SV Gallant Fox

I'm Not Laughing AT Them; I'm Laughing NEAR Them.

Every cruising port has an informal cruisers' net on some VHF frequency or another where general cruising and port information is exchanged.  La Paz boasts a second cruisers' net - this one, on VHF 21 about a half hour before the more standard cruisers' net starts on VHF 22 at 0800 Monday thru Saturday.  Both are radio shows that Should Not Be Missed.

The VHF 21 net has a net controller as is typical; but the topics for discussion are more political in nature.  Most participants are clearly expatriate boaters or former boaters - all male and single, from what I heard - from the US or Canada, that the US Social Security Administration would classify as "of advanced age."  From what they say on the daily net, most of these men have lived in La Paz for many years.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.

The VHF 21 net started off just fine - a free-format discussion of current events in Mexico and the US where both right-wing and left-wing views seemed to be welcomed and respected.  One gentleman remarked that he had just seen a computer demonstration of a "new" type of satellite software called Google Earth, that could zero in on and show a clear picture of your "property" or your car; he further remarked for the listening audience that "for a price" you could get a satellite to focus so closely on your area, in real time, that "the satellite picture could count the hairs on your head."

Then things got weird. Another participant offered that he had been in the US military in 1959* ** and knew the type of "brain-control experiments"** the US military was performing on the public back then; and certainly by now "the government" must be using satellites with hyper-sophisticated software applications like Google Earth to alter the public's brain cells "molecule by molecule."** "The government's" aim, as I understood it, was to make the public more compliant. With something. By altering brain structure or DNA or something. From outer space. But nobody explained why 75-year-old men in busted boats semi-floating in La Paz, Mexico's harbor would be targeted to comply with the vague agenda of an unnamed government that may or may not be Mexico. I was tempted to break in and share that aluminum reflects those brain rays so everyone should wear a tin foil hat at all times, but I thought I wouldn't sound sincere enough for that bunch. Plus the female voice might be a giveaway.

* Yes: 1959. ** I am not making this up.

m

La Paz

So when we arrived in La Paz on March 5 we arranged to stay at Marina Costa Baja, located a few miles to the north of La Paz proper.  The livin' here is pretty sweet - for the price of 2006 moorage in Shilshole Marina in Seattle, you get free (and excellent) Internet service, free potable water and pump-out facilities at every slip (shore power is charged separately), free onshore showers, and free shuttle service to downtown and beyond.  The docks are new and, amusingly, built by the same Bellingham company that has been/is rebuilding the docks at Shilshole.  Restaurants surrounding the marina are pricey but generally worth it - especially Restaurante Gula - and the small chandlery at the marina is better-stocked than most chandleries we've seen in other Mexican cities.  The marina's water must be clean because a mated pair of osprey have nested on top of a power pole opposite the marina fairway.   Because of its location, getting in and out of Marina Costa Baja to cruise the islands to the north is faster & easier than the anchorage or other marinas in central LaPaz.  I am not surprised that cruisers come here and never leave; some even stay for hurricane season although I am not familiar with Marina Costa Baja's  hurricane plan so can't recommend that, specifically.  This first view on the right looks out from the marina toward the big-boat slips and the marina entrance - fuel dock (easiest-access fuel dock we've seen in almost a year) is off to the right, where that giant Turkish charter sailboat is tied up:

Here's a view looking back into the smaller-boat portion of the marina which winds around behind the Hotel Fiesta - the Fox was moored in here.  So calm, it looks like a swimming pool (and is about that deep - heh).

GB and I didn't want to waste any more time in marinas after having spent so  long in Mazatlan, so we got aggressive with the boat chores.  Aside from the usual boat cleaning, laundry, fueling, and provisioning at various markets in town, GB and I completed the following projects:

Clean & inspect the bow's knotmeter that had been clogged with sea growth since Mazatlan.  Purchase & install dinghy wheels - and buy bicycle pump to inflate tires on aforementioned dinghy wheels.  Sewing:  repair sun-damaged threads along dodger.  Repair 2 small storage bags, fabricate one more small storage bag & one Sunbrella cover for BBQ's propane tank.  Fabricate Sunbrella-and-plastic cover for ignition panel in cockpit.  Change oil in engine & transmission.  Arrange 2 mail shipments, fail at one.  Search for 2 medications, fail at one.  Replace depth markers on anchor rode.  Clean & wax topsides, polish stainless steel.  Change oil in & flush dinghy motor.  Dive on & clean growth from bow thrusters & tubes.  Whew.  This may not sound like much to accomplish in 10 days, but living on a boat in a foreign port, every task takes much longer than it does when you have a house, car and all the conveniences.  But, our time here has been well spent and thanks to GB's hard work the Fox is clean and shiny, ready for cruising the Sea  of Cortez.

We did a bit of turismo in La Paz - visited their cathedral, municipal mercado, & the regional museum of anthropology; stumbled into a medical-supplies store where I scored the back brace my Mazatlan neurosurgeon had told me to use while sailing; found a barber who gave GB an excellent haircut for 40 pesos (equals less than US $4); and bought some mezcal from a Oaxacan purveyor of fine liquor.  Like other Mexican cities, La Paz has beautiful bronze sculptures all over the place - I was really taken by this trio of musicians whose bodies were encased in seashells.  And check out one of the sand sculptures along La Paz's malecon:

La Paz also seems to have a thriving construction industry; Costa Baja is part of a resort that is planning a golf course, condos and whatnot on the hills surrounding the marina (so long, ospreys), but this and other development projects sure keep a lot of people working.  Still, though, come see La Paz soon if you can - it's dry & sunny (great for asthmatics!) with lots to do and see and eat.  Get you some.

m

Into the Sea of Cortez

In February, we chose to travel no further south than Banderas Bay and the greater Puerto Vallarta area - mainly because we'd intended to return north to explore the Sea of Cortez as spring began and we didn't want to have to tax our poor selves overmuch beating back to weather for hundreds of miles.  Many cruisers do, sailing back north from points as far south as Manzanillo.  We are not those people.

After having a good time with cruising friends in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, we retraced our path back north around Punta de Mita to Chacala for an overnight anchorage, then north to Bahia de Matanchen where we anchored for 2 nights, followed by a quick morning fuel-up at the dock in the San Blas estuary, and a close-hauled overnight sail in progressively-dwindling light air back to Mazatlan.  Total distance for this portion of the trip back north:  about 205 miles.

We wanted to keep moving toward the eastern side of Baja so we anchored in Mazatlan's old harbor for only two nights,  waiting for a weather window to make the crossing of the southern Sea of Cortez from Mazatlan to one of our favorite Baja anchorages, Bahia de los Frailes.  We entertained ourselves by watching the commercial and military vessels enter and leave the narrow jetty to the harbor.  Like this Mexican Navy vessel shown on the right over here, that Mexico may have bought used from another country - not that there's anything wrong with that:

Due to the inoperative status of our Black Hole of Suck Si-Tex HF/SSB receiver, we relied on the kindness of our good friends, Linda and Geoff on Curare, to give us a weather relay from Don Anderson and the cruisers' nets.  Curare came through and the forecast winds of generally 15-20 from the NW agreed with the point forecast we retrieved from our Skymate account.  I was a little concerned about the point forecast's predicted seas of 4' to 5' at intervals of 4 to 5 seconds, coming mainly from the north but reversing to the south for part of a day (which for all you lubbers out there equals a rolly, generally uncomfortable chop given the direction we'd be traveling).  Although it seemed a little sooner than customary to start cruising the Sea of Cortez, for early March the forecast looked as good as it was going to get for a while so GB and I thought what the hey.

The chilly overnight trip (160 miles as the crow flies, about 176 miles for us given our point of sail) started out as expected:  close-hauled under increasing breezes as we neared the center of the crossing.  However, we were pushing through that chop the point forecast had described, and it does not take much water coming at you in the wrong direction to slow your boat down.  (The first wave doesn't have much effect - it's the second wave...and the third...and the thousandth...)  Plus, the one aspect that both Don Anderson and the point forecast failed to nail on the head was the direction of the wind:  the predicted NW breeze would have given us a decent sailing direction and a bit better speed -- but the actual wind was straight out of the west - right on the nose with the NW-reversing-to-SW chop on the beam.  Mal-de-mer ensued.  The wind fizzled (as Don Anderson predicted) at about midnight so the Iron Genoa was pressed into service.  The next morning, the wind increased the closer we got to the Baja shore; by the time we entered the relatively sheltered Bahia de los Frailes it was gusting to 33 knots from the north -- inside the bay, in the lee of the shore.  Anchoring was without incident (thanks, 30Kg Bruce and 300 feet of chain!) but the wind pinned us and a couple other boats down for 2-1/2 days before finally quieting down enough for us to comfortably snorkel and dinghy about.

When the weather improved we scooted north - in fog - to the next good anchorage at Ensenada de los Muertos (referencing not dead guys but dead-man mooring anchors) -- where we and a few other boats again got pinned down by a norther for a couple of days.  One aspect of sailling in the Sea of Cortez is that, when the wind blows, the  seas get high very rapidly - but when the wind diminishes the seas lie down quickly.  We'd tried to leave Muertos a day early but heading the Fox directly into a norther did not appear prudent given the sea state at that time.  (Oh, the Fox could have handled it; the crew's a little weak.)(Plus, if waiting one day makes for a far more comfortable trip, it's silly to knock yourself out, know what I mean?) (And, later, we met a fellow in La Paz who told us he had been underway during that same norther, and he had been struggling with wind blowing in the 50s.)(So it seems we made the right decision.)

Once the weather turned decent again we rounded the peninsula from Muertos through San Lorenzo Channel, dodging a Baja Ferry and a couple of commercial shrimpers, and dropping the anchor amongst 4 other sailboats in Balandra Cove a mere 9 miles from La Paz.  This pretty cove is very popular with both boaters and RVers - white sand beaches, turquoise water, sea caves, rocks, snorkeling, etc.  However the wind came up yet again at about midnight, this time from the WSW and the weather forecast over the VHF local cruisers' net sounded suboptimal, so by morning we felt it best to proceed directly to La Paz and save Balandra for a look-see on our way back north toward the islands in the Sea of Cortez.  Join us in La Paz, won't you?

m

Sappy Moments in Cruising

OK; it's either "sappy," or "cheesy," or possibly "trite," "corny," or "unimaginative."  But here's another post where I describe sights we've seen that are so tacky with the telling, you'd think you were reading a cruising magazine or something.  This is the kind of stuff boating fantasies are made of.

We begin with a classic photo GB took of frigate mom and new babe on Isla Isabela.  Wouldn't you just love to see this adorable little fuzzball yourself???  You could - Isla Isabela about as far from Mazatlan as Montague Harbour is from Seattle.  Come see.

The experiences are wonderful Out Here.  Brilliant green meteorite flashes on night passages.  The aroma of flowers when approaching the Mexican mainland.  A seagull hitching a ride across open water on the back of a sea turtle.  The big fish in bright colors you see while snorkeling.  Pangueros fishing at dawn.  Hot pink sunsets.  White sand beaches and blue water.  We have encountered at least 5 species of whale since leaving Seattle - and if they'd just slow down and get closer to the boat I might  be able to positively identify them.  I'm willing to learn - but unless the whales and all these other animals start wearing T-shirts or holding up signs with their names on them, I'm not likely to know for sure what I'm looking at.  Look to the right here - this is the only whale I've found that's held still enough for a picture:

We've been sailing north back to Mazatlan in light air at night, and watched a humpback whale breach three times near us by the light of a full moon.  Things can be that beautiful Out Here.

Every other cruiser you meet automatically has much in common with you, and friendships form fast.  And when things go wrong, cruisers circle the wagons and really do take care of one another.  It's very different from the social dynamic in most US cities, and it's fun to be a part of it all, antisocial as I am.

Then there are the black-and white manta rays that always lift my spirits when they burst out of the water and do cartwheels and backflips.  GB and I have taken to calling them "flying carpets."  I've given a lot of thought to the mantas because they live throughout the Pacifc from southern California to Peru - yet the only ones we've seen doing the acrobatics are along a roughly 50-mile stretch of southeast Baja coastline from Cabo San Lucas to Bahia de los Frailes.  I do not believe they jump out of the water to get rid of parasites or stun their prey (small fish, shrimps & plankton) because if either were the case I'd expect them to just jump and splash back down in a belly-flop instead of executing their complicated flipping maneuvers.  Also, the Baja mantas do these leaps day or night, calm weather or windy.  There is only one logical conclusion to all this behavior:

It's a religious cult.

I figure, if humans can have their Quakers, their Shakers and their Holy Rollers, it stands to reason that mantas have their Baja Backflippers.  Leaping out of the water and turning upside-down is their way of getting closer to their god.  And the more flips a manta can execute, the holier s/he is - which would explain why so many of them try so hard for a double-reverse flip:  they're the True Believers.

These are the kinds of things you experience Out Here - so if you have the desire to travel by boat but still have some trepidation about taking that final voyage out from your home port into the unknown, don't fret.  Come on down this way - the water's fine.

m

Banderas Bay

Moving 21 miles south from Bahia de Matanchen we stopped briefly at the rolly anchorage of Chacala.  This one definitely requires bow and stern anchors to reduce the boat's motion by keeping the boat bow-to the incoming swell.  When we anchored there, there did not appear to be significant current - we and other folks swam in and around the boats at anchor with no problem - but neither GB nor I are much for big rolls when we're trying to get some sleep.  So despite the short day trip from Matanchen, and although I enjoyed the swimming, and even though other cruisers rave about its beautiful beaches, fancy houses, and fine palapa restaurants, the rolliness of the anchorage impels me to give Chacala a large "Meh". 

The 40 or so miles from Chacala in to Banderas Bay were spectacular for critters - specifically, many whales (singing humpbacks, even!) and dozens of sea turtles on the move.  However, I was a bit underwhelmed at Banderas Bay and the Puerto Vallarta area in general.  This mood may have had something to do with the fact that Puerto Vallarta is a very popular cruising and racing destination, which naturally tends toward overhype the way Cabo San Lucas and (presumably) Acapulco do.  Or it could have something to do with the fact that we had had some equipment go kerflooey, we took a bus in to Puerto Vallarta to try and find replacement parts at the stores that had the most appropriate and biggest inventories, and we came away empty-handed.  Or it could be that the boat-related items we saw that were available, like dinghies (for US $4500) and fishing tackle (lures for US $30), were being sold at the largest marine store at about twice the US prices.  Whatever the reason for my mood, I'm willing at some time in the future to give Puerto Vallarta another chance - as long as I'm not buying any boat gear.  But it might be hard to do that when the northeasternmost edge of Banderas Bay is home to La Cruz de Huanacaxtle.*

La Cruz has a pretty good (albeit fetchy in the afternoon) anchorage outside of a brand-new, still-being-built marina called Marina Riviera Nayarit.  We hid in there for a few days while we tried (in vain) to sort out the nonessential equipment breakdowns.  Here's our consumer review of the marina:  Docks are in good shape and well marked, and as expensive as at least some of the other marinas in Puerto Vallarta proper.  Shore power and water are available at each slip for an extra charge but water is non-potable.  Onshore showers and restrooms are free, large, clean and with plenty of hot water.  Staff is friendly and will help you check in with the port captain and harbormaster.  No fuel dock, but fuel and water delivery can be arranged nearby.  I heard one cruiser be concerned over how well the docks and breakwaters will survive a hurricane, but I guess in these parts you never know until a hurricane drops down on top of you.   The town of La Cruz itself has excellent restaurants and music venues(find where the 3 young gentlemen who comprise "Tatewari" are playing their African-Latin-flamenco music), and an outstanding gallery of Huichol art, and you can get all your provisioning done either in La Cruz or within a short bus ride.  Personally?  Unless I had a significant repair problem with the boat that required a lot of work by experts in Puerto Vallarta itself, I would return to Marina Riviera Nayarit and spend all my tourist pesos in La Cruz and neighboring Bucerias.  Check it out.

* Pronounced sort of like "wan-a-cahsh-lay."

m

What Hasn't Worked - The Little Things

As I was saying previously...The Fox is so new and well-built that very little has yet gone kerflooey.  The 6-item list below comprises stuff that is not especially essential to sailing but makes life aboard more comfy -- if all works according to spec.  However, here's the preliminary disclaimer, again, to forestall any unpleasantness because I'm critical of certain products:  this post reflects the opinion of one boating couple only - individual results may vary and what is written below is based solely on our personal experience.  So, if you feel my public criticism of your product is unduly harsh?  Work with us to fix your product.

1.  The SMEV stove.  This small Italian cooker, used in both boats and motor trailers, was installed in the Fox when it was built.  With typical recreational use - that is, some weekend boat or RV trips and a few longer vacations here and there - the SMEV would be just fine.  Unfortunately, 24/7/365 liveaboard use is far more intensive; and frankly, SMEV never encountered the likes of The Propane Chef.  Who wore out the burners on the stove.  In less than three years of living aboard.  Now, the burners were not made out of bronze and US propane's reportedly higher moisture content relative to Euro propane might have been a contributing factor in their demise.  The burner elements were impossible to repair or replace because (1) there were no parts we could get in the US, and (2) the burners were so integral to the cooktop itself that repair and replacement would be difficult at best.  Furthermore, the SMEV oven and 2-burner cooktop cooked at lower temperatures than The Propane Chef prefers and the oven had uneven heat which brought a frowny face to him when baking and roasting.  So, in January 2006 GB replaced the SMEV with Force 10's European Compact 2-burner gimballed range.  The Force 10 burners, made of bronze, last longer and are easier to replace if they fail.  The burners and oven cook evenly and at higher temps than the SMEV although of course with a higher burn rate.  Nevertheless, the Force 10 is a thing of beauty.  Other boaters, however, have warned us that the oven's ceramic broiler element becomes brittle and crumbles into pieces inside the oven, but so far we have experienced very little of this.  [it just adds crunch and flavor to certain dishes. - gb]  We'll keep cyberspace posted on developments.

2.  The NightOwl Optics night vision scope was a bit of an indulgence - but we felt a hand-held optical device could help us identify rocks, boats and other potential hazards if when we got caught having to enter an anchorage (especially an unfamiliar one)(in areas where the charts are inaccurate)(like, most of the world) after dark.  Now that we're in Mexico, it's clear that a night scope could be handy - for example, in the very popular anchorage in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, just outside of and partially blocking access to the entrance to Marina Riviera Nayarit, in upper Banderas Bay and near very busy Puerto Vallarta.  When we were anchored in La Cruz in mid-February I counted 42 other sailboats at anchor - and at night, only 16 of them used anchor lights.  I sure would hate to not see an unlit boat, but I don't want to cheese off the occupants by indiscreetly shining our million-candle-power spotlight on them.

Anyway, one of the reputable boat-gear-reviewing publications indicated the NightOwl scope was an OK product for the US $400 or so that it cost in 2004 dollars.  Sadly, though, we have been unable to get it to function to our expectations.  The first red flag was that it came with no instructions.  The second red flag was that there were no instructions online.  The third red flag was that it seems to have a range of about 25 feet - suboptimal for our 40-foot boat.  And yes; I remembered to put the batteries in it before I tried to look through the viewfinder.  Sheesh.  So, the thing doesn't work and we're back to our 2-part strategy of (1) never entering a port or anchorage after dark and (2) when we enter a port or anchorage after dark, using that million-candle-power spotlight.

3.  The Mobella door latches sold by Southco.  These beautiful, un-cheap latches are installed on all 4 of the doors below decks; the 2 to the head and the shower compartment have locks.  With the typical use of most boaters on occasional and short recreational trips, these latches present no problem.  With liveaboard use, though, the petite, delicate metal spring "engines" in the inside latch mechanism wear -- and break, making the door impossible to latch.  Could be pesky while underway.  GB has had to replace 5 door engines in the 5 years we have lived aboard, at a cost of about US $25 per.  The last one to break was the locking latch to the head, which broke in the "locked" position, trapping GB inside.  Hilarity would have ensued with me passing tools in to him through the head's porthole, had he not previously installed an access door leading from the head into our capacious starboard lazarette, through which he escaped back to the outside.  Our spares kit still includes 4 door engines, so at the rate of one engine per year we figure we have about 3 years before we order some more engines through our very wonderful and kind broker.

4.  The CO detectors.  Installed when the boat was new, they do a nice job of chiming (actually it's more of a "SQUEEEEE!") when noxious fumes are present in the galley or the cabins.  Like that time we were tied up at Victoria, BC's Inner Harbour and the CO alarms went off to alert us that the fumes from the float planes idling at the dock next door, were rapidly killing us.  Unfortunately, everything has a life span and these wee CO detectors are no different.  It seems that they are somehow programmed to die, by chiming at 2 AM even when no fumes are present.  The poor things never go off when either of us is normally awake.  So, until we can figure out how & where to get the parts necessary to revive them, they are disabled.  There's only so many fire drills the two of us can tolerate.

5.  The WiFi pigtail is a most delicate connection between our long-range (up to 5 mi. on a good day) antenna and our laptop du jour.  We use to this wireless Internet connection when we can, to download weather info and pay our monthly bill; if connectivity stays good after we do our business I like to catch up on world events by reading www.fark.com.  (Lord knows what GB surfs for.)  The weakest point of our wireless world is this slim little wire with a tiny gold-colored screw about 1/16" long that inserts into the laptop.  Guess what:  with repeated and long term use, it breaks - lucky for us the bits did not get irretrievably stuck in the laptop.  Hey, guess what again:  virtually no computer components can be readily obtained outside the US (at least, south o' the border), and this particular pigtail is even hard to get in the US.  Suddenly, without our tenuous wireless link to the Intertubes, we were thrust back technologically into, like, 12th-century Romania.  Lucky for us, we have a good relationship with the nice folks at BroadbandXpress in Seattle and they were great at shipping us some replacement pigtails which we had sent to us - for a price - via DHL.  Moral of the story:  if you will be traveling internationally from the US or other high-tech country, stock up on computer and electronic repair and replacement parts, especially the fragile stuff, before you leave - everything from WiFi pigtails to laptop batteries are very hard or impossible to come by elsewhere, without either spending time and money in a marina waiting for your mail to arrive, or taking a trip back home.

So there you have it - we're lucky that so little has busted, and is relatively so easy to remedy.  The Fox is really one heck of a boat.

m

What Hasn't Worked - The One Important Thing

Some time ago I posted a stream-of-consciousness list of some of the things that have worked well for us on the Fox after a full year of cruising.  Now's time to discuss what has not worked.

Fortunately, there has not been much that has broken or not worked according to expectations.  I feel that's partly to do with the fact that the Fox at 6 years old is a relatively new boat; built and designed by an outstanding Swedish yard whose customer service is lifelong and first-rate (thanks again, Malo!); well maintained by GB and me; and...lived-in 24/7/365 for 5 years - I would recommend to anyone, to live aboard your boat for at least one full year before setting off, because certain things on a boat behave differently when subjected to liveaboard use as opposed to casual vacation-style sailing, and it's valuable to trouble-shoot as many systems as you can before going international.

Before I identify what has not worked, here's the disclaimer to any potentially disgruntled boat-gear provider who might take offense at publication in cyberspace of their product:  following is the opinion of one boating couple only - individual results may vary and what is written below is based solely on our personal experience.  So, if you feel my criticism of your product is unduly harsh? Deal with it.

Only one item has not worked on the Fox, that I feel is important to safe cruising:  our weather-retrieval electronics.  All I wanted for weather forecasts offshore, was the ability to receive coherent weather information either from a known weather provider or other cruisers, so that I could compare the real-time information with various versions of GRIB files to which we have access.  I really didn't care whether or not I could transmit to other boats.  I wanted to keep the weather info retrieval simple and cheap - which on a boat means "anything less than a couple grand."  In our case we bought a Si-Tex SSB/high-frequency "communications receiver"-plus-software package for about $500 in 2004 US dollars, on the suggestion of one of those weekend cruising seminars that shall remain nameless.  (John Neal's - somewhat of a waste of time, very expensive as it's basically a 2-day advertisement for his offshore sailing courses, but frightfully entertaining, especially since MS won a prize there.  -gb).

This Si-Tex unit is so utterly full of FAIL it's hard to describe - but let me try.  The rate of suck of this non-functioning unit is equalled only by Si-Tex's complete absence of customer service.  Initially the unit looked OK - small and easily incorporated into our nav station, nice dial that spins through all the SSB frequencies, ability to retrieve weather faxes with a download of the appropriate software - what's not to like?  Well:  initially all we got was radio static except for the Christian fundamentalist frequencies (i.e., no thank you), and the Si-Tex P.O.S. never - yes, NEVER - worked well enough to even download the software it needs to perform its weather-fax functions.  If that weren't enough suck, the software & Si-Tex people reassured us that the problem was that we were in Seattle and there was too much radio interference there to allow the P.O.S. to function.  All we needed to do, they said, was get out of town and the receiver would work just fine.  Yeah.  Well.

Seattle does, in fact, have a lot of radio interference so we gave Si-Tex the benefit of the doubt.  But, the Si-Tex continued to suck all around Vancouver Island and down the US west coast - no reception except for the Jesus Channels, sometimes - but that was again easily explained because in certain areas of coastal BC, nothing - not even VHF - functions because of the remoteness/topography/trees/ Bigfoot/space alien interference.  Lucky for us, BC and the US have excellent government weather forecasting entities whose information can actually be heard over the VHF and is easily interpreted.  We also had enough opportunities to access unsecured WiFi with our long-range antenna, that we could occasionally retrieve weather-map and forecast info from NOAA.  So, we let the Si-Tex P.O.S. languish until we left Ensenada for a slow trip to Mazatlan.

The Si-Tex actually functioned during this 3-week leg of our voyage - marginally.  Most days if there were no other ambient noise on the boat or anywhere nearby on the Baja Peninsula, we could juuust barely hear a morning SSB weather forecast - but other boaters told us they consistently got better reception and volume with their non-Si-Tex gear using the same frequencies we did.  Meh - we adapted to what little we had and used the Si-Tex until we got to Mazatlan.  Whereupon the damn thing died completely and irreversibly.  Oh, you can still spin the dial and the frequency numbers show up on the pretty digital display, but there is no sound - at all.  Which is kind of important in a RADIO RECEIVER.

GB contacted Si-Tex about this, and their replies were - in chronological order:  We discontinued that unit, it's obsolete, we provide no support for it (but, GB told them, you're still selling it on your Web site); oh - yeah, we do still sell it so ship the unit back to us with an extra 39 bucks and for the $39 we'll give you an estimate of how much it will cost to fix it and negotiate later whether we fix the unit or junk it; (GB said, we bought it online from a reputable company, does that make a difference?) Oh, in that case just work with whoever our distributor is and don't bug us any more.  Gee, thanks, Si-Tex.

Moral of the story:  we paid $500 for an HF/SSB receiver that functioned - poorly - for only three weeks, It never could download its own software.  It is now irreversibly dead.  Si-Tex really does not want to hear from customers or trouble-shoot their own products, and I can see why, if our experience is the norm.  Weather forecasts, as shaky as they are in these parts, are important to Miss Navigator here, so now we're looking at a far more expensive replacement by a more reputable provider with products that are more widely used.  Si-Tex took our dollars and gave nothing useful in return.  My advice to all of you:  never - EVER - buy any Si-Tex product.  They are a very large black hole of suck.

m

Bahia de Matanchen and San Blas

Our voyage from Mazatlan took us from Isla Isabela, 90 miles south, and then turned southeast following the curvature of mainland Mexico.  The weather was generally calm and even traveling downwind we were only able to sail about 2-1/2 hours before the wind dropped below 7 knots and the Fox's sails could not stay filled.  In a day's trip from Isla Isabela - after sailing and motorsailing - we anchored in the shallow* Bahia de Matanchen.  We enjoyed it so much we stayed five days (the first time), periodically going ashore by dinghy.  Once we were able to tear ourselves away from the fine cooking of Ismael and his family at Ramada Matanchenon the beach (grilled parrotfish, anyone?), we took a short taxi ride over to San Blas town and their new(er) church(es) for a look around before walking back out of town and climbing a nearby hill to examine San Blas's ruined church and the old fort buildings overlooking the San Blas estuary and jungle. 

GB sure enjoys military history, and his general knowledge of the fort's time period made the climb worthwhile.**  Even if it seemed that the big gold head of Benito Juarez was kinda out of place up there.

Another day found us taking the famed "jungle boat ride" up the estuary from Matanchen by panga.  Technically it's possible to drive your own dinghy up the estuary and just follow your nose around all the twists and turns, but there are a lot of snags and deadheads just under the water (no, I'm not talking about Jerry Garcia fans), visibility is poor because it's a flat estuary with few landmarks on shore,...and there's that pesky potential problem of encountering some of the estuary's larger residents in a soft, chewy dinghy driven by our soft,  chewy selves.  You see, this estuary trip ends at the local crocodile farm where salt water crocs are bred in captivity and then released to the selfsame estuary.  The half-day trip (via nice, fast, fiberglas panga) is great fun - I added a few new bird species to my life list (like this anhinga  and limpkin) and saw all kinds of reptilian faces along the water's edge - the boa constrictors weren't much for having their picture taken, but check out these turtles.  And here's a shot of a fairly small, young croc getting some sun on a handy log - he's almost 6 feet long including the tail:

I love me some critters, and that's a fact.  Even if some of them are 14 feet long, like the female croc we saw at the water's edge in a shady grotto she'd made for herself.  [Memo to self:  when traveling in salt water jungle estuaries and spying a nice, flat, dry, leafy spot on shore that looks like a cushy place to beach the dinghy, remember a large crocodile has probably already called dibs on it.]  No; I did not get a picture of her, but here's a picture of Felipe, who's somewhat larger.   He's one of the...ahem, stud crocs at the farm.  We were told that your average well-fed croc is a pretty inert animal - and by that standard Felipe here seems to be very content.  I couldn't help but wonder, though:  wouldn't a hungry croc just stay still like a well-fed one does, and then nab you with one quick lunge when you bumbled too close?

Here's a shot of a coati (I think) who was running loose at the croc farm, digging for insects, lizards, snails or whatever.  And who among us can resist such subterranean cuisine?

Bottom line:  Bahia de Matanchen deserves its reputation as a destination for both cruisers and land travelers - there's a lot to see that's very different from practically everywhere else.  And everyone you meet, from the state police officers making their rounds, to the guys grilling fish at their beachside restaurants, are generous and kind to goofy gringos like us.  Almost everyone takes the time and has the inclination to get to know the visitors to their town and make us all feel welcome.  That's an example we should all follow.

* for sailors from the Pacific Northwest.  Northwest sailors break a sweat if the depth sounder shows less than 200 feet under the keel.  The typical Mexican anchorage's 15-to-20-foot depths still gives us the yips.  Whew.

** It's surprising how quickly one becomes un-used to cardiovascular activity and using one's legs when spending a lot of time on a boat.  Huffing and puffing was involved, you betcha.

m

The King of San Blas

In 2006, during our last rainy Seattle winter, I often read about San Blas in Latitude 38.  Several articles discussed, in both a positive and negative way, the activities of some fellow down there assisting cruisers.  At that time, San Blas might as well been on the back side of the moon, for all I knew about it.  As we've said in other posts we left Seattle in January 2007, wintered in Sidney, BC and rounded Cape Scott, the tip of Vancouver Island, on my 52nd birthday in early July, 2007. We spent a month traveling down the US coast, enjoying time in Newport, Eureka, Monterey and Oxnard, then waited out the last of hurricane season in October 2007 in Ensenada, Mexico.  I highly recommend this combination of overnight jumps, day sailing, and inshore sightseeing.  Many fellow cruisers who bombed straight down the US coast 100 miles offshore with no stops were slammed by high winds, storms and seas in September, but traveling like we did in “Foggust“ 20-30 miles offshore, made for a relatively pleasant if light-wind trip.  By the same token we took 21 days cruising south along the Pacific coast of Baja California toward Mazatlan on the Mexico mainland, seeing a lot of anchorages instead of hitting only the 2 or 3 more popular destinations.

Often, we were anchored alone off isolated fishing camps, brief indents in the coast, or dusty Baja towns - a trip not to be missed. We reached Mazatlan by Thanksgiving, enjoying the festivities at Marina Mazatlan while berthed at El Cid. Mazatlan is an enchanting town. We attended three events at the historic Angela Peralta Theatre, watched the Venados (the local baseball team) on TV, and hung around the old historical centro buying shrimp from the shrimp ladies. This town grabs you and will not let go - a great combination of a historical Mexican City and a “Gringo Gulch.”

February 2 found us - finally - in San Blas, about 130 miles south and east of Maz. We pulled into Matanchen Bay , and about 4:00 that afternoon we heard a voice on the radio - it was him - Norm Goldie - The Voice Of San Blas. “Are there any new boats here - lets have check-ins - I am here to help you.” Norm came on twice a day - 0800 and 1600, sometimes more often - offering his help and advice. We learned from Norm how to enter the San Blas estuary; how to keep our possessions safe; that he hung out with Lee Marvin in the 1970’s; that he’d had a heart operation; and which repairs we should get from whom in San Blas. He arranged tours to orphanages, waterfalls, and the jungle. Norm is a full service travel agent, taxi dispatcher, tour guide, fishing guru, and a veritable encyclopedia of local knowledge - he hangs out at the plaza every night - after which he says he is up all night coordinating search and rescue. In the morning, he gives out his map with cake and coffee to all cruisers who come by his house. Clearly, Norm thought he was the King of San Blas, controlling access to all who entered his domain.

Well - this was a revelation - I had heard so much about Norm from Latitude 38 and here he was - it was a bit overwhelming. He advised everybody that they had to go and check in with the Port Captain in person. MS is fluent in Spanish [eh - actually not so much, but I get by. - MS] - she called up the port captain on the radio and checked in and out with him - most convenient.  We advised Norm about this and he said the regulations must have changed yesterday.

Anyway - we were sitting in Matanchen Bay and heard a radio hail - a cruiser was coming in with a finger half cut off and needed medical care. We advised him we would alert Ismael - he runs Ramada Matanchen, a beachside restaurant - for help to get him to a doctor. We had met Ismael the day before. He will watch your dinghy for you when you park it in front of his restaurant, arrange laundry, or let you use his shower facilities. Ismael was not there when we went ashore with the medical issue, but we talked to someone from his family and asked if she could arrange a taxi when the injured cruiser arrived - she said she would tell Ismael.  Well, the cruiser came in and Ismael was waiting for him.  Ismael took him to the hospital in San Blas in his own car, and waited until things were all sorted out to bring the cruiser back to Matanchen. We talked to Ismael the next day, and also met the cruiser to see how he was doing, and found all this out.

Norm acknowledged Ismael’s contribution to this rescue during his radio show the next day, but was not giving up his throne. He said he had heard of Ismael, but did not know him. By this time we had hung around long enough to find out who was the real King of San Blas - it was Ismael of Matanchen - the true cruiser’s friend.

Ismael is also a great cook . Here is the recipe for his specialty - wood grilled snapper.  Parrotfish or grouper will also do.

First:  Find a mangrove tree, cut it down, age the wood for one year.

Build a stone BBQ with a steel grate - burn a bunch of this hardwood down to coals.

Reverse butterfly a 2 kilogram snapper - this causes the fish to open like an accordion - bones on one side, two open filets side by side.

Score the filets with a cross hatch, then rub in a mixture of melted butter, Worchestershire sauce and salsa Huichol picante - no other hot sauce will do - since this one is made out of chile cascabel.

Smoke over the open coals for about 30 minutes - serve with shredded lettuce, rice and lots of tortillas.

Truly - a meal fit for a king.

BOOBIES GALORE!!

Yep.  It was inevitable.  The booby post.  This is where we experiment to see how much our blog traffic increases with all those adolescent saps Googling for pr0n in mom's basement, when we mention the word "boobies."  Here we go.

Isla Isabela has a fairly large population of at least two species of booby - the blue-footed booby, shown above; and the brown booby.  Here's a nice brown booby right here:   If blue-footeds are more your style, look at this fine pair of boobies:

Of course, for those who prefer multiple boobies, there are these brown boobies in family groups:

A booby's life is a hard one.  Boobies seem pretty docile but the teenage boobies like to try to land on top of sailboats' masts.  Which at first is all entertaining, until you realize that if the booby actually succeeds in landing on your mast, his weight will trash the wind instruments up there.  So then the hapless booby gets hollered at from down below.  Boobies are very aggressive and skilled divers for fish; unfortunately the frigates harass them for those fish without mercy.  Plus the frigates muscle the boobies out of the prime nesting spots on Isla Isabela.  Pity the poor boobies.  So much enterprise, so little reward.

m