (a total Jack Nicholson look alike!), of Ray's Tours in Melaque was just terrific. This is the way to go. Everything was planned out perfectly. Breakfast outside on the square in Colima, museums, an outdoor park/zoo displaying native birds and animals, a tour of the ex- Hacienda of Nogueras in Comala, where the late artist Alejandro Hidalgo lived and now left as a museum was incredible, a late afternoon drive up to about 5000 feet for the best view of the volcano (bummer, it didn't "puff" for us), and finally a meal in Comala (again, on the very picturesque town square) where you just pay for your drinks and they bring all the food for free. It was delicious! Have you ever heard of the "no tell, motels"? They are for real! (I'm so naïve sometimes.) They are these motels, on the outskirts of towns, with a wall built all the way around so you can't really see in. Each room has a private attached garage that you can pull into and close the door so no one can see your car. They are rented by the night, or the hour, and we hear they are very nice and clean. The exchange of money and/or room service is all done via a lazy susan system to guarantee privacy. I know it sounds sleazy, but think about it. If you were living under the same roof as your multi-generational family in close quarters, you would want some privacy. I'll leave the rest to your imagination! So, as I reflect back on the past year of our "new" life, it is still with mixed emotion. It has been really hard. Hard on Ben, hard on Larry, hard on me, and hard on our relationship. And I know you must just want to roll your eyes. We know how very lucky we are, but living on a boat, in very cramped quarters where if several things are out of place it looks like a bomb went off, where you have absolutely no privacy, where you can actually hear the other person think, is tough. The foods we love either don't exist here, or are extremely hard to come by. I get very creative with my cooking. If I just ate meat, my life would be so much easier. It is strange, but we have eaten less seafood, living on a boat. I don't know if it's because we feel karmically (is that a word?) connected to the fish, or if it's just the smelly fish we see swimming around in the sewage water that just kind of makes it a turn off. We have driven our boat through such large schools of fish that the "fish" smell is overwhelming! We've thoroughly enjoyed the evenings of phosphorescence in the water, tootling around in our dinghy. We marvel at all the different, colorful jelly fish. (When I make it to those big pearly gates in the sky, that is going to be my first question, "God, what's with all the jelly fish and cockroaches?") Ben has graduated from lizard hunting to gecko hunting, and is about two thirds finished with fourth grade. But, I believe he has dramatically improved academically being boat schooled. There is no day dreaming out the port hole with a class of one. Poor Larry still continues to get beat up on this boat. He is always bleeding from somewhere on his body that he has banged. He suffers so much from back pain that most days are a struggle to get through. The smallest wrong move can be a real set back. He has come to know our toilets intimately, on more than one occasion. (Yes, it's time for potty talk.) I have finally convinced him that NOTHING should go down our toilets except what naturally comes out of you. Nope, not even the expensive marine grade toilet paper. I can't even begin to put down in words what it is like to have your heads (toilets) all backed up in about 100 degree weather. As I help Larry to hold the mattress back, or whatever is in the way of wherever he needs to get to, to work on (and believe me, on a boat whatever you need to work on is in the most inconvenient spot!) I just go to my happy place. Sometimes I pretend I'm a contestant on the TV show Survivor, and it's one of those challenges that you have to climb a pole or something, and be in a very awkward position, and whoever can hold on the longest will win. Just so you know...I would win that challenge. The stench often brings me back to reality, but at least I went somewhere alone for a few minutes. A boat is essentially a city within itself. The water, the power, the propulsion, the sanitation system, the refrigeration etc... and then yes, there is the navigation. Speaking of which, we've been slowly navigating north, up to Puerto Vallarta. We thoroughly enjoy anchoring in Tenacatita Bay. We are the only ones there, of course, except for the resident dolphin Nick, and three of his buddies. Nick, has a huge nick out of his dorsal fin, hence the name. They came daily, often scratching themselves on our anchor chain. Tenacatita is famous for it's jungle cruise. A small sometimes hairy to enter inlet, depending on the waves, that once you're through the surf line, you are floating in this mangrove jungle. Very cool. At the end you reach a small village where you can tie up your dinghy and eat at one of the many (always empty) palapas. And feed the always adorable, mangy dog who comes to visit at your table. (Yes, I even order bottled water for the dog.) Maneuvering the dinghy out of the jungle cruise, through the now heavy surf, to get back to our boat is no easy feat. As hard as we try to time the waves, eventually I just have to become one with the front of the dinghy to weigh it down enough so that we won't flip over completely as we climb the incoming wave. We make it. I don't melt when I get wet. Ben gets slightly traumatized (here this kid has swam with sharks yet put him in a dinghy in the surf and he loses it!), but he survives. We try to anchor in front of this beautiful resort called El Tamarindo (google this little gem too, especially you golfers!) but the conditions just don't permit it, but we add it to our list of" things to do" on our way back down in November. Next stop we're hoping, is the little sea side village of Cayeres. Yes, Heidi Klum and Seal just recently renewed their wedding vows there. We pull in, in awe, over the bright, beautiful colors of every condo and home. There are also some incredible homes built up on the cliffs. Nope, no safe anchorage under these swelly conditions we're experiencing from the northwest. Sigh...onto to Chamela, where we know we can safely pull in. All of our travels are carefully planned out for circumstances such as these..."Well, just in case we can't stay here, where can we safely make it to before dark?"...and so the conversation goes. But we're disappointed. We leave Chamela around six at night, in order to come around Cabo Corrientes early the next morning to avoid the "cape effect". We take a beating with steep waves until around midnight when the swell finally calms down. Just remember, faith that is never tested, is not real faith. Tomorrow is Ben's birthday, and I promised him he would wake up in paradise. And paradise is now where we are at. That's Paradise Village Marina in Nuevo Vallarta, Puerto Vallarta. This is where we will spend the next five months, waiting out hurricane season.
With a quick note I would like to add, we have felt great sadness here for the Mexican people because of how they have been affected by the lack of tourism. Between the swine flu scare, the economy, and the drug violence, they have suffered a dramatic decline. I can only share with you our experience for what it is worth, but we have not been sick once this year. There are beautiful, dramatic, interesting places to see, and have never felt that our safety has been compromised in any way. If you are considering a vacation this summer, don't wipe Mexico off your list! Adios dear friend, until next time.
03/15/2010, Cabo San Lucas, Mx
We've finally done it! We have finally cast our lines from the US and are heading south. To think we were shooting for the end of Oct. '09 and the Baja Ha-Ha. Ha!! Our first day at sea was pleasant enough for us, just a little rolly, which really gets to Ben and I quickly. Several hours in we got smart, broke down and took some Bonine. About 45 minutes later we were as good as new. So, as usual with a boat you usually summarize each day with whatever went wrong. So, why should we change now? After our good friends Renae, Dave, Kelly , and Aaron uncleated our lines yesterday from the Kona Kai Marina in San Diego, Larry quickly discovered one of our 125 gallon water tanks was empty. They both were full, but apparently when he back flushed the water maker the day before, it must pull water from the tank, not off the dock hose. Oops! Worse yet, when he started the water maker it wouldn't work. Sh__! We still had one full tank, so it wasn't like we were gonna die, but still...it's stressfull. SHARK! (I feel like one of the dogs from the movie "Up", when they would suddenly stop and yell "Squirrel!) By the way, if you haven't seen this movie...do. Yes, I just saw a shark leisurely swimming by our boat while I'm writing this. See, that is exactly why I'm not jumping in the water in the middle of the ocean just for fun! So, we sailed yesterday, life was good, had the genoa up, which is a really big sail. As we're passing Ensenada it's getting dark (of course) and the wind dies. Well we know we've got some weather coming at us later in the evening so we think it's a good idea to roller furl in the sail and motor through the night. Hmmm...sail won't roll in. It's 6 PM.... 3 hours and 20 minutes later we get it in. It was one of those times when you don't know if you should puke or crap or both. Larry worked and worked on it, thinking the furling system had wrapped around itself and gotten jammed up. Turned out somehow our spinnaker halyard wrapped itself around the top of the genoa, and every time we tried to roll it in, the halyard would wrap at the top and just bind the whole system up. It's just scary when these things happen, and you're tired and it's dark, and you're way out in the ocean, and you know the wind is picking up and let me say it again...this is a BIG SAIL. Lesson learned, don't ever forget to look up when things seem to be going wrong on deck. So, Thursday night was my first" night watch" ever. After the whole genoa fiasco I went to sleep from 10 PM to 2 AM (sort of), and then did watch from 2-6 AM. I was surprised how fast the first 2 hours went by. The third wasn't bad, but the fourth was brutal. It was hard to keep my eyes open. Now I know why the military uses sleep deprivation as a form of torture. That idea must have come from some old sailor! It is scary - in the pitch black - hearing the sound of the ocean. It's just a mental thing you have to get over. I keep thinking about the, not one, but two young girls that are sailing solo around the world right now. They definitely have a part of anatomy that I definitely don't have! Ben's been sleeping 12 hours straight through everything. He's sleeping in our bed while we're under way. It's hard for me to not feel like I'm going to roll out of bed, but not Ben. Even though you think everything is stowed, when a wave hits the boat a wrong way, things crash and glasses clank and my spice bottles fall over and it sounds terrible. All those sounds used to just freak poor Moe out, to the point where he would just be trembling. Yes, we had Moe euthanized two weeks ago. Like I had mentioned in one of my previous updates, we found a wonderful, compassionate, Christian veterinarian in San Diego who would come out to our boat. The end of Moe's life could not have been more comfortable and full of love. We must have kissed and held and hugged him a thousand times in his last few hours. As painful as it has been for us, because we selfishly miss him, there is also a feeling of relief. I think Moe would have tried to keep going for us because that's what he was supposed to do, despite his pain. Jessica has already received his ashes and will be bringing them when she visits us in April. So Moe will continue on our journey with us soon.
Let's continue on the details of our journey from San Diego to Cabo San Lucas. Friday was a lovely day sailing south, warm, quiet with no engine on. All three of us still taking Bonine. It really helps, but makes your mouth terribly dry and I just want to eat all the time! This is not good...at the rate we're making it around the world, I'm gonna be as big as a house! The day flew by, again knowing we were expecting 25-30 knot winds come evening, we put a double reef in the main before dark. I must say, Larry and I are working beautifully together. We think out loud the details of what we are going to do before we do them, and he really listens to me if I have different ideas or opinions. We do have jack lines to clip into for safety, but still my last words are always, "Just DON'T fall in!". Ben is great, and helps out where he safely can. He can steer the boat well when we are both on deck, futzing with the sails. Let me say again, the kid sleeps at least 12 hours straight, as we are traveling. This is a kid who never slept in the car, or an airplane, but put him in a vessel crashing through seas and howling wind, and he sleeps. For all you parents out there, six letters, BONINE. I will say no more. So, Friday night we tried 3 hour watches. Less excruciatingly long. Mine was from 11 PM - 2 AM. The wind and waves had really picked up so I did not sleep a wink from 8-11. When I went on watch I was miserably tired, I set the kitchen timer for 10 minutes, after I've scanned the black sky, checked that we're on the correct course on our chart plotter, checked the radar that there are no vessels or anything hard we might run into, and then I lay down on some seat cushions, wrapping a blanket around me as best I can, close my eyes and hold on for dear life so I don't roll off the bench. Agghhh...just like hitting the snooze on your alarm clock. Beep beep, up I get, doing the whole checking routine over again. When you feel a particularly large wave lifting the boat (sometimes wrongly called a rogue wave) you know there are a few more behind it, so I pray and pray and pray, please God calm the seas. I guess I've forgotten to mention that we have the autopilot on this whole time. It does a much better job at steering than us human kind ever could, except when there is an override, and then it shuts off. So, at about 1:45 AM, I notice a slight wind shift, more from directly behind us. Now we have a preventor on our main sail so we can't accidently gybe, which is a really bad thing to do. I change our course slightly so the wind is hitting the boat at a better angle and make a mental note again of our compass course knowing if it gets anymore rough the autopilot might shut off and I would have to grab the wheel. Knowing Larry would be up in 15 minutes I didn't want to alarm him. But, exactly what I feared happened. The autopilot sounds a God awful alarm when it overrides, I grab the wheel but feel completely discombobulated. The wind is howling, the seas are crashing, the boat is shuttering, the main sail is getting back winded, I start yelling for Larry and then pound on the little port window to our master berth. He runs up, all bleary eyed from a dead sleep and tries to get the boat under control. When it is completely black out it is impossible to see where the wind is coming from so I'm yelling at him where the wind is coming from and he is steering, trying to get the boat in a happy state. My legs were shaking so badly I could hardly control myself. And then Larry said what I feared most, "We have to drop the main.". This means going out on deck, and it's wet and slippery, and the boat is bucking like a bad mechanical bull ride. To make a long story short, we get done what we need to get done, and Larry hand steers through the night. Mind you, even though it is very cold out, he's peeling off his clothes because he's sweating so much because it is such a workout to do this. I lay down in the cockpit, close my eyes, hold on for dear life and pray, and pray, and pray. The sun rises on Saturday morning. I don't know if the sun in the beautiful blue sky automatically makes us feel better, or if it's just the euphoric fact that we survived the night, but we're pretty happy that we can pull into a safe anchorage in a few hours. We tuck in between the coast and Cedros Island and things calm down. Ben wakes up from his perfect 12 hour sleep, completely clueless to the previous night! He lets out his special fishing line that was a gift from his new "old" friend, Captain Dick, and what do you know, catches a 14" Skipjack Tuna! We spray the poor thing in the gills with vodka. (I believe it makes their death less painful?!) He is so beautiful, the stripes and colors. It makes me sad to kill him. Ben gets out his fillet knife and proceeds to fillet him, under his father's supervision of course. Yes, we have him for dinner that night, bones and all, and thank the Lord and the fish for feeding us. I still felt bad.
We pull into Turtle Bay around 3 PM, after 53 hours on the ocean, phew! All of a sudden, this panga is flying towards us, then another one! The first one that reaches us is Annabelle's Fuel, the price is right, and he lets us tie up to his mooring ball for the two nights we are here. We give a brand new soccer ball to the young boy working with him. Larry and I sleep 13 hours that night!
Let's see...Turtle Bay, in one of our books they call it "coyote ugly". But what the area doesn't have in looks, it has in heart, and we've met some very nice people here. When we woke up (finally) Sunday morning, another sail/racing boat had pulled in and were on the mooring ball next to us. Turns out they were in the San Diego/Puerto Vallarta race and were now returning home but had started taking on water. By the time they pulled in by us they said they had probably bailed 500 gallons of water overnight. Scary! They asked us if we had any emergency stuff to fix holes, which we did, only one container. Larry said he'd look for it and bring it over in a little while. He then turned to me and said, "This is our only bottle, do you mind?" Do unto others as you would want them to do to you. If I had a hole in my boat, I would hope and pray that someone who didn't , would give up their single jar of putty. So, that's what we did. Turns out they only needed a little of it and we got the rest back. We called a taxi and went ashore, a water taxi that is, another words, the fuel guy comes out and picks us up and ferries us ashore. There's his house , his wife Annabelle, get it (?), and the dogs, and a couple of kids. I wonder if they had the same conversation we did, "So honey, since you're letting me start my own fuel business/buy a sailboat, I should name it after you...Annabelles/Lisa Kay?" We wanted to walk into town, which really seemd to puzzle them. They wanted to drive us. But it feels sooooo good when your feet hit the ground after 3 days on a boat. You can feel the blood pumping through your limbs, and your heart beating, not from fear but because you're moving! We walked and walked on dusty roads, up hills, down hills, past old garbage dumps, (Ben had a great time picking up interesting rocks and shells) and what do we come across but a cemetery. But not a run of the mill cemetery. An individualized cemetery. Homemade crypts. Some were elaborate, some were not. Some were painted bright colors, some had special windows and doors. It was beautiful, perched up on this cliff, overlooking the ocean. To be born, live, and die in this small village called Turtle Bay. We talked with some parents, around our age, who were there visiting their deceased son. He had passed away several years ago, around the age of thirty. They were playing music from their van and it appeared they had placed some of their son's favorite things on his gravesite, one being a can of beer. Neither one of us spoke the others language, yet through hand jesters we communicated. Through smiles and hugs we communicated. It was a beautiful moment. We continued up the dusty path towards town, they drove by in their van, honked and waved. Oh, here come the Mexican dogs. The rescuer in me just wants to save every one of them, but I can't. But I can step in the first store I see to buy cookies! Some of them are so skinny and so miserable looking it breaks your heart. The others that belong to people are street smart and have impeccable manners. They are the coolest dogs. I wish I could just go around town applying Advantage on them! They're all just chewing away. Well, it's Sunday, looks like the internet café doesn't open back up 'til 4. It's 2'ish, hmmmm, beer sounds good. So, we sit at a little place on the beach, get some cokes, a Corona for mom. Some of the locals are hanging out with their kids, cool dogs everywhere, and I am mistaken for Jennifer Aniston....(I'll give you a moment until you get up off the floor)...okay...let me reiterate...this is a VERY small Mexican town in the middle of nowhere. We just kept hearing, "Brad Pitt's first wife?" It's amazing what a shower and a flat iron can do! We got hungry and found the one restaurant that kind of went with the one motel. Well, the owner/hostess/waitress/cook, was coloring her hair on a chair in the middle of the restaurant. (Yes, we were the only ones there) Now, I understand this sort of thing, and it's important! You do not mess with a woman in the middle of a color! We tell her, in hand jesters, to let her friend finish applying the color, no worries. There were many interesting pictures on the walls. Apparently there were turtles in Turtle Bay at one time (people ruin everything don't they?), and a visit from Poncho Villa. We soon had a wonderful meal of quesadillas, burritos, tacos, guacamole, and one more beer for mom. (Hey, the last few days have been rough!) Poor Ben's tummy has not felt too good ever since that meal. We can just imagine the conversation in town later on..."These three gringos came, walked everywhere, and the lady who looks like Jenn A. had TWO beers! By the way, our 2 cokes and 1 beer cost just $2.70! We were able to send out a few e-mails at the local, so called, internet café/pharmacy, and went back to our boat. Next stop Punta Abreojos, which means "open your eyes", due to the many hazards as you enter this anchorage. We pull in around 7:15 AM after a 16 ½ hour trip. Soooo tired, excruciating after these over nighters. Now a fishing panga comes by us and I wave, they swing by and I say, "Ballenas?" Yes, it is whales I am after! Punta Abreojos is the closest spot for us to be to Laguna San Ignacio, where the once, almost extinct, Gray whales give birth to their young, before they leave and head back up north to feed. It was made a biosphere reserve/world heritage site by the Mexican govt. in 1988. Then apparently the Japanese company Mitsubishi, along with the Mexican Federal govt. wanted to open a salt evaporation plant in the area. Thank goodness that was defeated. To experience something like this has been a 30 year dream for me, since I got my first job at Marine World, since I first learned of Greenpeace, since I bought my first "whale song" record. So, the fisherman calls someone on the radio and a few minutes later says, "7 AM tomorrow, someone will pick us up to take us to the whales! $135, supposedly. Cool! So, we do nothing all day, too rough in this anchorage to lower the dinghy. Bummer...it would feel so good to walk in to town. No cell service, no internet, we feel so disconnected. Our tv is working great though. We, or should I say Ben, can watch it anytime, because Larry had this fancy dome satellite thingy put on the back of the boat (for a mere 5K). It comes out of Puerto Rico - so all of the programs are 3 hours earlier and all of the commercials are in Spanish! We're up bright and early the next AM, so anxious to see the whales! We wait...and wait...8 AM....no one has come. I want to cry. Wait....I see a fishing panga flying in from out at sea. I wave and wave, they pull up perplexed, they don't speak one word of English. "Ballenas por favor?" I say. Again this guy, as we later learn is named Modesto, starts talking with people on the radio, and his cell phone. (Hey, no fair....his cell phone works) Well, his partner starts filleting their overnight catch: one halibut, one shark (it actually had a baby shark in it!) one ray, and one scorpion fish. They were still moving as he's cutting them and all the pelicans (so cool) and birds come to eat the remainders. Ben just thinks the whole scene is the greatest thing since chocolate cake. Finally, Modesto says, "Uno momento." and takes off. I am so hopeful! So, I start ransacking the boat, looking for different gifty things I've hidden away for occasions such as these. I come up with 4 Coronas. He comes back and says, "Okay, go see ballenas." We are so grateful and hand him the beer and he looks at us and says, "Agua?" So, we get that too. He tells us it will cost $150. Okay, so we're all standing there and he's not leaving and he motions for us to get on his boat. We're like, oh! Well, did we have the ride of our life, blood and gaff and billy club and dead scorpion fish and us, in this small wooden panga, flying in the sea to Laguna San Ignacio. It was so bumpy, I had to concentrate to not wet my pants! The ride there was at least an hour (it seemed), and suddenly we see these wierd waves breaking, but not really near any shore. We start to slow down and come to a stop. Now we get it, it's the entrance to this bay. We wait and wait, share our small lunch with Modesto. There is a boat coming! Now we know that only a hand full of people are allowed in each day for a few hours, only on boats operated by naturalists. Sure enough, we transferred to another panga and off we went into this whale wonderland. Unfortunately our "naturalist" didn't speak a word of English, and frankly wasn't even friendly, but we had a great time anyway. We shared our lunch with him too. (I don't think he cared for the ½ peanut butter and jelly sandwich!). You could not look in any direction and not see a whale! Then we would slowly motor over to that area and watch. Babies with their mommies! We would get wet from their exhale! And yes, there really is such a thing as whale breath! It smells really fishy. After several hours and lot's of ooohs and aahhs, he took us back to Modesto, who had been patiently waiting. (I hope he hadn't been drinking those beers, seeing as he still had to take us home!) We spoke with one other group in another panga that was watching the whales for the third day in a row. They were filming for a 3 part, one hour documentary each, called maybe, Oceans Giants. It is about dolphins and whales, and they have been filming all over the world. They said this was the best day they've had. Usually, I guess, the wind and waves are howling in the bay. We felt blessed once again, like so many other times in our lives. As soon as we got back to the Lisa Kay, we pulled up our anchor and took off to Magdalena Bay, our next planned stop on our way to Cabo. It would be a long night underway but we have to take advantage of the weather window we have. The next day on the ocean was glorious! No land or boat in sight, smooth seas, warm sun, we layed out on deck in our underwear! I'm so spoiled on our boat. I can shower, bake bread, vacuum, do laundry in our machine, all underway! Mag. Bay was quiet. We were the only ones there. Our feet had not hit land for four days so we jumped in the dinghy to walk on shore. It felt sooo good. We were seeing several fishing pangas with 2-3 men on each. One had even pulled along our side as we were pulling into the bay, holding up a battery. No problem, 2 AA's coming right up! They smiled their toothless grin and zoomed off. Now we know what we had been seeing in the water...giant squid! They were all over, sticking their beaks out of the water. The panga was full of them. I think these are the ones you hear about, pulling people under water to their death. For some odd reason they're all in the water around here this year. While walking on shore, near the old abandoned phosphorus factory, we came across the fisherman's camp.
It's hard to see the poor conditions they are existing in. Literally just some rags, a few tarps, a few pieces of plywood thrown up here and there to make some sort of a building. It's depressing to me. I've always felt like Larry and I have so much and it hurts my heart when I see people who appear to be struggling. But, who am I to think this? They may have a very rich and fulfilling life. Who am I to think they're not happy because they don't have the typical American A.D.D. (attention deficit disorder) life? Texting, e-mailing, cell phoning, tweeting, twittering, TV'ing, working, volunteering, computering, over-schedules life? Hmmmm.....We woke early the next morning to make way for Cabo San Lucas, 138 miles away. The pressure was, that we needed to round the horn, giving it a wide berth, as early after sunrise as possible because of the "cape effect" (lot's of wind and waves). And, we knew it would take at least 24hrs. to get there. I woke up kicking myself though, thinking why didn't I bake bread or make cookies for these fishermen last night? I wasn't thinking! Quick, I pull up the sofa seat, pull up the floor boards and pull out any extra food I can find. Pasta, marinara sauce, a huge chocolate bar, Girl Scout cookies, 4 cokes, 4 waters, and I can't remember what else...it all seemed so lame. We handed one of the panga's the bag as we were leaving. They looked very puzzled. They took the bag and zoomed away - never even looking inside it. I wonder if they thought we were handing them our garbage? Have you ever wondered if we do things in life, only to make ourselves feel better? Hmmmm...they had not bothered us or asked us for a thing. Who am I to think they wanted anything? And so the chatter goes on and on in my head (yes, you have a lot of time to do this when you are under way!). Blah, blah, blah. Oh, the trip to Cabo was loooong. We rolled side to side, up and down, for what seemed like an eternity. Winds were a perfect 12-15 knots, but the seas....ugh! Your body becomes so fatigued from just trying to stand up, sit up, lay down, and not fall over or off of wherever you are. By the next day I thought this must be what it feels like to have Parkinson's disease. Kind of like that uncontrollable shaking, jerking feeling in your body. I think it's because your muscles can't ever relax. We actually sailed half the time, as opposed to having the motor going. The quiet is so nice. I have everything nicely stowed now so we're not hearing the banging and crashing as we rock. Suddenly, in the middle of the day, we have a vessel directly behind us! About 3 miles out and coming up fast. Hmmm...we're sailing so WE have the right of way, he is the overtaking vessel so WE have the right of way, but he's not altering his course. 2 miles away, we start hailing him on the radio...no answer, 1 mile away, we're looking at him through our binoculars, ½ mile away, (you must be thinking, why doesn't Larry change his course?) well it's just not that easy with the wind and the waves. But, that's exactly what we do, and the moment we do it looks like he's turned also, so we turn back to our original course. Then it looks like he is heading straight towards us again. Oh, it's the swell that made him look like he turned. This is a big fishing boat, with all the tall things that hang off the sides and drag nets? We keep calling and calling him on the radio, no answer. That's it, we're high tailing it out of there. The boat passes by our port stern, no one at the helm, no sign of life anywhere, just black smoke pouring out of the top of this huge, old, rusty vessel. They would have run us over and never have known it. I try to read the name of the ship through the binoculars but the sea is so rough I can only make out a few letters. Next time we'll just take a picture with Larry's camera, then he can zoom in later. I'm really glad this happened during the day, not at night! I was still kind of shook up by this that night and felt really apprehensive about doing my night shift. I couldn't sleep at all before so this made it even harder. A full moon would be nice, because when there is no moon, it is black. I can see the white foam here and there from breaking waves around us, but that's it. The stars are incredible though! Just like an IMAX planetarium. Even though the radar is on, all set up with alarms within certain parameters, believe me, I keep looking behind me! Aaahhh...the sun rises again we're so close to Cabo....we're so excited! We've made it!
To be continued.....
01/20/2010, Puerto Salina, Mexico
Here we are, heading back up to San Diego. We have spent a little over two weeks in wonderful Mexico. Puerto Salina and Ensenada have been our destinations. We have shared time with old friends and made new friends as well. The people in Mexico couldn't be nicer, even if we couldn't understand each other sometimes! (Why in the world did I not take Spanish in highschool?!) It's amazing how far hand signals can get you!
So, we survived our first immigration check in, and our first drink of water from our water maker. (Let me tell you, that first sip is scary, but more on that later!). Raoul, from the Puerto Salina marina, was kind enough to come with us. Ensenada is about a thirty minute drive, along gorgeous coastline, south of Puerto Salina. There was much paper work to fill out (and I might add, none of it is in English!), and many different windows to go to, waiting in line each time. You would often have to go to window 1, then to window 2, then back to window 1, then to 3, then back to 1 etc...you catch my drift. And each time, they would have to re-enter all your information. Sometimes you just stand there while their doing something else (didn't look important) then eventually they look up, to help you. Of course you keep a smile on your face the entire time (who needs lunch and a potty break really anyway?!). Then at the end of all of this, you stand in line to push the "red light, green light". Phew...we got a green light! Lunch here we come! Raoul took us to a fish restaurant where his brother is the chef. And here it starts...Lisa having to politely eat something that is offered to me, all the while keeping a smile on my face. I think it was called something like Fishermans' Stew, or something like that. All I know is I could see the big pieces of octopus (suction cups and all) sticking out of an orange broth, and they told me it would make me "strong like bull"! (My father would have loved this). Thank God for beer! And lot's of lime (helps on everything!). Actually, our lunch ended up being delicious! Grilled white fish with lots of garlic, lemon and butter, salad and rice. (No we haven't been afraid to eat anything yet and have not gotten sick.) We have had more of the most wonderful guacamole the last couple of week s! Two days later, Renae, Dave, our new friend Heidi (an Aussie), Larry, Ben and I, all piled into our rental car (Dodge Charger), and raced out to the wine country (Valle de Guadelupe). Yes, it was tight (I won't even tell you where I sat), but...hey, it's Mexico...you can do things like that here. (God how did we ever survive growing up with no seatbelts or helmets!) It was the most amazing day! We tasted at two fabulous wineries. We were the only ones there. The second being the most fascinating. It is owned by three women, and is right at their house. There were several houses around on the hillside, all eclectic and artsy (a la Beth and Laurie from Niles sort of cool). The grounds were beautiful and emmaculate, huge boulders sprinkled off in the distance that had to have been put there from another time (reminded us of The Baths in the BVI's). The lady of the house was not feeling well but there was a gentleman there (an artist who was firing his tiles in the kiln for a huge wall he has been commissioned to do for Ensenada). His name was Eduardo, but his artist name is Luna. We went into this cool little cave for our tasting, also tasting their homemade olive oil. They also made a sort of healing tea from olive leaves, oregano, and lemon (Tammy F., I thought of you!), but they were out of this. Not only did we purchase wine (of course), we also purchased two beautiful plates (Ben buying one of them with his own money, a fish plate to serve all of his "catch" on!). Then we got a tour of Eduardo's workshop, and he demonstrated making for us one of the tiles,( out of the 885 he has to make) for this wall in Ensenada. It was incredible, and the best part of all (for Ben), was he was given a nice ball of clay to shape and play with. Now there was an alterior motive on Ben's part, because he found out somewhere that you can build a bomb out of clay and batteries and something else. (He's become obsessed with guns and explosives!) Don't worry...we're watching him closely! After that, we went to lunch at a beautiful restaurant called Laja. It was like being at the best of the best restaurant in Napa, but we were the only ones there. The food was spectacular, (Brian you would have loved it!), Ben had two servings of foie gras ravioli, (I begged forgiveness from PETA). And then we went home, sober (at least Larry was) and stuffed. To top the day off, once arriving back at our boats, we jumped in our dinghy's for a mile or two ride out to watch the dolphins feed, and the beautiful Baja sunset. Yes, this was one of those days that you are reminded of why you are cruising. The highs are extremely high, the lows extremely low. I have come to figure out, that cruising is hugely bi-polar. Needless to say, we didn't see dolphins that day, but have every time since. They are the most adorable creatures. Once again I'll say, how could anyone in their right mind intentionally hurt them? It is so cool, racing in our dinghy, and them swimming along side, or crisscrossing in front, leaping out in the air every once in a while, splashing you! They turn on their sides looking at you, smiling. They are so close I am literally inches from touching them. Sometimes we just sit quietly watching them all work together swimming in circles, making the fish all ball up and head towards the surface, all the while the dolphins feasting and the birds getting a free meal as well. At times like these, I could not imagine a better way of raising our nine year old son. Speaking of which, I had the brilliant idea of hiring Heidi to be Ben's tutor whilst we were parked at Puerto Salina. She has a degree in marine biology and comes from a family of teachers, and she is excellent with Ben (I think she is his first true crush!). His time with her has been invaluable, and they did cool things like pick out a huge piece of kelp from the ocean to study. So needless to say, I'm sorry that we left, earlier than expected to get up to San Diego to beat the bad weather that is coming. (Yes our whole life is about weather now!)
So, back to the water thing. We quickly learned that we could not drink the water coming out of the hose at the dock in our marina, (I can't even quite describe the color!). Our very nice neighbor (Jackie) had a car, and offered to drive us to a Home Depot in Rosarito to get a filter to put on the hose. ( I'd like to add, everything is about double the price here, which makes me feel very sad for the people. ) Needless to say, the (expensive) filter did not do the job, so Larry fired up our water maker. We only ran it when the tide was coming in, and seeing as we were the first boat in the marina as you come in, the water should be clean(ish). Just knowing what is in our ocean waters, and knowing it's desalinated just makes you want to gag a little when you first drink it! So, this worked out great for about three days until our water maker stopped working. Uh-oh. (Now we're a little more prepared with some huge jugs of fresh water tied down on deck!) Poor Larry worked on it for two days with no luck. So, we walked four miles round trip to that little mini market to buy water. I tried to not panic on the outside, but I have to admit I was a little worried. Being so fat and happy in safe Fremont, water was just never anything I really worried about . On a brighter note, we made a last minute decision to take the boat to Ensenada, because about thirty of our very best friends from Crossroads Church were coming in on a cruise ship. (Yeah! Fresh water to fill our tanks!) It was so great to see all of them and have them bless the S/V Lisa Kay. Ever since, we have felt a sort of rejuvenation. The past six months have been harder than either one of us could have imagined, but already we are finding strength that we never knew we had. I'm excited as I look ahead now...to the possibilities.