Wastin away again in margaritaville

Hey all, sitting here on somebody's stoop stealing their wi-fi service. We are at Playa Coyote a few miles south of Mulege, on the Sea of Cortez. The sea is lapping and iridescing about 50 feet from my keyboard. I am writing this beneath a waxing gibbous moon. The tide is coming in, and it should be pretty high as we approach the full moon. We sailed Valdesca today, our second day of sailing. After we got here, we had to wait a couple days for some spanking south winds to die down. It was way too rowdy for us. We are learning the Beaufort wind scale and at about 15 knots of wind, the scale says that there are many horses visible on the sea surface. I take the "horses" to be whitecaps. The first couple days here there were way too many horses out there for us. Today was pretty spunky. We went way out, a couple miles anyway, and then tacked back and forth up the bay a good long ways. We started out with a reef in the main, shook out the reef after a while, put it back in a while later, and then things really got cooking so we took the main down all together and sailed under jib and mizzen. Valdesca sails quite happily on two sails. The waves were getting pretty big--maybe 3 ft rollers--as the wind built up. After about 4 hours we came in because the wind just kept getting stronger and stronger and the waves bigger and bigger. We had quite a little kerfuffle as we doused the main and I couldn't undo a knot I tied earlier and the jib was flogging around like crazy and the jib sheets got all fouled after one of the figure eight knots came out. Tim said later, "Jeez, things can really go to hell fast out here."' Ain's that the truth. The winds down here are ferocious. And the gusts only more so. Our second night, we broke a tent pole and ripped our brand new tent--the North Face minibus. Spent the next day scrounging in Mulege for some way to fix the broken pole. We found a fix, and I patched the tent with a piece of sail fabric. Good as new, almost.

Valdesca sails like a champion. She is beautiful, and happy to be off the trailer and doing what she does best. Tomorrow we pull her out to get the bottom painted. We have made friends with the folks at NOLS and their boat guy is going to paint the bottom. He is also helping us on some other details--a whisker pole for the jib (necessary for so much downwind sailing as we'll be doing going south), a way to mount the stern anchor. We met the director of the sailing program, Roger, from Barcelona, of all places. Great guy, gracious, and very helpful. He made many suggestions for routes, places to visit, stops for water, sites to see, and tricks for Drascombe sailors.

We are likely going to stay here on the beach for a while longer. We have a lot to learn and there's no reason to rush off. We have a gorgeous camp beneath some palms, $5 a night. Can't beat the view and the fresh air. We are on a beach with a bunch of loose nuts from the States. Some great people, who have been very welcoming and helpful with radios, weather reports, and other local knowledge. Will likely go do some geology with one guy who is a raven researcher, among other talents. He has two pairs of ravens here he has been following for years. One pair is Kai and Ote. The other pair is Romeo and Julieta. He says ravens can live for 45 years. His 70th birthday is tomorrow and he is going out in his sea kayak to Coyote Island to spend his birthday with Romeo and Julieta. He says he once saw Julieta using a chapstick tube like a skateboard, pushing off with one foot along the sand. And once Romeo was scooping up sand with a little half sphere of plastic.

We are seeing ospreys, reddish egrets, snowy egrets, phainopeplas, vermilion flycatchers, and gazillions of dolphins. We are eating delicious empanadas stuffed with fruit made my a lady up the road. Vendors come by with fresh shrimp, fresh vegetables, empanadas and tortillas. They bring water and ice, blankets, t-shirts, fish. One guy tonight sold 40 pizzas! That means about every person on this beach but us bought a pizza.

Tap Tapley, who founded the Mexico NOLS program, is right down the way. We met him a few days ago. His was the first house on Coyote Bay, about 30 some years ago.

There is a magnificent house for rent right next to our camp. It's on the water and looks beautiful. We have made friends with the caretakers, Carmen and Manuel. Come on down! Valdesca is anchored right off the beach.

En Mexico by jingo...

swing the bolo! That phrase recurs to me from my childhood. That was about all I knew of Mexico--bolos and jingos, whatever a jingo is. I'll have to google that. It's been a looooong drive to get here, Guerrero Negro. And we aren't even THERE yet. We might get to Mulege by tonight. Our average highway speed is 40 mph. These aren't four-lane freeways down here, at least south of Ensenada. In fact, the Transpeninsular Highway is a narrow two-lane road with a lot of curves and grades. It is the only highway that runs the length of the peninsula. It was paved in 1974. Before that, it took an unimaginably long time to do this route. Passing through a small town yesterday, where our guide book said in the old days (the 60s) they used to measure out gasoline in a five-gallon container and filter it through a felt hat or a towel, we saw a guy doing that very thing. His trailer of 55 gallon drums of gasoline was positioned strategically across the road from a moribund Pemex gas station. I guess they tried gas stations and they didn't take off.

Last night we stayed in a little hotel in Guerrero Negro. Ahhh, hot showers! And a comfy bed. Our first night out of Tucson, we were looking in Yuma for a state park I saw on the internet. I wanted to stay near the international border so we could get up early, cross the border and jam south. When we discovered the park was closed, we opted for the desert. We found a turnoff from I-8 that led to a dusty dirt road that crossed some railroad tracks. A couple miles out into the desert, we pulled over and set up to sleep in the boat with the cover only partially over us. We were happy we did because after a while it started to sprinkle and all we had to do was pull the cover over top of us. The next night, we spent in Lazaro Cardenas, and it truly rained. We tried the same stunt, sleeping in the boat. But the rain kept dripping on us and the boat cover filled up like a swimming pool, pushing down on my legs. Tim had to get out in the middle of the night and get the water off and tighten the tarp. From then on, it was like sleeping in a sarcophagus, with the tarp about one inch off our faces. I am not generally claustrophobic but I had to work on myself to not freak out. Getting out of that spot next day, an inlet of the Pacific called Bahia de San Quintin, we had to slip-slide on the mud for kilometers back to the main road.

Tim is doing the driving. It's like threading a needle all day long. The boat trailer is just a little wider than the car, so he has to constantly think about positioning the rig in our lane so we don't scrape the semis going by in the opposite direction. Today, more of the same.

The scenery is magnificent, although it rained off and on all yesterday. I am following a geologic field guide that necessitates keeping track of the mileage markers and landmarks. I am juggling a map, a field guide, the GPS, and my field notebook on my lap. And the camera. Now and then, when the fog lifts, we stop to shoot a few photos. Today it's sunny, fortunately, so the driving should be a little easier.

Last night we crossed into Baja California Sur. It's kind of disturbing to cross a state line and go through a military checkpoint and get sprayed with insecticide. We had to pay 10 pesos for that privilege. I felt like saying, "No, I don't want the spray." Military checkpoints are everywhere down here as they fight this losing battle against the influx of drugs into the US.

More later when we get to a stopping place. For now, the whales in Scammon's Lagoon will have to wait for us as we head down the peninsula.

Tucson!

Made it to Tucson. Four hours down boredom boulevard, turn right at Hatch, and then 4 more hours to Tucson. I worked for a couple hours on a paper while Tim drove.

Stopped at a million dollar bathroom and pulled out some tahini, bread and carrots for lunch. Then I snored while Tim drove. Hatch looked kinda cool. Hot Damm Chile. Chile Willie's. Hatch is famous for its chile--red or green. Found some coffee at Sparky's Espresso.

In Hatch, we tried our first 60 mph SPOT OK message. And apparently it worked because it showed up on our SPOT adventure.

At dusk, east of Tucson, we drove through a zone of rounded granite boulders in Texas Canyon that reminded us of Joshua Tree National Monument where we did a lot of climbing while I was in grad school. Cochise Stronghold in the distance was blood red in the setting sun. The traffic got a little intense near Tucson. Leo's directions got us to their house without much confusion. Parked out front, met their new puppy Sukie and their old puppy Olive. Leo grilled up some slabs of steak with mushrooms, green chile, and a roasted red pepper-garlic-olive oil sauce.

For breakfast we have requested the Leo Special, a Fiesta de Bacon! And some exercise before we get back in the car to go to Yuma. Our Christmas present from Leo and Leslie is a new door handle for the Nissan! Leo found one at a Tucson auto parts store. Que milagro! Now we won't need therapy over letting each other in the passenger side door.

Houston, we have lift off!

We're out the door at 9:30 AM, Saturday. First stop, Tucson. We should arrive there by 7 PM. I just broke the door handle off the Nissan. So let's hope that's the only untoward thing that happens all day!

Almost legal

As you may recall, today was the day for MVD Express, the long-awaited chance to finally get a NM title to Valdesca. I left the house with my folder of paper, with Tim asking me if I had it all in order. Yes, yes, yes, see you later. Got to MVD Express with a bag of knitting for the anticipated lengthy wait. Got called up to the counter before I had my knitting out of the bag. Well, this looks promising. I told an abbreviated sob story to Al while shuffling paper to find what I needed to show him. I pulled out the MD title only to realize that I had forgotten to sign for the previous owner. Uhhhh, "I forget to get something I need from the car." "That's OK," Al responded, "we've got plenty of time." Out in the car, I practiced my orthography, filled in the blanks on the title and then hustled back inside. Things were kind of touch and go there for a while as Al's computer balked at the beam width and length; the computer didn't like it when the boat was wider than it was long. Sheesh.  I had to call Tim for the MD registration number. Then I started to worry that we had wanted the title in my name OR his, not just mine. But would Al make me get Tim's signature? That would mean a half hour to get back home, a return trip to Santa Fe, and then all my other errands. Al seemed to be copacetic with just one of us signing. I had to call Tim back for his social security number. Fortunately, he and Lee were huddled over the Thursday crossword waiting for calls. It was especially dicey when Al started piling up papers and telling me that we could finish when the stickers arrived. I told him that we wanted to clear out of Santa Fe and get the sticker FedEx'd to us en route. "Well, when are you leaving?" "Tomorrow at 10:30 right after we pick up a strut at Pep Boys." "Oh." And and and I was worried that we were getting close to 90 days since we bought the boat and would incur a penalty if we didn't get it titled before Feb 2 (which is the truth; we bought the boat Nov 2). Al said, "Oh, we can just do the title then." Yeeeeeees (breathe in, breathe out).  Eventually he got around to printing out the title and calculating the taxes. I wrote the check and passed pleasantries, all the while maniacally knitting while standing at the counter. The way we left it, I would send somebody in with a copy of the title to get the registration and we would have it before we put the boat in the water.

Phew! Dripping relief, I went out to the car and called Tim. "Well, I got the title. But I locked the keys in the car." Happily, Lee was about to head to Santa Fe, and he could meet me somewhere with a key. I told Tim, as I looked around at the not-terribly exciting landscape of St Michael's Drive, that I would be at Molly's Kitchen and Lounge. I strolled over there and walked in, not having eaten at Molly's Kitchen since it moved from downtown about 30 years ago. It was like a morgue in there, at 11 AM. The sign said OPEN so I sat down at a table and started to knit. After a good long while, and a few beer deliveries, a guy passed by an open door and saw me. "Are you open?" I asked him. They were. I ordered some lunch as I waited for Lee, who arrived as I was finishing. Good thing I wasn't writing a restaurant review because Molly's wouldn't have gotten even one chile.  We visited awhile, as Lee likes to do, and I headed off to complete my round of errands, which included some clothes shopping at REI, copying our precious boat and trailer titles, and a few other details. I parked near REI and paid 75 cents for 45 minutes of parking. I managed to get out of REI with a FEW shillings left in our bank account, walked back to the car, picked the parking ticket off the windshield, had a good laugh, and went home. Can't say I have ever locked the keys in the car AND gotten a parking ticket in the same day. But at least we can leave town now.

Gearing up

I want to tell you about the whole process of gearing up for this trip but it's a long story and will take several installments. All I can say is thank god for the internet and UPS. How else would you gear up for an ocean sailing expedition from a landlocked high-altitude desert? We hatched the plan to buy a sailboat and go to Mexico about four months ago, in September. I initially figured we'd go in February. That would leave plenty of time to find a boat, buy it, gear up, pack, and get there. My doctor, however, intimated that I might want to go sooner if not right away. We didn't even have the boat though! I put on my old logistics sergeant hat and went at it like a fiend. Some days I spent 12 hours reading books, ordering more books, making lists, searching for gear, searching for deals on gear, ordering, and dragging stuff out of closets and sheds. It may be a small boat, but the task of outfitting it for a three-month cruise ("a three hour tour") is monumental. First there is the gear that pertains to the boat: sails, oars, motor, lines, anchors, anchor rodes, gas can, ladder, fenders, battery-powered running lights, boat hook, fire extinguisher, fiberglass repair kit, motor repair kit, sail repair kit, spare hardware. Then there is the navigation and safety stuff: charts, parallel rules, dividers, protractor, china markers, compass, GPS and digital charts, cruising guides and weather books specific to the Gulf of California, VHF radio, single sideband shortwave radio, logbook, waterproof binoculars with rangefinder, hand bearing compass, first aid kit, life vests, whistles, strobes in case we fall overboard, red flares and orange smoke flares (night vs day), SPOT GPS tracker, a dinghy (and paddles), a ditch bag with survival gear. And the stuff for camping on the boat and onshore: a tent that fits over the cockpit of the boat, a tent for shore camping, burly stakes that will hold a tent down on a beach in a big wind (for which Baja is famous), sleeping pads, sleeping bags and fuzzy fleece liners, a lantern and headlamps, a loo (of some sort). Lots of thinking went into gear for cooking, eating, and hydrating: a two-burner propane stove, a slick fiberglass propane tank that weighs half what the steel ones weigh (and floats!), an aluminum dry box for all the kitchen gear, a cooler (for the beer!), 7-gallon water jugs, 2.5-gallon collapsible water jugs, 10-liter Dromedary bags for storing in the bilge in case of water shortage, gear for a solar still, dry bags for storing dry food, a kitchen tarp for either the boat or the beach, fishing gear (rod and trolling lines). Then we have our personal gear: foul weather pants and jacket, boat shoes, layers of polypro and fleece ("engineered clothing" as my sister Anne calls it), sunhats, sunglasses, sunscreen, bathing suits, flip flops, snorkeling gear, rashguard shirts and nylon pants, waterproof camera (16 Gb of memory oughta do it). Tim has his art stuff and I have my knitting stuff. I also have a lot of geology stuff; never leave home without it: rock hammer, Brunton compass, sample bags (there's always some rock that wants to come home with me), hand lens, field notebooks, a waterproof box full of Baja geology literature. We also have a waterproof box full of books on marine mammals (whales and dolpins), tide pool critters, Baja plants (they are weird; ever see a Boojum?), Baja fishing guide, birds, marine first aid, and forecasting weather. Don't forget the folding chairs and rolling table! I don't think the table is going to fit. But the chairs are the difference between a good trip and a bad trip. They are going if I have to strap them to the transom.

More thought than you can imagine went into every decision about every thing we are taking along. Confronted with running GPS, VHF, SPOT, strobes, shortwave, flashlights, lantern, computer (oh yeah, don't forget the laptop in a waterproof Pelican case), walkie talkies (so I can go pound on rocks while Tim paints), and camera, we decided we'd rather rig up a solar panel than fill a dump with three months' worth of batteries. That decision meant finding a solar panel suitable for a marine environment and a deep cycle marine battery as well as DC chargers for everything. The solar panel is waterproof (and folds up to the size of a small paperback book) and can be mounted on deck, but the battery isn't and has to live in a dry bag. A side note: the deep cycle battery has a built-in air compressor (for flat tires on the drive to and from) and jumper cables; the engineer that thought this one up gets a gold star. I wasn't even looking for those options. We have a sack full of electronics parts. I finally had to label all the DC chargers with adhesive tape so I could tell which one is which. Of course, no two items use the same charger; I checked. I want to mention here some of the gizmos we AREN'T taking. No sat phone, no satellite modem for the laptop, no EPIRB (another kind of locating beacon), no HAM radio, no chart plotter, no LORAN, no fish finder, no electric razor, no iPhone-iPod or other iGizmo. No margarita maker. And the boat doesn't have a cabin. We're going minimalist.

Things are heating up!

Yesterday, our cute UPS man Armando brought by our new propeller. Shiny black freshly painted reconditioned used propeller. Fits perfectly. I tried it because I didn't believe it would. Tim was worried (excited?) that we might be in countdown mode so he rushed off to Santa Fe to buy some batteries for the kitty collars, deposit a check, go to the MVD to get a copy of the VIN number inspection form and then to the MVD Express to see if they are saving us a 2009 registration sticker (they aren't). Meanwhile I went out to the mailbox about every twenty minutes to see if the title had arrived from Maryland. Ralph the mailman was off duty today, though, and the other guy was slow so the mail arrived late. But the title got here! Along with a few loose ends--a yellow pennant that will fly from the top of the gunter (the thingie that holds up the top of the mainsail since the sail is a quadrilateral not a triangle), a transparent dry bag for the "yacht" log, and a snap shackle to connect the jib to the stemhead (arrrrgggh, mateys! Got your sealegs yet?). We also got two yards of sail fabric for repairs (what was I thinking? I could make a whole mizzen sail out of two yards). When Tim got back from Fanta Se, he vacuumed out the Nissan (about 3 years' worth of sand and gravel and a bunch of old pens and pencils and lip balm containers), while I went to the store to get some ziplocs for my wool that is getting moth-eaten, more lithium batteries (I am having doubts about our solar panel), and some chlorox for our seaside dish-washing. This evening, I organized my knitting projects. I always try to keep it to a minimum on the knitting, until the last minute, when I start fearing I won't have enough to do. Tomorrow I get to do the duty at MVD Express. Barring more issues, we should be rolling SOON.