It's cool

Woke up this morning to a bit of chill in the air. Mr. Weatherman says there is a "little Norther" coming in to La Paz and staying for the next few days. I think "little Norther" might be something like being "a little bit pregnant."  Cold is cold, folks, and I was cooking breakfast in sweat pants and a T-shirt and my fuzzy slippers this morning.  Not necessarily a pretty sight, but very cozy.  By the way, thanks, J, for the French Toast Casserole recipe.  I just got around to trying it and used several of your suggestions for additions.  It was fabulous, enjoyed by all three of us (yes, Buddi liked it, too).  Bacon to go with it for the captain and juice and coffee for both of us. Of course having the oven heat up the cabin was a nice bonus.

You can see why the captain might need assistanc!

The captain is making the rounds at some boat and hardware stores this morning to get last minute items for his project.  I'm going to get an early start on laundry so I can be back in time to play scrub nurse for his operation.  He says "Vice grip" or "long-handled flat head screw driver" and I slap it in his hand like a surgical assistant.
In the meantime I'm off to do laundry. I have to admit I enjoy laundry duty. It gives me a couple of hours to sit outside the marina laundry room and read or chat with other cruisers or just enjoy the sun in between loading, unloading and folding. We have a small washer/dryer combination on the boat but although it has good washing capability it take eons to dry light loads and an eternity to dry towels.  So I usually take advantage of the marina facility while occasionally doing light loads here on the boat. Just as it is not cool to hang wet clothes out to dry in most HOA controlled neighborhood, one doesn't hang anything other than the occasional damp towel on the lifelines while in a marina. While at sea or anchorage...the entire boat can be used as a clothesline.
I expect to spend most of the rest of the day being tool man's helper and fixing some good meals for him. Kudos to the captain for his tenacity in working to make Milagro the best she can be.
Still a good life.....

Back to reality

Last week the open seas: this week the captain is back in the bilge , an enormous project ahead of him. Our hot water tank had

The captain in the bilge...half way!

developed a fatal leak. We've done without hot water for some time now, awaiting the arrival of the tank from the States, then the return of the captain from the States.  Then I got sick and as I was recovering we made the decision to go up into the Sea of Cortez... no matter what!  Well now we are back after a wonderful few days and reality has set in: it's time to install the hot water tank. The problems are many and here are but a few.  The current 6 gallon hot water tank was installed 12 years ago. Unfortunately a huge Northern Lights generator was installed at a later date....blocking access to the hot water heater.  Now it must be said that local workman cringe when we mention any work that needs doing in our bilge and claim it's the most difficult bilge to work on in La Paz. Nice reputation we've got without even trying.

Some of the "stuff" on the deck

Over the years that I've known the captain he has used nights and sleep time to find solutions to problems and difficulties, and this problem was no exception. He tossed and turned many a night while trying to come up with a solution. One of our experienced sailing friends, John,

More stuff on deck

has offered to help as well.  Of course "help" in this situation means sitting in a chair and offering advice as only one person can get down in the bilge at a time. Larry worked for two days moving wires and  cables and removing small parts which now litter our deck. Finally he was ready for the final steps. The two guys brainstormed and figured out a way to move the very heavy generator using a turnbuckle and an eye bolt screwed into the structural member above.  And it worked.  Supposedly it would be an relatively easy task (hah!) to remove bolts and pull the tank out.  Not so much.
As the tank refused to budge John suggested dismembering it, tearing off the the outer box-like structure, then pulling the tank out. The guys debated the merits of this method and finally the captain began tearing the box apart. And this time it worked.
Now one might think we are near the end of this story and the new tank had already been installed.  But that's not the way the captain works.  Now that everything had been cleared out he has decided to clean and paint the inside of the bilge, replace hoses, rewire the throttle and probably a dozen other things before installing the tank.  The thinking is that when the job is complete everything will have been inspected and refurbished if not new.  I applaud the concept but can't help feeling sympathy for the captain.  When he has finished this job, probably a week or more, he still must address the engine overheat (he's got that one diagnosed), install our air conditioners, bring the water maker up to speed, and most likely other stuff I haven't considered.
I have projects, too, but nothing of the scope of his jobs.  My regular duties still remain cleaning, cooking, laundry, shopping and a few on deck duties. So I'll feed him well and make sure he has clean underwear.

 

From the cockpit in the marina 3/20/11

From the dock next to Milagro,3/20/11

But we can't complain; no really, we can't complain! If you have to work on a boat...what better place than La Paz, Mexico.  It's still a great  place to live...and work.

Day four...sailing at last

View from one of our cabin portholes

Our third night at anchor was another bumpy ride; I'm more confident in the anchoring ability of the captain as well as the equipment by now so I sleep better, awakening just a couple of times to check our position, then going back to sleep.  As far as I can tell the captain sleeps though the night.
This morning we both seem to drag our feet.  It's a beautiful day and we three sit on the deck, the captain and I sipping coffee and and Buddi munching on her millet and all of us enjoying the sunshine.  We know we have to return to the docks to do some more work on the boat and we're scheduled to attend a St. Patrick's Day dinner tomorrow evening, but it's hard to think of leaving this beautiful space.
Last evening a couple we knew from our marina arrived aboard Prairie Oyster and anchored near us.  We talked on the radio and invited them over for dinner, but they had prior plans with other friends anchored in the cove.  However D did call back and invite me to play Mexican dominoes the following day.  I regretfully declined as we had planned to leave early the next morning; I have become quite addicted Mexican dominoes, meeting weekly to play  in the marina with others so addicted. 
We were surprised when D's husband pulled up beside Milagro in his dinghy as we were having a second cup of coffee this morning.  He tied up and we just chatted for a while. This couple will take the next 5 weeks to cruise up to San Carlos on mainland Mexico where they will have their boat pulled out and put in dry dock for the summer.  They are Canadians, as are many of the non-local cruisers, and will spend the summer (the hurricane season) in their home in Saskatchewan.  I've really enjoyed D's company the last few months and am sorry to see them go; so is the life of cruisers.  "Everyone" says we'll all meet up again some time, some where.

We are soon ready to pull up anchor and head out the inlet.  Los Islotes is about an hour a way and, as there is still no wind to speak of, we motor.  It's still a pleasant ride although the seas are running 2-3 feet and we're doing a bit more rolling about.  I'm watching myself carefully and so far there are no signs of sea sickness.

Look carefully, there are sea lions on those "white" rocks

Soon we approach Los Islotes, two very small rocky islands joined by a spit of land which is sometimes under water.  I remark that they look like something out a Star Wars landscape and, as they appear to be snow white, maybe the white cliffs of Dover. Larry just laughs; that's not chalk he says, it's bird guano!  And as we get closer we see that nearly every surface is covered with bird poo.  O.K., we are not unaccustomed to the phenomenon as we own a small bird; but this is amazing and frankly as we near the islands we come to the realization that sea lions stink and there's no doubt that the rocks are indeed covered in bird poo..
Los Islotes is the home of a sea lion rookery and the destination of many small tour boats which bring tourists out to swim with the sea lions.  We've been told that these critters are friendly and that the pups enjoy playing with humans.  I look forward to that experience, but today we just circle the islands.  I try to take pictures but we are bouncing about and can't get in very close, but we can certainly hear them barking.  The sea lions are very quick so as soon as I see them on the surface they dive before I can get a shot.  I'm still glad we came as we now know what to expect and note that there is a great anchorage a little further north from which we can dinghy back here on our next visit.

We circle the islands and head south noticing that the wind has picked up a bit. The seas are more like 3 feet and because we have changed heading  Milagro is doing a bit more rocking and rolling, testing my seasick quotient. Also, running the engine (which is still not overheating) with the wind coming from behind is blowing some diesel exhaust in our direction. I feel a bit queasy but nothing I can't handle; I'm even able to go below and fix (and eat!) some lunch.

After lunch we see that the wind speed has increased and decide to put up the jib.  It fills with wind and, leaving the engine running, we are able to do nearly 5 knots.  It feels good and gets even better as the wind speed increases further and we turn off the engine and are truly under sail, doing as much as 6 knots with only the jib out. It feels as though we are skimming across the water when in reality it's the speed of a nice jog! I finally remember the wonderful wooshing sound of the water beneath us and the sails in the wind.  It's a soft, peaceful quiet and as I pan the movie camera 360 degrees I see birds, schools of fish and the occasional seal but not a boat or person as far as the eye  can see.
The captain has been studying the auto pilot manual and finally figured out the very complicated system installed by Milagro's previous owner.  With a remote control and a 50 foot cord he can sit in a chair on the forward deck and steer the boat.  He remarks  that it would even be possible to guide our course from the head, but why he would want to do that is a mystery to me and I'm not eager for him to test the theory.
We've seen much of the sea life we had hoped to see on this short trip, but I'm disappointed we haven't spied a whale.  All of sudden the captain shouts and points to the port side.  There, 100 feet away, I see an enormous whale tail disappearing into the blue water. No time for a camera and although we search the area for a long time we do not see the whale again. Still, we did see the tail of a whale!

The remainder of this trip is near perfect. As we near the channel to La Paz and Palmira the wind slowly dies. The sun is setting and the water is like glass. The captain winches the jib in and starts the engine and we motor down the channel and into the marina where some friends wait to catch the dock lines.
This has been a wonderful maiden voyage for us and has only whetted our appetites for future cruising.  Talking with other cruisers about their adventure in the South Pacific, New Zealand and Australia and other exotic spots make us eager to complete the work on Milagro and to get on with our own adventure.

Day three

After a wonderful night's sleep we are awakened again by sunlight streaming in the portholes.  I mention to the captain that we will need tiny round covers for the portholes, maybe something like a dark shower cap, so that the person who is off watch on longer cruises can sleep during the day.  I envision my mother's flowered shower cap which also served to cover "pin curls" on occasion and I can't help but giggle.

Milagro at anchor

We get up this morning with bigger appetites and I fix bacon (regular for him and soy for me), eggs, toast and sliced tomatoes along with the coffee and one of Buddi's favorites, pineapple juice. This day we decide to complete our morning duties as quickly as possible as the winds are light and we want to get our dinghy ride in before the weather changes.  About an hour later we are lowering the dinghy and taking off for our starting point, the mouth of the cove.  The first thing we see is a very rustic fishing camp on the north side of the mouth with shacks and tents and pangas and a few locals wandering about.

Birds and rocks on the north side

As we pass the inlet the wind whips up again, but calms right down as we reach the southern shore.  In the dinghy we can travel very close to the edge and we see the bottom clearly although it may be twenty or more feet below us.  As we pass over rocks and ledges we see all kinds of fish: large and small, colorful striped zebra fish, pencil fish and even beautiful black angel fish, bigger than dinner plates and sporting bright blue and yellow stripes.
 The mountains often rise straight up from the ocean floor and although I thought I saw easy hiking trails when viewed from the north side, I now realize I would need climbing gear to manage these "trails." And although they appeared to be barren from a distance, scrub bushes and cactus abound.

A larger fishing camp on the east side of the cove

We putter along looking at all of the sea life and viewing the mountains up close until we reach the eastern end of the cove.  Again, from a distance it appeared that there was a small berm and the Sea of Cortez was just over that berm. We tied up to a mooring buoy, got out and waded through the shallow waters only to find that it was quite some distance to the other side. So, passing another, larger, fishing camp we climbed a small sand dune, then went down the other side where a wide shallow lagoon lay between us and another, much rockier hill. Climbing to the top of that was well worth the effort as the Sea of Cortez spread out before us.  I have never seen a more beautiful shade of water; the closest thing to it would be a natural sapphire.

We had seen another dinghy pull up as we were climbing the dune but they didn't stay; I wanted to tell them to come on, there's so much to see.

The Sea of Cortez,...sapphire blue

We reversed our steps and waded out to the boat.  The wind was picking up a little as we headed back to Milagro.  My intention was to lower my kayak and paddle to the sandy beach on the north side, then get out and explore on foot.  But by the time we reached the boat the wind was pretty strong and I decided not to fight it.  If someone had trouble the day before using an engine I thought my paddling skill  and strength might not suffice. We had some difficulty winching the dinghy back up (practice makes perfect) so it was mid afternoon before we finally settled in and decided to take a siesta. One of the most difficult aspects of retirement has been learning to relax. We don't get too many siestas but it sure is nice to know we can if we want.
We just relaxed and enjoyed dinner and the rest of the evening.  We had decided to lift anchor fairly early the next morning so we could make it to Los Islotes which is north of Partida and then back to the marina before dark.  We knew we were still facing a potential problem with the engine and didn't care to be bobbing around in the sea if there wasn't enough wind to sail.  So early to bed and a good night's sleep despite some heavy winds.

Day two

Sunday turned out to be a "do nothing" day.  We planned to get the dinghy down and take a ride around the cove. Although I believe that cove is the correct term, that word brings forth a picture of a cozy little area.  Caleta Partida is so large that boats on the southern shore look like ants without our binoculars.  Until you have something for perspective it is difficult to judge the size of the cove or the mountains which surround us.  Our cruising guide tells us the cove is the crater of a long extinct volcano.  Over thousands of years the western and eastern edges eroded to sea level. The remaining high sloping walls and volcanic rock are what remains of this once enormous volcano.
Before we take our pleasure ride around the cove we have chores to perform.  For me there are all the little duties you perform in your own home: making the bed, cleaning up after breakfast, washing the dishes, bundling up the trash (like camping, you pack out whatever you pack in) as well as shower (brrr, cold water) and other ablutions. By the time I finish the captain has competed his captainly duties but is studying a manual in hopes of divining the cause of our engine overheat. This seems like a good time to grab my kindle and do some "homework" for my book club.  I have just finished Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Stout and am starting The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan.  I loved his book, In Defense of Food, and am hoping one is as fascinating. And in any case, there is a nice breeze and it's lovely just sitting on the deck.
Somewhat later the breeze becomes a stiff wind and the captain and I agree that a dinghy ride would not be terribly pleasant in this wind.  In fact, shortly after we make that decision we see neighbors being towed back in their dinghy to their boat by a fisherman with a panga.  It seems the small engine on their dinghy was not capable of fighting the current and the wind.

This is the view from our cockpit...om shanti...

So we laze about the rest of the day, have another grilled to perfection (well, at least grilled very nicely!) dinner, then spend time just sitting on the deck. A sea lion swims by with a large fish in his mouth. The stars are plentiful and the three quarter moon is so bright I could read by its light.  We check the anchor, turn on the anchor light and go below to watch a movie before sleep.  And sleep I do. The wind dropped to nothing as suddenly as it came up and I don't think the boat moves a foot in any direction all night long.
I can't think of a better way or a better place to do nothing!

The adventure begins…finally…again

Both the captain and I are anxious to leave the marina for our first cruise aboard Milagro.  Everthing seemed to take too much time: breakfast, showers, last minute checks, engine warm-up.  We finally cast off the dock lines and the captain steers Milagro out of the marina and into the channel.  I am excited and a little bit scared and my mouth goes dry, just as it always did before stepping onto the stage in my theatre days. Buddi seems to know something is different but she's more relaxed than I am.  We put her in her on deck cage and she's happy to be with us. Neither one of us had to worry; we have an uneventful exit from the dock and make our way slowly north.

 There is absolutely no wind so we motor up the channel by Marina Costa Baja and the Pemex plant.  The water is gorgeous, shades of blue and turquise and all kinds of birds swoop and dive near us, looking for their next meal. We are Almost to the Lorenzo chanel when alarm sounds below.  Larry checks: engine running hot. This is exactly what happened the last time he  took boat “out of country” to complete temporary import paperwork…and in the same place.  He is visibly upset. Six hundred American dollars went to a mechanic who "fixed" the problem and the engine had been running fine in marina.  He finds we can motor at about 4.7 knots and maintain a safe engine heat level so we decide to continue on, maybe to Balandra and turn around and go back.  Big disappointment. As we continue the engine temp stays below 180 degrees so we continue, hoping for the best..

We motor past the Lorenzo channel  watching  the gps display and our faithful Cruising Guide...surprise: sometimes as we look at a picture in the guide, then at the gps disisplay, then up for an aha! moment.  Everything's right on target. I begin to have more faith in our navigation systems and our navigator!

The scenery is spectacular: Rugged rock faced mountains, some sheer drop to the sea. This is desert country so there is little greenery, just the occasional cactus or scrub.

There are lots of birds and schools of fish. Off to starboard…is that a big pelican. Get the binoculars. No! it’s a seal, floating on his back in the current.  I swear he waves a flipper as we go by.  We see sting rays from time to time, leaping out of the water.  We have heard about the famous ballets performed by theses rays. And sure enough, as I’m below, getting something to drink for us, the captain captures a group of rays leaping and pirouetting on the surface.  I missed it this time and will have to catch this performance on video.  Next time…live.

We see more sea lions, some frolicking and diving such that I thought at first they were dolphins.  I give up trying to take pics for awhile.  I want to enjoy them right now!

We come to the southern end of Isla Espiratu Santo and begin to pass inlets (Ensenadas), each more beautiful than the next.  I hint to the captain that I would be happy to anchor in any one of these but he says no, we’re going on to Calteta Partida.  But the ride and views are worth it.  Each inlet is unique but all have at least some white sand beach, torquoise water and spectacular cliffs.  The crusing guides says many have picturesque hiking trails, some crossing over to the east side of the island. I brought my hiking boots. 

Our gps show a route that appears to go right through the middle of the island, but as we get closer we see we are passing between smaller islands (Isla Gallina (hen), Isla )Gallo (rooster) and Isla Balena (whale island). The passage looks narrow until we get to it and I see how wide it is…and we are in water 140-170 feet deep.

 Larry suggests I grab my kindle and go up on the foredeck to read.  Phooey, as much as I love to read there is way to much to see to bury my nose in a book.  It’s almost sensory overload.

We watch the temp gauge (there’s still no wind to sail) and it stays comfortably below 180 degrees.

As we travel toward our anchorage we see a pod of dolphins to our starboard (please note the sailing lingo, folks.)  They are diving some distance away and I doubt that I’ll get a close look.  That’s o.k. they’re beautiful to watch from a distance and I position my self up on the bowsprit for the best view.  All of a sudden a large dolphin  surfaces right beside me, one eye looking up at me, then immediately dives across the bow (I swear they play chicken!) to the other side. I try to take a picture but he’s too fast for me.  Another arrives and they play the same game. After a bit they get bored with our slow pace and swim off.

Just as we round the corner to Caleta Partida, our destination, the wind comes up briskly. For the first time today I’m actually chilly.  It’s about 4 pm and five or six boats are already anchored.  We explore the northern side where most of the boats are and then cross to the southern side, but the wind is stronger there and we come back and find a place between a power boat, Lady Ann and a 30 ft sailboat, Getus. I drive and the captain drops the anchor.  The anchor holds but we are only in about 7 feet of water and we draft 6 feet.  If we swing much and we probably will we could hit bottom.  Captain pulls the anchor and we repeat the process.  This time it works.  We watch to make sure the anchor holds. Our neighbor dingys over... he's concerned that if/when the cormuels come up we will bump in the night.  The two captains powwow.  Larry feels confident the anchor will hold.  We sit in the cockpit for a while, he with a beer and I with glass of wine (my first since my illness), then I go below to fix first dinner: a T-bone steak, a chix pattie, baked potatoes, salad, garlic bread. This is our

first time using the refurbished and recently cleaned grill. It works beautifully and we have dinner by the red night lights.

Wow, it tasted great!

While I clean up, captain watches boat movement and feels  confident in our anchor. He call me to come up on deck. Beneath the grill light we can watch huge fish munching on tiny fish.

We are both tired and crawl into bed ready for a good night's sleep. This is the first time I've spent the night at anchor in over ten years and I'm somewhat anxious about our holding capability.  The winds are strong (we learn later over 25 knots) and varied so we are swinging on the anchor and rocking about. I'm surprise that I am not sick. 

I finally go to sleep, having listened to the captain breathing the deep breaths of deep sleep long before I succumb.  About 12:30 I wake up to hear wind howling and wonder if we are still hooked to the bottom.  I confess, I subtly (ha!)wake the captain; he goes on deck says we haven’t budged.  Back to sleep for a while then I wake again at 3:30. I peek out the porthole next to my bunk and everything looks pretty good but what do I know? My  contacts out and I don’t know where glasses are. I finally go back to sleep and sleep through until awakened by sunlight streaming in.  The captain and I chat for a bit and snuggle with Buddi. Then uncharacteristically he offers to get up and make coffee.

We take our coffee go up on deck.  No talking, just sipping  coffee and watching the now still, smooth water and the beauty around us. The is absolute stillness. Seeing this reaffirms my belief that there is a power which, no matter what name it/he/she is given, is a greater than man.
We enjoy a light breakfast on deck then cap plays his guitar. When I wrote a rough draft of this blog I said the the crew of the boat nearest us applauded as that when the captain finished playing; he didn't like the sound of that! So my reword goes like this.  As the captain concluded his concert the crew of a nearby boat applauded his music. =)
Life offers good times and not so good times; despite engine issues and strong winds in the anchorage this has been a fabulous trip so far and I look forward to more adventures.
More to come.

Going sailing

Looking forward to seeing the other side of this island

Yeaaaaa!  Going sailing today; part shakedown cruise and part R & R. Hoping to see a whale shark, a sea lion, a dolphin or two and some spectacular scenery. We'll be back when we get back.

Tsunami

We woke up this morning to  news of the disaster in Japan on our local cruisers' net.  Having no television we turned to our computers for the latest and read the reports of destruction.  It is a horrifying story that makes the Hollywood versions of such devastation pale by comparison.  My heart aches for all those affected.

Having said that, our next thought was how we will we be affected.  Good news for us: even if the Tsunami were to hit the Baja, we on on the east coast and  protected in the bay of La Paz; we will probably experience little if any effects, prehaps a slightly higher tide....or so we understand.
For those who've already checked in...thanks for thinking of us.

Viva la Mexico’s Medical System

 

You can see she's sick.

For the last couple of weeks, Edie has not been feeling well, maybe even as far back as when I returned from the states.  It seemed to get better, and then there would be an episode where she had pain and discomfort in her stomach.  But a couple of days ago, it started hurting almost constantly, and unrelentingly.  She thought it might be just a bad case of indigestion, or maybe the stomach flu, which seems to be going around down here.  On Thursday she spent most of the day in bed, and doing minor things around the boat, still expecting relief every time she went to the bathroom, which was several.  Then on Friday she didn’t feel like even getting out of the bed, so I stayed around the boat most of the day volunteering to get her things, and food, or anything she wanted, and being generally inept.  I did leave with Jose for a little while to look at a dingy that I had seen for sale.  Our dingy is getting old, and I like to keep an eye out for a good deal, you know how I am, and a good dingy is important when you’re cruising, I’m naturally still thinking that we’re going to do that.  But, I digress, anyway, when I returned back to the boat, she definitely was in pain, and very uncomfortable, worse than I had seen her before, so Jose and I went up to the cockpit and had a beer and talked for a little while.  Jose’s little girl is coming this weekend, and he’s very excited.  He got a divorce about a year ago, and his wife pretty much took everything and left him living with his parents and scrambling for a living.  For the last too many months, he’s not had any contact with his wife or little girl, because she had disappeared and he didn’t know how to contact them.  Anyway, for whatever reason, the ex-wife called him up, and he bought them tickets from Cabo, and he’s going to spend the entire weekend with his little girl.  Unfortunately his ex will also be there, and he wanted my advice about how to handle the situation.  He has a lot of respect for my maturity and judgment, so I shared with him some of my own stories, …..whoa, ….   whoa, wait a minute, I was talking about Edie being sick.  Anyway, when we finished our beer, I let him out with my security card.  Don’t you think it’s unusual that you have to have a security card to get out of my marina?  I understand that you should have a card to get in, but to lock you in until you have a card to get out makes no sense to me.  I can’t imagine the thinking that went into that decision.  Anyway when I got back to the boat I naturally checked on Edie because I could hear her moaning.  I have learned in the past that when Edie says that she needs to go to the doctor, that the next thing I should do is get the car keys.  Now, Edie has had two heart attacks, and in both causes, I would have guessed that she was just having a bad case of gas, and was in both cases totally surprised when the doctors immediately put her in the hospital.  I have a tendency to learn from past experience, and immediately when into action.  Here it was 6:30 PM, on a Friday, with Carnaval going full blast on the Malecon, where in the world was I going to find a doctor.  But I pulled out my Club Crucerous Services Guide, this is a list of all types of services that a cruiser might need in the city of La Paz.  If you want a plumber, an electrician, someone to polish your stainless steel or to make a new sail for your boat here’s the place to find them.  There’s over twenty pages in these listings, and not only does it include the type of service you need, but which of the vendors have good experiences with cruisers and come recommended, but it also lets you know the ones that speak English.  This is an invaluable resource to someone that does not know their way around La Paz, but people that have lived in La Paz for years use it too.  Club Crucerous is very good in this type of stuff.  I found the listing for hospitals, and by looking at the addresses, I realized that I did not know where any of them were located.  From the listing, I could not tell whether they specialized in cardiac services or whether they were animal hospitals.  All the names were in Spanish..  In the off chance that I might get a reasonably quick call back, I remembered a doctor that Edie had seen one time before when we first got down here.   I gave him a call, and believe it or not, the doctor answered the phone himself.  It turns out that he was still in the office and you won’t believe the next thing he told me.  Now listen closely, because you will never hear these words spoken by a doctor in the United States of America.  He said “Bring her over right now, I will see her immediately, or I will come to your boat myself”.  It took me some time to catch my breath, and to understand what the man had said, but I also knew that as long as Edie had breath in her body, that she would insist on going to the office, and that’s what I told him.  I let him know that we were about 30 minutes away.  This was my day to take a shower, and I really needed one, but I knew that Edie needed me right now, so we went with dispatch to the doctor’s office.  When we got there, we walked straight in, well as straight as she could walk, her stomach was still hurting, and the receptionist was expecting us, and showed us directly to the doctor’s office.  There were no disclaimers that stated clearly that if you didn’t have the proper insurance that you would have to go somewhere else, no notices that any thing that goes wrong is not our fault and you can’t hold the doctor responsible for anything, no forms to fill out,  none of that stuff.  They didn’t even ask what her name was, before the doctor was doing an examination.  After 10 or 15 minutes of probing, poking and asking questions as to what was her pain level, with zero being no pain, and a 10 being the equivalent to having you big toe squeezed in a vise, Edie and the doctor returned to where I was waiting in the doctor’s private office.  In a voice that was very soft, kind, controlled, utterly comforting, being a strange combination of German and Spanish accent, Doctor Enrique Tuchmann, my new best friend, said the next thing that you again will never hear a doctor say in the United States of America, ” Your wife needs an immediate Ultrasound Examination, and I will either take you to the hospital, or you can follow me in your car.”  What the hell was this man thinking?  Does he not know how a doctor is supposed act.  What does he mean he’s going to take her to the hospital?  Doesn’t he understand that doctors do not do these things?  At this step I was so befuddled that it was all I could do to keep up with the good doctor’s SUV threading itself though the throngs of people celebrating Carnaval.   And it’s a good thing that the doctor was leading the way, because I would have never found the hospital on my own.  In La Paz street signs are very rare, and most of the time you just have to guess where you are.  The only way I every get around is to just to remember which way is back to the water.  When we got to the hospital, the doctor led us in the front door, straight to the radiology department, where he personally contacted the attending specialist, and the two of them took Edie into the room with the table.  I waited outside, and again no one gave me a clipboard with stacks of forms to fill out.  No one asked to see my insurance card, and again, Edie was treated and the only paper work that was done was a prescription that the doctor filled out on the spot for the services he wanted, and on that form it asked for the name of the patient, and the doctor gave me the form and asked me to help him with her name, since as yet he didn’t know what it was. 

Ahhhh, relief.

After several minutes of waiting in the reception area, Dr. Tuchmann came out, and with a wry smile, he said that he had good news for me.  They had determined that Edie did not require any type of surgery.  Of course, my mind went into a tailspin, cause I had never even considered that that was a possibility.  You got to understand, in my mind she still had a gas problem.  He also told me that they had scanned all the other organs in the area, and everything looked good.  The only problem as it turns out was that Edie had a rather badly inflamed bowel, and with a proper antibiotic, along with some several other things  and pain medication that she should be fine in  a matter of a few days.  Boy was I relieved, and it took me several minutes to readjust to the reality of the situation.  Here we were in a very modern and well equipped hospital, and my wife had just had a medical procedure that required the attendance of two doctors and several attendants and some major medical equipment.  For the past three, count them THREE (3) hours, we had been personally attended to by Dr Tuchmann, who had missed his dinner, a trip to Carnaval, or whatever else he might have had planned for a beautiful Friday evening, and I was standing there without the ownership papers for the boat or anything else that I might have, that I could mortgage to pay the forth coming bills.  Then it came, a hand written invoice from the hospital.  When I looked it, it was a little better than what I expected.  They were charging me a little over $1300 for an emergency ultrasound procedure.  But wait a minute, we are in Mexico, why are they charging me dollars?  I looked at the bill again, and it was not in dollars.  It was in pesos, and the bill was a little over $1300 pesos.  That’s only a little more than a hundred dollars in American money.  I was able to pay the bill with a check card.  Then it was doctor Tuchmann’s turn to give me a bill.  His bill was $500.  But that is also in pesos, which translates to about $40 in America.  We walked next door to the Pharmacy and bought 5 different medicines recommended by Dr. Tuchmann, and the total bill for the entire night was about $200.  Could you imagine having a similar night in Florida?  First of all you couldn’t have a similar night in Florida.  The doctor would not have been in his office at 6:30 PM, he would not have taken you personally to the hospital, and the hospital would not have attended to a non-life threatening treatment without an appointment.  And if by miracles of miracles you could have had these things done that night it would have cost you $3000 in Florida.  “VIVA LA MEXICAN MEDICAL SYSTEM”

Even as good as it turned out, Edie being Edie, was upset by all the money that she had cost us with her ailment, and continued to apologize long after we left the hospital and the lovely Dr. Tuchmann.  I was very understanding, and in a most compassionate manner, assured it that it was alright, and all I wanted was for her to get better,  and danged the price.  However telling her this did little to comfort her guilt feeling, and I searched for just the right words to make her feel better about it.  I tried to smile and assured her that “Shoot Honey, I just spent more than that servicing and changing the oil on the boat.”  Sensing that I was getting through to her, I went on to say that, “but when I spend that much money on a lube job,  I can be assured that engine can be run hard and long, and operate at the peak of its performance.”

I am pretty sure that she was amused by my comparison, but she didn’t say anything.