So the next two days were spent driving through the desert. I stopped for a night in Tuscon and then crossed the border at Nogales. Interestingly, when crossing the border, you talk to no one. Further down the road, you get a travel permit and can purchase Mexican car insurance. No customs officers were checking to see if I had brought any boat equipment with me.

From outside of LA to just outside of Guaymas the roads were very good and relatively uncrowded. One of the hazards of driving in México are the topas. We would call them speed bumps. I think they are probably a wheel alignment mechanic's dream. These are not always well marked. They may have once been painted, but that was a long time ago.

Another concern is the policia. In Guaymas, when I was leaving my hotel to go to the boatyard, I took a wrong turn. There was a wide triangle, no one was coming, so I made a wide u-turn around it to get back the way I had come. Unfortunately, this was in full view of the policia transito. He walked over and in a very practiced manner told me that the ticket would be 1600 pesos and I would have to go to the police station to pay it. After ascertaining that I had about half that much in my wallet (my other money was hidden), he said that I could pay him 750 pesos on the spot.

So I went to the boat and was met by Eduardo, who had helped me several times before decommissioning and recommissioning the boat. I did a bit of work but was able to schedule the launch for the next day. After the splash, I took the boat across the harbor to Marina Fonatur Guaymas.

We worked steadily for about three days. We put the running rigging back on the mast using the messenger lines we had left in their place. We put the canvas and sails back on the boat. We cleaned and polished things and took care of a myriad of other minor chores.

Guaymas is a desert when it comes to good restaurants, especially near the marina. It is an industrial town with a lot of obvious poverty. There is a malecon around part of the bay with statues and a fountain, both of which have fallen into disrepair. Many storefronts need a paint job. At the same time, people are very friendly. I went back to the same Loncheria at the Mercado where I had eaten before, and the same gentleman who had been there last spring greeted me with a warm smile. On the street, I witnessed acts of kindness. And, like everywhere else in México, I saw families together.