Southward bound...

On April 24, 2013 we undid our dock lines, and for the second time, set out on a cruising adventure.  This time I was going places that I had never been before and I was a little nervous about it. We fueled up at the fuel dock and by midday we were making our way out of Palmira Marina and setting a course for Isla Isabel.

Isla Isabel is an isolated volcanic island lying approximately 18 miles off the mainland coast, and 40 miles northwest of San Blas (21 deg – 51.568N by 105 deg – 52.923W).  This very unique island has been nicknamed the “Galapagos of Mexico” because of its enormous numbers of nesting birds and resident iguanas.  Like the Galapagos Islands off Ecuador Isla Isabel is isolated in the Pacific Ocean and relatively free of natural predators.  As a result many of the birds on the island, including blue footed boobies and magnificent frigate birds, allow visitors to approach without fear of being harmed.  In 1981, Isla Isabel was given national park status by Mexico (Parque National Isla Isabel), and in 2003 was deemed a World Heritage Site, resulting in protection on a national and international level.

Isla Isabel is a result of prehistoric volcanic activity and the caldera of this extinct volcano is still visible today.  Located in the middle of the island the caldera has since filled with water and is known as Lago Crater.  A series of trails crisscross the island and allow hikers to explore the interior of the island, including the lake, ridge tops, and some of the more remote beaches on the island.

The trip to Isabel from La Paz is about 328 miles according to the GPS, which means three long 24 hour days of sailing.   Sharon and I had worked out an informal watch schedule which is most important during the night time hours.  During the day light hours there is plenty of spare time for reading, napping, sunning, or in Sharon’s case writing.  She is thinking that there may be another book in this trip.  She had already sent off an article to a sailing magazine in South Africa about our trip to Loreto, and there was some hope and a positive indication that the article might be published.  South Africans seem to have a strong curiosity about Mexico, and the article covered not only the sailing, the cities, and the country, but the people and the food.

We were still checking out the boat.  It is my nature to always make sure that things are working properly as the failure of some types of equipment could be critical, and even dangerous, to our well being.  It was not long until I began to distrust the operations of the bilge pump.  At some point I realized that it was acting erratically, and after that I monitored it closely, and operated it manually to keep the bilge dry.  This was a repair that I needed to look into when we got to Isabel.

During the day, with our course set into the GPS and the steering turned over to the auto pilot, given that all the equipment performs properly, there is very little for the crew to do; therefore, we decided not to have a formal watch schedule during the daytime.  It was Sharon’s responsibility for the galley and the preparation of the food, and I spent most of the day time just monitoring the systems and our positions.  At about sunset we would celebrate the conquering of another day with a beer or a glass of wine. This was a tradition that we set up soon after Sharon got to La Paz; the sunsets are almost always spectacular and always gave us pause to stop what we were doing.  The clinking of glasses or bottles as the sun went down was dubbed as a “sundowner” and we did it almost every day.

I do not eat a lot when I am sailin, and most of our meals were simple but balanced and nutritious.  Sharon had told me during one of our first conversations that she was not much of a cook, but she could guarantee me good, wholesome and simple foods.   With the movement of the boat in even the calm or good times, it makes food preparation, and even eating with utensils, cups or glasses clumsy and difficult.  Except in the calmest of conditions, finger foods are much preferred by this sailor.

After an evening meal, and the cleanup, we would start a watch schedule that consisted of two and one half hours on, and two and one half hours off.  We came up with that by trial and error.  It was a reasonable watch that was a little short by most conventions, but worked perfectly for us.  During the night watch, again, there was little to do, but sails were something that came to be a problem during the night time.  It seemed that regardless of what winds that we had during the day when it got to be dark the winds died altogether, and the watch had to deal with flapping sails and sail adjustments all night long.  The winds were not consistent in any one direction, and at times would just spin around the boat, causing havoc with any sail plan.

I was surprised, and to tell you the truth a little disappointed about how cold it was during the night time hours.  You could feel the chill start at about sundown, but by eight o’clock one began to bundle up.  I think I even wore long pants and long sleeve shirts during the daytime, from the time that we left La Paz bay.  At nights there was a sequence that I went through every night…..long sleeve pants and shirts…..sweat pants and shirts, layered on…….by midnight…..fleece tops and bottoms… by three o’clock adding a jacket to the collection.  At some point we would each add toboggans, or ski masks, gloves, and anything else we could pile on including sleeping bags and blankets.  Sharon made heself a nest underneath the dodger to keep out of the wind and stay warm, and would come out every half hour or so to look at the instruments.  I just hunkered down at the helm and used the cold air to keep me awake.  Where are those soft tropical winds I have heard so much about?  I’m freezing!