Sort of Like Summer Camp

Evan and Maia on their way home after activities on shore

We rolled out of bed at ten to eight. By eight, I had a steaming cup of coffee in front of me and the VHF was on channel 22. After net control checked for emergency traffic, went over who had arrived in port (and who was leaving), asked who caught fish, and announced who had mail came the part I’m kind of enjoying—a listing of the day’s events.

There is something about La Paz that reminds me of summer camp—it might be the old-timers who are here year, after year and who make sure none of us newbees ever break the rules. Seriously. Want a smack down? Just try tying up your dinghy wrong, or using an incorrect channel on the VHF…But mostly I think it’s all the organized activities.

I’ve never been anywhere with such an organized agenda: today we had a choice of yoga at 8:30, coffee at 9:30, and organic market at 10:30 and a Spanish lecture at 1pm. Tomorrow is the same, with a few variations here and there.

The thing is—I was never that keen on summer camp. I hated rules. And I still like the adventure of finding my own activities. But when someone has gone to the work of planning a posada, organizing a race or running a yoga class—it’s kind of fun to be a joiner. For a while.

But I’m sure it won’t be too long before we tire of summer camp and are ready to jump back into unscripted cruising life. Not yet though…

All I Want for Christmas…

Christmas trees and cruising boats don’t typically go together in the same sentence. But it seems nine-year-olds need Christmas trees. So when Arboles de Navidad started appearing in Guaymas, Maia began dreaming about a tree of her own. 

A real tree.

Not the tiny fake one we carry—which still seems to take up much of the boat.

Trees don’t do well on cruising boats for a few reasons. First there’s the space issue—trees take room, space we normally reserve for living in. Then there’s the salt water—if we had bought a tree in Guaymas it would have ridden south on the foredeck. Two days of saltspray would have done it in. And it’s hot here, trees don’t like heat…

But somehow every argument against having a tree disappears when not only are they available, they’re freakishly cheap—we paid less for a Canadian tree here than we do in Canada…

 Add this to the fact that the only other thing besides a Christmas tree on Maia’s Christmas list is that everyone else be as fortunate as her, and suddenly a tree seems easy to find space for.

 So we bought our tree. And carted it home. We nestled it in the cockpit and then Maia and I began to bake: shortbread and minced tarts and homemade eggnog (we make the cooked version in Mexico.)

 We put on the Christmas tunes and spiked the grown-up eggnog and trimmed our very special tree.

 It may not last. It may be brown and wilted by weeks end. It may fill the boat with needles. The cat might eat it.

But the joy…

The Virgin of Guadalupe

 It’s fiesta time. I know, it’s always fiesta time, and every fiesta is the fiesta. But December 12, the Feast of Guadalupe, really is special to Mexicans.

If you were here, strolling through street markets or passing peoples homes you’d see mountains of goods all featuring the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe.With her blue green-robe and serene face her image is ubiquitous in Mexico.

Her story is mythical. On December 9, 1531 a peasant called Juan Diego was walking home across a hill in Tepeyac, near Mexico City, when he encountered a vision of a young woman. Speaking in the local dialect she asked that a church be built on the site. So Diego took her message to the bishop who asked for proof of the vision. Three days later, the peasant provided the proof when the image of the Virgin Mary appeared miraculously on his cloak.

The La Paz church has long been under construction--but that didn't stop the crowds

 So they built the church and a whole bunch of miracles happened. But charming story aside, many will argue that more than any other uniting factor, the idea of Guadalupe is what gives Mexicans their national identity. Language certainly didn’t unite the place, as some 117 of them were spoken in 1531. Ethnic background didn’t provide any kind of glue, not when the people evolved from raping Spanish fathers, enslaved Indigenous mothers, and a bunch of random Austrians, French, Germans, Irish, Black, and Chinese. Not even religion, geography or shared histories were enough to bond the people—there’s simply too much diversity.

But the Virgin of Guadalupe is said to be the common denominator. She combines early indigenous attributes and beliefs with the Catholic ones. The indigenous people who had been worn down by the Spaniards but not fully converted to Catholicism missed their own gods. And when the Virgin Mary of Guadalupe appeared, brown skinned, speaking a local language and cloaked in a hallo of light that could double as Maguey spines--they again had someone to worship—someone who was uniquely their own.

Her arrival is said to mark the birth of a new land and a new people: A country that is neither Spanish, nor indigenous, but both. Even her physical appearance reflects this new world, her face looks neither Spanish nor Indian, “Her lovely features are the pleasant mixture of both - she is a Mestizo, the first Mexican.” Writer Gloria Anzaldua writes, "She is like my race - a synthesis of the old world and the new, of the religion and culture of the two races in our psyche, the conquerors and the conquered."

even the bus gets into the spirit

rather than going from house to house admiring Christmas displays we checked out the neighbourhood virgins...

 And she’s another good reason to throw a party, play loud music, send off the odd firework... Her celebration is also the unooficial start to the Christmas season--from now through January 6th the country is pretty much on holiday.

Goodbye Guaymas--for real this time

Thursday
We're headed south. The wind is about 10-12 knots from our stern quarter and we're sailing in lumpy seas. The wind's dying though. It clocked around from ahead and as it did our speed dropped to 6 knots, it feels a bit like we're wallowing toward La Paz. And wallowing makes me queasy. Maybe it's simply sailing for the first time in six weeks that makes me queasy. Or maybe it's the fact we stayed up too late and drank too much with the new friends that we hope someday will be old friends that makes the start of this passage feel less than lovely...
Evan, Maia and Charlie are napping. In an hour or so we'll eat dinner and watch the sunset. Then the long night will start. There won't be much moon--but the stars will be bright. La Paz is still two days away--maybe by the time we arrive my sea legs will be back.
But for now I type, stare at the horizon and think, type some more and imagine flat seas, or a smooth stomach.

Friday
Despite the forecast for light and variable winds dropping to calm, the wind clocked to our stern and built to 12 knots or so by this morning. So we've been sailing since we left--averaging 6.2 knots--even with a few middle of the night hours of 3's thrown in there. Our original plan had been to explore our way south to La Paz--stopping in at a few anchorages we missed. But Evan has work waiting for him in La Paz--and with the slow internet connections (aka difficult work connections) of the South Pacific in our near future, we're both trying to squeeze as many work gigs as we can out of the next few months. We enjoy cruising more when the coffers are full...
The trade off for not stopping is we are enjoying what has become perfect sailing. The Sea isn't known for steady winds or smooth seas--and while the seas certainly aren't long even swells--the simple fact the wind and waves are both coming from the same direction is a huge treat.
At our current speed we'll hit La Paz sometime in the middle of the night. So we may pull in to one of the wide open anchorages just outside the harbour and wait for daylight. Maia has already begun planning our first dinner ashore--she points out this is the first time she's returned to a harbour after a long absence and she's beginning to get excited about seeing places she likes and doing the things she's missed.
We're still going to miss all the people who won't be there with us this Christmas--but her confidence in the fun we'll have is making me excited too.

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Whether, Weather…

To leave, or not to leave, that’s still the question.

The problem isn’t so much not knowing what the weather might bring, but the fact we have way too many opinions, forecasts, weather charts and grib files to choose between. And none of the models agree. It’s almost enough to make me long for the good ‘ol days: Back when we could pull down one weather fax—then make our own best amateur weatherman guess. For better or worse.

But know we have a deluge of information. And the best case scenario really is the best case. It’s a perfect 12 knots on the beam, rising to 20 as our overnight passage continues. The seas should be between 3-5’, probably a bit steeply spaced but comfortable enough.

But that is just one weather report. We also looked at four more… And this is where it gets confusing.

Weather is a guessing game at best and it’s amazing how many different scenarios can be extrapolated from one set of satellite pictures. One model has a full blown norther developing tonight—definitely not conditions we want to sail in. Another has the wind rising to NW 18-24 in the afternoon and NW 20-26 overnight—which might be fine, depending on the seas… But the Sea of Cortez rarely has pleasant seas—there is just too much tidal current.

So maybe we’ll wait. But waiting also has its own issues. Because the model we like best—the one that predicts a perfectly okay crossing—also predicts a norther blowing up later in the week. So maybe we’ll go…

I’m going to drink coffee, have a hot shower at the marina, and ponder…

Want to know where we get our Mexico weather?

Stan’s weather:

http://www.saildocs.com/socforecast

Geary’s weather:

http://www.solmatesantiago.com/weather/forecasts.html

COAMPS and GFS grib files from Sailmail

NOAA weather for the Southeast Pacific

http://www.nws.noaa.gov/om/marine/sepacificbrief.shtml

High Seas Forecast

http://weather.noaa.gov/cgi-bin/fmtbltn.pl?file=raw/fz/fzpn03.knhc.hsf.ep2.txt

Fleet Weather

https://www.fnmoc.navy.mil/public/

Goodbye Guaymas-maybe

Our work is done. The cruising kitty is fed. The weather report looks optimistic for the 100 mile passage to San Jaunico tomorrow. So now we need to fill the fuel tanks and the pantry, do some laundry and say our goodbyes to Guaymas.

 evening on the malecon (Ceilydh is in the lower right corner)

Ah, Guaymas…

More ruined than beautiful; more loud than musical—our affection for this overlooked little coastal city caught us off guard. We’ll miss the nightly celebrations, the giggling children and the warm welcomes we receive everywhere we go. And we’ll miss the calm protected anchorage. How nice it’s been to sleep soundly on smooth seas every night. Albeit serenaded by brass bands and bad karaoke…

 We’ll also miss our dear new friends—especially Paula, Matt, Sammy and Trinidad on Endurance. We celebrated our week-iversary but swore it must have been longer that we’ve been friends. We’ve packed so much into such a short time, and now we hate the idea of leaving them behind. Paula keeps telling us the weather is terrible and we’ll have to stay. I keep telling them they don’t really need money to live on and they should just keep sailing and not go home.

 But sailboats need to sail, and seasons need to be respected. And sometimes journeys need to end.

We’ll leave when the weather window opens. And they’ll head home soon after.

 But don’t tell Paula that secretly we also hope it won’t be tomorrow…

Crossing on the Diagonal

 We waited to cross the street—first one set of green lights went, and then the next, but the don’t-walk sign stayed steady. Then a few minutes later all the cars got red lights and the pedestrians all got walk signs and we went every which way. It was quite exciting to discover we were able to avoid crossing two streets by crossing on the diagonal.

the skating rink to be...

 After 11 months in Mexico, I like to feel like I ‘get’ it. I may not speak the language—but I enjoy the culture. It’s an easy going kind of place. But it’s also just a little bit off kilter. It’s the kind of place that sets up an ice rink in the middle of the town square when the daily temp is still hovering around hot—a feat of engineering that both boggles the mind and that will cost more than a typical local can afford.

the old prison, or a museum with no exhibits...

 

It’s also the kind of place where if you show up at the ex-prison and think it’s a museum, you’ll get a museum tour, even if it’s not a museum, or maybe it is. And the sort of place where you can buy Chinese food in a fabric store and walk home in a parade.

I look at this and think, 'a nice place for lunch'

Paula and I took all the girls for an adventure today. The first stop was to be the museum (which may, or may not be a museum) but we were waylaid by the ice rink that is under construction and first had to ask about that. Paula is Chilean—so for the first time I have someone at my side who can ask all the questions I ponder on a daily basis.

In the grocery store I get her to find out what each mysterious bag contains and what to do with the contents. She also finds out when the buildings were built and what they were used for. She asks what activities are happening and how much they cost.

 But even she gets puzzled by crosswalks that sometimes go every which way, and sometimes not, and by museums that might not be museums, and by restaurants masquerading as fabric stores (or maybe fabric stores masquerading as restaurants) and by parades that come out of nowhere and disappear just as fast.

And in those moments it’s good to know that not even speaking the language will make Mexico make sense. And that I can just go back to enjoying it…

Go Ahead, Drink the Water

this was covered by flooring and we knew the area was squishy, but the amount of rot was impressive...

I’m not sure how many entries we have about our %!#&! water tanks… The saga started on our first sail after leaving the dock in July 2009. After a boisterous passage across Georgia Straight, we discovered water on the floor of the starboard hull. Initially we decided it was just a leaking hose, but as the months went on we realized that our integral tanks were rotting away.

So in May Evan ripped out the starboard tank and rebuilt it. The plan was to do the port tank as soon as the starboard one was watertight. But that happy day never came. Every time we tested the tank water would spurt, burble, or trickle out of some miniscule breach in Evan’s glass work.

So the port tank—which was rotting under our feet—remained our primary tank, despite the fact we had to filter out splinters after a particularly bumpy wind event…

After making four attempts to find and patch leaks in the starboard tank—Evan became serious about replacing the portside built-in tank with a polyethylene tank. He found a company called Ronco plastics that seems to make tanks in every conceivable shape (except, of course one that would fit in the same place that the built in tank was located…)

our new 44 gallon tank

 But we found a spot (outboard, where his tool boxes had been), ordered the tank and had it shipped to Arizona. We brought it home and got it installed, and then turned the floor tank into storage. Then he did one final fix on the starboard tank—which seemed to take.

Evan built a new plywood/epoxy floor to cover the storage area...

 So…

That project just might be done!

Shak-shak

 With music all around us (and even the promise of a Guns N’ Roses tribute concert coming to the Malecon in just a few days…) Maia needed a musical instrument of her own.

 At the Tianguis in Empalme we could have bought a flute, or a tuba, or even a set of drums—but then Paula introduced us to the Flamboyant tree. A tropical tree which is known for its vivid red flowers (June-September), the Flamboyant or Royal Poinciana also grows a giant seedpod. And this big seedpod, when dried, becomes a percussion instrument known as the shak-shak, or maraca.

 The best part of the shak-shak--which is even better than the concerts, dances and songs it helps you to produce—is that to get one you need to climb a tree.

Pearl Fever

The pearl farm on Bacochibambo Bay

I think we’ve sent every cruiser we’ve met in Guaymas to visit Perlas del Mar. And each time they come back, I check out their new beauties, and dream about owning just one more pearl for myself.

Back in the old days—when this body of water was still called the Vermillion Sea, thanks to the red algae that also signals the spawning season for the oysters—people were said to catch Pearl Fever. Legends were born; of divers who lost their lives and maidens who sold their virtue, all in the search for that one special pearl.

 So considering that Paula from Endurance hadn’t been to the pearl farm, and it’s my birthday week—we caught the Miramar bus at the Mercado and headed out to visit our friends Douglas, Manuel and Enrique at the farm.

We arrived too late for the last tour of the day (it ran at 2pm) but Douglas is a gracious host and Paula and the girls were shown the pearls and told how they are grown. This is when I also learned that I could buy pearls individually and either take them to a jeweller or have Manuel set them. So Douglas pulled out more pearls and we went to work. I learned about the different grades of pearls, what to look for and then finally selected two baroque pearls that would make up my (shockingly affordable) earrings.

choosing my own pearls

While Manuel worked to make my earrings, we chatted with Douglas— and he asked if we’d ever found nice ironwood (we asked him where to shop for carvings on our last visit and he recommended the market for its non-tourist prices). A few minutes later Douglas disappeared and then reappeared with a beautiful carving—a birthday gift.

Each day we’re in Guaymas, we get to know people a little better, and it makes the idea of leaving that much harder. But I think with Christmas approaching and my pearl fever growing more passionate we’d best get going…