SEA VENTURE'S JOURNEY

in case you missed the link--

2010-08-18T12:27:00.002-06:00

www.seaventure.us is the site of the new blog and website combined.

Subscribing to posts

2010-08-18T12:16:00.001-06:00

Those of you where were getting email updates from here need to come find our new home and subscribe there!

You can use either the RSS feed or an email subscription.

We don't want to loose you during the transition from one address to the other, so please, come on by and sign up so you'll know what we're up to and where we're headed.

www.seaventure.us

Come and See What We've Done!

2010-07-08T14:48:00.002-06:00

Okay. All of you who have subscriptions or are notified via email when I post, things have changed. On www.seaventure.us, our new Wordpress Blog/website, I just found out I can import all of the blogs from here. SO THAT"S WHERE YOU NEED TO VISIT!!!!

www.seaventure.us

I'm sorry, but those of you who were notified via email need to sign up for a subscription now as I haven't found a place for me to insert your emails. Please do so. Then, every time I post, it will send you the text, just as if I were sending an email. It seems to be just a click of a button, so it won't be hard to do!

For those not familiar with subscribing: there's a link at the near-top right of the new blog. It says something like, "Hey, there....RSS..." You want to click on the RSS thingy. Then you'll know when I feel creative enough or have enough to say that I add to the blog.

That seems to be the only downside I've discovered so far. If you see others, let me know.

New Website/New Blog

2010-07-07T20:46:00.000-06:00

I'm giving Wordpress a chance. They allow additional pages, which means our website and blog can hang out together. I wish Blogger did the same, but I couldn't find a way to make that happen.

Come on over and take a gander, will you? Let me know what you think.

www.seaventure.us

I can always change back, but this seems a simple solution. If it works well enough, I'll change my writing blog and website next fall when the hosting company sends me a new invoice.

Puerto Escondido

2010-07-03T10:02:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, we slithered up the twenty-some miles to Escondido. And I mean, slithered. What a difference a clean bottom makes when trying to cover ground by boat. I mentioned the slog out of La Paz, barely a knot over water. Michael took care of that in the bahia when he cleaned the prop. But we still had trouble getting over five knots of boat speed all the way to Agua Verde. Then, yesterday, lookee there: almost eight knots through the water. Amazing. So, that's why all the racers keep their boats out of the water between races or dive on them and clean, clean, clean. The La Paz magote just didn't invite diving, you know? Yes, we've had our typhoid shots, but still....

We should have gone sailing, but there were all those projects to finish. It seems there are always projects. Michael finished the aft cabin air conditioning system in Agua Verde -- good man -- and now he's doing some refitting of the pilothouse a/c. This morning is so cool I can't imagine needing it. But just a few days ago, my only recourse was a chilled gel pack on my skin and a big fan blowing. Good to be prepared.

We don't know how long we'll remain in Escondido. It's supposed to be a good hurricane hole. It's also just a short sail from Loreto, Isla Carmen, and, yes, Aqua Verde. We have Internet access here, which we've decided is a must for keeping in touch with folks like my agent and our family.

Agua Verde again

2010-07-03T09:44:00.001-06:00

Oh, my, how lovely this place is. We found the small southerly cove empty except for two motorboats enjoying the day. By nightfall, Sea Venture was alone. During the next few days, Michael and I scraped the boat's bottom, removing the detritus we'd picked up in La Paz. Evenings, sport fishing boats would come to park, but they left in the morning, giving us back our bay and our peace. Michael made friends with a number of very curious and very friendly porcupine fish. They would see him donning his flippers and congregate, waiting for a barnacle meal, coming so close that he could touch them. Even though their spines can be poisonous, they seem sweet little critters.

Michael takes a rest as he floats near the boat.

Climbing out. We love that swim step.

And, of course, the perfect place to make water means the perfect place to do laundry.

Sea Venture, the work boat -- keeping cool under the awning, laundry on the foredeck.

And, finally, an Agua Verde sunset.

Pictures from San Evaristo June 2010

2010-07-03T09:21:00.000-06:00

The moon rising.

A guest who hitched a ride on our bimini from Evaristo to Agua Verde.

San Evaristo Four

2010-06-29T19:34:00.001-06:00

We arrived for our fourth visit to San Evaristo on Saturday, after spending Friday night in Caleta Pardita with about twelve other boats. As we headed out of La Paz early Friday, we experienced the drag that comes from a fouled prop, so we drifted around the bay long enough for Michael to cut the streamers off and rid it of barnacles. We also had a lovely visit from the Mexican Navy. They did a quick inspection, were courtesy itself, and happily accepted bottles of water. The gentleman who boarded took photographs of both instrument panels, checked that we had adequate fire extinguishers, and filled in his form. He also gave us the opportunity to express our opinion of the inspection. We gave him the highest honors -- and his crew for taking such care not to mar SV's topsides! He assured us that next year the inspection would not be necessary. US Coast Guard, take heed: this is the way to approach boaters. You will win accolades instead of scorn.
The motorsail from Caleta Partida to Evaristo was slower than usual. We have yet to have enough wind to raise the main, but the mizzen and genoa pulled us along with the help of the iron genny until about 20 minutes out. Then, no wind at all. We entered the anchorage to find a much different situation from April. Only one other boat lay at anchor, Willful Simplicity, a Catalina 27 owned by two delightful people who left the world of horse-training/teaching/blacksmithing for a life on the water. We spent Sunday on dinghy repair. Ah, yes, the dinghy again. Still, who can complain? With 3M 5200 and West Marine sealant, the dinghy once again will see another splash.
We left early Monday for Agua Verde. Pictures to follow.
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Heading North

2010-06-24T14:46:00.001-06:00

We'll be pulling up the anchor and heading north tomorrow morning. We should have winds to our stern, the best place to keep them.

The conditions will determine how far we sail each day and how long we linger at each anchorage. We'll let you know as we go.

Father's Day

2010-06-20T18:18:00.002-06:00

I no longer have an earthly father, but I celebrate today because I am graced with a heavenly one. My earthly papa had a difficult time showing love, probably because his own father decamped when he was two. I grieve for the loss of what might have been for each of us. But my heavenly Father showers all who come, all who ask, with affection. Greater love hath no man.

So, on this day, I celebrate. And I thank the good Lord, my Abba Father, for the gift of His Love in the form of His Son. I thank Him also for the gift of the most precious husband a woman could want. I may have found him late in life, but I sail the seas with a best friend, a gracious lover, a bond servant of my Lord, and the best mechanic anyone on a boat could ever hope for! Glory! Thank you, Lord, for my husband, a father in his own right, and a step-father to my two: J. Michael Fischer, extraordinary captain of Sea Venture.

He is also quite the photographer. This is the sunset we enjoyed last night in La Paz. It is growing hot and humid here. Time to move on. So, as soon as Mr. Fischer finishes stocking the pipe and fittings he needs for the next projects, we will head north.

And here is our resident night heron. He lives usually on the bobstay, but this evening, he came to roost on the bow pulpit. Michael caught this just before the heron squawked loudly and took off.

Mango Mango

2010-05-21T19:01:00.000-06:00

On the walk home from the radiology laboratory on Wednesday, we stopped for un litro of ice cream for the skipper and one of mango for the lactose-intolerant crew. The lovely thing about La Fuente, besides the fact that they make the ice cream themselves, is that they pack up cones to take home with the purchase. Granted, they should. Ice cream here is like gold. But we have few expensive habits; this just happens to be the major one. And we did walk miles in the heat.... And I did get a good report from the doctor....

So, we have decided that the way to enjoy the luxury of fattening food is to eat it occasionally and in small servings. Which is what we did yesterday. A mere scoop, small, in a bowl. But today it was hot again -- at least 100 -- and the breeze hid at midday. What was one (or rather, what were two) to do?

I only filled those giant cones so the treat came even with the top. Honest Injun.

Michael told me to come look at the picture he took. He called it the Mango Monster. See if I talk to him tonight!

Magote Dolphins

2010-05-21T18:48:00.000-06:00

They come every day to fish near Sea Venture. Michael took the picture below yesterday. Today they were closer and even more spectacular, but M was involved in a project and the camera remained below. By the time I got outside with it, I saw, but couldn't capture digitally, a glorious leaping tail and flip, and then they moved further afield.

For us it's not the fish that got away, but the photograph.

Dolphins in the Magote

2010-05-19T18:53:00.000-06:00

Dolphins must be my favorite creature. I wish I'd had the camera handy this evening when Michael hailed me, but I didn't want to stop watching long enough to go below to get it. I don't know how many swam here, how many were in the pod, but it was dinner time beneath the Magote waters off La Paz.

They arched and dove within feet of the boat, then slipped below to surface on the other side. Some danced out of the water, some surfaced in threes as if choreographed, their movements synchronized: rise, arch, dip again, flip the tail en route.

They've supped their way past us now. But, oh, the beauty they bring to an already beautiful spot.

La Paz last night

2010-05-06T08:25:00.001-06:00

The view off Sea Venture's stern last evening as the day closed down.

La Paz at last!

2010-05-03T17:00:00.002-06:00

We tried sailing south from San Evaristo on Thursday, but the one-foot waves were camouflaged under white caps and their larger four to six foot brethren. We should have known better. Flat seas rarely mean flat and one foot happens only after a good long lull.

The weather guessers missed the cold front that slammed into us. The better part of valor seemed to be to turn tail. We did, heading around Isla San Francisco to its eastern side, which would be protected, supposedly, from a westerly corumuel. Well, yes, it was, sort of, but considering that this wasn't a corumuel but instead that cold front, we rolled a bit in the wrap-around swell. A beautiful place, but we don't sleep well when the boat rolls.

Mama has the mid-cabin, which, she assures us, is quite comfortable. And perhaps because it is in the middle of the boat, it experiences less movement. Michael and I woke slightly bleary-eyed. She, instead, greeted us with a chipper smile and spent the morning marveling at rock formations.

Not wanting to battle waves, we waited until they'd calmed on Friday before we slithered south, hoping to race daylight and drop the hook in La Paz. We set the mizzen and staysail for starters, but the blessing of no waves meant no wind as well. Mizzen and Ford Lehman it was, in cool temperatures and under clear skies.

A few dolphin cavorted in the distance. We passed old haunts. A couple of boats met us as they headed north. And then we got within range of La Paz and bam! The wind came up, the seas built, and we slowed...way...down, so that the last miles took much longer than the first. At seven PM we finally dropped anchor.

This wasn't our smoothest anchoring job, I'll admit. Our first attempt looked good, in a big open spot near the end of the Magote. I drove. Michael manned the windlass remote. The anchor lowered, lowered, and then, oh, goodness, look at that! Michael watched as the chain disappeared under the boat as the bow slipped and slid forward, propelled by the current in the direction of a poor unsuspecting sloop.

I was backing madly by now, but it wasn't working. Who'd have thought the current was that fierce? We'd anchored here many, many times last year and never had we seen anything like this.

It was up anchor and away. This time the spot looked good. We found a waypoint in the GPS that said we'd liked anchoring there last year. As Michael was about to hit the drop button on the remote, some fellow screamed "No!". He was shirtless -- we wore jackets -- and he was madly waving his arms.

Now, I'd have expected him to do the orderly thing: pick up his radio and talk to us instead of screaming over the winds. I hailed him on channel 16 -- twice. But he was too busy yelling to answer, so I waited for Captain Michael to come aft and motor us over to question the fellow before he had apoplexy.

"Can't anchor there! At low tide, it's only 3 feet!" he yelled from his boat to ours. I waved and thanked him, then returned to the cockpit. Michael and I agreed that low tide was at that moment and we had 19 feet under our 6.5 foot keel. If we dropped the hook where it had been last year, we probably wouldn't see anything much shallower. But, hey, who wanted to argue with someone on a neighboring (little) boat? (And what if he'd been right?)

So, Michael motored us around the upper part of the Magote, past all the other boats, and handed over the helm. I tried to place us equidistant from boats, land, and the dividing shoal. M. dropped the hook while I pointed us into the wind -- or current or something -- and we waited until the boat settled in one direction or another: yep, there she went, bow over the anchor as if we were driving in forward gear. Finally, he was able to back her down enough to set the anchor well into the sand.

That was Friday night. Saturday, we walked to the CCC and restocked, especially with vanilla ice cream, which seems to be the favorite of the two who can eat cream. We also lunched at Rancho Viejo on shrimp, fish, beef, and pork tacos. Sunday, we rested. Today is Monday. We just returned from errands abroad, including a trip to La Fuente, our very favorite ice cream parlor. We're set.

We'd give you a La Fuente cone for dessert if you were here.

San Evaristo revisited

2010-04-27T10:00:00.002-06:00

Sunday
Mama is a trooper. No two ways about. Here she is, 82-years-young, and we've been hauling her through rocky and rolly waves that would exhaust anyone. Did she ever complain? Not once. Instead, she greets the end of the day with a smile and a, "Thank you for the lovely trip." Michael and I smile back and imagine what she might have said. If we feel muscles in our hands and shoulders that get used only on uncomfortable passages, what must she? We marvel at this example of graciousness.
Perhaps it's her southern upbringing. And perhaps it's just that she's pleased enough with the results of being here as we drop anchor in an old favorite haunt of hers - the first she's been able to recognize from last year - and watch the pelicans vie with the gulls for dinner.
We motor-sailed into Evaristo in an escalating breeze. The night before we'd spent an unpleasant interlude in Aqua Verde, knocked about by fetch that rolled into the anchorage to hit Sea Venture's beam while she pointed into the north wind.
Most of the anchorages are packed with boats heading north to Puerto Escondido for Loreto Fest. We decided not to stay for the festivities. Mama wouldn't have enjoyed them or the crowds. I'm sorry she did not get to see Aqua Verde at its best: the water truly is green and clear - unless a northerly wind has things churning.
So it was either roll at anchor or roll at sea. The wind was supposed to be dying, the seas flattening. They didn't. There must have been something happening in the north to have caused all the wave action because we never saw winds over 15; they were usually in the 9-11 knot range. The mizzen on a preventer was the only thing that worked. We tried the staysail, but to keep it filled, we had to turn too far so the waves hit us broadside as opposed to off the stern quarter. Motoring it was.
Normally with following seas and wind we can make excellent time, but the waves were obnoxious enough to slow us. Motoring at 7.6 knots allowed us 5.6 over ground. It was a long slog to cover those 44 nautical miles.
But here we are. The water is clear, the breeze from the northwest, the residents of Evaristo enjoying their Sunday. Mama has found a perch on the deck and is soaking up sun, watching the pelicans and gulls.
Life really is good.

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Puerto Escondido

2010-04-20T13:33:00.004-06:00

Here is a picture of Puerto Escondido at night. Don the Amigo Net weatherman from Summer Passage had suggested that the next day might have high winds, so the anchorage had filled. Then this gorgeous sunset showed up, and we rejoiced: Red sky at night, sailor's delight.

For a daytime picture:

Mama and I sailed the dinghy again, which is really the best way to view the entire harbor. The wind behaved well, allowing us to ghost at times and zip along at others. Our friend, Ken Osgood on Lovely Rita, took a couple of pictures of us using his i-Phone as we sailed past him and his dinghy.

Ballandra, Isla Carmen

2010-04-13T13:22:00.001-06:00

After a rowdy 12-hour trip south from Concepcion in rather unpleasant following seas but with enough wind to push us at and above hull speed, we anchored in Ballandra on Thursday evening. On Friday, we visited Loreto for lunch and reprovisioning, returning to Ballandra with ice cream in the freezer. Mama and Michael are happy campers. M. took this picture of Sea Venture sitting happily off the shore in Loreto.

Today we are bouncing around in the wrap-around swell from the north wind that's wending its way down the Sea of Cortez. Payback, I suppose, for all those lovely, mild days we've enjoyed here. On Saturday we were the only boat in the anchorage, so Mama and I lolled around on our little sailing dinghy and had a jolly time. The little boat moves in almost no wind, which is fortuitous as there were mere whispers.

One other boat, Verdia, joined us on Sunday and brought along a friend, whose picture I will post at the end. Now there are 10 boats, all ducking out of the way of wind and waves.

Here are pictures of us sailing my little dinghy around during the last two very benign days, exploring the shallows and the rocks at the entrance to the bay. So much fun!

And now,

for a photo of the critter who tagged along behind Geoff on Verdia from the bay entrance all the way to the point Geoff dropped his hook near us. Michael and I watched it sling its tail around Verdia's chain, then slither past before meandering up among the rocks. We did not go climbing.

San Carlos to Bahia Concepcion

2010-04-05T21:17:00.002-06:00

Easter Sunday
Maybe the Lord wanted to bless my mama. Maybe He just decided we'd had enough miserable crossings. I know not, but the day fulfilled every promise of new beginnings that came to the world through Resurrection Sunday, the celebration of new life through the atoning death of our Lord.
Michael and I rose at three in the morning to prepare for departure. By four, Sea Venture was pointed out of Bahia San Carlos and across the sea. The moon was at half-mast, bright enough to light our way out of the bay. The seas had calmed from their rowdy state of several days earlier. This was to be one of only two opportunities to cross this week. I'm glad we chose it.
I climbed back in bed. Michael, the darling, kept the first watch. By six, I'd roused enough to fix breakfast; Mama climbed from her bunk shortly thereafter. We had a leisurely crossing, motorsailing under genoa and mizzen in the light breeze that climbed steadily as we neared the center of the sea. It came from about 170 degrees. We were aiming our nose at 202 degrees. Without the engine's assistance, we would not have been able to point that high. As it was, the light-air genoa bumped our speed up to over 8 knots, 7 over ground.
About 20 miles out from the Baja side, the wildlife appeared. Whale spouts and tails graced the horizon both ahead and behind us. Then an odd thing happened, something we've not seen before. We noticed a set of breakers about a mile off shore, a mile or two from us. Puzzled, we peered through the binoculars. The waves had tails; the waves leapt. It seems that dolphins had formed a line several miles long and were herding prey, having a feeding frenzy. We'd seen them in clusters before, but never in a long line. As we neared, the line surrounded us, circling to the port and starboard. Some cavorted near the boat, leaping and dancing. Some we distracted so that they played next to us before reforming and going after dinner.
'Twas an amazing sight.
Now we are in Bahia Concepcion. Last night we anchored in Santispac; today we've moved next door because a norther should arrive by morning, and it's more protected here. We've met new friends and found old ones from San Carlos. The cruising community is like that, paths crossing again and again. We dined at Ana's Restaurant on beef and chicken tacos. Russ, the owner with his wife, Ana, put on a good feed. He helped us and our friends from Genesis last July. It seems to be his calling: helping cruisers.
We'll see what happens next, but Mama is having a grand time. She's a good sailor and a lot of fun. I told her that we're aiming to keep her young this way.

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In Guaymas and back to San Carlos

2010-04-03T14:21:00.000-07:00

We flew in to Guaymas on the 25th with Mama in tow and spent a delightful week shopping, seeing a doctor -- love Mexican doctors! -- walking the streets, and eating at Poncho Villa's Cantina.

The first picture shows our dock guard keeping watch. We could walk almost to his side before he would lift off. In the next photograph, Mama lounges in the cockpit as we motor from Guaymas to Bahia San Carlos. Wind blew from the south as we left Marina Singlar so we imagined a nice reach north. Nope. By the time we had exited the Guaymas area, we found a windless sea filled with swells that lifted us in an ungainly fashion. We hoisted the mizzen to help cut down on the roll, but it was not a stellar moment in SV's sailing history. Still, five hours later we dropped the hook in the beautiful bay, glad to be back until we realized that the swell was to be our companion through the afternoon and evening. Finally, the next day, the wind changed direction, cutting the swell, but keeping us boat-bound as it climbed into the 30s. M. barely noticed as he kept to his bunk with a stomach virus.

Today is glorious. We launched the dinghy, whose newly-applied and much-touted paint is a disaster -- we are hoping to get another season or two our of her before we're forced to sink capital in a new one -- and headed to shore. In the great blow of yesterday, we lost two fenders. (That's what happens when the Captain is ill and so has an understandable memory lapse. The Admiral failed to take up the slack because she didn't know there was one.) Someone else is obviously enjoying ownership of them as we could find no trace of either a bright blue Taylor-made one or the older yellowish and very hefty one that came with the boat. Losses aside, we enjoyed the ride and the scone-muffin purchases at Baracuda Bob's. Mama, of course, assuaged her hunger with mango-vanilla ice cream. La Paz and mango sorbet, here we come!

I apologize again

2010-02-24T08:26:00.001-07:00

For all those who got spammed with 30+ emails from this account, I apologize. Again. It seems that when I went in -- with a new password -- to set up email posting so I could send things from our SSB at sea, it enabled whatever/whoever to spam post to this account. I just went in and deleted them. Again.

Facebook Update

2010-02-15T14:59:00.000-07:00

Okay. All right. I concede. It's victory to those who pushed me to join Facebook. Even with all of the hassles, the stolen blog, the email invitations to all and sundry and my subsequent embarrassment, I now admit that I'm having fun connecting with friends I haven't heard from in years.

So, to my agent, Terry Burns, thank you. I say it publicly, you were right to spur me on to join. It's way too easy to sit back on the boat and write my stories and feel contentment because the sky is almost always blue, the sun shines ninety percent of the time, the people are friendly, and the doctors still care more about their patients than about their non-existent Mercedes. Most importantly, the Lord my God, the Almighty reigns. Always.

Sometimes, though, He wants us to slip out of our comfort zones. Joining Facebook was uncomfortable for me. Still, there I am. And I'm having fun.

Thank You, Lord, for EARPLUGS

2010-02-15T08:38:00.000-07:00

We're surviving Carnival thanks to earplugs. With these in, a pillow over my head, the Hella fan on high, and all the hatches and windows closed, we find we can sleep through the worst of it. Though last nigh, Michael (who eschews the pillow over his head routine) woke to what he said was quality music. Too bad it was at 1 AM. He finally took his earplugs out at 1:30 so that he could listen, and then stayed up for an hour. I'm not at all sorry to have missed the program, thank you very much.

Today, it's back to the dermatologist for a mole removal in a sensitive spot. Oh, well, this too shall pass.

Carnival in Guaymas

2010-02-11T18:34:00.004-07:00

Today is the beginning of Carnival. As a prelude, the carnival with rides arrived just after we did. I must say, as I watched the folk going up in the needle and then dropping rapidly to base, my heart stopped. We watched them set up the things; you couldn't have paid me enough to ride on it.

The loud music is supposed to begin tonight. Ah, me. A fan as white noise? A pillow over my head? Hmmmm.... I may get a lot of work finished instead of a lot of sleep.

The picture above was taken a couple of evenings ago. That's from our deck, about 100 yards from the carnival excitement. Tuesday a cruise ship came to port, so the fine restaurants put on a shrimp festival just up the Malecon from the carnival. For 25 pesos per ticket ($1.92) I could get a plate of shrimp fixed by one of these restaurants. Michael, my non-shrimp-eating husband, bought me four tickets. I found shrimp ceviche (incredible), and three other dishes, most of which I brought back to the boat (para llevar--to go--pronounced para yeebar) for lunch and then dinner. Wonderful.

Today I went for my final flouride treatment and Michael had a cavity filled. Let's see, that was $13 for three treatments, $38.46 for each of us to have our teeth cleaned, and another $38.46 for Michael's filling. We both saw the opthalmologist on Saturday for $30.76 each. I love Mexico. The oncology specialist in La Paz last year cost $47.60 for 1.5 hours of consultation along with an ultrasound. Living on Social Security also? Join us for your medical needs. The treatment is first rate. The doctors have time to talk to you. They smile and tell jokes -- usually. And if they don't speak English, they muddle through or have someone in the office who is bilingual. Thank you, Lord, for the blessings of Mexico.

Spam Postings

2010-02-11T13:16:00.000-07:00

I want to apologize to any of you who received spam postings from this blog. I recently signed up with Facebook on the advice of my literary agent. Somehow, they got hold of my entire email address book AND this blog. and sent invitations to everyone I'd ever written or done business with -- much to my chagrin.

I logged on here and found that I was now advertising watches. As the friend who notified me of this mess said, if they only gave us all their profit, that might work.

I'm not quite sure how to fix all of this, but I'm trying. Please be patient if it continues. Just let me know and then delete the email. I hate having to register and start all over again.

Blessings to everyone,
Normandie

In Guaymas Again

2010-02-01T18:08:00.001-07:00

Leaving Bahia San Carlos.

Kaisen, an 85', 90 ton, steel converted Army work boat owned by Hugh and Victoria, is in the foreground.

Heading to Guaymas into the rising sun.

We may regret this move to Guaymas. Granted, it lets me walk with friend Diane from Daydreamer. And we're closer to shops. And Michael can work on the dinghy while we're here -- the rubberized paint he wants to slather on that ancient PVC dinghy takes 7 days to cure, which we could not manage at anchor.

But, we forgot that Carnival is almost upon us. They are setting up roller coasters RIGHT NEXT to Sea Venture, who is on the end tie with a perfect view and perfect sound. I foresee earplugs in my future.

Oh, well. It should be an interesting experience. Mexico doesn't sleep during Carnival, which may mean we won't either. Diane said that if she and John are still here, they'll drive to the States for the duration. If only we'd set up our trip home for these days!

Tomorrow It's Back to Guaymas

2010-01-31T18:39:00.002-07:00

We said good-bye to folks in San Carlos Marina and here in the bahia today. Tomorrow morning we leave for Guaymas, where we'll go back to the Singlar Marina to ready for our trip to the States. We've dinghy projects and woodwork to finish, because when we return after taxes and visits home, we'll have Mama in tow again with plans to cross back to Baja.

Our friend Ken Osgood, on Lovely Rita, left the marina to head across to the Baja. Michael took this picture as he and his friend Eric were leaving.

2010-01-14T13:03:00.001-07:00

Friends took this picture of us at anchor here in Bahia San Carlos. Can you see why we're still here? Of course, this afternoon it's supposed to blow with a norther coming down the sea, but we'll just stay tucked in, doing an anchor watch at night with our GPS set to wake us if we go walkabout.

We've been having fun with all sorts of new friends, most of whom have recently bought boats here and are getting them set up for cruising south in the next few weeks. Ken on Lovely Rita, a Westsail 32, has proved delightful company as well as extremely generous with his automobile. Ken has sailed for years in the Caribbean, but is like a kid in a candy store with his beautiful little boat as he fixes it and dresses it for cruising. We stopped by to return his car key the other evening and found him listening to classical music, his small diesel heater toasting the cabin, a smile on his face of the purest enjoyment. We'll get pics when we can.

Darcy and Isabelle, Canadians from Victoria, bought Ideal I, a gorgeous Hans Christina, a modern-rigged Hans Christian. They sent pics of the Christmas brunch on their boat. They sailed out yesterday for points of call on the Baja.

Isabelle is the lovely lady with the huge smile in the red vest. Alan and Marisa (in Santa hats) have businesses here in San Carlos, he as a surveyor, she in boat sales. They also have a house and a large fishing boat. Cheryl and Peter, the other couple on board, hail from Australia and are old hands at cruising, having spent years on their former boat plying the waters of the Indian Ocean. Now they own Stolen Kiss, a lovely Hylas, for which we will eventually find photos. We've developed a rather symbiotic relationship with them as well: Michael has the tools and an occasional winch, they have a car loaned to them by Marisa. Good folk all. Cheryl will also get a note if my next Beaufort book sells as she allowed me to interview her about abused children, with whom she worked in Australia. Founts of knowledge found in fun places...

The Lighted Boat Parade

2009-12-26T16:44:00.000-07:00

Christmas Eve in Bahia San Carlos included a parade of lighted boats that went out of the bay and around the corner. We had a front-row seat and then went back into the warm boat to eat yummy food with our guests.

Feeding frenzy

2009-12-26T16:36:00.002-07:00

The birds have cottoned to us on Sea Venture. They figured out it's not only the pangas that drop goodies off their stern, but also this big old boat. Here are three Heerman's Gulls fighting for a morsel Michael tossed into the air.

More gulls.

Look at those eyes. These guys are intent on catching that dried bread!

Lunch time!

2009-11-28T11:52:00.002-07:00

We were sitting out in the cockpit, enjoying a leisurely lunch today when suddenly the motor boats/ fishing fleet decided to return en masse. Just before he dashed down to fetch his camera, Michael counted eleven boats entering the channel at the same time. The only other time we've seen such a group effort was in Santa Rosalia when all 150-plus pangas came blasting back into the harbor in one steady stream of loud motors as a chubasco (thunderstorm) approached.

This time, we figure these guys didn't have enough food or beverage on board. But all at once? We're just sorry we didn't have the camera on hand to record the start of the race.

Cockpit captain's chair and table

2009-11-28T10:13:00.001-07:00

Some folks on www.force50.org were interested in the captain's chair we installed after our boisterous trip south, so we're including one picture here and a link to all the others at the right. The line attached to the seat front is for our PFD tether that keeps us on board in the cockpit in bouncy seas. We have jacklines running the length of the boat, because the last thing either of us wants is to try to fetch the other from the sea.

The table is mounted using a pedestal seat flange that we bought at West Marine. It is offset so that it can be turned to provide easier access to the lazarettes. The pedestal base block is made of laminated Douglas fir planks, which gives a solid base, and it is through-bolted to the deck. Makes for a much more secure ride than sitting on the cockpit cushions.

You can see pictures of Mama and us taking turns sitting in it on the link showing her summer trip to visit Sea Venture.

The table is just temporary, made out of an old tray table we had on hand. As soon as Michael finds the proper wood and has the time, he'll make a prettier one. But with lots of other projects taking precedence, this may be a while in coming.

No hurry, eh, mates?

Bahia San Carlos

2009-11-25T13:50:00.002-07:00

With a view like that and with weather that gives us warmish days and cool nights, with a bay that's clean enough that we can make RO water when the tide's incoming, with work aplenty to keep both of us busy, how can we leave?

A number of boats filling the anchorage have taken off toward the south. Frankly, after the sweltering summer months, we're glad of a reprieve. We'll miss family for Thanksgiving, but we've friends who have invited us to sup with them, so it will still be a day of blessing.

As we look around us, we can't help but consider our entire life so full of God's glory that we daily give thanks and praise. How can we help it?

The best thing would be if one of you would like to come share some of this with us.

Sleepy Creek in flood

2009-09-18T07:58:00.005-06:00

Sleepy Creek is behaving oddly. The tide has been higher than normal during most of September, but now all the docks are under water and we have a new pond behind the house! We haven't had much rain for more than a week, but we do have depth, finally.

This is the backyard pond extending from the end of the harbor. It is normally marshland.

Here is Furnifold, Mama's rowboat, with her bowline tied at least a foot above the normal dock level. If you click on the picture to enlarge it, you'll see what I mean.

These show the dock in front of the old house, which is normally quite a bit above water, and the top of the steps leading down to the water on its other side.

A Link to San Carlos Clean-up

2009-09-09T07:28:00.003-06:00

The following link will take you to Kiki Grossman's blog to see some great pictures of how well the folk there are doing in the post-Jimena clean-up. Michael has been hugely impressed.
http://www.marinasancarlos.com/blog/

The Hurricane in San Carlos

2009-09-07T13:59:00.009-06:00

It's Senor J. Salas's fault. He stood in the Marina Seca office and said they needed rain. "Don't worry about the wind. It won't be much. But if we don't get rain, things will be bad around here."

They got rain. And things are very bad around there.

We weren't there for the downpour, but Michael drove back to San Carlos after seeing me off for a visit to son Joshua in San Antonio and then home to Sleepy Creek. Friday night he found the road out and had to sleep in the rental car. By Saturday morning, they'd fashioned a temporary detour that allowed him to get part way into town, then, finally, to the apartment we're renting until Sea Venture is in the water again.

There is still no showering/flushing water in San Carlos. The electricity finally came on yesterday, but it's sporadic. Not enough to run an air conditioner. Boats that were on moorings are now up on the beach. And Marina Seca is a mess.

Here are some photographs that tell the story. Fortunately, Sea Venture was on a trailer and stands, but with rain that didn't stop for 36 hours and dropped 21 inches on land that couldn't handle it, the mudslides and mess were inevitable. Michael reports that the Marina Seca folk are working non-stop to get things back together. The gate and guard house washed away, but patrols are keeping those who don't belong at bay; they won't even allow Michael to drive in to pump out SV and to dry her innards. He slogs through the mud twice a day, trying to pump the bilges on a boat that sits bow down, trying to dry the mattress and keep mold from growing. The marina office flooded, drowning computers. Boats on trailers slipped and slid into each other, but they've just about gotten these straightened and back in place. They say that none were structurally damaged, which has to be good news for the owners. The marina folk are pumping water out of boats. It will be a long time before they get to Sea Venture's decks and rudder. Mud swallows feet and shoes for bootless folk roaming the area. And they say it may be weeks before running water is restored. Pray, please, that it doesn't rain any more so that all these boats can dry out.

If we'd been in the water, our generator would keep Sea Venture drained and cool. Bad timing. Really bad timing. I suppose the Marina Seca folk couldn't imagine this happening, but I wish they had. At least they kept SV on the trailer so she didn't slip away. Only her dinghies did. We don't yet know how much damage they sustained.

I will be on the East Coast longer than planned, obviously. But poor Michael is there, coping. Being the MAN.

Boarding Ladder

2009-08-27T16:38:00.007-06:00

We had these constructed while in Mazatlan, but now a friend wants to see them, so I'm posing the pics here. It's a great ladder, especially the seat that opens when it is fully extended, allowing us old folk to climb out of the water easily. It's a great place to sit to cool off on a hot day or to take off fins and masks before getting on the boat. Our friends on Daydreamer had one without the seat, a smaller version which Michael used as the genesis for this project design.

The first picture shows me lowering the steps. They can be lowered with one extension, which works for boarding from the dinghy or dock. With two extensions down, they go about 18 inches into the water, and completely opened, have the seat that you can see in the following picture, taken in Aqua Verde when Michael was cleaning the hull. That blue tube floating in the water is his hookah breathing hose.

For additional pictures of the ladder, see link to the right.

View of Guaymas and Friend

2009-08-27T16:20:00.006-06:00

I love herons. This fellow landed on a neighboring boat and soon decided he didn't like the view, so he turned around where he could watch the bay instead of the boat's windows. (Pictures loaded backwards.)

Michael's been spending a lot of time aloft recently, trying to deal with the Raymarine masthead wind transducer, the second of these to go south. This one didn't like the 50+ knots of wind it encountered off Isla Ceralvo back in May. Poorly made, it broke off and was hanging by I'm not sure what. He glued the broken pieces together for use until the back-ordered replacement arrives. On one of his trips, he took this picture of the cathedral in Guaymas.

Guaymas

2009-08-14T14:49:00.004-06:00

We motored over to the Singlar Marina in Guaymas yesterday in the early hours before the wind piped up. It's hard to maneuver this old girl into a slip with cross winds. We're now moored next to our friends' boat, Thea Renee, whose occupants are at the moment enjoying their backyard pool and air conditioned house in California. We decided to enter a marina because Jesus, from Marina Seca, warned that the Chubascos coming in to Bahia San Carlos can hit 80 knots of wind and Sea Venture sat at anchor in the direct path of storm surge. We'd had no other choice there as smaller boats were moored all over the anchorage. Marina San Carlos offered us a more expensive slip on at outside tie, also in the way of the surge. We opted to wait for haul-out in Guaymas, perhaps not as picturesque as San Carlos, but within bus distance of stores and walking distance of restaurants. Hopefully, we'll search out an ice cream store this evening.

This morning, Michael took the photos of an osprey atop a neighbor's mast.

Isla San Marcos to San Carlos

2009-08-12T17:42:00.010-06:00

These are the caves at the northwestern end of Isla San Marcos on Los Arcos. We snorkeled in the lee of the rocks. Lovely. As if we had our own aquarium of brightly colored fish.

Now we're in San Carlos. As Michael says, we've circumnavigated the Sea of Cortez. We left San Carlos in July of 2004 and we returned two days ago after almost five years of being in California or other Mexican waters. It's changed. We were surprised by the number of new waterfront homes built just north of Bahia San Carlos. We couldn't get close enough to see them, but we did take pictures of the lovely homes surrounding Bahia San Carlos.

We left Isla San Marcos at 3:45 AM, Sunday, with promises from the weather gurus of flat seas and 10-15 knots of breeze. Sweet Pea Cove was quiet in the early morning hours. We didn't want to bother with the mizzen cover in the dark, so we navigated by radar out and around. As soon as we cleared the north end of the island, the waves and wind hit us. Friends who left the day before had spoken to us on the Amigo Net and mentioned 6-8 foot seas at 10 second intervals, which would make them manageable. What we saw were 4-6 feet and 3-4 second intervals. Sloppy, choppy, and rolly...all the way across, mostly on the beam. We never could get that mizzen cover off; it would have been too dangerous in those seas, so we opened up the staysail and wasted more diesel. Thirteen hours later, we entered Bahia San Carlos, exhausted, but glad to be back.

The anchorage is crowded with boats on moorings and a few at anchor. Very few are occupied, which is why Michael kept watch last night when a chubasco came through with its high winds, driving rain, and thunder. He turned on the motor during the fiercest wind, keeping the boat pointed into it and watching for strays. That's the thing we worry about most in a anchorage. A boat that drags can run into us or uproot our anchor if it crosses our rode. With our 120 lb Spade and 250 feet of chain out, we weren't likely to drag unless some other force took over.

The fellows from Marina Seca came out yesterday. They'll fix our nonskid and do a few other chores needed on Sea Venture. Good men to stand by their work. But they can't start until the beginning of September, so we're moving tomorrow to Guaymas, to the Singlar Marina there. We like the Singlar/Fonatur marinas that line the Sea of Cortez. Each one is exactly alike: the same tower structure for offices, the same well built and maintained docks, the same pool/laundry/bath facilities. They always have a small tienda, and usually a nice restaurant on site. Our friends from Thea Renee have left their boat in Guaymas for the summer. It will be fun to see Erwin when he comes next week to check on the boat.

Iglesia Santa Barbara de Santa Rosalia

2009-08-02T16:36:00.004-06:00

What a lovely service. A breeze wafted in the windows, but with the humidity approaching 100%, sweat drenched everything. Still, the music was enthusiastic, and the priest really got into his message. From what I could gather based on my limited Spanish/Italian, he spoke of not putting off a relationship with God. At one point, he discussed how short a time it really is between birth and death, and one fellow piped up with, "un ora!" An hour. The whole congregation laughed. The priest encouraged everyone to repent of the idle life of doing what feels good, and instead, to consider life eternal and a relationship with Jesus. A good word.

Note that the church was designed by Gustave Eiffel, of Parisian tower fame.

Santa Rosalia -- hot dogs and parties

2009-08-01T14:51:00.008-06:00

We toured the town yesterday. Faye, Ken, and Michael scarfed down a few of the famous bacon-wrapped, coated-with-everything hot dogs at Chuyitas Hot Dog stand (open only after 6:30 PM, too late for me to pollute my insides with indigestibles), while I feasted instead on mango sorbet. At the church nearby, a family celebrated their daughter's quinceañera, or coming of age ceremony held on a girl's fifteenth birthday. According to Wikipedia, "The term Quinceaños refers to the birthday of the celebrant, and the term Quinceañera refers to the celebrant herself. Like many other coming-of-age ceremonies, the Quinceaños is associated with the Quinceañera 'becoming a lady.'" By the time we'd eaten, walked all over town, and returned by way of the church, the service was still going strong, with songs thanking God for the young lady and for all His blessings. We plan to attend there tomorrow, our first Mexican Catholic service.

Aqua Verde to Santa Rosalia

2009-07-30T15:57:00.019-06:00

It's been a while since I last had enough bandwidth and/or time to post anything. The photos above show the lovely water at Aqua Verde again, where Michael is cleaning the hull. He used the hookah he's built, while I tackled the waterline using my snorkel.

We left Aqua Verde on July 1 and sailed north to Puerto Escondito, where we spent the next ten days on a mooring buoy, renting a car to drive into Loreto to restock the boat and get a liter of mango sorbet. Fireworks on the fourth at a small community of gringos just around the headland in a place called Juncalito were very well done. The restaurant at Escondito provided internet connection, but one had to buy something to use it, which didn't help the pocketbook. Following is a picture of a heron who had been keeping an eye on the water from this power boat's swimstep until we inched closer in our dinghy. In the July pictures linked to the right, you'll see him as he took flight.

On the tenth, we headed to Puerto Ballandra on Isla Carmen, a lovely island about 8 miles east of Loreto, which we visited on Saturday. Here's a picture of Sea Venture anchored off the town. Not a good spot for overnighting, as there's no protection, but it works well for a day trip. That's Isla Carmen in the background.

I really wanted to revisit a small anchorage called La Lancha. on the north side of the island that had wonderful snorkeling. Instead of clear skies, we woke to storm clouds. Michael checked the radar and saw several cells moving in our direction. These morphed into a full-scale chubasco, with slamming rain and forty-five knots of wind. He fired up the engine and motored into the waves just to keep the tension off the anchor rode. Not much fun. Afterward, we decided to return to the protection of Ballandra and spent a lovely week on the hook, playing dominoes with our friends Faye and Ken Husch from the trawler Genesis. I kayaked with Faye, and the four of us took the dinghies out to jig for bottom fish. I snagged a series of rocks and lost most of my bait. They pulled in several trigger fish. Oh, well.

Successful fishermen, Ken and Faye.

Here, Faye and Ken teach us to play Mexican Train Dominoes. We've been having a great time in the cool of the boat, trying to beat them. Rarely have I seen folk who are as good with numbers. They put my poor brain to shame.

Following is a picture of the night fish that hovered near the boat in Ballandra. They did not make me want to swim after dark.

Both Genesis and Sea Venture needed a new supply of fresh veggies, which are in short supply except at the Sunday market in Loreto. This is a picture of the inside of a surprise find, a luxury hotel in the middle of town.

After overnighting in a beautiful anchorage off Isla Coronado, we motorsailed north to Caleta San Juanico, which Ken, whose boat always arrives first (two 120 Ford Lehman's to our one 90 hp, to which we added the big genoa for an hour of wind), said was much too exposed. The more secluded anchorage of La Ramada already had several boats in it and wouldn't hold us both. We ended up sending Genesis to La Ramada, while Michael and I tucked into the northeastern-most cove in San Juanico.

Michael surveyed the area in his dinghy with the portable depth sounder to determine if we'd hit bottom when the wind changed direction -- it ALWAYS changes direction -- and we circled our anchor with 125 feet of chain out. I jumped in the water and swam to the rocks for some glorious snorkeling. The water was clear, the fish abundant. M. returned to the boat to report that we had clear room all the way around...except in one little spot that would be close. Perhaps the wind wouldn't turn us that way.

The anchor alarm went off as the wind veered around in the wee hours. The moon was barely visible, but we watched the walls of rock loom off our stern. The depth sounder showed 10 feet under the keel, then, slowly, 9 feet, 8, 7, 6,5,4,until it settled out at 3.4 before slipping further into the circle and finding 6.5 again.

As beautiful as the anchorage was, it wasn't comfortable enough. As soon as Ken announced that La Ramada, around the headland, was emptying, we started the engine and drove to join them. La Ramada is one of my favorite spots, with some of the best snorkeling yet. M and I both swam to the rocks and snorkeled, watching the interaction of large and small fish, a largish black on snapping at Sergeant Majors to protect his territory. Great fun.

That is a picture of La Ramada as we sailed north, heading to Bahia Concepcion, an anchorage that left us sweating and very uncomfortable. We'd heard rumors of high temperatures; they weren't lying. While Michael recovered from heat or something fever-inducing, Faye, Ken, and I caught a ride into Mulege with an ex-pat gringo named Russ who owns Ana's Restaurant in Playa Santispac. Mulege is one of the sweetest little towns I've seen in Mexico. I wish we could visit again, but one can't sail there, and the river doesn't look like a pleasant dinghy ride.

We motored out of Concepcion and raised only the mizzen and staysail when we discovered the large whitecaps and hefty wind blowing off our stern quarter. It was a rocky ride around Isla San Marcos to meet Genesis at Sweet Pea Cove. What a place for sea life! I hope Michael took more than videos of the rays and whales. If so, I'll post them later. We spent only two days there before heading across to Santa Rosalia. We'll be here for a week, so more internet work later.

Anchoring in Bahia Aqua Verde

2009-07-06T17:42:00.003-06:00

Here is how clear the water was in Aqua verde. That's the anchor buoy on top of the water and the anchor down 26.5 feet. Lovely snorkeling, lovely swimming.

La Fuente: The BEST Ice Cream in the world

2009-06-16T18:51:00.004-06:00

Mama, Michael, and I agree, the ice cream at La Fuente, on the Malecon in La Paz, has to be some of the best we've ever eaten, probably because it's made right on site. We took a quart of mango sorbet with us when we went to the islands for the second time, but we ate the last scoop two days before we returned to the city. We decided we had to have one last cone before driving Mama to Cabo and her flight home. Here she enjoys a scoop of banana and one of mango -- her favorite combination. Can you believe she ate the WHOLE thing? Not bad for 81 years. I just hope I'm as agile and excited about life when I'm her age. Go, Mama!

Lovely bird, lovely water

2009-06-16T14:05:00.008-06:00

We stopped in Caleta Partida, a bay between Isla Partida and Isla Espiritu Santo, on our way back to La Paz for a quick medical visit and then for the last week of Mama's visit. It offers the most protection from the nightly corumuels, besides being quite lovely. Boats came and went while we snorkeled, ate well (including two red snapper we traded for two flashlight batteries and a gallon of gasoline), read, and marveled at the clarity of the water. Snaking between sand bars in the dinghy, we found perfect snorkeling on the Sea of Cortez side of the islands. I saw a Reef Cornetfish, a surprise find, as well as a small octopus. Beautiful black, yellow, and blue Cortez Angelfish, schools of Panamic Sergeant Majors, shy Damselfish, including the gorgeous juvenile Giant Damselfish with their iridescent blue spots, abounded near the rocks. We didn't want to leave.

On the trip back to the boat, we caught sight of a blue heron and took several pictures, including the one here. Check out the other lovely photos of our trip on the link to the right: Mama's 2009 Visit to Sea Venture.

Sunset, June 10, looking out the anchorage. And following, Michael getting ready to clean the barnacles from SV's bottom. His homemade hookah works wonderfully. Gloves, scrapers, and he'll be set.

Ella spies out the land

2009-06-06T20:38:00.010-06:00

Mama’s trip on Sea Venture:

We motored out of La Paz harbor on Tuesday, May 26, as soon as the wind had died enough to assure easy access to the fuel dock. We made an appointment at Marina Costa Baja for noonish. Slipping between anchored boats, passing into the channel to cross the bar, turning toward the harbor entrance, gliding past the Malecon, past Marina Palmira, we arrived at the entrance to Costa Baja only to see two huge motor yachts already there. Michael called the dock. “Two hours, senor,” the fellow said. Obviously, boats needing several hundred gallons rated above our measly need for 100.

Palmira’s gracious crew said they could serve us. We turned and headed back. At the entrance, Erwin from Thea Renee greeted us in his dinghy. A small boat was just finishing; Michael slowed us to a crawl, bringing us into the dock just as the small boat left. One hundred and ten gallons later, we edged out, helped by Erwin’s dinghy tug service when the north wind tried to push Sea Venture’s nose in the wrong direction.

And we were off. The wind was light, but we hoisted a few sails and played around in Bahia de la Paz, having decided to take our chances in Bahia Falsa for the night, even though a good sized corumuel was predicted. (Just for interest: Corumuel’s were named after a British fellow named Cromwell, whom nobody liked, it seems. Corumuel was the closest the locals could get to pronouncing his name.)

Bad choice of anchorage. We closed in on the southeast corner, hoping for some protection when the nightly winds blew. Instead, waves slapped the hull, and Sea Venture danced. I worried that Mama wouldn’t sleep. We had the anchor watch on, so whenever one of us got up, we could look at the screen and see just where we were in relation to our anchor and a rocky lee shore. She bucked, but didn’t budge from above the well set 120-lb Spade.

The next morning we decided to hoof it north to San Evaristo, about 40 nautical miles away, or 51 nautical miles from La Paz. This is the first anchorage on the mainland side, the first that would offer protection from the winds. It meant bypassing the islands, but we needed the rest. Motorsailing most of the way, we arrived around 6 that evening to find the best spots already taken. The swells rocked us, but we had no breaking waves. By ten the next morning our neighbors had left. We tucked in behind the eastern cape where the water was calm and the living good.

We watched birds in the cool of the morning, pelicans plopping, gulls swooping at tossed morsels. In the afternoon, Michael ferried us in to shore so we could walk and check out the activity. Pangas sped in and out of the bay, bringing their catch for the markets. We came across a lovely young man in the process of filleting a yellow-fin. He sold us a quarter of it for whatever we wanted to pay. Sixty pesos? He nodded. That was probably more than he would have gotten for it at market.

We barbecued the tuna. Mama pan fried some jumbo shrimp I’d bought in Mazatlan and frozen. The fresh green beans were a tad tough, so we boiled them in broth with onions. Baked beans rounded off the meal, with English muffins for corralling the food.

Boats arrived to tuck in out of the wind. A lovely little ketch and a big ugly white one. A 25-footer that must have been shoal draft or equipped with a centerboard slipped in just under the cape. Lastly came a big power boat that nosed in to our port side and dropped a few feet of chain. Michael glared, imagining us and our 100+ feet bouncing off his side in the middle of the night. Fortunately we continued to swing in the other direction..

Now the beast has gone. We’ve breakfasted. Mama’s about to have her morning latte. Michael is trying to fix another pump. This afternoon we plan a little snorkeling. Maybe some dinghy sailing.

May 31, Mama and I sail Sea Venture's Number 2 dinghy. Barely any wind, but she scooted along nicely as we checked out the anchorage. Two sets of white legs, but mine were covered with sunscreen. Mama said she was fine. She goofed.

Isla San Francisco, June 1, 2009

We've moved across and south to Isla San Francisco. This is the beginning of a smashing sunset. Picture the daylight scene on June 2: aft of us, a sandy beach; across the channel and rising out of the sea, mountains that have been pressed and sliced for centuries into striations of rose and mauve, grey and tan, then decorated with clumps of moss green; a rocky shore nearby with cutout cliffs echoing the mountain colors; and below Sea Venture, twenty feet of blue that melds into azure closer to shore…. It’s like glass now at 11:29 AM. During breakfast, we watched a procession of boats head north through the San Jose Channel from Bahia de la Paz. Behind us, two boats have left the anchorage, one heading north, one back to La Paz. Sea lions bark from rock islands at the channel edge. Gulls, frigate birds, and pelicans cavort around us.

Michael has the floorboards up. He has already made labels for his sight glass so we now know how many gallons remain in the water tank without having to look up the conversion. He cleaned the water filter for the refrigerator, which he had defrosted two days ago. Good man. Now he’s messing with what looking like the oil filter on the main engine. He says there’s very slight oil leak, so he’s fixing that. Then he says he’ll raise the filter slightly so it doesn’t interfere with the hoses. Clever man. Oh, yes, and the paddle wheel needs cleaning. Things grow down there faster than one can blink.

Today is a projects day. I think. I’m planning – though who knows what will happen -- to use up some of our nice water to douse the decks and wash windows. Perhaps do laundry. Then read. Mama is napping after having had her morning latte. Soon it will be lunch time. We took the dinghy out to investigate the neighborhood last night. Glorious water. If we feel like it, we may snorkel this afternoon. Or put out the fishing rod.

Tough life.

La Paz again

2009-04-29T10:40:00.008-06:00

We're anchored in Ensenada de la Paz, off the Magote, which is a peninsula protecting the harbor area from the more open Bahia de la Paz. The anchorage is subject to a hefty current flow, which often acts counter to the winds. Evening corumels blow through here and provide cool nights. The resultant dance is called The La Paz Waltz,in which boats gyrate with either the current or the wind -- or a combination of both. We're fortunate to have a 120 lb. Spade anchor and lots of heavy chain, and have our anchor bouyed, letting us see where the boat sits in relation to it, sometimes in front, sometimes at the stern, usually to port or starboard.

We spent our first week at Marina Palmira as we debated the various anchorage options. Lucy the Goose, a Palmira refugee and now guard goose, entertained us. We had some lovely times with our buddy boat's owners, Phyllis and Erwin, especially the evening spent watching the two of them play pool with another boater. Erwin is a master at the game, though Phyllis looked really professional with that cue in her gloved hand. I can't imagine being able to announce that your ball is going to hit five various points before it scoots its object into a pocket -- and have your announcement result in performance. Amazing.

Marinas offer fun things to do, but anchorages give us the opportunity to keep cash in our pockets while we stay cool and independent. Our solar panels are performing beautifully. The solar shower delivers lots of hot water: I learned last night that one doesn't use it until the water has had an hour or so of dark to cool down. I, who love hot showers, had to mix it with cold from the boat's tank via the shower head so as not to scald myself. Of course, if one waits too long, one has the opposite experience. Michael likes a cool shower: he experienced cold.

The dinghy is now our means of local transportation. We tie up cheek by jowl with other dinghies at Marina de la Paz's dinghy dock for the princely sum of 15 pesos, which at 13 to one is just slightly more than a dollar a day. From there, it's about eleven blocks to the CCC, the closest grocery store. Parts suppliers are all within easy walking distance, and Club Cruceros, right at the marina, provides the lending library of choice.

Sunday found us heading out into Bahia de la Paz to make water and wash clothes. A few miles offshore we parked the boat with the wheel hard over, intending to drift. Well, we did drift, with the current, slightly, but we were obviously hove-to, as we created a lovely slick on the water to windward when the afternoon breeze piped up. We made over 125 gallons and washed four loads. Wonderful dry air cut the drying time to minutes.... We had intended to listen to a podcast sermon while out there, but the generator's noise (needed to run the high-output watermaker) precluded this. Instead we had a worship service of praise for the glorious creation and then heard a sermon once we returned to the anchorage, where another sunset accentuated our desire to give thanks where thanks are definitely due.

If it weren't for the flu scare, we'd be thrilled with life. Yesterday's trip to the market showed closed schools and face masks everywhere. There haven't been any confirmed cases here in Baja, but that doesn't mean folk aren't sick. We're not eating out these days, which is probably healthier anyway. Considering that the virus seems to have jumped borders and oceans, I'd suggest everyone take care.

Do check our pictures on the link at the side. I've never seen so many gorgeous sunsets and we haven't even been here a month.

More Thoughts on Mexico

2009-04-14T19:47:00.001-06:00

From our first months in Ensenada we noticed it. And from frequent trips across the border, we noticed the lack of it.

Happiness. Contentment, in spite of life lived with less than the average American would consider a sustenance wage. Choices made to honor family, to delight in children, to honor whatever faith they know. Choices made to be content with what they have.

Smiles handed with impunity to strangers. Offers of help without a price tag attached.

And once we escaped the gringo influence in certain boatyards, a work ethic to be admired. In Mazatlan, the Mexican mechanics who repaired our engine did so with an eye to excellence and a care of our boat that couldn’t help but please. The gentlemen who did stainless work for us took obvious pride in their design efforts and seemed embarrassed to request additional funds for changes and extras we requested. The workmen spent a hot day adjusting, fitting, welding…all the while joking and laughing together and with us. The young sons of the man who worked on removing old varnish from the boat spent hot afternoons teasing one another, full of joy. The owner of a car parts shop joked with Michael as he searched to meet our needs. All smiles. Very little capital changing hands. Taxi drivers in Ensenada gave way to pedestrians or other drivers and smiled when they did it. Across the border everyone scowled.

I know there are problems. There are dinghies that go missing from anchorages. We’ve been warned about the one we’re in right now. But what we saw this morning was a family in their motorless panga that they maneuvered with one paddle, line fishing probably because they don’t own rods or nets. And they were laughing and playing as they did it. If they live in the shack by the water’s edge that we’ve noticed, they probably were fishing for their food. But they were laughing. Happy. The impulse might come to avail themselves of some rich gringo’s dinghy. It might. To them it would be worth almost a year’s wages. So, we keep our dinghy on deck. In the States, there were areas near our marina where we might fear for our lives. We’ve never felt that in Mexico.

Perhaps if we lived in Tijuana or one of the other border towns where drugs abound, it would be different. Why do problems exist there more than in, say, Mazatlan or Ensenada? Could it be that the market for the drugs, the US, is just across the way? Which makes one wonder if the problem is them or us. Why do we make such an issue of drug areas in Mexico and ignore the blight in our own cities?

Just a thought or two.

Bahia Falsa

2009-04-14T19:46:00.005-06:00

Bahia Falsa
4/12/09
Easter Sunday
He Is Risen!!!

Cacti silhouette the hills’ edge. Silence, except for the distant drone of traffic on the road into La Paz and the laughing folk in a panga nearby, graces the sunlit day. Sea Venture turns on her anchor, the scenery changing with the breeze.

We’re so glad to be at anchor again, away from near-neighbors at the marina. We’ve loved making friends, some for a lifetime, at each marina home, but our spirits crave this aloneness where God’s nature becomes so evident in His creation.

Church this morning was a sermon downloaded from Smyrna PHC entitled, “A Penny for Your Thoughts,” taken from Psalm 40:17: “…I am afflicted and needy, Yet the Lord is mindful of me.”

God hasn’t forgotten us, no matter what it looks like ‘round about. His thoughts are on me. And on you. Whether or not you know Him, His thoughts are on you, for you, calling and drawing you. When we feel afflicted enough and needy, unable to conquer the world on our own, unable to fix what’s wrong in our life, unable to sustain joy without some outside aid, then we can call on Him and know He will answer. Even if you think you’ve tried to call before, if you imagine you’ve heard only silence in the air, it may be because you weren’t ready. Because His thoughts for you are for good. Always. He has promised that joy comes in the morning. When the storm rages and the wind blows at 50 knots, it may seem as if all of nature is conspiring to batter you, and that the Lord is silent.

I’ve wondered why faith comes so easily to some and why others of us have to work at it. Why we go through so much of our life straining at bonds, thinking ourselves smarter or more sophisticated, thinking we need nothing more than we can find on our own. Until that moment—or moments—when all our striving turns to ashes, when our health or our wealth or our relationships aren’t sustainable through our efforts, when we finally recognize that we’re not sovereign after all. I suppose that’s the moment when we’re ready to admit that there must be more and that we are needy enough to ask and receive the more God has just been waiting to give us.

We’re listening to Marcos Witt sing “Gracias,” one of the most beautiful renditions of a Latin worship song I’ve ever heard. Gracias Senor for this place, this life, for all the riches of love. For holding me in Your thoughts, in spite of myself, in spite of what I’ve done or been, in spite of my lack of faith when it’s blowing 50, in spite of the times I’ve run or fainted. Gracias, mi Senor, mi Dios, Jesus Cristo, who died and rose again for me and for you and for all who will call on His Name.

A Mess at Sea

2009-04-14T19:36:00.012-06:00

Thea Renee buddy boated with us across from Mazatlan. Here she is to starboard in the last rays of Friday's windless day, her owners unaware as we were that in less than an hour these placid moments would become a vague memory as they struggled to keep her dinghy from breaking loose and sinking into the great, dark oblivion.

Sunset on the Sea of Cortez. Beautiful,with no hint of what was to come.

That's what the weather was like at 6PM Friday, Land ho! on the Baja side. By 7 PM, we weren't in a position to take a picture of anything. See that spit of land? All we wanted to do was get around Isla Cerralvo so we could head in the direction of the Canal de San Lorenzo, perhaps with an overnight rest stop at Isla Espirito Santo. Instead, we stayed at about that same latitude and longitude all night long.

It’s one thing to be on the ocean, miles out, and have the wind at your stern, blowing you at a screeching speed toward your destination. The boat handles the huge waves, the autopilot does the work of keeping you on track and fiddling through the wind/wave gyrations. It’s a completely different thing to know you’re stalled in 35-50 knots of wind and pounding waves, the boat speed dipping to zero and only climbing just above 2.5 knots at its zenith. You’ll not outrun the gale, and the autopilot has a hard time keeping you in good position to the wind and waves.

We would have hove to if we’d had more warning and more sail up when the mess started. But the wind had played hooky all day, the sea had been mirror calm, and we were complacently motoring with only the mizzen flying to stabilize our trip. Michael had been doing a photo shoot with the big camera of our neighbor’s boat, Thea Renee, as she caught the last of the sun. Dark descended and a full moon slipped in to illuminate a sea that had grown suddenly raucous, with waves slamming against the hull as the wind flipped into high gear.

Before leaving, we’d downloaded grib files and weather reports. En route, we’d received weather reports via SSB radio. No one had mentioned winds higher than 20 or seas higher than 2 to 3 feet. No one had suggested a gale. Sure, one was expected in the northern sea on Sunday, not Friday night. And there was a slight chance of one of those southerly winds that like to mess with the La Paz area, but it would be a light one, blowing no more than 20. Southerly would have pushed us northwest to La Paz. Southerly would have been welcome.

Instead, winds slammed down on us when we were about 50 miles southeast of the channel into Bahia de la Paz. Out of the northwest, they were cold and brutal, giving us no chance to hoist the staysail to park our boat and ride it out. I suppose with more and stronger hands, we might have wrestled with sheets and backwinding, but we didn’t want to let those waves find our beam, which meant Michael had to concentrate on hand steering, while I became ornamental and worried.

I tried not to. I tried to let faith well up in me to give me peace. Eventually it came, but as a work in progress, I don’t get there without effort. I kept remembering the disciples in their rocking boat, and Jesus asking where their faith was. About the same place mine had gone, I’d guess. Still, at least it showed up eventually. And we got through the night, better able to handle things because there was moonlight. Michael was to thank the Lord many times for that illumination.

By daylight, the wind has fallen, blowing between 25 and 33. It continued to lessen. By the time we approached the entrance to the San Lorenzo channel, it was only in the lower twenties, and the waves were much more manageable. Just as the dawn approached, the waves had subsided to the point where the autopilot could take over so that Michael could rest while I kept watch.

It’s over now. We’ve slept and eaten and are anchored at Bahia Falsa, outside of La Paz. The force of pounding waves slamming into the bow pulpit smashed our beautiful new bow blanking as well as the through-bolted anchor lock downs. The only section left on board is a small half moon at the tip of the pulpit and one other small fragment toward the aft section. It’s a testament to the force of the water.

Lunch at Playa Mazatlan

2009-04-06T16:40:00.004-06:00

I thought I'd post a few more pictures taken at our latest day out, when we rewarded ourselves after having our skin zapped of funny things at the dermatologist. Poor Michael. He not only zapped the bad guys, but also got a sore on the top of his head.

The restaurant has placed posts about ten feet out from the tables, obviously to keep vendors at bay, but you can look down at the local merchants who ply the beaches. One woman, loaded with shawls, stopped. Really, they were lovely. By the time she'd unloaded the lot, I felt compelled to bargain with her. I came away with a lovely black shawl that has colorful dragonflies on it -- for 130 pesos, whichis close to eleven dollars at today's exchange rate.

In another picture you can see a parasailor coming in for a landing. The pangas take folk up, give them a quick 4-7 minute ride, then drop them off at the beach.

Dangerous place?

2009-03-29T07:28:00.003-07:00

News stateside is that Mexico holds extreme danger to us and other visitors. Between drug deals and shoot-outs, kidnappings and theft, one ought to hightail it back to the safety of the good old US of A.

Hmmm...

During our last year in Richmond, CA, there were 43+/- drive-by shootings that took place within a few miles of the marina. We know of no anglo who has been murdered here or experienced theft in Mazatlan, and the only items missing in Ensenada were two pairs of shoes Paul had left on Xanadu's deck. Fine, a dinghy was reported stolen at Bahia Santa Maria, but it was on a long leash and the fishermen there are very poor.

Drug issues exist in many places. But at least here we don't worry that someone will kill us just because they're having a bad day.

Xanadu's Crew

2009-03-28T14:58:00.002-07:00

Paul and Tamar and their boat Xanadu, and at Normandie's Birthday dinner at Playa Mazatlan. Also in the dinner picture is Erwin of s/v Thea Renee.

We became friends with Paul and Tamar in Ensenada, and they caught up with us here in Mazatlan. Check out Paul's videos at http://web.mac.com/pecahill/XANADU/Welcome.html

The Vagabond 47 Thea Renee

2009-03-28T14:44:00.003-07:00

Thea Renee's owners, Erwin and Phyllis, have lovingly cared for their beautiful boat, especially its gleaming, perfectly varnished teak. This picture captures them sailing through the anchorage at Stone Island, off Mazatlan, with their tanbark sails flying.

We're moving away from varnish and opting for the choice Paul and Tamar made on Xanadu. Paul had tried everything in his years as the owner of a boat with lots of lovely brightwork. Now he uses Semco, which allows the teak to retain its just-sanded look. Much, much easier on the application side. We'll see how it works on Sea Venture's miles of caprail. As I, Normandie, age, I need a less labor-intensive maintenance schedule. We took advantage of the low labor rates here in Mazatlan to get most of the varnish removed. The low rate meant the fellow did the work to his satisfaction, not ours, so we've had to resand all the hard-to-reach areas. We offered to pay more, but that meant harder work. Sorry, said he, as he pocketed his paltry fee and slunk away.

More Mazatlan

2009-03-28T14:21:00.003-07:00

Playa Mazatlan is a hotel on the Gold Coast, Zona Dorada, and is a lovely place to go for lunch or dinner. We had my (N's) birthday feast there: six people, drinks, appetizers, lobster for me, and all for about what you pay for two in the States.

The last picture is of the park in the center of the old city, surrounded by restaurants, near the opera house, a couple of blocks from the cathedral and central market.

Winter here is 70 to 80 degrees during the day, then cool nights so we can snuggle under blankets as we sleep. Perfect.

Mama's 81st B-Day Feast

2009-03-28T12:26:00.001-07:00

Harker's Island hush puppies, local shrimp and asparagus with a strawberry shortcake for dessert. My mother's almost 93-year-old brother Ecky came to celebrate with us, as did good friends, Susan and Grace.

We journeyed to Charleston to pick up my mother on the 3rd of March, leaving the boat in Mazatlan under the watchful eye of Phyllis and her husband Erwin of the Vagabond 47, Thea Renee. I'll post a picture of it later.

The barber

2008-12-26T09:06:00.003-07:00

Here are two pictures of my second haircut in Mazatlan, which took place on the dock between Sea Venture and the Beneteau next to us. The local barber, Luis, epitomizes the best of Mexico. He's courteous, friendly, always smiling, desiring to please, grateful for the business. His daughter does manicures and pedicures, and they travel to RV parks and marinas (and who knows where else) serving those who can afford them -- though for a pittance. Michael declined his services, as he has me to do the honors, but I have twice needed my ponytail trimmed. I sat on the dock on our small stool, donned a bib, handed over my comb, and showed him about how much to cut.

Luis chatted with me in Spanish; I struggled to get entire phrases past my lips, usually reverting to Italian instead. When he was satisfied, he turned to his bag, dug around a little. I thought he might be dragging out a hairdryer. I heard the buzz, then felt the vibration on my back, my neck, my shoulders, even my scalp.

For fifty pesos, or less than five dollars, I not only had my hair cut, but got a massage to go with it. That man got a hefty tip!!

Test Posting

2008-12-24T08:49:00.001-07:00

This is to test the distance posting for blogger.

Picture links added

2008-12-23T18:59:00.001-07:00

I've added some picture links to the right. Please be patient when you try to view them as Picassa seems to have difficulty with their focus. If you're patient, the pictures will ultimately become clear.

Marina Mazatlan

2008-12-21T12:52:00.003-07:00

Here are a few pictures we've taken at the marina. Very lovely, clean, open, friendly--quite different from the town, in which my olfactory sensors rebel. Still, the Mexicans are a delightful folk, so we're very glad to be here.

Still Crossing the Sea

2008-12-20T20:16:00.000-07:00

By Friday we were making minimal headway in very light wind and Friday night our boat speed read 00. We kept all sails up in hope that we could at least minimize the drift away from Mazatlan. Then, around midnight, the wind shifted, and though boat speed still read 00, gps speed, which is speed over ground, registered a whopping 1.3 knots. I was on watch, so I pointed us as close to north as I could and kept her moving at the snail's pace onward. By 6AM, we were 6.9 miles from port, but still drifting along at 1.5 to 2 knots. We had all four sails flying with preventers keeping the mizzen and main booms from dancing when in the light winds. A gorgeous day with the promise of landfall.

We were about two miles off the entrance to the jetty when the wind died completely. So near and yet so far. The marina manager, Elvira, had arranged a tow into the marina from the jetty entrance, but we had to get there. Having patched the dinghy in San Jose using 3M 5200 (as suggested by Jim Elvers) we had it to use. Michael lowered it over the side, we attached our 15 hp Johnson outboard, and then he tied the dinghy off to the starboard stern quarter and let it give us propulsion. By now the seas were almost flat, so I drove and he managed the dinghy, and we were able to get just inside the big island. Elvira promised the tow boat would be out soon.

Soon turned into almost two hours. We'd drift for a while, then Michael would start the outboard and I'd steer clear of shallows, then we'd drift and wait. He could climb off the dinghy and over the rails to get back on board and into shade. Lovely being so nimble and strong because he did that about six times.

Finally, the fishing boat arrived. According to the cruising guide, there was 12 feet of water all across the channel. The guide was mistaken even though it is a recent reissue and updated version. The driver didn’t mention the issue of draft. It was quite a shock when we came to a screeching halt, the tow rope jerked his boat around, and we leaned, leaned, turned, crunched, turned toward the wall of rock and breakers, while the radio from the tow boat remained silent. I motioned to the captain to veer away with us with us, to pull us out and not try to drag us through. Finally, he seemed to get the message and Sea Venture freed herself.

And this is why we have a full-keeled boat. A fin keel/spade rudder would have been hard pressed to have gotten out of that mess with no damage.

Across the Sea of Cortez

2008-12-20T19:50:00.006-07:00

Tuesday December 9:

Jim Elfers, Marina Manager at Puerto los Cabos (pictures above), suggested we head to Mazatlan for our engine repair—an easy reach, said he, while we’d have a terrible beat up the coast to La Paz with no engine. Okay. When weather predictions from three sources said we'd have 15-20 knots from the NW, slowing by Thursday/Friday, we decided to take off. Jim and a Mexican fellow towed us out on Tuesday at 4PM (waiting for light winds in the marina area so their small boat could maneuver us). We headed out on a close reach, which Jim had predicted, in about 20 knots of wind. No problem.

Except that a couple of hours later as we came out from the protection of the headland, things changed. We shortened sail as the seas mounted (they were supposed to be 1-2 meters. Un-unh. Three meters minimum, off our port quarter and slipping around to our beam when we weren't looking.) We saw sustained winds in the 30s and gusts in the 40s all night. Hold on Nellie! We decided to heave-to and rest as we realized we’d forgotten to take seasick meds and were not happy campers. Dumb. We'd taken medicine for the first two days after leaving Ensenada, but then hadn't needed any. I suppose five days in a marina had made our bodies forget and, boy, were they unhappy. We never actually lost food, only felt like it.

I can’t say we got much rest, though, not with those big square waves slapping and pitching us. Fortunately, that night was the last time we saw wind in the 40's. After that, it stayed between 25-35, so we just used the mizzen and jib. Still, with only two sails, we close reached at 5.5 knots. Sometime during that first day/night, we reread all the grib files and weather predictions just to see if we'd missed something. Nope. They were wrong. We would have happily waited a couple of days if anyone had mentioned big winds. We'd rather have a sail that takes an extra day or two and is comfortable than one that makes you wonder what on earth you're doing. Frankly, this was as bad if not worse than the trip way off the coast coming down from SF. At least by Thursday morning the winds had begun to drop and by evening the seas were more in the 1-2 meter range.

We were finally enjoying ourselves. We had about 12 hours to go at this rate, so we decided shorten sail again before dark and take it easy.

Fortunately with redundant systems in our pilothouse, the person on watch could check the radar on the computer from a prone position across the way (on our pilothouse settee) and then every hour or so stick a head up to look around outside. Much easier than having to gear up to go outside.

We had hoped for quieter winds and sea, and by Thursday night we got our wish. It was so still that we couldn't make landfall, nor could we make any headway in the right direction, so we hove to again. Friday morning we set sail with very light winds, knowing we wouldn't make it to port before dark. So there we sat, enjoying the lovely light breeze, the whales breaching to starboard (and wasn't that a thrill for me to actually see them nearby as well as through the binoculars!), making water, reading, napping in the sun--in December. A lovely, lovely day, reminding us of why we enjoy cruising and helping us forget the beginning of the trip.

A bird roosted on our bow pulpit Thursday night. (I wish I could find the picture of him. Instead, I'm posting one of the pelican who greeted us at Puerto los Cabos.) He was so cute (I'm sorry, I haven't yet figured out what kind he was), but Michael didn't want him leaving calling cards. We tried lights; he didn't budge. Michael got out his lazer beam, which used to send the sea lions diving for cover, but the bird just ignored it. When M. had to go forward to straighten some lines, he decided to do something to get rid of our nester. He waved his arms; the bird tossed his beak and held on. M. clapped from two feet away. The bird looked M. up and down and tucked his head under his wing. It wasn't until we gybed that our friend flew off, returning a short while later when things settled down. They're lovely creatures, but their remnants are very hard to clean off the deck.

a miracle and a test

2008-12-20T19:19:00.004-07:00

En Route from Bahia Santa Maria to Cabo San Lucas 12/2/08

You know how sometimes something you’ve just had in your hand all of a sudden disappears? You know it was right there a moment ago. And now it isn’t.

A few days ago, back in Bahia Asuncion, Michael was putting all the parts and pieces together for the watermaker. Ours has two large filter units that together can generate approximately 45 gallons per hour of fresh water. Each filter housing requires two large O rings and two small ones to seal the end plugs. Michael had assembled the first unit and was about to begin the second when he realized that one of the large O rings had vanished. He held one large and two small in his hand and spoke in a voice heavily laced with frustration. “Don’t throw out that trash,” he said as I began separating the paper from the plastic in his overflowing bin.

His first scouring took care of the floor. Then he searched the bilges, the floor again, the desk, the table, his pockets, toolbag, the trash. Nothing.

So, he tested the unit using the one filter and decided he’d have to try to purchase a new O ring in Cabo. No problem, but very, very frustrating. Every spare moment after that was spent sifting through every bag, every crate and box, re-examining the desk, the drawers, the bilge—every place and every thing that had been in the pilot house during the installation. His bilge inspection was thorough and repeated several times using a flashlight to peek into every nook, no matter how far from the watermaker scene. He crawled under the nav station, cleared surfaces, used a headlamp and flashlight.

Nothing.

Okay. You do your best, then you leave it alone. We’d prayed, but figured either God had better things to do than hunt up O rings that were replaceable or we were just too deaf to hear His direction Fine. We’d be in Cabo by the 3rd. A search of parts stores was on the agenda. Considering that we’re water hogs and it takes fuel to run the generator to run the watermaker, he wants as much efficiency as possible from the unit.

We rose early this morning. After breakfast, I checked the Software on Board (linked to the AIS) navigation program on this computer to see what sort of shipping was out there. We got our MaxSea nav program (which is linked to our outside chartplotter/radar) set to go. Michael checked the engine oil, and we donned our outdoor gear.

I was backing into the aft cabin when I heard Michael say, this time surprise registering: “Where did that come from?” He was pointing at the nav station. On the desk top right in front of the computer at which I’d just been working, where we’ve been every day, several times a day doing radio work or navigation checks, where the deck had been cleared several times because of that nagging sense that a big two-inch diameter O ring couldn’t just vanish into thin air. We’d moved the computer—each of us at different times, lifting it, lifting the drawer under it. Picking up every single thing on the surface. But now, in the spot where my hands had been only minutes earlier sat a large O ring. All by itself, out in plain sight, where we couldn’t miss it.

I love the things of God. Even you skeptics have to admit that something unusual happened—unless you think we’re lying.

Michael just verified that he now has two large and two small O rings available. And if that isn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is.

I think of the other times God has raised the axe head for me. Just as he did for Elisha, when the axe head flew off and into the water and God floated it to the surface, the Lord has floated lost things to the surface where I could find them. Or He has whispered to me, telling me where to look when I was about to despair. It seems this time we didn’t get silent enough to hear, so He had to float that O ring right to the top of the desk.

Glory! We serve a great God!!

12/3/08 And now the test begins:

It was a little after 6AM. Michael had just come off his watch and was about 20 minutes into a good sleep when sputter-growl-huff-huff-huff-bang-bang. The engine decided it wanted to quit. We'd been motorsailing in light winds to make it to Cabo in time to do a few clean-up projects before my mother arrived on the 8th. Now, with no engine, we've got to sail. Okay, not a problem. We're a sailboat. And if we take a few hours longer--lots of hours longer--that's fine. Only, what if we can't get the engine fixed or find a place to anchor and try to get parts before Mother arrives? What if she gets to spend her whole vacation in a hotel because the boat is torn up for engine work?

Praise God anyway, right? Amen. He's a big God.

We edge into Cabo among the jet skis, the tour boats, fishing boats, motoring boats of all sorts. Out of our way, folk, we can't change course very quickly! We're looking for the moorings we've read about, but can't see any. The anchoring ledge is between 26 and 42' wide. Deep water, then anchoring water, then beach. If we had an engine, we could drop a stern anchor, then keep the boat sideways to the beach and drop a bow anchor. With 56 feet of boat, we'll be in the surf before we can get the second anchor over. So, we turn and lope out the bay. We'll try a marina up the coast.

We call them. Yes, they have a place if we can get inside their jetties. They can help bring us in if we get there early enough.

We don't. Now the wind has dropped and we're down to less than 2 knots to go 15 miles. Michael wants us to edge up to the jetty, just to take a look, but then smartly decides that we're way, way too tired from night watches to try anything that smacks of heroics. Instead, we head back out into the Sea and heave to. This allows us to set sails so we don't go anywhere, except a slight .8 knots and drifting. I volunteer to sleep on deck so that M., whose job will be troubleshooting the engine, can get a full night's sleep.

It's lovely under the stars. Fishing boats are out there, plying their trade several miles away. I set an alarm so I can look around every so often. It's quiet all night, though around midnight I need more than just two blankets. As dawn approaches, I wake M. and we set the sails for shore. We've drifted further than we wanted because the wind changed in the night from the southeast to the norhtwest. There's not much wind now, barely enough to tack the boat, but we do and have a leisurely sail, gybing back and forth, toward shore. The dockmaster brings a fishing boat out to tow us, bringing us in easily.

So here we are at Puerto los Cabos Marina in San Jose de Cabo. It's quite a high end marina, though still under construction. We're the poor folk on the block, but we still have to pay big boat prices. This wasn't in the budget, but we're not going to worry about it. The Lord always provides.And we believe He has a purpose in all things, so we give Him praise.

As I've been writing this, M has discovered that we have more than a head gasket issue. One of the pistons shot a valve and destroyed a cylinder.That's a picture of the cylinder up there. Oh, me. But, hey, glory anyway.

I'm looking forward to figuring out what's next.

Cedros Island

2008-12-20T19:05:00.004-07:00

In between Bahia San Quintin and Turtle Bay, lies Cedros Island. As you can tell from the dates on the posts, I'm uploading what I wrote from the comfort of an internet connection in Mazatlan. I forgot Cedros, poor thing. And that's where I caught my first fish! So, I'll see if I can upload the pictures now.

Bahia Asuncion

2008-12-20T18:58:00.003-07:00

We arrived at Bahia Asuncion late on the 27^th, in time to feast on homemade chicken noodle soup and whole wheat biscuits for our Thanksgiving dinner. I’d thought of doing more, but we were both tired from the large rolly waves, so it was wonderful just to sit, eat, and relax.

This anchorage is much nicer than Turtle Bay. Far less rocky even when the wind pipes up. I suppose its disadvantage as a way stop is the lack of fuel. But so far, we’ve preferred the spots others don’t pick.

Michael worked on the watermaker during the day on Friday and actually made about ten gallons before the pump overheated. He’d had the pressure running too high. This convinced us to remain here an extra day.

Four other sailboats and one Ensenada fishing boat came in around 4 PM Friday. It’s now 9:30 Saturday morning. The sloop that sailed into the anchorage because of a fouled prop and his buddy boat have left the anchorage as has the fishing boat. Michael is messing around with cleats and lines for the lazy jacks and reefing lines while I’ve got dough rising for my first yeast bread baking on board. Yesterday I tried a soda bread recipe. I’ve done enough baking to know that something was wrong with that recipe, so I shouldn’t have wasted the propane checking it out. The resulting rock bread fed birds this morning.

We’ve just had some excitement nearby. Pangas dropped nets and hauled in mackerel galore while the herds of pelicans waited expectantly. At the second dropped net, a seal had to find its way to freedom and one of the assistant pangas came over to request a wrench to repair a motor. Michael, being West Marine south, obliged. We’re pleased they asked and they’re pleased we had what they needed. Hope I can find a way to post the pictures.

We’re impressed by the way the Mexicans work together, a community rather than fishermen in competition with one another. The net tossing and hauling boats have at least four men on board. A second panga works with each net boat to gather the line and use its motor to help with the haul. Two sets of fishermen are busy around us this morning. I’m so glad we came here and stayed this extra day. For us, this is what cruising is about, not just getting from place to place. If we didn’t have a deadline to meet Mama in Cabo, we’d probably hang here until the weather pushed us south.

Turtle Bay

2008-12-20T18:16:00.002-07:00

We reluctantly left the lovely anchorage at San Quintin around 11AM on Monday, 11/24/08. The wind clocked around from east to south to northwest as we motored out far enough to avoid navigation hazards along the coast. By nigh fall, the wind was dead astern and there wasn’t enough of it to fill the sails. We lowered the main, rolled in the jib, and motorsailed with mizzen only until dawn brought us on the approach to Cedros Island. When the wind piped up a little more--still not enough to carry the main without it slapping--we unfurled the jib. With mizzen, jib, and motor, we ran at a steady 7 knots.

In the lee of Cedros, the waves had calmed enough for me to get out my lovely, way-too-expensive rod and reel. I didn’t expect to catch anything—I mean, how many people do on their first try? Two minutes. That’s all it took after the lure bounced in about 50 feet astern. I thought at first that I’d hooked kelp, but that baby was running with my line. I finally had to call Michael to help haul him in as I don’t yet have anything like a fighting chair.

He was beautiful. Novice that I am, I pulled out the books to try and identify him. It wasn’t until I started to clean him that I finally determined he was a bonito. Grilled, it was like eating steak. Even Michael enjoyed it.

M added rpms so we’d get to the anchorage before dark. We pulled in around 5:30 PM. With a southerly wind beginning, we anchored on the south side, behind a low hill.

And didn’t sleep much at all. It felt like being at sea, rolly and smelly from the bird rocks. This morning the grib files showed the wind clocking back to the west and then northwest, so we moved in closer to town.

Now we’re floating in pelican bay, with a cormorant squadron off out starboard side, keeping watch as the big guys circle, plunge, and plop. Quite a show.

We bought diesel from a young man named Rogelio who has lived here 18 years minus one in Cabo, which was not his favorite place. $2.55 a gallon plus $20 service. Might have been cheaper at the dock, but this was much, much easier. Besides, he took the trash.

Still in San Quintin

2008-12-20T10:24:00.002-07:00

It's November 23. Sunday: The Bible on CD and now worship music as we celebrate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. How anyone can doubt a Creator God when all this magnificence surrounds us?

Michael had to turn on the generator to uses his metal cutting saws for solar panel brackets. It’s noisy (nothing like the main engine, which is a Ford Lehman diesel, marine-adapted from tractor motors), but we’re thankful to be so self-sustaining. M. has declared that he’d like to stay here a week or two—and we could if we didn’t have obligations further south.

The swell, which the GPS says is 6.53 feet, feels like a gentle roll as it slips under us. The sun flickers off a rippled sea, and the breeze is slight but cool enough to make us very comfortable. Peace settles….

South from Ensenada: Bahia San Quintin

2008-12-20T08:53:00.008-07:00

It's November 22, 2008. I’m watching the fog roll in from the ocean as the sun lowers itself behind the clouds and the white hotel behind us lights up in reflected brilliance, the first color it’s had all day. I don’t know why more boats don’t come in here. Sixteen hours plus or minus south of Ensenada, it provides shelter from the prevailing northwesterly winds. Our hook grabbed immediately, and the swells have been so benign that we’ve barely straightened the chain. The dance recorded by our gps lets us know we haven’t dragged, a comfort when the surf breaks less than a mile away.

Ducks woke me around five this morning. Their quacks sounded odd in the stillness. When we first arrived yesterday at 10 AM, I feared the greeting sea lions would be as raucus as those in Ensenada, but they merely swam over to welcome us, then backed off to sun themselves, flippers raised in a salute to the day.

Coming from Ensenada, where noise levels required two pillows over my head to get any sleep—why do those discos think music must be loud to be enjoyed?—we rejoice in the silence. Waves crash against the beach; we can hear them and the occasional bird, but nothing more than our own survival noises as Michael uses his power tools to make a bracket for his watermaker membranes and another small pump. (See the Sea Venture Workshop on deck.) Once that is completed, we’ll have the capability of making 45 gallons of pure water every hour. Luxury, cocooned in our traveling home.

2008-08-20T12:38:00.000-06:00

UPDATE

2008-08-20T11:52:00.000-06:00

We're now in Ensenada, Mexico. See our sailblogs (link on left) for the recent posts.

Moved to Richmond

2007-01-08T14:41:00.000-07:00

Well, deadlines are wonderful things but they don't often work. So, instead of heading to Mexico, we've moved the boat to Marina Bay in Ricihmond, CA. The trip down the San Jauquin was cold and lovely, and we can now see the Golden Gate--we're almost outside!

We'll try to get picutres up soon.

Windows

2006-09-21T09:55:00.000-06:00

Finally. Finally. We've installed the new pilothouse windows--after much ado, with the glass not fitting, having to order more, it not fitting. And at 3/4", one can't exactly whittle it down, though Michael did a lot of grinding on the fiberglass surrounds to get them installed.

We're also putting in new portlights in the aft cabin--lovely bronze things from New Found Metals. Hope to have pictures soon.

Views from aloft

2006-08-15T10:17:00.000-06:00

While Jason was up the mast helping his dad put on the new sail track, he took some great photos of the Delta area--and one of himself squinting so he looks like CA Gov. Arnold--just better looking.

More mast track pictures

2006-08-15T09:53:00.000-06:00

Here are a few more pictures. I'll try to get ones of the finished track up soon.

Strong Track installation

2006-08-15T09:45:00.000-06:00

We've removed the old sail track on the main mast and replaced it with a Strong Track, which allows the sail to slide up and down as if it's greased. All that's left is the mizzen track, which we hope will be simpler as we've learned a few things in the process!

Progress is SLOW!

2006-06-21T14:56:00.000-06:00

Michael's been working every night and most weekends on the galley, but it's been very slow. Not only because he's had to make space for the generator, build up the flooring under it, set up the plumbing and wiring, then haul in and install the heavy monster, but also because he's had to make all the cupboards fit around existing furniture and against a curved hull. Anyway, we finally have a photo of the new laminate countertops. Next will be the drawers and doors.

Please ignore the water spots from the lens and look beyond the things that yet need to happen. The counter will have a lovely teak fiddle, tongue-and-groove siding to match the walls. It's going to be gorgeous, plus very functional.

A Sistership's New Owner

2006-04-04T14:00:00.000-06:00

If you go down several posts to the one of me looking up into the pilothouse, you'll note how pristine that boat is. As I mentioned in the comments below it--several posts below (I was just learning how to do this)--you'll notice I mention that it's a sister ship. She is called Suete Deern and she's getting a grand overhaul by her new owners. Very exciting to hear from them.

What's going on

2006-04-04T13:29:00.000-06:00

On one of the few non-drizzly days when M. actually got to the boat, he took more sunset photos. They'll give you something to look at while you're waiting for updates on boat work. I just wish the boat were ready to live on so we could see these things every night!

It's been a while since I've posted anything because there hasn't been much progress to report. Michael's been trapped at work, 59 hours one week, 76 the next, three Saturdays in a row. We hope that's coming to an end. He plans to bring the kitchen cabinet walls (see earlier post) home this weekend to add the Wilsonart (Formica-type) to the sides. We're going with a glossy white. I think it will be beautiful behind the mahogony drawers and doors.

The counter top was going to be a Corian product we bought when we still planned to redo the galley in the pilothouse. It goes wonderfully with my new moss green cushion covers (no, it's not green), but not so well with the lovely fabric on the new lower salon cushions. So, it gets relegated to the counters we will retain in the pilot house--above the refrigerator and at the base of the companionway stairs, above the freezer. We'll also use it to replace some not very lovely marble in the two heads. In the new galley, we're going with a rather high end Wilsonart--quite glamorous really--called Deepstar Bronze. I'll try to get M. to take a photograph (my camera isn't behaving itself) when he and the camera get home. Or you can check it out at wilsonart.com.

Photos: DC, Sleepy Creek, Delta Bay

2006-03-20T18:57:00.000-07:00

This is DC by night. Michael took it (he takes most of them) in December of 2004 when we spent Christmas with my mother.

The view from our home at Sleepy Creek in North Carolina.

This and the next two were taken from the cockpit of Sea Venture December 2005 as she sat in her slip in Delta Bay Marina, Isleton, CA

Sunrise on the Sea of Cortez

2006-03-13T13:51:00.000-07:00

These were taken after a night of heaving to so we could enter La Paz by daylight. As you can see, the water's still a little fiesty. It got downright nasty during the night, and I was awfully glad we only had the mizzen and backed working jib, which kept things quiet and stable as the wind kicked up. After things quieted down toward dawn, I heard fascinating noises, which turned out to be dolphins blowing air and chatting among themselves. You can see photos of some of them on our website. They lept and danced around us as we plowed on toward our destination once Michael got the engine going again. We would have liked to sail more. but with transmission problems, the goal was to keep that iron genny going long enough to tie up at Marina de la Paz.

View from aloft in San Carlos

2006-03-13T13:46:00.000-07:00

Here we are, anchored off San Carlos, Mexico, July 2004. As you see, we're still working on rigging issues--or maybe Michael (or Joshua--I don't remember whether Josh and Andrew hoisted Michael or Michael and Andrew hoisted Josh for this one!) was putting up the fuzz ball in case we ran into one of those chubascos (summer storms) when crossing the Sea. On top of the pilot house, you can see a package containing the new solar panels, which Michael installed later that week. (Wonderful things--work like a charm.)

Found Photos of Mexico

2006-03-13T13:38:00.000-07:00

I recently found these photos that we didn't include in the website so I thought I'd post them here--all taken in 2004 between July and August.

2006-03-07T21:55:00.000-07:00

Hudson Layout as originally designed. Ours will be remodeled to work better for us. Michael spent months doing the design work on his CAD program before he began executing any of it!

2006-03-07T16:34:00.000-07:00

Looking down the steps from the pilothouse. At the bottom left you'll note wires all over the place. M. is also rewiring the whole boat!

2006-03-07T16:33:00.000-07:00

Here is the new roughed-in counter. M. angled that sharp 90 degree corner so it all matches. Wait until you see it finished!

2006-03-07T16:32:00.000-07:00

Old port side salon. Where you see the desk, we're installing the stove.

2006-03-07T16:31:00.000-07:00

Sea Venture's sailplan

2006-03-07T16:29:00.000-07:00

The Hudson pilothouse with galley design on starboard side--much too low for someone like me!

Big Boat! Right before we bought Sea Venture

2006-03-07T16:27:00.000-07:00

Sea Venture at various stages of refit.

Work on Galley and Photo intro

2006-03-07T16:03:00.000-07:00

Here are some photos of Sea Venture as we work on her. Included is one of Michael standing beside the BIG boat when he first saw her in San Carlos, Mexico. The pilothouse photo is of a sister ship that was for sale in Sausalito. As you can see, the galley was built for tiny people. It's low, exposed--imagine working there as the seas beat around you--and has little storage. So, we're moving it to the lower salon. The port side of the lower salon wasn't particularly useful as designed (at least for us)--a small settee, a desk too far away from the navigation instruments, not comfortable for computer work. With the new galley, we'll have a place for the generator, plus lots of storage and countertop area and a new 10" deep double sink. The u-shape will hold me in when the going gets rough. We'll keep the refrigerator and freezer in the pilothouse (rebuilding both), and a 5' settee will go where the stove and sink were. Michael is also installing a new Lewmar hatch above the stove area, with 12-volt track lighting above the sink and the stove.

2006-03-07T15:41:00.000-07:00

Sea Venture at Still Water Cove near Pebble Beach Golf Course on her way to the CA Delta.

Work on Sea Venture

2006-03-07T15:24:00.000-07:00

Just learning this blog thing as I search for an easy way to post photos of the boat's progress without having to republish the website everytime I add something. We're still in CA, with Michael spending nights and weekends rebuilding the galley, along with all the other jobs he's decided to tackle. To learn more about our boat and our vision, visit www.seaventure.us. I'll try to post whenever M. updates the files.