Mazatlan, Mexico

Work, Work, Work

Well after leaving Muertos we had a nice sail to Balandra Cove. We were heading to La Paz, it was just far enough away that getting there in one day was too much. So we left early enough in the morning to make it to Balandra in one day, which is only two hours outside of La Paz. But we had heard from quite a few people that La Paz was a tricky harbor to get into and we wanted to give ourselves the luxury of arriving exactly when we wanted and taking our sweet time getting in. Balandra was very pretty. We explored the tidal pools and rowed the dinghy on the glass like water. It was a peaceful and protected anchorage. It was just the type of place you hope exists every where: easy anchoring, beautiful and calm.

We arrived at La Paz with our stomachs in knots (we had heard more than a few stories of people grounding their boats in the confusing entrance and didn’t want to repeat those mistakes) we were very careful to keep a good watch and I looked through the binoculars to pin point the buoys that were there to guide us in. Red on the right and green on the left. We were on the edge of our seats until we had run the gambit of fourteen buoys I don’t know if it was so easy because we were so prepared or if it is just easy and the people who grounded their boats before us were not paying attention but we got into the harbor and tied up to our week long slip with no problems at all.

Normally we would not take a week long slip. It is expensive, but more than that it is not the type of cruising we want to do. We like to run on the road less traveled and it seems like the marinas are full of people who basically live on their boats but live in eternal protection from the world around them. But we had so much work to do: besides the many sewing projects I had lined up there were a number of major chores to be done, one of which involved removing our jib (the triangular sail that is in the front of the boat and on our boat in particular it is also the main support that helps to keep the mast upright) and our bow roller (the metal sheathing that covers the the bow of the boat). This is a major disassembly of the boat that would leave us unable to maneuver in the case of an emergency and it is hard to work on the front of the boat from a dinghy: a dock is far more stable. So off to the marina we went. It was a very different experience form the one I had envisioned, I am happy to say.

Cruisers on a whole are a social sort. Every person who passed as we did the extensive work of stripping the current bow roller off of the boat had some helpful advice, a willing extra hand when needed, spare “lubricant,” i.e.: beer. Our boat neighbors, John and Pam, were great and even got Brett to stop working when the sun went down for happy hour. The result was three days where we did our best through the day and ended up drinking our supper with our neighbors and some friends of theirs. During this time it was another neighbors birthday and I baked a chocolate chip pie. It was a big hit. Almost as big a hit as Pam’s gin martinis.

Taking off the bow roller was grueling work. Usually I cook and Brett does the boat work but this was a huge job and it was “all hands on deck” to get the job done. Getting the bow roller off involved sending Brett up the mast, bringing down an extra rope to secure it once the jib was removed, using that rope as a pulley to loosen the jib, loosening the side stays that connected the mast to the boat, removing bolts that had not been touched in eight years and stripping off a layer of fiberglass that was holding the original bow roller in place… I could go on but I am boring myself at this point.

Side Note: It is disconcerting to note that the mast is not bolted directly to the deck of the boat. It has a little hole that it fits snuggly into and is held in place by the tension on the standing rigging and the jib. So to loosen the jib enough to remove it means that you have to actually rock the mast forward by loosening its tension on the side stays. Even talking about it gives me a strange sense of vertigo: my life is held by this delicate balance of taught wire…. But this, I know, is in the name of safety. If, God forbid, the boat was ever to roll to the point that the mast was broken it would be easier to break free. Once it is broken from the boat it becomes the most dangerous object in the water if it is not promptly set adrift, or lashed to the deck if that is at all possible.

I was awarded the glamorous job of stripping the fiberglass from the inside of the anchor locker to remove the backing plate. This involved crouching in a three foot by three foot pit with a small hammer and a chisel and hammering away at the corroded fiberglass as it merrily drifted into my eyes. After a long day of manual labor of this fashion with aching muscles and itchy fiberglass splinters Brett said to me, “See, don’t you have a great sense of accomplishment knowing that you worked on the boat and you made it so much better?” Let me go on record now by saying that I in no way felt any reward from doing this sweaty, dirty job. I do not in any way feel that my life has been enriched by my time in the anchor locker and I can only pray that I will never have to do that kind of work again. During this week of nonstop work I also made some hangers for our towels so that they will no longer fall on the floor, I feel an immense sense of satisfaction for those and am happy every time I look at them 🙂

The week shot past like a bullet and we had little time to spare for exploring La Paz. I spent the last day in La Paz cooking and cleaning. I made any number of dishes in preparation for our two day crossing. If it was going to be rocky and uncomfortable below I wanted to be prepared with ready meals that could be made with minimal time and discomfort below. Everything from banana bread to meat loaf was stuffed into the fridge and when we left for Mazatlan I felt that we were ready and the boat was ready. And even though this was going to be our longest crossing with just the two of us (two nights at sea!) I felt no nervousness at all. If anything I was ready to move on and get to warmer weather, because while La Paz is nice there was a layer of clouds that hung over the harbor for our entire stay and I was itching for sunshine.

We left La Paz in the morning and had a great run to Mazatlan with the wind behind us and pushing us along. With such a short hop we decided on longer shifts at the wheel so that we could each got some good sleep. During the day we napped until we woke and then relieved the other to go and nap. We made it in great time and with maximum comfort. My nerves are definitely dissipating and I did not feel the same trepidation that I felt when leaving my previous ports.

In Mazatlan now and have enjoyed the sunshine and the city. It is a lovely place with long beautiful beaches and statues everywhere. Yesterday we walked from our anchorage, and along the five miles of beach. There is everything from the whimsical cave entrance that is protected by red gates and a pitchfork with the name Diablo (the Spanish word for Devil) to the graceful bronze statues of what I think is Aphrodite emerging from her shell with some male escort. But what I will always remember about Mazatlan is the crazy lookout towers that are built over the frothing windswept ocean rocks. The most amazing thing about these is that they are devoid of any railings and the narrow steps are exposed on either side to a deadly drop, ocean damp and a strong breeze. During the day there are men who climb these towers and dive into the waves below. It is at least a fifty foot plunge to the ocean below and the spot where he lands is only deep enough for his survival when there is a large wave under him. You can see them timing their jump with the highest wave available and they are back to the surface in a flash. It must be very shallow.

It is Carnival and there will be fireworks, live music and the crowning of the king and queen tonight. I am tempted to stay in and do some sewing projects that I have set my mind to but know that I will regret it if I do not go. So funny to be in these exotic ports and still, sometimes all I want to do is stay home. Luckily I can do both.