There is a joke going around the cruisers…it’s a bit vulgar but it humorously sums up the stress that can occur between couples in this cruising life -especially when the heat rises above about 95 degrees:
When a husband and wife are first married the romance and lust is strong -sex in the bedroom, sex in the kitchen, sex on the dining room table. Then when you begin cruising you spend months together in the confines of a mere 40 or 50 feet and the lust begins to wane. By the time the hot, muggy, sticky summer season comes the only kind of sex you’re having is “hall sex.” That’s when, forced to squeeze pass each other in the tiny hallway of your boat both husband and wife spit out a venom filled “screw you.”
But seriously ……the other day I was sitting with a group of cruising couples when one of the husbands said that he thought that the biggest threat to a couple out cruising is not what we all thought it would be. We spent heaps of time, energy and money preparing for and learning about heavy weather, storm tactics and emergency first aid. But in the end it’s not whether or not you can weather the storm it is how you manage to live in harmony for long periods in small spaces virtually an island unto yourselves. According to my (male) friend it’s making your relationship work in spite of us and all of our idiosyncrasies and bad habits.
Somehow his statement caught me by surprise even though I had a similar conversation with a group of cruising wives just a week or so earlier. We had all gone out to dinner in a big group –ten of us- and all the men sat at one end of the table and all the women at the other. The men we assumed were talking about what they always talk about: engines, oil changes, anchors, bad anchoring neighbors and their spouse’s relentless need to make just one more trip to the grocery store for provisions. The women began talking about blue and pink jobs and the division of labor, among other things.
If you’re not familiar with blue vs. pink it’s the tendency to split the jobs aboard a cruising boat into his and her jobs. His type jobs would be engine repair, oil changes, driving the boat, plotting a course, visiting the Port Captain and handling the “paperwork”, various small boat projects involving muscle and cursing, picking the exact anchoring spot, manning the BBQ, hauling in and cleaning fish while underway and rebuilding and or unplugging the plugged heads (boat toilet.)
Her type jobs would be cooking, dishes, counter wiping, bed making, refilling the water bottles and returning them to the fridge, keeping track of the boats official paperwork so it can be found for the blue job trips to the Port Captains office, putting the dirty laundry into a laundry bag, hauling it out of the boat and off the dock up to the machines or to the lavanderia, doing bucket washing of the laundry if away from the dock for extended periods of time, keeping the social calendar straight, scrubbing the smelly heads, cleaning up the mess after the captain unplugs or rebuilds the head, defrosting the freezer (again,) creating something fresh and delicious for yet another potluck out of the last of the food stuffs when you have been at anchor away from civilization for days on end, producing a three course meal when the captain says “hey, I caught this big fish why don’t you join us for dinner? No, you don’t need to bring anything,” all sewing or painting projects, finding the next roll of toilet paper in one of the many lockers, filling the water tanks, replacing the batteries in the autopilot remote, keeping track of the manuals for all the boats inner workings and electronics, finding things in the fridge, hearing (and understanding) the “Captain” when he gives instructions while facing away from you into the wind with the stereo and the engine running, keeping the log, keeping the camera and video camera batteries charged and ready, turning off and on any switches for the engine and electronics, washing the outside of the boat, cleaning the windows of the dodger, picking up after moving the boat (anywhere), tending the sheets and halyards after a sail, hanging the fenders and dock lines when entering a marina, putting away the fenders and dock lines when leaving a marina, fetching and carrying all the little bits and pieces for any of the captains projects, remembering to turn on the anchor light (before you leave the boat in a strange new anchorage and might likely not return until its pitch friggin black out with no moon in sight,) remembering to turn off the anchor light so it doesn’t run the batteries out, keeping track of the cruisers guides, fetching the camera from below whenever a dolphin or whale appears, taking your allotted four hour on four hours off watches while on passages, getting the captain up for his watch, grabbing the captain a cup of tea before you go off watch, keeping track of the binoculars, putting up the sunshade, taking down the sunshade, finding a place to put away all the provisions you just lugged home on the bus, repacking the refrigerator to accommodate all the new groceries you just lugged home on the bus, finding room in the packed refrigerator for the big bloody smelly fish the captain just caught, finding room in the fridge for a garbage bag full of live three foot squid, dividing the trash into organic and non-organic garbage, taking the trash up to the dumpster, burning the trash when appropriate, taking a stroll on deck before the winds come and blow all your bits and pieces overboard, cleaning the entire boat after being in the yard, keeping track of the family back at home, reminding the captain of all those “don't let me forgets”...…being available 24/7 to step in and help with any of the blue jobs and last but certainly not least being responsible for knowing where everything is at any given time in spite of the fact that the Captain never returns anything to its place or puts anything new away that comes on board.
It was reassuring to talk to four other wives and hear that we all had essentially the same list of complaints regardless of how long the couple has been cruising or how long they have been together or how much the whole thing was “his” idea to begin with. Now mind you I really really wanted to come on this adventure and I am not sure I want to hear exactly what those fellas talk about when we are not paying attention. I am sure they have a great many complaints they could throw our way but unless we all have been struck stupid by the heat it seems that there is a bit of an imbalance in the blue vs. pink job base.
One complaint I have heard repeatedly from our side is what happens at the end of a trip. Now let’s just say you did a long passage today. Not an overnight but say a 70nm day trip (at 6mph it’s roughly an 11 ½ hour day.) The captain drove the boat all day save for the times he said “pay attention I am going below.” He plotted the course, steered through any delicate places and kept you safe. If you left early in the morning sometimes he sends you back to sleep for an hour or so.
You on the other hand did nothing but read your book all day. Oh and cook, serve and clean up three meals and a snack, keep the daily log, clean the whole boat so it would be finished and behind you when you arrived so your time at a new place is free and unfettered, fetched the drinks, took the helm when there was something else the captain need attend to, helped put out the fishing lines, brought in the fishing lines before you pulled into the marina so they wouldn’t get tangled in the prop, help put up the sails, help take down the sails, picked up everything as the day moved along, readied the fenders and dock lines and stood by to fend off as you pulled in to the marina, jumped off the deck onto the dock and caught fast a line.
There are a couple of things that can happen next. One is the captain steps off the deck to the dock and immediately begins saying hello and shaking hands and hugging all the friends that come out to say hello while you are suddenly left trying to a) keep the boat from smashing into the dock while the fenders you hung are simply not fending because the dock is either way higher or way lower than you had anticipated or b.) are left scurrying around trying to make fast the other three lines that are just hanging limply off the boat as el Capitan begins telling tales and making plans for dinner which he will expect you to be ready for in five minutes.
The other thing that may happen is the captain who has been busy driving the boat all day will (if he doesn’t have to go to the Port Captains office) suddenly sit down and either a.) Take an instantaneous nap or b.) Grab a book and begin reading.
In the mean time you are left to turn off the key, switch off the electronics and flip the solar back on, switch off all the other pertinent switches, fill in the log, put away the fishing gear, coil the sheets and make fast the halyards, put on the sunshade and the sail cover, cover the dodger windows with sunshades, put away the binoculars, camera, life jackets and cruising guide, switch the VHF to the proper hailing frequency so you can hear your friends calling, put away the books and Kindles, find the fly swatter, take out or put in the bug screens and do a quick load of dishes before finally sitting down to soak up the experience.
Now again I say this all rather tongue in cheek but there does seem to be a pattern emerging. One of the biggest arguments we have had while being out here occurs when I spend time working on “my” projects. The captain often sees those moments as time in which to relax and do nothing. Now remember when the captain is working on a project he expects that he will have help and back up. Someone must fetch and carry, hold this and grab that and someone must decipher what “this” is and exactly what “that” might be. The captain rarely (hah!!!) preplans a job ahead of time in order to gather the things together he will need or prepare a work space. Nor does he talks the project through in order to let the helper know what it is that we are trying to do and how he expects that to be carried out. Reading minds becomes an important job skill to have though one which is rarely possessed.
When the job is through the Captain sits down and either a) takes an instantaneous nap or b.) begins reading a book. Meanwhile the pink jobee is left putting away all the tools and cleaning up any mess “we” made during the project.
To the Captains credit once they know that someone is “having a bad day” they often step in to handle some of the slack. I have even heard of a Captain or two stepping in to do a load of dishes! There is also often a willingness to grab a meal out whenever possible to help lessen the load (though this might be more a reaction to wanting to find the nearest ice cream joint or a halfway decent piece of chocolate cake but valuable none the less.) Most importantly though is that the captain generally take his job of keeping us safe very seriously which is of course priceless.
The women I see who are most comfortable with themselves and their partners and seem to be having a great time out here tend to have one thing in common: they actively sought out opportunities to learn new skills. For my part I’ve invested time in being around other women with similar sailing goals. I did this through new friends, books, classes and seminars, workshops, attendance at monthly meetings of Northwest Women of Boating (a women’s only boating group,) and involvement in “ Womens Day” at The Boat Show. I have tried to both participate fully and actively share my own experiences with other women. I even found myself braving a live audience once while giving a presentation at the Seattle Boat Show.
The women I meet have done their best to learn all they could about the blue jobs around them: diesel engines, 12volt electrical systems, navigation, taking the helm of their own vessel including learning to dock (one skill many women never try and master.) Meanwhile there seems to be a pretty large lack of Captains trying to learn how to master many of the pink jobs aboard.
Regardless of the weight of blue vs. pink most of us are having an amazing time out here. In fact I think most women would agree with me in saying that full time cruising makes a relationship better. In the 14 months we have been cruising fulltime I only know of one woman who called it quits. I think she was overwhelmed and could just never feel safe and secure out here. Despite trying many different options in the end she chose to return home leaving her husband to make his way back to Seattle with their boat.
When we do this thing well we get to experience a very close and intimate relationship. We are forced to learn to truly rely on one another in a way that is not seen so much back in the 9 to 5 world. Handling problems together, making it through a crisis or experiencing moments of amazing natural wonder can leave the two of you, as a couple breathless and filed with gratitude. Which mostly makes up for the times you want to throw them overboard and conveniently forget all those man overboard drills.
Kat
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
7/10 Just how hot is it in Baja?
We’re well into the summer here in Baja and there are plenty of signs showing our numbers have definitely dwindled. First of course was the mass exodus: Americans and Canadians making a quick bee line for the boarder by the plane and car full. Second the fleet is now down to somewhere between 30 and 40 boats. Third, even the Mexicans are complaining of the heat. And lastly, when we attended Baja Geary’s annual 4th of July party half the group was floating around in the shallows of Burro Cove by 1:00pm trying to beat the heat and by 3:00pm even the folks who had neglected to wear their suits were emptying their pockets and going in fully clothed. You just don’t see that happening back in Seattle.
I need to give a big hoorah to Baja Geary our Ham radio weatherman. He’s not even a boater but somehow he got roped into taking over the job of weatherman when the last volunteer bailed out. Every morning for the last eleven years for no pay and little glory Geary rolls out of bed and begins his search through a number of online sources which he then compiles into a highly accurate forecast. Come 7:45 he cheerfully hands out the result of his search via his Ham radio and gives us the information we need to be safe here in the Sea during these lonely summer months.
Things are different in the Sea. Back home we are really quite spoiled with access to near instant news and weather. Here in the Sea we are very isolated from radio, TV, telephone and cell phone coverage. There is no NOAH, no USCG automated reports and no CH5 but we do have Baja Geary to help us avoid Chubasco’s, Elefantes and the biggest weather boogey man of them all hurricanes.
Geary is a huge lifeline for the few boats that choose to summer over in the Sea. Those of us who choose to stay are here for the duration. We can’t change our minds and leave because going south out of the Sea leads us right into the summer storm path. The north end of the Sea is the only (relatively) safe harbor from the annual hurricane season and Baja Geary lets us know if anything is sneaking our way. His hard work and dedication has made him a very important part of our little community and has made it possible for us to safely summer over in the Sea. Plus we get a party to boot!
This cruising stuff is a pretty tight community but timing is everything and though most of us have been following essentially the same route for an entire season amazingly many of us have yet to cross paths. So, the 4th of July party was a great chance to meet some new friends and catch up with some we had lost track of.
The weather for this years’ party was overcast which we were all glad to see after a week of 102, 103 and 104 degree days. We joked with some other Seattle folks that the overcast skies we were under would help us feel like we were back at home for the 4th but the comparison quickly vanished in the heat.
It is hard to adequately describe summertime in Baja for anyone who has not experienced it. Knowing that we planned to spend our whole summer in the Sea many veterans tried describing it for us. Still I don’t think we were able to really appreciate the scope of things to come. We pooh poohed it a bit wondering “just how bad can it be?” and considering things like “well, the Mexicans have been doing it forever and they seem none the worse for wear.” Or “just how hot can it be? We began to get an inkling of what to expect when we met Jerry a few weeks ago. He lives year around in Baja and he bought a second house just to combat the heat! His primary residence is a beautiful custom home near Santispac that overlooks the bay. It is stunning and has everything a man could want- except air conditioning. Because of the lack of AC (and not being set up to ever have it) he retreats to a second home just a few miles away in Mulage` June thru October. In spite of having spent many years here his second home is simply a retreat from the heat.
Then we began noticing more and more that many of the folks who were saying they would be staying for the whole season had AC on their boat. These cruisers were all decked out with big window AC’s cobbled into hatches and many were planning on retreating to marinas if or when the heat get to unbearable. A couple of the marinas here even drum up business by advertising unlimited free electricity which if you have AC (we don’t) equates to no cost air conditioning if you stay at their docks.
We of course came expecting hot. We had heard all the warnings and had spent time and money planning our strategy. I made a four piece sunshade, bought a hammock and sewed shades for all the hatches to help deflect the heat. I also brought along a wind scoop (to hang over our main cabin hatch to catch any bots of breeze) and brought materials and a pattern for making two more.
We had been warned that many cruisers experience refrigeration failures in the tropics so we super fortified our refrigerator before we left Seattle. In fact the refit/rebuild of our refrigeration system held us up for more than a month from our planned Seattle leave date. Our problem in receiving our vacuum panels in a timely manner from Glacier Bay pales at the problems of a few of our friends. One couple we know spent $10,000 on a Glacier Bay top of the line system and then paid another $10,000 to have it installed only to have the system completely give up the ghost once in the heat of Mexico. Having a system failure is always a big problem anywhere out of the states (heck it’s a problem back in the states!) but worse than the failure was the discovery that Glacier Bay has completely withdrawn from supporting their marine systems. They provide no technical support, no parts and no repair. Several other couples we know with Glacier Bay systems are living on the edge aware that if their system fails the problems could be monumental.
Our system is working great. All our delays and troubles in rebuilding our old system literally from the inside out of the old ice box and replacing it with a system that takes far less power than the systems of anyone we know was worth all work we did. Other than a broken thermostat we are replacing this weekend our fridge seems to be handling things better than anyone’s we know.
Again it’s hard to adequately describe the Baja summer. Once we passed the summer solstice in June it has felt like someone flipped a switch. All I can say is WOW! The water here is already almost 90 degrees and the really warm stuff hasn’t even hit yet. When you jump in the water for relief which we do many times each day it doesn’t really cool you down it just rinses off the sweat and gives you the temporary advantage of evaporation.
The wind blows and it feels like you are standing in front of a giant hair dryer turned on high. I wake up in the morning and no matter the time I inevitably roll over to try and get back to sleep searching for just a few more minutes when I can be oblivious to the heat. They tell me that August and September will be nearly unbearable. ~sigh~
For the first time in my life I am sleeping with no covers what so ever, not even a sheet. The first morning I woke up realizing I had slept that way the entire night I was amazed. Even in the hottest weather back home I have always kept a sheet over me in fact I truly didn’t think I could sleep with no covers. Now the top sheet and coverlet aren’t even on the bed, (because for heaven’s sake you can’t have anything bunched up around your toes) both lay folded atop a cabinet nearby hoping against hope that we might actually need them again. You lie in bed at night with your hubby trying not to touch because any added heat feels like a thousand pounds against your skin.
We spend most days lazing away doing nothing but reading and swimming. We look forward to being underway because while underway even if there is no wind we theoretically make our own breeze. Yea right! Yesterday with not a breath of wind we motored along for 13 hours for a crossing from Mulage` to San Carlos. By the time we arrived the heated up engine compartment radiated so much heat I could hardly walk down the corridor past its doors. All the heat had dissipated throughout the boat and when I turned on the cold water taps the water that came out felt warm enough for a Seattle winters bath. On arrival we were both so hot and tired that we couldn’t even rustle up the energy to go in to get something to eat. We dined on cold tuna sandwiches and chilled chocolate pudding.
Everything spoils faster too. Garbage goes gooey and buggy in no time. Potatoes, carrots and cabbage that used to last for weeks stored in the cool of our bilge keeps turning to mush in a matter of days as do the eggs that used to keep unrefrigerated for weeks at a time. Our cockpit which is equipped with a dodger and a bimini now simply doesn’t offer enough shade for two bodies. While the sun clocked around us during our long passage I was constantly shifting to whatever small patch of shade I could find. The small movable side shade I made helps but the cutout between dodger and bimini leaves a wide swath of heat no matter the angle of the sun. While at anchor we have a shade to put in place but while underway it has to be moved in order to drive.
In spite of having done my best to stay out of the sun there was no hiding from the heat and by nightfall I was covered with a tiny blistery heat rash. At least being on the water does offer some relief but I know that once we step off the boat the heat will drip down on us again in force. It makes it hard to look forward to the next few days of provisioning bus trips and sitting around the laundry mat doing the wash. Then again civilization means AA meetings and ice cream, endless cold drinks, dinners out and visits with friends.
In addition to the heat we will soon have the opportunity to experience a few other Baja weather phenomena. There will be thunder storms, lots of them. Lovingly called thunder bumpers by our weather guru Geary. They will come quickly and furiously and each one will threaten to strike our mast and blow out all of our electronics. Then north of us will be the Elefantes: localized katabatic winds carried by clouds that look like elephant trunks. They appear as evening approaches and the cool air from the Pacific Ocean is funneled across the Baja peninsula from west to east through arroyos to the warm waters of the Sea of Cortez. They can carry winds of 40, 50 or even 60 miles per hour in the middle of the night. The unpredictability of Elfantes requiring us to take down our sunshade ever darn night before we go to sleep just to have the privilege of putting it up each morning before the air becomes to unbearable once again. Then there are the Chubascos: the late afternoon to early morning summertime convection storms that come in the form of short lived but fierce squalls. They carry thunder and lightning, high winds and heavy rain. Oh Joy, again another reason to be sure and take down that four piece sun shade and clear off the decks every afternoon.
The hurricanes are something else altogether. Best case scenario is nothing will even develop into a tropical depression much less a names hurricane. The hurricane history of Baja shows that it is highly unlikely for a names storm to make it into the Sea and of those that do very, very few ever move farther north than the 27th parallel. The most likely scenario will be the entire fleet will learn of a developing storm (there is usually at least a four day warning) and in response we will all move as quickly as possible to the nearest hurricane hole in the northern Sea. Once there we will continuously monitor the storm as it develops or dies and begin working like the devil for days preparing for the worst. We will strip all of our sails and then literally take everything off the deck that isn't glued down. When all the work is through we will spend the next hours talking with friends in the fleet, commiserating and considering tactics and anchoring techniques . Then the storm will blow itself out well below the 27th parallel and we will sit in the windy rain slowly putting our boats back together and leave with nothing more than a few stories to tell.
Oh yes I almost forgot the jelly fish. The warmer the water gets the more the jellyfish begin to invade the Sea of Cortez. They relentlessly sting any bit of bare skin they come into contact with and they have no regard at all for me or how hot I am or that I just need to cool off!! We had Lycra jellyfish suits made when we were in Mazatlan for just this problem. They have long sleeved tops, legging type bottoms, booties, gloves and a hood all with tight binding to keep the tentacles out. I still have a couple dozen tiny red welts on my torso where I got my first bit of a tentacle piece trapped under my suit during my daily exercise swim. At first it felt itchy and then like tiny needles poking into me. By the time I made it back to the boat I was scratching all over like a cat with fleas, neck to hip. The only way to stop the itch is to wipe your skin down with urine, ammonia or vinegar. No ammonia on board I chose the vinegar( and smelled like a pickle for two days.)
The cabin is hot. I can’t tell you how hot. As I write this at 8:00am we are under a light cloud cover and there is enough wind in the anchorage to rattle the rigging yet it is already 86 degrees. Bill is wearing Jockey shorts and I am in a light cotton sarong and he just commented that it’s nice and cool this morning! Sheesh, I sweat when I make breakfast –cold cereal and tea. Maybe I don’t really need tea every morning? If you go below anytime during the day it feels like a sauna yet even that becomes a retreat at midday. We have covered the cabin cushions and the bed sheets with towels to soak up the sweat (yea I know ewwww.)
Bill and I were talking a few days ago and I had to laugh, all my life I thought I just simply didn’t sweat much. Surprise! He laughed and called me a wuss and said that after being a lifelong Seattleite I just never have had a chance to practice. Now I climb out of bed, wander around as long as I can with nothing on, take a shower and pull on the lightest clean clothes I can find. The moment I move I am instantly damp all over. I then stay damp for the rest of the day except for any precious minutes in air conditioning when we are out and about. I truly had no idea my body could even act this way. I sweat just thinking about turning on the stove to cook dinner. When I step into the galley –even if I am not going to cook - the sweat starts to roll. My body seems to make a preemptive strike leaving me feeling a bit like one of Dr. Pavlov’s’ dogs. Baking? Ha! Try me in December.
The BBQ now has become worth its weight in gold and I no longer look at the whole men and barbecuing thing the way I used to. As far as I am concerned Bill can keep barbecuing, forever. I’ll plan my meals around it (and cold sandwiches) and I’ll even buy him one of those silly “kiss the cook” aprons if he wants one.
Right now dips in the water and the hot winds are the only things that make this bearable. At least here there are no bugs so we are able to keep all our hatches, port lights and companionways wide open to any hint of wind. If we end up in another buggy anchorage…..well I just can’t imagine it. I do wish we had gotten a couple of blow up air mattresses so we could sleep in the cockpit or on the foredeck in comfort. They are now on the wish list and if I am lucky we will find some before the summer is out. We do already have cockpit cushions that help but it’s not the same good night’s sleep I could be getting on my innerspring mattress.
But it’s truly not all bad. We are having a great time we are just finding that we have to shift priorities a bit and give ourselves permission to stay in siesta mode. I am looking forward to more nights of falling asleep under the amazing Baja night sky and have to remember to do a Google search for summer meteor showers so I will know when the prime viewing nights are due. In the remote anchorages away from the towns and cities with no light or air pollution the sky is utterly amazing. In fact so far the sheer beauty of the place along with the wildlife and the fishing is winning out over the problems with the heat but come August, well we will have to wait and see. I just wish I had packed more swim suits.
Kat
I need to give a big hoorah to Baja Geary our Ham radio weatherman. He’s not even a boater but somehow he got roped into taking over the job of weatherman when the last volunteer bailed out. Every morning for the last eleven years for no pay and little glory Geary rolls out of bed and begins his search through a number of online sources which he then compiles into a highly accurate forecast. Come 7:45 he cheerfully hands out the result of his search via his Ham radio and gives us the information we need to be safe here in the Sea during these lonely summer months.
Things are different in the Sea. Back home we are really quite spoiled with access to near instant news and weather. Here in the Sea we are very isolated from radio, TV, telephone and cell phone coverage. There is no NOAH, no USCG automated reports and no CH5 but we do have Baja Geary to help us avoid Chubasco’s, Elefantes and the biggest weather boogey man of them all hurricanes.
Geary is a huge lifeline for the few boats that choose to summer over in the Sea. Those of us who choose to stay are here for the duration. We can’t change our minds and leave because going south out of the Sea leads us right into the summer storm path. The north end of the Sea is the only (relatively) safe harbor from the annual hurricane season and Baja Geary lets us know if anything is sneaking our way. His hard work and dedication has made him a very important part of our little community and has made it possible for us to safely summer over in the Sea. Plus we get a party to boot!
This cruising stuff is a pretty tight community but timing is everything and though most of us have been following essentially the same route for an entire season amazingly many of us have yet to cross paths. So, the 4th of July party was a great chance to meet some new friends and catch up with some we had lost track of.
The weather for this years’ party was overcast which we were all glad to see after a week of 102, 103 and 104 degree days. We joked with some other Seattle folks that the overcast skies we were under would help us feel like we were back at home for the 4th but the comparison quickly vanished in the heat.
It is hard to adequately describe summertime in Baja for anyone who has not experienced it. Knowing that we planned to spend our whole summer in the Sea many veterans tried describing it for us. Still I don’t think we were able to really appreciate the scope of things to come. We pooh poohed it a bit wondering “just how bad can it be?” and considering things like “well, the Mexicans have been doing it forever and they seem none the worse for wear.” Or “just how hot can it be? We began to get an inkling of what to expect when we met Jerry a few weeks ago. He lives year around in Baja and he bought a second house just to combat the heat! His primary residence is a beautiful custom home near Santispac that overlooks the bay. It is stunning and has everything a man could want- except air conditioning. Because of the lack of AC (and not being set up to ever have it) he retreats to a second home just a few miles away in Mulage` June thru October. In spite of having spent many years here his second home is simply a retreat from the heat.
Then we began noticing more and more that many of the folks who were saying they would be staying for the whole season had AC on their boat. These cruisers were all decked out with big window AC’s cobbled into hatches and many were planning on retreating to marinas if or when the heat get to unbearable. A couple of the marinas here even drum up business by advertising unlimited free electricity which if you have AC (we don’t) equates to no cost air conditioning if you stay at their docks.
We of course came expecting hot. We had heard all the warnings and had spent time and money planning our strategy. I made a four piece sunshade, bought a hammock and sewed shades for all the hatches to help deflect the heat. I also brought along a wind scoop (to hang over our main cabin hatch to catch any bots of breeze) and brought materials and a pattern for making two more.
We had been warned that many cruisers experience refrigeration failures in the tropics so we super fortified our refrigerator before we left Seattle. In fact the refit/rebuild of our refrigeration system held us up for more than a month from our planned Seattle leave date. Our problem in receiving our vacuum panels in a timely manner from Glacier Bay pales at the problems of a few of our friends. One couple we know spent $10,000 on a Glacier Bay top of the line system and then paid another $10,000 to have it installed only to have the system completely give up the ghost once in the heat of Mexico. Having a system failure is always a big problem anywhere out of the states (heck it’s a problem back in the states!) but worse than the failure was the discovery that Glacier Bay has completely withdrawn from supporting their marine systems. They provide no technical support, no parts and no repair. Several other couples we know with Glacier Bay systems are living on the edge aware that if their system fails the problems could be monumental.
Our system is working great. All our delays and troubles in rebuilding our old system literally from the inside out of the old ice box and replacing it with a system that takes far less power than the systems of anyone we know was worth all work we did. Other than a broken thermostat we are replacing this weekend our fridge seems to be handling things better than anyone’s we know.
Again it’s hard to adequately describe the Baja summer. Once we passed the summer solstice in June it has felt like someone flipped a switch. All I can say is WOW! The water here is already almost 90 degrees and the really warm stuff hasn’t even hit yet. When you jump in the water for relief which we do many times each day it doesn’t really cool you down it just rinses off the sweat and gives you the temporary advantage of evaporation.
The wind blows and it feels like you are standing in front of a giant hair dryer turned on high. I wake up in the morning and no matter the time I inevitably roll over to try and get back to sleep searching for just a few more minutes when I can be oblivious to the heat. They tell me that August and September will be nearly unbearable. ~sigh~
For the first time in my life I am sleeping with no covers what so ever, not even a sheet. The first morning I woke up realizing I had slept that way the entire night I was amazed. Even in the hottest weather back home I have always kept a sheet over me in fact I truly didn’t think I could sleep with no covers. Now the top sheet and coverlet aren’t even on the bed, (because for heaven’s sake you can’t have anything bunched up around your toes) both lay folded atop a cabinet nearby hoping against hope that we might actually need them again. You lie in bed at night with your hubby trying not to touch because any added heat feels like a thousand pounds against your skin.
We spend most days lazing away doing nothing but reading and swimming. We look forward to being underway because while underway even if there is no wind we theoretically make our own breeze. Yea right! Yesterday with not a breath of wind we motored along for 13 hours for a crossing from Mulage` to San Carlos. By the time we arrived the heated up engine compartment radiated so much heat I could hardly walk down the corridor past its doors. All the heat had dissipated throughout the boat and when I turned on the cold water taps the water that came out felt warm enough for a Seattle winters bath. On arrival we were both so hot and tired that we couldn’t even rustle up the energy to go in to get something to eat. We dined on cold tuna sandwiches and chilled chocolate pudding.
Everything spoils faster too. Garbage goes gooey and buggy in no time. Potatoes, carrots and cabbage that used to last for weeks stored in the cool of our bilge keeps turning to mush in a matter of days as do the eggs that used to keep unrefrigerated for weeks at a time. Our cockpit which is equipped with a dodger and a bimini now simply doesn’t offer enough shade for two bodies. While the sun clocked around us during our long passage I was constantly shifting to whatever small patch of shade I could find. The small movable side shade I made helps but the cutout between dodger and bimini leaves a wide swath of heat no matter the angle of the sun. While at anchor we have a shade to put in place but while underway it has to be moved in order to drive.
In spite of having done my best to stay out of the sun there was no hiding from the heat and by nightfall I was covered with a tiny blistery heat rash. At least being on the water does offer some relief but I know that once we step off the boat the heat will drip down on us again in force. It makes it hard to look forward to the next few days of provisioning bus trips and sitting around the laundry mat doing the wash. Then again civilization means AA meetings and ice cream, endless cold drinks, dinners out and visits with friends.
In addition to the heat we will soon have the opportunity to experience a few other Baja weather phenomena. There will be thunder storms, lots of them. Lovingly called thunder bumpers by our weather guru Geary. They will come quickly and furiously and each one will threaten to strike our mast and blow out all of our electronics. Then north of us will be the Elefantes: localized katabatic winds carried by clouds that look like elephant trunks. They appear as evening approaches and the cool air from the Pacific Ocean is funneled across the Baja peninsula from west to east through arroyos to the warm waters of the Sea of Cortez. They can carry winds of 40, 50 or even 60 miles per hour in the middle of the night. The unpredictability of Elfantes requiring us to take down our sunshade ever darn night before we go to sleep just to have the privilege of putting it up each morning before the air becomes to unbearable once again. Then there are the Chubascos: the late afternoon to early morning summertime convection storms that come in the form of short lived but fierce squalls. They carry thunder and lightning, high winds and heavy rain. Oh Joy, again another reason to be sure and take down that four piece sun shade and clear off the decks every afternoon.
The hurricanes are something else altogether. Best case scenario is nothing will even develop into a tropical depression much less a names hurricane. The hurricane history of Baja shows that it is highly unlikely for a names storm to make it into the Sea and of those that do very, very few ever move farther north than the 27th parallel. The most likely scenario will be the entire fleet will learn of a developing storm (there is usually at least a four day warning) and in response we will all move as quickly as possible to the nearest hurricane hole in the northern Sea. Once there we will continuously monitor the storm as it develops or dies and begin working like the devil for days preparing for the worst. We will strip all of our sails and then literally take everything off the deck that isn't glued down. When all the work is through we will spend the next hours talking with friends in the fleet, commiserating and considering tactics and anchoring techniques . Then the storm will blow itself out well below the 27th parallel and we will sit in the windy rain slowly putting our boats back together and leave with nothing more than a few stories to tell.
Oh yes I almost forgot the jelly fish. The warmer the water gets the more the jellyfish begin to invade the Sea of Cortez. They relentlessly sting any bit of bare skin they come into contact with and they have no regard at all for me or how hot I am or that I just need to cool off!! We had Lycra jellyfish suits made when we were in Mazatlan for just this problem. They have long sleeved tops, legging type bottoms, booties, gloves and a hood all with tight binding to keep the tentacles out. I still have a couple dozen tiny red welts on my torso where I got my first bit of a tentacle piece trapped under my suit during my daily exercise swim. At first it felt itchy and then like tiny needles poking into me. By the time I made it back to the boat I was scratching all over like a cat with fleas, neck to hip. The only way to stop the itch is to wipe your skin down with urine, ammonia or vinegar. No ammonia on board I chose the vinegar( and smelled like a pickle for two days.)
The cabin is hot. I can’t tell you how hot. As I write this at 8:00am we are under a light cloud cover and there is enough wind in the anchorage to rattle the rigging yet it is already 86 degrees. Bill is wearing Jockey shorts and I am in a light cotton sarong and he just commented that it’s nice and cool this morning! Sheesh, I sweat when I make breakfast –cold cereal and tea. Maybe I don’t really need tea every morning? If you go below anytime during the day it feels like a sauna yet even that becomes a retreat at midday. We have covered the cabin cushions and the bed sheets with towels to soak up the sweat (yea I know ewwww.)
Bill and I were talking a few days ago and I had to laugh, all my life I thought I just simply didn’t sweat much. Surprise! He laughed and called me a wuss and said that after being a lifelong Seattleite I just never have had a chance to practice. Now I climb out of bed, wander around as long as I can with nothing on, take a shower and pull on the lightest clean clothes I can find. The moment I move I am instantly damp all over. I then stay damp for the rest of the day except for any precious minutes in air conditioning when we are out and about. I truly had no idea my body could even act this way. I sweat just thinking about turning on the stove to cook dinner. When I step into the galley –even if I am not going to cook - the sweat starts to roll. My body seems to make a preemptive strike leaving me feeling a bit like one of Dr. Pavlov’s’ dogs. Baking? Ha! Try me in December.
The BBQ now has become worth its weight in gold and I no longer look at the whole men and barbecuing thing the way I used to. As far as I am concerned Bill can keep barbecuing, forever. I’ll plan my meals around it (and cold sandwiches) and I’ll even buy him one of those silly “kiss the cook” aprons if he wants one.
Right now dips in the water and the hot winds are the only things that make this bearable. At least here there are no bugs so we are able to keep all our hatches, port lights and companionways wide open to any hint of wind. If we end up in another buggy anchorage…..well I just can’t imagine it. I do wish we had gotten a couple of blow up air mattresses so we could sleep in the cockpit or on the foredeck in comfort. They are now on the wish list and if I am lucky we will find some before the summer is out. We do already have cockpit cushions that help but it’s not the same good night’s sleep I could be getting on my innerspring mattress.
But it’s truly not all bad. We are having a great time we are just finding that we have to shift priorities a bit and give ourselves permission to stay in siesta mode. I am looking forward to more nights of falling asleep under the amazing Baja night sky and have to remember to do a Google search for summer meteor showers so I will know when the prime viewing nights are due. In the remote anchorages away from the towns and cities with no light or air pollution the sky is utterly amazing. In fact so far the sheer beauty of the place along with the wildlife and the fishing is winning out over the problems with the heat but come August, well we will have to wait and see. I just wish I had packed more swim suits.
Kat
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The Sea is never still
We were in Sweet Pea Cove near Santa Rosalia. It was after ten and the cove was quiet as I lay on the bed in the aft cabin completely absorbed in a good book when Bill tells me he thinks there are dolphins outside. I hold still, listening but can’t hear anything through the hull so I scramble out on deck.
Soon an almost full moon will reflect bright silver off the water and light up the little cove almost like daylight but now it’s pitch black dark. I stand still listening and realize the dark water is definitely not still or quiet. I can hear water lapping at the beach, a fish jumps, a bird cries. All around me a thick marine layer of low fog is already creeping in and soon will coat everything with dew. In the morning the bees will come, drawn to the fresh water. I hear the distinct splat splash of a leaping ray and then a breath.
My mind see’s whale but my eyes and ears are still searching for dolphin. No clicks or whistles and then the breath again: too big for a dolphin. The night feels soft and thick. My eyes keep searching but instead are drawn to the flash and twinkle in the dark the water. The night’s phosphorescence is unusual. Normally we see trails. Whenever a fish moves we catch the swish of a trail lit up with phosphorescence. Tonight instead there are thousands of tiny twinkling bits. The phosphorescence sparkles and shifts with every movement of sea life. Like fairytale snowflakes it sparkles and shifts below the surface.I hear the breath again. How far off is it? I move to the bow of the boat and stand alone and silent while my eyes adjust to the lack of lights. In the distance I can see the slight golden glow of Santa Rosalia. There is the breath again, closer, closer, then moving off again in the distance. The fog seems thicker now. The night is alive with sounds. I keep thinking about what it would feel like to hear all these sounds around me on a passage, then imagine what it would sound like if I had never been on the Sea before.
I hear the breath again. How far off is it? I move to the bow of the boat and stand alone and silent while my eyes adjust to the lack of lights. In the distance I can see the slight golden glow of Santa Rosalia. There is the breath again, closer, closer, then moving off again in the distance. The fog seems thicker now. The night is alive with sounds. I keep thinking about what it would feel like to hear all these sounds around me on a passage, then imagine what it would sound like if I had never been on the Sea before.
More breaths, I am sure now that it is a whale. Then, a sound like a gunshot -the whale is breaching somewhere out there in the dark- then again.
Three days ago as we moved from the marina at Santa Rosalia to Sweet Pea Cove we came upon a sight we had never seen before: ten or more sleeping Sperm whales. Spread out in two’s and threes we could see them off in the distance as the sun reflected off their backs. At first they looked like huge logs but I knew we were far from the land of logs. As we motored closer I could see a spout here then there. They weren’t reacting to our presence at all. Then as we got close enough to see them clearly they would slip backwards, great heads lifting up and then slipping beneath the surface before rolling forward and down into the depths. Each new group we neared stayed still until we were nearly upon them and then slip back, great head lifting, roll forward and down into the deep.
Tonight it sounded like just one. Was the whale I was hearing now a mighty Sperm whale? Another smash and a splash then one more breathe then nothing. I stood on the deck listening for a while but heard nothing more. As I moved below again I wondered what kind of a whale it had been. How many were there? Why do whales ? Why would a whale breach in the darkness? Did he know I was there?
Grabbing for my book I scrambled back onto the bed thinking about whales and life. Every new wildlife experience here in the Sea shows us a new piece of nature and every new cultural experience shows us another view of our world. This whole experience surely has been the chance of a lifetime and tonight I feel grateful.
Kat
Soon an almost full moon will reflect bright silver off the water and light up the little cove almost like daylight but now it’s pitch black dark. I stand still listening and realize the dark water is definitely not still or quiet. I can hear water lapping at the beach, a fish jumps, a bird cries. All around me a thick marine layer of low fog is already creeping in and soon will coat everything with dew. In the morning the bees will come, drawn to the fresh water. I hear the distinct splat splash of a leaping ray and then a breath.
My mind see’s whale but my eyes and ears are still searching for dolphin. No clicks or whistles and then the breath again: too big for a dolphin. The night feels soft and thick. My eyes keep searching but instead are drawn to the flash and twinkle in the dark the water. The night’s phosphorescence is unusual. Normally we see trails. Whenever a fish moves we catch the swish of a trail lit up with phosphorescence. Tonight instead there are thousands of tiny twinkling bits. The phosphorescence sparkles and shifts with every movement of sea life. Like fairytale snowflakes it sparkles and shifts below the surface.I hear the breath again. How far off is it? I move to the bow of the boat and stand alone and silent while my eyes adjust to the lack of lights. In the distance I can see the slight golden glow of Santa Rosalia. There is the breath again, closer, closer, then moving off again in the distance. The fog seems thicker now. The night is alive with sounds. I keep thinking about what it would feel like to hear all these sounds around me on a passage, then imagine what it would sound like if I had never been on the Sea before.
I hear the breath again. How far off is it? I move to the bow of the boat and stand alone and silent while my eyes adjust to the lack of lights. In the distance I can see the slight golden glow of Santa Rosalia. There is the breath again, closer, closer, then moving off again in the distance. The fog seems thicker now. The night is alive with sounds. I keep thinking about what it would feel like to hear all these sounds around me on a passage, then imagine what it would sound like if I had never been on the Sea before.
More breaths, I am sure now that it is a whale. Then, a sound like a gunshot -the whale is breaching somewhere out there in the dark- then again.
Three days ago as we moved from the marina at Santa Rosalia to Sweet Pea Cove we came upon a sight we had never seen before: ten or more sleeping Sperm whales. Spread out in two’s and threes we could see them off in the distance as the sun reflected off their backs. At first they looked like huge logs but I knew we were far from the land of logs. As we motored closer I could see a spout here then there. They weren’t reacting to our presence at all. Then as we got close enough to see them clearly they would slip backwards, great heads lifting up and then slipping beneath the surface before rolling forward and down into the depths. Each new group we neared stayed still until we were nearly upon them and then slip back, great head lifting, roll forward and down into the deep.
Tonight it sounded like just one. Was the whale I was hearing now a mighty Sperm whale? Another smash and a splash then one more breathe then nothing. I stood on the deck listening for a while but heard nothing more. As I moved below again I wondered what kind of a whale it had been. How many were there? Why do whales ? Why would a whale breach in the darkness? Did he know I was there?
Grabbing for my book I scrambled back onto the bed thinking about whales and life. Every new wildlife experience here in the Sea shows us a new piece of nature and every new cultural experience shows us another view of our world. This whole experience surely has been the chance of a lifetime and tonight I feel grateful.
Kat
The Sea is beggining to show herself
The Sea is starting to really show herself. Lots of new marine life. Have you ever seen a blue footed booby? They are of course striking for their bright blue feet but they are really beautiful birds. They are diving birds, very sleek with a long narrow beak that is the same shade of blue. The blue shows itself off against an amazingly brigth white breast.
At Sweet Pea cove every evening the birds come out in force to feed right at twilight. The many many birds hitting the water in sheer dives sounds like far off firecrackers…bang, bang, bang. The area is also thick with bat rays that jump with a bang. They jump all day but especially in the early am and the late pm. They are fun to watch for two reasons. First they just make you laugh the way they come barreling out of the water like wet bats. They are very wiggly and they often do complete flips before hitting the water. Sometimes they skip across the water like a skipping stone. Second you can watch them from quite a ways off and you see them fly out and smack back into the water and then hear the sound a second later. Growing up in Seattle during the SST and the era of sonic booms I think of those little rays breaking the speed of sound! Sitting in the cockpit in the evenings your surrounded by the sounds of the birds feeding and the rays jumping….bang bang, smack, bang, smack smack, smack.
The last three nights there has been a sperm whale feeding in the channel that runs between Santa Rosalia and Sweet Pea Cove. I think they are feeding on the squid that are here in abundance now. Three nights running now I caught the sound of a breath and so went up on deck. Mostly it has just been feeding but one night out in the darkness it was breaching. The sound of a creature the size of a sperm whale breaching in the darkness is awesome and a little bit earie.
Yesterday we went out on a dinghy ride and had a manta ray come up next to us. It was a very small manta –maybe two and a half feet across- not a huge ten footer but he took a look at us and sort of veered away then changed his mind and came back to check us out. They are known to be very inquisitive and seem to actually seek out people which is why it is possible to “ride” them while diving in some places in Mexico.
We have not been diving here yet but the clarity is of the water is getting better every day. The snorkeling is pretty good but it too depends on how hard the wind has been blowing and how much muck has been stirred up. The visibility at Sweet Pea had been really good then a southern blew in and the water murked up with tons of silt from the upwind gypsum mine. Oh well its getting clearer every day.
We’ve had two four foot+ mahi mahi on but lost both before we could get them aboard which really chaps Bills you know what. Especially the second one because he had said “next time I am going to drag it behind the boat and wear him out for half an hour before trying to get it on board” then dumped that game plan when it hit the line.
The good news is that the fishing is picking up. The big pelagic fish come into the Sea with the warmer waters and are beginning to arrive now. On our trip across the Sea from mainland (Guaymas) to Santa Rosalia we saw tons of big fish in the water. We saw a huge fish swimming under the boat, a sailfish breaking the water just aft of our stern as we flew by at 8knots and many sightings of big guys jumping off in the distance. Then we went fishing and could see big fish tearing across the surface leaving a sort of jet stream V as they streaked across the surface. None of them would hit our lures, oh well we'll keep trying.
One afternoon at anchor one of the other boats in the anchorage came over and offered us some squid. Seems Pat got talking with a panga full of fisherman and successfully traded a Hustler magazine for a bucket of squid. Pat was being generous in sharing which was lovely but what he really wanted was to find someone who knew how to cook and clean them. Bill was able to find a sight online that went through the cleaning process so knife and cutting board in hand we motored over to Pats boat. I was a bit surprised at first because I was expecting five or six inch squid but instead was faced with a water pail sized bucket full of three footers. It turns out too that he didn't really want to learn how to clean them and was happy to sit and watch as I made my way through the bucket full. It also turned out that Pat has no refrigeration aboard so he gave us a huge pile of fresh calamari. The next day some friends happened into the cove so I sautéed up a batch and served it with aoli -a big hit all around. When we make it back to Santa Rosalia we will try and find a squid jig and will try our own hands at filling a small bucket.
At Sweet Pea cove every evening the birds come out in force to feed right at twilight. The many many birds hitting the water in sheer dives sounds like far off firecrackers…bang, bang, bang. The area is also thick with bat rays that jump with a bang. They jump all day but especially in the early am and the late pm. They are fun to watch for two reasons. First they just make you laugh the way they come barreling out of the water like wet bats. They are very wiggly and they often do complete flips before hitting the water. Sometimes they skip across the water like a skipping stone. Second you can watch them from quite a ways off and you see them fly out and smack back into the water and then hear the sound a second later. Growing up in Seattle during the SST and the era of sonic booms I think of those little rays breaking the speed of sound! Sitting in the cockpit in the evenings your surrounded by the sounds of the birds feeding and the rays jumping….bang bang, smack, bang, smack smack, smack.
The last three nights there has been a sperm whale feeding in the channel that runs between Santa Rosalia and Sweet Pea Cove. I think they are feeding on the squid that are here in abundance now. Three nights running now I caught the sound of a breath and so went up on deck. Mostly it has just been feeding but one night out in the darkness it was breaching. The sound of a creature the size of a sperm whale breaching in the darkness is awesome and a little bit earie.
Yesterday we went out on a dinghy ride and had a manta ray come up next to us. It was a very small manta –maybe two and a half feet across- not a huge ten footer but he took a look at us and sort of veered away then changed his mind and came back to check us out. They are known to be very inquisitive and seem to actually seek out people which is why it is possible to “ride” them while diving in some places in Mexico.
We have not been diving here yet but the clarity is of the water is getting better every day. The snorkeling is pretty good but it too depends on how hard the wind has been blowing and how much muck has been stirred up. The visibility at Sweet Pea had been really good then a southern blew in and the water murked up with tons of silt from the upwind gypsum mine. Oh well its getting clearer every day.
We’ve had two four foot+ mahi mahi on but lost both before we could get them aboard which really chaps Bills you know what. Especially the second one because he had said “next time I am going to drag it behind the boat and wear him out for half an hour before trying to get it on board” then dumped that game plan when it hit the line.
The good news is that the fishing is picking up. The big pelagic fish come into the Sea with the warmer waters and are beginning to arrive now. On our trip across the Sea from mainland (Guaymas) to Santa Rosalia we saw tons of big fish in the water. We saw a huge fish swimming under the boat, a sailfish breaking the water just aft of our stern as we flew by at 8knots and many sightings of big guys jumping off in the distance. Then we went fishing and could see big fish tearing across the surface leaving a sort of jet stream V as they streaked across the surface. None of them would hit our lures, oh well we'll keep trying.
One afternoon at anchor one of the other boats in the anchorage came over and offered us some squid. Seems Pat got talking with a panga full of fisherman and successfully traded a Hustler magazine for a bucket of squid. Pat was being generous in sharing which was lovely but what he really wanted was to find someone who knew how to cook and clean them. Bill was able to find a sight online that went through the cleaning process so knife and cutting board in hand we motored over to Pats boat. I was a bit surprised at first because I was expecting five or six inch squid but instead was faced with a water pail sized bucket full of three footers. It turns out too that he didn't really want to learn how to clean them and was happy to sit and watch as I made my way through the bucket full. It also turned out that Pat has no refrigeration aboard so he gave us a huge pile of fresh calamari. The next day some friends happened into the cove so I sautéed up a batch and served it with aoli -a big hit all around. When we make it back to Santa Rosalia we will try and find a squid jig and will try our own hands at filling a small bucket.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
6/6 Outbound Guaymas
This morning we head away from Guaymas to a clean quiet anchorage in San Carlos. The cabin temperature at 7:30 is already 93 degrees so we are leaving bright and early to beat the heat - as if that's possible. Our time in Guaymas has been productive which is great because I think the heat is going to slow down any ideas we might have on doing boat projects or much of anything really.
I finally finished our sunshade which other cruisers had told us would be essential for surviving a summer in the Sea. I started working on the sunshade way back in January while in La Cruz. The idea behind the sunshade is to have a awning of sorts over the whole boat to keep the beating sun from raising inside temperatures to intolerable levels.
You would think it would be simple. Maybe a big rectangle suspended from the rigging and your good to go. Except for two important problems. 1. we have four solar panels that can't be covered and 2. that rigging.
The rigging of a sailboat is a complicated thing. We have an eight shroud, two spreader rig with a back stay, the forstay and a stays'l stay. In addition we have a boom brake that attaches port to starboard midship and a set of moveable running rigging for heavy downwind passages. Then of course there are the three sheets and four halyards (sailors' names for all those lines.) Plus of course the mast itself and the boom all of which are in the way of anything one tries to suspend "above" the deck.
As for the four solar panels: with them we generate enough electricity to stay at anchor unplugged from civilization essentally indefinitly. With them covered we would be forced to run our engine daily to run the ship. Running the engine means heat and that is a kill joy.
In the end it required aproximatly 45 yards of hem, 50+ grommets, 25 bungy cords, a handful of snaps and 8 hemmed slits for rigging, sheets and stays to produce four seperate 6'x12' panels aloft and one 5'x5' foot panel that snaps off and on to provide side shade as the sun clocks around us. I already can feel a difference but I suspect in the end we will find out that either we love it and use it faithfully or it simply becomes too much of a bother. Did I mention that we will have to take it down every night or risk having it torn to smithereens in one of the Seas frequent night Coromuels or Elefantes -sudden night winds that blow in the Sea in the summer?
Bill was busy installing both our repalcement power inverter -so I can run my sewing machine at anchor and the new radar. The radar turned into a bit f a fiasco unfoartunatly. The chart ploter we purchased before we left Seattle was purchased partly because it was supposed to support running several different electronics all at the same time onthe same viewing screen. It already was wired with: chart plotter, GPS, VHF, Loud Hailer, AIS and Depth. The radar should have been a simple install and add on. Unfortunatly Standard Horizon doesn't supply enough ports to run a radar too. Eventually Bill wound one of his miracles by installing a set of switches in the cockpit so we can toggle from one application to the next without needing to go below to flip a switch. That going below by-the-way would have primarily been Kats job. Up, down, up, down -a one more trip and I will scream kind of job.
Yesterday was our first truly hot day -even with the new shade in place. I am not going to try complaining to all of you. It is just the way it is here. We came looking for Christmas in shorts and flipflops, tropical beaches and warm blue waters. Those things don't come without an off season. When it comes to the tropics the off season always brings either blasting heat or drenching rains from storms. Oh, and hurricanes or typhoons.
Today there is the first murmer of a "depression" off to the south. Not a hurricane, not even a tropical depression. Nothing for us to worry about, no need to run or prepare but it is the season and we check every day. When woke up I looked at our cabin thermometer, just to check because last night had felt hotter than any other so far. Sure enough the cabin was 90 degrees at 8:00am. By 3:00pm with every port, hatch and companionway wide open it was 99!
We worked a few hours in the morning and the afternoon was left to relax and do nothing. While doing the laundry I slipped into my swimsuit before hitting the marina laundry mat. Wash in, a dip in the pool. Move the laundry and another dip in the pool before doing the fold and fluff. This morning its a flurry of getting ready. A quick trip to the bank, sunshade down and stored, hatchboards away, everything stored and a quick check out with the marina. Swimming and hopefully a cooling breeze. I cant wait. Once back at anchor (and out of the poluted harbor) I can slip into the water as often as I like to stave off the heat. My only worry right now is how to arrange a reading pillow on my new water cooled airmattress. Kat
I finally finished our sunshade which other cruisers had told us would be essential for surviving a summer in the Sea. I started working on the sunshade way back in January while in La Cruz. The idea behind the sunshade is to have a awning of sorts over the whole boat to keep the beating sun from raising inside temperatures to intolerable levels.
You would think it would be simple. Maybe a big rectangle suspended from the rigging and your good to go. Except for two important problems. 1. we have four solar panels that can't be covered and 2. that rigging.
The rigging of a sailboat is a complicated thing. We have an eight shroud, two spreader rig with a back stay, the forstay and a stays'l stay. In addition we have a boom brake that attaches port to starboard midship and a set of moveable running rigging for heavy downwind passages. Then of course there are the three sheets and four halyards (sailors' names for all those lines.) Plus of course the mast itself and the boom all of which are in the way of anything one tries to suspend "above" the deck.
As for the four solar panels: with them we generate enough electricity to stay at anchor unplugged from civilization essentally indefinitly. With them covered we would be forced to run our engine daily to run the ship. Running the engine means heat and that is a kill joy.
In the end it required aproximatly 45 yards of hem, 50+ grommets, 25 bungy cords, a handful of snaps and 8 hemmed slits for rigging, sheets and stays to produce four seperate 6'x12' panels aloft and one 5'x5' foot panel that snaps off and on to provide side shade as the sun clocks around us. I already can feel a difference but I suspect in the end we will find out that either we love it and use it faithfully or it simply becomes too much of a bother. Did I mention that we will have to take it down every night or risk having it torn to smithereens in one of the Seas frequent night Coromuels or Elefantes -sudden night winds that blow in the Sea in the summer?
Bill was busy installing both our repalcement power inverter -so I can run my sewing machine at anchor and the new radar. The radar turned into a bit f a fiasco unfoartunatly. The chart ploter we purchased before we left Seattle was purchased partly because it was supposed to support running several different electronics all at the same time onthe same viewing screen. It already was wired with: chart plotter, GPS, VHF, Loud Hailer, AIS and Depth. The radar should have been a simple install and add on. Unfortunatly Standard Horizon doesn't supply enough ports to run a radar too. Eventually Bill wound one of his miracles by installing a set of switches in the cockpit so we can toggle from one application to the next without needing to go below to flip a switch. That going below by-the-way would have primarily been Kats job. Up, down, up, down -a one more trip and I will scream kind of job.
Yesterday was our first truly hot day -even with the new shade in place. I am not going to try complaining to all of you. It is just the way it is here. We came looking for Christmas in shorts and flipflops, tropical beaches and warm blue waters. Those things don't come without an off season. When it comes to the tropics the off season always brings either blasting heat or drenching rains from storms. Oh, and hurricanes or typhoons.
Today there is the first murmer of a "depression" off to the south. Not a hurricane, not even a tropical depression. Nothing for us to worry about, no need to run or prepare but it is the season and we check every day. When woke up I looked at our cabin thermometer, just to check because last night had felt hotter than any other so far. Sure enough the cabin was 90 degrees at 8:00am. By 3:00pm with every port, hatch and companionway wide open it was 99!
We worked a few hours in the morning and the afternoon was left to relax and do nothing. While doing the laundry I slipped into my swimsuit before hitting the marina laundry mat. Wash in, a dip in the pool. Move the laundry and another dip in the pool before doing the fold and fluff. This morning its a flurry of getting ready. A quick trip to the bank, sunshade down and stored, hatchboards away, everything stored and a quick check out with the marina. Swimming and hopefully a cooling breeze. I cant wait. Once back at anchor (and out of the poluted harbor) I can slip into the water as often as I like to stave off the heat. My only worry right now is how to arrange a reading pillow on my new water cooled airmattress. Kat
Friday, May 27, 2011
5/26 Alone in Guaymas
Tonight I am aboard alone in Guaymas with Bill back in Seattle handling some business. It was an unexpected trip but was worth the time and trouble. We had sailed from Playa Santispac to Bahia Santa Domingo because we had heard that it was possible to pick up cell coverage there. When we arrived in the early afternoon Bill opened his mail and found out there was a bit of a snafu back home that couldn't be handled from Mexico. The coverage was patchy and so unable to do mcuh to handle the problem we set sail across the Sea to Guaymas. Back in the land of the internet we set out to try and arrange a trip home.
it was going to take a ten hour bus ride from Guaymas to the US, one night in Phoenix and an early flight to Seattle all for a rather exhorbinant price. I would have loved to get home for even a short visit but the money we could save if I stayed will be enough for both of us to take a trip back in August or September when the heat really settles down on the Sea. So, I loaded him down with snacks for the trip, kissed him goodbye and walked the two or three miles back to the boat in the 90degree heat.
While Bill bounced along on the road I finished cleaning the decks, scrubbed things out below and did three loads of laundry. Eventually I wore myself out and settled back with some leftover tortillas and cold chicken to watch three episodes of Breaking Bad (a USA TV series) before crawling into bed. I was beat tired but right across from the marina they were busy getting ready for a visit by the President that is scheduled for June 1st. The town is crawling with military while they ready the town for the visit and they have been banging away setting up a huge pavillion that is now filling up with booths,beer gardens and stages. For some reason for two nights running a military brass band has been practicing a stones throw from my bed. They don't even start to play until after 8 and last night they were still bugling away at 11:00.
This morning I set out with Grover on Koloa Kai for a tour of Guaymas and the nearby town of San Carlos. Grover is a long time friend of "Far Country" and when Valasta and Gordo heard we were sailing this way they told me to look him up. He not only gave me a tour of both Guaymas ans San Carlos but also filled me in on the bus system so I get around on my own. We visited with some friends of his in San Carlos, had a great lunch at JJ's taco stand and even located the local AA hall. Tomorrow I will set off on my own to see the town and hopefully get a peek in the Presidential party tent. Now though it's hot out. Really hot. I left a cup of tea in the cockpit and when I came home four hours later it was still drinkably warm! Right now the marina pool is calling my name so hasta` luego. Kat
5/22 50th Birthday
22nd Mulege` Yesterday was my fiftieth birthday, the second I have celebrated since becoming a full time cruiser. It seems impossible that it was only a year ago that I was celebrating in the rain and the cold of Prince Rupert BC. Still miles from Alaska we were stuck there desperately trying to fix the broken heater that threatened to end our Alaskan trip before it had even started. Prince Rupert was cold and wet, I was cold and wet and my gift from Bill was a pair of fancy flowered rubber boots that I begged for. Well, it’s a whole new world this year. For 2011 I spent my morning in my swimsuit paddling alone in my kayak around the anchorage in Playa Santispac with four!!! whale sharks. The previous day Bill and I were able to get in the water with them and then follow them around in our dinghy snapping pictures and watching their odd behavior. You may have picked up on the fact that seeing the whale sharks was high on my list of “hope it happens” in the Sea. I guess I thought it was a given that we would find them, eventually. Then I began hearing stories of cruisers who have spent years in the Sea and never happened upon them. It was an amazing experience and we were very lucky to have stumbled on them. I guess I assumed that it was a once in a lifetime chance. So I was stunned to see them again early the next morning. Bill was busy below with his Spanish lesson and I had been sitting in the cockpit drinking my tea and there they were, four whale sharks feeding quietly in the calm anchorage. There were four of them for goodness sake! I sat watching them, was going to just sit and observe but then thought what the heck I just couldn’t pass the chance by. In less than five minutes I had changed into my swimsuit, launched the kayak, grabbed a paddle and my camera and slid into the water. It was a very different experience than the previous day. Part of it was having a lower adrenalin level. Well a little at least - I had been so hyped and excited the previous day. Today the anchorage was quiet and calm. No boats buzzing around and no paddle boarders. My vantage point from the kayak –so close to the water- got me incredibly close to the fish as they fed. Very calmly and quietly I paddled into their midst and then just let myself float freely along . These great creatures are a marvel to watch. Their dark brown bodies are a dark brown with golden spots all over with faint stripes running vertically along their length. These four ranged in length from fifteen to over twenty feet and I can long only guess that they weigh over a 1000 pounds. Their silhouette looks roughly like a huge pollywog. They are very thick top to bottom, have a long sweeping tail and sport a large dorsal fin and a huge vertical tail fin shaped like the tail of an airplane. I am sure that their sheer size and the distinct shark shaped tail are what gave them their name. They are fish not mammals and they swim along the surface with dorsal and tail protruding as they “S” along through the water ala` “Jaws.” They have huge flat heads with great gills running along both sides about four feet back and they have the biggest mouth I think I have ever seen. They look scary but are incredibly docile creatures who spend their days swimming along the surface, huge mouths agape scooping up the thousands of gallons of water that they need to filter out the tiny bits of sea life that sustain them. From right on the surface of the water I could have simply reached and touched them. In spite of their size when they are not on the surface they move through the water barely causing a ripple. Trust me when I say that when one suddenly appears underneath you, gliding silently by with a swish of their tails it is a bit unnerving. They frequently came so close that I thought they were going to run into me only to veer off at the last moment. Three times I could feel the tip of a giant tail running the length of the bottom of my kayak. The first time we contacted I was sure it was going to upset a sleeping giant and that he would give a mighty swish and topple me into the bay but instead he made a tiny flinch and then sailed on past. What a way to start my birthday. Later we went in to Mulege` with Jerry and our friends from Sirena Connie and Ed. We met Jerry the night before at dinner, a local expat who moved here 11 years ago. His daughter Kelly was visiting him from California and he offered to take us into Mulege` to see the sights and to do some grocery shopping. What a treat. Jerry is one of the truly friendly in this world. He acted as tour guide and gave us a running history as we drove into town. He waited patiently as we did our tourist duty of walking all over town, ducking into stores and buying ice cream –it was my birthday after all. Then shared his local knowledge and took us to four stores so we could provision with the most choices and best prices in town. When we were all spent out and beginning to suffer from the mid day heat we drove to his favorite spot for lunch and a cool drink before finally dropping us on the sandy beach right next to our dinghies! Once we had unloaded about 15 bags of goodies from his SUV we all waved and he was off to meet friends for cocktail hour. Later that evening we went ashore to Anna’s with the crew from Sirena to celebrate my birthday dinner. Jerry had turned us onto Anna’s the designated gringo hangout for everyone south of town. The locals meet every Saturday night from roughly November till June and this was to be the last big hoorah of the season and the place to be to celebrate my birthday. Before our seats were warm we had invited another couple, Lynn and Clint from Taya to join us and then Jerry and his lovely daughter Kelly arrived. The music started up before we ordered and by the time chips and salsa were due the disco ball was spinning. Bill and I love to dance: swing, waltz, Lindy, salsa…disco not so much but who wouldn’t love to dance the night away in a Mexican cantina named Anna’s, owned and run by a woman named Lupe that plays primarily country music under the sparkle of a disco ball? All that and all the groceries I could fit into a dinghy!! Great day. Kat
Thursday, May 26, 2011
5/20 Whale sharks at Playa Santispac
We arrived at Playa Santispac in Bahia Concepcion yesterday after a 10hour rodeo ride. It started out calm as could be and we had our sails up in a light wind as we left San Juanico at 6am. The mild NW beam reach winds quickly turned into a northern and built throughout the day with winds reaching about 18kns. The winds were not the problem though. Once the northern settled onto our nose it was the steep short chop that made for a rough ride. Ten hours later we arrived worn out and bit jumbled but fared better than our friends on both Persistence and Serina. Persistence packed it in after about three hours and headed back to San Juanico and Serina (who got an extra hour of sleep but quickly left us in her dust) blew out the clew of their high tech jib. The day ended nicely with Ed and Connie from Serena helping us finish off the rest of the Chocolate clams from San Juanico. Oh and on our way in to Bahia Concepcion I picked up a VHF transmission saying that the whale sharks were in Playa Santispac. So while Bill hit the sheets by 8:15 I stayed up and got our underwater camera ready to go in case they returned. As my head hit the pillow I was thinking about the morning (snorkel gear, camera, charged battery, check!) and hoping they would reappear.
I rolled out of bed, turned on the tea pot and fled to the cockpit with my yogurt and the binoculars hoping I would be lucky. I had no more than taken a bite of yogurt when I saw a big tail cruise between us and Serena. No wonder they call them whale sharks. They are the size of whales but feed on the surface so their tail and dorsal fin cuts through the water like a shark. They have that familiar swishing movement of a shark too. Whispering at Bill as loudly as I could I nearly fell down the companionway in my excitement. As Bill scrambled on deck I was already grabbing flippers and masks and looking for my suit. It took us no time to get the dinghy down and the gear loaded and off we went in pursuit.
There is some controversy about swimming with the whale sharks. Some people feel that we shouldn’t bother them at all. If they swim by great, get a few photos and consider yourself lucky but don’t pursue them or get in the water with them. The other school of thought is that since the creatures seem to have no concern what so ever when humans are in the water or next to them in boats means its not harming them at all. I simply couldn’t pass the experience by. Since they are actually fish not whales their bodies are covered with a slippery slimy coating that acts as a protective barrier. Touching them can compromise that barrier so hands off. With my wet suit on and still trying to tuck my feet into my swim fins we motored the dinghy towards one of the two we were watching. In a moment I was pulling on my mask, slipping the camera over my head and sliding into the water with my heart pounding.
As I bobbed at the surface adjusting my gear and turning on my camera my mind began to run its own line of reasoning. I swam forward, then slowed down, then stopped. The water was very murky and I hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. Just how big is he? Will I see him coming or is the murk to thick? If one comes right towards me will I see him before he is on top of me? With adrenalin pumping, fear creeping in, body on alert and conversation with myself still rumbling in my head I moved forward -a little. How often do I get to be in the water next to a creature that is 15feet long? Should I put my head in the water and swim towards him? Or should I keep my head above water and try to keep my eyes on him? Then finally a deep breath through my snorkel I pushed through the adrenalin and slipped below the surface.
I thought he was in front of me moving towards shore but suddenly to my right out of the dark green he swims passed me only a few feet away. *&^%, by the time I had my camera raised all I could see was the last bit of spotted body and the great big tail. By this time Bill was in the water too and for the next fifteen minutes we swam around in circles trying to get close enough to them to photograph. The reason the whale sharks are here is because the water here is full of good stuff for them to eat. Unfortunately that means the clarity of the water is poor which doesn’t make for good underwater photography. I had one more decent pass by and clicked off a couple of pictures but we could tell the other people now around us were getting much better pictures from their dinghies than we were managing from the water so we climbed out and headed off to try and get some better shots.
The next thirty minutes was amazing. From the dinghy we had a much better view. We could see the shadow of their body even when they swam deep which made them easy to track and the amount of time they spent on the surface made it easy to get lots of good pictures. They seem to do most of their feeding on the surface with their huge heads half out of the water. They have the biggest mouth I have ever seen. They swim along the surface mouth agape scooping the huge amounts of water they need to filter out the tiny krill and plankton they need to survive. They truly don’t seem to be bothered at all by the human contact. Everyone was being thoughtful and careful around them and every outboard was carefully kicked down to neutral whenever the creatures came close. Over and over they surfaced right next to paddle boards and boats full of gawking cruisers. They stayed on the surface for amazingly long amounts of time swishing the water in and siphoning out their breakfast. No fear and no worry that we could see. One of them though must have tangled with a propeller or two in the past because his dorsal fin looked like it had been sliced into big thick strips. With that kind of injury you would think they would choose to stay away from humans but apparently not. Maybe much like Florida’s manatees their docile nature doesn’t serve them as well as it did eons ago when they began swimming the Sea. Happily for me though they simply keep on swimming and scooping. It was a heck of a way to start my day. Kat
5/18 In search of Mexico's famous Chocolate` clam.
In the nine days we stayed at San Juanico we had several opportunities to try our hand at capturing the great Chocolate` clam. I will add a disclaimer before we upset anyone. In spite of the widely held belief that gringos are not allowed to harvest any clams or shellfish numerous cruisers had talked about the chocolate` clams in isolated anchorages that “just jump into their dinghies.” So it was a rule often broken and rarely if ever enforced but we were not comfortable with breaking any laws or the possible penalties for doing so in a foreign country. Then while at Loreto fest we talked with a Fish and Wildlife official who said that wasn’t and was never true. If you have a current fishing license it is OK to take clams, crabs, lobster etc “in amounts for personal consumption only.” He also debunked the myth about fishing licenses themselves. That being –and pushed vigorously by the agencies in San Diego that sell Mexican licenses- that “if there is even one hook on your boat it is necessary to have a license for everyone on board your boat.” And that further “the penalty of breaking this rule carrying punishment up to and including a heavy fines and the confiscation of your boat! He assured us that as long as people who are actively fishing are properly licensed those who have no interest do not need to purchase one. And he even gave us the website and a contact email for a person who could verify that.
So, being told that there were Chocolate` clams at San Juanico and getting some helpful hints from Peggy on “Interlude” we set out to try our luck. Armed with snorkel gear, game bag and dive gloves to protect our hands we set off. We dove and dug and dove and dug but after nearly an hour I had come up with zilch and Bill had a measly five. Not enough for a meal that’s for sure. We obviously needed a bit more information from Peggy!
The next morning armed with a few more helpful hints we set off with Leonard and Wilma of Midnight Sun to a nearby shallow sandy bottomed beach. The signs we were looking for would be two holes side by side about an inch or inch and a half apart. They should be in 8 to 20 feet of water and they were reported to dig deeper if you swam over them with the sun to your back, the shadow apparently alerting them to the presence of predators. Leonard and Wilma came equipped with snorkel gear, a game bag attached to a life preserver to keep it afloat and their abalone bars –a metal pry bar with a handle and a wrist tether. Bill went for the bare handed method but carried our game bag and I brought along my trusty garden trowel tied to my wrist with a length of cotton rope.
We split apart and in no time all you could see were splashes and flippers and bums in the air. I found my first clam on my second dive and stuffed it into the top of my wet suit. The extra information was already paying off. It was easy when you were looking for the right signs. We knocked em dead for the next half hour. I “captured” roughly 2 ½ dozen and Bill at least that many. Our game bag was so heavy with clams that when I swam back to bill to drop off my haul with him I could barely stay afloat while holding the bag. Wilma and Leonard were just as successful and in no time we were back to our boats with a six pm date for dinner and a game of Farkle aboard their boat.
The feast was delicious and because I am nice I will give you a great recipe that will work for any clams you might happen to have jump in your boat. Chocolate` clams are the shape of our butter clams back home and about the size of the palm of your hand. They have a chocolate brown shell and the meat inside is roughly twice the size of a butter clam. We have been told they are great just cooked on the BBQ but we decided to try something a bit more gourmet.
Clams San Juanico
2 doz. Chocolate` clams (shells of 1 doz. Reserved)
2-3 T mayonnaise
2 cloves garlic minced (I used more like 4)
Salt and pepper to taste
¼ cup (give or take) of freshly grated parmesan cheese
Toasted bread crumbs ( I toasted them on the top of the stove in some EVOO and fresh garlic)
Hang the clams for a few hours so they rid themselves of any sand. To open them I put them in the fridge until they began to open on their own then with a heavy glove to protect my hands I pried them open with a knife. (Only take out two or three at a time because by the time you get the third clam open the fourth will have shut back tight again.) Remove the main stomach part and discard and chop the rest of the meat into a mince. Add the mayo and garlic. Salt and pepper to taste then fold in the parmesan cheese. Refill cleaned shells and top with a tsp of bread crumbs then cook for just a few minutes on the BBQ or bake at 350 for about ten minutes.
The captain of Midnight Sun produced a delicious red sauce – I am lazy and would use Prego spaghetti sauce- then mixed in the steamed minced clam meat like you would add ground beef. Top with parmesan cheese and serve with fresh bread baked in your sun oven!
The second night I steamed the remainder of the clams for a minute or two to make it easy to remove the meat and added it to a simple pasta.
3 cloves of garlic minced
5 cloves of roasted garlic
Salt and pepper to taste
1 ½ of chopped clam meat
Grated parmesan
½ a box of Mexican La La brand “media crema”
Cook garlic in EVOO till soft but not browned in large pot. Add chopped roasted garlic and season to taste. Remove from heat and add chopped clam meat.
Prepare pasta as directed reserving a cup or so of the pasta water when through. Add drained pasta to pan of clams and stir. Add parmesan and check seasoning. Pour 1/3 to ½ small box of La La crema media and stir. Add pasta water as needed to desired consistence. Serve with three or four of the baked clams San Juanico arranged on top of each plate.
*La La brand media crema is a Mexican product that comes in small boxes and can be stored on your shelf indefinitely. It makes a great instant cream sauce. It is roughly like half and half and is also delicious used like heavy cream over fruit or baked deserts if you add a bit of vanilla and chill.
Bon appetite! Kat
So, being told that there were Chocolate` clams at San Juanico and getting some helpful hints from Peggy on “Interlude” we set out to try our luck. Armed with snorkel gear, game bag and dive gloves to protect our hands we set off. We dove and dug and dove and dug but after nearly an hour I had come up with zilch and Bill had a measly five. Not enough for a meal that’s for sure. We obviously needed a bit more information from Peggy!
The next morning armed with a few more helpful hints we set off with Leonard and Wilma of Midnight Sun to a nearby shallow sandy bottomed beach. The signs we were looking for would be two holes side by side about an inch or inch and a half apart. They should be in 8 to 20 feet of water and they were reported to dig deeper if you swam over them with the sun to your back, the shadow apparently alerting them to the presence of predators. Leonard and Wilma came equipped with snorkel gear, a game bag attached to a life preserver to keep it afloat and their abalone bars –a metal pry bar with a handle and a wrist tether. Bill went for the bare handed method but carried our game bag and I brought along my trusty garden trowel tied to my wrist with a length of cotton rope.
We split apart and in no time all you could see were splashes and flippers and bums in the air. I found my first clam on my second dive and stuffed it into the top of my wet suit. The extra information was already paying off. It was easy when you were looking for the right signs. We knocked em dead for the next half hour. I “captured” roughly 2 ½ dozen and Bill at least that many. Our game bag was so heavy with clams that when I swam back to bill to drop off my haul with him I could barely stay afloat while holding the bag. Wilma and Leonard were just as successful and in no time we were back to our boats with a six pm date for dinner and a game of Farkle aboard their boat.
The feast was delicious and because I am nice I will give you a great recipe that will work for any clams you might happen to have jump in your boat. Chocolate` clams are the shape of our butter clams back home and about the size of the palm of your hand. They have a chocolate brown shell and the meat inside is roughly twice the size of a butter clam. We have been told they are great just cooked on the BBQ but we decided to try something a bit more gourmet.
Clams San Juanico
2 doz. Chocolate` clams (shells of 1 doz. Reserved)
2-3 T mayonnaise
2 cloves garlic minced (I used more like 4)
Salt and pepper to taste
¼ cup (give or take) of freshly grated parmesan cheese
Toasted bread crumbs ( I toasted them on the top of the stove in some EVOO and fresh garlic)
Hang the clams for a few hours so they rid themselves of any sand. To open them I put them in the fridge until they began to open on their own then with a heavy glove to protect my hands I pried them open with a knife. (Only take out two or three at a time because by the time you get the third clam open the fourth will have shut back tight again.) Remove the main stomach part and discard and chop the rest of the meat into a mince. Add the mayo and garlic. Salt and pepper to taste then fold in the parmesan cheese. Refill cleaned shells and top with a tsp of bread crumbs then cook for just a few minutes on the BBQ or bake at 350 for about ten minutes.
The captain of Midnight Sun produced a delicious red sauce – I am lazy and would use Prego spaghetti sauce- then mixed in the steamed minced clam meat like you would add ground beef. Top with parmesan cheese and serve with fresh bread baked in your sun oven!
The second night I steamed the remainder of the clams for a minute or two to make it easy to remove the meat and added it to a simple pasta.
3 cloves of garlic minced
5 cloves of roasted garlic
Salt and pepper to taste
1 ½ of chopped clam meat
Grated parmesan
½ a box of Mexican La La brand “media crema”
Cook garlic in EVOO till soft but not browned in large pot. Add chopped roasted garlic and season to taste. Remove from heat and add chopped clam meat.
Prepare pasta as directed reserving a cup or so of the pasta water when through. Add drained pasta to pan of clams and stir. Add parmesan and check seasoning. Pour 1/3 to ½ small box of La La crema media and stir. Add pasta water as needed to desired consistence. Serve with three or four of the baked clams San Juanico arranged on top of each plate.
*La La brand media crema is a Mexican product that comes in small boxes and can be stored on your shelf indefinitely. It makes a great instant cream sauce. It is roughly like half and half and is also delicious used like heavy cream over fruit or baked deserts if you add a bit of vanilla and chill.
Bon appetite! Kat
5/14 Apache Tears and the Cruisers Shrine at San Juanico
We have spent the last five nights –or is it six? What day is it again? - at San Juanico. It’s a great anchorage, beautiful, safe in most winds, room for plenty of boats and the weather has been perfect. Who could ask for more? We have had beach gatherings, Bocce Ball games, potluck dinners and evening games of Farkle. Saturday night was the last night for several of the boats in the anchorage so we gathered for one last potluck and good bye for the season. The gals decided to turn it into an early celebration of my 50th birthday. They amazed me with some wonderful impromptu gifts, a candle to blow out and chocolates to cap off the meal. The gifts were all tailor made for a cruising woman of “a certain age.” Among the gifts were several that were made to order: a fan to ward off hot flashes, face cream with high SPF to protect my skin, the coveted Mexican brand of high octane insect repellant and its sister product the anti-itch cream. Loving and practical!
This morning we went out fishing again and quickly caught enough for a couple of meals but also spent some extra passes trying to hook one that got away. We were trolling when an eight to ten inch reef fish hit Bills spoon and came flying out of the water. As Bill began to reel him in a huge grouper came up from the depths and swallowed the fish that Bill had on. Unfortunately the light leader he had on was not up to the job and the big guy dropped back into the rocks and quickly snapped the line. I could tell you an “it was this big” story about just how huge he was but since we didn’t actually get him to the boat its purely a fish tale except of course we know he was big enough to make dinner out of the other fish. Darn thing took off with one of our best spoons. Oh well there is always tomorrow.
Shortly after we arrived we went ashore on a quest. First we wanted to be sure to see the Cruiser’s Shrine here in San Juanico. The shrine has been here for years as a way for cruisers to leave their mark on the Sea. A small grove of trees near the northern end of the cove is home to a hodgepodge of signs and offerings. Everything from hand lettered signs, old flip flops, bottles with boat cards inside and even an old pair of cargo shorts inscribed with poetry. Most bear boat names, captain and crew and a date. We paid homage and took lots of pictures but didn’t leave anything to mark our presence. Eventually it got under my skin and I decided it just wouldn’t be right to pass up the opportunity. So this afternoon out came the sign board -a plastic bin lid- some thin nylon rope, a pile of beads, the glue and a magic marker. In no time at all Island Bounds passage through Baja waters was ready to be left for posterity.
We took a hike across a small hillside to the anchorage at La Ramada. It felt good to get out and hike a bit and La Ramada anchorage was perfect for a quick dip to cool us down from the hike. But what I was really interested in was searching for Apache Tears along the dry creek beds and dusty road on the hill. Apache Tears are the smooth glossy stones made of natural volcanic glass that resulted from rapidly cooled lava flows in this part of Baja. The legend of Apache Tears began in the 1870’s when the U.S. cavalry fought against the Arizona Apache. The defeated Apache warriors refused to accept capture so chose to leap to their death from the face of a cliff. The families of the lost warriors wept for their loss and each tear shed turned to stone as they hit the earth. The legend promises that because the warriors’ families wept their sorrows into the hills anyone who caries an Apache Tear will never have to weep again.
The stones themselves range from pea size to golf ball sized and though they can be translucent brown the best examples are a shiny jet black. I didn’t really hold out much hope in finding any since this place is so well known but the hunt intrigued me and really pulled me in. I kept my eyes to the ground and before I knew it there it was. With a quick brush to remove the dust there in the palm of my hand was the lovely shine of a small jet black stone. Bill had not seemed all that interested but began looking too and as soon as he found one he was just as hooked. It seemed odd but once we would find one often there would be a handful more. Once we really knew what to look for they seemed to litter the ground. The search was addictive and we could have filled our pockets but instead I kept a handful of the shiniest for jewelry making and a few for gifts and left the rest where they lay in the dry Baja dust. Kat
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
5/10 11 Slowing down the pace in Baja
Loreto Fest was a blast. During the Festivals run the Singular Marina at Puerto Escondido was alive with people and activity. But we quickly learned that Puerto Escondido looks completely different the entire rest of the year. After the Festival this lovely marina averages only a handful of boats per day. All the Singular marinas in Mexico are part of FONOTUR, the government’s highly successful foray into turning all of Mexico in to a tourist destination. The facilities boast pretty much everything one could hope for. Here they have a small dock, a fuel dock with potable water, clean bathrooms with free showers (hot water available 10:00am to 6:00pm!) 100+ mooring buoys, a shore boat service, a restaurant and small store, a pool and hot tub, cruisers lounge, a friendly yacht club with an extensive book and DVD exchange, a full service boat yard with a 50 ton lift and laundry facilities. A short but hot mile walk away is Tapui where there is a hotel with a restaurant and a small 7-11 type store. That’s it, there is nothing else for miles. The seaside town of Loreto is only 14 miles away but the $80 cab ride leaves the marina isolated and empty for most of the year. It looks like they had big plans though. Around the marina there are miles of concrete roads and sidewalks, a guard house, landscaped palm trees and block after block of dry scrub, turkey vultures and free range cows, nothing more. Hopefully the rebounding economy will bring some growth again and all the plans and dreams will materialize. In the mean time it’s a great place to throw a party!
You may wonder why I bothered to write about the clean showers. Well the year we got our boat we spent three weeks in the San Juan Islands. I was excited about our first long trip and also was looking ahead to our full time cruising years. I was definitely in a learning mode so every time we talked with other boaters I would ask lots of questions. In a cove near Hope Island I spoke to a couple on a sailboat who were headed home from a month out and asked them a simple question: what’s been the highlight of your trip this year? The answer I got back caught me off guard. “Definitely Dear Island. They have the best showers in the San Juans!” They went on actually gushing a bit and explained that they were clean, the hot water was quick and plentiful and they were free. I had expected to hear about a perfect anchorage or a secret crabbing spot somewhere but I tucked the info away anyway. It didn’t take me long to understand the value they placed on their answer. Finding simple things like a place to take a long hot shower definitely falls into the luxury category for most cruisers. In fact I am still learning the importance of many things that fall into that category: potable water at a dock, good clean bathrooms, laundry facilities where you don’t have to stand in water up to your ankles while you fluff and fold (or better yet here in Mexico I love paying less to have someone else do my laundry for roughly the price I used to pay to stand in a laundry mat and do the chore myself,) a reasonably priced grocery store that isn’t a taxi ride away and quiet anchorages where your neighbors turn off their music before midnight.
We took two trips into Loreto with vans full of cruisers for sightseeing and provisioning and it was worth the price. Loreto is a beautiful seaside town with just about everything you could need. The original Baja mission was established there in 1697 and became the first of 24 missions built in Baja California. In spite of being in total ruins several times over the years it stands proudly now more than 300 years later as a center of the towns’ community. They also have a beautiful town square surrounded by stands of huge mango trees. In fact there are mango trees all over the city. The fruit wasn’t ripe yet but my mouth watered at the thought of the thousands of juicy mangos that will be falling in a month or so.
Once we left the artificial hustle and bustle of Puerto Escondido it was like stepping off into another world. After a short hop to Isla Coronados, we set our anchor and settled in to watch the days roll by. For the first time in a year we have nowhere to go and no deadlines to meet. No one flying in and no long list of things to finish so we can be off to somewhere else. Instead we’ve begun our six month slow down. We broke out the kayaks, grabbed the pool noodle and blew up the floatie toy. The days are warm, the nights are cool and the biggest worry is weather the next anchorage will have bee’s , Bo Bo’s or No See Ums. We have time for a morning kayak around the anchorage with a girl friend or to power through an entire paper back in a day. It has been a great way to ease into the leisure life in Baja.
Being at anchor for days at a time far away from any town opens the days up like nothing else. We of course have projects we could work on but neither one of us seems in any hurry to break out any big projects. At Isla Coronados we had a potluck get together one night and then I went kayaking the next morning with the gals from “Oya”, “Far Country” and “Interlude.” We just paddled around aimlessly, not really going anywhere and talking about our cruising lives and soaking in the luxury of just relaxing. We were just about to call it a day when I saw a pod of dolphins off in the distance. They had been feeding in our big cove off and on all morning and I just couldn’t help myself. I had to try and see how close I could get to them. The harder I paddled the farther off they seemed. Finally I decided to give up and head back towards the boats. I turned again to watch them and saw them change course and head my way. Instead of pursuing I just stopped paddling and just floated along in the water. I sat still and quiet and in a matter of a minute or two they were all around me. Sitting just inches off the water they poured like silver around me. The waters were clear as glass and it felt like I could reach out and touch them as they surged by. I was so close I could hear every breath they took and feel the pulse of the water with their tail slaps as they pushed past. Moments later they were gone and I was alone again sitting in swirling water, their sounds falling off into the breeze.
The next morning we moved just a short sail away to Puerto Ballandra. We had a nice visit with our friends on Ponderosa from Seattle and then spent the next two days sleeping in and fishing. While underway we almost always drag a couple of lines hoping for game fish but this is a different kind of fishing all together. In fact in the entire year we have been gone this is only the second time we have set off in the dinghy to fish. It was already hot but we loaded up the dinghy with everything we would need and headed for the rocky point at the entrance to the cove. There was no finesse really in what we were doing just experimenting and trying different things but in no time we had three nice rock cod (I caught all three thank you very much.) fish tacos for dinner! The next day we loaded up with sunscreen and set out again. We left Island Bound with our trolling gear out and within minutes I caught a very weird looking fish. It was shaped like an eel but with fins and was about two feet long with very big sharp teeth. Maybe he would have been fine eating but he was just too nasty looking to serve for dinner so off he went back into the blue. We trolled the point for an hour or so and in the end we had three fish (all of which I caught -not that I would rub that in at all of course.) We had to consult our fish books to learn one was a rock cod, one was a small barracuda and the last was a rather exotic looking reef fish with a fan like tail and two colorful stripes. They all found their way to the BBQ for more fish tacos with enough leftovers for coconut fish curry with brown rice.
The next morning Bill decided he was bored and so we raised the anchor and set off for Caleta San Juanico. We learned after arriving that Puerto Ballandra is known as Puerto Beelandra. So between the bees, the horse flies and Bo Bo’s during the day and the swarms of No See Ums at dusk it was time to look for a new anchorage. Plus Bill was ready to try out some of the fishing techniques were learned at Loreto Fest. We tried all the tricks but in spite of high hopes, a fancy cedar plug lure, a green and orange squid, a fluffy, sparkly pink feather and a teaser bottle (a pop bottle full of beads and tin foil pieces you drag close along behind you) we were royally skunked. Oh well, there is always the next passage.
Other than the fishing which does takes some work these last days have been very easy and lo key. We slept in, read, swam, baked my first ever sourdough bread and took the time to listen on the Ham. The Sonrisa net comes each morning with weather and news and then in the evening we tune to the Amigo net for the evenings updates. Both Bill and I become Ham operators before we left Seattle but then in because the internet it more familiar we didn’t touch our SSB radio for most of year. Once we are proficient the Ham will let us stay in touch no matter where we are and will be crucial in our ability to monitor weather in the isolation of the Sea. Next spring when we cross the Pacific – roughly 25 days and probably our longest ever passage-the Ham will again be one of our most important tools. Bill has already learned how to get our weather via GRIB and we are starting to use our sailmail email account but it will take me some time to be comfortable. The ICOM 802 has all sorts of buttons and functions to learn and there are rules to remember and lingo to practice. For me the hardest part is getting over a sort of vocal shyness that sets in when I key the mike. Suddenly miss chatty sounds tongue tied and mumbly but it’s our ticket to the outside world so it’s time for practice, practice, practice. “This is KE7MZh signing off. Kat
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Loreto Fest and the Big Blow
It’s early evening here in Puerto Escondido and I am listening quietly as the fleet continues to chatter on CH 22. Earlier the mood was light and relaxed while roughly 400 folks were ashore enjoying the last day of Loreto Fest. Most had come ashore in their tenders leaving scores of dinghies tied to a couple of small dinghy docks and nearly every boat empty of captain and crew when high winds began rolling through the anchorage. As the winds grew the afternoon quickly disintegrated into chaos but now thankfully the emergencies are passed and everyone is back safely aboard their boats.
This year was the 15th annual Loreto Fest, which by the way is held in Puerto Escondido not Loreto and the weather had been perfect for the first two days. This year’s event drew well close to 200 boats, spanned three days and included numerous seminars with titles like “Diving Baja,” “How to Catch Baja’s Bottom fish” and “Jewelry Making.” There were extremely serious competitions in Bocce Ball, horse shoes, dominoes and Baja rummy. In between the seminars and cut throat competition they sold hot dogs and hamburgers, held a spaghetti feed and a pancake breakfast, poured icy cold kegs of beer and gallons of margaritas and Bloody Mary and held a silent auction and raffle all to raise funds for a local school and a handful of other charities.
It had been gusty and the weather reports had called for winds in the low 20’s by afternoon but no one seemed overly worried. The main venue had a clear view out into the bay and over the 100+ moorings scattered across the main anchorage. When the wind began to blow slowly we all began to take notice. The tents set up for the event began to flog and rumble. One tipped over and was caught as it began to skitter away like tumbleweed. The shade tarps began to whip and bang and folks started looking out towards the anchorages. We moved in little groups to the harbor wall and looked off into rising winds. All the boats were swinging and bucking but holding tight. Soon an announcement was made: a boat was dragging. More of us moved to the sea wall as the conversations began questioning when the winds might ease and how we might begin making it back to our boats.
There are only two dingy docks one right in front of the marina and one tucked off behind the marina office in the “Ellipse.” (My captain chose to take the long route and tie in the “Ellipse” around the corner and out of the days prevailing winds.) Per the dinghy dock rules we had all tied to the docks with extra long painters. The long painters allowed for a great many dinghies to be tied along a line run round the small docks edge. In normal situations we would just muscle our way through the pack of dinks, tie our painter to the rope and climb out on the dock. When we returned we would untie the painter and climb from boat to boat then muscle ourselves through to the open water. Now in the rising winds we watched as the main dinghy dock was quickly turning into a roiling heaving knot of rubber, rope and banging outboards. The mass was pushed around and behind the dock itself and was coming seriously close to a mega yacht tied in a slip. It became clear that getting off the dock was going to take a whole new technique this afternoon.
Under brilliant blue skies Bill and I watched the building winds, checked our dinghy tied round the corner and then moved back to the sea wall to discuss and watch some more. By this time everyone was beginning to crowd into groups of serious discussion and decision. I was hoping the winds would die as the afternoon slid by but I was also aware that if we waited too long in hopes of a lull we risked adding darkness to the problem. By this time getting off the dock at the front of the marina was simply impossible but thankfully our tender was safely tucked out of the brunt of the winds. After a handful of other boats safely made it out to their boats the Captain decided it was our turn to try.
With Bill at the tiller and me sitting forward on the floor of the dinghy to help keep the nose down the quite, private mooring a quarter mile out that we had been enjoying so much seemed to be a very long way away. The launch off the quieter dock was easy enough but as we turned the corner of the “Ellipse’s” breakwater we instantly plowed into the surf. I was glad I had put hats, sun glassed, cell phone and camera inside my day pack and tied the pack to the dink. Surprisingly, though the water here is 74 degrees and the sun was still high when we hit our first trough I was instantly soaked through and cold. I rode that ¼ mile with my left arm wound through the safety line and my eyes shut tight against the salt spray or sneaking peeks back at Bill to see how he was doing at the tiller.
We made it back to Island Bound wet and chilled but without any real problems. Bill checked the mooring lines and I did a quick tour to take down all our flags, put away the hose and haul in a sagging head sail sheet. Once everything was ship shape we settled down in the shade of our safe and dry cockpit to check the wind indicator and monitor the radio for problems. The wind gusts were hitting 40+ and sustained winds were about 30. In retrospect we realized we had never been off the boat in these kinds of winds. In every other instance we simply would never been off our boat in this kind of wind. At the first signs we would have either chosen to stay on the boat or returned as soon as any winds began to build. We also realized we now trust our own anchoring ability and our trusty Rocna anchor over any 6’x6’x6’ block of concrete. If it hadn’t been for the party we never would have left our boat with a forecast of high winds.
It was an unusual set of circumstances to find ourselves surrounded by competent boaters all basically trapped onshore. It was also an experience to see first hand the competence and community that came together to handle the problems that did appear. All hands came together to close down the festival and everyone quickly took responsibility for grabbing hold of the floating gas tank, the loose oar or the piece of runaway canvas for later return. People hooked up and communicated to take care of whatever was in front of them. We were fortunate to not have had a single boat go aground and no major injuries. Tomorrow mornings the forecast is for even higher winds and it feels sort of like a snow day. Movement is limited but communication is thick on the radio and happily I doubt there is a boater amongst us who doesn’t actually enjoy an excuse to spend the day doing pretty much nothing other than simply quietly being aboard their boat.
Kat
This year was the 15th annual Loreto Fest, which by the way is held in Puerto Escondido not Loreto and the weather had been perfect for the first two days. This year’s event drew well close to 200 boats, spanned three days and included numerous seminars with titles like “Diving Baja,” “How to Catch Baja’s Bottom fish” and “Jewelry Making.” There were extremely serious competitions in Bocce Ball, horse shoes, dominoes and Baja rummy. In between the seminars and cut throat competition they sold hot dogs and hamburgers, held a spaghetti feed and a pancake breakfast, poured icy cold kegs of beer and gallons of margaritas and Bloody Mary and held a silent auction and raffle all to raise funds for a local school and a handful of other charities.
It had been gusty and the weather reports had called for winds in the low 20’s by afternoon but no one seemed overly worried. The main venue had a clear view out into the bay and over the 100+ moorings scattered across the main anchorage. When the wind began to blow slowly we all began to take notice. The tents set up for the event began to flog and rumble. One tipped over and was caught as it began to skitter away like tumbleweed. The shade tarps began to whip and bang and folks started looking out towards the anchorages. We moved in little groups to the harbor wall and looked off into rising winds. All the boats were swinging and bucking but holding tight. Soon an announcement was made: a boat was dragging. More of us moved to the sea wall as the conversations began questioning when the winds might ease and how we might begin making it back to our boats.
There are only two dingy docks one right in front of the marina and one tucked off behind the marina office in the “Ellipse.” (My captain chose to take the long route and tie in the “Ellipse” around the corner and out of the days prevailing winds.) Per the dinghy dock rules we had all tied to the docks with extra long painters. The long painters allowed for a great many dinghies to be tied along a line run round the small docks edge. In normal situations we would just muscle our way through the pack of dinks, tie our painter to the rope and climb out on the dock. When we returned we would untie the painter and climb from boat to boat then muscle ourselves through to the open water. Now in the rising winds we watched as the main dinghy dock was quickly turning into a roiling heaving knot of rubber, rope and banging outboards. The mass was pushed around and behind the dock itself and was coming seriously close to a mega yacht tied in a slip. It became clear that getting off the dock was going to take a whole new technique this afternoon.
Under brilliant blue skies Bill and I watched the building winds, checked our dinghy tied round the corner and then moved back to the sea wall to discuss and watch some more. By this time everyone was beginning to crowd into groups of serious discussion and decision. I was hoping the winds would die as the afternoon slid by but I was also aware that if we waited too long in hopes of a lull we risked adding darkness to the problem. By this time getting off the dock at the front of the marina was simply impossible but thankfully our tender was safely tucked out of the brunt of the winds. After a handful of other boats safely made it out to their boats the Captain decided it was our turn to try.
With Bill at the tiller and me sitting forward on the floor of the dinghy to help keep the nose down the quite, private mooring a quarter mile out that we had been enjoying so much seemed to be a very long way away. The launch off the quieter dock was easy enough but as we turned the corner of the “Ellipse’s” breakwater we instantly plowed into the surf. I was glad I had put hats, sun glassed, cell phone and camera inside my day pack and tied the pack to the dink. Surprisingly, though the water here is 74 degrees and the sun was still high when we hit our first trough I was instantly soaked through and cold. I rode that ¼ mile with my left arm wound through the safety line and my eyes shut tight against the salt spray or sneaking peeks back at Bill to see how he was doing at the tiller.
We made it back to Island Bound wet and chilled but without any real problems. Bill checked the mooring lines and I did a quick tour to take down all our flags, put away the hose and haul in a sagging head sail sheet. Once everything was ship shape we settled down in the shade of our safe and dry cockpit to check the wind indicator and monitor the radio for problems. The wind gusts were hitting 40+ and sustained winds were about 30. In retrospect we realized we had never been off the boat in these kinds of winds. In every other instance we simply would never been off our boat in this kind of wind. At the first signs we would have either chosen to stay on the boat or returned as soon as any winds began to build. We also realized we now trust our own anchoring ability and our trusty Rocna anchor over any 6’x6’x6’ block of concrete. If it hadn’t been for the party we never would have left our boat with a forecast of high winds.
It was an unusual set of circumstances to find ourselves surrounded by competent boaters all basically trapped onshore. It was also an experience to see first hand the competence and community that came together to handle the problems that did appear. All hands came together to close down the festival and everyone quickly took responsibility for grabbing hold of the floating gas tank, the loose oar or the piece of runaway canvas for later return. People hooked up and communicated to take care of whatever was in front of them. We were fortunate to not have had a single boat go aground and no major injuries. Tomorrow mornings the forecast is for even higher winds and it feels sort of like a snow day. Movement is limited but communication is thick on the radio and happily I doubt there is a boater amongst us who doesn’t actually enjoy an excuse to spend the day doing pretty much nothing other than simply quietly being aboard their boat.
Kat
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
4/12 Getting ready for the Sea of Cortez
We are back in Mazatlan, in the yard doing boat projects. Mazatlan won by default for the work because we needed to be back here to meet my sister and my mom for a visit. We had a great visit though I was forced to spend the last few days holed up in bed fighting a high temperature so I missed some precious time with them.
The work that is being done stems from the emergency repairs we did a few months ago in Marina Del Rey where we had attempted a hasty repair on our leaking rudder post. Their quote of $267 for the first three days turned into $267 A DAY for the first three days (approximately three times the going rate.) After that revelation we rushed the job and now have to pay the piper. While in Muertos a few weeks ago while we scrubbed barnacles off the bottom eagle eyed Bill noticed what looked like delamination over the area of our repair on our rudder skeg . We had applied some of the epoxy over our sloughing bottom paint. We needed to pull her out of the water and see exactly what kind of damage there was. Once on the hard we could see the epoxy slowly peeling away from the repaired area. In time it would have simply fallen off! Oh well what is it they say “cruising is really just doing your boat jobs in exotic places. We should be back in the water in a day or two and then it’s off to the Sea Of Cortez for the next 7 months. Seven months! I am excited at the chance to really sink into living in the Sea but I am also a teensy bit apprehensive about all the things other cruisers have been telling us about the upcoming season.
For clarity let me explain that of the roughly 28,000 boats that come into Mexico every year there are four basic routes that they have to choose from. The majority of the boats spend a few weeks to 6 months between La Paz and Zihuatanejo before they turn around and go back into California and points north either under their own steam (beating back against the prevailing seas) or by truck over land. The next group spends their winter in the same but then go south to Central America or to hook a left for the Caribbean through the Panama Canal. The third group leaves mainland Mexico in March or April for a three week passage to the South Pacific and beyond (our route next spring.)
The fourth group goes into the Sea of Cortez for the season. That fourth group is then further divided. You see a summer in the Sea of Cortez is terribly hot, absurdly dry, extremely remote and in the southern end hurricane prone. So of those who head into the Sea most only plan on spending a few months there. Usually they take their boats out of the water and take the opportunity to travel north to cooler climates to attend to homes, families and work during the hottest months. We are part of the small group that stay the entire season mucking about in the Sea.
But no matter the choice for each boat they have to get far enough either south, west or north of the main Mexican cruising waters in order to get out of the hurricane zone. Most boats have to be north of a certain latitude in order to have insurance coverage. Our policy pays for whatever difficulty we have as long as it is NOT a named storm. If it has a name we are on our own. Our goal is The Bay of L.A. which should be safe and secure. In addition we will monitor the daily weather forecasts and if there is any indication of a storm headed our way we will run to which ever hurricane hole (already scoped out on our charts) looks like the safest harbor.
Of the problems with staying in the Sea all season the heat will have the most impact. It is reported to be hot. Hot, hot, hot. 110! I have been busy working on a full boat shade that I hope will give us some protection. In a perfect world I would just be able to hang a giant rectangle over the deck that would be easy to put up and take down (in case of sudden high winds.) But this boat is not a perfect world. We will be spending weeks at a time at anchor and will be relying on our solar panels for power. In order to allow our solar panels to work for us I had to devise a series of sort of stair stepping pieces. In the end we will either use it a lot or decide it’s too much trouble and never put it up. Time will tell. We are definitely counting on our ventilation which is better than most boats. Our old school boat has16 opening port lights, two companionways and three large hatches all of which now have home made bug screens, yea!
Another big difference in the Sea will be the relative isolation. There are only a handful of places to get provisions so we are looking at this as a sort of a dry run for when we sail across the Pacific next year. We have already begun the first of many trips to the grocery with our day hikers hauling home long shelf life foods. My plan is to flesh out meals of fish and rice with canned goods, pasta and sauces (the fishing is reported to be fantastic.) New stores of meat, dairy, fresh fruit and vegetables will be expensive, limited in choice and few and far between. But though I have gotten pretty self sufficient by being able to make my own flour and corn tortillas, fresh bread, rolls and biscuits, homemade yoghurt and even fresh cheese I am not sure how enticing kitchen chores will be if it’s sweltering hot in my galley.
We have been given lots of pointers on provisioning which helps but in the end you just have to sort of guess. Do you know how many rolls of toilet paper you use in a month or how many boxes of cereal you go through? Nobody is going to starve to death but we are told that things like packets of pudding mix, canned fruit and chocolate will become worth their weight in gold.
Our trusty water maker is the one item that will make the difference between a season of comfort and a season of roughing it. Fresh water will be extremely valuable if we are swimming, snorkeling and diving to while away our time. The old days of having to ration our drinking water is behind us thank you very much! Having the luxury of a fresh shower everyday is going to be mighty wonderful and many say it will become the highlight of our day.
We are very excited to begin experiencing the sea life that is legendary in the northern Sea. We have heard stories of wondrous things. One from my wish list will be the chance to swim with the whale sharks. There are several families of whale sharks living in the northern reaches of the Sea and the cruisers keep tabs on them simply because it’s an amazing experience to swim with the huge creatures. These filter feeding sharks grow to more than 40 feet long and weigh up to 79,000 pounds (that’s not a typo!!) They are reported to live for up to 70 years and are virtually unchanged from the whale shark of 60 million years ago. They are gentle things that seem to enjoy human company so if we find them I promise when I jump in I will be sure to bring along my underwater camera so I can share the pictures with everyone.
kat
The work that is being done stems from the emergency repairs we did a few months ago in Marina Del Rey where we had attempted a hasty repair on our leaking rudder post. Their quote of $267 for the first three days turned into $267 A DAY for the first three days (approximately three times the going rate.) After that revelation we rushed the job and now have to pay the piper. While in Muertos a few weeks ago while we scrubbed barnacles off the bottom eagle eyed Bill noticed what looked like delamination over the area of our repair on our rudder skeg . We had applied some of the epoxy over our sloughing bottom paint. We needed to pull her out of the water and see exactly what kind of damage there was. Once on the hard we could see the epoxy slowly peeling away from the repaired area. In time it would have simply fallen off! Oh well what is it they say “cruising is really just doing your boat jobs in exotic places. We should be back in the water in a day or two and then it’s off to the Sea Of Cortez for the next 7 months. Seven months! I am excited at the chance to really sink into living in the Sea but I am also a teensy bit apprehensive about all the things other cruisers have been telling us about the upcoming season.
For clarity let me explain that of the roughly 28,000 boats that come into Mexico every year there are four basic routes that they have to choose from. The majority of the boats spend a few weeks to 6 months between La Paz and Zihuatanejo before they turn around and go back into California and points north either under their own steam (beating back against the prevailing seas) or by truck over land. The next group spends their winter in the same but then go south to Central America or to hook a left for the Caribbean through the Panama Canal. The third group leaves mainland Mexico in March or April for a three week passage to the South Pacific and beyond (our route next spring.)
The fourth group goes into the Sea of Cortez for the season. That fourth group is then further divided. You see a summer in the Sea of Cortez is terribly hot, absurdly dry, extremely remote and in the southern end hurricane prone. So of those who head into the Sea most only plan on spending a few months there. Usually they take their boats out of the water and take the opportunity to travel north to cooler climates to attend to homes, families and work during the hottest months. We are part of the small group that stay the entire season mucking about in the Sea.
But no matter the choice for each boat they have to get far enough either south, west or north of the main Mexican cruising waters in order to get out of the hurricane zone. Most boats have to be north of a certain latitude in order to have insurance coverage. Our policy pays for whatever difficulty we have as long as it is NOT a named storm. If it has a name we are on our own. Our goal is The Bay of L.A. which should be safe and secure. In addition we will monitor the daily weather forecasts and if there is any indication of a storm headed our way we will run to which ever hurricane hole (already scoped out on our charts) looks like the safest harbor.
Of the problems with staying in the Sea all season the heat will have the most impact. It is reported to be hot. Hot, hot, hot. 110! I have been busy working on a full boat shade that I hope will give us some protection. In a perfect world I would just be able to hang a giant rectangle over the deck that would be easy to put up and take down (in case of sudden high winds.) But this boat is not a perfect world. We will be spending weeks at a time at anchor and will be relying on our solar panels for power. In order to allow our solar panels to work for us I had to devise a series of sort of stair stepping pieces. In the end we will either use it a lot or decide it’s too much trouble and never put it up. Time will tell. We are definitely counting on our ventilation which is better than most boats. Our old school boat has16 opening port lights, two companionways and three large hatches all of which now have home made bug screens, yea!
Another big difference in the Sea will be the relative isolation. There are only a handful of places to get provisions so we are looking at this as a sort of a dry run for when we sail across the Pacific next year. We have already begun the first of many trips to the grocery with our day hikers hauling home long shelf life foods. My plan is to flesh out meals of fish and rice with canned goods, pasta and sauces (the fishing is reported to be fantastic.) New stores of meat, dairy, fresh fruit and vegetables will be expensive, limited in choice and few and far between. But though I have gotten pretty self sufficient by being able to make my own flour and corn tortillas, fresh bread, rolls and biscuits, homemade yoghurt and even fresh cheese I am not sure how enticing kitchen chores will be if it’s sweltering hot in my galley.
We have been given lots of pointers on provisioning which helps but in the end you just have to sort of guess. Do you know how many rolls of toilet paper you use in a month or how many boxes of cereal you go through? Nobody is going to starve to death but we are told that things like packets of pudding mix, canned fruit and chocolate will become worth their weight in gold.
Our trusty water maker is the one item that will make the difference between a season of comfort and a season of roughing it. Fresh water will be extremely valuable if we are swimming, snorkeling and diving to while away our time. The old days of having to ration our drinking water is behind us thank you very much! Having the luxury of a fresh shower everyday is going to be mighty wonderful and many say it will become the highlight of our day.
We are very excited to begin experiencing the sea life that is legendary in the northern Sea. We have heard stories of wondrous things. One from my wish list will be the chance to swim with the whale sharks. There are several families of whale sharks living in the northern reaches of the Sea and the cruisers keep tabs on them simply because it’s an amazing experience to swim with the huge creatures. These filter feeding sharks grow to more than 40 feet long and weigh up to 79,000 pounds (that’s not a typo!!) They are reported to live for up to 70 years and are virtually unchanged from the whale shark of 60 million years ago. They are gentle things that seem to enjoy human company so if we find them I promise when I jump in I will be sure to bring along my underwater camera so I can share the pictures with everyone.
kat
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