Where to start? How to summarize the last week in this unique and amazing place, with two unique and amazing people? I just reread my daily journal entries, and I have no idea how to mash it down to something under 2000 words, which is about the most I can get away with. I'll give it my best.

Isla Socorro was quite different than moon-like and haunting San Benedicto. For one thing, it has green stuff growing on it. Trees and cactus and even some palms that were brought in at some point. It has land critters, which of course we didn't see because we can't go on land, but there are mice and cats, neither of which are indigenous. You'd think the cats would solve the mouse problem, but instead they're endangering the lizards, which are indigenous. So they're working on getting rid of the cats. They've successfully removed the imported pigs and sheep, which resulted in a huge regrowth of vegetation and an increase in the bird and lizard population. There are parrots, bright green, perfectly suited to hide amongst the bright green leaves of some of the trees on the island.

Socorro is also notable for it's Navy presence. The small Navy base sits in a protected cove with a residential area nearby. We were rather shocked when we arrived for the required check-in to find the gorgeous volcanic walls surrounding the cove littered with graffitti. I can only assume some bored Navy kids were out one night with a can of paint, but man, those cliffs are straight vertical! Ah well, kids.

In all, we spent 8 nights in 3 anchorages around Socorro. Our first stop was Cabo Pearce, where I got my first glimpse of those gorgeous volcanic walls. My inner geologist was agape the entire time, surrounded by streaks of color and texture, ancient volcanic formations that boggle the mind. The anchorage was a challenge, though, very deep and rocky. Rocky is bad for anchors. I won't waste too many words on this, just enough to say that we love sand. We couldn't find sand, even with our fancy mapping sonar bottom painting thing, so we headed for slightly shallower water and hoped for the best. We had a tough night - it was obvious the best is not what we got, and the chain, lots of it down there, was scraping and tangling on the rocky bottom, transferring awful sounds up through the hull into our not-sleeping ears, while the wind blasted and twisted the boat around and the the waves crashed into the volcanic walls, a little too close for comfort. We didn't drag, the boat stayed solid, but in the morning we, and Amphitrite as well, reanchored.

We went on two dives that day. Deneb and Derek came over at 9am for a very thorough dive brief - this spot can be challenging with strong current and a few other tricky things. Deneb's brief was terrific, using the very helpful 3-D maps of the dive site that she helped create when working for the national park service, CONANP. Our first dive was at noon. Deneb set her camera on a little hill underwater, this time she's looking at a manta cleaning station. The dives were not too exciting - the visibility was murky and there weren't a lot of critter encounters, but we did see a few mantas getting cleaned, which is a fabulous sight. One big manta had a remora on each shoulder, perfectly positioned to look like little jet engines, the remora being busily cleaned by little cleaner fish, pecking and poking. More fish swam around the manta's huge wings and a passel of others swam beneath and behind like an adoring fan club. The whole scene reminded me of the time I was in an elevator in New York and Luciano Pavarotti swooped in, wearing a fabulous suit with a white silk scarf wrapped about his neck, surrounded by his entourage. This manta had that air of importance.

Two dolphin swam by looking very late for an appointment, no time to say hi but they did at least come very close, close enough to see that they'd both been around long enough to have chunks and nibbles taken out of their dorsals and tails, with lots of tattoo-like scars all over their bodies. I hear it can be tough to be a dolphin, not all happy-Flipper as I'd like.

When we came up from the dive we had drifted a bit farther out that I'd realized, and Derek, our dinghy top cover guy, was thrashing about in steep swells and breaking waves as the wind whipped around the cape. He was all grins, though, a true salt that guy is, and we all clamored aboard for a raucous ride back to the boats. The second dive was much like the first, a bit underwhelming perhaps largely because of an overcast sky, which mutes the light. But, a dive underwater is always interesting in some way, if you look close. We saw tons of lobster and had a visit from the same two busy dolphins. The clouds and wind and wet splashy ride back left me chilled, though, and I couldn't wait for a hot shower.

Our second anchor job was good, we all had a restful night. I passed on the diving the next day, and Allan skipped the first dive, so he and I were top cover and had a blast up there in all the ocean chaos, riding the steep swells up and down in our faithful dinghy, circling around trying to stay in the general area against the current. The big stressor of being top cover is after about 30 minutes, when you know your divers are coming up soon, and not really knowing quite where. So there's a fierce search for the safety sausage, looking in all directions, trying to avoid a mindset of where you think they'll come up. And when you finally see that silly orange sausage bobbing on the waves, you give a big sigh of relief knowing all is well and your people will be back on board soon.

A quick dive in the morning to retrieve Deneb's camera and then after lunch we had a fabulous downwind sail to Navy Cove, a short jaunt south, reaching over 7 knots on the little jib sail alone. As we neared Navy Cove, we again said a silent thanks for Deneb, she's an ace on all the protocols and of course speaks the language. She got permission on Ch 16 for our boats to enter Navy Cove and anchor while we awaited the inspection. They went to Amphitrite first, and then Deneb boarded their boat to come to help out on Fly Aweigh. Formalities over, we thanked them, parted ways, and motored around the corner to El Aquario. Knowing that, again, this was a notoriously rocky anchorage, we searched hard to find a good chunk of sand, but our first attempt was an abysmal failure. It was apparent as soon as the anchor hit the 88' bottom and we tried to set it that we'd dropped into rock, and it was a trick getting it back up again, but after a few more attempts we found a sandy spot.

We had a few nice dives here, but again visibility was a bit murky and other than gobs of huge lobster and an occasional shark, not a lot to see. We took a fun two-dinghy trip to explore the coast and found a pretty spot to snorkel, I stayed the our dinghy with Amphitrite's dinghy side-tied while the other three splashed about, then we headed over to visit a neighboring boat that had a friend of Deneb's aboard.

Always amazing, the people you meet out in the wilds: the owner of the boat was from the Los Angeles area, was a pilot, had learned to fly out of a nearby airport to our home in Oxnard. So we had lots of fun talking flying stuff an hearing their stories. Always stories. People who come out to places like this are full of them. He had a total of 8 people aboard, including a dive guide from Cabo, a few dive instructors from La Ventana and a few more from Cozumel, a Captain and his partner from Cabo and a friend of the owners. So it was a very dive-intense boat, they had piles of dive gear and at least 13 tanks aboard, with a high-powered dive compressor.

Our third and last anchorage on Socorro was Punta Tosca, another rocky spot with a good sandy area in the middle and well-protected from swell, although we did have a pretty consistent wind whooshing down the canyon and blowing offshore. We had a few nice dives here, it seemed like the better stuff was at about 30-40', lots of color, beautiful fish, some coral, and a wonderful encounter with a few ancient sea turtles. We caught one huge, barnacle-covered turtle sleeping in a corner, and felt bad waking him up, but even though we crouched behind a rock and tried not to look threatening, he slowly gathered himself up and swam off. Hard to believe huge turtles can swim, but they are quite graceful. We were visited by probably the biggest manta we've seen so far, who glided past so close to me I could have touched the wingtip. And a little baby shark decided to try out his menacing skills, circling us over and over again, trying to look big and scary.

We had a super-fun outing one day on our dinghies, Derek and Deneb really wanted to show us the coastline farther up, so we loaded up with picnic lunches and water and headed off, covered from head to toe with sun and water-protective gear. We bashed our way into rather questionable conditions, but we were feeling bold and kept zooming north, following Derek & Deneb who looked back questioningly every now and then to be sure we were still game. It was a chore, but worth it. The coastline really was stunning, this volcanic stuff is, to steal my friend LeeAnne's words, truly eye-popping. We found caves, and arches, and little inlets with walls of nesting boobies and graceful white Paradise birds gliding overhead. We found a cute little beach in a safe nook and dropped our dinghy anchor in the sand, tied the boats together and had our picnic lunch. We shared spinach and garbanzo bean salad, hummus and chopped veggies, whole grain crackers and seedy banana bread while chatting amicably. It's such an amazing life out here - we've lost weight eating so incredibly well, we feel wonderful, we're smart about the sun, we're drinking a lot less alcohol (we're actually pretty much out of alcohol) and staying super-hydrated. We're exposed to the beauty of life on a daily basis and the air couldn't be fresher. We feel supremely grateful. And to top it off, we had a super-fun surfing ride, with following seas and wind all the way back to the boats, making the bash out totally worth the agony.

Deneb had gathered all the footage and data she needed for this trip, so we spent the last few days taking little snorkel trips in the anchorage. On one we found a delightful little aquarium, teeming with fish. Our last day was spent in energetic preparation for the 3-day passage to Tenacatita on the Pacific coast of Mexico. I was fierce in the galley, making a veggie curry, a pot of chili, papaya-strawberry bread, a cabbage slaw and some fragrant jamaica syrup to spice up our fizzy water. Allan fixed some of the hatch latches, put away all our freshly rinsed dive gear and got the boat all ready for the trip.

We wrapped up our time together with a last dinner on Fly Aweigh, sipping jamaica margaritas while the sun slid behind the craggy rock, and shared meal prep - Derek's recipe of ginger-soy marinated tofu, expertly grilled by Allan, and a pasta with roasted red peppers whirled into a creamy, zesty sauce. Deneb gave us hundreds of incredible photos and videos, including some drone footage which, since we never got ashore, really rounded out the whole picture of these islands. Derek stocked me up with lots of new music and some great recipes.

For the few of you reading this blurb who are considering a trip in their own boat to this unforgettable place, I have a few tips: 1- Bring a guide! I can't imagine doing this without Deneb and Derek, despite the thick folder of information I'd gathered from previous sailors here. It's a tricky place to be for a hundred reasons. CONANP has a list of certified dive guides that mostly base out of Cabo. And, if you have 3 or more divers, the rules require a guide. (So that means pretty much everyone.) 2 - Never try to dive without top cover in a dinghy! The current is wild at times, it's darn right dangerous to even leave the drop site, you have to stay close and make sure your divers come up safe and near enough to get to you. Stories of the dinghy moving off into calmer waters to wait out the 30-minute dive often end in sketchy events, divers come up too far off for the dinghy driver to see the sausage and too far to hear a whistle, while the current continues to sweep the divers out to sea. But having a qualified guide (See #1) would negate that. Oh, and by the way, you can always come here on one of the dive boats that make the trip regularly. They're staffed by incredibly capable people who know this area like the back of their hands.

For us, we are just amazed this all worked out so wonderfully. We made it! With the help of Derek and Deneb, we sailed to the Revilla's and dove with mantas, dolphins, turtles, and sharks! Hammerheads, silkies, white tips and silver tips. And lobsters, and crabs, and although we didn't swim with them, we saw, and heard many humbacks, including some mama's with their babies. We watched crisp, clear sunsets and saw a zillion stars. We still have our beloved Mantus anchor, despite efforts by the rocks to steal it away. And we still have fresh fruit! 2 oranges, an apple, a kiwi and 2 grapefruit, so no scurvy.

Now, back to civilization. Back to restaurants and streets and grocery stores. Back to noise and chaos. Back to laundromats! We'll see what the next adventure is, but it will be hard to top this.

(Oops, didn't make the 2000 word limit.)

Our tracker, and current weather:
https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/SV_FlyAweigh/