Saturday, April 19, 2014
Ocean Safari
Finally, we are moving! Although the weather information that we have downloaded says that there was not supposed to be much wind last night and today, we are finally on a course and speed that puts us ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, we are still making up time from our fight against the wind and then a few periods where we were completely becalmed, bobbing on an absolutely flat, clear sea. We are currently about 2700 miles from our destination.
Dolphins are our constant companions day and night racing the boat, flipping and spinning up into the air. I know they are out there but it always makes me jump a little when I am sitting in the cockpit at night and suddenly hear the sound of their blow holes only feet away. It was especially shocking when I heard a much louder gush of spray and air and realized that a whale had surfaced just feet from our boat. We generally try to avoid getting too close to whales as they are about as big as we are and can cause serious damage to the boat (not to mention the poor whale!). Adam was in radio contact with a boat while coming down the Oregon coast that became disabled after they, most likely, hit a sleeping whale. However, this whale was most definitely not asleep and most of the time it seems like they approach us because they are curious. Adam always says we should try to talk to them and then begins to make all sorts of horrible sounds which he maintains is "whale speak." This whale checked us out and then, most likely realizing that we were not another whale, went quickly on his merry way.
Although Adam has not yet had any response from the whales he was able to communicate with some of the local wildlife last night. Similar to the famous blue-footed boobie of the Galapagos, Mexico has a very healthy population of yellow-footed boobies which we have enjoyed watching as they fly around us and dive from 40-50ft to catch fish. We also spend some time cursing them when they decide to poop all over our decks.
There are still a number of birds way out here and they often like to hitch a ride on our boat. Last night one perched itself directly on the top of our mast and stayed there most of the night. This was not a problem until around midnight when I noticed the lights of a fishing boat that seemed to be getting closer very rapidly. The boobie was sitting right in front of our tri-color light -- the green, red and white light that lets other boats know we are here and which direction we are going. I was worried that with the bird there the fishing vessel could not see our lights! Adam was just coming on shift so I asked him to flash the tricolor and anchor light to try and scare the bird away. This, unfortunately, did not work. He then tried to give his loudest velociraptor scream up the mast through the hole in the cabin, again to no avail. As an aside, if you have not heard Adam's velociraptor scream you should ask him next time you see him, seriously, it is straight out of Jurassic Park. Next, we got out the foghorn and finally received some response from the bird but not the one we were hoping for. We squawked at it and it squawked back at us, but didn't budge. By this time the fishing vessel was close but we were clearly not on a collision course so we let the bird be. He was still there when I came back on watch three hours later. I have to say that bird must have one solid stomach to sit on that mast all night long, it made me dizzy just trying to watch him!
You may assume that our boat is the only thing for miles around that the birds can land on without getting their feet wet, but this is not the case. Yesterday, the day of boobie shenanigans, we also saw four of these birds fighting over who got to hitch a ride on the back of a sleeping sea turtle. They were making such a racket that the turtle eventually swam away but we enjoyed the show as each one tried to swoop in and knock the others off to gain a little respite in the middle of the big blue sea.
Stay tuned for more from the S/V Moments. Trade winds here we come!
Posted for Rachel and Adam by Lori Hughes
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
And They're Off...
4/15/13 - 10:39 local, 15:39Z
We have left Mexico! The sign-out procedures were (as anticipated) a bit of a circus but both immigration and the port captain were very helpful to make sure we were able to leave with all of the necessary paperwork. We left at 3:20PM on Sunday and are now just beginning day #3 on the sea.
Although winds were predicted to be from the northwest we found out very quickly that they were actually coming from right where we wanted to be going! Sailboats cannot sail directly up wind. Instead you have to tack back and forth in a zig-zag pattern so that the wind hits your sails at an angle and (just as in an airplane) uses lift and the momentum of the wind to propel you forward. When tacking to get somewhere up wind you not only move slower because the wind blows you back a bit but you also have to cover twice or more ground than you would if you were headed straight from point a to point b. So this is where we are.
Luckily the wind was reasonably strong and the swell was low so we covered 60+ nautical miles towards Hawaii in the first 24 hours and by now have covered close to 180nm. This is definitely progress but we are a little bummed because our boat can easily sail 125+ nm per day. At least the trade winds wont be right in our faces but we have to get there first!
Other than the wind, so far everything has gone smoothly and we have enjoyed the company of hundreds of dolphins and 20 or so sea turtles. Some little suicide squid jumped up onto our deck last night and Adam just put them on our lures as (used to be) alive bait. I am always amazed by the stars when we get away from land but over the last few nights we have seen a number of meteors which has been a real treat!
We are currently checking in with the Pacific Seafarers Net (www.pacseanet.com) and continue to put our position reports in YOTREPS. You can go to www.shiptrak.org to see a video of our progress. Unfortunately some of the reports are under our ship station call sign: WDG8553 (all up until now) and others are under Adam's ham call sign: KD9AFE (because that is how the Pacific Seafarers Net logs them). I tried sweet talking them into combining the two but no can do.
That is it for now and I hope this message makes it over the radio waves to you all!
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| While at Zihuatanejo, MX. Our boat is the one by Adam's head! |
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| Anchored in Zihuatanejo (no more!) |
Posted for Rachel and Adam by Lori Hughes
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
The Leap
My New Year's resolutions are shot. I guess that is pretty typical but I had hoped that since I was on "vacation" I would finally have both the time and the will to make them happen. Alas, that was not so, as you can see for yourself by the recent frequency, or lack there of, of my blog posts. I have received a few emails concerned for our safety and hoping that Moments was not resting on the bottom of the ocean. Not to worry, Moments is still afloat and looking better than ever. Adam and I are a little worse for wear because although we are on "vacation" we have been putting in long days checking projects off the list.
When discussing this trip with some of you I may have mentioned our original plan: to cross the Pacific to the Marquesas Islands. About the time we got to Mexico it became clear that that plan would cause us to rush, pretty much all year. There are two main problems with rushing. First, on a sailboat rushing is dangerous. You cannot rush the weather and you only want to make a crossing when the weather looks great not when you hope it will be fine because you really have to get somewhere. Second, there are many reasons that we left on this adventure but rushing was not one of them! We grew to love Mexico, so we took it slow. Our Spanish is better, we made many quality friendships and we were able to stop at some out of the way places rather than make big leaps down the coast. This was a better plan for us so we moseyed down the coast very undecided about the future, content with the present, and always ready to answer "south" when asked where we were headed. However, by the time we left Manzanillo it was becoming clear that we needed to make some tough decisions. Were we going to keep heading south down the Central American coast and cross through the Canal into the Caribbean or did we want to make a right turn somewhere and head out far enough so we could get back to the Pacific coast of the US?
Right turn it is. Although neither of us has been to Central America and the draw was strong, this was another plan that would result in rushing. To be out of the Caribbean and Gulf by June, when the hurricane season starts, was just counting on too many "ifs" to go our way. Not to mention, it is currently lighting season in Panama where there are a crazy number of strikes each year (check out this: http://geology.com/articles/lightning-map.shtml and this: http://wwlln.net/new/map/ for some cool things about lighting) Tall, warm, metal mast + flat, cool ocean = not a good idea. Some boats do have lighting protection systems so that all of their electronics are not fried when they are struck, but not Moments. We probably need to get a little better with the sextant before risking the loss of our navigation electronics!
For those of you not familiar with sailing and global weather patterns. The wind along the western cost of North America generally comes out of the north and then moves to the northeast as you get further from shore. The swell (waves, before they hit land and become waves) also comes out of the north as it is (primarily) the result of the friction of the wind on the water. Sailing up wind with pounding waves at your bow is not our idea of a fun or safe time.
So, with those options not looking so excellent and the Marquesas a far off (but probably unrealistic in a year) dream, we have decided to head for Hawaii! The Hawaiian Islands are the most remote islands on the planet and to get there we will be traveling more than 3000 miles. Think LA to NY in a sailboat. For the last month we have been working hard making all of the necessary preparations for this long passage, which will most likely take us about 1 month. Thank you to everyone for your support! More to come before we depart.
When discussing this trip with some of you I may have mentioned our original plan: to cross the Pacific to the Marquesas Islands. About the time we got to Mexico it became clear that that plan would cause us to rush, pretty much all year. There are two main problems with rushing. First, on a sailboat rushing is dangerous. You cannot rush the weather and you only want to make a crossing when the weather looks great not when you hope it will be fine because you really have to get somewhere. Second, there are many reasons that we left on this adventure but rushing was not one of them! We grew to love Mexico, so we took it slow. Our Spanish is better, we made many quality friendships and we were able to stop at some out of the way places rather than make big leaps down the coast. This was a better plan for us so we moseyed down the coast very undecided about the future, content with the present, and always ready to answer "south" when asked where we were headed. However, by the time we left Manzanillo it was becoming clear that we needed to make some tough decisions. Were we going to keep heading south down the Central American coast and cross through the Canal into the Caribbean or did we want to make a right turn somewhere and head out far enough so we could get back to the Pacific coast of the US?
Right turn it is. Although neither of us has been to Central America and the draw was strong, this was another plan that would result in rushing. To be out of the Caribbean and Gulf by June, when the hurricane season starts, was just counting on too many "ifs" to go our way. Not to mention, it is currently lighting season in Panama where there are a crazy number of strikes each year (check out this: http://geology.com/articles/lightning-map.shtml and this: http://wwlln.net/new/map/ for some cool things about lighting) Tall, warm, metal mast + flat, cool ocean = not a good idea. Some boats do have lighting protection systems so that all of their electronics are not fried when they are struck, but not Moments. We probably need to get a little better with the sextant before risking the loss of our navigation electronics!
For those of you not familiar with sailing and global weather patterns. The wind along the western cost of North America generally comes out of the north and then moves to the northeast as you get further from shore. The swell (waves, before they hit land and become waves) also comes out of the north as it is (primarily) the result of the friction of the wind on the water. Sailing up wind with pounding waves at your bow is not our idea of a fun or safe time.
So, with those options not looking so excellent and the Marquesas a far off (but probably unrealistic in a year) dream, we have decided to head for Hawaii! The Hawaiian Islands are the most remote islands on the planet and to get there we will be traveling more than 3000 miles. Think LA to NY in a sailboat. For the last month we have been working hard making all of the necessary preparations for this long passage, which will most likely take us about 1 month. Thank you to everyone for your support! More to come before we depart.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Sail Repair
We have reached the point in our trip that we need to do some major sail repair. Since we are enjoying Zihuatanejo so much and there are some minor resources here (fabric store, small fishing shops with some boating items and other cruisers) now seemed as good a time as any. So here we go with the second sewing blog post in a row. I apologize and promise more variety in the future, really.
Secondary only to the hull which keeps the water at bay, our sails are the most important item on the boat and they take a beating. Some might think that sailing in heavy winds is what causes sails to wear out. Although heavy winds can cause dramatic blow-outs as well as general wear and tear, in our experience it has been sailing in a lot of light wind that has taken a greater toll. On a sailboat the sails help to stabilize the boat especially in rolling seas. This only works correctly when the wind is strong enough to keep the sails full. Here in Mexico we have had a lot of "sailing" days where this is not the case and instead of smoothly sailing towards our destination we wind up bobbing about at the whim of the waves. The sails flop back and forth as we madly try to keep the boom on one side of the boat and figure out how to move faster than the current can pull us. As they flop, the sails have any number of things that they can bang on and they do this over and over and over again. Chafe and rust, enemies number one and two on the fiberglass sailing vessel. Sails can have problems with corrosion at all of their metal fastenings, but this we addressed before we left Seattle by replacing many of the old grommets. However, the vibration as the wind rushes over the sail, the degrading UV rays from the sun and all of this flopping around has brought about the need for a sail repair session.
As I mentioned in my last post we do not have a sewing machine. Instead we have four hands, two sail-maker's palms (even a lefty one for me!), some very large needles, various types of cloth, a roll of thick, waxed polyester thread and a couple of brewskies to keep us going. Most of our knowledge about sail repair comes from our friend Marty at Ballard Sails. Before we left Seattle she gave us a number of valuable lessons in sail repair that have served us well on our trip. We cannot thank her enough! On board we also have two books with information about sail repair. One is a general repair book about all of the systems on the boat and has about five pages on the most common types of repairs sailors have to make. Everything we have had to do has been in that book so they definitely picked the right topics, however, their is a serious paucity of information and most of the advice assumes that you have an industrial sewing machine handy. The other book we have is like a cook book that tells you have to slaughter the cow rather than just season the stew. No matter how pretty they might be I am not interested in making Chinese junk (a type of boat) sails from natural canvas, by hand. Also, there is no way that the index in that book was written by anyone who ever had to repair sails. So, like many of our boat projects, when it comes to sail repair we often feel like we are making it up as we go.
We wanted every sail on the boat examined and ready to sail with. This includes the spare sails. We carry one asymmetrical spinnaker, two (very old) main sails, a trisail, a 130% genoa, a 100% jib and a storm jib. Here is some more information if you are not familiar with the names of these sails:
Spinnaker - These are the colorful sails that you often see on the fronts of sailboats. Ours is kind of rainbow colored: red, orange, yellow and purple stripes.
Main - Just as the name implies, this is the primary sail on the boat that goes up the mast and along the boom
Genoa - A large sail that runs from the front of the boat back towards the mast. This is really just a large jib.
Jib - The typical kind of foresail on a boat, running from the bow back towards the mast.
Storm jib/trisail - These are our storm sails. They are much smaller than our normal sails, and we can put them up in heavy winds to help us more easily control the boat.
If you are keeping count that makes seven sails. Right now we are three down, four to go! However, it is definitely the genoa and main that need the most work. We use those two sails and the spinnaker most often, especially since most of our trip so far has been traveling down wind. Today my hands feel like a pincushion. I think every finger has been stuck at least once. I spent most of the last four days sitting under our harbor awning in my bathing suit pushing the needle back and forth using a sailmaker's palm and a pair of pliers. I don't think I have to say how much I would appreciate a sewing machine right now. However, it does feel like quite an accomplishment when I look at the finished product. Our genoa now has a new, functional, leach line and a repaired, leather-wrapped clew, two things that will improve our ability to sail well and safely. How I acquired the leather is a story for another day. Adam keeps telling me that if the whole doctor thing doesn't work out I can always fall back on sail-making but I don't think my fingers would like that very much.
Sorry no pictures right now because of our low reserve of data. However, if you are interested in seeing Zihuatanejo in real life we would love some visitors! We will probably be here for at least the next two weeks. This week Zihuatanejo is having a wonderful International Guitar Festival and we can hear the music from the boat! Check it out here: www.zihuafest.info
Secondary only to the hull which keeps the water at bay, our sails are the most important item on the boat and they take a beating. Some might think that sailing in heavy winds is what causes sails to wear out. Although heavy winds can cause dramatic blow-outs as well as general wear and tear, in our experience it has been sailing in a lot of light wind that has taken a greater toll. On a sailboat the sails help to stabilize the boat especially in rolling seas. This only works correctly when the wind is strong enough to keep the sails full. Here in Mexico we have had a lot of "sailing" days where this is not the case and instead of smoothly sailing towards our destination we wind up bobbing about at the whim of the waves. The sails flop back and forth as we madly try to keep the boom on one side of the boat and figure out how to move faster than the current can pull us. As they flop, the sails have any number of things that they can bang on and they do this over and over and over again. Chafe and rust, enemies number one and two on the fiberglass sailing vessel. Sails can have problems with corrosion at all of their metal fastenings, but this we addressed before we left Seattle by replacing many of the old grommets. However, the vibration as the wind rushes over the sail, the degrading UV rays from the sun and all of this flopping around has brought about the need for a sail repair session.
As I mentioned in my last post we do not have a sewing machine. Instead we have four hands, two sail-maker's palms (even a lefty one for me!), some very large needles, various types of cloth, a roll of thick, waxed polyester thread and a couple of brewskies to keep us going. Most of our knowledge about sail repair comes from our friend Marty at Ballard Sails. Before we left Seattle she gave us a number of valuable lessons in sail repair that have served us well on our trip. We cannot thank her enough! On board we also have two books with information about sail repair. One is a general repair book about all of the systems on the boat and has about five pages on the most common types of repairs sailors have to make. Everything we have had to do has been in that book so they definitely picked the right topics, however, their is a serious paucity of information and most of the advice assumes that you have an industrial sewing machine handy. The other book we have is like a cook book that tells you have to slaughter the cow rather than just season the stew. No matter how pretty they might be I am not interested in making Chinese junk (a type of boat) sails from natural canvas, by hand. Also, there is no way that the index in that book was written by anyone who ever had to repair sails. So, like many of our boat projects, when it comes to sail repair we often feel like we are making it up as we go.
We wanted every sail on the boat examined and ready to sail with. This includes the spare sails. We carry one asymmetrical spinnaker, two (very old) main sails, a trisail, a 130% genoa, a 100% jib and a storm jib. Here is some more information if you are not familiar with the names of these sails:
Spinnaker - These are the colorful sails that you often see on the fronts of sailboats. Ours is kind of rainbow colored: red, orange, yellow and purple stripes.
Main - Just as the name implies, this is the primary sail on the boat that goes up the mast and along the boom
Genoa - A large sail that runs from the front of the boat back towards the mast. This is really just a large jib.
Jib - The typical kind of foresail on a boat, running from the bow back towards the mast.
Storm jib/trisail - These are our storm sails. They are much smaller than our normal sails, and we can put them up in heavy winds to help us more easily control the boat.
If you are keeping count that makes seven sails. Right now we are three down, four to go! However, it is definitely the genoa and main that need the most work. We use those two sails and the spinnaker most often, especially since most of our trip so far has been traveling down wind. Today my hands feel like a pincushion. I think every finger has been stuck at least once. I spent most of the last four days sitting under our harbor awning in my bathing suit pushing the needle back and forth using a sailmaker's palm and a pair of pliers. I don't think I have to say how much I would appreciate a sewing machine right now. However, it does feel like quite an accomplishment when I look at the finished product. Our genoa now has a new, functional, leach line and a repaired, leather-wrapped clew, two things that will improve our ability to sail well and safely. How I acquired the leather is a story for another day. Adam keeps telling me that if the whole doctor thing doesn't work out I can always fall back on sail-making but I don't think my fingers would like that very much.
Sorry no pictures right now because of our low reserve of data. However, if you are interested in seeing Zihuatanejo in real life we would love some visitors! We will probably be here for at least the next two weeks. This week Zihuatanejo is having a wonderful International Guitar Festival and we can hear the music from the boat! Check it out here: www.zihuafest.info
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
It's Getting Hot In Here
We are definitely in the tropics now! Since leaving California on what must have been the coldest, rainiest day in the history of San Diego summers, the weather has steadily gotten warmer. I still have the odd feeling that Christmas and my birthday were a hoax because we spent our time lounging in our bathing suits and zipping around the bay fishing for 20+ lb sport fish from our dinghy. However then I look at the calendar and realize that I am indeed one year older and our trip is almost half way completed!
We are currently anchored in Zihuatanejo (zee-wa-ta-NAY-ho) and I think it is shaping up to be our favorite spot so far. Not only are we in a beautiful protected bay but this is a town that has definitely maintained its local culture despite an increase in tourism. Here, there are no mega resorts, those are reserved for Ixtapa down the road. Instead there are many local guesthouses and some boutique hotels that seem to be frequented primarily by vacationing Mexicans. There is a local market where you can buy everything from a whole cow to a bottle of soy sauce and a morning seafood market right on the beach where we land our dinghy. Prices are not cheap but finally reasonable and on Sunday night we joined what must have been the whole town for their weekly gathering at the basketball court. That night the entertainment was Zumba and other forms of exercise to get the townspeople moving. This was probably appropriate as I believe Mexico has now passed the US as the fattest nation in the world! I am certain it is also the most picturesque basketball court I have ever seen with a view of the sun setting over the bay and mountains as a backdrop for the dancers.
Back to the weather...Although we passed the Tropic of Taurus (formerly the Tropic of Cancer) on our way down the Baja, the nights have still been pleasantly cool and we often need our fleece jackets when we are night sailing. Around San Blas we broke out the "harbor awning" a large tarp that we spread over the boom and tie out to the sides of the boat to keep the UV rays off the deck. It is amazing how much this little bit of shade cools down the cabin. We do not have air conditioning but have been more than comfortable most the time. However, here in Zihuatanejo, it is hot. Hatches open, awning out, and I am still practically dripping sweat into our food when I try to cook anything inside the galley. So, yesterday I got crafty.
A large sewing machine was not in the budget for this trip and frankly I don't know where we would have put one. Luckily, until now we have been fortunate enough to find other sailors with Sailrite machines when we needed to do sail repairs. We do however have a hobby machine, a gift from my Dad and Jane, that has been very useful for some small projects. Yesterday I was determined to increase the ventilation on Moments. Failure was not an option.
I could write a whole blog post about the wonder that is a Mexican fabric store but this time I did not even need to visit one. Adam had a ripped camping hammock (thanks to Kraemer, I believe) that he has kept from college due to some premonition that the thin green fabric would at some time become useful. Yesterday I made half of it into a beautiful new wind-scoop for our middle hatch and we are currently experiencing gale force winds in the cabin. Well, it may not actually be that effective, but Adam put it through the test with a handheld anemometer (wind speed gauge) and he would like everyone to know that, "the wind-scoop transfers the free stream wind velocity with 100% efficiency, thus defying the Betz Limit of power transfer." For those of us without a degree in engineering, this means that we catch most of the wind coming towards the scoop and redirect it into the cabin. We are pretty happy with the outcome and our cabin is once again a place of comfort and moderate temperatures.
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| Some of the hundreds of dolphins we saw on our way into Ixtapa |
Back to the weather...Although we passed the Tropic of Taurus (formerly the Tropic of Cancer) on our way down the Baja, the nights have still been pleasantly cool and we often need our fleece jackets when we are night sailing. Around San Blas we broke out the "harbor awning" a large tarp that we spread over the boom and tie out to the sides of the boat to keep the UV rays off the deck. It is amazing how much this little bit of shade cools down the cabin. We do not have air conditioning but have been more than comfortable most the time. However, here in Zihuatanejo, it is hot. Hatches open, awning out, and I am still practically dripping sweat into our food when I try to cook anything inside the galley. So, yesterday I got crafty.
A large sewing machine was not in the budget for this trip and frankly I don't know where we would have put one. Luckily, until now we have been fortunate enough to find other sailors with Sailrite machines when we needed to do sail repairs. We do however have a hobby machine, a gift from my Dad and Jane, that has been very useful for some small projects. Yesterday I was determined to increase the ventilation on Moments. Failure was not an option.
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| Our new wind scoop in action. For the front corners I made some homemade grommets by sewing a washer between two layers of fabric and stitching around it like a button hole |
Monday, February 10, 2014
Aground!
Yes! You heard us right. Moments has run aground in Barra de Navidad, Jalisco, Mexico. Now you're probably thinking, shipwreck, two dead, the dreaded end to the blog. However, read on...
So, it's not that bad. We've seen worse (today running into town). Yes, we just had our bottom painted. But the truth is, our first grounding of Moments was quite anticlimactic. We're ok, the boat's ok, and we've learned...the boats seen worse. One of the wonderful items we found aboard Moments was the previous owners log book, which splendidly details the travels of Moments former crew. You see, the boat was originally in Texas, and spent a considerable amount of time cruising the Gulf Coast (and later the Pacific Northwest) which is known for shallow waters. In these travels, Moments was frequently aground on the sandy shoals of the area, probably groundings similar to our recent experience, but I'm sure, as with any boat being used, some worse.
We knew the entrance from Melaque to La Laguna at Barra de Navidad would be a tricky one. We had heard only to enter at the highest tide, as the dredged entrance only ranges from 1-2 fathoms (1 fathom = 6 feet, so 6 to 12 feet). Enter the sometimes annoying truth about tides...the high tides in the area were at ~6:30am and ~9:30pm, both (admittedly) during our usual high time of slumber and of course in the dark. Well, darkness adds a whole another element to entering unknown shallow territories, so we decided we we bite the bullet, wake up before the dawn, and be at the entrance just at sun up. We'd be entering just past the highest tide, but hey, close enough, right?!
Well, in true cruising schedule form, we hit the snooze button a few times, slowly (and awkwardly, thanks v-berth) rose from bed, scarfed a lovely oatmeal (aka provisioning-needed gruel) breakfast and, oh crap...we gotta go! Sun's up. So, we decided to go for the record.
See, we have a little competition going, as it sound like Moments previous owners did as well. How fast can we get the anchor up and get moving? I think I recall times of eight minutes coming up in the old log, but we haven't finished reading all of it yet, so maybe there is a new record coming. Well, I'm not sure when the clock starts (exit companionway?) or stops (hook to roller?) so let's just say it took us 20 minutes to raise anchor (I think it was probably faster than that, but we actually haven't timed it yet - Rachel will read this later and may be encouraged by her readers to start timing anchor's a-weigh). Side note - previous owners did not have an electric windlass as the boat now has, so...anyone have ideas on how to handicap that? Minutes per anchor scope length? I don't know...
Okay, so we got the hook up a little late, but we saw a beautiful sunrise over the entrance to the lagoon we were aiming for...things were looking up. Of course, we had studied a chart carefully to plan our entrance (quick look and "we should be all right..."). As usual, a couple breakwaters, some unmarked rocks to avoid, swell, shoaling, NBD (no big d...). So we got past that first part - we were in. Smooth sailing from here. Town/palapa (beach front restaurant aka more expensive tacos given the view)/panga (the coolest super-planing barebones fishing boat ever) parking land to the left ritzy high class marina fertilized grass land to the right, lagoon dead ahead. The wise men told us, stick to the right, near the shellfish/fish pens to avoid the sand/mud bar, yeah, aim right for the island, hang a left, and boom...ancla (anchor in Spanish - remember, it's masculine! So use the "el") land. So, we followed the wise man's advice - stick close to the pens...stick close to the pens.
Depthsounder (little meter that tells us water depth) say: 8 feet...7 feet...6 feet...5 feet (mass confusion because Moments keel is 5'6" under the water...more calibration required)...4 feet...3 feet...
Knotmeter (little meter that tells us boat speed) say (should have made a table or graph...): 4 knots...4 knots...4 knots...3 knots (mass confusion, why slowing down?)...0 knots
Engine tachometer (little meter that tells us engine revolutions per minute) /transmission say: 1500 rpm/forward...1500 rpm/forward... 1500 rpm/forward...(oh crap, we're not moving forward anymore, what do we do)... 2000rpm/forward (nope, didn't work, more stuck)...1000rpm(idle-ish, thinking...)/forward...1000rpm/neutral (still thinking/sinking into mud)...1000rpm/reverse...1500rpm/reverse...2000rpm/reverse...full throttle/reverse...etc...
So, if you followed all that. We were heading into the lagoon, clearly went the wrong way and motored ourselves into a sand/mud bar until we stopped dead, but luckily, after some guesswork and likely not-by-the-book maneuvering, we able to escape our first grounded via propeller power. Phew. Why phew? Well, later today we saw the top of our friend's boat's keel as they waited the 12 hours aground for the tide to come back up and lift them of the sandy shoal. During those 12 hours, we were drinking beers and talking about it. Hopefully we're just as lucky next time.
In case we do run aground again, anyone have some tips and tricks for us on what we should/could do? I'm gonna have to read up a bit more on this one, because the charts are getting worse and worse as we head south and there are less and less people around, so we'll have to be pretty independent.
We're glad we made it to Barra, as we heard it's a cool town. Went exploring today and looks like we could spend a while here, but after a couple days we'll keep heading south. We love Mexico, but it's time to go!
So, it's not that bad. We've seen worse (today running into town). Yes, we just had our bottom painted. But the truth is, our first grounding of Moments was quite anticlimactic. We're ok, the boat's ok, and we've learned...the boats seen worse. One of the wonderful items we found aboard Moments was the previous owners log book, which splendidly details the travels of Moments former crew. You see, the boat was originally in Texas, and spent a considerable amount of time cruising the Gulf Coast (and later the Pacific Northwest) which is known for shallow waters. In these travels, Moments was frequently aground on the sandy shoals of the area, probably groundings similar to our recent experience, but I'm sure, as with any boat being used, some worse.
We knew the entrance from Melaque to La Laguna at Barra de Navidad would be a tricky one. We had heard only to enter at the highest tide, as the dredged entrance only ranges from 1-2 fathoms (1 fathom = 6 feet, so 6 to 12 feet). Enter the sometimes annoying truth about tides...the high tides in the area were at ~6:30am and ~9:30pm, both (admittedly) during our usual high time of slumber and of course in the dark. Well, darkness adds a whole another element to entering unknown shallow territories, so we decided we we bite the bullet, wake up before the dawn, and be at the entrance just at sun up. We'd be entering just past the highest tide, but hey, close enough, right?!
Well, in true cruising schedule form, we hit the snooze button a few times, slowly (and awkwardly, thanks v-berth) rose from bed, scarfed a lovely oatmeal (aka provisioning-needed gruel) breakfast and, oh crap...we gotta go! Sun's up. So, we decided to go for the record.
See, we have a little competition going, as it sound like Moments previous owners did as well. How fast can we get the anchor up and get moving? I think I recall times of eight minutes coming up in the old log, but we haven't finished reading all of it yet, so maybe there is a new record coming. Well, I'm not sure when the clock starts (exit companionway?) or stops (hook to roller?) so let's just say it took us 20 minutes to raise anchor (I think it was probably faster than that, but we actually haven't timed it yet - Rachel will read this later and may be encouraged by her readers to start timing anchor's a-weigh). Side note - previous owners did not have an electric windlass as the boat now has, so...anyone have ideas on how to handicap that? Minutes per anchor scope length? I don't know...
Okay, so we got the hook up a little late, but we saw a beautiful sunrise over the entrance to the lagoon we were aiming for...things were looking up. Of course, we had studied a chart carefully to plan our entrance (quick look and "we should be all right..."). As usual, a couple breakwaters, some unmarked rocks to avoid, swell, shoaling, NBD (no big d...). So we got past that first part - we were in. Smooth sailing from here. Town/palapa (beach front restaurant aka more expensive tacos given the view)/panga (the coolest super-planing barebones fishing boat ever) parking land to the left ritzy high class marina fertilized grass land to the right, lagoon dead ahead. The wise men told us, stick to the right, near the shellfish/fish pens to avoid the sand/mud bar, yeah, aim right for the island, hang a left, and boom...ancla (anchor in Spanish - remember, it's masculine! So use the "el") land. So, we followed the wise man's advice - stick close to the pens...stick close to the pens.
Depthsounder (little meter that tells us water depth) say: 8 feet...7 feet...6 feet...5 feet (mass confusion because Moments keel is 5'6" under the water...more calibration required)...4 feet...3 feet...
Knotmeter (little meter that tells us boat speed) say (should have made a table or graph...): 4 knots...4 knots...4 knots...3 knots (mass confusion, why slowing down?)...0 knots
Engine tachometer (little meter that tells us engine revolutions per minute) /transmission say: 1500 rpm/forward...1500 rpm/forward... 1500 rpm/forward...(oh crap, we're not moving forward anymore, what do we do)... 2000rpm/forward (nope, didn't work, more stuck)...1000rpm(idle-ish, thinking...)/forward...1000rpm/neutral (still thinking/sinking into mud)...1000rpm/reverse...1500rpm/reverse...2000rpm/reverse...full throttle/reverse...etc...
So, if you followed all that. We were heading into the lagoon, clearly went the wrong way and motored ourselves into a sand/mud bar until we stopped dead, but luckily, after some guesswork and likely not-by-the-book maneuvering, we able to escape our first grounded via propeller power. Phew. Why phew? Well, later today we saw the top of our friend's boat's keel as they waited the 12 hours aground for the tide to come back up and lift them of the sandy shoal. During those 12 hours, we were drinking beers and talking about it. Hopefully we're just as lucky next time.
 |
| The propeller that got us out - thanks Max-Prop. Here, testing home remedy antifoulings that cost less than PropSpeed. Baby diaper ointment (Zinc Oxide), Lanacote (lanoline sheep's wool goop), and bare polished bronze. Stay tuned for results...I should really write a post about the haul out in general. |
We're glad we made it to Barra, as we heard it's a cool town. Went exploring today and looks like we could spend a while here, but after a couple days we'll keep heading south. We love Mexico, but it's time to go!
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Mangrove Morning
Up with the sun to ready for the mission of the day - a trip into the mangrove jungle by dinghy here in Bahia Tenacatita. After a few yawns, the daily coffee (tea for Rachel), and a quick bit of Mexico's finest supermercado breakfast cereal during the (relatively hilarious) VHF (very high frequency radio) local cruiser's net featuring rare hosts - a Mexican cruising couple - we loaded the dink (dinghy slang) and buzzed off.
The mangrove jungle tour is one of the highlighted features of this anchorage on the inside of Tenacatita Bay. How do we find these places?! Well, some people are familiar with the Lonely Planet series of guidebooks for travelers. There is a similar guidebook series for sailboat cruisers called Charlie's Charts, which we've been using all the way since Seattle. It feeds us tidbits of local highlights in addition to hints on entering the various bays along the coastline. Though sometimes out of date - actually frequently here in Mexico - it is a good addition to the hear-say we get from other cruisers along the way. We were not sure what to expect here in Tenacatita, as there has been rumors of closed anchorages and beaches laden with armed guards protecting failed resort developments. Well, we managed to anchor, and have not been approached by any brandishing forces, so it's all good so far!
While we have these hints and advice, there is usually a good bit of hunting to find exact locations and outcomes. As we buzzed off in our tender for some point on shore, we casted our trusty fishing rod into the rocky shoreline in hopes of a lucky catch. We haven't been so lucky lately, after a good stretch coming down the Baja Peninsula catching fish. Sigh...another slow morning as we approached. Bagging the fish pole for a while, we beached the dink on a tiny, calm beach with only the sight of a young Mexican couple in a Panga flirting among their new shellfish collection and an older cruising gringo clearly performing the daily ritual of escorting his two Portuguese Water Dogs to shore to take care of their business. We had a nice chat about our "plans" and his experience crossing through the Panama Canal and sailing into the Caribbean. As usual, this more than friendly cruiser directed us to our jungle tour destination, a ways down the beach.
Hidden behind a rocky patch of shore, the beach gave shallow way into an estuarial stream at first lined with fisherman tossing hand made nets, then panga (small fishing boat) parking for the local fisherman and tour guides, and finally, a very peaceful mangrove waterway at times barely wide enough for our dinghy then suddenly opening up to larger lagoons. Steering slowly at first and then accelerating after gaining a bit more confidence, we launched into the mangrove jungle with high aspirations of wildlife sightings and maybe a couple fish for lunch.
Herons, egrets, blood red mangrove crabs, and healthy schools of bait fish surrounded us as we worked our way further in. We had woken early in attempt to glimpse the rising wildlife and beat any crowd (relative term down here), which paid off it seemed. Adam steering and Rachel handling the fishing rod, we trolled a small spoon behind our craft just for the heck of it. Without much hope for any luck, we laid the pole in the bottom of the dinghy, and not five minutes later, we both jumped in fright as the pole crashed backward into Adam and the outboard engine. Rachel grabbed the pole and exclaimed, "Fish On!", and we threw the engine into neutral to fight the beast. A beast it was not, compared to some of our salmon, tuna, and dorado battles, but Rachel hauled in our first snapper of the trip, a welcome surprise as it would make a delicious treat for the day's lunch. Not ten minutes later, we had hooked into our second snapper, even bigger this time, and our lunch was secure. Not a bad start to the day!
The mangrove jungle seemed to wind on forever, but curious to see what lied beyond (we had heard of a small fishing village, some palapa restaurants, and a guarded entrance to the failed beach resort a ways back) we kept motoring against the falling tide and increasingly shallow waterway. It wasn't long until we came upon another dinghy like ours, surprisingly piloted by a young cruising couple from, you guessed it, Seattle! Lots of folks from Seattle and the Pacific Northwest down here, but a bit more rare finding those folks closer to Rachel and my age. We had a nice chat about plans and went our separate ways, but actually running into each other with chuckles several more times in the mangrove maze, until finally our boat reached the end of the road where the stream turned to beach and the fenced, exclusive resort. Without a ticket, we reversed and after a bit more unlucky trolling of the fishing lure, Rachel spotted a small (five foot long) crocodile, making the wildlife portion of the trip complete. It was the first we'd seen in the wild down here, and likely ever for me - though many alligators in Florida on family trips.
Having learned the way, we buzzed out of the mangroves back to Bahia Tenacatita, our two snapper in tow, gunning to get them on the grill before they spoiled. Actually, they ended up in the frying pan in a delicious fish taco concoction by sailing vessel Moments premier chef, the lovely Ms. Rachel Harper. Beer, tacos, and some smooth music by Santana on the jukebox (Moments newest upgrade) made for an excellent afternoon on the boat in the sun. Lounging and planning (delaying) our escape to Barra Navidad, our next destination further south. We're gradually picking the pace back up after a great month in Banderas Bay. However, the clock is ticking on our travels and we're both getting excited to get into Central America!
The mangrove jungle tour is one of the highlighted features of this anchorage on the inside of Tenacatita Bay. How do we find these places?! Well, some people are familiar with the Lonely Planet series of guidebooks for travelers. There is a similar guidebook series for sailboat cruisers called Charlie's Charts, which we've been using all the way since Seattle. It feeds us tidbits of local highlights in addition to hints on entering the various bays along the coastline. Though sometimes out of date - actually frequently here in Mexico - it is a good addition to the hear-say we get from other cruisers along the way. We were not sure what to expect here in Tenacatita, as there has been rumors of closed anchorages and beaches laden with armed guards protecting failed resort developments. Well, we managed to anchor, and have not been approached by any brandishing forces, so it's all good so far!
While we have these hints and advice, there is usually a good bit of hunting to find exact locations and outcomes. As we buzzed off in our tender for some point on shore, we casted our trusty fishing rod into the rocky shoreline in hopes of a lucky catch. We haven't been so lucky lately, after a good stretch coming down the Baja Peninsula catching fish. Sigh...another slow morning as we approached. Bagging the fish pole for a while, we beached the dink on a tiny, calm beach with only the sight of a young Mexican couple in a Panga flirting among their new shellfish collection and an older cruising gringo clearly performing the daily ritual of escorting his two Portuguese Water Dogs to shore to take care of their business. We had a nice chat about our "plans" and his experience crossing through the Panama Canal and sailing into the Caribbean. As usual, this more than friendly cruiser directed us to our jungle tour destination, a ways down the beach.
Hidden behind a rocky patch of shore, the beach gave shallow way into an estuarial stream at first lined with fisherman tossing hand made nets, then panga (small fishing boat) parking for the local fisherman and tour guides, and finally, a very peaceful mangrove waterway at times barely wide enough for our dinghy then suddenly opening up to larger lagoons. Steering slowly at first and then accelerating after gaining a bit more confidence, we launched into the mangrove jungle with high aspirations of wildlife sightings and maybe a couple fish for lunch.
Herons, egrets, blood red mangrove crabs, and healthy schools of bait fish surrounded us as we worked our way further in. We had woken early in attempt to glimpse the rising wildlife and beat any crowd (relative term down here), which paid off it seemed. Adam steering and Rachel handling the fishing rod, we trolled a small spoon behind our craft just for the heck of it. Without much hope for any luck, we laid the pole in the bottom of the dinghy, and not five minutes later, we both jumped in fright as the pole crashed backward into Adam and the outboard engine. Rachel grabbed the pole and exclaimed, "Fish On!", and we threw the engine into neutral to fight the beast. A beast it was not, compared to some of our salmon, tuna, and dorado battles, but Rachel hauled in our first snapper of the trip, a welcome surprise as it would make a delicious treat for the day's lunch. Not ten minutes later, we had hooked into our second snapper, even bigger this time, and our lunch was secure. Not a bad start to the day!
 |
| Yummy! |
Having learned the way, we buzzed out of the mangroves back to Bahia Tenacatita, our two snapper in tow, gunning to get them on the grill before they spoiled. Actually, they ended up in the frying pan in a delicious fish taco concoction by sailing vessel Moments premier chef, the lovely Ms. Rachel Harper. Beer, tacos, and some smooth music by Santana on the jukebox (Moments newest upgrade) made for an excellent afternoon on the boat in the sun. Lounging and planning (delaying) our escape to Barra Navidad, our next destination further south. We're gradually picking the pace back up after a great month in Banderas Bay. However, the clock is ticking on our travels and we're both getting excited to get into Central America!
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