During the night, Eric and I used the 3-hour non-rotating watch schedule we'd come up with during our trip down from Seattle with SCOOTS in November 2013: Eric 7-10 pm, Van 10 pm-1 am, Eric 1-4 am, Van 4-7 am. This schedule works well for us, as we are able to maintain alertness for all three hours, and get enough rest on our off-watches to be refreshed for our next shift. During the day we ad lib, taking naps as needed.

In the morning after our first night on passage, the wind began to pick up, and not long after, we swapped our Code 0 for our heavier Genoa jib. The waves had also come up, pointy one-to-two-meter high things, marching down from the north, about five seconds apart. This wouldn't have been bad at all, had we been heading south, but as we had gone as far south as we could, and were now heading east toward the mainland, these pointy waves caught us on the beam and rolled us around quite a bit. Oh well, at least it was better than crashing north into them.

As the day wore on, we got really tired of all the rolling and pitching, but there was nothing to be done except to suck it up. The wind was blowing 8-20 knots (usually 12-16 knots) from the north, all day and evening, which kept SCOOTS scooting along at 5-8 knots. Even though the wind wasn't particularly strong, what wind there was, combined with the steep, beam-on waves, made for an uncomfortable ride and made things like cooking - and walking - difficult.

At one point, hundreds of dolphins came to play with SCOOTS! They zipped all around, scooting under and around the bow, and occasionally leaping clear of the water in graceful acrobatic arcs. We love it when they come to play! With the rolling and pitching we were doing, the deck was often very close to the surface of the water. I lay down on my stomach near the bow, with my hand extended over the side, hoping to touch a dolphin if the chance presented itself. It didn't, but it was still thrilling to be so close to those amazing creatures!

It eventually became clear that if we kept up our pace - and we had no intention of slowing down, which would have prolonged the discomfort and also caused us to wallow more in the waves - we would arrive in Mazatlan ahead of schedule, in the wee hours of the morning, rather than after sunrise. Lovely.

After reviewing our options - (1) slow down (nope), (2) heave to (nope), or (3) anchor in the dark somewhere upon our arrival - we chose option #3. There were three anchorages available to us: one behind Isla Venados, one behind Isla Pajaros (two islands centrally located between the marinas and the main harbor), and one near Isla de la Piedra (Stone Island), located way south of the marinas, near the main Mazatlan harbor. Any of these would require navigating and anchoring in the dark, making sure to avoid hazards such as rocks (of which there were many, though they were marked on the charts).

We chose to anchor behind Isla Venados, as it was close to the marinas, the route presented few potential hazards, and the anchorage seemed to offer the best protection from the wind and swells.

Once we were about ten miles out of Mazatlan, at about 2:30 am, Eric and I were both up and in the cockpit. Except for dancing with a nearby fishing boat in the dark (he kept confounding us by changing course), everything went smoothly and we dropped the anchor behind Isla Venados - in calm seas and slack wind - at 3:30 am.

Dropped it twice, in fact, before Eric gave up on getting the big Bruce to dig in ("The bottom is like a cement swimming pool!") and just left the 110 pound anchor on the bottom with a long length of chain (which would easily keep us in place unless the wind and seas picked up considerably), set the anchor drag alarm, and we went to sleep for a few hours.