May 1-9, 2013, Paradise Village Marina, Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico
I made my way from the airport to the hotel. Identified myself to the marina office and got a key. Let myself onto Rhapsody. It is really nice to be home again. I am surprised that it now feels like home, but it does. Peaceful. Alan has left it all clean for me. I mix myself a margarita and sit out on the back deck in the dusk.
Paradise Village is part of a huge hotel, condo complex complete with lush landscaping, several restaurants, shops, 3 swimming pools, a spa, There is a shopping plaza just up the street and a market. This is a far cry from La Cruz with its dusty streets and local produce sold out of the back of trucks. We are miles from the city surrounded by other hotels and apartment complexes. It could be any hotel anywhere. It certainly does not seem like we are in Mexico. The pool has a full schedule of “activities” with very cheerful and energetic young staff members to encourage everyone to participate. Luckily the marina is on the other side of the hotel where it is much quieter.
I have 5 days until Alan gets back, actually 4 because he will be back on the 5th and I know that he wants to leave as soon as possible after he gets back. One day is spent on a bus ride to one of the giant supermarkets to stock up on provisions. One day is spent getting everything put away again. One day is devoted to the spa, steam, jacuzzi, shower, sauna, repeat. No charge for “members” which I apparently am. I am not sure what I am a member of since they never asked me for any ID but I am not objecting.
Two days I work on painting the boat. There are still some bits of the white trim that I never finished but the big project is the deck. It has a thick layer of some kind of non-skid paint which is coming off in great chunks. Besides looking awful, it is becoming a safety hazard because it is very slippery where it has come off. I know Alan has some non-skid paint because he used it on the hatch covers. I am not sure how much is left. It is very expensive and has to be ordered from New Zealand or somewhere. But it does need to be done and this is as good a time as any. When I find the can, it is not really paint but some kind of thick plastic goop. The directions say to put it on with a spatula and then roll it out. Once I get the hang of it, it is not too hard although it is not as thick as what was there before you it does not really hide the bald spots. I had planned to just do a small section but once I get started I just keep going. By the time I am finished I have used up the whole can and painted the entire back deck and most of the foredeck. It looks lovely. All of the chips and stains and holes are gone. I wish I had another can. so I could finish the job. but like I said, it has to be ordered from New Zealand.
Alan arrives with 3 enormous bags of stuff. It takes several days, but finally everything is stowed. One last trip to the spa and we are ready to go. We have checked the weather, plotted a course, said good-bye to friends. We are heading south. Another boat, Emerald Lady, was going to join us but ran into engine problems and will not be ready to leave for at least another month so we are on our own.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
April 17-30,2013 home and back
The whole trip home became very complicated. Alan’s visa expires May 10 and he needs to leave Mexico for at least 24 hours. Originally we thought we would be in the South Pacific by then. Even after our plan changed, we thought we would be south of Mexico. However, by the time we left Mazatlan it was becoming obvious that we were not going to make it and he was going to have to take a bus or plane to some other country. At first we looked for buses to the US, or possibly the ferry to La Paz and a bus from there. Then we considered a plane to Tijuana and a bus across the border. Every option we looked at was complicated and expensive and gets more expensive as we get further south. He does not want to spend the money and does not want to be away from the boat more than a day or two. And he does not want to stay in Mazatlan any longer. It is time to move on. Finally in frustration I got on the Alaska Airlines website and got him a cheap ticket round trip from Puerto Vallarta to LA at the end of April. This allows plenty of time to get to PV and find a marina to leave me and the boat. (My visa is good until July.) He can pick up all of the stuff we have ordered, see the kids and grandkids, deal with paperwork and be back in a week. Done.
Except not. No sooner were the tickets purchased than he found a dozen reasons to change it. He wanted to go sooner, later, not at all. We could still sail non-stop and be out of Mexico by mid May. I could go home and pick up al the stuff and he would stay with the boat. On top of all this, he began to have pains in his hip whenever he walked more than a mile. He knew he should see a doctor while he was home but thanks to all of the medical conventions he has done, he managed to convince himself that he would need a total hip replacement. One more reason not to go home, so he would not have to face this.
Meanwhile, it was starting to look like I should go home too. Not because of the visa but because I needed a follow-up MRI from the radiation treatments back in December. PV has good airline connections to LA and we don’t really know what the situation will be as we get farther south. Of course I could not get on the same flight that he was going to be on and anyway, it would be better if we were not both gone at once. So the upshot was, he put me on a plane first. Then moved the boat into the luxurious Paradise Village Marina. We were home together for a few days and then I flew back, found my way to the marina and had several days on Rhapsody by myself before he got back.
I got my MRI and everything is fine. He saw the doctor and was told he had tendonitis in his hip and not to worry about it. We hung out with the grand-boys and saw old friends. We packed 3 large bags of stuff to come back and finally finished clearing out all of our stuff from the house. Everything that Chris and Molly don’t want to use is packed away in the attic. We took care of income tax, banking, social security and other tedious paperwork. I said hello and good-bye to the garden and the cats. This time it really seems like good-bye. Our new home is on Rhapsody, wherever the wind takes up. I have no idea when we will be back.
The whole trip home became very complicated. Alan’s visa expires May 10 and he needs to leave Mexico for at least 24 hours. Originally we thought we would be in the South Pacific by then. Even after our plan changed, we thought we would be south of Mexico. However, by the time we left Mazatlan it was becoming obvious that we were not going to make it and he was going to have to take a bus or plane to some other country. At first we looked for buses to the US, or possibly the ferry to La Paz and a bus from there. Then we considered a plane to Tijuana and a bus across the border. Every option we looked at was complicated and expensive and gets more expensive as we get further south. He does not want to spend the money and does not want to be away from the boat more than a day or two. And he does not want to stay in Mazatlan any longer. It is time to move on. Finally in frustration I got on the Alaska Airlines website and got him a cheap ticket round trip from Puerto Vallarta to LA at the end of April. This allows plenty of time to get to PV and find a marina to leave me and the boat. (My visa is good until July.) He can pick up all of the stuff we have ordered, see the kids and grandkids, deal with paperwork and be back in a week. Done.
Except not. No sooner were the tickets purchased than he found a dozen reasons to change it. He wanted to go sooner, later, not at all. We could still sail non-stop and be out of Mexico by mid May. I could go home and pick up al the stuff and he would stay with the boat. On top of all this, he began to have pains in his hip whenever he walked more than a mile. He knew he should see a doctor while he was home but thanks to all of the medical conventions he has done, he managed to convince himself that he would need a total hip replacement. One more reason not to go home, so he would not have to face this.
Meanwhile, it was starting to look like I should go home too. Not because of the visa but because I needed a follow-up MRI from the radiation treatments back in December. PV has good airline connections to LA and we don’t really know what the situation will be as we get farther south. Of course I could not get on the same flight that he was going to be on and anyway, it would be better if we were not both gone at once. So the upshot was, he put me on a plane first. Then moved the boat into the luxurious Paradise Village Marina. We were home together for a few days and then I flew back, found my way to the marina and had several days on Rhapsody by myself before he got back.
I got my MRI and everything is fine. He saw the doctor and was told he had tendonitis in his hip and not to worry about it. We hung out with the grand-boys and saw old friends. We packed 3 large bags of stuff to come back and finally finished clearing out all of our stuff from the house. Everything that Chris and Molly don’t want to use is packed away in the attic. We took care of income tax, banking, social security and other tedious paperwork. I said hello and good-bye to the garden and the cats. This time it really seems like good-bye. Our new home is on Rhapsody, wherever the wind takes up. I have no idea when we will be back.
April 7-17, 2013 Impressions of Banderas Bay; La Cruz, Bucerias, Puerto Vallarta
La Cruz de Huanacaxtle is a sleepy little village with dusty cobblestone streets, except for the one main road from the bus stop to the marina. That one has been paved with cement brick. The business of the town revolves around the cruisers. There are tiny restaurants on every corner, many so small that the tables are set in the street. A number of laundromats and small grocery stores. Ships chandlery, boat yard and sailmaker along the waterfront along with a fish market and the port captain. The longer we are here the more we like it. Although it is small, almost everything we need can be found here. One of the more delightful discoveries is YaYas restaurant. I have no idea what their food is like but they have an entire wall of books whit a sign saying “take what you want and leave what you are finished with”. I go through dozens of paperback mysteries in the two weeks that we are here. (One of the reasons that I am so far behind in my blog, when I get up at 3am, I read instead of writing.)
Philos is another cruisers hang out. Owned by an American who somehow just stayed here, it features live music and great pizza as well as internet and showers and a few rooms in case you just need to get off of the boat for a while. One night while we were here there was a birthday party for “Captain Ron” He was 97 years old and still a wonderful dancer. He was dressed in his Canadian Air Force uniform and charmed us with his war stories, including the time he and his crew rescued the crew of a russian submarine.
Alan is busy with boat projects and not interested in exploring so I take off by myself on the bus several times. One day I take the bus all the way to the end of the line in Puerto Vallarta and spend the day wandering. I order a cup of coffee and a pastry in a small shop and am given a mug of water, hot from the microwave, and a jar of Nescafe. I finally find a pair of white pants that I have been wanting. (I wore the seat out of my other ones) When lunch time comes, I ask a shopkeeper for someplace to get cheap tacos and am escorted across the street and into the back room of what looks like a beauty shop. This seems to be where the locals eat. There is one table and a tiled kitchen and a steady stream of people coming and going. I add a bowl of pizole soup to my order of tacos. Wonderful.
The other village along this side of the bay in Bucerias, about halfway between La Cruz and Puerto Vallarta. While Puerto Vallarta is the American tourist destination and La Cruz serves American and Canadian cruisers, Brucerias is a bustling Mexican village catering to Mexican and Central American tourists. Huichol indians display their handicrafts under the trees lining the median of the main street down to the beach. On the side streets are stalls with the usual tourist hats, blouses, jewlery and pottery. The beach is lined with open air restaurants and a man is offering horseback rides on the beach. There is a plaza with a small church. I am there on Sunday evening and a service is being conducted in the plaza. The slow circle dance with its singing and clapping contrasts with mariachi music and rock guitar coming from the restaurants.
La Cruz is a cruisers village. This is the jumping off place for the “Pacific Puddle Jump” to the South Pacific. Boats start gathering here in October and November each year. By February the bay is packed. There are seminars and parties. The boat yards are working around the clock. Restaurants are hopping. Then in March they start to leave one by one or in small groups. Bound for the next adventure. By the time we arrive in April it is the very end of the weather window. We meet old friends from earlier in our voyages and then say good-bye to them again. Each day more and more boats leave, either for the South Pacific or back up to the Sea of Cortez for the summer. A few will spend the summer here in one of the marinas. We are one of the last boats here that is not planning to stay for the summer.
La Cruz de Huanacaxtle is a sleepy little village with dusty cobblestone streets, except for the one main road from the bus stop to the marina. That one has been paved with cement brick. The business of the town revolves around the cruisers. There are tiny restaurants on every corner, many so small that the tables are set in the street. A number of laundromats and small grocery stores. Ships chandlery, boat yard and sailmaker along the waterfront along with a fish market and the port captain. The longer we are here the more we like it. Although it is small, almost everything we need can be found here. One of the more delightful discoveries is YaYas restaurant. I have no idea what their food is like but they have an entire wall of books whit a sign saying “take what you want and leave what you are finished with”. I go through dozens of paperback mysteries in the two weeks that we are here. (One of the reasons that I am so far behind in my blog, when I get up at 3am, I read instead of writing.)
Philos is another cruisers hang out. Owned by an American who somehow just stayed here, it features live music and great pizza as well as internet and showers and a few rooms in case you just need to get off of the boat for a while. One night while we were here there was a birthday party for “Captain Ron” He was 97 years old and still a wonderful dancer. He was dressed in his Canadian Air Force uniform and charmed us with his war stories, including the time he and his crew rescued the crew of a russian submarine.
Alan is busy with boat projects and not interested in exploring so I take off by myself on the bus several times. One day I take the bus all the way to the end of the line in Puerto Vallarta and spend the day wandering. I order a cup of coffee and a pastry in a small shop and am given a mug of water, hot from the microwave, and a jar of Nescafe. I finally find a pair of white pants that I have been wanting. (I wore the seat out of my other ones) When lunch time comes, I ask a shopkeeper for someplace to get cheap tacos and am escorted across the street and into the back room of what looks like a beauty shop. This seems to be where the locals eat. There is one table and a tiled kitchen and a steady stream of people coming and going. I add a bowl of pizole soup to my order of tacos. Wonderful.
The other village along this side of the bay in Bucerias, about halfway between La Cruz and Puerto Vallarta. While Puerto Vallarta is the American tourist destination and La Cruz serves American and Canadian cruisers, Brucerias is a bustling Mexican village catering to Mexican and Central American tourists. Huichol indians display their handicrafts under the trees lining the median of the main street down to the beach. On the side streets are stalls with the usual tourist hats, blouses, jewlery and pottery. The beach is lined with open air restaurants and a man is offering horseback rides on the beach. There is a plaza with a small church. I am there on Sunday evening and a service is being conducted in the plaza. The slow circle dance with its singing and clapping contrasts with mariachi music and rock guitar coming from the restaurants.
La Cruz is a cruisers village. This is the jumping off place for the “Pacific Puddle Jump” to the South Pacific. Boats start gathering here in October and November each year. By February the bay is packed. There are seminars and parties. The boat yards are working around the clock. Restaurants are hopping. Then in March they start to leave one by one or in small groups. Bound for the next adventure. By the time we arrive in April it is the very end of the weather window. We meet old friends from earlier in our voyages and then say good-bye to them again. Each day more and more boats leave, either for the South Pacific or back up to the Sea of Cortez for the summer. A few will spend the summer here in one of the marinas. We are one of the last boats here that is not planning to stay for the summer.
April, 2012 Gecko Tale
My wish list on Amazon has included a gecko from the beginning. They are small, cute, quiet and eat bugs. Sounds like the perfect pet for a boat heading for the tropics. I can’t have a cat or a dog or even a bird but a gecko would be perfect, a pair would be even better. Unfortunately, no one gave me a gecko as a good-bye gift. Audrey managed to find a hedgehog for Nick, but no gecko for me.
So off we set, geckoless. Each new place that we stopped, I would check for geckos, on the walls, on the rocks. No luck. Lots of iguanas but no geckos. Then 6 months later in La Cruz, at a little street restaurant called Twins I spotted a gecko on the wall. I am sure they thought I was crazy but I managed to convince the owners that I really wanted to have one. They said that they had lots of them in their house and would bring me several the next night if they could catch them.
The next evening back at the restaurant, they had managed to capture one, a lovely pale orange color about 6 inches long! Dinner was filled with discussions of what to name it. Was it a male or female? The restaurant owner announced that it was female, based on what I have no idea. I finally settled on Margarita Isabel, a name longer that she was. Izzy for short, or possibly Maggie. After dinner we set off back to the boat in the dingy with Izzy safely in a plastic cup with holes in the lid. Back on board, I carefully took the lid off and in a flash she was gone. Disappeared somewhere into the nooks and crannies. Boy, they are fast!
Now that I actually had a gecko on board I started to worry. Would she live? Would she find enough to eat? I wanted her to catch bugs but the truth is, we don’t have many bugs aboard except for fruit flies once in a while. An internet search was not much help. Most sites said to let them go but I could not do that since I had no idea where she was. Would she get squished by things shifting as we sailed? They say geckos chatter at night but I never heard her. Was she still there? Maybe she needed a friend to talk to. Maybe she was lonely. A week later I went home to the States for a visit with no idea whether she was alive or dead. A week later Alan also headed home to the States, leaving the boat all closed up.
I got back to Rhapsody first, several days before Alan. One quiet evening all of a sudden there was Maggie sitting on the bathroom counter. Gone with a flick of the tail but alive and apparently happy. I saw her a couple of times after that, always in the bathroom. Coming back from dinner one evening, There was a baby gecko on the dock, only an inch long. I caught it and let it loose on the boat. I have not seen it since either and I still do not head any chattering at night but I am hoping they will find each other and be friends. If one is a male and one a female we may have baby geckos some day. Meanwhile, I am always looking for another one, just in case.
My wish list on Amazon has included a gecko from the beginning. They are small, cute, quiet and eat bugs. Sounds like the perfect pet for a boat heading for the tropics. I can’t have a cat or a dog or even a bird but a gecko would be perfect, a pair would be even better. Unfortunately, no one gave me a gecko as a good-bye gift. Audrey managed to find a hedgehog for Nick, but no gecko for me.
So off we set, geckoless. Each new place that we stopped, I would check for geckos, on the walls, on the rocks. No luck. Lots of iguanas but no geckos. Then 6 months later in La Cruz, at a little street restaurant called Twins I spotted a gecko on the wall. I am sure they thought I was crazy but I managed to convince the owners that I really wanted to have one. They said that they had lots of them in their house and would bring me several the next night if they could catch them.
The next evening back at the restaurant, they had managed to capture one, a lovely pale orange color about 6 inches long! Dinner was filled with discussions of what to name it. Was it a male or female? The restaurant owner announced that it was female, based on what I have no idea. I finally settled on Margarita Isabel, a name longer that she was. Izzy for short, or possibly Maggie. After dinner we set off back to the boat in the dingy with Izzy safely in a plastic cup with holes in the lid. Back on board, I carefully took the lid off and in a flash she was gone. Disappeared somewhere into the nooks and crannies. Boy, they are fast!
Now that I actually had a gecko on board I started to worry. Would she live? Would she find enough to eat? I wanted her to catch bugs but the truth is, we don’t have many bugs aboard except for fruit flies once in a while. An internet search was not much help. Most sites said to let them go but I could not do that since I had no idea where she was. Would she get squished by things shifting as we sailed? They say geckos chatter at night but I never heard her. Was she still there? Maybe she needed a friend to talk to. Maybe she was lonely. A week later I went home to the States for a visit with no idea whether she was alive or dead. A week later Alan also headed home to the States, leaving the boat all closed up.
I got back to Rhapsody first, several days before Alan. One quiet evening all of a sudden there was Maggie sitting on the bathroom counter. Gone with a flick of the tail but alive and apparently happy. I saw her a couple of times after that, always in the bathroom. Coming back from dinner one evening, There was a baby gecko on the dock, only an inch long. I caught it and let it loose on the boat. I have not seen it since either and I still do not head any chattering at night but I am hoping they will find each other and be friends. If one is a male and one a female we may have baby geckos some day. Meanwhile, I am always looking for another one, just in case.
April 6, 2013, La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, Wind and stuff
Not very bright and certainly not very early the morning after our midnight arrival, we looked out to see where we were. Not too bad. We are at the edge of a large group of anchored boats, quite a long way from shore. We have slept through the morning radio cruisers check in but we think we recognize several boats that we have seen before. We can see a small town, the entrance to the marina with the masts of boats behind the breakwater, a lovely curve of beach running off into the distance toward the large hotels at the head of the bay. The bay itself is 20 miles across and 25 miles deep, an almost perfect U shape. After a leisurely breakfast we plan to head for shore to check in with the port captain and look around the town. Unfortunately, by the time we are ready to go the wind has picked up and is gusting to 20 mph. There are whitecaps everywhere and we are a long way from shore. Guess we will just stay on the boat today and try again tomorrow.
During the night the wind finally dies and in the morning it is dead calm. This proves to be the pattern the entire time we are in La Cruz. Calm in the early morning but with really strong winds in the afternoon. We learn to leave early if we want to go to shore or wait until later in the evening. Once or twice we brave the afternoon gale but it is a wild ride bouncing over the waves with spray flying at our top speed of about 2 mph. We do make one attempt to move the boat in closer but it is really shallow here and there are a lot of other boats so we end up pretty much at the same place. Every evening when we take the long ride back across the water to the boat Alan says that he is going to move in closer and every morning it seems like just too much trouble and so we stay where we are.
The solar powered motor on the dingy is performing nicely. However, one memorable afternoon we had neglected to charge it. Alan dropped me ashore and headed back to Rhapsody. About 100 years from the boat the engine stopped. He was out of power ad had forgotten to bring the oars. He tried paddling with his hands but that was not going to work. The wind was blowing, of course and he eventually drifted down onto another boat and tied on. No one was aboard but the boat was open so he let himself in and helped himself to their radio to call for help. Someone cane to his rescue and towed him back to Rhapsody. It is nice to be part of a helpful community.
Several afternoons we are entertained by wind boarders. Standing on what looks like a snowboard and harnessed to a large sail, they fly across the waves, jumping 20 feet into the air and going for yards before they come down. Rhapsody seems to be anchored right in the wind pattern and they dodge and weave back and forth across the stern for hours.
Apparently it is not uncommon for boats to come loose here with all of the wind. We hear references on the morning radio net to a couple of boats that were rescued a few days ago. One afternoon, shortly after we arrive the radio comes alive with concerns about another boat that seems to be drifting ashore. No one can locate the owner. Dingys are launched, someone takes command. More dingys called for and more tow line. Alan takes our dingy and goes to help but with only a 2 hp motor he is not much use. Despite the best efforts, it is too late. By the time the owner is located at a restaurant in town the boat is on the beach. A day later it is gone. The port captain gave the owner 24 hours to clear the beach and he decided it was not worth the money to fix it, so a crew came and cut it apart and took the pieces away. So sad. The owner pitched a tent on the beach and offered the bits and pieces that he had salvaged for sale. We took a walk up the beach a few days later to see how he was doing. There was not much left but he seemed surprisingly cheerful. He had had a rope on his anchor rather than chain and it just parted. It was his first sailboat, a small, old one. He was planning on buying another and trying again.
Once again we are glad we spent a lot of money on a state-of-the-art anchor and chain but Alan is not satisfied. One of the projects that has been on his list since we left home is to add additional rope to the anchor chain. We have 275’ of chain on the main anchor and 75’ on the back-up one. He wants to up that to 300 feet on each. When you anchor you are supposed to let out at least 4 times the depth of chain. The stronger the wind, the more extra you let out, potentially up to 10 times the depth. We typically anchor in 25-30 feet of water. Also, there should be rope on the end on the chain so that it can be fastened to the boat. The problem and been how to attach that extra rope to the end of the chain in a way that will be really strong and also able to fit through the small hole from below deck and wrap smoothly around the windlass. After hours of research he has finally come up with an answer. It will be a long splice, a foot long, weaving the chain and rope together. Off we go to town to buy hundreds of feet of very expensive rope. Back on board, all of the chain from the back-up anchor is hauled onto the deck. The new rope is spliced onto the end and the end of the rope is secured to the boat and rope and chain are fed back down into the chain locker. Then the back-up anchor is dropped overboard and the good anchor hauled up and the process repeated. When he is all done, we have 300 feet of line on each anchor. Enough to hold us in any gale. It is not going to be us drifting up onto the beach. Time for a high 5 and a beer.
Not very bright and certainly not very early the morning after our midnight arrival, we looked out to see where we were. Not too bad. We are at the edge of a large group of anchored boats, quite a long way from shore. We have slept through the morning radio cruisers check in but we think we recognize several boats that we have seen before. We can see a small town, the entrance to the marina with the masts of boats behind the breakwater, a lovely curve of beach running off into the distance toward the large hotels at the head of the bay. The bay itself is 20 miles across and 25 miles deep, an almost perfect U shape. After a leisurely breakfast we plan to head for shore to check in with the port captain and look around the town. Unfortunately, by the time we are ready to go the wind has picked up and is gusting to 20 mph. There are whitecaps everywhere and we are a long way from shore. Guess we will just stay on the boat today and try again tomorrow.
During the night the wind finally dies and in the morning it is dead calm. This proves to be the pattern the entire time we are in La Cruz. Calm in the early morning but with really strong winds in the afternoon. We learn to leave early if we want to go to shore or wait until later in the evening. Once or twice we brave the afternoon gale but it is a wild ride bouncing over the waves with spray flying at our top speed of about 2 mph. We do make one attempt to move the boat in closer but it is really shallow here and there are a lot of other boats so we end up pretty much at the same place. Every evening when we take the long ride back across the water to the boat Alan says that he is going to move in closer and every morning it seems like just too much trouble and so we stay where we are.
The solar powered motor on the dingy is performing nicely. However, one memorable afternoon we had neglected to charge it. Alan dropped me ashore and headed back to Rhapsody. About 100 years from the boat the engine stopped. He was out of power ad had forgotten to bring the oars. He tried paddling with his hands but that was not going to work. The wind was blowing, of course and he eventually drifted down onto another boat and tied on. No one was aboard but the boat was open so he let himself in and helped himself to their radio to call for help. Someone cane to his rescue and towed him back to Rhapsody. It is nice to be part of a helpful community.
Several afternoons we are entertained by wind boarders. Standing on what looks like a snowboard and harnessed to a large sail, they fly across the waves, jumping 20 feet into the air and going for yards before they come down. Rhapsody seems to be anchored right in the wind pattern and they dodge and weave back and forth across the stern for hours.
Apparently it is not uncommon for boats to come loose here with all of the wind. We hear references on the morning radio net to a couple of boats that were rescued a few days ago. One afternoon, shortly after we arrive the radio comes alive with concerns about another boat that seems to be drifting ashore. No one can locate the owner. Dingys are launched, someone takes command. More dingys called for and more tow line. Alan takes our dingy and goes to help but with only a 2 hp motor he is not much use. Despite the best efforts, it is too late. By the time the owner is located at a restaurant in town the boat is on the beach. A day later it is gone. The port captain gave the owner 24 hours to clear the beach and he decided it was not worth the money to fix it, so a crew came and cut it apart and took the pieces away. So sad. The owner pitched a tent on the beach and offered the bits and pieces that he had salvaged for sale. We took a walk up the beach a few days later to see how he was doing. There was not much left but he seemed surprisingly cheerful. He had had a rope on his anchor rather than chain and it just parted. It was his first sailboat, a small, old one. He was planning on buying another and trying again.
Once again we are glad we spent a lot of money on a state-of-the-art anchor and chain but Alan is not satisfied. One of the projects that has been on his list since we left home is to add additional rope to the anchor chain. We have 275’ of chain on the main anchor and 75’ on the back-up one. He wants to up that to 300 feet on each. When you anchor you are supposed to let out at least 4 times the depth of chain. The stronger the wind, the more extra you let out, potentially up to 10 times the depth. We typically anchor in 25-30 feet of water. Also, there should be rope on the end on the chain so that it can be fastened to the boat. The problem and been how to attach that extra rope to the end of the chain in a way that will be really strong and also able to fit through the small hole from below deck and wrap smoothly around the windlass. After hours of research he has finally come up with an answer. It will be a long splice, a foot long, weaving the chain and rope together. Off we go to town to buy hundreds of feet of very expensive rope. Back on board, all of the chain from the back-up anchor is hauled onto the deck. The new rope is spliced onto the end and the end of the rope is secured to the boat and rope and chain are fed back down into the chain locker. Then the back-up anchor is dropped overboard and the good anchor hauled up and the process repeated. When he is all done, we have 300 feet of line on each anchor. Enough to hold us in any gale. It is not going to be us drifting up onto the beach. Time for a high 5 and a beer.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
April 4-5, 2013 Chacala to Banderas Bay
We left Chacala around noon heading for Banderas Bay. This is the large bay where Puerto Vallarta is located. We had planned for it to be an overnight trip with light winds, putting us there just at dawn. I am not sure what we were thinking because it is only 30 miles. Even allowing for an offshore tack or two, we would have been there in the early evening. I think Alan was just anxious to be sailing again. Anyway, just after sunset we realized we were almost there, unfortunately. The moon would not be up until after midnight and there were reported to be a number of unmarked rocks and rocky islands. I was definitely not anxious to navigate our way through all these obstacles in he dark, but we also did not want to just sail around in circles until dawn. At least Puerto Vallarta is not a large commercial port so we did not have to worry too much about freighter traffic.
Alan decided we were going in. We lined up all of our charts and cruising guides and gps devices and studied them closely. Alan put waypoints into the Navionics system. We turned on the engine and the radar and began to feel our way around Punta de Mita. I was a nervous wreck, but in fact it all went smoothly. Quite soon we were around the point and the lights of the bay were everywhere. Now we just had to find the anchorage. We had decided to anchor at La Cruz, which is a small town on the north west curve of the bay, at least until we got our bearings. According to the charts we should be there. In the dark it was almost impossible to distinguish the boat anchor lights from the shore lights, especially since we had no idea what the anchorage looked like in the daylight. I was on the bow peering into the dark looking for the other boats which should be somewhere around here. All I could see was what looked like a long line of street lights on the coast. Suddenly my eyes did a shift, like when you can suddenly see an optical illusion, and I realized that what I thought was shore lights were actually boat anchor lights. They were all around us. Somehow we found what seemed to be an empty space and dropped the anchor. It will be interesting to see where we are in the morning.
One more adventure under our belt, “Entering a Strange Harbor in the Dark”
We left Chacala around noon heading for Banderas Bay. This is the large bay where Puerto Vallarta is located. We had planned for it to be an overnight trip with light winds, putting us there just at dawn. I am not sure what we were thinking because it is only 30 miles. Even allowing for an offshore tack or two, we would have been there in the early evening. I think Alan was just anxious to be sailing again. Anyway, just after sunset we realized we were almost there, unfortunately. The moon would not be up until after midnight and there were reported to be a number of unmarked rocks and rocky islands. I was definitely not anxious to navigate our way through all these obstacles in he dark, but we also did not want to just sail around in circles until dawn. At least Puerto Vallarta is not a large commercial port so we did not have to worry too much about freighter traffic.
Alan decided we were going in. We lined up all of our charts and cruising guides and gps devices and studied them closely. Alan put waypoints into the Navionics system. We turned on the engine and the radar and began to feel our way around Punta de Mita. I was a nervous wreck, but in fact it all went smoothly. Quite soon we were around the point and the lights of the bay were everywhere. Now we just had to find the anchorage. We had decided to anchor at La Cruz, which is a small town on the north west curve of the bay, at least until we got our bearings. According to the charts we should be there. In the dark it was almost impossible to distinguish the boat anchor lights from the shore lights, especially since we had no idea what the anchorage looked like in the daylight. I was on the bow peering into the dark looking for the other boats which should be somewhere around here. All I could see was what looked like a long line of street lights on the coast. Suddenly my eyes did a shift, like when you can suddenly see an optical illusion, and I realized that what I thought was shore lights were actually boat anchor lights. They were all around us. Somehow we found what seemed to be an empty space and dropped the anchor. It will be interesting to see where we are in the morning.
One more adventure under our belt, “Entering a Strange Harbor in the Dark”
April 2, 2013 Matanchen Bay to Chacala
Great drama on the radio. There is a boat missing. Last heard from taking on water. of of Isla Isabel. Mexican navy alerted. Coast guard contacted. Everyone is calling, trying to make contact. After 48+ hours he showed up safe and sound. His water intake on his engine had stopped working and he had turned off his radio to save power. He had no idea he was “missiing”. It was nice to see the community spring into action and a lesson there. If you have promised to communicate every 4 hours, make sure you do so.
We left Matachen Bay while all this was going on, without even going ashore and headed south to Chacala. An easy 5 hour sail put us in the bay in the late afternoon. There is no harbor or marina here, just a lovely bay with a sandy beach and a line of palapa restaurants lining the beach. A number of other boats were anchored just outside the surf line so we found an empty spot and dropped anchor next to them. This turned out to be a mistake. We were too close to shore and and the waves and winds had us rocking and rolling all night long. However, the anchor did not drag and we were safe and sound the next morning.
After breakfast we launched the dingy and headed to shore. The dingy dock was a steep rough cement wall with dozens of pangas tied to it. We managed to squeeze under the mooring lines and between the boats and into a space next to the wall where a crumbling set of steps came down to the water and tie up. We have been so glad that we decided to get this folding boat and leave the beautiful sabot at home. It is made of a tough, flexible plastic and seems to be impervious to getting banged into cement walls and hauled up rocky beaches. The sabot would have been destroyed by now. As usual, Alan took the power tiller off of the motor and stowed it in his backpack. Who is going to steal an engine that is only half there?
Our first job was to find the port captain and check in. While there is no fee, Mexico still expects cruisers to check in and out every time they stop. I am not sure what they do with the information and I am sure a lot of boats don’t bother but we always do. According to the cruising guide, the office was just up the road from the dingy dock. Sure enough, there it was, but it was locked up tight. It is not a weekend. It is only 11am. Where is he? A group of men sitting under a tree thought he was probably down by the dock so we headed back that way. There were several people in the shade, eating and talking. One of them was dressed in a starched white shirt and dark blue pants. That had to be him. Sure enough. He escorted us back up to the office and unlocked several gates and doors. Once in his office, he examined our paperwork at length and made several photocopies. Papers were stamped and handed back to us. We were done and free to go. As we headed to the beach we saw the port captain re-lock the building and head back down the road back to his friends. We were never actually able to find him to check out when it was time to leave.
Chacala turned out to be an absolutely lovely little town. We followed a dirt road along the rocky shoreline, past brightly colored vacation homes and small hotels to the main beach. First thing we saw was a man selling oysters, right there on the beach. Alan could not resist. 10 minutes later, we were seated on plastic chairs in the sand, under a tree with a dozen oysters, salt, lime and a large bottle of Pacifico in front of us. Perfect. We spent the rest of the day wandering through the town or sitting on the beach. In the afternoon we found a table at the last restaurant down the beach and settled in for a feast.
The restaurant was completely full with many families looking like they had settled in for the day. The palapa roof extended out onto the sand almost to water’s edge. Kids ran from the water to the tables and back again. A few dogs joined the fun. Vendors hawked their wares from table to table. There were no walls but the rear of the restaurant where we found a seat had a brick floor raised several feet off of the level of the sand to the level of the street behind it. There was a brightly painted outdoor shower under flowering trees with a continuous stream of children rinsing off the sand. A small kitchen and a large barbecue pit where the fish was grilled. to one side of the grill was a pile of fresh fish. Alan had grilled lobster and I had shrimp tacos. Plenty of beer and an order of ceviche to share made the perfect dinner.
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