Sea Venture's Journey

The latest from on board Sea Venture, sent by radio:

 
“We’re finally in Guatemalan waters, cruising about 30 miles offshore. Crossed over around 4:30 this morn. Dropped the Mexican flag for the last time at 4:45.  Adios, Mexico. We enjoyed you.

We’ve run into two fishing longlines so far today and one last night. They always catch on the bottom bracket of SV’s bobstay, forcing us to stop to clear the line from the bracket and then cross over it slowly…very slowly. Also had to detour around a frantic Pangero waving a light to keep us away from his long, floating net, which was deployed across our intended track. Saw lots of freighters heading towards El Salvador, but not a sign of the Mexican Navy picket boat we had been told to expect.

Seas are a bit rolly this morn, but not much wind. SV is doing well, although the aft bilge pump appears to have failed. Fortunately, I do have a spare.”

Sea Venture should be in El Salvadoran waters sometime tomorrow. I’m looking forward to pictures once they again have Internet.

We’d heard only that Huatulco was a good place to wait for a weather window before crossing the Tehuantapec, a bay known for terrible wind and waves. What we didn’t know is that it is a gem of a town. Michael called it the “Mexican version of what they imagine a gringo would like. They were spot-on, at least for this gringo!”

For one thing, Huatulco is probably the cleanest Mexican town we’ve encountered and one of the friendliest. The manager of Marina Chahue drove Michael on two trips to get fuel–and also provided larger jerry jugs–because they don’t yet have a fuel dock. Here, Mark oversees the fueling, which is the perfect job for a crew member. The Captain, instead, finds himself on his knees.

In this picture, you can see where the genoa track lifted. But even that worked for good, as it allowed Michael to find a much better sheeting angle further aft.

Michael couldn’t get over the way Huatulco’s city leaders care about their sidewalks. This is one area sadly mismanaged in most other Mexican towns where stumbling blocks litter the pavement. Not here, apparently. And, from the looks of things, the sidewalks are kept in pristine condition.

Here’s the main drag through town.

It costs $20 (pesos) to go anywhere in town by taxi. That’s less than two dollars US. And, according to Michael, the drivers all wear uniforms and the taxis are all well maintained — again, unusual.

Tour boats ready to go.

“Senor Puck’s Restaurant is a very nice,” writes Michael. “Most reasonably priced and located quite close to the Marina. We all enjoyed the food. It is run by three Canadian fellows, who are doing an excellent job of it.”

I’m not certain if this last is also Senor Puck’s, as Michael only titled it Beach-side Restaurant.

Sea Venture has now checked out of Mexico, after visits from Customs and Immigration. As we experienced everywhere in Pacific Mexico, the officials were friendly, helpful, and gracious. As the Immigration official stamped Michael’s FM3, he wished him a good voyage, and told Michael he’d see him on our next trip.

Oh, I hope so. I hate the thought that we’ll never go back. So many wonderful memories of our years there….

A number of cruisers suggested that the occasional sea turtle would appear en route south. Instead, hundreds greeted Sea Venture’s crew.

Thursday night they made it to the anchorage at Puerto Angel after several days at sea. Reputedly an excellent anchorage, Puerto Angel was so cluttered with pangas and mooring balls that Michael was only able to put out 3 to 1 scope, which forced him to spend the night on anchor watch in the cockpit.

On Friday, they headed a few hours away to their last port in Mexico: Huatulco.

It seems that Sea Venture’s crew encountered fog, fog, and more fog as they left Marina Mazatlan on Saturday, which meant good practice for the crew. Mark and Sandee had never steered by radar before, but if you have ever sailed northern California, you’ve  either used radar or experienced panic.

I remember Sea Venture’s fuel line clogging after too long at the dock. We were headed down the San Juaquin River toward SF Bay. Visibility was nill and the radar not yet working. Fortunately for us, we knew the river, knew the direction of safe landing, and could drift in the quiet water while Michael changed the filter. I must confess, though, that my ears were constantly on the alert for sounds of big engines that would signal the advent of a ship. I didn’t really expect one to be out that early, but…

That day, the fog lifted before we reached the Antioch bridge and oncoming traffic.  On our trip south from Ensenada, we used the radar to direct us into Bahia Assuncion as waves crashed against the beach a mile away and fog obscured the horizon. Most of our Sea of Cortez sailing has been coastal, with little reference to the radar, except when we’ve needed to gauge distance from a land mass, such as off the tip of Isla Carmen. The guide books mention a rock lying three feet below the surface somewhere about a mile and a half north of the island. Where? Oh, someplace up there. Which meant, of course, that one needed to stay two miles offshore. But the charts are offset by up to a mile in places, so we steered to the two-mile mark with the radar.  Good radar. Good boat. Nice rock.

Sea Venture pulled in behind a shrouded Stone Island. And now her crew has one more box ticked off on their need-to-learn chart. Michael is so pleased by their willingness and aptitude. It’s a good match.

The trip from Stone Island to Isla Isabella involved calm seas and no wind. But the men don’t seem too disturbed by the quiet, do they?

That’s Mark, enjoying the captain’s chair.

Sandee wrote of sea turtles on the way to the island and then hundreds more yesterday, as Sea Venture continued to Punta Mita. Boobies landed on the dozing turtles, most of which slept until disturbed by the engine’s noise. Whales, dozens of whales, spouted water on the horizon. One surfaced and then dove within a hundred yards of Sea Venture, the first whale sighting for Mark and Sandee. Such fun.

Isla Isabella

Knowing that the bottom around Isla Isabella was littered with rocks, Michael tied a trip line to the anchor before dropping it. The crew rose at 3AM, dressed, and tried to raise the anchor. It lifted, but the chain didn’t. With a swell heaving the bow, the chain went taut and then slack, but didn’t budge. They motored slightly forward, back, to one side and then the next. Michael envisioned leaving our wonderful, hefty Spade lying on the ocean floor, thirty-some feet below the waves. The thought of diving on it in all that swell did not appeal.

And then, finally, it cleared. A scratched chain shows its war wounds, but at least it’s now back in use in the sandy bottom of Punta Mita. Thank You, Lord!

I’m waiting to hear about their night in Banderas Bay.  Michael told of a Beneteau’s skipper who zipped past Sea Venture yesterday, trying to beat her into the anchorage. They watched as the Beneteau’s crew set about tying a line to their Fortress, which was light enough for him to lift and toss. It was a big boat…but perhaps his larger anchor and his chain lie somewhere under the sea.

I wonder how often that boat drags…. We prayed for safe holding for someone who ought to know better, especially as a collision with a drifting boat would be a rude way to wake in the dark.

I just added a page about moons from a short article I wrote in 2007. We’re years past then and certainly miles from Richmond, CA, but it will give you a sense of where we were and how far we’ve come. Click on the page link to read it, if you’d like.

Sailing Puerto Escondido April 2010

A friend just sent this of us sailing my little dinghy in PE this spring. Isn’t my mama the cutest 82 year old you’ve ever seen?

We turned on the computer after the wind woke us. We’d been watching this NASA site since early evening. Here’s what the satellites showed as the wind howled through the rigging.

Map showing storm in Sea and tropical depression to south

Sea Venture is anchored off Isla Coronado. This map looks rather terrifying, but it really shows that the worst would cross north of us. That proved true. We watched the lightning flash across the sky up near Bahia Concepcion, while here, our max winds were around 34 knots.

The red arrows point to Sea Venture’s position, just north of Isla Carmen.

It's moving across from the mainland

Blowing in the 30 knot range

Other boaters further north felt the wind’s force much more than we did. We have memories, many of them, of last year’s chubascos and big winds, slashing rain, lightning. We are grateful.

The bricked street marks the beginning of El Camino Real, which goes north into California. A lovely walk from the Malecon to the shopping district.

And then we returned to Isla Coronado, to a much higher-end neighborhood than the one we’d left. At the south end of the anchorage, a huge sailboat had dropped anchor. It boasts three spreaders on its very tall mast as opposed to our two on the main mast. Just north of them was one of those double-decker cigarette boats, with all sorts of young people (20+) hanging on it and off it and in the water around it. To the very north, Delia was anchored. We met their Mexican skipper last year in Aqua Verde and later in Escondido. All of the boats in the anchorage sport at least a paid captain (probably additional crew) except for Sea Venture, unless you count the food I provide our captain as his pay, or the comfort of a lovely boat that he produces for me as stipend for my contribution.

And smack dab in the middle of the bay? The BIG BOYS, documented out of the Cayman Islands.

If you look closely, you’ll see two men sitting on the lower aft deck. That will help put the size into perspective.  Ostar’s stern is 213 yards away from us. That’s over 600 feet. (I know, it doesn’t look like it, but Michael bought me a cute little range finder that keeps me from worrying about distance. He calls it a marriage saver. I no longer say, “But, honey, we’re too close,” only to have him respond with, “Over 400 feet. Don’t worry.” Sure. Now, I’m often the one who drives us to a spot, gauges the distance from land or other boats, checks the depth, and says to Michael –at the ready to drop anchor — “This works!”) Here’s a side view of Ostar. Cash registers go ka-ching! in my mind when I think about the fuel bills. And with a federal tax of 11% added to the bill, and the 20% on top of all of that?

And now for the entertainment: dancing rays.

I wish you could hear the slap, slap of dozens of rays. All evening, all morning, they leapt and slapped. We could see them swimming under water right next to the boat. Michael took videos, so if we figure out how to upload one someday, we’ll show you.

The day came to a lovely close with the sun performing as usual.

Just before I took these pictures, Zepelin returned to the anchorage. We will visit with them after dinner, taking chocolates from Sea Venture (thanks to Gary from Dash for emptying his refrigerator in our direction).

Thursday, we left Isla Coronado in flat seas and motored to Loreto for some shopping, before returning to Puerto Escondido for a day or two to drop off books and buy diesel. Little did we know that Singlar adds 20% for tax to the price of fuel.

An hour after we left Loreto, the wind picked up. It was glorious, as you can see from the above picture. We enjoy anchorages–the work we can accomplish, the snorkeling, the views, but there’s something magical about moving through the water when the wind whips your hair but doesn’t make for too wild a ride. I couldn’t stop grinning.

Feeding dolphins leapt in a frenzy along the way. I wish we’d been closer.

Here’s the rock that stands guard before you cut around to starboard and into Puerto Escondido.

On Saturday, we picked up 80 liters of fuel and left the boaters and land dwellers who make up the Puerto Escondido full or part-time community. We’ve time to spare before we’re due in San Carlos, and no place we have to be in the interim. So we headed back to Coronado, with a stop for a few veggies and lunch in Loreto.

Here are a few of the Loreto Harbor natives who greet dinghies. And below, panga parking.

In the next post, I’ll upload some Loreto pictures.