July 12-14, 2013   Manzanillo to Banderas Bay


We had intended to only stop in Manzanillo long enough to get gas, but of course we stayed longer.  There was still a lot of storm out there and since we did not get in until dawn, we needed to sleep most of the day.  We did not try to go ashore since there is a $20/day fee to tie up the dingy, just hung out on the boat and stored up our energy for what will hopefully be the last push.  The bay is full of enormous cargo ships waiting for their turn to go into the harbor to unload.  At one point Alan counted 10 of them.

Next morning the weather was looking better so we weighed anchor and headed for the gas dock.  As we got there and tried to tie up we realized that there were large swells coming around the corner of the breakwater.  Poor Rhapsody was banging against the dock and being pulled back and forth wildly.  Just then the attendant can running down and through sign language, got us to understand that we should tie the bow to a buoy in the middle of the channel and back in and tie the stern to the dock.  This looks impossible but there did not seem to be any other way and we need fuel. 

We managed to grab the buoy line but it is really short.  We tie a dock line onto it but it still is not long enough.  Another dock line is added to the first and we start to back up to the dock.  Still not long enough.  Another line is added.  And then a sport fishing boat moves into the dock to take on fuel.  Through all this, we are crosswise in the middle of a narrow channel.  It is 9:30 in the morning and other boats are coming in and out, including the tour boats.  The swells are tossing us around.  Rhapsody does not back straight, even in calm water.  Eventually, the other boat leaves and we manage to back close enough for the dock attendant to grab a stern line and tie us on.  I am completely stressed out.  Just as we start fueling up, the harbor master shows up and wants to know what the heck is going on.  Apparently the other boats have complained that we are blocking the channel and they are having trouble getting past us.  Eventually we have our fuel.  Now we need to pay.  Luckily we have enough cash.  Otherwise Alan was going to have to leap a 3 foot gap and walk over to the office to pay by credit card.  The money is wrapped around a fork, secured with a rubber band, put into a bucket and swung ashore.  The fork and change are returned and we are finally done.  Stern lines cast off.  Bow lines pulled in and untied and we are off to Banderas Bay.

After what we have been through, this last sail was fairly uneventful.  We had the usual light winds, large puffy clouds over land, lightning at night but nothing too dramatic.  With a combination of sails and engine we made fairly good time and rounded Cabo Corrientes about 3:00 the next afternoon.  We are officially in Banderas Bay!  Of course it is still 20 miles across the bay to La Cruz where we plan to anchor for the night.  but it stays light until 9pm so we should be fine.

I throw the fishing line out and actually catch a fish, a mackerel and not too big.  Sometime during our trip south, I had forgotten to pull the line in overnight.  It had gotten wrapped around the prop during one of the storms.  The hook came off and the middle of the line melted into a blob of nylon. however, both ends were OK, so I added some more line in the middle and attached a new cedar plug and hook.  This is the first time I have used it.  This hook is smaller so the fish was smaller,  a much better size for the two of us.  That other hook was catching fish that were much too big. 

The anchorage at La Cruz is almost empty.  There are only 5 other boats anchored out and 3 of them look like they are here indefinitely.  You would think there would be plenty of room to anchor, but somehow Alan still puts us right between 2 other boats.  Oh well.  It is lovely and cool.  We cook the fish and then sit on deck and watch the clouds roll and the lightning dance on the other side of the bay.  Tomorrow or the next day we will move into the marina for the rest of the year.

July 9-11, 2013  Lazaro Cardenas to Manzanillo,  Stormy

Fingers crossed, we cranked over the engine.  After a few odd hiccups and squeals, it started.  We intend to keep it on until we get to the next port, Manzanillo, 175 miles up the coast.  As we are packing up and getting ready to leave, the port control officer comes out on the little Boston Whaler.  He wants to be sure we are OK.  Everything working? Where are we headed?  Alan is concerned about getting under the bridge.  After some discussion, he calls bridge control.  We think we need 16 meters to clear.  Bridge control says they have 15 meters but we made it under on the way up.  So the plan is to go very slowly and if it looks like we will not clear, bridge control will give the work to throw it into reverse and wait while they raise the bridge.  I am not sure they realize that it is not that easy to stop our forward motion, especially with the river current. Let’s hope we clear.  Once again we squeak under, although we don’t get the all clear until we are literally under the bridge.  Not sure what would have happened if it wasn’t clear.


Now we are in the main channel, heading for the breakwater and the open ocean again.  Big waves from the bridge crew and all of the fishermen heading out in their pongas.  Out of the harbor, there are 5 large ships at anchor, waiting for their turn for a dock to load.  Apparently the harbor is full and we hear them on the radio complaining about having to wait is such a rolly sea.  There are big swells but the sky is clear.  Not much wind but it doesn’t matter since we intend to motor all the way anyway.  At this point we just want to be back. 

Of course the wind is right on the nose.  During my watch I tack and tack and tack again, trying to get wind in the sails to help the engine.  There is lots of chop, apparent  wind is 15-18 knots and it feels like we are fighting a current.  There is lightning in the distance but stars overhead.  Despite all, we are making 3+ knots of speed.  Not too bad.    When the weather is calm, I usually read on my watch but the auto pilots won’t hold in this kind of weather, so I need to hang on to the tiller and steer the whole time.  Not possible to read.  The sound system is messed up so we can’t use the cd player but my wonderful son has loaded my iPhone with my favorite music and podcasts.  The speaker is not very loud and hard to hear over the noise of the engine, wind and waves but I figure out that I can tuck it under the strap of my life vest right by my ear and hear just fine.  Makes a big difference to have something to listen to.

Next day looks clear although there is more wind than usual in the morning.  The big swells have finally gone and the sea is much calmer.  Our speed is up to 4.5 knots and we are on track to be in Manzanillo early tomorrow morning.  We have gotten quite accustomed to clouds building over the land in the late afternoon and turning into thunderstorms overnight, so we are not too worried when it starts to cloud up about 3 in the afternoon.  But this does not seem to be just little storms, the clouds are huge and dark and swirly.  We can see lightning along the shore and hear the thunder but it is clear out to sea, so I abandon the planned route and head away from the storm, hoping that it will go the other way.  No such luck.  About  4:30 it hits with a vengeance, thunder, lightning, wind and rain.  Luckily we had reefed the mail sail earlier and did not have the jib up.  It is supposed to be my watch but I can’t handle it.  I am sorry but the lightning freaks me out.  We have our battery cables over the side and there is not anything else we can do, but I hate it.  I promise Alan that I will take over again as soon as the lightning goes away.  Except that it does not let up.  This is not some brief afternoon storm but a raging gale that lasts for 6 hours.  At one point the wind speed is almost 30 knots.  Diid we leave port too early?  Is this a leftover piece of Hurricane Erick?  With no internet we cannot tell. 

 Eventually Alan needs a break , although I actually think he is having a ball.  Now it is my turn to battle wind and waves.  The engine is still chugging along just fine.  The throttle was slipping so Alan has tied it so it can’t move.  Let’s hope I don’t want to slow down.  With this much wind, I can barely hold the tiller.  I brace my feet against the side of the cockpit and prop the tiller against my hip and hold on.  I call this my “yoga twist” autopilot.  At one point it seems like I should let out the sails to take the strain off but I can’t get to the main sheet without letting go of the tiller so I just hang on and ride it out.  I know that we should be getting close to Manzanillo but the storm is so thick that I cannot see any lights yet.  One interesting problem is that when it rains too hard, the raindrops hitting the screen of the iPad act like finger touches and change the settings so you need to go down below to check the course and see if there are other ships.    One more thing to work out.  It needs it’s own little awning.

Little by little the storm finally starts to blow out, but not without a few parting shots.  The wind drops down to 4-5 knots, making the sails flap and jibe and then hits again with gusts of 20 knots.  As a final good-bye, the boat is suddenly surrounded by 15-20 lightning strikes, straight down into the ocean and horizontal between clouds and almost simultaneous thunder loud enough to leave your ears ringing.  Beautiful, but much too much and much too close. 

The clouds finally lift and I can see the shore lights and the flashing light from the lighthouse at the harbor.  Also lots of other ships around.  Most of them are at anchor but a couple go steaming past on their way out.  Lightning has moved off to the distance but not stopped.  There are still bright flashes to the west and now they are bright pink for some reason.  Now that it looks like we are almost there, it seems to take forever to go the last 10 miles.  Another rain cloud moves over and the lightning looks closer.  Storms are not allowed to turn around and come back once they have passed, right?  Eventually we round the point and enter the harbor.  Lights everywhere.  Huge ships blazing with lights anchored all over the bay.  We find our way to the anchorage at Las Hades and drop anchor.  Whew!

Lazaro Cardenas

July 4- 9, 2013  Lazaro Cardenas

First job this morning is to check in with the port captain.  Bright and early, our caretakers are here to remind us and see if they can help.  I beg for an hour to finish breakfast and get the paperwork together.  10am, they are back so we set off.  There is space to tie up at the dock with all the pilot boats.  Our guides are there to be sure we are OK.  The guard lets us through the locked gate and into a lovely compound.  there are long low buildings spread out on green grass.  Sidewalks are lined with flowering hedges.  Everything is clean and neat and wonder of wonders, not a sign of crumbling concrete.  The Port Captain building is air conditioned and we are escorted to his private office upstairs where we hand over our paperwork.  He goes through every one of our entry and exit papers, trying to make sense of our travels and makes copies of everything.  While it is obvious he would rather we were not here, he is really very nice and speaks some English. The main question is what is wrong and how long will it take to fix it?  Alan has not had time yet to take the starter apart to see so we really don’t know the answer to this but obviously we will be here at least one day, probably two.

Once our paperwork was done, we were informed that there would be an inspection of the boat.  Almost as soon as we got back to the boat,  the Port Captain pulled along side with another officer for the inspection.  Turns out it was a safety check.  They wanted to know if we had everything from a bell to GPS to charts to life jackets.  We passed with flying colors and were handed an official certificate of safety, along with a copy of the check list.  I had the feeling that they wanted to be sure we would not end up back here again.  Through all this, there was never any mention of any fee for service.  I guess the navy must have chalked it up to training.

Back on the boat, Alan tackles the starter while I write up our adventures with the Mexican navy and sort photos.  Eventually he decided that it is not a simple problem that he can fix himself.  We need an electrician.  Back to report to the Port Captain who makes a phone call and gives us directions to shop called Flame, where they should be able to help us.  On the boat, we are anchored in a river lined with green trees.  As we step through the gate of the Port Captain complex, we are in a bustling port city.  The shop we are looking for is just up the street.  Turns out to be an auto repair shop.  After a certain amount of confusion we manage to explain what we need.  Luckily there is a broken started sitting on the counter and once Alan points to it, things proceed.  Someone can come out to the boat to check it out if we come back in an hour.  We head off up the street and end up having lunch at the Pollo Feliz, much like our Pollo Loco, and very good.  After lunch, it’s back to the shop to pick up our electrician.  One young man who looks like he is not even 21 years old and his helper who can’t be more than 13.  There is great curiosity about the boat and even about the fact that we have permission to pass through the Port Captain complex.  There is official signing in at the gate and then back to the boat where the guys get to work, while surreptitiously checking it all out.  Turns out the starter has burned out.  That was the source of the burning smell that I was worried about.  It was not the engine, luckily, it was the starter motor.  So back to the shop and reschedule for tomorrow.  The rest of the afternoon we walked around town, found the market and stocked up on food, then back to the boat again. 

Next day, back to the shop to collect the electrician, his bag of tools and his helper.  Actually this is a different helper.  Apparently everyone is dying for a chance to come aboard.  Each time they go back to the shop for parts a new helper comes along.  They get to work quickly and in a few hours we have a new starter installed.  Now we need a bigger fuse.  Since the dingy will only carry 3 large guys, I stay on board and Alan goes off with them.  Good thin I still have a few books left to read.  Hours later, they are back, after driving to every electrical shop in town looking for the right fuse.  And, voila, the engine starts.  We are good to go.

That evening it poured!  Buckets of rain and wind  Hurricane Erick is finally passing by.   Aside from a couple of drips around the hatches, Rhapsody is really dry inside.  The problem is that with the hatches closed to keep out the rain, it is really hot.  At least there are no bugs here, or very few.  The next day is still overcast but no rain.  We are waiting one more day to be sure the weather is clear before we take off again.  This is a lazy day on the boat, reading, sewing, sleeping.  In the evening we take the dingy upriver to explore.  It is fascinating to see the river front lined with chicken coops, pig pins, run down tin roofed shacks and hulls of rotting boats and know that just on the other side is a vibrant port city.  Egrets and pelicans swoop over the water and land on the trees.  Blackbirds perch on clumps of water hyacinths drifting along.  Eventually we pull in and tie up at a riverside bar.  This is apparently the “local” for the fishermen that we see going out in their pongas.  We order a couple of beer and are asked if we want food.  Although we decline the food, we are nonetheless presented with 2 bowls of wonderful ceviche.  Apparently it is included, or else they just think we should try it, being Americans and all.  Obviously everyone knows who we are since we are the only sailboat on the river.

Later, we explore downriver.  The waterfront between the Port Captain and the docks has been landscaped and developed into a lovely riverfront park and is filled with  families enjoying the evening.  There are exercise stations, children’s play equipment, bicycles for rent, kiosks, a soccer field and even a theater with free movies.  Apparently the port is making money and the money is being spent on “quality of life” for the city.  I am really starting to like this city.  There are no tree lined plazas or historic cathedrals but people seem happy and eager to help.

Next morning, ready to head out, the engine won’t start!  Back to Flame for the electrician again.  Since we will be here another day, I would love to get the laundry done so I take it along.  The laundromat is right up the street and they assure me it will be done by 4:00.  Since I have another day to kill I head off to Walmart and the shopping plaza while Alan deals with the motor.  Several hours later, loaded with groceries and having resisted a fabulous pair of pants, I head back.  The engine is done but the laundry is not, first they say it won’t be done until tomorrow, then 8pm.  We finally settle on 6pm.  We pick up some cold beer and head back to the boat to put the groceries away.  then since we have time to kill, we head upriver to the bar again.  2 hours later, the laundry is still not done.  This time the manager is there and is very apologetic.  20 minutes more she promises, so we go across the street for ice cream.   Finally it is done and we head back to the boat one last time.  Tomorrow we leave.

All of our cruising guides said that this is not a good port for cruisers, that they are not really welcome here. Probably that is right.  There is no real anchorage or marina.  No dingy dock.  And yet we had a wonderful time.  Maybe it was partly because cruisers don’t come here, so we were a novelty.  Everyone we met, from the Mexican navy to the guys at the bar were warm, friendly and eager to help us.  I almost hate to leave, but the weather looks good so off we go.

July 2, 2013. Zihuatanejo to Lazaro Cardenas. Saved by the Mexican Navy

July 2, 2013.  Zihuatanejo to Lazaro Cardenas.  Saved by the Mexican Navy

How can it be July already?  We are supposed to be tucked up safe for hurricane season by the end of May and here we are, still dodging storms, trying to gat back to Puerto Vallarta.  This did not turn out right.   One of the issues that we need to solve before we take off across the Pacific is how to get weather info when we are out of cell phone range.  We have access to all sorts of lovely apps and maps and reports when we can get onto the internet but that is only possible within a few miles of shore.  Beyond that we have only the clouds to go by.

 The weather is clear this morning so off we go, one more try to make it.  The weather maps show another potential storm to the south but Hurricane Delila has weakened and turned out to sea.  It should only take us a couple of days to go the  200 miles to Manzanillo where we will stop briefly for fuel and to check the weather again.  Then another 150 miles to Banderas Bay.  If all goes well we should be there in another week, finally.  I am very much looking forward to a hot shower and a long soak in the spa. 

Since the goal is to get back as quickly as possible, we keep the engine on much of the time.  As usual there is almost no wind in the morning and it is against us in the afternoon.  Alan does get in several hours of sailing in the afternoon but we have the engine back on about sunset.   By this time there is a strong head wind and very choppy seas with big swells, left over from Delila.   The engine seems to be working harder than usual and yet we are only going about 2.5 knots and I notice an odd smell.  However, Alan checks everything and decides that it is OK.  At least the weather is cooperating.  The sky is mostly clear.  Stars are out.  Winds are warm.  We can see the lights of Lazaro Cardenas in the distance.  This is said to be a large, dirty industrial port with no facilities for cruisers so the plan is to keep our distance to avoid traffic and keep going.

When next I come on deck for my watch, the same city lights are still there.  We do not seem to have made any headway.  The wind has dropped but the engine is not on.  Turns out the engine will not start!   If it were not for the threat of more storms, we would probably just drift gradually along but given the weather, that is not an option.  We have only covered 25 miles since we left yesterday morning.  Even with decent wind, it will take a week to get to the next port without an engine to help.  Although not a cruiser friendly port, Lazaro Cardenas is a safe port in a storm.   Now the problem is how to get there.  Since there is still a little wind, we turn toward shore, right toward all the large boats that we had been trying to avoid.  Alan gets a quick nap then crawls into the engine room to see if he can figure out what is wrong.  No luck.  As the sun rises, the wind drops to almost nothing.  We obviously need a tow.  Besides everything else, this is not a wide bay like Manzanillo.  The port is up a river where marshlands have been dredged to create the terminals.  There is no way we will be able to sail in, even with decent wind. 

The first thing to do is get on the radio and let others know what our situation is and see what kind of help is available.  We have not been on the morning net for several weeks since we have been too far south to pick them up.   Although the reception is weak, I am able to get through.  There is no one else in the area but at least they know our situation and where we are.  Next call is to the Port Captain to see if he can help.  Radio conversations in Spanish are always a challenge, however eventually we get through, give him our location and tell him what the problem is.  He does not seem too helpful but eventually we get a call back , not from the Port Captain but from the Mexican Navy!  They are going to send a boat with a mechanic to see if they can fix the problem   Once they have our latitude and longitude and a description of the boat the inform us that they will be on the scene in 40 minutes.  They also want to be sure that we have a “small boat” because theirs does not work and they will need to use ours to transfer people to our boat.  Of course our dingy is folded flat and tied onto the deck ,so we use the time until they arrive to put it together and swing it over the side.  We also  take the sails down.

 From time to time we get calls from them asking for additional information.  About 1/2 hour later, we spot their boat steaming towards us.  It is not huge but still a good sized cruiser, about 150 feet.  The rail is lined with sailors holding cameras.  They stop several hundred yards away and tell us that they don’t want to get closer for fear of damaging our boat.  How thoughtful.  But then nothing happens.  We wait.  Should we row over to get them?  Why don’t they call and tell us what to do?  Eventually they call again to tell us that there is a smaller boat on the way which will be here in 8 minutes.  There is is in the distance, racing towards us.  It pulls along side of the navy ship.  Lots of people get into it and it heads our way.  They still need our dingy to get from the launch to us.  Ropes are passed back and forth.  Our dingy is pulled over to the launch.  People get in and paddle back to us.  This process is repeated several times until we have 6 sailors on board, along with buckets of tools and supplies.  For the next hour they poke and test and try to find the problem.  This being the government, there is also a lot of paperwork.  One of the sailors and I spend the entire time filling out forms.  Another takes pictures of everything.  It is hot, especially in the engine room.  There is no wind and everyone is sweating buckets.  The boat is rocking from side to side.  Suddenly one of the sailors comes racing out of the engine room onto the deck, seasick.  His buddies tease him, so apparently this is not a first.  Eventually they give up.  They cannot fix the problem. 

Phase two.  Now what?  There is no wind.  We need to get into the harbor to find and mechanic.  We cannot stay here, there is another storm on the way.  We need a tow.  This causes much radio discussion.  The guys with us want to help but are having trouble getting permission.  Apparently this is outside standard procedures.  The port captain says that they do not offer tow service but he can get a private company to come tow us for a fee.  We don’t understand much of the discussions but eventually something is decided and everyone packs up and goes back to the launch which takes them back to the bigger ship.  As they leave they tell us hat they are going to help but we are not sure what they have in mind. 

Then we see ropes being prepared.  Apparently, although the launch is not allowed to tow us,  the big boat has gotten permission.  One end of an extremely large tow rope is loaded onto the launch and ferried over to us.  Alan uses the anchor bridle to attach it to Rhapsody. It looks like an awfully big ship to be towing us. Will it work or will they just tear us apart?  Little by little the cruiser picks up speed.   Soon we are moving along at a brisk 7 knots.  It is working!   Rhapsody seems to be just fine.  We are told that it will take over an hour to get to the harbor so I make some sandwiches and we settle down for the ride. 

An hour later we enter the channel of what is indeed a large industrial port.  As we enter the radio squawks again and we are told that a small boat will take over.  We should cast off the tow line.  There is also a final bit of paperwork.  We need to sign a waver of responsibility saying we will not sue for damages to our boat and also stipulate that we asked for the tow.  the launch shows up again.  There is a sailor standing on the bow with a clipboard.  They move right along side without touching.  He hands me the clipboard.  I sign, Alan signs, the clipboard is handed back and the launch speeds off again.  The driver of that launch is amazing the way he can put it right where he wants it without ever bumping. 

Our new tow boat is a Boston Whaler, not much bigger than our dingy with 2 large Mercury outboards.   He tows us along to a small lagoon just inside the harbor entrance and we drop anchor, safe from the storm.  We are the only boat here and are surrounded by jungle.  We seem to be miles from everything but we will deal with that in the morning.  Once we are clear, the driver tells us that they are at our beck and call.  If we need anything, just call on the radio and they will come.  He also says that we are expected to call the Port CAptain every 3 hours to let them know that we are OK.  This means we will not get much sleep but if that is the price for being in a safe harbor, so be it   We hoist the dingy on board and make sure everything is secure for the night.  Then we open a beer, get out some chips and sit down to relax.  It has been a wild day. 

About an hour later our friends in the small boat are back.   We will not be staying here after all.  they have decided to move us  further up the channel, closer to town and close to the port captain. They think we will be much happier there.   Sounds fine and we really have no say in the matter anyway.  First they need to know how tall our mast is.  Apparently there is a bridge to pass under, although it is not on any of our charts.  Once that is settled, Alan hoists the anchor, ties on the tow line and we are off again.  We pass container ships and tankers and move slowly up the river.  It is actually a lot like our home port of Wilmington.  When we get to the bridge we stop. Once again, there are people all around with cameras.  We can hear the tow boat on the radio talking to the drawbridge operator.  We move very slowly towards the bridge.   Slowly, slowly we move closer.  It is going to be a tight fit.  We squeak under with a foot or two to spare.  Another mile further up river and we have arrived.  Our tow boat stops and we drop the anchor again. 


Once we are anchored, our tow guys come back to tell us that they are there for us any time.  If we need anything we are just to let them know.  And yes, we do still need to check in every 3 hours.  So once again we are anchored, settled.  The port captain’s office is on one side of the river and the navy on the other.  The river is lined with trees on both sides and clumps of water hyacinth drift by.  We can see a fleet of pongas moored around the bend and the corner of a palapa.  It is quiet and lovely.  Not at all what we had been expecting from the cruising guide descriptions of a large, dirty industrial port.  Time for dinner and the last beer. 

Dinner is finished.  We have settled down to relax and check the weather when we hear the beep, beep of a horn outside.  It is a different small boat, checking to see if we need anything.  Apparently this is the night shift.  I say that what we really need is a good night’s sleep and do we really need to call in every 3 hours?  We finally agree that we will make a last call when we are ready for bed and will not need to call again until the morning.   We are just drifting off to sleep when we hear the horn again.  It is our friends back to be sure we are OK.  This time they have checked with the office and we are to be allowed to sleep through the night but we must check in in the morning.  They will be back then.

Through all this there has been no discussion of payment, except for one brief mention early in the day.  I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I guess we will deal with that when we present ourselves to the port captain in the morning. 

6/27/2013 Puerto Marquez(Acapulco) to Zihuatanejo

6/27/2013  Puerto Marquez(Acapulco) to Zihuatanejo

Leaving today.   It looks like a great day; clear, scattered clouds, light wind.  I was up bright and early.  Since Alan was still asleep, I decided to wash down the decks and get everything ready to go.  Unbelievable!  There are still live bugs left from the swarm that invaded us 2 days ago.  It looks like their wings fall off and the little worm bodies are free to crawl.  Buckets of water later, I think I have gotten them all this time.  Most of them smashed, the rest washed overboard. 

The storm has passed.  There is a light wind, fairly large swells but nothing too bad.  We are out of the bay by 11 and there is finally enough wind to turn the engine off by 2:00.  We settle easily into our watch routine of 4 hours on and four hours off.  Typically the wind is not cooperating and we need to tack up the coast.  I have now gained enough skill and confidence to successfully make a couple of tacks by myself.  There are a lot of lines which all have to be handled at once and if it is not done exactly right the jib gets wrapped around the forestay.  If this happens, I need to secure all of the lines and crawl forward and try to unwrap it without getting flung overboard when the flapping sail is finally released.  (yes, we ALWAYS wear safety harness). 

We have had the usual puffy clouds over the mountains but it is fairly clear out to sea.  There is one large dark cloud ahead and to the right.  If it just stays there we should be OK, especially if we head offshore a little more.  By the time I get up for my midnight to 4am watch, that cloud has moved behind us but is also drifting out to sea.  There is lightning all around again.  I make sure our new battery cables are attached with the ends in the water.  There is an almost full moon, stars, clouds and lightning, all at once.  What crazy weather.  Lightning continues to build until it is all around us.  At least there is no rain yet.  I am really glad to turn over the watch to Alan when he shows up.  When I go back up on deck in the morning, he says that he turned on the engine and radar and managed to dodge all the storms.  I’m impressed.  The clouds gradually clear up during the day and we are joined by flocks of birds diving for fish.

We had expected to pass the harbor at Zihuatanejo in the morning and continue up the coast another 2 days to Manzanillo where we would make a quick stop for gas. However, because of the contrary winds, we had made almost no headway last night.  Now it looked like we would be getting to Zihuatanejo in the late afternoon.  We decided stop here for the night, get a good night’s sleep instead of dodging lightning storms all night and head out first thing in the morning.  We could also check the weather.  The bay is full of moorings, very shallow and open to south swells but we managed to find a spot that looked good and dropped the anchor just before sunset.  There were enormous dark clouds everywhere.  Lightning flashed, seemingly right over us and the rain came down in buckets.  I am really glad we stopped. 

Next morning the skies had cleared but a check of the NOAA weather site showed that there was yet another tropical storm heading right up the coast.  Looks like we will be here a few more days.  Since we have time to kill, I decide on a walk along the waterfront.   There is a charming even if crumbling walkway around the cliffs.  It eventually ends at several beachside restaurants and we turn inland and head up the steep hills lined with colorful hotels and condos.  From the boat we had spotted what looked like the ruins of a greek temple on the hillside so we decide to see if we can investigate.  We pass several barred gates which look like they are going in the right direction.  Eventually we come to an overgrown drive climbing almost straight up the side of the hill through the lush vegetation.  Up we go.  Around a final curve we are face to face with enormous black wrought iron gates topped with gold spikes.  No rust here.  Behind is an overgrown drive lined with broken statues leading to a lovely building with a greek portico in the front.  Reminds us a lot of the Gerry Villa in Malibu.  Suddenly we realize that there is a dog behind the fence and an old man.  He first tells us that it is private property and then offers to give us a guided tour for 100 pesos.  Eventually we decide against the tour.  as far as we can tell the building is empty and we barely understand his Spanish.  We wander around outside, peering over walls and through walls, taking pictures for a while and then head back down to the beach for a cold drink.  The waiter in the restaurant tells us that is is a museum called the Parthenon and it is free admission.  Back at the boat, a google search reveals that it was built by a drug lord/government official in the 70s and fell into ruin when he was thrown into jail.

6/21-27/2013  Puerto Marquez

Several days in Puerto Marquez, a little village, a beautiful bay, exclusive condos on the hillsides.  Waiting for hurricane Cosme to leave.  Lazy days, sleeping, reading, odd jobs.  Going ashore in the dingy to check the internet.  I crashed in the surf almost every time, and there was not even any surf.  Diving off the boat into the water several times a day to cool off.  Waiting, waiting waiting for the weather to clear.

June 19-21, 2013,  Acapulco

Anchored in Puerto Marquez.  This is a beautiful harbor, fitting all the pictures of sailing in a tropical paradise.  Deep water surrounded by tall cliffs.  Thick forests with colorful blossoms on the trees.  The sound of birds.  Only a few other boats.   The water is wonderfully warm and we dive off the boat for a swim several times a day.  The nasty weather from the night before seems to have blown itself out.  If it weren’t for the threat of hurricanes I could happily stay here for a couple of weeks.  Unfortunately it is not to be.  We give ourselves a day to sleep and straighten up the mess of discarded clothes and jumbled cruising guides and charts and another day to have a beer on the beach, investigate the town and check email and then we are off. 

We head across the bay to Acapulco itself.  This is truly an amazing natural harbor.  A narrow entrance between rocky cliffs opens into a wide deep harbor with green hills running down into the bay.  There is a line of hotels along the beach and houses climb  the hillsides.  It reminds me a lot of San Francisco.  I keep imaging Spanish galleons sailing in and dropping anchor after the long trip around the horn and up the coast.  Our goal is the fuel dock at the Acapulco yacht club.   Perhaps because it is a yacht club and not a marina, communication is less successful than usual but eventually we find the dock and tie up.  Then, before we are allowed to buy gas, we have to check in with the office and get a guest pass.    Tying up is interesting.  There are no cleats on the docks.  Instead the dock lines are attached to the dock with chains and tossed to the boat.  They are not very long and very frayed on the ends and there are only 3, 2 for the bow and one at the stern.  Actually, most of the boats are in stern first, so that gives them 2 for the stern.  They tie the bow to the dock on one side and to the boat next to them on the other side. 

As soon as we are tied up we grab a quick sandwich and head ashore to the pool.  This is the life.  We settle in lounge chairs and are provided with cushions, an umbrella, towels, menus.  There are not many people here but everyone is very nice and eager to know where we are from.  Upstairs in the main building we discover hot showers and a sauna complete with large fluffy towels.  Just past the main gate there is a very complete ships chandlery.  There is a subtle but noticeable difference between being in a marina and being at a yacht club.  As much as we tout the vagabond life, we also love the life of luxury.

In the evening we walk across town to see the famous cliff divers.  There is an official viewing station right next to the cliff but most of the locals are spread out along the cliff road.  There are hundreds of people out enjoying the evening.  Street vendors work the crowd.  Families pose for photos.  Lovers snuggle.  Performances are at 7:30, 8:30, 9:30 and 10:30.  We watch the 8:30 show from the road and then,  since this is a once in a lifetime trip for us, we pay our money and follow the steps down the cliff for the 9:30 show.  We are just a few yards from the pool that the divers will enter.  It is an amazingly small area to hit, surrounded by rocks on all sides.  The water swirls and rushes in and out.   4 or 5 young boys in swimsuits push through the crowd and climb down the cliff into the water and start jumping and diving and playing in the water.  Then the divers themselves appear.  They come down the steps through the crowd, over the railing and into the water.  It is dark now and spotlights come on, illuminating the cliffside and the pool of water.They are so young, teenagers, with very strong, well muscled bodies.  Soon we seem them on the other side of the pool, climbing up out of the water and onto the sheer face of the cliff.  Suddenly they are swarming right up the cliff like monkeys.  Several of the very young ones are right with them.  Then the first one dives off the face of the cliff into the swirling water below.  One by one, they climb higher and higher and dive down, sometimes in pairs, mostly on their own.  Finally there is only one left, at the very top.  There is a small shrine there and we can see him turn and say a prayer.  There is a long period of anticipation while he works the crowd and then he is off is a beautiful swan dive and the performance is over.

Just as the last dive is complete, it starts to rain.  Gently at first but by the time we get back up to the top and into a taxi it is pouring.  We left the hatches open on the boat and by the time we walk from the gate to the boat we are soaked, the rug is soaked and worst of all, the bed is soaked and rain is dribbling in through the portholes.   Luckily we had put the computers away before we left.  We close the hatches and portholes, which now makes it really hot.  One person can sleep on the dry half of the bed, while the other half is layered with towels.  I get to sleep on the settee.  It pours for most of the night but by the morning it is clear and beautiful. 

When we emerge we discover and unforeseen problem.  The cement docks do not float and the tide has dropped so low that our rail is almost under the dock and the side has been dreadfully scrapped.  Luckily, we have passed the low and it is on its way back up.  Beautiful as it is here, we cannot afford another night.  We treat ourselves to a cappuccino at the restaurant, check the weather and check out with the port captain.  The weather system offshore is gaining strength although it is heading northwest so we are going to go back across the bay to Puerto Marques and anchor until it looks safe to head north

This is certainly a different trip from the fierce rain storms on the way down.  It is warm, there is a new moon. Alan puts on a Dave Brubeck Christmas album on his watch and we drink hot chocolate.  There is lightning off in the distance so I got out the battery cables and attached them but it passes behind us.  Typically the wind has dies at sunset so we use the engine all night and into the next day.  The point of this trip is to get back to the safety of Puerto Vallarta as quickly as possible.  We need to run the water maker, now that we are out of the very dirty marina.  While he is doing that, Alan spots the gecko disappearing into a cupboard.  I had thought she was gone for sure but apparently she is just fine.  Must have stuffed herself with bugs in Huatulco.  Next day we took the head apart and spent several hours scrubbing it.

There is not a cloud in the sky during the day, at least not where we are.  Although as usual we can see them building over the land in the afternoon.   It is so hot that I rig a sun shade for the cockpit out of fabric left over from the awning.  We are having our usual bout of wind from the wrong direction so we tack every hour or so trying to keep on course.  It does not seen quite fair that the wind was in our face all the way down and now it is in our face again on the way back.  At least on way should be the “right” way.  Early the next morning, just at the change of the watch, there is lightning all around and a sudden wild burst of wind and we are going 7.5 knots.   That is faster than this boat is supposed to go.  Glad that it happened when we were both up.  It only lasted 20 minutes and then the wind dropped back to almost nothing.

About 9pm on the 3rd night we see the lights of Acapulco.  We need to wait for dawn to enter the harbor so we continue to tack slowly up the coast.  Unfortunately our lovely sail is about to end miserably.  Every other night the clouds had built up in the afternoon and passed out to sea in the evening.  We would see the lightning in the distance but it had not come close and we had stars and moonlight between the clouds overhead.  But this last night the clouds just got thicker and thicker.  Suddenly there was lightning all around, everywhere, way too much lightning!  Thunder.  And wind, in sudden fierce and unpredictable gusts up to 20 knots.  Not letting up.  Not passing in 20 minutes.   From midnight until dawn, just off a very rocky coast, we had rain, wind and lighting and cargo ships.  Finally the sky lightened with the dawn and the wind let up and we motored into Puerto Marquez, just off the mouth of the main harbor and dropped anchor.  (We found out later that this is where Drake used to hide out to attack the Spanish galleons)

6/8/13   Huatulco - North or South?

Ever since we decided not to go to the South Pacific this year, we have had the question of where to spend hurricane season.  I had thought that we would get to spend the summer exploring Mexico, visiting all of the coastal villages and harbors.  However, I was not thinking about hurricane season.  The danger season is from June to November and the word is that  one needs to be south of 10 degrees by the beginning of June.  That means we need to get to Costa Rica.  Thus, our mad dash down the coast, stopping only when we to get fuel or needed to rest.  Now we are almost there.  Just across the bay of Tejuanapec is the southern border of Mexico.  Guatemala is next but there are no very good harbors and it is very expensive.  250 miles further south is El Salvador.  Although it is not quite 10 degrees, everyone says that it is lovely and has never been hit by a hurricane.  There is a big push to get cruisers to come there, including “The Rally to El Salvador.”   So that is our new goal.  Once we get there we can relax.  We will have 6 months before we can leave for the South Pacific.  Maybe we will go further south, maybe to Panama, maybe through the canal, although probably not.  We have all the charts and books.

Or we could stay here.  This is also a safe harbor from hurricanes.  It is hot and humid and we can see clouds and lightning over the mountains but it never seem to come into this bay. There is one other couple in the marina, living here year round on their trawler.     They think we should just spend the summer here.  There are world famous ruins and the colonial city of Oaxaca to explore.  Wonderful food, nice people.  We could leave the boat for a couple of weeks, rent a car and explore the country.   But it is so hot and buggy.  They have doors and screens and air conditioning.    We have 2 small fans and mosquito net.  We have a lot to get done to the boat before we “jump” and it is hard to get anything done in this heat.  While there is an airport with direct flights to LA during the summer, there is no ships chandlery.  The owner of the only other occupied boat here, flies to Houston once a month to get parts and supplies.  It is really isolated and lonely here.  We sleep much of the day, fight the bugs at night   The water is too dirty for swimming in the marina and it is a 20 minute walk to the beach in the sweltering heat.  No one is talking about cruising.

Alan just cannot decide.  One day it is “go south”, the next “go north”.  Every day he changes his mind.  Now is the time to go but we could also turn around and go back to Puerto Vallarta.  They say Puerto Vallarta is safe from hurricanes, even though it is not far enough south.  Lots of cruisers spend the summer there.  If we go back, we will be in contact with other cruisers who are doing the Puddle Jump.  We can share ideas and learn from them.  There is a series of meetings and seminars in January, and February and people set sail in groups.  The camaraderie and support of other cruisers is starting to look better and better. It has been a long time since we have been able to reach anyone on the radio nets.  We had thought that there were also seminars in El Salvador and that a lot of cruisers left from there, but the more we read the less that seems to be the case.  The other jumping off place is Panama.  Only the further south we go the more lightning we will have.  The thought of a summer of lightning storms is worse than the threat of heat, flies and mosquitoes.  We would spend the summer being hot and fighting bugs and not getting anything done.  We know we need to make  a decision.  If we go north we can move into the marina, take advantage of their summer rates and get to work.  And we would have showers, a spa, wifi, lovely grounds and an air conditioned lobby to hang out in with the beach and ocean just a few steps away.   There is a big beautiful bay where I can practice my sailing skills and an airport with cheap flights to LA.  But it is 700 miles away.  We just spent weeks getting here. 

And still he cannot make up his mind.  Go south like the books say, go north or stay here?  We are into hurricane season now and we need to constantly check the weather.  This time of year the winds should be blowing north.  If we watch the weather very carefully we should be able to avoid storms. The only trouble is, we cannot check the weather when we are off shore because we need to internet.  That means that if we do go north we will have to check very carefully with the port captain and then move in fairly short hops, stopping to check the weather every few days.  This is one more issue that we need to sort out before we head across the ocean, how to get weather data.  Our radio is really good, but is so old that is can not get email.   The more we sail, the more we discover things that really should be taken care of before we go.

Finally the decision is made.  We are going back to Puerto Vallarta. Consultation with the port captain shows clear weather for the next several days, long enough to get to Acapulco where we will need to stop for gas.  We are going to try to sail a much as possible but we also want to get back quickly.  We are well into hurricane season and the longer we are out here sailing the more chance there is that we will run into trouble.  A last trip to the grocery store.  A last dinner ashore.  We are ready to go.

June 5-16 Huatulco, Mexico.

It is hot, hot, hot and humid.  Too hot to sleep except that we are so tired we do sleep but we do not wake up very refreshed.  Besides the heat there are flies, fruit flies and regular flies.  At least there are almost no mosquitoes or no-see-ums.  But the flies are everywhere.  I dig out my bag of bug stuff again and pull out some fly paper strips that I picked up at the 99 cent store before we left.  Within an hour of hanging it up it is black with flies.  Next morning I add a second one and soon a third .  Eventually one more goes outside in the cockpit. 

The marina is small and almost deserted.  A couple of boats leave the day after we arrive.  Almost all of the boats that are left are large motor yachts which are obviously docked here full time.   The swell comes straight in the channel and all the boats are double tied with as many lines and fenders as they can find.  There is a gas dock but it is not working so we arrange to have fuel delivered in jerry cans.  The row of shops is mostly closed although they do open from time to time on a sort of random schedule.  The wifi does not reach to the boat and the hot shower that I had been looking forward to is a cold shower in an outdoor stall with mold on the wall and ants on the floor.  Next to the shower is the bathroom, guarded by 24 hour security.  I have to ask to have the door unlocked every time I want to use the bathroom.  Mostly I just use the head on the boat and eventually realize that I might as well use the hose on the dock to shower.  the water in the marina looks clean but smells foul so there is no chance of a swim here.

It is hot, hot, hot and humid.  Too hot to think.  Too hot to sleep.  I end up sleeping on the deck and still don’t sleep much.  Too hot to cook but I still have to cook meals.  I drip sweat all over the galley.  Too hot to get anything done.  There are three projects that need to be done before we take off again.  The shrouds need have the wrapping around the splice replaced.  The main halyard needs to be freed from its jam and the sail un-reefed.  The mast needs to be checked to see if the creaking is a problem.  None of these project should take more than a few hours.  They take days.  It is just too hot to move.

I have sun shades that I made before we left that we have never used.  I manage to find them and put them up.  At least we can sit on the deck and get some air without frying.  The big awning has to come down in the afternoon when the wind comes up because it is so big it pulls the boat around.   When the when the wind dies at sunset it goes back up.   I have 10 yards of bridal netting that I brought from home and a net canopy with a round hoop at the top that was meant to go on a bed.  Eventually I figure how to rig this to cover the wind scoop on the forward hatch.  I use a piece of the netting and a wooden hoop that find to make another smaller one for the main hatch.  I stitch a long piece of drapery weight along the bottom edge to hold it down.  (You just never know what is going to come in handy)  I also dig out 2 fans and set them up. It all helps a little. At least Alan can sleep. It is still hot, hot, hot and humid.

Part 2

And yet, I find that I really enjoy the town.  It is the most “Mexican” that we have been in, with very little gringo influence.  Many of the streets are double drives with grass and trees planted down the center and paths and benches under the trees.  The trees are covered with brilliant blooms and strange looking seed pods.  It is definitely tropical (Did I mention it was hot?)  There is a large central plaza in front of the church and lots of parks.  Unlike in most other ports, the marina is actually very close to the town.    An easy walk in cooler weather.  The sightseeing buses stop on the bridge and point out the yachts in the marinas.  We can hear party music from the hotels all night long. There is a supermarket about half way to town where I can stop and enjoy the super air conditioning until I have cooled off enough to continue. 

Shops in town are full of delightful Oaxacan goods, brightly emboirdered clothes, rugs and blankets, whimsical carved wooden animals and jewelry.  I have no need for, no room for and no budget for anything (except food) but it is fun to browse.  I spent a happy hour at the local handicraft shop where I get a complete lesson on weaving with the old looms and dying with the natural dyes.  Fascinating.  The indigo color comes from what I think was fossilized charcoal.  Red is cochineal, which is a bug found on cactus plants.  Thousands of the must be harvested, dried, ground to a powder and mixed with water and salt to make a small amount of dye.  Copal bark makes a brown dye and the golden sap has a wonderful smell.  I was encouraged to use the indian names of everything, since those names are much more expressive of the true nature of things than the silly names given by the Spanish and English.
 
The food is wonderful.  We discovered a restaurant called Sabor de Oaxaca and tried to eat our way through their menu.  Chile Rellenos are from here, as is mole.  Coffee olla had a wonderful flavor of cinnamon.  Mezcal is the local version of tequilla, made from the heart of the cactus rather than the leave with a wonderful smoky flavor sort of like whiskey.  We found a “tasting store” and spent an hour tasting all of their mole, mezcal, cheese, chocolate and the local snack of dried grasshoppers, which I actually liked.  I am saving a bag of grasshoppers for Bas and Jack.  The cheese is wonderful, much like a good string cheese.

As a final treat to myself, I enjoyed a temescal spa.  A courtyard attached to a small house in the residential zone.  Two lovely ladies who spoke very little English.  I was the only customer.  First step was to undress, wrap in a towel and drink a class of cool water.  Then I was escorted to the steam house, sort of like a navajo sweat lodge.  Two vents in the floor introduced steam loaded with 20 different herbs guarenteed to detoxify and refresh.  Every 10 minures I was instructed in a different “exercise”; breathing, chanting, visualization.  It seemed sort of silly to subject myself to hot steam, given that my entire experience of Huatulco consisted of hot and steamy, but this was different and in the end, very relaxing.  After my time steaming was done, I was wrapped in a sheet to cool off and then shown to a cool, rock lined shower.  A cup of herbal tea followed.  Then up to the roof where I was scrubbed with red mud and left to dry.  Another cool shower and the the massage.  A plate of fresh fruit ended the treatment.  All this, 1 1/2 hours of bliss for $35!

6/5/13, Puerto Angel to Huatulco

Both of our cruising guides said that Puerto Angel was a delightful harbor so we decided to stop there to regroup for a day before going on to Huatulco.  But when we worked our way into the harbor, past all of the rocks, it was tiny.  What room there was, was filled with mooring balls.  The only spot that we could see would have been close to shore, in the midst of the pongas and right in the surf line.  By mutual consent we decided to keep going.  Luckily it is 8 am and Huatulco is only 25 miles away.  We should be there early afternoon.  We are so tired.  Alan sets the course and drives while I get an hours sleep, then he sleeps while I steer us up the bay.  Again the wind is coming directly towards us, but at this point we don’t care.  The engine is on and will stay on until we are moored in the marina.

The weather has cleared and it is beautiful.  White puffy clouds build over the mountain but the sun is out and the water is calm.  The coast along here is exquisite.  Rugged green hills plunge into the ocean.  Rocky headlands separate wide sandy beaches.  After a few houses and villages just at the corner of the bay, there is no sign of people.  Mile after mile we cruise along, Alan sleeping, me sitting in the sun, reading and watching the radar.  Alan gets up, I grab another quick nap and finally we arrive at Huatulco.

Our paper charts show a cluster of rocks at the entrance to the harbor.  The electronic charts show even more rocks, stretching in a long line  across the bay.  Looking out, there is a bright line of white foam which looks like it stretches all the way to the cliffs.  From this perspective it looks like there is almost no room between the rocks and the beach.  As we get closer the view changes and we can see that it is possible to pass but very carefully.  Alan has discovered another sunken rock on his chart.  No foam to mark it but we need to be sure to steer clear of it too.  Carefully, carefully we enter.  Luckily there is not much wind.  Time to get out the fenders and mooring lines.  While I am up on the bow, attaching the mooring lines Alan calls to look up.  We are about to enter a very narrow channel between the breakwater and a sheer rock cliff.    I abandon my lines to run back and take up my station at the depth gauge.  It stays between 1.5 and 2 fathoms all the way, thankfully.  Back to the lines.  Alan has called the marina and been assigned a slip. There is a guy on the dock, yelling and waving.  We are directed all the way back into the closest slip to the shore.  With 3 guys on the dock and me throwing ropes, Alan manages to bring Rhapsody to a smooth stop.  Finally, here we are. 

There are 2 or 3 other cruising boats here, not many.  Everyone is surprised to see us arrive.  We are way late for going south, or even for going north.  We have a lot to discuss about the next phase of this adventure.  But first, a quick meal and a long sleep.

May 30-June 5, Ixtapa to Huatulco  6 day stormy passage

Finally we can leave.  There is no dredging so we can leave on the high tide.  We are full of gas.  The hurricane is gone and the ports are open all the way to Huatulco.   Back out the narrow channel we go and right into huge swells.  Everything that was not properly stowed goes crashing to the floor.  Luckily we have learned that lesson and there is very little that actually crashes.  It is wild enough that I decide that a pre-emptive seasick patch would be a good idea.  I had forgotten that they make me sleepy and give me a very dry mouth and a funny taste but I don’t get sick.

We hoist the sails as soon as we get clear of the harbor, not an easy job in such rough seas.  We have 8-10 knots of wind, but typically coming directly from the direction we need to go which means we have to head way offshore.  Nonetheless, Alan has a lovely brisk sail while I nap.  Late in the afternoon we saw large rays leaping out of the water.  We had seen brown rays previously but these were stunning black and white and leapt 5-6 feet out of the water,  spinning and twisting.  I had bought a tortilla press in Zhuatenajo and actually made fresh tortillas for dinner.

The wind dropped a bit at sunset and then died away to nothing about 3 am when I finally gave up trying to nurse Rhapsody along on 1 knot of wind and turned the engine on.   The seas stay calm and the wind dead through the night and into the next afternoon, when it picks up again and we can finally turn the engine off.  Of course it dies again at sunset.  And so it is a game; wind down, engine on, sail down.  Wind up, engine off, sails up.  Since it takes two people to raise or lower sails or chance tacks, it has to be done to coincide with the change of the watch.   During one of these sails down, sails up maneuvers the halyard jams on the mast steps which Alan has installed at the very top of the mast.  In the end, we decide to reef it, leaving it half way up and half way down.

We are visited by lots of dolphins.  At night we can hear them breathing,  even though we cannot see them.    During the day we see turtles floating by, often with birds standing on their back going for a ride.  We also see the rays jumping at sunset each day. We are heading toward the dark of the moon and it comes up later and later each night, leaving the sky to the stars.   As we pass Acapulco there is an increase in shipping traffic and we have to alter course several times to avoid them. One huge car carrier passes within a mile of us.

We have started to track the barometric reading on our handheld GPS and it has dropped down to 1008.  Since we have not been consistent about it up until now, we are not sure what that means but it does not sound good.  Normal is around 1012.  The weather maps that we looked at in Ixtapa showed clear weather for the rest of the week, but it is becoming more and more cloudy.  Big puffy clouds build up over the land during the day.  Then on the third night the storms hit.  First lightning, then pouring rain.   And so for the next 3 days we have lovely weather during the day and violent thunder storms at night.  The crazy thing is that we often had patches of clear sky with star in the middle of the storms.  I had packed away our foul weather gear foolishly thinking that since we were in the tropics in the summer we would not need it.  Silly me.  Eventually I dug it out of the back of the closet.  Luckily it is not really cold, just WET. 

The scariest part is the lightning.  We have heard stories of boats getting struck by lightning and having all of the electronics fried.  We are not sure what to do to avoid it.  One of the recommendations is to attach one end of a battery cable to the shrouds and drop the other end into the water.  I think the theory is that if we are struck, the lightning will just go right down the cables and into the ocean without hurting anything on the boat.  I am not quite sure I believe that this will work but it doesn’t matter because of course we have no battery cables.   Alan has started trying to use the radar to avoid the storms, but it is not working.  The storms just seem to hang right over us all night long.  We have the engine on most of the time now, since the wind comes in erratic bursts and always from the wrong direction.  At least the seas are fairly calm.  We do not have to contend with huge swells along with all the rest of it. On my watch on our last night I become very aware of the mizzen mast creaking.  I have never noticed it before.  Alan says that it is a wooden boat and wood boats creak, especially if they get wet.  Nonetheless, I am convinced that a change to the rigging that we made before we left has but an undue strain on the mast and we will now pay the price.

In addition to the weather, there are still ships to watch out for, including Mexican Navy ships which are exempt from using the AIS system.  And on top of everything else, our iPads start to have battery issues.  Suddenly they will not charge.  We plug them in and they look like they are charging, but about 15 minutes later they are no longer charging.  Often they display a message saying that we are using an unauthorized device.  It’s the same plug that we have been using for months but we try switching plugs and cables and whatever we can think of.  We use one as long as we can and then plug it in and use the other until it runs out.  Needless to say, we are neither one of us getting very much sleep and we started off tired, thanks to all the bugs in Ixtapa.  Off watch times are constantly interrupted by emergencies.  Meals are mostly boil-in-the-bag, power bars, energy drinks and coffee.  Finally on the morning of day 6, we reach Puerto Angel right where it should be.  We have completed a 6 day passage, our longest yet and survived 3 nights of rain and lightning.  High five!

5/23-30/2013   Zihuatenago, Ixtapa

A lovely, deep bay filled with fishing boats.  Only 2 other cruising boats.  The obligatory palapa restaurants on shore.  There are several more beaches around the bay and pongas are racing back and forth taking families from one side to the other.  There is no dingy pier here, we will have to land  on the beach.  Landing in the surf is a problem with the motor so we will be rowing ashore while we are here.  The first time in is not very pretty.  We get swept sideways and I fall completely into the water.  Luckily a couple of fishermen come running over and help us pull up above the tide line.  It goes much smoother the rest of the time we are here.  Luckily all of our stuff is in waterproof bags and cases.

We check in with the port captain and set off to investigate the town.  It is charming.  Several blocks closest to the beach have been fixed up with a wide arcade along the front of the shops and brick patterned streets.  The rest of the town spreads back up into the hills.  We are far enough south and late enough in the season that there are few American tourists around.  It is obviously a beach resort but for the Mexicans.  We have drinks on the beach and enjoy paradise.

We only intend to stay here long enough to catch our breath and get gas and groceries before we keep going.  But the fuel dock is not here, it is in Ixtapa, 10 miles up the coast.  Once again the familiar layout of the traditional village separated from the marina and high rise hotels.  We spend a last afternoon exploring the estuary; fishing boats, egrets, herons and crocodiles.  The next day we are off.  Again the marina entrance is a narrow, shallow channel beset by waves and tides, closed is rough weather.  A quick sail up the coast and we are at the entrance.  I call the port captain to report our arrival and ask for permission to enter only to be told that the channel is closed until 7pm and the marina is out to lunch until 4pm. 

So here we are with 6 hours to kill.  We could go back and anchor again.  We could motor around in circles.  We could sail out and back.  There is a fairly nice wind.  Alan decides that this is the perfect chance to try out our new mizzen staysail.  He ordered it before we left and I brought it back to La Paz after Christmas.  We hoisted it once at the dock to see how it fit and since then he has bought all of the lines and shackles needed to hoist it but we have never actually tried it at sea.  It fits between the main sail and the mizzen and is intended to give extra speed when the wind is behind us.   It is stowed in the lazarette but since we have never used it, all kinds of stuff has been put on top of it.  So everything has to come out and then the sail, with great pulling and puffing, is finally free.  Now to put it up.  One corner ties to a cleat on the main mast, another hooks to a line on the mizzen boom.  An extra halyard has been added to hoist it up.  It is huge!  And very blue.    Time to turn off the engine and see what happens.  Interesting.  It gives us about 2 knots but it is impossible to hold a course.  It just pulls us up into the wind.  None of the other sails are up so Alan decided to hoist the main and see what happens.  This is better.  The two work together but it is still hard to hold a course.  the 6 hours pass quickly as we mess with various sail combinations.  Eventually we bring it back down, fold it and stow it.   While Alan was messing with the sail I took the chance to reorganize the lazarette and It actually goes back in much easier than it came out.

Back at the harbor entrance again, we reach the marina office and learn that the channel was closed not for weather but for dredging.  She says to stand by and she will let us know when the dredger has stopped for the day so that we can enter.  About 20 minutes later we get the all clear.  Here we go .  Alan’s days spent body surfing in Malibu pay off and we surf huge swells into the very narrow channel. 


Once inside it is hot and still with very few boats.  The office staff has left for the day but the security guard meets us at the dock and helps us tie up.  Water and power are turned on and the numbers logged.  He gives us keys and shows us the office and showers.  Once again a typical FONATUR marina, miles away from the local culture, surrounded by a golf course, condos and upscale restaurants.  We pop a warm beer and sit on the deck and watch a crocodile drift slowly past, only his eyes above the water.  And then the bugs start to bite.  We had been warned about no-see-ums in other places but not here.  I had stocked up on all kinds of inset repellants before leaving so I frantically dig out the bag and we slather ourselves with some of everything.  Unfortunately I have never figured out how screen the hatches without cutting off all of the air inside.  We spent an absolutely miserable night and got us the next morning to find ourselves covered with bites from head to toe.  Luckily they went away during the day and after a long shower we felt much better.  Unlike mosquito bites, the welts disappeared within a few hours.  Anyway, we are only here long enough to get gas and get the laundry done and then we are leaving.

Right.  When Alan went to check in with the office he discovered some unpleasant news.  First, because of the dredging we can only leave after 7 pm and before 7 am, or from 1-2 in the afternoon.  We are not really anxious to leave in the dark but we figure it is almost light by 7 in the morning.  If we cast off at 6:30 am we should clear the channel before they start work.   That means one more night of bugs.  However, more importantly, the weather does not look good.   And when we show up in the afternoon to check out we are told that we cannot leave.  Not only is this channel closed but all the ports all the way down to Huatulco are close due to a “weather system”. 

I spend the next 2 days in the office catching up with my writing.  Alan gets to know a Brazilian couple on one of the only other boats here and they trade info on weather software.  In the evening we walk about 10 minutes up the road to a shopping center where we can get reasonably priced tacos. Finally, after two more bug ridden nights, we are told that the system has passed and the ports are open.  Not only that but the dredging machines are not operating so we can leave any time.  We are ready and out of there  before noon.  Alan had wanted to be south of 10 degrees (somewhere close to Costa Rica) by June first and it is now May 30.  The longer it takes the more danger there is of hurricanes.

5/19-23, 2013, Barra to Zihuatanejo,  Four Nights at Sea

7:00, sun going down, high tide, slowly creeping across the lagoon.  1.5 fathoms where we are anchored.  The anchor comes up covered with black mud.  Alan has put waypoints into the GPS from our cruising guide but the guide is 3 years old and sand bars shift.  Slowly, slowly we head out.  Depth gauge reads less than 1 fathom.  We creep along knowing there are only inches of water under the keel.  Then the bump as it hits.  Reverse, reverse we are off.  Now which way to turn.  Check the GPS.  Creep along.  Less than 1 fathom.  Past the point where we stuck on the way in.  Little by little the depth increases.  I never thought that 1.5 fathoms would seem like a lot of water.  In the channel now and out of the breakwater into the ocean. 

It is just sunset and there is a good wind.  We are heading south to Zihuatenajo, about 200 miles south.   It all goes well it will be a 3-4 day sail.  Once we are out we raise the sails and set the course.  The patch where it was torn looks good.  I whip up dinner.  I have actually become quite good at cooking underway.  The galley is so small that it is easy to brace myself in and we only ever use the same 1 or 2 pans.  Not much fancy cooking but it keeps us going.  After dinner I’m off to bed.

Midnight, my turn to sail.  Sometime while I was sleeping Alan has turned on the motor.  There is a slight wind but it is coming from dead ahead.  The main concern is that we are in the shipping lanes.  According to AIS, there are large cargo ships all around us.  I never see most of them.  Dodge a few.

The wind comes up towards dawn and blows a steady 7-8 knots all day.  We run the water maker.and take turns sleeping.  Wind dies about dusk and we turn the engine on again.  The sea is glassy calm.  During my watch late at night when I am very sleepy, I suddenly hear loud breathing right next to the boat.  Scary, until I figure out that It is dolphins swimming along beside us.  The wind has gotten really light and shifts.  I actually manage to tack twice without waking Alan.  The third time the wind shifts, I get the sails all confused and in irons.  I finally turn on the engine to get us out of it.  Darn.  But I am starting to get it.

The next day the wind has died to almost nothing.  It is hot and still.  We strip and take turns dumping buckets of cool sea water over each other.  Drifting along.  We try various sail combinations and eventually turn the engine on again.  It stays calm all night and most of the next day, although there are clouds building out to sea.  Alan sleeps most of the day.  We are doing OK with 4 hour watches as long as we follow the schedule but when one of us does not sleep when we should it gets all messed up.  Mostly I try to get Alan to sleep as much as possible during the day, since I need to have him available if anything goes wrong at night.
 

The last night, after 2 days of no wind, suddenly the storm hits. Big clouds have been building all day.   Suddenly there is lightening all around, really close.  There is not much I can do except to keep going and try not to tough anything metal.  We have heard stories of lightening strikes frying all the electronics on boats. when I get a chance, I stash the iPad and the spot in the oven.  They say that will protect them.  Then the rain starts.  There is no cover on the cockpit, it is just wide open.  Luckily the engine is running and the autopilot is working so I take refuge just inside the hatch where I can keep an eye on things but get a little protection from the rain. This is our first rain storm and I discover that most of my “waterproof” jackets aren’t.  I have packed away all of the warm gear into plastic bags in the back of the closet.  Alan is still sleeping through all of this and by the time it is time for his watch the rain has stopped.  I manage to dig out a jacket for him and stumble off to bed.  No sooner has he gotten a cup of coffee and settled down than the rain starts in again.  I feel bad but it is his turn and I am exhausted. 

When I get up again, the rain has let up but there is still a lot of lightning. He has the radar on and has been using it to try to steer around the storms.  He gives me the course heading and heads off to sleep.  Unfortunately there is no way to distinguish between rain and land on the radar and we are getting close to shore.   I follow the course for a while but it seems like we are getting way too close to those lights so I decide to turn and head out to sea. It will be daylight soon and we will be able to see the harbor entrance.  If we are too far out when it gets light we can always head back.  Meanwhile we are headed more or less in the right direction and Alan is getting some sleep. 

Gradually the lightning stops and the sky brightens and I can see our surroundings.  Yes we are close to the shore and there are a number of large islands around.   There is some morning fog but by the time Alan is up it has cleared and we sail into the harbor at Zihuatenago and drop anchor.  We have completed a 4 day passage and survived our first lightening storm. 

May 15-18, 2013, Manzanillo to Barra de Navidad


We set out from Manzanillo about 1:00 in the morning and arrived at the entrance to Barra de Navidad lagoon just before sunrise.  As soon as it was light we headed for the entrance.  The charts show this as a very narrow entrance with, of all things, an underwater breakwater followed by a long channel leading to a wide, shallow lagoon.  Shallow is the operative word here.  After our experience getting stuck in San Blas, I am very nervous about shallow places.  I took up my traditional place by the depth gauge and called off the soundings to Alan as he steered us into the lagoon.  We navigated successfully into the entrance and up the channel past the hotels.  Gradually an enormous lagoon spread out before us, with a few boats anchored out in the middle.  How on earth were we supposed to know where to go?  There were no channel markers of any sort.  Following the charts as best he could, Alan set off across the lagoon.  The water was extremely shallow, just over one fathom, even though we had timed our entrance for high tide.  Little by little we crept along.  Then the depth dropped to under a fathom.  Any minute now we were going to be stuck.  Still we crept along.  Maybe we will make it.  It must be deeper right over there where all of the boats are anchored.  And then we hit bottom, very gently but firmly.  Alan tried reverse and we came free but we stuck again a few minutes later.  Where the heck is the channel?  Several more tries gave the same results.  At least we are in  a wide open lagoon with not much traffic, just a few pongas over by the shore.  I finally got on the radio and put out a call for help.  We were answered almost immediately by several boats and shortly a dingy showed up to help.  After some discussion about what to do, we gave him our hand held depth gauge.  He held it over the side of his dingy and found a channel for us.   With repeated backing and forthing of the engine, Alan managed to wiggle us loose and we followed our guide over to the anchorage.  We had only been off by a few feet but it made all the difference.  Even here the depth was barely 2 fathoms and this was high tide.  It was just time for the morning radio net and of course we were the main topic of conversation.  It is a very friendly group of 8-10 boats, most of whom seem to have been here for a long time. 

Barra de Navidad.  The Hotel Sands welcomes cruisers.  Tie up to the crumbling cement wall and climb ashore.  Ahead is a lush garden path leading to the bar.  A circular palm roofed structure with a long haired, tattooed bartender from Southern California stands ready to serve drinks and dispense helpful advice.  Seated on the stools around the bar are a cast of characters straight out of Hemingway.  Only noon and already so drunk that when we meet again the next day they don’t remember us.  Just beyond the bar is the pool, blue tile, rust stained and chipped.  Water warmed by the sun.  Geckos hang upside down from the ceiling of the restaurant.

The town itself is charming; small shops selling sandals, sunglasses and swimsuits, restaurants, hotels, markets.  A middle class Mexican resort town.  Very few Americans.  On our second night we join other cruisers for a performance at the Drunken Doughnut.  One of our fellow cruisers makes money as a fire eater.  His performance is surprisingly captivating.  The highlight is flaming poi balls, adapted from a Maori folk art.  The lights are dim and the balls of fire are on the end of long ropes which he spins in a mesmerizing series of twists and curls.  The fire leaves light shadows behind.  I am reminded of the Olympic ribbon gymnastics but more haunting.

First order of business this morning is to contact the sailmaker and make arrangements to get our sail to him.   We agreed to meet him at the dingy dock in town in about an hour and set about taking the main sail off and packing it into the dingy.  We also took an extra piece of tanbark fabric so the patch will match the sail.  After hitting ground twice in the dingy on the way into town (I said is was shallow here), we finally tied up at a crumbling cement wall and climbed ashore.  We load the sail into his rusty old toyota and after the 25 cent tour of the town arrive at his home/office on the outskirts.  For the next couple of hours we watch and help as he stitches and patches and talks about the old days.  He had worked for various sail making companies in San Francisco, coming to Mexico on vacation.  Like so many others, he just finally stopped going back.  He married a young Mexican woman and stayed here, doing occasional sail mending jobs and generally living the good life. 

One more  adventure before we go.  The next morning’s radio net included a plea for someone who spoke Spanish.  Since no one else answered, I offered to do what I could.  Shortly a dingy showed up beside us.  Stepping aboard, I was quickly delivered to one of the long term boats in the bay.  On board was a young mexican man huddled in a blanket,  He had apparently ben found swimming in the water in the middle of the night.  Hauled aboard, he refused to talk to anyone.  The going theory was that he was running, either from drug dealers or immigration.  The owner of the boat was a single woman and while she felt sorry for him, she also wanted him off of her boat.  My Spanish was, in fact, better that any one else’s but I still could not get anything out of him except that he was “practicando.”  Eventually I gave up.   He assured me that it was safe for him to go ashore and one of the other sailors fired up his dingy and took him off to the shore.  I heard later that they went straight to the bar and after several beers he said that his brother had been shot by drug dealers and he was hiding.  Not sure I believe it.  There was some kind of scam going on and a lot of beer involved.

They say this is a safe harbor in hurricane season.  It would be easy to stay here and spend our days in the bar but Alan is eager to head south so we are heading out on the evening tide.  The next stop is Zihuatenago, about a 4 day sail south.

May 14, 2012, Monday   Manzannillo

Monday morning we arrived at Manzanillo Bay.  The bay is dotted with rocks and something was wrong with the depth gauge so that it suddenly started reading 2-3 fathoms a mile off of the coast.  I know it could not be right but Alan got out the hand held gauge just to make me feel better.  It was over 20 fathoms.  We made our way into the bay and anchored in front of a lovely resort called La Hada across the bay from the old town.  There were only 4 other boats in the bay.   2 looked as though they had not moved in months, one left just as we came in and the other was a little day sailor.  Once we were settled we took the dingy in to check in with the port captain and to look around .  It is obviously the off season.  The shops are closed, the restaurant deserted and the port captain’s office closed.  Just a handful of people in the hotel swimming pool.  As seems to be the pattern in Mexico, the resort is way out of town.  In this case, I could not even find the main road where the buses to town run.  And once again the concrete was crumbling, the wiring unfinished and the paint pealing when we looked behind the lovely facade.  We returned to the boat for an early dinner and to catch up on our sleep. 

 Next morning we headed into shore again to see if we could find the port captain and check in and also to see if anyone knew of a sailmaker and to be sure the gas dock was open.  There was a little more activity this morning. The ship chandlery was open along with a couple of other shops but no one knew of a sailmaker.  The port captain was finally located and happily stamped and photocopied papers to show that we had arrived.  He also informed us that there was a $20/day fee to use the dingy dock.  We tried telling him that we were just going right back out to the boat but since we were obviously already tied up we had to pay the $20.  Of course once we paid, it seemed like we should get our money’s worth so we spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool.  But tomorrow we are going to get gas and sail across the bay to the old town while we figure out what to do about the sail.

There is one other cruising boat here, Adamansour.  On board are a lovely young couple from England.  They are on a voyage around the world and she is 6 months pregnant.  They are heading for Puerto Vallarta where they will stay until after the baby is born. They have it all worked out. and apparently have met several other cruising couples who are pregnant or have very young children.   They are going to Guadalajara where there is a natural birth center.  Once the baby is born, they will fly home to England to show off the new one to the family before coming back to continue their circumnavigation.

Our main order of business is to mend the torn sail.  The rip was held together with sail tape and was not too bad.  I broke out my sewing kit and added stitches to the tape to hold it all together. We had put the word out via email and radio to see if there was a sailmaker either here in Manzanillo or on south in Acapulco.  All the responses that came in said that we needed to go back to PV Sails in La Cruz, 100+ miles in the wrong direction.  We really did not want to sail north again.  We were already really late to be going south.  And in fact the first named storm of the season was building to the west of us.  Since we have some extra pieces of sail cloth, I could hand sew a patch onto it, but we would rather have it done professionally if possible.  Finally we got word that there used to be a guy  Barra that made sails although no one knew if he was still in business or not.  Barra de Navidad is only 25 miles north.  We could sail up overnight, be there in the morning.and hopefully be on our way south again in just a few days.  Eventually someone came up with a phone number and Alan gave him a call.  He was still in business and would be happy to patch our sail.

That settled, we spent the afternoon exploring the town of Manzanillo and ended up having dinner at a Chinese restaurant overlooking the harbor.  1:00 in the morning we set out for Barra de Navidad.

Adventures with the AIS, or Mysterious Doings in the Night.

It is dark, no moon.  We are sailing south along the coast of Mexico just off the port of Manzanillo dodging container ships.  One ship in particular off the port bow is brightly lit and seems to be heading our way.  When I come on for my watch, Alan has been watching it for an hour or two and cannot seem to pass it.  When I check the AIS I realize that it is not moving.  It is just sitting there.  However, there is another boat moving up behind it.  Coming from the south at 20 knots, it is listed as a 60 foot pleasure ship.  It looks like it is headed straight for the cargo ship and straight for us after that.  I watch the screen fascinated waiting for the explosion.  Who will blink first.   On the screen it looks like they pass within a hair’s breath of each other.  Then, the cargo ship suddenly starts to move.  It is listed as heading for Manzanillo, but it turns and heads south, away from the port, gradually picking up steam.  What just happened?  Did I just see a drug drop?  Surely drug runners would not use ships that were all lit up and broadcasting their position.  The pleasure boat has disappeared off the screen while the cargo ship keeps on south, speed up to 15 knots now.  This puts it back on a parallel course to us, just when I was hoping to pass it.  After another hour, it slows again and begins another slow turn.  OK, maybe it is just stalling for time until dawn.  I guess I will never know.  All very mysterious and good for keeping me awake during the long night watch.

May 12,-13 2013, Sunday, Mothers Day, Yelapa to Manzanillo

After the anchor entanglement, we headed straight out to sea.  Word was that Cabo Corrientes could be dreadfully windy and it was best to round it in the morning before the winds came up.  Well, that plan was shot, it was already noon.  However, the wind was only about 7-8 knots so it looked like we would be OK.  In fact, the wind never did come up and we cruised along at 3-4 knots all afternoon, getting back into the routine of passage sailing after so long in port.  It is good to be sailing again.  It is my watch most of the afternoon and an easy sail.  We finally rounded the point about sunset and set a new course We decided that I wold take the midnight to dawn watch so Alan can get some sleep so I went to bed right after dinner. 

When I get up at midnight to take over, the engine was on and the auto pilot was steering the boat.  Typically, the wind had died. The night is dark with no moon and the ocean sparkles with phosphorescence all around us.  Off in the distance is a glow from Puerto Vallarta and to the south another glow that we assume is Manzanillo.  It is amazing how far the city lights shine, even from a fairly small town.  We are fairly close to shore and there could easily be fishing boats around us.  Since the fishing boats seldom have lights on we would not be able to see them in the dark.  Knowing this has the effect of keeping me very alert all night.  I am up walking around the deck and peering off into the darkness every 15-20 minutes.  Alan has turned on the radar and it is showing a lot of mysterious blips but I cannot see any actual boats.  There is a light of a large ship off in the distance for about an hour, slowly moving past us but nothing else.  I finish up the murder mystery that I have been reading.  Alan shows up to relieve me about 4am, having actually slept a solid 4 hours.  My turn to tumble into bed.

When I get up next, Alan has activated the AIS, our newest toy.  This is an electronic box that picks up signals from other ships and displays them on the iPad.  All of the big cargo ships now have to have an AIS system that broadcasts their position, name, course, speed, name, etc.  A lot of cruisers also are installing the system on their boats.  There are two versions, one is broadcast and receive and the other is receive only, which is what we have.   It shows our position and the position of any ships within a particular distance.  It can be set for 5, 10, 15, 20, 30, 40, 60, etc. mile incraments.  Clicking on the icon gives the ship’s name, speed, position, distance away, size and a lot of other info. Now that Alan has it all synced up and working, we can see that there are a lot of cargo ships all around us.

The wind has picked up and we can turn off the engine.  It is not a very pretty day, sort of hazy/overcast.Our intention on this leg of the trip was to stop at several harbors along the coast, Chamela, Tenecatita, Barra de Navidad.  This section of the Mexican coast is called Costa Alegre and is supposed to be very lovely.  The problem was that the timing was off and we would either be trying to enter in the dark or hanging out for hours waiting for dawn.  We decide that we have seen enough small mexican beach towns anyway, so we just keep going.  We are enjoying sailing and anxious to get south of the hurricane belt as soon as possible.

It has been overcast all day and as the day grows later the sky is looking darker and darker, wind is building and there are whitecaps.  Finally even a few rain sprinkles.  We have been discussing the fact that we are now in the rainy season and the further south we get the more likely we will get rain squalls.  The problem is not so much the rain as the fact that they come up very quickly with a LOT of wind.  On the theory “better safe than sorry”  Alan decided to take down our big light wind jib and replace it with a small staysail and reef (shorten) the main.  Usually I man the helm while Alan does the sails, but I decided that this was my turn.  I need the practice and the wind is not to strong yet.     I brought the jib in, rolled it up, unhanked it from the forestay and got it stowed below in about 15 minutes, and then got the small jib hoisted easily.  Little by little I am getting more confident at this.   Reefing the main is harder and takes both of us.  We got the sail lowered and hooked by the mast easily but for some reason Alan could not seem to get the other end of the sail secured.  Meanwhile I was trying to tie down the lines while the wind kept catching the sail and the boat tossed around on the waves.  Suddenly there was a “rip” and the sail tore in my hands, a 10” tear right at the reef point.  My fault.  I had been trying to tie the sail to the boom instead of just tying it to itself.  We got out some sail tape and managed to tape the tear together.  Not a pretty patch but enough to keep it from ripping any more.  We finished up tying it down and settled in for another night of sailing through the dark.  Luckily the wind did not get any stronger.

As we sail on through the night, I experiment with the AIS app.  It is installed on both iPads which is a good thing because we are having trouble getting them to charge.  We have a 12 volt charging station set up in the cabin which has worked fine for months.  Now they only charge for about 15 minutes and then stop charging.  We plug and unplug them, change cords and chargers.  Nothing works, so we have to keep switching them back and forth.  Charge one as much as we can and then use it while the other is charging.  Up until now I had only turned on the iPad once an hour to log our position, maybe once in between if we were coming up on a waypoint, so battery life was not a big issue.  But now we are in the shipping lanes and we have the new app so I need to leave it on a lot more to keep an eye on  all of the big container ships coming and gong around us.

The AIS shows ships up to 20 or 30 miles away and more but visibility is only about 6 miles.  It is really scary to know that there is a giant cargo ship heading straight for you at 15-20 knots and not be able to see it.  I am not sure if I like this or not.  Usually it is clear that they will pass with no problem and a couple of times I figure out evasive action.  But there are at least two occasions when I cannot figure out what to do and end up waking Alan to help.  This means that he is not getting the sleep that he needs, so I decide to let him sleep past the end of my watch.  Now the watch schedule is all messed up and I am really tired too.  Luckily we arrive at Manzanillo in the morning and can sleep.