February 2003 - Ship Logs

February 2, 2003 1730 Hours
27.41/114.53 Turtle Bay, Baja Norte

As calm and perfect a day (and night) running as one might hope. Almost nothing to see at night, fortunately, and little more during the day. A few whales, but that's about it. We're on the hook now in this rather desolate bay that provides one of what are said to be two good anchorage rest stops between San Diego and Cabo San Lucas, but it's 26', seems reasonably well protected, and not crowded at all so we're ready for a solid night of sleep. The harbor is surrounded by barren hills and there is a small village at the foot of the bay. Right now the sun is setting behind the cape which marks this place and the red reflections on the water are wonderful, but this scene does not rival sunset in the Gulf Islands where the sulfur in the air makes the whole scene look like a Hollywood film. I believe that the Captain is preparing some sort of beef joint for dinner so it promises to be a festive repast and a restful night.

Captain Mary Ann reporting: So it is now 4:22 p.m. and here we sit, The Mary Ann, anchored for the first time in Mexican waters. The place is Turtle Bay. It is not quite half way down the Baja peninsula. The small fishing village that has become our neighbor is fronted at the water's edge with a very large red and white sign. It reads "Bienvenidos a Bahia a Tortugas".

Whether there are turtles here I cannot say. I haven't seen any in the hour since we have been anchored here. But there is huge sea life. I can vouch for that. Coming into the bay I spotted a rock directly in front of us barely breaking the surface of the water and not showing on the chart. "Watch out for the rock”, I warned John in alarm. Then suddenly the rock moved. It was a gray whale. He saluted us with a spray of water and gave us a tail before moving on.

There is no Port Clearance in the Village of Turtles because there is no Port Captain. That means that, since we are not yet legal to set foot on Mexican soil, we will not be going ashore. But had we needed something from ashore it would not have been a problem. We had only just dropped anchor when a friendly panguero came out in a small boat to offer his services. Did we need to go ashore? He could ferry us. Did we have need of eggs, bread, honey, or maybe fresh vegetables? He could bring them. Did we have garbage we needed to get rid of? He could haul it out. Really, we needed nothing but, nevertheless, we were all eager to engage this pleasant fellow in conversation. It was a first opportunity to practice our Spanish. We are in a rather heated competition to determine which of is the more fluent in the language.

There are few boats in this anchorage . . . only the local fishing boats and a couple of small rather chewed up looking sailboats. All around us the barren hills and the equally barren patches of flat land leading down to the water make for a feeling of remote isolation. I love it!

Tonight we will celebrate this first anchorage in Mexican waters by cracking a bottle of French Champagne. We will dine by candlelight and my newly installed mood lights on the stern deck. I shall use the white china—because it looks the more elegant on the deck tables—and the Waterford crystal. Placido Domingo will be singing La Traviata and La Boheme as we enjoy the Prime Tip Roast and the Blue Cheese Salad that Arna and I have prepared.

So this is our life at sea. Until next time, Captain Mary Ann

10:00 p.m. Addendum. Placido Domingo lost out. We listened to some festival music coming from the shore. Considering our location, it seemed more exotic.

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February 3, 2003 1750 Hours
26.49/114.12 At Sea Baja Sur

A peaceful day in a following sea, bright sunshine, almost no breeze. Since leaving Sidney last September we have never taken any spray over the bow. How’s that for calm seas? We’re running at 1250 RPM making 10.0 knots over the ground and 9.2 through the water. Fuel consumption is 16 GPH, a little better than previously as I search for the best combination of speed and fuel consumption. This is definitely a 10 knot boat as cranking the engines up to 2350 RPM only gives another six or seven knots and the fuel consumption goes up well into triple digits. Somebody figured out the hull speed once and it was just a hair under ten knots, however it wasn’t the naval architect as he promised a speed of 23 knots or better. I wonder if he was smoking something.

The water is turning azure now and the dolphins are everywhere in schools of a dozen or more, racing along beside and ahead of us, squeaking their little noises as they cavort. Mary Ann thinks she is talking to them as she squeaks back, but I'm not at all certain they are on the same wav length.

Today we repaired the anchor winch control where the wires had come loose. Then we fixed the new canvas top where the snaps installed last week are coming loose. The gasoline that we took aboard in San Diego in the never used, built in, 100 gallon tank expanded in the heat and ran out of the swim step overflow drain, melting some of the goop that they put between teak decking. Luckily both tenders were nearly empty so we had a place to put some excess gasoline. It looks like the teak will be OK, but it is a little unsightly now. Kevin just called my attention to the fact that we have no running lights, only a mast light. Turns out that both the port and starboard bulbs are burned out. I have no idea how long that has been the case, but perhaps not too long as the starboard bulb blew as we were examining it. So we're running with a 225 degree mast light and two aft facing floodlights. I don't know how anyone could miss us, but I suppose we'll be getting calls tonight from outraged seamen calling our attention to the unusual lighting scheme.

The shallow water alarm seems to have a mind of its' own. Mary Ann awakened me last night at some awful hour growling about an alarm sounding, which turned out to be all four of the IS-15 devices, which have to do with depth of the water. Tweedle-tweedle, they sang in unison as we argued about who should get up and do something. I think that I screwed something up when I re-set the depth sounders to report in meters because the alarm was to sound at 3.5 meters and it called us to action at 9.0 meters of water. Today I tried to re-set the alarm or turn it off, but it kept telling me to remember the shallow water from yesterday and refused to allow itself to be changed. I think that the shipyards put these kinds of things into new boats on purpose to annoy the owners. My friend, John Griffin, told me that the last engine mechanic on a new boat always empties his pockets of all his left over nuts and bolts and throws them under the engine. Wish they had thrown a couple of running light bulbs down there.

Traffic is very light, almost non existent, only a couple of very small sailboats plugging along, wing and wing, barely moving. Boy that sure looks like a tough way to go someplace. We'll be running all night tonight and expect to make Mag Bay about 1100 tomorrow.

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Tuesday, February 4, 2003 Hours
24.35/112.04 Magdalena Bay, Baja Sur

We hauled in here yesterday about 1530 after another overnight run of 250 Miles. All calm water and uneventful, although it does seem at night in the pitch blackness as if we were hurtling uncontrollably through space, even at a gentlemanly ten knots. Of course you can’t see a thing ahead of you with your eyes so it’s then that I remember the stories about boats running into cargo containers that have fallen off ocean freighters. But we’re secure here in 7 meters of 22C water and the police haven’t come to arrest us even though this is our second anchorage in Mexico and I haven’t cleared the boat into the country yet. There was no place to clear at Turtle Bay and here the town with the necessary officials is 8.75 miles up a narrow waterway with a least depth of 4 meters. I was advised in San Diego not to attempt to get to the town, San Carlos, and when I got here that seemed like good advice. We tried to call the agent in Cabo San Lucas to see what advice he might have for us, but the satellite phone isn’t talking just now, complaining to us that (a) it can’t find a satellite, (b) the satellite we ordered is the wrong one, and (c) we aren’t dialing enough digits. The digital cell phones get a Spanish language intercept; that seems to be saying that we don’t have service to call out, although we have been able to receive calls. The analog telephone is getting the same ‘no service to gringos’ message. So all is normal, I guess. The depth sounders shut themselves off during the night for some reason, but they are working now for however long. The shallow water alarm still refuses to be shut off, but the time I anchored in a little deeper water to keep it happy.

Kevin threw in a line with a little shrimp on it an snagged a mess of some kind of little ‘perch looking’ fish last evening so we dined in style on the deck from the sea. They were just jumping at his lure so I expect that the fishing will be good hereabouts. The beach is covered with fish and birds as the local fishermen clean and dry their daily catch. We will throw in a couple of lines when we leave here and troll about six knots for a couple of hours to see what we can pick up for dinner. We’re off to a good start already today as we bought five langosta from a local fisherman for ten bucks. Life is good!

Cabo with the people and the music and the odors from the many restaurants cheek by jowl right in front of us. I never dreamed we would be so lucky and had anticipated having to anchor outside the harbor and come in by dinghy as we were told that the marina was full with a waiting list, which is why I hired my new best friend, Victor. The moorage rate here per day is comparable to any five star hotel (muy caro) and the service and security are excellent, except that there does not seem to be any room service. The dock water is not potable, or so they say, but we have two 50 amp plugs with 220v power and a few channels of cable TV. It was here that we learned about the terrible accident with the space shuttle and that the President has increased the threat level to ‘high'. We don't feel very threatened here, but I'll personally be damned glad when the army kills all those lunatic rug riding bastards.

You will be delighted to learn that we are again tied next to Aphrodite with our new pals, Roger, the skipper and Larry, from Minnesota, the owner. Imagine my joy when I asked Roger if he knew anything about single sideband radio and he said he had the same ICOM 710 radio that I have and that he would teach me to operate it. Turns out that Roger is an electronics geek and sets up yacht systems on a custom basis. He did the Aphrodite and now is doing a yacht for one of the Piggot clan. Not only that, but he suggested that I buy a piece of software that will interface the SSB with a computer so that I can pick up the wx charts from wherever they come from. I called Seattle and ordered the software from OCENS, Ocean and Coastal Environmental Sensing, Inc. (206 878 8270, if you need it) and Isabel, the housekeeper, is bringing it with her tomorrow when she comes from Seattle. So to my great relief we may actually be able to get some wx information soon. Of course we still have to learn to interpret the wx charts, but one thing at a time; how tough can that be?

But before leaving the subject of Roger and Larry, we were touring Larrys new boat, Aphrodite, the other day when Larry mentioned that both of them were single. About twenty minutes later he mentioned his wife. Wife, you have a wife? Where is she? In Minnesota, replied Larry. OK, says I, that's all I need to know about that. But apparently Larry got lonesome for the wife because yesterday he had aboard a very attractive blonde female who appeared to be in her early thirties and introduced her to us as a person (relationship not stated) from Minnesota. As Gary Etchells might say, there were definitely no bugs on her so I wondered if I should commend Larry about his good looking wife (or daughter), but I didnt.

We rendezvoused with Carol Hitchings after we arrived. She is staying this week at her condo at the Hotel Finnestere, located up the hill above the harbor perched on the rocky promontory and a visual display of Mexican engineering skill. A handsome spot for an evening cocktail, which we enjoyed with Carol and her friend from Pasco, Bernice. Then last night we had the two ladies here on the boat for dinner before they departed Cabo for home today. Carol is going on to Hawaii and plans to show up for the annual MBYC Maui pineapple land cruise. Bernice says she had it with this balmy beautiful wx and is homesick for the rain and cold of Pasco, poor girl. .

Sitting here in a row of large yachts I have observed that they all seem to have Captains, mostly young men, whose job appears to be overseeing the very industrious Mexican fellows who wash boats. I was told by an acquaintance who is Captain of the Roxanna, a 154' Admiral, that boat captains command a salary of $65,000 and up, while crew people are paid $35,000, more or less. I'm glad we didn't build crew quarters. I don't think I could handle supporting their lifestyle.

Our son, Kevin, has been an immense help aboard. He does have near coastal experience and is mechanically inclined so I have been asking him to do all of the little tasks aboard that require two arms above the waist. The boat is running well, but there are still a myriad of tasks to do and I’m thankful that I don’t have to do them all. I hope Mary Ann’s housekeeper brings her tools.

I’m waiting here now on the boat for the Mexican customs officer. We have been here several days and still have not cleared customs, but my man, Victor, says everything is OK and just to mention his name if anyone asks about our clearance. I have discovered that I do not have a hull number permanently attached to the boat either, so the customs agent may be an adventure.

2150 He came, the customs agent, accompanied by Victor who introduced me to Roberto, the agent. Roberto entered the engine room, glanced at the engine serial numbers, waved his arm about the missing hull numbers, and then sat down with Victor to chat. I made myself scarce until called to sign some papers and bid Roberto and Victor good-bye. So much for customs. After they left I went to the ferreteria (the hardware store) and bought some numbers like you put on your mailbox, screwed them to a stringer in the aft lazarette, and slopped some resin and fiberglass matting over them.

I now have my Coast Guard documentation number permanently (?) attached to the boat, which should be better than a hull number inasmuch as the CG doc numbers are the ones that appear on the title certificate. Just another day in the life of a master mariner tied to a dock in beautiful Cabo San Lucas.

I’m going to send this fascinating journal home with Kevin on a floppy and I’ll try to send some photos as well, but I don’t know how it will turn out. When I get a CD read write peripheral for my crashed laptop I’ll be able to send photos by mail if nothing better turns up. Still learning and experimenting. Be patient.

Report from Captain Mary Ann: Captain John did not give a full report on the boarding of our vessel by the customs officials. The food inspector took my chickens. All of them. And he made off with my one remaining lime. He could have confiscated the three dozen eggs I had aboard but, being quite a nice man, he suggested that I boil them and then I could keep them. He also gave me the opportunity to give the chickens the same treatment but I had not a vat large enough to cook them all at once so I parted with them. Slaving over a hot stove with the eggs had done me in. Until next time, Captain Mary Ann

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February 5, 2003 0925 MST
22/52/109.54 Cabo San Lucas

We had a final tiring overnight run from Mag Bay to Cabo San Lucas without incident, following a super brightly lighted large motor yacht most of the way as he slowly pulled ahead of us at a speed differential of one knot. Before dropping out of sight however, he was gracious enough to point out to me that I had no running lights and, upon being advised that both were burned out, gave me some gratis and unsolicited counsel about carrying spares. I expressed my gratitude for his regard for our safety and opined that he had so many lights on that one could not ascertain whether he had running lights or not, which pretty much was the end of our discourse. Adios, pendejo!

When I was awakened about 0800 after the 0500 to 0800 watch Mary Ann had a line in the water with a large bunch of blue feathers on the end and was watching it with the rear view TV camera. I figured that two lines were better than one so tossed the second line over and sat back to drive. An indeterminate time later, on checking the lines, I found my rod was pointing straight backward and the line was held to the reel only by the knot around the spindle. "Hold on, stop, turn left, we have a fish on,” I called to whomever was driving. The crew was galvanized to action, watching me reeling in the line, Mary Ann took over reeling, Kevin took over reeling, I took another turn reeling; not fighting a fish, you understand, just reeling in line. So finally, as Mary Ann was again reeling, we saw a flash of blue in the water. "A fish, a fish,” we all shouted like we had just seen Jesus walking on the water, "get the gaff hook!” "Oh, never mind,” said Kevin as he flopped a four pound tuna fish onto the swim step. We were all excited nevertheless knowing that we had already fulfilled out our ‘one fish per year' quota for fishing off the Mary Ann. Mr. Tunafish is currently residing in the refrigerator with his friends, the five lobsters, awaiting an auspicious moment to join us at dinner.

I had managed to get hold of Victor Berreta, a customs agent, before we arrived, which was no easy feat when you can't call out, and he had arranged a slip for us at Marina Cabo San Lucas so we pulled right in to an excellent slip with a port side tie right on the main malecon (walkway) in front of the big tower that you remember is right in the center of Plaza Las Glorias. It has to be the best possible spot to be here in

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February 12, 2003 1100 MST
23.22/109.25 Los Frailes anchorage, Baja Sur

We managed to drag ourselves away from Cabo this morning and in a way it was kind of a struggle because we had all of the creature comforts of home at the Marina Cabo San Lucas. But the open road calls so we hauled away at 0830, spending the first twenty minutes trying to get the recalcitrant Glendining power cord retractor to retract the power cord, but it finally saw the light and let us depart. The sea was very calm and rippled and l would be on top of the world except that the port generator is acting up and won’t stay on line to deliver power and I have not yet been able to locate the circuit breaker for it. Last time it did this it re-set itself after an hour so perhaps it will do so again. Thank God for two generators, but I’m going to have to figure this out and fix it somehow. The engine runs fine, it generates electricity, the electricity gets to the panel, the panel acts like it is supposed to act when I load it up, but no power flows through. I suppose any dummy knows what this all means, but … This place is a very suspect anchorage, hiding behind a smallish rock of a hill from the north winds but completely open to the east and the ocean. There is a big gash in the bottom near the shore where the water drops from 22 feet to 200 feet in a heart beat, which is what mine nearly stopped doing when I saw my secure position in 22 feet with 100 feet of chain down turn into a floater.

I re-anchored so near the shore that if the wind shifts we’ll be able to cook burgers on the beach, but the wx report seems to be for continuing northerly winds tonight and tomorrow. I couldn’t get the wx report from Blue Water Cruisers, a Canadian group who broadcast at 1800 daily on upper sideband 6209. I don’t know why I am not getting any reception because I have the device toggled to 6209, although I am not so sure what to do about ‘upper sideband’. I couldn’t raise our new friends on Aphrodite on SSB today at 0900, 1000, or 1100 either even though we had agreed to meet on 12A, 12B, and 12C at those hours. I am hoping that they didn’t turn their radio back on after I missed the 0900 meeting fiddling around with the power cord retractor. I’ll try again tomorrow and I also have another frequency for wx that comes on at 0900 in the morning to try to bring in. I’m going to get the hang of this stuff yet.

Report from Captain Mary Ann: We are just coming into Los Frailes where we plan to drop an anchor for the night. Now for the really good news. Caught three fish in less than an hour. We will now begin surviving off the sea. We are cooking the biggest one, which we have identified as a Spanish Mackerel, for dinner this very night. John says that no one eats Mackerel. But this is such a beautiful slender colorful fish. I can’t help but think that it will taste wonderful. Especially since Isabel and I have made up a very special recipe for the cooking of said fish. We are calling it Mackerel Perfecto! Until next time, Captain Mary Ann

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February 13, 2003 1840 MST
Los Frailes anchorage 23.21/109.25

As you see, we have moved. I was right about the anchorage being suspect. We were in 11 feet by afternoon today as the wind shifted from northerly to south and picked up to about twenty knots. So we were dragging in the sand apparently, even though I had 125 feet of chain out in 23 feet of water. We moved to a spot along the beach more protected from the southerly winds, but the wind shifted back so now we no protection from winds from either direction. That’s the kind of day it’s been. I decided to launch a tender today to visit the fishermen and tourist campers on the beach and about 1030 I started looking the tender over more closely as I have never launched either one of them, although they have both been in the water and tested. No mooring lines. OK, make some up. No plug for the boat. OK, where is it? Found a plug in the bottom of the boat, but it fits through from the outside so cannot run out the water while on plane. OK, so be it.

Cannot hook up gas tank to motor. Wrong fitting on tank. OK, use the small tank. Finally get in the water about noon. Boat immediately begins to fill with water so lift boat back up to put in plug. Put boat back in water. Motor starts right up, purring sweetly. &Maybe this is going to be all right,” I’m thinking. Head for the beach. Can’t drop the wheels, but get motor partly up before hitting the beach in one foot or so of surf. &;Jump out, you women,” I shouted, “and drag her up.” Isabel jumps out and disappears from sight. Mary Ann won’t jump, says the water is too cold. Boat turns sideways, undertow dragging Isabel out to sea, while water sloshes in by the barrel. Mary Ann decorously alights in six inches of water, boat flies up the beach propelled by an apparent tsunami that moments before was a one foot surf. &Nope,” I thought. &This is not going to be all right.” Isabel sputters to shore as Mary Ann and I work on getting the boat back in the water to abandon our beach effort, and Isabel. &;We have to get the stern out so we can run the motor.” &;OK,” says Mary Ann, as Isabel, now realizing that she was being abandoned, helps out. Water floods in over the transom as we back her out into the surf. A man walks by on the beach. &;Can I be of assistance,” he says? &;Is there some trick to this,” I say? &;Yes, I’ve launched hundreds of tenders into the surf. You have to launch bow first.” &;Oh, yeah. Bow first. Of course, bow first. I knew that.” He told us to get in the boat, waited for an appropriate wave, and adroitly twisted the boat around and shoved us all into the water. I start the motor, quickly realize that it was partly out of the water, release the catch holding it up dropping it on my hand, and away we went with just enough motor in the water for cooling. Perfect! A very professional escape. I tried to wave thanks to the man who had been so helpful, but he refused to look back. Probably had an important meeting or something.

The port generator is getting real cranky. Now it will only carry a load for an hour then gives up the ghost and goes off load so I have to run the starboard gen most of the time. I’ll give it one more chance to reform before I kill myself.

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Friday, February 14, 2003 1930 Hours
23.59/109.49 Bahia de los Muertos anchorage, Baja Sur

The wind died down in the morning so we left our anchorage and headed north around the foot of Baja. Seems like we should be heading east, but north it is and away we went, logging a gentlemanly 10 knots in flat seas while burning about 18 gallons per hour. I gave the port generator a chance to behave, but it flipped me off and wouldn’t take a load for even an hour so I guess I have to find somebody that can fix it in La Paz. I really don’t have a clue what is wrong with it, but the engine is running fine so it’s probably some little electrical foul up, I hope. About the time we were arriving here at Los Muertos (Bay of the Dead), I noticed that the port sight gauge looked like somebody had filled it with water while the starboard gauge looked like normal diesel. Now what could be causing that, I wonder? The port engine is running fine. That forced me to learn to operate the centrifuge, a device I had installed to clean fuel and had been putting off thinking about learning to operate, but the time was now so I studied her up and cranked it on. So far it’s still running, almost three hours now, and has processed about 550 gallons although the sight gauge fluid still looks like heavy water.

I have noticed in the past that fuel seems to change color from time to time, but have never seen it clear like water. Well, we’ll see how it turns out. Just as I sat down about 1800 to rest and have a beer, Isabel informed me that the hot water was kaput. I think it’s the circulating pump as there seems to be hot water in the tanks, but I’m not going to attack it until tomorrow. Maybe it’s something simple, I hope. The west wind is up and blowing briskly, but we’re secure here in this bay in 23 feet with 125 feet of chain out. Hope it isn’t as roly-poly as last night. Doesn’t this just sound like a wonderful trip? We have revised our guest list since leaving Cabo and now plan to invite only people with mechanical and electrical skills, and possibly some ‘small boat in the surf’ handlers.

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Report from Captain Mary Ann—February 15,2003
Bay of Los Muertos

It is 1800 hours here in the Bay of the Dead and the three of us contemplate: “Should we take the shore boat into the secret restaurant that we discovered this afternoon or should we dine on the boat?’ It shouldn’t be a tough decision. The Mackerel Perfecto that we served just a few days ago, we have renamed Mackerel Imperfecto. Before five bites had been consumed the fish had become the kind of leftovers that one does not save and so we chucked it into the sea.. Its school companions residing in the freezer soon joined it. Nevertheless, I await a decision from Isabel and John and take this time to make a report

It was a quiet anchor last night. We awoke up in the morning and discovered that the Port generator had decided to make friends with John. It has run perfectly throughout the whole of the day. As for the fuel: well, it looks like there are two colors to me . . . red and green. As far as I know, red and green are quite appropriate for fuel colors. And they are great at Christmas. The water pump is another story. John and I spent an hour an hour, at least, in the cramped storage space where lies the water pump circulator. All I can say is that we will be having cool showers for the next few days.

Since our disaster with small boat entry through the surf we have had the opportunity to observe two other small boats make a very successful entry to the beach. Also an exit. Having learned that one leaves the beach bow out, we felt fairly confident that it was a maneuver we too could perform. So in the late morning we gave it another try. Our performance was flawless. That is until it was time to lift the bow and began the wheel drag up the sand. We couldn’t lift the bow. Our next guests will be very young and have very good arm muscles. Probably they will be sail boaters.

There were rewards on our trip to shore. We had seen all of these Pangas—twenty seven of them—lined up and beached on the shore. But there was no seasonal fish camp in this lonely spot and no fisherman. There was one building nearby. It had a grass roof. It was open on three sides. There were some bright red flowers planted around it. We investigated and found it to be a restaurant. Surrounded by sea, sand, cactus, and barren mountains, it had been open only fifteen days. We ate there. The food was delicious. There were only five customers: a couple from one of the two sail boats and ourselves in thiThe couple turned out to be quite delightful . . . even though they were sail boaters. They said that they had seen us at Cabo San Lucas next to the Aphrodite. Funny how one keeps running into the same people. The sea is a little world, or at least smaller than one thinks. Until next time, Captain Mary An

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Sunday February 16, 2003 1935
24.19/110.20 Balandra Bay anchorage

Interesting day, if you like being bounced around like a basketball on a three sided court. We were at the bar of the new restaurant at Muertos (now renamed Bahia de Suertes) watching the Weather Channel last night and saw a big high pressure cell that seemed to be bringing weather joy over Baja like a down comforter in a Swiss winter so we left that relatively snug spot at 0900 and made our way north around the corner of Baja. Lots of wind, lots of waves, lots of to and fro as the stabilizers struggled to keep up with the water and, for a large part did so, however they still left plenty of action for us mortals to endure. I was glad when we finally pulled into this little cove with protection from the north even if the wind was blowing from the south. Right now, however, it’s calm and we expect a reasonably comfortable night.

The port generator is behaving itself and ran all day carrying it’s load of electricity to the various devices and appliances aboard. I don’t know what to think about its sporadic operating demeanor, but intend to call Valley Detroit Diesel in San Diego from La Paz and ask them about it as they are the Northern Lights distributor for this area. The hot water circulating pump has learned something from the generator as well and today was dispensing hot water instantly at the sinks but not in the showers. I don’t understand that either. I think they both need to go in for counseling.

This little bay has the distinction of having a lump of rock about the size of a small pony that stands on a single pedestal the size of one of the pony’s legs. The sea has eroded the lower portion of the rock and left just the single support. It does look pretty fragile. The bay is lined with campers from the US, as are a number of bays we have passed here in Baja. I always wonder what they do for water and sanitation in their campers and those bus things when they are out in the bush, especially about the water. I am told that some of them stay for months in the winter so they must have something figured out. They probably think we’re nuts too.

Tomorrow we’re going into La Paz where I hope to retrieve my office computer with its files of phone numbers and email addresses. I tried to call a marina in La Paz when we got here, but Mexico has changed all of the phone numbers, like Seattle only worse, and I can’t get Mexican information on a US cell phone. Ah, the hazards of foreign travel!

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Tuesday, February 18, 2003 1930
Marina Palmira, La Paz 24.10/110.18

Report from Captain Mary Ann—February 18,2003—La Paz. Here we are in a slip at Marina Palmira and a little less than two miles from the malecon and the downtown anchorage. We would have preferred to be right in the center of the city at Marina de La Paz but they had no room for a ninety foot boat. Anyway it will only take us a couple of minutes to take the shore boat into the city and, from all we have heard, we should consider ourselves lucky to even find a dock spot without reservations. Our position dock wise is not nearly as impressive as it was in Cabo San Lucas, but then neither is the price: $262/per day vs. $85/per day.

We will be taking new guests aboard this coming Friday: Our good friends from Meydenbauer Bay Yacht Club, Ed and Sharon Sweo. Having spent two years on these Mexican waters, the Sweos know what it is all about. We forgive them for being sailors because they are experts on the water . . . both of them

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Wednesday, February 19, 2003 2110
Marina Palmira, La Paz 24.10/110.18

We’re hanging out here waiting for a computer and some wires and plugs to arrive from Seattle. Whether they will arrive or not is problematic as, contrary to my instructions, it was shipped via DHL and as of yesterday was languishing in customs at Guadalahara. I met the agent here who helps with such things and mentioned to him that my package was perdido. He was noticeably pleased. “Well, of course I make my living taking care of things like that, so if you decide you don’t need me and do it yourself, well …”. Pendejo! I didn’t respond to his discourteous remark, figuring that he must be having a bad day. and left him feeling good about putting me in my place.

The radio guys came aboard today and discovered that the single sideband radio antennae tuner had no power and said that was the reason I don’t get anything on the radio. They also showed me how to tune for upper and lower sideband and I can now get Mexican AM radio, although as of now I still can’t seem to get anything useful on it. Ed Sweo is bringing a second set of the necessary wires and plugs for the weather fax SSB/computer hookup so maybe we will get some wx before too long, and I have found that there is a local gossip/wx rebroadcast every morning at 0800 on VHF 22 so I can start getting the local news as well. For example, there is a guy on right now advertising his restaurant specials for today. Also, I am told that for US$20 or so you can download all the wx you need direct from Stratosnet so I’ll give that a try today. All in all it’s reasonable progress on the weather (wx) front.

The other news of the day is that I undertook repair of the hot water circulating pump and flooded the utility/storage hold when I unhooked the pump from the water line without shutting off the pressure pumps. Fortunately Mary Ann was there with me holding the pump as I detached it so we were both drenched and I was able to shift a little of the blame for such a stupid mistake to her. Later, like Noah after finding a dry spot, I decided to call God, the plumber/electrician who was recommended by my new best friend, Franco, the boat washer. Carlos, the plumber/electrician/handyman, came about 1530, made tsk tsk noises and rolled his eyes at my mess, and inspected the pump electrical circuitry, determining that maybe it needed a new condenser. He left with the pump. He returned about 1730 with a ‘helper’ stating that a part had been lost and he would have to fabricate a replacement, but that he could do so and return with the reconstituted pump in an hour. I gave him $500 pesos for the fabrication. He returned about 1930 with Franco and two more ‘helpers’. He had managed to reassemble the pump into a new and interesting form, and between the four of them they got it installed and working, but the pump housing assembly was not properly seated or the gasket had been lost because under pressure it sprayed water across the utility room again.

In Carlos’ defense, he said he had found a detached or broken wire within the pump so he was able to make the repair that I could not, nevertheless I admit that I felt just the slightest bit smug that I was not the only fumbling Mr. Fixit to flood the hold. They detached the pump and left, saying that they would return later, maybe in two hours. That was about 1930. They hadn’t reappeared by 2330 so I went to bed. Now, after humiliating myself playing Mr. Fixit and then having to call in somebody to repair my repair, I sit here on a boat which this morning had at least some warm water and plenty of cool water but now has no water at all. And that is why I didn’t make a cutting rejoinder to the pendejo agent. Anybody can have a bad day.

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Saturday, February 21, 2003 2200 hours
Bahia de Suenos anchorage 23.59/109.49

Ed and Sharon Sweo are here now and we have returned to Bahia de los Muertos to anchor before crossing over to the mainland tomorrow. Tonight we had a dinner of dorado at the “Giggling Marlin” restaurant and qualified for the 10% discount, either because we were the only customers or, as they said, so we would tell all of our friends about the place. We saw Tyson knock out the “Black Buffalo”, or whatever he calls himself, in 49 seconds of the first round on TV. Actually a nice little oasis out here in the middle of nowhere. The owner, Steve somebody, was here with about ten of his buddies and told us he was finishing the airstrip, the golf course, and the 32 mile road to La Paz. Hell of an investment; must have cojones grandes. Scares me just thinking about it.

Mary Ann and Sharon are fishing off the back deck now because some fish are jumping in the middle of the night. Not sure if they are putting their bait in the water or waving it at them. The boys at the restaurant say that the dorado are biting about ten miles south of here along something they call a ‘shark line’, which apparently is a line of baited hooks on floats that somehow attract hammerhead sharks. Sounds sublime. We’ll check it out tomorrow.

I installed a new circulation pump last night. It took me two and a half hours because I kept hooking the three wires up wrong for some reason. You would think that with only three wires I could exhaust all of the possibilities in an hour or so, but not so. I finally got it installed just before 0200 and it worked, but this morning I still didn’t have instant hot water and I finally figured out that I had the pump in upside down so the water was running backwards through the pump. Actually I didn’t figure it out, I read the instructions … finally. At least I can read even if I’m not much of a mechanic. Ed was kind enough to confirm that, yes, indeed, I had hooked it up backward, although he did not look at me when he said it for some reason.

My best friend, Carlos the electrician/plumber, turned out to be more like Carlos the con man as he appeared back at the marina the other morning with the old pump in pieces saying that the real problem was that the shaft that holds the impeller was broken. It looked pretty broken to me too, what with the hammer and screwdriver marks and dents. Old Carlos is from the “… if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it…” school and since he couldn’t fix it he apparently decided to break it up so nobody else could fix it either. His idea was to put in a new pump that he happened to know where he could find. The new pump was a .5hp 5.0 amp job, which was to replace a 1/25thhp .67 amp pump. I asked him if he didn‘t think that his new pump would blow out the plumbing, but he assured me that it was just fine and that he replaced these pumps all the time. So I had to let poor Carlos go, but not before telling him to return the tools he and his pals had forgotten to leave on the boat. Isabel also told him to bring in the mystical part that he told me he had to fabricate, but apparently Carlos fabricated the whole story about the missing part because he never came back with either the new part or the money I had given him to have the work done. I felt pretty good that I got my tools back. Later the marina office told me something that I had not known but was beginning to suspect, that only idiots hire guys off the docks recommended by other guys on the docks.

So I called a yacht maintenance service in Fort Lauderdale and told them I needed a pump. They located one in Los Angeles soI flew up there yesterday and picked it up, returning in time for dinner at the Los Arcos hotel with Ed, Sharon, Mary Ann, and Ted King, who was here as Mate on a cruise ship plying the Sea of Cortez for the winter. Ted looks like a million these days, having shed at least seven tons over the past couple of years, and is enjoying his new employment on the cruise ship. It was great to see him and we all had a rattling good time comparing notes about local events and personalities. I was so hyped up after dinner from spending the day flying around chasing the pump that I decided to install it before going to bed, but it took a little longer than I thought. I’m pretty sure that I can spin it around so the little arrow is pointing the other way and maybe it will work like it is supposed to, but even so, at least we now have water, even if it’s just cold water, and the toilets are working again.

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Sunday, February 23, 2003 1600
At Sea 23.54/109.29

We’re crossing over to the mainland now, expecting to reach Mazatlan about 0800 or so. Seas are benign. Ed has reinstalled the upside down pump, readjusted and calibrated the IS-15 wind gadget, and spent an hour or so analyzing the hydraulic system in an effort to find out why the davit failed last night. My contribution today has been to unplug one of the heads. Everyone seeks their own level aboard the good ship MARY ANN.

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Friday, February 28, 2003 2230
21.29/105.15 San Blas anchorage

We’re rockin’ and rollin’ in the big anchorage outside San Blas in a northerly swell. We’re anchored in 26 feet with 125 feet of chain out on a mud/sand bottom with at least a mile to swing in every direction. It may not be exactly comfortable, but at least it is a secure spot. These Mexican anchorages all seem to be open to at least one direction and tonight that direction is the one from which the wx is emanating. We left Mazatlan this morning at 0630 and ran all day at 1300 RPM burning 19 gallons per hour and making 10.5+ knots, arriving here just half hour after dark despite my plan to arrive in daylight. I hate entering strange harbors after dark, but this one is very large and the bottom is flat for miles and miles at 25 to 30 feet depth. The seas were smooth until we got here and it was a pleasant day in the warm sunshine.