Feliz Cumpleanos

Today my Captain celebrates a milestone, a very special birthday. And in honor of this day I’d like to dedicate this blog to him.

Often self-deprecating  and always ready to smile at himself, he has said many times over the years that he never thought he’d live to be thirty. Or to paraphrase Minnie Pearl, if he’d known he was going to live this long he’d have taken better care of himself.  (pause for chuckle) But the truth is he is in great shape: he is resilient, healthy with an agile mind and a strong body. He loves to point out that he takes no regular medication.  He works hard – six or seven days a week – as there is always something to do on the boat - then is ready to go out with friends and do the same thing the next day.

It’s probably pretty obvious that I love him. He has been my friend, my partner, and father to our children. He has been my strength in times of great sorrow and the one person who can always make me laugh. Of course there have been ups and downs in our marriage; we have both done and said things we regret. But any mistakes we may have made have been forgiven and in the long run made us stronger as individuals and as a couple.

In a scenario wherein I am stranded on a desert island and get to choose one person to join me…I choose Captain Larry. He is strong and smart and funny and creative and able to "MacGyver”  his way out of any difficult situation.  He is good with people and kind to animals and I am happy and proud that he chose me be his life partner.

So Larry, happy birthday and may you live long and prosper! You may not be perfect but you are perfect for me.  Soon you will be sailing to the South Pacific and I expect you’ll be wearing that beautiful smile…and perhaps that’s all.

Thanksgiving Day 2012...and being a vegetarian

Eagerly awaiting the call for our table

We celebrated Thanksgiving with 200 of our closest friends at Marina Palmira on Thursday. In the past I volunteered to be on the serving committee but this year I wanted to actually eat with Larry and friends, not an hour after they finished, so I volunteered to help prepare 25 turkeys for the ovens. I know, I know, it seems an unlikely job for a vegetarian, but I thought I would just be chopping vegetables to go inside the bird. Turns out that job was completed in about 15 minutes and my next job was patting the turkeys dry after they had been unwrapped and washed. One fellow worker suggested I should just tell the poor birds, "It's going to be o.k."
This part of the preparation was organized by Susan Ross whom I have mentioned in previous blogs. Folks, if you want to get a job done, call Susan. We left the Marina at 6:45 a.m. arriving at Casa Buena a few minutes before 7:00. By 8:02 twenty-five turkeys had been unloaded, unwrapped, divested of giblets, washed, dried, placed in roasting pans, oiled, salt and peppered,stuffed with apples and veggies, wrapped and loaded into another vehicle for transportation to the roasting ovens. Whew!
A fellow worker took a pic of me handling a turkey and I'm looking forward to publishing it as proof positive that I am a team player and a reasonably good sport!
I've been a lacto-ovo vegetarian for the better part of 24 years, with a few forays into the land of vegan and more recently the addition of the occasional fish dish to my menu. I'm thinking seriously of leaving fish off the plate following a fishing experience during which...well, I was pretty grossed out. I am often asked why I became a vegetarian and the short but rude reply would be, "Well, why do you eat meat?" I usually tell people that I became a vegetarian for health reasons...but that's not really true. I came to a point in my life where I decided that I would not eat something I could not kill...and I could not kill a deer, or a chicken, or a lamb or a pig or apparently a fish. Or to quote one of my daughters who has been a true vegetarian for many years, if it ever had a face I won't eat it. All of that is just a way of getting around saying I don't eat meat for ethical reasons. I've been known to waffle when the subject arises because 1) it's not really any one's business and 2) I am continually amazed at how hostile and argumentative people can become.

Yum! Butternut squash risotto and roasted garlic mashed potatoes

Of course, most people know that Larry is a devout omnivore who likes his steak medium raw! and wonder how we co-exist. Well, it's really quite simple: I have never attempted to convert him or impose my beliefs on him. He knows how I feel and I understand that he feels differently. I rarely cook meat for him  but then he's a better grill master than I am, anyway, and  he enjoys many vegetarian dishes. It could have been an issue between us but we chose not to allow that. After all, I was not a vegetarian when I met and married him and I don't expect him to change in that way for me.
So he served himself a big helping of turkey and gravy and added a few vegetables on the side, I heaped my plate with all kinds of vegetable dishes (checking for the hidden bacon and ham hocks), and we both enjoyed way too much from the desert table. And we were both thankful...and a maybe little bit uncomfortable.

Thanksgiving

I have been somewhat discouraged lately. Larry and I had a wonderful adventure in the Sea of Cortez, despite a bit of bad weather and a serious refrigeration problem. Now we are back in La Paz: old and new friends arrive daily either from having spent the summer in the north of the sea or from the west coast, having scooted down the outside of the Baja and up into Bahia de La Paz with the Baja HaHa. There are lots of activities as we ready for the huge Thanksgiving celebration here in Marina Palmira or the upcoming Subasta (more about that later) at Marina de La Paz. And of course Christmas and New Years are right around the corner. Cruisers love an excuse to party and eat almost as much as librarians!
So why have I been discouraged? It seems there is ALWAYS something to do on the boat. We complete one project and another two or three loom on the horizon. Not unlike a house, actually. But after a few days of feeling down and out I have kicked myself in the pants and told myself, "Hey, you, Thanksgiving, as in being grateful and giving thanks, is just around the corner. Buck up and stop feeling sorry for yourself!"
For one thing I thought about a lovely lady, Laura, who with her spouse Steve visited their boat Orontes which was docked next to us for many months. Laura and Steve lived in Texas but traveled to La Paz regularly to work on their boat. No matter what else was going on, no matter how badly work may have been going, Laura and Steve came up on deck every day at sunset and sat quietly watching as the sky turned golden, then pink, then red.
Thinking of them, their obvious gratitude for what lay before them, was just the reminder I needed. If I started writing today and typed for the next 24 hours I could not begin to list all of the blessings in my life. It is all too easy to focus on things that may not be going well and to forget about loved ones, friends, good health, shelter, food, clothing and the many many gifts received daily.

From now on, an attitude of gratitude!

Lif is good

Had a banner day yesterday.We are down to one vehicle for the moment so Larry dropped me off for my yoga class before heading out for some errands. I was starving after class and Larry kindly took me, along with my new Australian friend, to a local bagel shop which rivals Einstein Bros., for some breakfast. While I sipped an excellent latte and waited for food Larry crossed the street to purchase tickets for a concert featuring Jackie (Miller) Davidson (who along with Randy Sparks was  one of the original New Christy Minstrels) and Gary Brandt, folklorist and songwriter. At that moment the couple appeared at our table (obviously seeking their own fresh bagels and cream cheese) and invited us to the performance. Can't wait for Saturday night; it should be a blast.
Meanwhile we had been invited to attend a recital at the local music school which included a performance by Alex, the young classical guitarist we met at a dock party recently. After a nice dinner at Tailhunters we drove out to the school and heard a
Alex play: he is a true musician, blessed not only with technical ability but with "soul" as well. It was wonderful.
We also enjoyed chatting with two young women from Montreal who had traveled to the Baja for a kayaking/camping adventure and were being hosted by Julio and Maria, Alex's parents.
One of the things I love the most about our "adventure" here in Mexico is the opportunity to meet people of all ages, from all over the world, and from all walks of life. I have an enormous curiosity about how and why other people came to be here. Or I'm just nosy!

Larry's Version - Part III - Rough Seas

Buddi in calmer seas

One of the things that worried me about this sailing trip, was Buddi, our youngest daughter and Sun Conure.  I was afraid she would be freaked out with the movement of the boat, and if things got really rough, I knew I would be really busy, and unable to look after her.  We had hung her travel cage high up in the cockpit, just under the Bimini, and although she obviously did not like the sound of the engine running, and at first complained bitterly about it, she gradually got used to it.  As soon as we put her in her travel cage, she immediately stuck her little head into the wind, and seemed to glory in the fresh breeze and sunshine.  She watched the pelicans diving into the water all around us, and seemed to be amused by the clown calls of the sea gulls.  The way to know if Buddi is having a good time is to listen to her.  If you don’t hear anything, you can pretty well assume that she is having a good time.  When Buddi is not having a good time she is quite vocal about it, and there is no missing the point.  We had to be very careful in putting into the cockpit cage, because if the wind is blowing very much, as it so often was, she could be blown overboard.  If we happened to be underway at that time, it would be a real problem to get her back.  She would stay in her cockpit cage all day long, and at night when we took her down to her main cage, she would immediately get in her Happy Hut and go to sleep.  She was exhausted after a rough day at sea. 

Clouds come in...seas pick up a bit

 As we were approaching Puerto Escandidto the winds were howling upwards of 35 knots, and had been building all day.  Spray was coming over the side, and Buddi was in her cockpit cage.  Although we had left Agua Verde under calm conditions, and all day long the conditions had continued to deteriorate.  To get into Puerto Escandidto we had to pass along the outside of a large island called Danzante, then turn sideways into the wind for a short distance before running back south into Escondido.  The seas had built to an estimated 12 feet, and as long as we were heading straight into the wind we had a fairly bumpy ride, but not overly uncomfortable.  However when we made the turn at the end of Danzante, around the point, suddenly we had 12 foot waves hitting us in the side, and the rolling of the boat was most uncomfortable, and I could hear things crashing all around below.  I had taken Buddi’s cage down from the Bimini and placed it under the dodger for protection from the wind, but more from the spray.  I wasn’t sure how Buddi’s feathers would respond to being soaked in saltwater.  The only time that Buddi squawked or made a sound was when her cage rolled over on it’s side in a particularly brutal wave.  That is when I took her down to her main cage.  She rode out the rough water better than either Edie or I did.  We found that she was totally content with sailing, bad weather, rough sea, and even hurricanes.  She’s our little “sailor bird”.

Edie didn’t like the rough seas either, and experienced some fear that the boat was going to turn over, when a large wave would catch us just right and roll us over 30 degrees or so on our side.  I did not worry so much about turning over, but it is very uncomfortable to roll so much, and sometimes the forces are so great that just holding on to keep from being thrown about seems impossible.  Our boat is our home, and we have a lot of homey type stuff on board.  Part of getting ready for a trip is tying things down, and locking things in place, stacking and organizing things in such a way that things won’t move around much when the weather gets hostile.  I could hear the wine glasses clinking against one another, and sliding doors straining against their restraints.  When we left Agua Verde I had no idea that bad weather was to be a part of or day, although the weather reports had warned us of impending bad weather coming in the next day; I did not adequately prepare for what we were encountering.    We have two chairs in our salon that are free to move around.  I have bolts in the floor for fixing the chairs in place, but I had not secured them.  On top of thinking we were about to die, Edie took on the task of keeping the chairs from crashing about the cabin during the worst of the being tossed about.  Although it seemed certain that everything that we had stored in closet, or cabinets and drawers we about to be heaved onto the floor, at the end of the trip, most of the more important things remained intact, in place, and undamaged.  And thanks to the wrangling skills that Edie discovered she possessed, the chairs caused no damage either. 

If you notice, I have made no mention of Edie’s now famous sea sickness.  That’s because she didn’t have any.  The long time cruisers of Mexico know of a secret elixir that cannot be bought in the United States, which has the repetition of working wonders.  The medicine goes by the name Sturgeron, and was supposedly developed in England for use by the Royal Air Force.  It has virtually no side effects, and can be taken even after sea sickness is upon you.  But the best part about it is that it really works, and for our entire trip, Edie did not suffer from sea sickness.  I was very proud of her.  How many people could you imagine, would continue to try to battle a condition that had dominated her sea going life, virtually forever.  Congratulations to Miss Edie for her fortitude.   

P.S.  Before we left the States for this adventure we purchased a rail mount for our video camera so we could film ourselves and Milagro during rough seas; we have yet to get it out when needed so you'll find no pictures during our more exciting moments...not yet, anyway.

Larry's version - Part II

For all the beauty of the islands just off La Paz, Isla San Francisco moves the bar a notch higher.  The Island sits very close to the mountains on the Baja between Loreto and La Paz.  These mountains are BIG and they rise right out of the water and soar to incredible heights.  With all the colors and layers of Caleta Partita, these mountains are a marvel, and inspire you to stare and become hypnotized by the mere mass and majesty of the range.  Some of the peaks are high enough that there are clouds around the top, and I have been told that it is not uncommon for it to snow at some of the higher elevations.  And sitting within a few thousand yards of these incredible mountains is a jewel of an island, San Francisco.  

I had been to San Francisco once before and was not as startled by how beautiful it was as was Edie.  Until you are very near rounding the point, you cannot see the bay, so it seems like all of a sudden this expansive bay opens up unexpectedly, and leaves one with few words looking at clear green water and white sandy beaches.  The bay is long and crescent shaped with rocks on each end.  Near the middle of the bay the land is flat behind the beach and reaches across the island to another bay on the other side of the island.  So depending on the direction of the wind you could receive protection from fetch coming from almost any direction, but simply changing anchorages from one bay to the other.

Yes, the water is this beautiful!

On each side of this opening across the island are massive, rugged, and rocky hills, not quite as big as mountains, but still a challenge to hikers.  With my bad ankle, and the desire to watch a movie on the television and have popcorn for breakfast, I declined an invitation from John and Nicky to scale the slope and take pictures of our boats.  But not to be outdone, Edie accepted the invitation, and I volunteered to take them all ashore in the dingy, and come back and get them later.  I could see the hikers all the way up the slope to the top from the comfort of my padded deck chair and that was good enough for me.  I even had a morning beer to celebrate the success of the climb.  Edie made some incredible pictures of Milagro sitting at anchor, one of which she uses as the background picture on this blog. 

They hiked down the ridge line all the way to the flats where they had intended to visit the salt marshes.  In the old days fishermen would camp in this bay, and mine the salt to preserve their catch.  The salt marshes are not used for that today, but Nicky told us how she had gathered salt from these marshes last year, and put them in special containers and given them as gifts.  The salt has a pinkish color, and is said to be very unusual.  But unfortunately this year, there has been more rain than even the old timers have ever seen, and the salt marsh was a lake.  Otherwise some of you may have gotten salt for your Christmas present.

The water in this Bay was absolutely clear, and even though we anchored in about 25 feet of water, we could look down and see the anchor on the bottom.  There were fish all over the place, and we could see little schools setting up around our propeller and rudder.  I think they are called sergeant majors and are little tropical fish often seen in aquariums, and they came by the hundreds. 

Bill helps with hooka

Getting ready to dive

The water was warm and very inviting, and inspired me to, at last, try out the hooka system that I had installed on the boat several months ago.  The hooka, compressor which I bought on ebay, is an oiless compressor which had previously been used to supply air to a dentist chair. With Edie’s help we pulled the hose up from under our bunk to the cockpit locker and I was ready to dive.  We dug out mask and fins and, with the instruction from Bill, I took the plunge.  I held onto the ladder until I got the hang of breathing, and bounced around a bit, to reassure myself that I could get back up if I turned loose of the ladder.  Finally I let go, and with more effort than I had expected went under and to the bottom. 

The Sea of Cortez is the second saltiest major body of water in the world and salty water causes you to float.  So I had to wear a big weight belt in order to even go under the water.  In the anchorage there is little plant life, the bottom is scoured by the dragging of numerous anchors and chains, and I did not expect to see anything of any consequence in this area.  But the closer I got to the bottom, the more little fish I could see, and all sorts of little creatures scurrying around.  Edie describes it as, the water was so clear that you could see a crab walking around on the bottom from the cockpit.

I understand that the real sights to see underwater are near the rocks at each end of the bay, and around the point on the west end of the island.  Brian and Carrie on the sailing vessel Copernicus, a couple hailing from Canada that we had met in La Paz, came to visit and told diving stories about the area.  Edie and Nicky had found a skeleton of a moray eel on the beach when they went kayaking and shelling, and were telling Brian about it.  Brian said that he had been searching the area for a moray eel reported to be near 10 feet long, and friendly to divers.  I told Brian to be sure and take a lot of pictures, because I had no intention of getting to know that eel personally.

Agua Verde

After a casual 4 days of enjoying San Francisco, our entourage decided to work its way north toward Loreta, with a stopover in Agua Verde.   Agua Verde is a popular anchorage about 50 miles north of Isla San Francisco.  There is a large bay complete with a village and a tienda  that has fresh vegetables sometimes as often as twice a week.  The bay is fairly protected from the northern winds, at least in the protected cove to the north.  Because we needed phone and internet service for some necessary business, we decided to only stay the night at Agua Verte, and make for Puerto Escondido (Loreta) in the morning.  Voyager and Seychelles wanted to stay over and visit the sights around Agua Verde.  Seafood can be purchased directly from the fishermen as they come in for the day,  and the area is famous for prehistoric cave paintings that I would love to see.  Edie and I both pledged to come back for a longer visit. 

We were sitting calmly at anchor there in Agua Verde when a gentleman came by in a dingy heading to the village.  He was a Canadian named Ian from the sailing vessel Kasassa.  We had often been told about the people we would meet when we are out sailing; how friendly everyone is, and interesting.  Ian stopped by just to say hello, and welcome us to the anchorage.  You’d think by the way he greeted us and talked to us that he was a one man resident welcoming committee.  Turns out he had been there for 4 days with no other people around, then 3 boats show up together so he wanted to talk. 

Ian suggested that we definitely wanted to hike in the hills surrounding the bay, that the views were outstanding and we certainly shouldn’t miss the grasshoppers.  It turns out that with all the rain that the Baja had received this season the grasshoppers were somewhere near plague level, and if you walked in the hills that you could scare up amazingly large swarms of grasshoppers, so thick that the cloud that spews up when you walk through them actually blocks out the sun.  I was really sorry to have missed that.  Although this is probably a once in a lifetime occurrence to see a plague of grasshoppers, our business in Loreta took precedence.

It has rained so much in the Baja this past year than even the old timers could not remember a wetter time, and as a result the desert has changed.  Things are green.  I have become accustomed to the desert being brown, and it is hard to conceive that brown could be beautiful, but it is.  Now that it has rained some 26 inches in the last few months, there is grass growing everywhere.  The mountains are green, the desert is green and plant life shows a vigor that is very healthy and sturdy.  Stories have been told for months now about driving down the Baja and encountering massive clouds of yellow butterflies that totally dominate the area.  The stories tell of such a build-up of butterflies on one’s windshield that one had to stop and scrape them off to see to drive.

There is a frog found near a town called Centenario, just outside the city of La Paz, that is legendary among those who know about it.   It is said that the frog sleeps about 15 feet below the surface of the ground, and only wakes up and comes to the surface when the conditions are extremely wet, and the ground becomes saturated.  It has been such a long time since these frogs have been seen, that even the stories of the frogs had almost been forgotten.   But now the frogs have written a new chapter in the memory of the residents of Centenario, one that will likely be remembered for some time to come.  A story that will be passed down though many generations of Mexicans to come.

Larry's version of sailing to Loreto - Part I

Edie has asked me to comment on our recent sailing trip to Loreto, and when I mentioned this to George McDermott during a phone conversation, he suggested that I tell the story from the male perspective.  I’m not sure that I am going to do that, but I would like to talk about my observations, experiences and reactions to things we experienced and obviously lived through.  Even though I was there also, I enjoy reading Edie’s account of the trip and relive it through her stories.  So I will attempt to tell about the trip a little differently.

The whole purpose of our being in Mexico originally was to buy this boat, Milagro, and to prepare her for a great sailing adventure across the South Pacific to some never-never land.  I had not intended for this process to last two years, but here we are.  We’ve worked hard in updating the boat with new electronics, radar, GPS, auto pilot, depth sounders, AIS receivers, Shortwave transceivers, new plumbing, new electrical, lots of new paint, and the list goes on and on.  Although I did make a trip with a couple from Canada, across the Sea of Cortez to Mazatlan last year, I knew when we made the trip, that the boat was not as it should have been, and although we had no autopilot and other systems were still compromised, with a great deal of fortitude, we made the trip and enjoyed the experience.  This trip to Loreto was to be the real shakedown cruise for Milagro, for now the systems are essentially complete and solid.  In addition to that, the trip was most important because Edie was trying out big water sailing, for the second time.  The first was a failed trip to Mazatlan almost a year ago, when the boat did not perform well, and the seas became brutal, and winds were ripping at us for about 36 hours.  During that trip Edie had a difficult time with sea sickness, and questioned her physical abilities to deal with such dramatic elements.  The only good that came from that trip was that Edie found out that she could manage her fear, something that seemed to overtake her when it came to sailing.  I was very proud of her for that.

Passage making has always been my favorite type of sailing.  I especially enjoy night sailing.  I like going around the clock, open seas, sunrise, sunset and all that comes between.  On a clear night, and beyond the influence of artificial light, the stars are so magnificent, it oftn defies words.  And when the moon is just right, it is bright enough to read a book in the cockpit.  So one of the major objectives of this trip was to conduct part of the trip as an overnight sail, and give Edie the opportunity to experience the part I love best.

Getting ready to snub the anchor

When we first started the trip, our intention had been to be alone, not subject to any others influences, but before we got out of La Paz we ran across two other boats with similar plans to our own.  The other boaters were Bill and Julie from California on Voyager, and John and Nicky from Alaska, on Seychelles.  After being in anchorages on Caleta Partita at Candlero, and again on Isla San Francisco, we began to enjoy knowing that we had friends close by, and upon occasion, visiting, and doing things with them.  Bill was especially helpful when I put together my hooka system (scuba dive gear), and was about to use it for the first time.  I am not a diver and I needed all the help that I could get.  I had to learn about buoyancy, and weight belts, and he gave me good insight into what to expect as I went deeper.  John, Bill and Julie were wonderful when it came to sharing weather information with us.  Good weather information and understanding is critical when you are traveling on the water. 

I have been to the islands just outside La Paz many times, and each time I have marveled at the amazing geological displays that we see there.  You can look at the layers of volcanic activity, and see the periods in history when the land was obviously underwater, but in all cases the many colors in the layers of the earth tell stories that the least scientific of us can marvel about.  The orange then yellow, mingled with deep black, then red layers paints pictures of history and dramatic happenings.  The erosion,  and corrosion of the rock faces look like alien writing on cliff walls, and inspire belief that the earth is trying to tell us something.

Roco Monumento

Although the islands are only about 20 miles long there are many coves and protected areas  where the water gets shallow enough for dropping an anchor and cruisers go there and spend weeks and even months, just hanging out. The sea life, the birds, the predators and the food chain all play out daily and nightly.  Just to the north of the island is the rock called Los Islotes, where a colony of sea lions live.  We always take the opportunity the visit the sea lions.  I have been in several of the anchorages, but my favorite has become Candlero.  In the middle of the anchorage there is a huge rock that sticks out of the water and is several hundred feet tall.  It is a great place to watch and listen to the birds.  The beach is long and white sandy and easy to land on with the dingy, and just behind the beach are mountains, or at least really big hills, that , can be scaled by the most hardy of us.  I did it once and the views were spectacular, but I was wearing Crocs, the rocks were too big, and I did not make it to the top.  But I did get some great pictures of Milagro sitting at anchor, and the scrapes, scratches and bruises were all worthwhile by the amazing view from horizon to horizon.

The islands are basically the dividing line between the Bay of La Paz and the Sea of Cortez.   Leaving the islands on our way to Isla San Francisco will be the first time that we came into the actual Sea of Cortez.  Although we could see land far away, it had the feel of being offshore and making passage.  To me this is what sailing is about, and for the first time we had enough wind to sail, although it was marginal.  To me the most pleasant sound is when you shut off the ole diesel engine, and listen to the sails, and the wind in the rigging working together to carry us across the water.  It is an incredibly satisfying feeling when all these elements conspire together.