Greetings from Mexico -- Manana land -- where things (like blog updates) happen in slow motion.

We are back in La Cruz and semi-permanently anchored with a broken anchor windlass. It started acting up in Yelapa when we anchored in over 80'of water and I had to help it retrieve 250' of chain. Turns out that we are drawing 195 amps any time the windlass attempts to turn and this indicates imminent smoking death for the motor. Not good! I optimistically made up my mind that changing the gearbox oil and lubing the shaft would help. It looked pretty easy and the manual just says disassemble by taking off the top screw and "lift the bushings and drums off the shaft". After three days of sitting on the bow with a gear puller swearing and bashing things with a large hammer and pry bar, the damn thing finally came apart in a shower of cast aluminum fragments. A bunch of new parts are now on order and we are waiting for someone to carry (schlepp) them and a new motor down to us in their luggage. In the mean time we are anchored and itching to go somewhere but stuck for the moment unless I can get motivated enough to up anchor by hand a couple of times. Since we are here for a bit, I took the opportunity to take the gooseneck off and give it a good inspection and found that the internal welds are broken and the gooseneck fitting is cracking on both sides. More great news, but glad to find it here! We dropped it off with a friend who delivered it to a local machine shop that does stainless welding, apparently the instructions translated poorly and it is now back at the same machine shop for round two. With Mary's input and some breakdowns I suddenly seem to have a to-do list that will keep me busy for a couple of months and coincidently have only one month until we are scheduled to leave. At least some things never change. Beats having a job, though!

We are still having a great time in the area. On inauguration day we were in a tiny Mexican village that is only accessible by water, with no roads that reach it. Horses (and burros) are the prime means of transportation everywhere on the one path along the river that is the backbone of the town (about 15 buildings). It was weird; we were starting a hike up to a waterfall and walked past a restaurant patio that was packed with gringos gathered around a TV that was set up on a chair with the cable run across the path to a satellite dish. We walked in and got to watch the swearing in and Obama's acceptance speech surrounded by cheering and crying cruisers and ex pat's in the middle of this tropical village with no roads. It was a surreal experience, but we were right there with everyone laughing and crying that the last 8 years were over and this was a new chapter for America. Listening to the acceptance speech did hammer home that times are really bad back home and Obama made numerous references to taking the reigns in a time of crisis. We are so insulated that this was pretty shocking as well. It seems like our world revolves without much awareness of what is happening outside and is filled with mundane day to day stuff like making the daily hike into the little tienda for basic groceries or needing to fill the water jugs, and sometimes much more exciting events like encounters with really big scary whales in the anchorage after dark while we are rowing our tiny dingy out to the boat loaded with us and the kids.

The sea life continues to be too cool to believe. Many nights we can hear the humpbacks calling and singing through the hull and the last couple of nights they have been coming into the anchorage and swimming between the boats. It is awesome to be startled awake wondering what woke you, and realize that what sounds like a cross between a grunting lion and an asthmatic horse is a whale breathing next to the boat. A couple of days ago we were snorkeling and playing on the beach with our boys and several kids from another boat, and we found an octopus, about 8" long, under a rock on the beach. It was a fascinating creature for the kids and I put my hand into the inch deep water and it crawled up onto my hand. As I was starting to feel a bit creeped out by its sticky crawling arms wrapping around my fingers, something scared the little guy and he inked on my hand and split. As if this was not gross enough, it fled with only six of its legs, leaving two of its legs still writhing around, stuck to my fingers. Ughhh! I still have the heebee jeebees.

Everyone is having fun and we have settled into the lifestyle and now know why people end up staying in Mexico for years.