The Great Turtle War

This is the entrance to Nuevo Vallarta, and behind the sailboat on the right is a long, dark sand beach that is a turtle nesting site. And, behind the long beach are hotels and condos plus a fairly public beach entrance for this side of Nuevo. We had been seeing strange marks on the sand, and one morning saw two baby turtles trying to make the break for freedom. A very large lady came tearing out of one of the hotels and puffed and huffed her way to the babies and pulled them out of the surf, saying they were going to be placed somewhere safe. Ok. Then we saw a giant dead one on our morning beach walk. And yesterday, a man was digging up turtle eggs in front of the first hotel, and I tried to see if he had the same "official" shirt as the lady had, but he just kept digging and wasn't up to talking. A tourist reported another man to the police as he had been taking eggs from "our" beach. They just laughed. It seems that the turtles are protected, and there is a nursery somewhere around here, but messing with mother nature and the turtle's "return to their birthing ground" instinct is just screwed up.

Costa Rica has one beach that is so prolific in turtles/eggs/etc..that they allow one day for the locals to dig up eggs to sell to local bars or personal use for male libido. Ai yi yi. Supposedly this allows the next mother egg layers to have their eggs hatch. Again, messing with mother nature. (reported in Latitude 38). That doesn't make sense, either as the eggs are either of an endangered species or the Tico libido is declining. But it was a government decision.

Robert is at the little swap meet in the next small town to us - where we get lost every time we try to find this Tuesday market. We stock up on fresh papaya and pineapple and veggies and then find a good place for tacos to rest up from getting lost and the angst about the turtles.

Palapas can be anything

We found this Episcopal church right across from the airport, and near enough for us to get to it easily. The priest was in the Dio. of Calif, came down with his wife in a Crealock 42 6 years ago to cruise and stayed. The service is very much the traditional but Rite 2 with no interdenominational changes - hooray. And the fellow at the keyboard gets great organ sounds out of it - but he sings like a former nightclub lounge singer. Oh my. The congregation is made of winter visitors and some year round types, and the priest gets on the morning net to talk about the various events at the church. Immediately the priest's wife asked if I woudl help on Christmas Eve - I sidestepped that one, as being able to sit with

Robert has been a long time coming. We will be there on Christmas eve to sing carols and have a pupu dinner with wine.

We went out to La Cruz, a small village that has more bars and restaurants than normal little villages. We figured out that it is because of the fairly new marina: what does that say about cruisers?The fair was going on in the village square and we saw the new generation of Mexican "hippies" - or is it that creative types tend toward counterculture dressing, or undressing. Nothing really new under the sun. We bought some beautiful yellow tomatoes that disappeared off the boat. As Sherlock would say, therein lies the clue. I used to barricade the tomatoes in Fountain Hills with baling wire, chicken wire, rebar -anything to keep the unknown tomato thief from making off with those tomoatoes. We accused Fred the bull snake, sneaky javelinas, racoons, rats - but it, given the loss of the golden tomatoes, turned out to be the crime dog. Sha'ash. And his stomach was not all that happy for the crime.

Our New Home

We didn't want to tell the people over at Paradise Marina that we didn't like their fancy place: concrete all over, hot, and the shopping center full of haoles, etc. The cruisers in the marina were great - we had my birthday dinner with a couple, and two tired guys, Robert and Aaron, who had returned from Mazatlan with the van. Shrimp and Carne Asada tacos with pico de gallo and coconut ice cream. Space is what we found here in Nuevo Vallarta, a place for the dogs (horrible across the channel), shower rooms that are not too shabby, and sunsets, not a concrete wall in front of us. Nuevo has a lot of empty slips on the new dock and we can't understand why the cruisers aren't flocking to be here. Perhaps there is some deep, dark secret that will be revealed to us along the way.

Aaron, with his bags, on his way back to Az. this morning. He has a 24 hour bus ride to Nogales, and we know that when he gets there, he will know the personal history of everyone on the bus. And they would be best friends forever. We will miss him, but he says he is coming back. His Christmas will be in the foothills of California, while our's, will be at a potluck in La Cruz. Aaron could cook his way out of a dry, empty cupboard and come up with a feast. Tonight we are having Saimin, missing him. His last swim yesterday was outside the lagoon where a croc had made off with a fisherman.

Bucerias, full of tacky shops, but good lunch places. We spend a New year's here some time ago, and had two New Years as the time changes an hour right in town. You celebrate in one restaurant, head across the street and get a second new year.

The beach at La Cruz.....harbor in the background. The harbor is fairly new, but is swept with dirt all the time from the area around, and the anchor outs rock and roll to whatever the weather and ocean throw at them. The town is small, and has some restaurants/bars where the cruisers congregate - we might join them at some point but love the peace here in Nuevo. We had to find a place whre w could let the guys off the leash and found it north of La Cruz. Several years ago we rented a beautiful house in Bucerias and had to move when our week was up to a condo/house in La Cruz. We hated it and went out to Punta Mita, as Linda said we needed to find a bungalow. Chickens, drunks, broken plumbing, bare concrete...we love it as as we could kayak right there on the beach. The only problem was that the waves were notably big that year and we would get dumped when trying to kayak to shore. Robert replumbed our bungalow that year and we got a free night's stay.

And finally -where is the damn stick? All this water, and we finally get to chase a stick. Where is it? Throw another.

Sand fleas and large critters in paradise

I'o in the Chacala anchorage, calm and easy, not giving any indication of the hellish night ahead. The surf seemed to be pretty close and loud, and we waited a bit to see if the the anchor bit. It was only a four hour trip along the coast from Matenchen - long white sand beaches backed with green jungly hills. Exotic structures lined the hills perched lightly with several stories typically spreading downhill.



The dinghy landing and where the fisherment bring in their catch. The water was cold, but lovely, and we hiked across the point of land to the beach to check out what was on offer at the palapas. The "main street" behind the palapas held little shops that pretty much had the same shells and pareus - little hotels. We wondered why this beatiful little cove was not surrounded by huge hotels.
We found out, soon enough.

It is mainly sand under teh palapas and the critters in the sand feasted on us as we had a disappointing meal, but lots of limonada. A couple joined our table who were just driving up for the day and gave us the "skinny" on what was available in the various marinas. He said the main harbor was great, close to everything, but after Cabo, we didn't want to take a chance on any more lost sleep and tour boat noise.

All night, the boat swung and we rocked and rolled, despite being told by the cruising guide that it would not be anything more than a "gentle massage." The hell. We didn't get much sleep and left, along with all the other sleepless boats, for PV. We saw whales, schools of rays the size of dinner plates and at the entrance to Banderas Bay, were frightened by two huge whales rising quickly alongside the boat. One came back up to see who was screaming, but the other one decided to dive for Tahiti, as the screaming must have hurt.


We are aimed at Nuevo Vallarta, trying to find the harbor entrance here. It is always a bit tense trying to trust the GPS and after the whale excitement, all I wanted to do was get into a slip and drink something strong.

We were brought right to the entrance and scooted in to Paradise Marina. The marina lines a sea wall behind a resort, shopping center and condos. Our first night in the shopping center, after Matachen and Chacala had us considering moving as this is just middle america again.
There are still requirements to check in with the Port Captains in various ports - the paperwork was prepared by the harbor staff and we took a water taxi across to check in. The port captain's cat greeted us, named Captain, not Capitania...and immediately

decided that Robert was to be his new owner. Pets stay inside here, as the Estuary is full of crocodiles. Aaron and I kayaked around a few of the islands and were told by a very stern gentleman not to go past the bridge as the 18' footer lurks in wait for kayakers. Ok.
We plan on moving to the more open marina across the channel in the morning. There is a walkway to the beach and the dogs will finally get their wish.

Now this is more like it......

Evening in Matenchen Bay, but am going to backtrack and talk of the voyage to get there. While Mazatlan is a neat town, and the weather was perfect, the marina area felt like middle America and somehow not the Mexico we were looking for: of great beaches and quiet villages. Cabo was scary with the hustle, Mazatlan a real working city, and we were craving the non tourist experience and ready to leave. People told us that it would get better as we went south, and they were right.

Leaving Mazatlan.......

Lisa and John and a little lady waving goodbye to us as we leave Mazatlan. The little lady is in her 80s and still living on board though their boat is for sale. We were off on another overnight trip to Matenchen Bay, south of San Blas and the day went by fairly quickly, with some jib sailing, but wind mainly on the nose. That is getting to be the pattern, and scientists are calling this strange weather, La Nina. Robert likes the night watches, and Aaron seems to, also, but I got up and was more than a little uptight about the hundreds of fishing boats all over. It looks like the stars have fallen and become green, red and yellow lightning bugs on the water. Determining how fast or how slow they are moving, as we are doing up to 6knts under power is tricky.
Our dock in the marina held just about a dozen boats and we got to know each other fairly well.


We go to bed with the boat wet from a dew that seems to wring itself out of the air and find the morning dew heavy and dripping from the boom.


The dogs have learned to use the fake grass and look at us with pathetic looks when we take them to the poop deck while underway.





Right is the estuary that makes up the new harbor in Mazatlan as we are leaving.


We were there too long, but somehow manana time caught up with us.

Right is one of the shrimp boats off of Mazatlan, which is showing faintly in the distance. Imagine running through a moonless night, pitching and tossing, trying to figure out the what hundreds of little lights mean in front, to the side and all around you. Praying helps. It helps a lot.

The calmness of the water is typical - some swells when the on the nose wind comes up.

Aaron driving us out of Mazatlan - we are finally on to next step of the adventure.

Years ago, I borrowed Neale's VW and Mark and I drove from Mazatlan to spend a few months in San Blas, a small town north of PV. I remembered a small square, and three miles south, an empty beach. Mark and I had hired a panga to take us up the river to a fresh water spring, that was a more than refreshing oasis. Little did we know then that there are fresh water crocodiles in the estuary, but we loved the cool fresh water.We kept seeing something that looked like large black dolphins, arching out of the water, and blowing mist -something we don't see dolphins usually doing. Little whales.

And then there was Matenchan Bay, in the morning. I jumped right in and got right out. It was brisk and people we met later, who live south, said that the water was unusually cool this year. We proved that statement - but found a long, lovely beach all around the 5mile bay, and palapas and restaurants, on the beach I remembered as isolated and lonely. Ismael fed us twice, with giant pitchers of limoda - the best drink for hot days.

Small yellowtails surrounded our boat in the bay......we anchored quite a ways out, in 18' of water so not be eaten by the noseeums. The first night was magic, and the second, windless. They found us. We itched and scratched and decided to get out of bug land and head to Chacala.

We could have spent a week there easily...as this bay was telling us that we had really arrived in mananaland
-beautiful green mountains surrounding the bay, and a beach that went on forever. We were able to beach the dink easily but the muscle guys had to pull it way up the beach to cable it securely to a broken down restaurant. Someday we will go back, but armed with bug spray, and nets.

When Mark and I were there, the hotel would spray every night, a deadly mixture of DDT and some awful smell. While the town has grown, more cars and small hotels, and magic Matachen has developed some, the bugs have not changed. Yet there was more than enough to convice us to keep going, to find more remote beaches and bays. Our dream of so many years came true, itch and all.

Irony in the Central Market

You don't really have to go to the Central Mazatlan market to shop for anything as there are giant grocery stores here as well as Home Depot. Time to move south - but PV will be just as civilized. Mazatlan is a Mexican town, though, and delightful once we are away from the haoles at the harbor. They are all pretty nice, but we didn't come here to be with other English speaking folk, but to enjoy the culture. The above photo was taken in a small restarant above the market. The line from their propane tank stretcvhed across the door, around some funny furniture and into the cooking area. When we ordered, the young woman who took our order went down to the market and bought the ingredients we needed for our marlin tacos and gorditas. I love the irony in the photo.

Pinatas, color, fun.

Very colorful and fresh and even the meat aisles were refrigerated.

The cathedral - not very old, and not even open, and made up of several varieties of stonework.

The traffic around the market was diesel and gas fumes, and I decided to shop in the local verson of an upscale walmart called Mega. I didn't see anyone there that looked like typical walmartians, either and we met one of the first free style skiers from Canada who has retired here in Mazatlan. He seems to be able to walk ok.

The saying that boaters spend time in exotic places, fixing things is true: Robert tore apart the toilet as it was salted in and unable to function, while sitting on the dock in front of the boat. Not fun. And that is just in one year. Cruisers are told to put vinegar in the toilet periodically, to help dissolve the salt. We will, from now on be more diligent.

Weather ranged last night from 52 to 82 today and not at all like Christmas and we made carnitas for sailing food in the pressure cooker. After while, it seems that we crave the hot chiles and the local flavors, and as the capcasum (sp?) is good for the mood, we are becoming true cruisers at last. Wine in the cockpit tonight had us viewing a sunset of colors that are so vivid, that we wished we could share with northern friends. Sigh.

The Mexican Mambo

The above is the marina we are in in the "new" harbor and we were tremendously happy to drive in last night. Robert called me, Thanksgiving morning, from the bus station in Nogales as I was going over the border to pick him up. Several very young and tough American guys in blue uniforms asked to look at my Trader Joe's bags to see if I was taking the drugs and guns back to Mexico. No smiles. After being guided through the hell of road construction by locals who didn't know where the bus station was, I finally found Robert and we headed south. We had to get a permit for the car at mile 20, and that is where the Mexican Mambo started. N0t the "two step", but the for real mambo, with variations back and forth to the copy guy, immigration and the bank (banjercito which is run by rigid, uncaring beurocrats). A car import permit requires a visa, we had our's from Cabo. Then because Robert's name was on the car title, they used his and an argument started as Banjercito charged him $25.00 for the visa he had already paid for in Cabo. I quietly said, just pay for the permit, don't argue. Ever tell someone not to argue when they insist they are right? Then the supervisor came over and said we had to get a new visa, as our visa was for a boat not a car. We went back to immigration, who said Banjercito was nuts. So we bought the new visa in my name, as Robert had not left the country. We went back to Banjercito, had to pay for the car permit, more copies made, and they refused to take Robert's card. The permit was in my name, and the credit card had to match the permit with my name on it. Notice, no swear words. We showed our passports, but it sounded as if they wanted a marriage license. Wells Fargo at Frank Lloyd Wright and Via Linda had eaten my credit card that morning. More argument. Didn't work. Nobody budging. We trekked back to immigration, who laughed and said that the "problem is with Banjercito" - no kidding, as we paid for another visa. We had to keep going to the copy office to get more copies of the different documents. Gabriel , at the copy office, thought that having new friends named Robert and Roberta was wonderful and laughed about it alot. We found out, when we saw him leaving the copy office, kissing the girl at the counter who took his place. It was his wife, Gabrielle.
At this point, we were concerned about having enough on Robert's credit card to get us into the country as we had different balances and my card, with a balance was in Scottsdale, in limbo, Ai yi yi. We called Ian, who probably thinks his parents need to be locked up and managed to get home to the boat last night with $10 cash and some pesos. Thank you, Ian.
The highway was mostly toll(Cuota) and very safe and better roads than in Calif. Narrow in places and trucks like to pass fast, but we had a great time. Our Thanksgiving dinner was at a bus stop area: Tacos birrea, Carne asada tacos and all the trimmings. We thought it was wonderful and thought of the other's we have had in the past with a lot of lovely friends who had better get down here.

The colors on the road to Brookings were astonishingly brilliant. A very late Indian Summer had kept everything green, but I was either driving through the sky falling with snow, hail, and heavy rain or small breaks in the storm where I could take a pic like this.

And very happy to be back in Mazatlan, thinking of the wonderful friends who took care of me on the trip up and back. Next week we will try to get a temporary import permit for the boat and will see if we have learned to dance properly.

The "elegant" bus

That is what some of the local cruisers called the bus to the border: it has movies, comfortable seats and loos. Comfortable seats, yes - but you had to have your own tp and the movies were in Spanish. The other drawback was the ambitious searching of the bus, at least 7 - 8 times all night long when we were trying sleep, by the Federales, looking for the drugs and guns all of us were hiding on board. They would come aboard, turn on the lights, say good evening very politely and then tell everyone to get off the bus. I didn't understand and would just sit there and watch pretty pathetic searches and have some nice conversations with the guys who were bored out of their mind. Our governments are working overtime and giving employment to many in Mexico to stamp out the drug trade so the guys have jobs and uniforms.

The violence that "seems" to be so exaggerated by the media between the druggies is minor in light of the violence that is happening in any of our US cities at any given time. In fact, the tourism numbers for Mexico have increased in spite of the media reports and the US economy, but things are still a little slow. We see just calm, good people who are warm, helpful and accomodating...and most of all, extremely polite.

The road from Mexicali to Tijuana was heartstopping up into mountains, curling around sheer cliffs and the driver seemed to take it as carefully as if he was carrying a cargo of eggs. I still wasn't able to look very often as at one time in the middle of the night I looked out the driver's window and saw that we were going 70 mph down the middle of the road. This was a head down, tighten the seat belt and pray some more while waiting for the next Federale "raid".

The border was 4 1/2 hours of lines to walk over, so I was suckered into taking a special bus that would get me across in 15 minutes. They lied - more like an hour plus, but at least I wasn't hauling my luggage in that long line. Just stuck in the heat with two squalling kids in the bus - I gave them fruit, candy and finally told them to be quiet, in Spanish. The others on the bus agreed.....except for the mom. The drug dog at immigration was a golden retriever who kept nudging my bag- the handler took it an put it on the floor where the dog went nuts pushing it around. Two chicken burritos drove it crazy. So, the moral of the story is, if you are going to push AK 47s, hide drugs, don't eat the chicken burritos and you will be either allowed entry to the US without a search or arrested. I was embarrassed for the dog.

I checked into a Point Loma motel and slept for eleven hours and found a secret. You can drive through the crazy LA traffic calmly if you have slept that much. Am in foggy Santa Barbara, missing the warmth of Mazatlan and looking forward to getting back down there and more of the cruise south. But I am with dear friends and that counts more than anything.

What was fascinating was the difference in the small Mexican towns: the growth of the middle class is Mexico is astonishing. The towns are growing, cleaner and more commercial activity than in the past is apparent. Our economy, drug trade, whatever, may have impacted on Mexico, but it appears they are in good shape and doing very well. Hard workers, those Mexicans and perhaps a lesson for all the whining that is going on here in the US. Get to work, people - it is what made the country great.

Photos in the tropics

Molly J(our buddy boat) in the old Mazatlan harbor. The ferry to LaPaz is in the background...years ago I took that from LP to here with my 14 year old son for a Mexican adventure. It was a bit elegant then with a dining room and food that was wonderful. The next trip on it was cut rate everything and mal de mer with diesel fumes.

Taking the pups ashore...in the old Harbor - Mazatlan. People everywhere, hot, dusty and frustrating for the guys as they couldn't have a proper run.

Robert wondering whose idea this all was, in the slip in the new harbor at Mazatlan. Shaving is a challenge.

The anchorage at Bahia Santa Maria...before Cabo. Only part of the 100 plus to 180 boats in the anchorage. We went in at 3 am and tried to anchor silently and left at 3am to get to Cabo by daylight.

A proper feast with the hairy guys. They were great.

Ok, we know we are off Cabo - but where is it?

Leaving condo/Cabo for the overnight to Mazatlan.

Mazatlan

This finding a wifi area is difficult - the marinas say they have it, but weak signals and you have to cart your computor up to an area to write. Somehow I have to load the photos - promise, tomorrow. We had a wild ride across from Cabo with a buddy boat, Molly J - but in the dark they were calling us on the radio to look out for a tanker we had been watching. At the same time a huge boat right near us decided to turn on it's lights and scared us - we call it the "drug boat" as it seemed to be just waiting out in the middle of the ocean. We had adrenaline rushes and crashes and got Robert up to help keep watch. The oil tanker we had been watching turned behind us...for awhile it was on direct line with the back beram of the boat. More nerves.
The sun came up to.....fog. We did not see the coastline until about a mile out and had to announce ourselves to the harbor patrol as large ships go in and out of the very tight harbor entrance. The next morning, we heard all sorts of hooting from a huge ship - Holland America came in and I swear there had to be at least three feet on either side of the ship in the entrance, if that much.
We anchored in front of Club Nautico and went ashore for adventure: hailed what they call a pulmonia (open taxi) to take us to a fruit stand, and then we asked if he wanted lunch. We had street tacos at his favorite place...and a tour of old Mazatlan. Club Nautico used to be a happening place until the north harbor, with expensive marinas opened, but it is still interesting to see all the activity of ferries, cruise ships and the tour boats.
We left this AM for the northern "new harbor" to find a slip as we are trying to get north for some family stuff and blessed Aaron will stay on the boat. Finding the entrance of this place would have been impossible if we didn't have a photo from a new book. Molly J followed us in and now we have to search for a ride north. The entrance and the channel is very, very narrow, and in the heat I went nuts setting the lines and bumpers out, to collapse when the marina guys took the lines. Thank heaven for the marina guys.
The dogs have learned to do their thing on the fake grass, with some some mistakes. When we ask about the mistakes, they scurry away and tell us they don't know what we are talking about. We can see places here near the Marina to fun them, finally. Cabo was impossible for them - us , too...this is quieter.
Mazatlan weather is perfect! Wish you were here. Photos tomorrow.

More Turtle Bay

Leaving Turtle Bay......for Bahia Santa Maria... the little town is where the white line on the left is.

The hangout in Turtle Bay - in front of the harbor....we look happy, but are very tired. Nobody shaved for a few days...look like pirates.

And this was gong down the channel to the start in SanDiego....look at what we left behind.

Evan's birthday in Cabo...without Evan

It is Friday night in the harbor, a 208 lb yellow fin tuna got the tournament prize and the man on the loudspeaker across the harbor with all the fishermen, let us know that they were going to "party" tonight with a big band. Swell. We slept through the band of last night, and wake up to the thumpathump of the party boats. Doesn't really bother us as we sleep with the engine going underway - whodathunk.

Getting into the marina here in Cabo was strange: hundreds of sport fishermen charging us outside the harbor getting to their "spot", the tension of finding boats in our slip and dealing with pangas and other boats moving about. It led to quite a bit of tension among all of us - we were tired, a bit crabby (engine all night - no wind) and there is the anxiousness of a new harbor. We got in ok, had to move to another slip and everyone split to deal with their own stuff - sort of - as if all this is earthshaking and really means anything in the long run. Some hurt feelings - but it all works out eventually. We need to understand that what is important is what is between people and the damn boat will take care of itself without all the drama.

But what is sailing without drama? A good day.

I tried to load photos again...but the internet here fights them, so will do a whole collection when we get better internet . Getting online here is tough.

At Bahia Santa Maria, our second stop, we came inside the bay at dark and anchored a couple times to miss other boats. A lot of dancing around as there was some wind...sure, when we don't need it. Morning brought the sight of being in a bowl of rugged hills, low sand dunes between us and Magdalena Bay, and wet, wet dew all over. We are salty and silty. An estuary runs back towards fish camps, where Peter, Frank and Craig bought some fish we ate for dinner - beyond delicious. Might have been Sierra. There was a party on the beach, which became huge when the tide went out, but we abstained from the food. It had all been trucked in from miles and miles away, and yet, nobody died from the lack of refrigeration. No water for sale: stacks and stacks of Pacifico. We left in the dark to get to Cabo in the daylight.
Saw a lovely turtle, five miles out as well as sharks, sunfish and of course, the ubiquitous pelicans.

So, Evan's birthday. When he was born, the nurses in the infant area would come in to ask me to feed him as his crying was so loud that he kept all the other babies awake. God gave Evan a voice, and we miss it. He is now older than I am. Miracles happen. He and Janice are celebrating in Washington DC and we are thinking of him with a great deal of love, here in the harbor in Cabo San Lucas.

Life in Turtle Bay, Baja California

We have been hanging on the hook off this small dusty, yet fairly prosperous town....fish, and more fish. We came into the dinghy dock and there was a giant sport fisher type yacht waiting for fuel...$3 a gallon. Cheaper than Calif.
Cannot load my photos here...will do so in Cabo..and we will show the good, bad and the difficult.
One night on my watch, with the sail full up (this never happens in the Bay Area - that is three reef country)....and the full jib, we were smoking to tens. It was downwind and a bit frightening. Then Peter decided to reef, after furling the jib, and we had to go into the wind, themain creating a racket that would wake up the deaf, and we all had specific jobs. The reefing did thejob and we still did 6s and more. WE were among the first 30 of over 150 boats to arrive at this small bay. And we were able to get laundry done, get the dogs to shore, and eat somen good food and wander around sort of stunned around the eyes. We sleep a lot.
The weather is in the 70s, good sleeping at night, and shorts day time. And by the time we are in Cabo it will be int he 80s. Yes. As is we wear our foulies on night watch and just watch the GPS get us to where we are going....Bahia Santa Maria is the next stop. There for a few days and then almost one day to Cabo.
The trip down was real ocean sailing - long, big swells and even larger waves...but not so great wind except for a small bit of sailing. Frank does the radio, and in port, drives the dink. Robert continues projects, I cook, Peter works the navigation and skippers us so we know what to do, and Craig handles what is left over. The boat is a bit of a pit as we don't have any fresh water to clean the decks - we will be making water on this leg and I definitely plan to get rid of some of the salt. The dogs think that leaping into the dink from the boat is a hoot - but getting gack on the boat is a bit of a hassle - Robert has to get their paws on the boat and then boost them.
I miss my sons. That is strange - but I really miss being able to talk to them. We are signed up for Skype and plan to use that soon. I really miss being able to talk to my friends, also - big time.
I have spoken to other women and got the same feeling about dealing with men, all the time. Laters.

San Diego and rain, rain, rain

Does Robert look happy? He has this great system where it looks as if I have the "Arnold" muscles, as I tail very fast as he goes up the mast. He was puttting in the for the storm sail. we were ten days at the Police Dock and you can tell the crusing boats as they have all the "stuff" on deck. So much for looking like the Clampetts...we all look like floating West Marine stores.

This is the last post until we find a wifi area somewhere along the coast. I don't know about Turtle Bay until we get there...it is a small village half way down the Pacific Coast. Our first stop.

So have to go reef the main, walk the dogs and get ready to leave. It is, as usual, raining.

Snap, Crackle and Homeland Security

The elegant sailboat in the back drifted by us outside of Long Beach: they had wind and we had

breeze on the nose. The same SW winds that have had us wondering about the weather gods and why we are not allowed to sail down to San Diego are still with us. Oceanside was kind and said yes they could give us a slip. What they didn't tell us is that the transient slips are short and if you are holding the spring line and need to

get off the boat, you either hang on outside the life lines, fending off the concrete pillars or fall in. Almost. That was a job for a gymnast.

Fog again, all along the coast, with the wonderful large balls of nuclear plants, mysterious military installations and such to vaguely allow us to know there was a west coast over there. Robert say a "field of dolphins showed up, boiling for ages while I was sleeping with the dogs. You know that saying, lie down with dogs and wake up with.....not fleas. A sub, in our lane, pushing us over outside the red bouys insided Pt. Loma. The escort boat flew over in our direction,

as if to say we were crowding the

sub. Off Oceanside, also, we heard

Securite announcements that San Clemente Island was being bombed by "warship" in the morning. Well, great. We couldn't see it, anyway and the dogs huddled below thinking those damn fireworks were going to get them. Here is the escort boat going huffily away as we waved and smiled
at them. Yes, we look terroristic. Right. It might be the ugly bird on the bow.

Both Marina Del Rey and here in San Diego had water sounds of critters eating things off our hull: Rice Krispie sounds of very small creatures, a shrimp of sorts. As we are aluminum, the snapping is amplified.

We just got the long range forecast for the Baja trip: rain on the 24th and light winds. Well, NOAA has not been correct this whole trip and we have been in gloom and rain in lovely, fun San Diego. We did what everybody with any sense does on a gloomy Saturday. We went to the swap meet and bought more duct tape.

Friends along the way

Channel Islands harbor was a quiet, almost spooky place - hardly anyone around and a lot of vacant slips. We did see a wonderfully lit up paddle wheeler majestically going down the channel at night, with a few people on board. Debbie and Harold brought food and a wonderful visit, with minimal talk of our real estate woes in Az. In that sunshine, it is good to forget the economy.
We tried for hours to get around Pt., Dume and then could see all the Malibu houses, and wondered if they are having lower home value estimates. As if.
Marina Del Rey Harbor Entrance on a Saturday afternoon is not to be believed for sheer cussedness of the local boaters. We re to go 5mph, not pretend we are bumper cars and having pregnant women on board having babies. A boat of beautiful, semi naked black people stormed by trying to run over kayakers. Ah, Hollywood, or something.

Neal found us 40' slip that Robert gently put us in in front of the Ritz Carlton. At 4:30AM I called the night manager and politely asked him to turn off his obnoxious music, that people were trying to sleep in front of his hotel. I used politer language. It was off the following night, think ticky tacky sounds driving you nuts. Look real closely at the big black boat...you can see a small figure on the bow - if this boat ever leaves the harbor, nobody could find the fuel dock.
The man who had I'O built in New Zealand, is now building these huge, elegant monsters.
Iand and family came to visit, and then Ian got on a plane to Amsterdam. Neal has known Ian since he was nine, and the tenth was his 47th birthday.
Charleen came bringing food: us two ptotentates of the church got some illegal parking. Sigh. Parking is impossible in Marina DR.


We left early, into the offshore marine layer,

into rotten seas and wind, which
calmed enough for us to get into Long Beach, Alamitos Bay. I put together the double bunk down below and the dogs and I curled up to ride out the waves.
We fall into our bunk, so tired, we wonder who's idea this was. We are off to Dana Point today, we hope, with our schedule all messed up. But that is cruising.

Beautiful Santa Barbara

The harbor is surroundedby lovely green hills, almost mountains on the land side, with the city tucked at the base. The water is calm, peaceful and we slept for a couple days. Our time there was a time for being with family and friends, of long standing. Lois is on the outside, her friend Sylvia and her daughter Carol - Lois is my sister from my father's first marriage. We met years ago in Hawaii, and again in Scottsdale and were blessed to be with her and also the nephew I had not met before, her son Steve. How lovely to find new family.

We had previously written about elegant SB harbor being brought to a lower level by our wet laundry, but my friend Barbara did the laundry while we napped and tried to get some energy back after the long slog down.Barbara and I have been friends since Bremerton, Washington, which is a long time
ago, and I had encouraged her to go to Hawaii. The rest is history and lovely history at that. We have found each other at times, in strange places without knowing that we would see each other.

The boat to the right may have trouble getting out to sail as it is full of vegetables growing all over it. A bit of charm in the harbor or denial.
Robert said the leaving is the hard part and that he likes the arriving.
We hear that from cruisers all the time - and it is awful to leave and not know when you will see dear friends again. Dick and Robert talk boats and share memories of adventures in Hawaii.

Leaving Santa Barbara was difficult but we don't say good bye, but aloha to Barb & Dick and given our crazy schedule, who knows when we will be back. Their house sheltered us this past January when that wild storms blew in and life on the boat in Alameda was asthma central.

Leaving SB to Oxnard this AM - we saw dolphins playing in the flat water, oil rigs and traffic on 101, We are tucked in at Anacapa Isle marina

and resort...sauna, anyone?

Bye, Santa Barbara, hello Oxnard/Channel Islands.

On our way to warmer waters......

The Golden Gate shrouded in fog...we were fighting a flood with a 5knt current. Fog all day, good visibility at night of Half Moon Bay - we passed it and kept going. We were wearing just about everything we own - to keep warm. That is Alcatraz and Treasure island in the distance. While still in the Bay we were hit with a huge wave that got our bunk and a lot of clothing wet. Right now, we are in elegant Santa Barbara and we have wet clothes and linens draped all over the outside. The Clampetts have arrived. Saying aloha to the Bay area was difficult, but we realize that we need to toughen up and get south for the warm weather.

Our neighbor, Robert took the photo just before we cast off. Do we look nervous? We were, but Frank is another angel andwe trust God to lead us.

Right after this we headed down the Estuary, under the Bay Bridge, to our rendevous with the giant wave and a wet bed. We drove through the night

on three hour watchs, but no one could sleep very well with the big rollers. Off of Monterey and Big Sur, we hit wildly confused waves, coming at us from all over. At one point, Robert asked if that was normal for cruising. My answer was no really, but those conditions were not too bad. They were just awful and the boat handled it, one side to another, one side, swing over. Not fun.

I went to bed with bad news and woke up to Robert having brought the boat in with Frank on the GPS to Morro Bay. We crashed five hours before getting thrown off the Yacht Club dock by a guy who used big words and was sort of a jerk. To get fuel, we had to sidle up to some tall pilings and climb a steel ladder to get the hose down. Another first.

The fog cleared slightly as we clawed our way out using our reverse course....it was the case of the missing bouys and a narrow channel. Once we were out, Iwent to bed, with dogs and prayers for calm seas. Well, the seas were long, high rollers and we steadily made tracks south to here, wonderful Sant Barbara, where our laundry is all over the outside of the boat for all these elegant people to see. Do I care? Not much. We are having adventures -but are so pooped that we nap a lot. We had the best crew: Frank, who now we consider the best friend we could have for this adventure. He left and will join us in San Diego for the Baja. We miss him already.