The Calm After the Storm

After the legendary birthday party for Cavu Dave, things were quiet in the anchorage. It was time to relax, detox, and chill. But it didn’t take long before our little fleet got the itch to sail again. It was time to find a new anchorage. Our next destination was the east side of Isla Carmen.

Off to New Adventures

Pati and I had recently circled the island, but as the Sea of Cortez offers almost unlimited anchoring options we hadn’t stopped at nearly all the spots we possibly could. When a weather window promising some sailing opened, we all set off one by one. Cavu and Alegria took off first, followed closely by Milagros. Crack and Crystal on Small World took it easy and stayed behind. Elana and Travis on Island Fox left us for a few days to meet friends further south but would rejoin us later.

The Race Begins

Our mission was to close the gap on Cavu and Alegria, who were far ahead. Once other sailboats are around and heading in the same direction, it’s a race. Always! It doesn’t matter if you know the people on the other boat or not and it doesn’t matter how far ahead or behind they are. It’s a race. No matter what.

Bye Bye, Alegria!

We started out pretty sporty with full sails up and after a couple of hours we managed to catch up to Alegria while the winds subsided and were very light. Why were we faster than them? No idea. We just were. An annoyed Alegria Mike radioed us with that very question, to which Pati couldn’t resist adding salt to the wound: “We have a Kelly Peterson 44, and skills, maybe.” she replied. He he he.

Meeting at Las Salinas

When the wind completely disappeared, we all turned on our engines and spent the night in two separate anchorages. We anchored with Cavu, and Alegria with Small World. Since a bit of north wind was expected, we met the next morning in “Las Salinas,” an anchorage well-protected to the north, and a spot Milagros hadn’t visited yet. Readers might remember: Last year, we were stuck for a few days in a nasty north wind in the bay right next to Las Salinas with Swan Song Pete and Momo Bernie. Once our fleet had arrived at the new spot, we spent the days at anchor hanging out, walking on the long sandy beach, and snorkeling near a shipwreck.

Wreck Diving

We had been told a few times how great the snorkeling was at the wreck. Now we had to see it for ourselves. We tied our dinghy to a very Mexican marking buoy: a white jerry can. The snorkeling turned out to be as great as everyone said: The water was teeming with countless fish of all sizes and kinds around and inside the wreck. We dove through huge schools of fish so dense that you could feel the temperature drop when the gap in the school closed above you, blocking out the sunlight. It was fascinating to see how the different schools were layered. Smaller fish on top, slightly bigger ones below, and the largest ones at the bottom, only visible when the others parted. A really cool experience.

Mike’s Sea of Cortez Barbershop

Later, it was haircut time for the whole group again. What could possibly be better than a good friend who’s discovered a passion for barbering? “Mike’s Sea of Cortez Barbershop” set up a tent on the beach, and we all got spruced up. Even a kid from another boat got a haircut; an undercut, to be precise. When her mom came flying to the beach in her dinghy, we expected a scolding. Instead, Mike had to cut her hair too.

Fishing Luck and Sushi

The fishing this season had been great for me. One evening, I cruised along the shore with a couple of beers in the dinghy, trailing a lure behind the boat. Just as I was daydreaming and thought I wouldn’t catch anything, I got bites and quickly reeled in two great snappers. They were turned into delicious sushi we shared with all our friends aboard Milagros.

Setting Off for Cholla Corner

With fresh haircuts looking good, bellies full, and a light southerly wind forecast, we left Las Salinas after a few peaceful days and nights. Mike and Katie had spotted a spot on the charts marked as “Cholla Corner,” not officially marked an anchorage but looking like a hidden gem. Our new destination was set. And just as we set off, my fishing season turned even better.

Tight Lines!

We had barely left Las Salinas when I caught a huge Mahi-Mahi. Mahi-Mahi (also called Dolphinfish) are some of the tastiest fish in the seven seas and are plentiful in the Sea of Cortez during summer. After filleting, we had 3.5 kg of mahi-mahi meat in the freezer. Yesssssss. It’s wild how much work it is to catch a fish on a sailboat. Especially the “cleaning the aftermath”-part. The giant had spread its scales, bloodstains, and other remnants all over our aft deck. We hope the pictures do his fight justice. It took the two of us to hold him down.

Paradise at Cholla Corner

Our new destination “Cholla Corner” turned out to be a little paradise. Small rocky and sandy beaches where the other boats could let their dogs run (we were the only boat without a dog), and perfect sandy bottoms for our anchors to hold securely. Life was good here. So off to the beach we went.

Floating Season Begins

As summer approached, temperatures were steadily rising. The water temperature was now just right. Floating season had officially begun. Floating doesn’t require much: a beach canopy, floating gear like paddleboards, swim rings, mats, or chairs, a hat on your head to protect you from the sun, and a beer in your hand (or both hands). The hours flew by as we stayed cool and hydrated. Finally, Kim on SV Salt and Randy and Jody on SV Free Luff joined our group. We were now a fleet of seven boats, a happy mix of monohulls, a catamaran, and a trimaran.

Suddenly, Drama!

Did I mention our anchors were holding well in the sandy bottom of Cholla Corner? One evening, just everyone had returned to their boats from the beach, a strong westerly wind came up, bringing waves into the anchorage. Nothing too serious, but Pati and I were just securing our kayak on deck when we heard a foghorn. We were shocked to see one of the boats drifting sideways toward another. The boats’ anchor had dragged, and it was adrift. Mike on Alegria had sounded the horn to alert us all to the impending danger.

Collective Response

Island Fox Travis reacted first, jumping into his dinghy to help. The rest of us stood by on our boats, deck lights and engines on, ready to assist or move out of the way if needed. Mike and Katie decided to re-anchor, which was challenging as their anchor wouldn’t find proper holding anymore either. But after several attempts, they succeeded. A brief scare early in the early evening right after sunset, with a few beers too many, but all ended well.

All’s Well that ends well

We reacted quickly and effectively as a team. No one held any grudges. We’re all literally in the same boat, and things like that can happen to anyone. That’s life on a boat for you—one moment, you’re sitting carefree on a sandy beach, and the next, things take a sudden turn. Starlink deserves credit too; apart from Mikes’ idea with the fog horn our WhatsApp group chat allowed us to quickly alert each other and be ready in record time.

The Last Stop

Soon, it was time for another change of scenery. Our happy little family would soon split up as everyone had different plans for the summer. Small World were headed north to Puerto Peñasco, Free Luff south to Loreto, Alegria to La Paz at the southern tip of Baja California, Cavu to Bahia Banderas on mainland Mexico, Salt and we were headed back to Guaymas and San Carlos respectively, while Island Fox wanted to summer in the Sea of Cortez.

Back to San Juanico

So, we had to agree on one last stop. After some grocery shopping in Loreto and a night at the trusty good old Isla Coronados, where did we end up? Well, guess. San Juanico, for the third time this season. We really hadn’t traveled far this year, but we had been busy nevertheless. San Juanico is awesome and some of our friends hadn’t been yet this season. We had the best time after the armada invaded the anchorage. Activities ranged from spearfishing and snorkeling, floating with beers, beach walks, watercolor painting, and yet another great birthday party for Cavu Marla, late into the night. This is the way!

Farewells

Unfortunately, one of the few constants in sailing life is saying goodbye to good people you’ve had a great time with. Everyone does their own thing while trying to spend as much time together as possible. For me, it was especially bittersweet saying goodbye to our friends after a wonderful time. A few weeks earlier, I had decided to “swallow the anchor” as sailors say. My adventures aboard Milagros would come to an end. After four years of living at breakneck speed and one adventure after another, I was ready to return to a “normal” life. I needed more stability, and I had felt that all year. I had been going back and forth for months, but now my decision was made. With a heavy heart, I shared the news as we all sat together on the beach one evening.

Return to Normal Life

After four years of living at breakneck speed and one adventure after another, I was ready to return to a “normal” life. I needed more stability in my life, and I had felt that all year. I had been going back and forth for months, but now my decision was made. With a heavy heart, I shared the news as we all sat together on the beach one evening. But that’s how it goes. Goodbye Free Luff, goodbye Small World, goodbye Alegria! See you soon! One by one, we had to wave goodbye to our great crew. More about my decision in a few weeks in the end-of-season post.

Waving our Goodbyes

Then it was time to bid farewell to part of the group. Goodbye Free Luff, goodbye Small World, goodbye Alegria! Thanks for all the good times and see you soon! One by one, they took off and disappeared on the horizon. Suddenly, our fleet of seven was down to four: Milagros, Cavu, Island Fox, and Salt. Next stop? Punta Pulpito.

Thanks for checking out our blog post! Please consider supporting our work with a small contribution to our beer fund or by becoming a monthly supporter by clicking on the button below. Your help keeps our content coming. Cheers!

Der Beitrag Island Hopping And Good Times And Farewells erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

We need to get out of here!

We just wanted to head out at this point, we had been stuck in Guaymas for far too long. And we knew we had to get out into the open quickly because cabin fever was taking hold, as you could probably tell from past blog posts. We needed new horizons, new neighborhoods, anchorages, anchor beers, and dolphins at the bow. Baja California was calling.

The crossing to San Juanico

But first, there was still a crossing to do. We wanted to set sail to San Juanico. Many consider this area one of the highlights in the nearly 1000-kilometer-long Gulf of California. We didn’t need any lead time because we had already made the nearly 16-hour passage a few times. As always, we chose a weather window that promised sailing with good but not too much wind, and we set off late in the afternoon. Goodbye, Guaymas, see you not so soon, thankfully.

Motor, darkness, and cold

The crossing to Baja California started promisingly. A brisk wind from the north blew Milagros sportily forward. We sailed into the night, where the wind subsided, and we had to start the engine. And it got cold. Very cold. And dark. Very dark, because it was a new moon. It’s crazy how much of a difference moonlight makes on the open sea. With a full moon, you sail almost in daylight, with a new moon, it’s pitch dark.

Light Torpedoes

And then something happened that we had heard a lot about, but unfortunately had not yet experienced. It was Pati’s night watch when she suddenly woke me up because she noticed unusual light trails in the water. When the familiar blowing sounds also appeared, it was clear: luminous dolphins were cruising along with us in the nighttime bioluminescence.

Unfortunately, we can only show you what it looks like with stolen pictures. It’s incredibly difficult to catch the beauty of bioluminescence. But we can tell you one thing: that was a lifetime experience. You can also watch moving images here.

Arrival in the early morning

At dawn, the wind returned, and we were able to sail the rest of the way back under sail. We arrived safely in San Juanico in the early morning. “You’ve been there before,” the discerning reader will say? Yes, that’s true, that was back in 2022 together with Paul and Hazel on SV Susimi (who have made it all the way to New Zealand by now). Our previous San Juanico experience was a very wobbly south wind experience. Now it was winter and north wind season – perfect for a stay in San Juanico, an anchorage that is well protected against north winds.

Life in the wilderness has us back

Finally, we were back where it was beautiful – with Milagros at anchor far from civilization. Just us, Milly, the desert, other boats, the wind, and nature. We spent over a week enjoying ourselves. Canoe trips, hanging out with other sailors, and exploring our surroundings. We found some really beautiful spots. Unfortunately, during her first swim of the year, the jellyfish also found Pati. Ouch!

Exploring San Juanico

San Juanico offers numerous great desert paths for walking and exploration. One of them leads to a small ranch with animals and a vegetable garden. Horseback rides and boat trips are also offered. Or were offered, to be more precise. Because the worker at the ranch, who immediately invited us for a cup of coffee when we arrived, said that the new owners had abolished the excursions for tourists. This directly harmed his wallet because he could earn a good supplement to his $1000 salary per month with the tips from tourists. We chatted with him about this and that; he was a really nice guy. Unfortunately, I can’t remember his name. Sorry about that.

A fireworks display for Pati’s birthday

We also celebrated Pati’s birthday and promptly invited a few cool kids from our neighborhood onto Milagros. They were a mix of boat people sitting at anchor and RV people who had set up camp on the beach. Happy Birthday, Pati! Elon Musk also congratulated warmly – he lit up fireworks. In the form of a SpaceX rocket that one evening rose high into the sky. We were only witnesses to the spectacle by chance when Pati suddenly stared wide-eyed at the horizon and could only say, “What the hell is that?” The rocket rose like a beacon high into the sky and left a glowing, ionized atmosphere. Very impressive!

New friends from the big Canton

Our neighboring boat, a large catamaran, flew a large flag in the famous black-red-gold colors. Of course we had to take a look! We rarely meet people from the biggest state in Switzerland (which is what we call Germany back home). The catamaran was called “Thosyma” – from which we skillfully deduced that at least two people on board had to be named Thomas and Sylvia. And behold: we were right. Thomas and Sylvia from Saxony in Eastern Germany were amazed when we greeted them directly by their first names, although we had never seen them before. We got along well right away and spent the rest of the afternoon on their great, large catamaran balcony. They wanted to go in the same direction (south) as us, so we would surely meet again. Of course we did not take any pictures. But before another meetup with Thosymas we wanted to make a hop north to collect another anchorage check.

Continuing to Punta Pulpito

After we had canceled the trip to Panama again, our new goal for the sailing season was to tick off as many new to us anchorages as we could. And just north of San Juanico was such an anchorage. Punta Pulpito was its name, a few hours further up the coast. When we weighed anchor early in the morning, we were already prepared for Burrito noise, when suddenly a very fine south wind set in and gently pushed us in the right direction. Sails up! What followed was some of the best sailing we had so far. We sailed slowly and comfortably towards Punta Pulpito.

We climb the peaks

When we arrived there, a spectacular backdrop appeared. Punta Pulpito is a huge rock that protrudes into the sea and steeply drops there. The large, rocky point is what covers the anchorage at its bottom. We had to take a closer look at that, and the next day we made our way up the steep path to the summit. We were definitely not the first people to tackle this hiking trail. You could clearly see a small path that we just had to follow. When we arrived at the top, the impressive surroundings of the Sea of Cortez revealed themselves in all their glory.

Sea of Cortez Obsidian

Another thing that makes Punta Pulpito a destination is the vein of obsidian that winds its way down the rocky outcrop. Scattered all over the ground, you can find the volcanic glass practically everywhere. It forms when lava cools rapidly under certain conditions. Of course, we had to take a closer look and found large chunks of obsidian right on the beach. A few smaller pieces are now travelling along with us aboard Milagros.

We take our time but are always on the move

Despite taking plenty of time to relax in each spot, we were always on the move. We seized the next northerly wind to head further south, towards Isla Coronados, a volcanic island we had visited several times before. It was about half a day’s sail south, and our sail-to-motor ratio at the start of the new season was excellent. We spent another fantastic day sailing, eager for more adventures.

Back at Isla Coronados

Arriving at Isla Coronados, we sought shelter at its southern end, avoiding a predicted harsh north wind. Additionally, a solar eclipse was forecasted, and where better to witness it than at Isla Coronados? Such events don’t happen every day.

Nortes are loud and cold

When the north wind arrived, it brought discomfort—cold, noise, and a reminder of winter in the Sea of Cortez. We spent the days working on the computer and doing laundry. After some time on the move, the dirty clothes had piled up. Since we staunchly refused to return to civilization just yet, we took matters into our own hands and washed them ourselves. A bucket, water from the freshwater tank, clotheslines for drying, and it was done.

David vs. Pelican

The most entertaining thing that happened during our stay at Isla Coronados. It involves me and a cheeky pelican, that decided to take a rest on our solar panels. We have absolutely no problem with animals hanging out aboard Milagros (apart from cockroaches, rats and such), but what we don’t like is cleaning huge Pelican poops off our solar panels. So the guy had to move. Easier said than done. What followed was a short argument in which I tried to shoo the pelican off, while he acted like he was going to bite me. In the end, I opted for a paddle of our kayak, which drew him off, just come back again right away. Pushing him off with the paddle tow times helped, and he gave up.

Continuing to the north end of Isla Carmen

When the Norte (that’s what the north winds are called in Mexican) subsided again, and south winds were forecasted, we wanted to tick off another point for a new anchorage and cruised (even with a visit from dolphins) leisurely under motor to a corner called “Puerto de la Lancha.” Well protected against the south, it lies at the north end of Isla Carmen. And it was well protected against waves from the south. But not so much against the wind because the forecasted southerly was rather channeled into the anchorage. It was quite the blow, and Milagros was rocked back and forth on the anchor chain.

Puerto de la Lancha

Nevertheless, we stayed and waited out the south wind. We took walks over the hills in the area and along the beach, where we found all sorts of exciting remains of marine creatures. Among other things, a complete dolphin skull. Of course, there was also plenty of plastic waste, so we also cleaned up the shore a bit. Even after 3 years, it is simply impressive every time anew how we are destroying the world’s oceans. And the Sea of Cortez is known to be a rather pristine area.

An unexpected reunion

But as it is, at some point, the fridge was empty, and we had to move on to Loreto to provision. So we chugged a few hours to the west and anchored off the town. We placed the dinghy on the beach and headed for the supermarket. Remember when we helped Ray deliver his boat to La Paz a long time ago (and ran into a fishing net at night)? Ray now lives in Loreto, and since we were in the area anyway, we wanted to get in touch with him. Guess who we practically ran into in the supermarket? Ray. It’s crazy how the world plays sometimes. He was there with his truck and kindly helped us bring all the food stuff back to the dinghy. Did we take pictures? Of course not.

A Sad Sight

Unfortunately, on the beach of Loreto, lie the sad remains of a sailboat well known to us. A friend of ours from the boatyard in Guaymas got into serious trouble during a sailing trip towards the town, which ultimately led to his pretty sailboat “Colymbus” being stranded on the beach of Loreto. The locals, of course, wasted no time and promptly helped themselves to anything that was and wasn’t nailed down in the nights that followed. Among other things, our old batteries, which we offered him when we installed our new lithium batteries. SV Colymbus is now a reminder of everything that can go wrong when offshore sailing. Nature shows no mercy.

Disappointment in Balandra

After all the groceries were stowed away in Milagros’ belly, we wanted to move on to the next place. Puerto Balandra was its name, a great horseshoe-shaped anchorage and well protected against all kinds of weather from almost all directions. On the way, we saw on the chart plotter that the Thosymas were also heading there. And when we arrived, disillusionment set in. Unfortunately, there was no room left for us. When Thomas and Sylvia set off back towards Isla Coronados, we decided to follow suit after a short stop.

We make the best of it as always

We spent a few more days at the southern end of the island and met with Thomas and Sylvia from SV Thosyma for sundowners on the beach. Walks to the picturesque northern bay were also due of course. The paradise beach frequented during the day by excursion boats from Loreto, which take up its entirety during the day. Good thing we were residents on the island, so we could use the evening hours and had the whole island to ourselves. Just beautiful!

When it suddenly gets dark

We also had an appointment: a solar eclipse took place at noon on April 8th. In the morning, we worked, then we made “solar eclipse margaritas” and sat in the cockpit. It was quite something when it suddenly when the moon darkened our surroundings at noon, and the intensity of the sun noticeably decreased. We could not really see anything of the actual eclipse, as we didn’t have special glasses or anything. All in all, the experience in our latitudes was quite unspectacular. Further south, especially in Mazatlán, it must have been much more impressive.

The freshest sushi ever

So without wind and waves, I had to go fishing again and was lucky – a beautiful Spanish mackerel (Sierra mackerel) took my bait. A great fish for sushi and sashimi. Of course, we didn’t miss out on that – homemade sushi from self-caught fish. What more could you possibly want in life? With this great fish in tow and sushi in our stomachs, we could set off again.

Continuing to the insider tip

And one Thursday, we packed up our things again and set off further south. Because a visit to a special place was due. A kind of insider tip that was recommended to us by Marla and Dave on SV Cavu. Whether we’ll tell you where it is? We still have to think about that.

Things are back on track for us

You see, things are back on track for us. As soon as we’re out of Guaymas, on the water, and on the move, it became increasingly clear to us that this is where we belong with Milagros. Living on an offshore going sailboat and then just sitting around in the same place is wrong. We had to get out, away from the noise, crowds, and civilization. Just the horizon and a thousand possibilities and adventures ahead of us. Because that’s the way it should be.

Thanks for checking out our blog post! Please consider supporting our work with a small contribution to our beer fund or by becoming a monthly supporter by clicking on the button below. Your help keeps our content coming. Cheers!

Click here to support our work on the blog!

Der Beitrag Continuing from where we left off erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

All the amazing pictures in this blog post courtesy of Katie Currid and Jan Egil Kristiansen.
Thank you very much!

Without social media, I would not have noticed that hundreds of pilot whales are being encircled and killed again just these days on the annual pilot whale hunts called “Grindadráp” on the Faroe Islands. I only found out about it thanks to Sea Shepherd. Somehow, while browsing Facebook, I ended up with the famous marine conservation organization. Founded in 1977 by Captain Paul Watson, Sea Shepherd has made it its mission to take direct action to protect the world’s oceans and their inhabitants, and in particular to combat poaching, illegal fishing and animal cruelty.

What Is The Grindadráp?

Sea Shepherd of course, taking action against any kind of whaling, also rejects the traditional catch of pilot whales on the beautiful Faroe Islands. This tiny, autonomously managed archipelago is part of the Kingdom of Denmark and is located in the North Atlantic. Fishing and thus whaling is part of their history and heritage and is culturally closely linked to the islands and their inhabitants. Due to the barren landscape and the harsh climate, meat and fish make up a large part of the Faroese diet. The pilot whale hunt is a centuries-old tradition. The first pilot whale hunt was documented in the year 1584. Not only pilot whales fall victim to the yearly hunting season, but also one or two other species of dolphins. Looking chaotic at first glance, the Grindadráp is subject to strict rules.

The Sighting Of The Whales

There is no fixed time window for the Grindadráp (grind = pilot whale school, dráp = killing / slaughter) on the Faroe Islands. The hunt usually takes place in the summer months between June and October. If the sighting of a school of pilot whales is reported, as many ships as possible set out to the reported location. Then an attempt is made to shoo the pilot whales with the ships into a bay where the animals are locked up. If whales can escape, they must not be pursued. The Grindadráp is not allowed to take place in any cove, but only in one of 23 selected bays (Hvalvàgir) along the Faroese coast.

Grindadráp – A Bloody Affair

Then the part of the hunt begins, the bloody images of which go around the world anew every year. The pilot whales are driven close to the beach, where the animals’ spinal cord and carotid artery are severed with special spinal lances (Mønustingari). The animals are dead pretty much immediately. Great value is placed on the animals so they suffer as little as possible. This is even stipulated by law. A lot of thought and research goes into the killing process, as can be seen in this document. The observation that the whalers run around in a bloodlust to kill as many whales as possible is therefore likely to be wrong. None of the animals should suffer unnecessarily. There is no time to waste. The logical consequence of the killing method is that a bay turns blood red during the Grindadrap. Nevertheless, the pictures are intense and impressive.

What Happens To The Whale Meat?

Important points for me come from the whalers themselves. They say that the problem is not the colour of the water, but that mankind is simply no longer used to the sight of slaughter. This due to the industrial processing of meat and fish. “I prefer to eat whale meat from an animal that has lived in the wild all its life than chicken raised in a cage in Denmark.” said one whaler. If you believe the majority of the reports I have read, every single usable part of the whale is consumed. The meat obtained from the Grindadráp is not sold, but distributed, including in supermarkets. The distribution is subject to a hierarchical system. This hierarchy ranges from the person who sighted the whales to hospitals or people suffering from poverty. In contrast to other whaling nations such as Japan or Norway, the meat is not exported. It remains on the Faroe Islands. The remnants of the whales are returned back into the ocean, where they are of use to other marine life.

Is The Grindadráp A Necessity?

The question now is – am I suddenly in favor of whaling? No, absolutely not. All whaling is out of date. I don’t care which kind of whaling we’re talking about, man no longer needs whale meat in his diet. Nevertheless, after my research, I think that the pilot whale hunt in the Faroe Islands contains many important points that are completely forgotten in this day and age. That is the respect for the animal and sustainability. The people who take part in the Faeroese pilot whale hunt move much closer to nature than the end consumer in a supermarket somewhere in Europe, who treats himself to a finely prepared and packaged salmon fillet, shipped from the other side of the planet. Blood has also flowed for the fish and meat in the supermarket. It just happens behind closed doors. And many of these animals, unlike the Faeroese pilot whales, have never lived in freedom. Some of them have never even seen daylight.

What Now?

Pati and I indulge in seafood from the local fishermen every now and then. The meat we eat still comes off the shelf in the supermarket. Nevertheless – a question that I keep asking myself is: Can you still justify the consumption of meat and fish these days? I cannot give a definitive answer to that. This is beyond the scope of this blog post and ultimately we all have to make that decision for ourselves. But when I catch, kill, gut and prepare a fish myself, I think: That’s how it has to be. This way it is sustainable and correct.

What do you think on this topic? We look forward to hearing your opinion. Shitstorm in 3, 2, 1 …

Der Beitrag Grindadráp – A Closer Look erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

We almost continued working on the boat that Sunday morning. But only almost. We got wind of a little excursion with Salvador Cabrales, the boss of the Cabrales Boatyard, to “Schuk Toak” (holy mountain) near Puerto Peñasco. So we dropped our boatwork plans and treated ourselves to the very first tourist program since our arrival in Mexico.

Schuk Toak

We gathered with a few other sailors and Salvador at the entrance gate on our side of the boatyard and grouped up into two rides. The trip led out of Puerto Peñasco to the “El Pinacate and Gran Desierto de Altar Biosphere Reserve”. The reserve is UNESCO world heritage. It lies in the Sonoran desert and extends over 714,566 hectares with a 354,871 hectare buffer zone. There are several impressive sights of natural origin to see.

Volcanology in the Sonora Desert

When driving through the desert, the first thing that caught the eye was the “Sierra Pinacate”. Shaped by volcanic and geological activity during the formation of the Gulf of California, mountain ranges up to 1,100 meters high formed. They could already be seen from afar, when the last buildings of Puerto Peñasco were behind us and the Sonoran desert layed before us. The massive displacement of land masses during the formation of Baja California resulted in volcanic activity that resulted in spectacular landscapes. In addition to the elevations, the reserve is characterized by other sights of geological origin. There are cooled lava flows, crater landscapes and huge sand dunes to admire.

Wandering through streams of lava

We stopped at the Schuk Toak Visitor Center. Built on a cooled lava flow, the center houses a small exhibition about the history and geology of the region. Then you can take a short walk over the cooled lava streams to get an idea of ​​the situation for yourself. Very impressive. Above all, a short film at the end of the tour through the Schuk Toak visitor center showed once again that a desert is by no means a dead environment, but bursts with life.

An unexpected visitor

The afternoon was rounded off by a visit to one of Salvador’s insider tips. Tortas San Luis has all kinds of delicious take away sandwiches, which we ate back at the boatyard with beer and homemade margaritas from SV Catspaw. We just sat there, everybody enjoyed a day off and chatted about all sorts of things. In the middle of our peaceful get-together, we were suddenly supplemented by an unexpected guest.

Milagros, the animal shelter

Katie and Mike from SV Alegria had found a budgie near their boat. Nobody knew where the little guy of bluish-gray colour came from. He suddenly sat there, asleep on the floor. Apparently the animal seemed to be used to humans. It must have flown out a window somewhere. The case was clear, time for the Astillero Cabrales animal rescue team to take over. Pati and I took the budgie visitor to Milagros, where he was to stay until his owner or a new place was found.

We were bird owners now

The budgie was a welcome change and brought action aboard. When he wasn’t hanging out on our heads or shoulders and resting, he would walk back and forth across the coffee table and inspect everything that came before his beak. Since we didn’t want the budgie to fly around freely at night, I built him a small cage out of all sorts of scraps I found at the yard. Dulcé, the harbor cat, would certainly not have minded having a bite of our budgie. Since she liked to visit us at night, our new bird friend had to spend the night in the front head (toilet).

Oh nooooo!

Well, who would have thought that this joyful event would end in drama. The next morning we noticed that “Budgie” (we’d given him a name by now, and an unbelievably creative one, too) was falling asleep all the time. No sooner had he taken a few steps than he apparently needed to rest. Weird. But when he suddenly threw himself off my shoulder flapping his wings and landed on the floor, the whole story took a sad turn.

A Sudden Death

Our new roommate was dead within 20 minutes. Just like that. Gone. History. We have no idea what happened to the bird. We’re guessing (or hoping) that he was just an old guy and maybe all the fuss on the boat was a little too much for his tiny little heart. What a way to start the day. So we buried Budgie under a small tree near the boat. Farewell, little guy. It was fun while it lasted.

We move  forward

It is of course not easy to work on as if nothing had happened. Half the day was already over when we could focus on the hull of Milagros again. We want to put an end to our osmosis blisters. An oversized Dremel came to help, which we could borrow from another boat. The dried out fiberglass could be easily removed with the machine and so I worked along the hull from blister to blister.

Am i doing this right?

What quickly became noticeable was that I had apparently overdone it with drilling into the osmosis blisters. We now have a lot of tiny holes to fill. It was also the first time working on Milagros that I was somehow unsure whether I was doing my job properly. It was a strange feeling to grind indentations into the hull on Milagros’ bare fiberglass. Hopefully we can get rid of all the grinding marks.

More problems

Unfortunately, the week was also overshadowed by another negative incident. After an outboard motor was stolen from a boat recently, another boat very close to ours was actually broken into. In the dead of night the thief got access to the yard and snatched various tools from the vessel. Then he rode off on Patricia’s beautiful green bicycle. What a jerk! Nobody knows exactly how the whole thing went down. The fact that the night guard on our side mostly spent his working hours sleeping wasn’t much of a help either. Oh, and someone lit a cart filled with garbage on fire right next to the boatyard too. Fun times!

Think its over? Think again!

Hardly a few days later we see the news in the morning that an inhabited boat, again very close to Milagros, had been ambushed by a masked attacker early in the morning. The thief closed the hatches with zip ties and examined the boat. When the sleeping residents woke up and started making noise, he asked for money before he left. Another escalation level has been reached. We were inevitably made aware that we are no longer in the safe haven of Switzerland.

Sleepless Nights

Salvador Cabrales reacted immediately and massively increased the security precautions. We too entrench ourselves, and now use a stepladder that we pull up onto the ship at night. Still, I’ve had a few restless nights. My head was in alarm mode and I woke up a lot. Since Puerto Peñasco also comes up with all sorts of background noises during the night, my sleep quality is correspondingly poor and, above all, the morning time is characterized by tiredness. Sometimes that affects my mood badly. Poor Pati. Sorry for that …

Show must go on

Despite all the tiredness, boatwork was the order of the day. After a while, our hull began to look like a modern work of art. In an attempt not to loose track of the grinded osmosis blisters, I marked them all with a red pen. Smaller holes were marked in blue that didn’t need to be rebuilt with fiberglass. While we really did remove a lot of delaminated fiberglass sandblasting the hull, we believe we got lucky.

Step by step

With our 40-year-old boat, striving for perfection would be beyond any temporal and financial sense. After all, at some point we want to «splash», as boat owners say. We hope that in a few weeks we can assemble something too, instead of just taking stuff apart all the time. The work adds up, more and more is added. Let’s just hope we can keep this under control…

Despite the sad news, we hope you liked our blog post. You can support our work with a contribution by clicking the button below (you won’t even need an account!) or on Patreon. Thank you!

Click here to support the work on the blog!

Der Beitrag When Pleasure Ends In Drama erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

Prologue

What started as a crazy idea in 2018 is now becoming reality for Dave and me – almost a year late due to Corona: We are starting our biggest adventure so far, together with our sailboat Milagros and with SY Anila and crew.

Milagros (in English “miracle”) is a 44 feet (approx. 13m) long Kelly Peterson blue water yacht that we bought on the Pacific coast in Mexico near Tijuana in August 2019. Anila is my sister’s and her partner’s (our sailing instructor to be) sailboat.

The 10 most frequently asked questions

Below are the most frequently asked questions about our adventure over the past 12 months.

1. How long do you want to travel?

I count on my hand, which shows the number 3, the following restraints: Until we either have no fun, no money or no sailboat anymore. So, for an unlimited time.

2. What does a sailboat actually cost?

We paid $ 71,000. That’s not that much when you consider that we virtually have our own home which we can move to wherever we want.

3. What does such an undertaking cost?

We’ve read various books and blogs and derived from them that we are on the safe side with $ 1,000 per person per month. That means that we expect around $ 24,000 per year for both of us. It is said that around 10% of the ship’s value, i.e. around $ 7,000 – 10,000, has to be invested in maintenance. This is rounded up to an average of $ 1,000 per month. That leaves around $ 1,000 per month for everything else.

4. Will you also work en route?

First of all, we focus on working on our boat and learning to be good and responsible sailors. After that we will surely try to make some money. Because the calculation is pretty simple: If we both earn $ 1,000 per month, we can theoretically be on the road (on the water) forever. We already have a few ideas.

5. Which route do you have in mind?

Well, let’s see how far we can get. First, we’ll be renovating our ship in Mexico in the Gulf of California. Then we might sail south to about Ecuador, then across the Pacific to the South Seas. From there we could go via Indonesia, Japan, Madagascar to South Africa and then up the west coast of Africa. Then we could continue to see whether we are crossing the Atlantic or taking the boat up the Rhine to Basel. Or maybe we’ll just sail to New Zealand and settle there. There are so many options that we let everything come our way.

6. Are you experienced sailors?

We have to evade this question a little and appease. Because we have both taken a “freshwater sailing license” on Lake Thun and passed the theory exams for the offshore license, but apart from that we are not very experienced. Our joker is our “private sailing instructor”, who can teach us everything we need to learn on site.

7. Isn’t that dangerous?

Hmm, well, we are taking a certain risk, but we can be run over by a bus here too. To the follow-up question “But what if you get into a storm?” we mostly answer that contrary to the assumption that a sailor spends all the time at sea with no land in sight, it is actually the case that about 80% of the time you are anchored somewhere (hopefully in a beautiful bay). And that a sailor spends an average of one day a year in a storm. There are also special storm tactics that we of course have to learn first.

8. How can you even know whether you will like it?

We don’t really know, because we have never lived permanently on a sailboat for a long time, but we hope so! And if we don’t like the sailing life, we’ll be back home quickly or travel the world in a different way.

9. Why do you decide to leave the life you have built behind?

Every now and then we ask ourselves this question, too. The answer is usually: “Because we can”.

10. I admire your courage, but I couldn’t do it.

While this is not a question, it is a common observation in this context. Since I often don’t know exactly what to answer, I like to quote Pippi Longstocking: “I’ve never tried that before, so I’m completely sure I can do it!” or something like “Yes, the need for security differs from person to person”.

It is how it is

In any case, we look forward to having all options open and having the luxury of simply letting things come to us.

Did we forget any questions? Ask us in the comments, we look forward to your input!

Did you like this blog post? You can become a monthly supporter on Patreon or you can buy us a couple of beers without having to register, if you click on the button below. Many thanks!

Raise a toast with us!

Der Beitrag 10 Questions about our Adventure erschien zuerst auf Milagros.