Cabo!

Wednesday we enjoyed some of the sweetest sailing possible, on our final stretch to Cabo - warm and sunny, flat seas, perfect breeze on our quarter; it was heavenly ;-) Too nice to use the auto helm; Pamela and I took turns driving until the sun set - taking the wind with it.

We drew for watches and I pulled the 2-4AM watch :-P but not too unpleasant as the weather is mild now, and the stars - in the moonless night - incredible! I've seen several shooting stars and have been making wishes galore on this trip ...

After my watch I headed back to bed and slept soundly until the seas built and I ended up bouncing around in the forepeak (aka 'Woman Cave') soon I was airborne, as the bow bounced up and down but as I glanced out the window I spotted hotels! Land! We'd exceeded expectations and made it to Cabo San Lucas at dawn, rounding the corner and setting the hook -in really wild seas - by 8:30. Eventually we got a slip assignment and squeezed into the busy marina and a nice berth right near the Cantina. After 10 days at sea and in remote anchorages, the sites and sounds and volume of people in Cabo are truly overwhelming.

Drinks, showers, more drinks, drop off the laundry, more drinks ... we are chilling aboard TUG TUB now enjoying some R&R - back to work (and more writing) tomorrow.

In the meantime, here are my thoughts from earlier this week ;-)

What day is today anyway? Tuesday, November 2 ...

Last night’s ‘singles party’ (@BSM) was sheer mayhem. Paul and Dan had gone over early to set up the Tugtub while Pamela and I made dinner and our contribution to the potluck: a pumpkin spice cake decorated with a jack-o-lantern face made of craisins, almonds and pretzel sticks. We were visited by a few trick-or-treating kids (who all bellowed ARGH! when they approached in their dinghies) – donating Tootsie Pops and Oreos (not envying the parents with sugar-loaded kids aboard ...) When we returned to the raft-up an hour later the catamaran in the middle was sagging with HUNDREDS of people. I had to dinghy-hop with the painter across four layers of dinks; we tied up and clambered aboard the boats, where scores of drunken sailors covered every inch above and below decks. Empty bottles, cans and cups were strewn everywhere, sparsely clad young women talked with dirty old men sporting way too much facial hair ... ‘Doo-doo-doodoo, doo-doo-doodoo; -- we were stuck in a time warp! Paul tried his best to demo the hot tub but people were too wasted. Together we rescued a guy who fell between two of the rafted boats, and right before we left Pamela and I came upon a woman sprawled on deck so peculiarly, I bent over to check her pulse. We coaxed her (with much dragging & prodding) into the cockpit where at least she wouldn’t roll off the deck and do a Natalie Wood on us. It wasn’t a pretty picture, and we were glad to get back to TUGTUB where we enjoyed the last of our tequila in the peace and safety of our own vessel!

Today was the big beach party ashore: we convinced Diego, the panga driver who sold us some gasoline, to return at noon to taxi us ashore, so we could avoid the catastrophic dinghy landing in the rolling surf. He returned in his cornflower blue panga to zoom us across the anchorage and ashore to the playa. On the bluffs above was a surreal scene – a mass of colorfully-dressed people gathered around tents with a band trucked in from La Paz (125 miles away); a shrimp and fish taco stand (the line took about 1 ½ hours to negotiate); fishermen selling cold Pacificos; and a table for margaritas: meticulously measured out and mixed – one at a time – by one of the fisherman’s wives. The surrounding hills and beaches, the expanse of sand dunes and mangroves that stretched out for miles, were all vacant. Our hosts were delightful; the young fishing wives (with their broods of children) shy but smiling; the fishermen gregarious and helpful. Diego was waiting at the beach for us when we departed, and sped us across the bay to our boat. It was a fun day, followed by an awesome dinner of grilled steaks and then final prep for our 4AM departure tomorrow (Wednesday) enroute to Cabo!

Nov. 3

Even before 4AM Dan was rusting throughout the cabin -- peeking into the woman cave (AKA forepeak) to wake me, and I refused.

"It's 3:53 - I have seven more minutes," I snarled, pulling the covers over my head. But soon we were all up, layering on foulies to protect us from the cold and dew. The night before we had all prepped our gear and the boat, so it was an easy departure. We dodged several boats at anchor, and a few other early birds getting a head start on the day, and left for Cabo.

Thwarted in our efforts to catch fish of meaningful size, we discovered the culprit: foraging for a packet of mashed potatoes we found some banana nut muffin mix. Banana! No wonder we can't catch fish! So as soon as we were outside BSM we made coffee and muffins, then threw the lines out as dawn broke over Mag Bay.

2PM - what a lazy day this has been! The wind hovered around 3k all morning. I took my position on a cushion on the rail and slept in the warm sun. It was calm enough that Paul grilled hotdogs on the bbq on deck!

I finally brought in 'the lucky lure' (it was not) and put out 'big red' - my huge red and white cedar plug. This lure has the sexiest motion i've ever seen: how fish can resist it, i do not know. But the score remains 'TUGTUB: 0' in the catching department - meanwhile our friends on RED SKY have nailed five bonita and one yellowtail!

Later, while the guys each napped, Pamela and I took the autohelm off and started NBBF (navigating by bottom features) in an attempt to find fish. It was useless, but in that time the wind crept up to 12 knots and we hoisted the asymetrical kite again. It was a perfect afternoon sail with flat water and pleasant breeze - making an average 7.5k on rhum line! We have had some really delightful sailing on this trip; confirming Pamela and Pauls' confidence in their skills as they get ready to launch their big trip.

Update from BSM

10/31

"FISH ON!"
What sweet words to wake up to, as I napped on deck during my off watch. I'd dragged a cushion out of the cockpit to enjoy the warm sun; over time I'd felt the breeze pick up and cool, and now here was Dan – looking like a gigantic excited five-year-old – pulling in his first EVER fish: a teensy (but ambitious) yellowtail that looked even tinier being held up by a burly man with a week-old scruff of beard. Soon after we released 'Little Jack' the wind filled from the perfect angle and we hoisted the asymmetrical kite. The crew humored me and let me drive several hours, 'til it was finally time to start dinner. Now, 28 hours later, we're still under sail (wing & wing with the big genny) with another six or seven hours to Bahia Santa Maria.

Since I last wrote we enjoyed the official Baja Haha beach party at Bahia Tortuga. Having missed the costume party in San Diego (as we were still loading every nook and cranny of TUGTUB with stuff) we finally got to wear the Chilean Miner outfits Pamela put together. We thought we looked cool (and authentic) but were mistaken for a hazmat team, Texas longhorns (huh?), or boaters merely suited up with helmets and safety vests for the rowdy dinghy dismount in the surf.

There at the far end of Turtle Bay, at an otherwise deserted beach beneath barren toasty hills, was a massive potluck, with volleyball, tug-of-war and monkey golf games; beer, music and line dancing lessons (we were JUST getting the hang of it when Achy Breaky Heart played for the last time... ) When we got back to TUGTUB we soaked in the hot tub – letting it out on a long painter so we could drift way behind the boat. Floating in the 110° degree water, in the gently tumbling motion of the cove, was like being in a womb! Fittingly, I slept like a baby that night.

The next morning we had a 'rolling start' for the leg to Bahia Santa Maria (BSM), which lasted several hours until the wind came up. It has stayed up – getting kind of rowdy at night, and Pamela and I did some 'PRB' during our 8PM-Midnight watch. No, not "Pre-Race Beers" but "Professional Bull Riding" – as the motion of the big seas bucked us forward and aft, side to side, strewing anything that wasn't perfect stowed or tucked away, throughout the interior of the boat.

We've had a few more 'incidents' too (Pamela insists there's a force field that is attracting metals to fail, while repelling fish*) and yesterday all our Bob the Builder tools were out for several repairs - too lengthy to get into, but nothing so involved we couldn't fix. (*While I'm at it: Pamela and I are tied for the "DOH!" award: she for putting her line out all day yesterday with the little rubber safety tips still on the fishhook ;-)~ and me for making the GPS receiver go out whenever I go to the back of the boat : -? My hips?!)

A streak of golden orange greeted us this morning on our 4-8AM watch, as the sun rose out of the Pacific. Like a bright jack-o-lantern, it popped suddenly over the horizon, heralding a clear, sunny holiday. Happy Halloween! It has been a great day with lots of treats and no tricks; we are still under sail hoping to arrive in BSM around midnight; the beers are chilling and we are eager to anchor and get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep! "Gnite & love to all. Miss you! ~Betsy- Mom

ADDENDUM

11/1 (All Saints Day and Erin's Birthday!)

TUGTUB joined the parade of boats filing into Bahia Santa Maria: like the jets lining up at LAX -- waiting our turns in perfect intervals, as we negotiated the entrance in the dark night. "BSM" is a bay at the head of the much larger Bahia Magdalena (Mag Bay) with little more than a few fishing huts; although it resembled a carnival at night with the hodgepodge of anchor lights of assorted heights, the red and green lights of boats still motoring in, steaming lights, deck lights, and the occasional strobe signaling another particular boat.

This morning's roll call was postponed due to an emergency: a boat (not participating in the Haha) had gone up on the beach just outside BSM and the Poohbah and crew were rallying volunteers (over 50 turned out) to hike to the site (2-3 miles) to help salvage valuables and equiment off TACHYON before high tide. Pamela, Paul and Dan went; leaving me on anchor watch. I spent my day cleaning up the carnage from the past few days, peeling dried up squid off the decks and scrubbing their inky crime-scene outlines off the non-skid. (I thought about fun deck scrubbing KANALOA ;-) - I miss you LB!) and had plenty of time to contemplate. TUGTUB was spotless by the time the rescue team arrived home; now we're all enjoying a little down time before heading over to a raft-up party tonight. We're bringing the hot tub of course, snacks and drinks; tomorrow is the big beach party ashore – with a band, and vendors selling fish tacos and cold beers, all trucked into this remote fish camp from quite a distance. Insane!

Wednesday (I think. I'd hardly know what day it is, if not for the torture watch...) we leave for Cabo* – another overnight sail – and will stay there long enough to celebrate our passage, get laundry done and provision some fresh veggies, then it's off to La Paz – another two or three days, stopping each night. Looking forward to the warm water and climate of the Sea of Cortez! Although it is sunny here there's a cool breeze in the anchorage, and a swim is not too appealing (-- yet! Not til the hot tub is in!).

It is magnificent to be at sea, enjoying life at this pace, and the natural beauty of God's creation. I am feeling well and having a wonderful time with the folks on TUGTUB. But I am missing my loved ones, and sending you all warm wishes and big hugs. XOXO Betsy/Mom.

(*I hope to find an internet café in Cabo)
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Baja Ha Ha

THURSDAY

"Heaven, I'm in heaven ..." Pamela is crooning in the corner of the cockpit as we enjoy breakfast here in Bahia Tortuga (Turtle Bay), 360 miles south of San Diego on the west coast of Baja Mexico. We're having a BLAST! Everyone is well and happy, the boat is awesome, and tonight we are planning a party in our floating hot tub. SWEET! Following are notes from our delightful passage so far. Sending love to all –Betsy/Mom.

10/25

Dry. Boating.

The challenge: use these two words, truthfully, in a sentence.

Impossible. My experience is, they're just incongruous.

It rained all night prior to departure, and we listened for the telltale drip-drip-drip of previously unknown leaks. There are very few, but the deck and everything on it (still waiting to be stowed), is drenched. Ashore, the bathrooms have been cleaned (with a fire hose, it appears) and every surface is flooded. Then Pamela and I venture to top off the water tanks and the hose breaks loose, dancing wildy on the deck, saturating everything in its perimeter. By the time we start, I'm soaked. (Thankfully I have all my socks and thermals in ziplocks -- hey, this isn't my first rodeo.)

It's 3PM when we finally depart San Diego, missing the big Baja Haha parade and sendoff. But we're glad everything is finally stowed – from Apples to Zincs, you might say – our tanks are topped off, we have a new phone (for use with our temperamental satcoms) and we are ready!

10/26

Yesterday was dreary: lumpy seas with just not enough oomph in the breeze to thrust us through, so we wallowed south under grey skies.

But 24 hours into it, Pamela is dancing to the Black Eyed Peas ('I've Gotta Feeling'). Blue sky is breaking through, we've successfully made water and several meals, and the wind has built to 15-20 knots – just enough for TUGTUB (a very comfy Irwin 43) to push through the huge seas.

We've caught up with a few boats despite our late departure. There are various makes and models of vessels out here, all with their unique sail plans (jib and no main, full main and staysail, all sails set, or none ... ) to battle the lumbering seas that smack our beam as we course south.

As for TUGTUB, we're sailing under reefed-down genoa and main making about seven knots. It's rolly but at least predictable, and by now we know exactly when and where to brace ourselves as the boat heaves.

10/27

With every tick of latitude we drop, the pleasure meter climbs.

Today's the day we've been waiting for! This sun is shining. We set the kite. Take showers, and don t-shirts. Throw the fishing lines out. The seas have evened out and no-one is queasy or drowsy or experiencing any form of malaise. We are rolling lazily toward Bahia Tortuga, on Day Three of the Baja Haha.

Somehow you wish the first leg weren't the longest, but geographically that's impossible. We are doing great, but there has been a bit of carnage in the fleet overnight. Pamela sat patiently through the roll call listening to casualty reports, waiting to check in. We heard of a broken forestay and a dislocated hip, an issue with a stuffing box, and somehow, just three days out, an already depleted supply of diesel.

Now, after several ups and downs and variations on our sail plan (you can take the girl out of the racer but you can't take the racer out of the girl) we're motor-sailing in the waning sun: happy to have the engine on, as it means hot showers and cold beers when we arrive. Paul and Pamela are curled up in the 'love nest' aft; Dan is at the helm, listening to some unknown tunes; and I'm on the rail enjoying the last rays of warmth, and the vast beauty and serenity of the sea.

ADDENDUM

Pollywogs of light dance on the oily sea -- we're thankful for the three-quarter moon illuminating our landfall into Bahia Tortuga. Still it's daunting, and we compare the paper and electronic charts, the radar, the description in Charlie's Charts, and a hand-drawn map Holly scribbled out at a pizza parlor ... Picking our way through dozens of anchored boats (looking so much like the fake fireflies at Disneyland's Pirates of the Caribbean ride) we finally choose our spot, drop the anchor (and 225 feet of chain) and set. Pamela breaks out a bottle of chilled champagne, cheese and crackers (and subsequently, some wine ...) and we celebrate a very successful voyage!

After two days of fun here, we'll depart Saturday for Bahia Santa Maria, another 200-some miles along the coast. Over & out!

Oct 29

We bypassed the crowded palapas at the foot of the rickety pier (pocked with holes and rotting planks of arbitrary lengths, you must truly watch your step on the Bahia Tortuga wharf -- particularly on the way back to the boat, if you've imbibed in a few cervezas!) and instead wound our way to our favorite – Carlos y Mercedes -- on the east side of the calle principal (main drag). There, of course, we ran into people we know: Mike and Kelly Priest, Haha'ing aboard the Swan DEFIANCE. Mike tipped us off to the softball game about to begin, Kelly recommended the lobster burritos, and they took off.

Dan insisted on tequila for the crew, so we enjoyed a few shots and beer chasers, with our lunch; then picked our way through town (the entire place is like a construction site: all dirt strewn with rocks and cinder blocks, lumber, rebar, and other debris) to the ball park. Built in the 1960s, the stadium has been in disrepair for the last few decades. Mike, a professional delivery captain, transits through Turtle Bay several times a year, and found out about his friend Benito's renovation project ... so he rallied the Baja Haha fleet to bring gear, equipment and toys for the kids, AND challenge the locals to a game.

It was in full swing when we got there – a bit puzzled, as we tallied five 'outs' during the inning we arrived. The Grand Poohbah (Richard Spindler) pitched the entire game ... no-one was counting balls or strikes ... fouls caught by the pitcher weren't considered 'out' ... truly it was 'sandlot rules'. But the stadium was PACKED, ranchero music was blaring, vendors were selling beer and popsicles, and people were cheering and laughing. Pamela and I were rooting for the locals – mostly kids, in spanking new uniforms – as they clearly outdid our ragtag team. It was an absolute riot -- tons of fun -- and after the game, Richard and Dona handed out toys and equipment to a queue of eager children. How warming to see the Haha-ers give so generously to the community hosting us these few days.

Later we visited a small market to pick up eggs, beer, potatoes and boxed milk ... struggling with our rusty Spanish (sometimes blurting out the French equivalent: whoops!) to get the right stuff, then ventured back to the boat to make fresh pizza and watch the movie BORAT – projecting it onto a jury-rigged 'screen' made from a bedsheet lashed to the back of the bimini. This trip has brought me to a new level of decadence in sailing (I think they call it 'cruising' :-?) and a lot of JOY! This afternoon we'll add to the debauchery when we anchor off the beach party and deploy our floating hot tub ;-). Yes, we are having happy times on TUGTUB!!

PS – Hol, gave your regards to Ruben who came by with diesel this morning!

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the pre-party party

All the Baja Haha is a party (well except for the offshore sailing part) Here's our crew the night before departure (joined by Holly the Boat Fairy) L-R: Paul, Dan, Pamela, Holly, Betsy

the saga continues ...

The boat was mounded with stuff above and below: boxes, tools, clothes, packaging, cushions, parts, food, wrappers, dog biscuits, lines ... every inch was covered with all sorts of junk. Paul sat in the middle of it all, smiling ear to ear. He and Pamela are the nicest people, and are thrilled (despite the normal what-the-heck-are-we-doing jitters) to be making their long-term cruising dream come true. I am just as thrilled to be joining them!

We leave San Diego Monday morning, for Turtle Bay ... after a day or two there we head to Bahia Santa Maria, and after a day or two there we continue south to Cabo San Lucas. We and 195 of our closest boat friends. I expect it to be a bit chaotic, a lot of fun, some great sailing experience for us all, and a bit crowded in the anchorages!

After Cabo, we'll turn left and head up to La Paz. That will be the sweetest part of the trip I think, when the air and water are warm and we can swim and snorkel in the Sea of Cortez! Look for me back at home around November 11...

“The cure for anything is salt water ..."

Since I’ve been house sitting Susan & Joel’s Newport Beach home (‘The Loveshack’) I had the unusual task of ‘commuting’ this morning back to Seal Beach – in the drowning rain, on slick streets packed with petrified fair-weather California drivers. Punching through the radio buttons annoyingly, I clicked on one station just as the deejay was speaking the words of Psalm 103:12, “He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west ... Throwing our sins into the depths of the sea!” he added, paraphrasing Micah 7:19.

Wow! What a welcome reminder. I've been weighed down by this bad guy rap, and GLADLY I will say: it doesn’t fit. It doesn’t look good or feel good, and it is high time I shed that encumbering cloak once and for all. I don’t want it, nor the self-effacing, self-fulfilling prophecy it carries in its pockets. It is not who I am nor who I want to be.

“And I will forgive their wickedness, and I will never again remember their sins.”Hebrews 8:12. How awesome that we have a ‘forgive and forget’ God! But of course, this is God speaking. If only we mere mortals were as ... God-like (there’s really no other definition – it is so contrary to human nature). We cling to hurt and painful memories; afraid to forgive, loathe to forget. Hunched over in shame, we carry our guilt like heavy boulders taped to our backs. How sad.

I was reminded today that God’s greatness is bigger than our screw ups. GOD'S GREATNESS IS BIGGER THAN OUR SCREW UPS!! Every time. There is hope. “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” says Psalm 34:18. I continue to pray this blessing on my friend.

Incredibly, God has chosen to send me on an all-expense paid vacation to La Paz, Mexico. (Well okay, I’ll be working plenty ... but still – it’s not Alcatraz.) While I'm more used to getting the 2 X 4 to the temple, or drop kicked to the end zone, this is an incredible blessing! I will be sailing with a really lovely couple, on a comfy boat with furniture and a galley and a portable hot tub; we will be traveling south to WARMER climes, on the ocean ... which heals me.

“The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea” wrote Isak Dinesen (aka Karen Blixen). I am eager now to give the sea its turn.

ADDENDUM: DEFINITION OF AMNESTY

I am reminded of the definition of ‘amnesty’ – stemming from the Latin term amnēstia: ‘forgetting’. It means to overlook, or forget (a transgression); can also be used to define the period of time during which offenders can admit a crime without fear of prosecution; or, finally – refers to the actual act of liberating someone. Liberating. The term 'amnesty' evokes leniency, mercy, and compassion ...

the power of love

This weekend I was lucky enough to hitch a ride on a two-day learn-to-sail cruise to Catalina.

The students were being taught hands-on sailing skills, so I was truly ‘deck fluff’ with absolutely nothing to do. Even before we left the dock Friday morning, I made a little nest in the forepeak and tucked away. In and out of slumber I could feel the boat start to heel as they set the sails ... the chop of the waves as the wind picked up ... and the boat settle down again when we entered the lee of the island. I deliciously lazed and lolled in the v-berth, listening to the water rush past the hull, and did absolutely positively nothing.

That evening, with the students ashore, another friend rowed up with a dinghy full of groceries: bread, salad greens, wine and bugs: Pacific lobsters. While the fat lobster tails steamed in beer and bread warmed in the oven, we made garlicky butter to dunk it all in. Fantastic. We reminisced about past trips and fancied new adventures. It is good to have friends who share your wanderlust (dangerous too, perhaps) to encourage, conspire, or just dream.

Saturday

Amidst a fitful chaos of dreams – you have strange dreams on a boat! – I remembered (unusually) a vivid scene: There were many of us traveling on a highway – boats, trucks, vans and campers – all on the same road (this is a dream, after all), through all kinds of weather, including a towering wall of snow. Then, at a rest stop, I saw an old friend and coworker, Bert.

Bert was a tall, older Southern gentleman who told corny jokes in his slow Tennessee drawl and was quite the dancer. He was always courteous, friendly, professional and neatly dressed. Now I have not seen Bert in over 20 years: but the smile was unmistakable. In my dream, when he saw me he rose up from his wheelchair(?), and I saw that his face was gaunt, and his baggy jeans held up by a belt cinched around his waist. We embraced, and even though he’d appeared thin and weak, I had to stretch to reach my arms around across his broad back, and he hugged me very tightly. Tears of joy flowed freely, and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth and love. Then he vanished.

I woke up. Rarely do I remember dreams so acutely, and I was puzzled. I looked out through the hatch – thousands of stars were visible on the black sheet of the sky. I don’t know if Bert is still alive or has passed (we lost touch when I moved to California) but I treasured the ‘visit’ – and the reminder that the power of love can transcend miles ... ages ...and realms ... and it is more powerful than the sorrow, pain and disappointment that have been my recent companions. I felt the intense love in his presence, I was filled with joy, and my headache was gone.

I slept soundly until 8AM when the Harbor Patrol rapped on our hull to hurry us off our mooring can. The kids again took care of all the boat chores and I could barely pitch in to do a few dishes; mostly I lollygagged on deck enjoying a lovely sail. The perfect combination of warm sun and cool breeze hung with us the entire crossing. At one point a pod of Risso’s dolphins lumbered slowly by – 12 abreast, commanding the sea like a pack of Harleys taking up the whole freeway; a 'pod' of colorful kayaking children passed us too - their bright yellow paddles splayed every which way, and laughter ringing across the water.

What an incredible blessing these days have been; nurtured by friends, graced by the beauty of nature, and reminded of the infinite power of love.