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.

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

As luck (more or less) would have it, we all arrived at the agreed meeting point around the same time. On our AIS (Automatic Identification System), we could see well in advance how we were all sailing towards our destination. In the flotilla approaching from the south were SV Cavu, SV Alegría, and SV Small World. We knew the first two boats well from our Cabrales boatyard days. Small World Craig had helped us launch Milagros back then. This time, his wife Krystle and their little dog Louise were also with him.

Reunion Joy

As soon as had we set our anchor we saw Alegría Mike paddling over on his paddleboard. The joy of reunion was great, and in no time, we updated each other with brief versions of the latest news. Much and yet not much had happened since we last saw each other almost two years ago. Later, we all met for sunset drinks on Alegría. And although a lot of time had passed, it felt like we had just seen each other recently.

Reason to Celebrate

Aside from the fact that we were all in the same area and wanted to meet on this occasion, there were also two reasons to celebrate. Dr. Cavu Dave and Island Fox Travis both had birthdays on the same day. And after the super fun boat crawl two years ago on Cavu Dave’s 40th birthday, nothing stood in the way of a repeat. But more on that later.

The Rehearsal

As more boats (SV Island Fox, SV Ayala, and SV Remedy, whom we all didn’t know (yet)) made their way to the party venue, we grabbed our shopping cart and marched together to the nearby mini market to stock up for the party.

In the evening, we invited the entire flotilla for sunset drinks on Milagros. This was the rehearsal for the upcoming party. And we found that 14 people fit in our cockpit. Good to know.

A New Game

The days leading up to the party were spent snorkelling, fishing, preparing, and chilling. The large, flat beach also invited us to linger. In the afternoons, tents were sometimes set up, blankets spread out, and coolers brought along. And we were introduced to a game unknown to us: Beersbee (beer frisbee). Two teams try to hit a sand-filled beer can placed on sticks in front of the opponents with a frisbee, all while holding a drink. If the can and frisbee fall to the ground on a hit, the opponent gets points. If the can and/or frisbee are caught – one-handed, of course – before they hit the ground, it reduces the points. At least that’s how we understood it. It’s a social and entertaining game, even if it wasn’t always clear how the points were counted. In any case, one team eventually reached 15 points and won.

Party Time

And then the party day – you literally cannot call it anything else – had arrived. Seven boats, seven signature drinks, seven snacks, 15 participants (or 1000kg / 2200lbs of people), and one hour per boat, starting at noon. Following the moustache theme, all willing male participants got “dressed up.” Moustache or not, it’s a matter of taste, but the unusual faces caused a lot of laughter. See for yourself:

Island Fox

We started the boat crawl on SV Island Fox with birthday boy number one, Travis, Elana, and little dog Tails. We were greeted with a rum-berry smoothie and homemade muffins. The nearly one tonne of extra weight on the 38-footer (11.5m) was noticeable as the stern sat low in the water. During the boat tour, my gaze lingered on the tool corner. Hanging on several magnetic strips along a wall about 2 meters long were all kinds of tools: pliers, wrenches, screwdrivers, saws, hammers – sorted by size and type. A dream! Suddenly, the alarm went off on Small World Craig’s wrist: He had set a one-hour timer on his watch – it was time to move on. Chop chop.

Small World

Next, we visited Crystal, Crack, and Chihuahua mix Louise on Small World, a 42-foot (12.5m) ketch, where hibiscus mezcalitas were served. It is always exciting to check out other boats, so I naturally took part in the small, guided tour. I was most fascinated by the spacious engine room with meticulous labelling. Every single cable had a label with a number, and devices had their operating instructions right next to them. I was very impressed!

Remedy

Afterward, we were guests on SV Remedy with Baron and Heather. The 42-foot Hans Christian ketch impressed below deck with its spaciousness and immaculate varnish. It also had a refrigerator with a regular door that opened forward. David and I were a bit envious, as our refrigerator opens from the top. So, if you want something at the bottom, you either must rummage or take everything out above it. Energy-wise, it’s good because not all the cold air “falls out” when you open it, but it’s not so convenient. We were served sausage-cheese crackers and Bloody Marias with an ingredient I never expected in a drink: fried bacon bits. Although I’m not a fan of the salty tomato juice drink, this bacon twist was something special. If I ever order a Bloody Maria again, it’ll be with bacon, bacon, and bacon.

Milagros

Next was Milagros’ turn. On the 44-foot sloop with a center cockpit, I particularly noticed the beautifully shiny freeboard and deck. It looked freshly painted. It was also festively decorated – with silver Christmas tinsel. I was especially impressed by the bright interior and the spacious engine room, though not as well labelled ;). The hosts, Patricia and David, without a dog but with Pokémon Wobuffet, served coffee and cake, and a Swiss cherry liquor. Opinions about the schnapps were divided. Those who wanted could alternatively have a Tequila Sunrise or try a mouthwash shot. The shot was an impulse buy at the mini market, which we initially laughed at: a light blue liquid in a PET bottle. Water with colouring, blueberry flavour, and 5% vodka. It wasn’t as bad as it looked and sounded.

Ayala

With the ringing of the Craig alarm, we moved to the next boat, the all-electric sloop Ayala with Charles, Nora, and crew Mehul aboard. We snacked on Nora’s homemade bean pirogues and drank Micheladas – beer with Clamato (according to Wikipedia, Clamato is a commercial drink made from reconstituted tomato juice concentrate and sugar, flavoured with spices, dried clam broth, and monosodium glutamate). You can think of it as beer with red-coloured broth. It’s a popular refreshment here. Not so much for David and me. We were deep in conversations about how we finance the sailing life when it was time to move again. The schedule was tight, and Craig ensured it was adhered to. Perhaps he has German or Swiss roots?

Alegría

The sun was setting as we gathered at Mike, Katie, and dog Rosco on Alegría, a 50-foot Gulfstar and thus the largest boat in the flotilla. The snack potatoes with homemade Mexican salsas were devoured as if we hadn’t eaten for days and not had snacks on every previous boat. There were also coconut-strawberry margaritas, not quite my taste but still tasty. Dave and I received a small tour of the latest upgrades Alegría had received since we last saw her.

Cavu

Last but not least, we moved to Cavu, the boat (a 37 Tartan) of birthday boy number two, Dave, and Marla with dog Gomez. They served pizza rolls with tomato sauce for dipping and birthday cake, with (finally) regular beer. The highlight came from the Alegría crew: black light lamps and neon markers. Once someone started, the patterns and drawings on arms, hands, legs, feet, and faces became increasingly wild. Much painting and drawing was going on. Even days later, we still found traces of these surprisingly persistent markers. Especially on finger- and toenails, the stuff seemed to be water-, salt-, and sandproof. We celebrated the two birthdays until well after midnight in the best company. With countless unforgettable impressions from the celebration, we headed home.

Check out the party vibes yourself:

A Kind Gesture

The days after the party were spent snorkelling, fishing, and chilling on the beach, once even with a campfire. We regretted it a bit afterward, as everything, really everything, smelled like acrid smoke for days. We also met a small family camping on the beach with their RV and interested in boat life. For them, our little flotilla was a stroke of luck because they could visit and see the advantages and disadvantages of each boat from 37 to 50 feet, aft cockpit and center cockpit to sloop and ketch. As a thank you, the family brought us a huge load of vegetables from the nearest town, which we shared among us all.

Star Wars

Gradually, Island Fox, Ayala, and Remedy left the flotilla, and the days turned quieter. David and I had originally planned to watch all six Star Wars movies from May 1 to 6 (the international Star Wars Day is on May 4 as one should know). We ended up only watching one movie (Episode V, for those interested), which we watched with Cavu and lasagna in our cockpit. At least we did that.

An Unusual Find

On a final shopping trip before we all planned to move on, we discovered something very unusual on the beach. An animal, quite a large one at that, lay half in the water. Upon closer inspection, we found it was a mountain lion. With its head under water, we were pretty sure it was dead. But not for long, as it hadn’t been there the day before. It had no visible injuries, and we could see its tracks in the sand. It must have walked along the beach, then turned to the water and died. We suspected it was poisoned. Very sad for such a beautiful animal.

Time to Go

Eventually, it was time for us to move on. Not that we had to leave – it was wonderful in our little spot, and the weather was perfect. However, we were eager to discover new anchorages, and the others felt the same way. So, we set off for the next destination and the next adventure. But more on that next time.

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PS: Picture credits for most of the pictures in this post go to Island Fox, Small World, Cavu, Ayala and Alegría.

Der Beitrag Sailors United: A Flotilla Adventure 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.

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

On the day of David’s departure, we dropped Milagros’ anchor back into the Guaymas (or Guymanese?) cesspool. From the beautiful, clear, pleasant, turquoise, swimmable water into the murky, stinky mess. From the tranquillity and the gently splashing water on our hull to the circus and the traffic noise. What a delight. But as I have explained in a previous blog post, it was a necessary evil. There was no better option within a reachable radius. However, there were tacos à la carte, access to project materials, and nice people. This time, however, I didn’t want to spend the time at the marina dock out of sheer convenience, but rather at anchor – preferably not in Guaymas.

Goodbye, David

The first mission in Guaymas was to take David to the bus. We chugged along with our fully packed dinghy to the marina. From a distance, we saw César, our trusted taxi driver, and punctual as always, already waiting. His little blue Chevrolet is unmistakable. After saying goodbye to David at the bus terminal, I went straight to the second mission: restocking supplies. Fully loaded, I returned to the marina. A few friendly workers helped me there to load everything into the dinghy.

There was something else

Back on Milagros, I wanted to put my feet up after storing all the purchases. But then I remembered that I had to lift the dinghy out of the water for the night. Although nothing had been stolen from the boat so far, and our 3.3 HP engine is not exactly the most attractive target, there is a significant social disparity here, and poverty means that even a small outboard motor can somehow be turned into money. Therefore, we adhere to two principles: “better safe than sorry” and “don’t be the easiest target”. It would be very annoying if something disappeared and the issue could have been prevented with 2 minutes of effort.

A simple crane design

With two people, stowing the dinghy is much easier, so I had to come up with a system to do it as simply as possible on my own without a possibe back injury. Using a halyard, the whisker pole, and a block and tackle, I built a kind of crane that allowed me to lift the dinghy with relatively little effort and then lift the outboard motor on board at a comfortable height. Voilà.

That’s too close

The next morning, before the first coffee, I received the next mission. After I had put the water on for the coffee and was waiting for it to boil, I looked out of the windows on both sides of the boat, as always, to see what was going on outside. And what I saw, I didn’t like at all. A 70-footer was getting pretty close to us (or we to it). When we had anchored the day before, the wind was coming from a different direction, and the distance was fine. Overnight, the wind had shifted, and now the situation looked different.

Wait and see

But I couldn’t immediately haul up the anchor because the other boat had positioned itself right over it. After every anchoring manoeuvre, we mark the estimated position of the anchor on the chart to check if our anchor is holding and everything else is okay. So, I let out more chain first so that I felt more comfortable. By then, the coffee was ready. I sat down with it in the cockpit and watched the situation. I was ready to start the engine if necessary. But I knew that fortunately, the wind would turn a little later and the situation would look different again. And I knew that I would immediately re-anchor. I asked Lucas if he could help me with its after his morning coffee. Together, we then parked Milagros a bit further away.

Something’s happening

In the following days, I felt like I didn’t have a quiet minute. Civilization had me again! In addition to working online in the morning, managing the boat, and running the household alone (and also doing the dishes – the worst!), I tinkered with various projects. Soon, Milagros was enriched with two new cockpit cushions, two triangular leaning cushions, and a new mattress cover. On Facebook, I stumbled across a small ad for custom-made cutting boards in a local group. Despite our bad luck with custom orders, I held a nice new board in my hands two days later.

The sailing demographic

And of course, there was a bit of socializing. Demographically, Guaymas is rather one-sided: mainly retired, white, male single-handed sailors from America and Canada are to be found here. Nevertheless, there are occasionally women or sailors my age. So, I spent pleasant hours with Annette on her ‘Ananda’ at the dock or met up with Skeet and Amanda, two fellow sailors my age. In the evenings (after sunset, haha), I sank into bed and slept soundly, unless the wind was howling through the bay at 30 knots (about 60 km/h).

On a Mission

When the weather forecast showed a calm window without wind, I prepared for another mission: I wanted to take Milagros out alone for a little excursion. I had chosen the Carricito anchorage, 3 hours away, as my destination. Since David and I always take turns with all manoeuvres, I knew exactly what I had to do. And since there was no wind, I had all the time in the world. The conditions were perfect: a boat and its manoeuvres that I mastered, an area I already knew, a bay we had already been to, with local language skills and acquaintances. Moreover, Gavin on ‘SV Petra’ was also going to come along later. What could go wrong, right?

Someone was generous

It took me about 1 hour to lift the anchor because the anchor chain was so dirty, and I had to spray it off inch by inch to avoid having this dirt in the anchor locker. Moreover, Lucas had been very generous with letting out the chain when anchoring. At a water depth of 4 meters, I would normally let out about 20 meters (5:1 the water depth is said). He was a bit more conservative and let out 50 meters, all of which I had to spray off.

Alone on the Move

It was a great feeling to start the engine, lift the anchor, and head out. Out of the noise, along the canal, past tankers being loaded with cement, past fishermen pulling in their nets, feeling the wind in my face, and hearing the sound of the water being displaced by the bow. The only thing that disturbed the idyll was the dirt that Guaymas had caused on our deck: slimy, black mud from the bottom and bird droppings. A night heron had decided that it liked our bow pulpit and wanted to spend the night there. Then it cheekily did its business on our deck. You won’t be surprised that this strained our hospitality quite a bit.

You can watch a little video of my trip here:

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Ein Beitrag geteilt von Patricia Büeler (@patriciabueeler)

Successful Mission

The outing flew by, and soon it was time to prepare the anchor. I had chosen an anchorage in the small bay, and the anchoring manoeuvre went smoothly: steer slowly to the desired point, turn into the wind, go forward, and when the boat has no forward motion, lower the anchor. Then slowly let out the required amount of chain, go back to the helm, engage reverse gear, and slowly give throttle until the anchor sits well and no change in position is visible on the deck bearing. Later in the afternoon, Gavin appeared on his boat, and we toasted to our successes.

A Short Break

We spent a few days there in the bay, Gavin on his side and I on mine. Now and then, we met for a coffee or a beer – very peaceful. I explored the area alone, swam a few laps around the boat, and enjoyed the tranquillity in the cockpit. Soon it was time to go back to Guaymas, as David’s return was imminent. Gavin and I lifted the anchor at the same time. Unfortunately, there was no wind, because a little race under sail would have been fun. I won anyway, because even under engine, Milagros is a machine. I anchored Milagros again in the cesspool of Guaymas, this time I had to take two attempts because the anchor did not hold the first time. And to avoid having to re-anchor, I placed us nicely far out. How far out I only realized when I rowed ashore later. Nevertheless, the mission was 100% successful, and I will surely have the chance to sail Milagros alone at some point.

Flea Market

The following day, I participated in a flea market for sailors in San Carlos. Rendt and Marea, two New Zealanders with their son Nico on a Swiss steel boat, kindly took me in their car. The flea market started at 8 a.m. I had a few good things to sell, but they were not in demand that day, and by 10 a.m., the flea market was already over. Afterward, we treated ourselves to a delicious Mexican breakfast and visited a historic coffee house in Guaymas.

A Fun Sailing Day

Unexpectedly, I was also invited to a sailing day. Lucas had installed a new autopilot on Matt’s boat, which now needed to be calibrated. When I boarded the boat at the marina, it was ready to cast off. There was just one small problem: Matt had found diesel in the oil but thought that it was now fixed. So I mentally prepared myself to jump overboard. In the worst case, diesel in the oil can cause the engine to run away, meaning the RPM gets out of control and the engine virtually destroys itself. Normally, this can be stopped by cutting off the air supply; otherwise, the engine explodes. Spoiler: Nothing happened. We spent a fun sailing afternoon on the small ketch. Back at the dock, we were even invited to Annette’s for lasagna. Since David was going to arrive in Guaymas early the next morning at 3 a.m., I left our dinghy at the marina for him, and Gavin drove me home.

David is back

In the middle of the night, the soft clattering of our bathing ladder woke me up. David had forgone the outboard motor and sneaked up with oars because he wanted to surprise me. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite work out. He was laden with goodies from Switzerland (chocolate and raclette cheese) and fine Asian sauces, and I was happy that he was back.

Preparations are underway

The next day, we started preparing for a crossing to the other side of the Sea of Cortez. Water, propane, and diesel needed to be refilled, as well as our supplies. And we had found a buyer for half of our lead that was still unnecessarily lying around in our bilge. Doug, a sailor we had met in Puerto Peñasco in 2021, needed some ballast for his boat. In exchange for the lead, he invited us to lunch and told us about his adventurous sailing trip from Peñasco to Guaymas. Along the way, he lost, among other things, a propeller blade and the ability to use his mainsail, so he had to be towed to San Carlos, unable to manoeuvre.

One last mission

But before we could leave Guaymas, there was one last mission to complete: sewing sail bags for Lucas. I was kindly allowed to use Corky’s Canvas’s sewing machine at the marina. Over two afternoons, the machine rattled, and voilà, two sail bags were born. Two Pati Bag originals that will be worth a lot someday

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Der Beitrag Pati Home Alone 2.0 erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

Julio – The Visa Agent’s Story

We find ourselves anchored in Bahia Catalina, Guaymas, a welcome return to civilisation after a fortnight in secluded anchorages. It’s Sunday, and our provisions are dwindling, necessitating a shopping trip. Our stay was not meant to be this extended. The urgency is palpable; we’re out of milk for our morning coffees, and even the powdered substitute is depleted. Bahia Catalina, perched on the outskirts of Guaymas, is barley accessible by car, a fact that deters most taxi drivers. Our usual go-to, César, is regrettably away, celebrating his father’s 76th birthday in Hermosillo, some 150km distant.

Resorting to WhatsApp, I liaise with a taxi firm. After some negotiation, they assure us of a pickup at noon. Yet, 12:20 rolls around with no sign of a taxi. Just then, a white car cruises past, executes a U-turn, and approaches us. The driver, a Mexican, rolls down his window to inquire about our destination. We’re headed to the centre, we inform him. Coincidentally, so is he, and he invites us to join him.

Conversing in fluent English, he reveals he hails from Monterrey, near the American border. His role as a visa agent brings him here, assisting a company in securing US visas for its Mexican employees. An unexpected extension of his stay led him to explore the local sights on TikTok, which is how he discovered Bahia Catalina and its stunning seaside stone arch.

Curious, we inquire about the complexity of obtaining a US work visa for Mexicans. He reassures us that it’s straightforward, barring any prior incidents. His expertise lies in arranging seasonal work visas for American agricultural enterprises. Business is thriving, with around 1,500 applications processed annually, a reflection of Americans’ reluctance to work on farms. His comprehensive service, priced at USD 650, covers accommodation, meals, and cross-border transport during the three-day visa procedure.

He then turns the conversation to us, asking about our line of work. We mention our involvement in social media management for small businesses. This piques his interest, and he wonders if we have a business card. Contact details are exchanged, pleasantries are shared, and he kindly drops us off at Walmart, marking the end of an unexpected yet enlightening encounter.

Alfonso – The Taxi Driver

We’ve just finished our shopping spree at Walmart, with milk for our morning coffee safely in tow. Now, the challenge is finding our way back to Bahia Catalina. But before that, we have a little detour to make. I stumbled upon an advert for Indian cuisine in a Facebook group and couldn’t resist ordering some Butter Chicken and Naan via WhatsApp. Picking it up is our next mission.

Our game plan involves summoning an Uber for this errand and then persuading the driver to take us all the way to the boat, even though Bahia Catalina lies beyond Uber’s usual operating area. Enter Alfonso, steering his Chevrolet Beat. We lay out our plan and ask him to quote us a price for the extended journey. He ponders for a moment, noting that the area’s remoteness makes it an unpopular destination for drivers. Eventually, he quotes us 150 pesos (USD 7.50).

As we drive, Alfonso inquires about our origins and our purpose here. We share that we’re from Switzerland, exploring on our boat, and turn the question back to him. He shares that he’s been taxiing for a few years, following a two-decade stint running his own video game store. But the business eventually took a downturn.

Alfonso confides that he harbours dreams of becoming a truck driver, armed with all the necessary permits, which he proudly indicates are stashed in a red folder between the seats. However, his lack of experience has been a stumbling block in securing employment. He’s even contemplating investing in his own truck, a 500,000 pesos (USD 25,000) investment, to kickstart his independent trucking venture.

As we pass a bus depot, Alfonso muses that while he could opt for bus driving, the earnings are modest (10,000 pesos / USD 500 per month) compared to what he can make as a taxi driver. Nearing Bahia Catalina, he reflects that it’s been two decades since his last visit. He hints at the area’s seclusion and potential dangers, given its isolation.

Upon arrival, Alfonso assists us with unloading our groceries and takes a moment to admire our small dinghy and the anchored boat. We express our gratitude, “mucho gusto,” pleased with the encounter, and hand him 200 pesos (USD 10) for his troubles. After all, it was quite a journey into the unknown.

Mario – The Author

I’m walking along the main road in Guaymas, with a blue duffle bag on my back, heading to the laundrette. I hear a “hola” behind me and ignore it. Then, a bit closer, I hear “hola, buenos dias” again. Not wanting to be rude, I respond with a “hola.” The young Mexican smiles at me and asks in good English if I’m an American tourist. I clarify that I’m from Europe, Switzerland. He expresses curiosity about what brings me so far from home, and I briefly mention my journey on the boat.

We continue side by side along the main road, which is also a construction site, dodging holes, piles of gravel, and barriers. He then offers to help with my backpack, but I politely decline. I ask him in return where he’s from and what he does. He’s a local, from Guaymas. He inquires if I’m familiar with “Creativo” in San Carlos, a creative studio that offers various courses like pottery and painting. He works there and suggests it’s a great place to meet people, mainly gringos (Americans). It’s easily accessible from Guaymas by bus. I dodge the suggestion; I’m not looking to take a course to meet new people. With the boat, I meet new people almost daily.

He asks if he can walk with me a bit longer and shares that he’s about to publish his first book, which he’s been working on for four years. Interested, I inquire about the book’s content. He shares his personal revelation he says, detailing his past struggles with drug addiction, single parenthood, depression, and suicidal thoughts. Seeking an escape, he ventured into the desert and experienced a transformative epiphany.

As we reach the laundrette, he expresses his gratitude for our exchange and heads back the way we came. He only wanted to withdraw money in the first place.

Francisco – The Versatile Helper

I’m anchored solo with Milagros in Guaymas, as David has set off for Hong Kong. Weary from a night disturbed by gusty winds, I still resolve to go ashore, craving some physical activity and needing to replenish our water reserves. I prepare to take two empty 20-litre bottles to shore, a task made manageable by the water refill station’s proximity, just 500 metres away. At the dock, I find a trolley I can borrow, easing the burden of my errand.

Midway to my destination, a car with its windows down pulls alongside me. The driver, calling me by name, offers assistance with the water bottles. It’s Francisco, a jack-of-all-trades day labourer familiar with all things nautical. We had been introduced by another sailor a few weeks back. Without hesitation, he’s out of his car, loading the bottles and trolley into his vehicle. He explains he’s just returned from San Carlos, where a promised job fell through. Now, he’s checking if there’s any work to be found here.

Together, we head to the water station and fill the bottles. Francisco insists on carrying the full bottles himself, a gesture of kindness I’m grateful for. We return to the marina, where he unloads the bottles and transfers them into the dinghy. I attempt to offer him a tip, but he refuses, stating it’s a favour among friends. He then hands me his number, suggesting I reach out if I ever need assistance again.

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Der Beitrag Journeys and Connections: A Week in Guaymas erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

It was that time of year again. I flew around the globe for work. I’ve been with my employer for over 10 years now and have travelled thousands of miles by air. I really enjoy business trips, even though in my current job they involve longer-than-average flights from Mexico to Asia. Since I once got a pilot’s license and I’m fascinated by anything that flies, I don’t mind the long flights at all. And I always look forward to seeing my workmates again.

A Rocky Start

This time, my travels took me back to Bangkok. Pati stayed alone on Milagros. Time in Thailand flew by, and soon I was back in Guaymas and aboard Milagros. Three months ago, we travelled to Mexico with the plan to stay in Guaymas for a maximum of three weeks. Yet here we were, still there. Three months had passed, and we still hadn’t set sail, and the boat was just sitting in a marina. This situation frustrated me massively upon my return, which didn’t exactly contribute to a good atmosphere on board.

Hard to Believe

Everything, absolutely everything, annoyed me. Life on a sailboat, I’m telling you. Sometimes we’re just exhausted and grumpy. We read and heard a lot beforehand. It’s a lot of work – it’s more work in every respect than we could have ever imagined. It’s fantastic – it’s breathtakingly beautiful and will leave a lasting impression on us. You have to experience it yourself to even begin to imagine this lifestyle. But enough of the meaningful talk. For where there is shade, there is also light. Apart from the friction, we’ve also experienced many great things again.

But the Journey Continues

Disclaimer, a load of tech-talk follows! Pati tackled many, many tasks on the boat while I was away. What was still missing was a regulator for our alternator. With our new lithium battery bank, it was in danger. Our new batteries can absorb many times more energy at once for charging than their predecessors. Actually, as much as they can. That makes them great, but also dangerous, because you practically have to protect the rest of the system from their energy cravings.

Safety First

Hungry lithium batteries in an unprotected system could overload individual components because they would want to draw too much power. And what happens with an overload and too much energy in an electrical system? Right – heat. And with too much heat? Exactly – sparks and fire. And what do we not want aboard Milagros? Correct – sparks and fire. So, we had to regulate the power supply for our new batteries.

Overload Protection

An alternator can be a victim of overload. Like in your car, it’s attached to the engine and converts the engine’s rotations into electricity. Depending on its size, an alternator can only deliver a limited amount of power. The lithium batteries on board Milagros couldn’t care less about this limit. They would simply suck the poor alternator dry, overload it, and burn it out.

Enter the Regulator

This is where the regulator comes into play. It is wired between the alternator and the batteries. As the name implies, it regulates the flow of electricity from the alternator to the batteries, allowing you to define exactly how much power the alternator should/must deliver. Fortunately, our two friends on SV Holoholo had exactly such a regulator lying around unused on board. And our electrical guru Lucas was still around, so we seized the opportunity to install it.

An Upgrade is Necessary

Lucas, as always, spent hours with us, patiently providing advice and assistance. In return, we fed him with everything the galley had to offer. And who would have thought? We needed a new, larger alternator. Our current alternator was too small for the new system. I’ll spare you more details; enough of another deep dive into boat technology.

Adding a Boat Touch

After the usual detours, a few days later we were proud owners of a new, over four times stronger, and affordable alternator. However, it needed some modifications to its wiring to convert it from “car mode” to “boat mode” – from an internal to an external regulator, to be precise. Easier said than done, as most Mexican workshops only know the “car mode”.

The Conversion Process

When we arrived at our trusted workshop with our new alternator, we felt that the mechanic had actually understood our instructions. We were even allowed to watch him make the adjustments. A young employee jumped in shock when unfamiliar faces suddenly appeared behind the counter. Unfortunately, in Mexico, that often means “attack,” and the alarm bells were ringing for him. Sorry for that! Shortly after, the boss got to work. Note the posters on the wall in the background. That’s what a real workshop should look like, right?

A Mexican-Style Conversion

Back on Milagros, what Lucas had secretly suspected (and what we had also suspected while watching) was confirmed. The adjustments were “mexicanized,” as we lovingly call it when it works but doesn’t have to be perfect or last long. In this case, the work was good enough for an old Mexican car, but not for a sailboat that can’t just pull over if it smokes and sparks in the engine room. So Lucas promptly took everything apart again and rebuilt it better. And behold – everything worked splendidly after installation.

A Genius at Work

We can’t thank the Polish kraken (Lucas) enough for his help. He is a living legend, who has even been honoured with T-shirts. He helps wherever he can on countless boats in Guaymas and San Carlos and is simply a genius. We don’t know what we would do without him. Unfortunately, because of his helpfulness, he neglects the work on his own boat, as he says.

Cheers to Lucas

We want to lend Lucas a helping hand, so all donations in the beer fund for this post will be reinvested directly into “Modelo Negro,” his Mexican beer of choice! So, get out your wallets and credit cards! Let’s make Lucas happy together! Click the link below the post (or this one) and help us replenish Lucas’s beer supply.

Ready, Set, Go

Now we were actually ready to set sail. Despite low morale on board, we wanted to take a shot and cover a one-and-a-half-day passage to Topolobampo as quickly as possible. You already know about our (non-existent) love for nighttime sailing. But one night should be doable. So, one morning, we set off bright and early. But it just wasn’t meant to be.

A bad start

As soon as we left our berth, Milagros did as she pleased. No matter how much I tried to steer, Milagros just did her own thing. So, we did a complete 360° pirouette in reverse in the marina basin, in very limited space with only one meter (3 ft) of water under the keel. All I could do was guide the boat through the turn in a controlled manner before we could exit the marina in the right direction. Luckily, no one saw that. The wind vane’s rudder was not fixed and thus completely distorted all my steering movements.

It Doesn’t Get Better

But that wasn’t all. We had barely left the supposedly safe marina basin when the stress continued. Not only had fishermen, with limitless foresight, laid a net across half the channel through which we had to exit. No, Pati had already positioned herself at the bow with a flashlight when we realized that we also had to navigate through a minefield of crab traps. Everywhere, floating PET bottles on ropes leading into the depths. First-class traps not only for crabs but also for boat propellers. Thanks for that, dear fishermen. So much for night sailing.

And Another Thing

Whoever thought that was it, is mistaken. Just as the passage was clear again and we wanted to put our little autopilot into operation on the open water, its plug spun and wouldn’t work. Too much for me. Screw Topolobampo, screw the Mexican mainland, Panama, and screw sailing altogether. Swearing and cursing, we anchored in Bahia Carricito. We didn’t know if our autopilot had kicked the bucket or simply had a loose connection. And with the bad mood, we weren’t in the mood for this long haul. So we missed the good weather window.

A rare sight

What lifted our mood though was a very unusual weather phenomenon: rain! It had been cloudy all morning that day, but when the rain started, it just wouldn’t stop. For one hour it just kept raining. You might wonder why rain would lift our mood. Because it never rains, and when it does, it’s usually just a few drops. So, we sat in the cockpit just enjoying this wonderful moment.

That’s It

And for the subsequent days, we just did absolutely nothing. Nada. Niente. When we had pulled ourselves together again, we quickly agreed on one thing – making day-long crossings and covering as many nautical miles southwards was simply not on the cards at the moment. The whole situation was a bit too fragile, and the nerves were severely strained. We decided to take it day by day. And behold – the moods calmed down again. Maybe we subconsciously put more pressure on ourselves with our Panama plans than we had thought.

You never stop learning, especially not on a sailboat. What happens next? Who knows – we have no idea. Time will tell. Anything is possible.

Der Beitrag Sailing Through Turbulent Waters erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

So there we were, anchoring for the first time in six months, and it felt splendid. Our anchoring manoeuvre was a success, even though we initially fell into an old pattern. Approaching an anchorage, finding it overcrowded, turning around, reconsidering as it didn’t seem so bad after all, and then anchoring. This time, a mooring buoy in the midst of the bay had confused us.

Getting Our Sea Legs Back

We had to regain our sea legs and recall all the procedures. What exactly does one do after anchoring, and in what order? Ah yes, the anchor light needs to be switched on. The snubber for the anchor chain is somewhere in the cockpit locker. And we mustn’t forget the anchor tracker – after all, we want to know if our anchor holds.

A Feast for the Senses

It was magnificent when we shut off the engine and could finally relish the silence. Over a beer, we toasted to our successful relaunch and everything else. A shrimp snack followed immediately. While exiting the Guaymas channel, a panga with two young fishermen approached us, offering shrimp for sale. We agreed instantly, exchanged shrimp for pesos and two beers. The shrimp, whole and freshly caught (unlike our fiasco in Peñasco), were delicious sautéed in garlic butter.

Our New Dinghy

Next, we got to launch our new dinghy and test the outboard motor for the first time. It went smoothly. We took a short excursion to the beach, meeting other sailors returning from a hike to the lighthouse. Their directions were simple: keep the power lines in view, and you’re on the right track.

First, a Coffee

After completing our online work the next morning, we turned off Starlink, packed our backpack with water and snacks, and set off for the beach. En route, we stopped by Shannon and Rob’s ‘Ocean Villa’ for a coffee. They were preparing to cross the Sea of Cortez with their grand steel yacht.

An Impressive Vessel

Their boat is truly impressive. Originally built for a family, it boasts four bunks for children at the bow and a large aft cabin for parents. Between them lies a spacious galley with a dining table and a deck salon with sofas. Above, there’s a pilot house and a ‘terrace’ for lounging. Shannon and Rob use this ocean villa for charter trips around La Paz. If you’re ever in the area, check it out.

Heading to the Lighthouse

When it was time, we said our farewells and headed for the beach. The path wasn’t clear initially, but we spotted footprints and goat hoofprints, with the power lines guiding us. The trail led through a sandy, rocky landscape, dotted with small trees and prickly bushes, ascending the hillside.

Faro Cabo Haro

Atop, we enjoyed a stunning view of the rocky coastline and the vast sea. Following the path along the ridge, we could see the ‘Faro Cabo Haro’ lighthouse in the distance. As we approached, two dogs ran towards us. The brown one greeted us enthusiastically, while the black-and-white one kept its distance. They accompanied us for the rest of the way, healthy and well-fed, though their reason for being there was unclear.

The Lighthouse Keeper

At the lighthouse, we met Omar, the keeper. He invited us to join him to sit on the steps, sharing that the lighthouse operates around the clock, vital for cargo ships and the navy. He works a week at a time, in solitude except for the dogs. He occasionally receives visitors but rarely converses due to the language barrier. Every Saturday morning, it’s shift change for a week.

Beach Cleanup

A path from the lighthouse led down to a small beach, the transfer point for the keepers. We were appalled to find the beach littered with trash. We spent the next half-hour cleaning up, filling crates with plastic bottles, shoes, toys, lines, and other debris. We moved them as far from the water as possible, knowing the next storm might sweep them back to sea.

Goodbye, Ocean Villa

On our way back, we passed the lighthouse again. Omar pointed out a large white yacht with blue underwater paint leaving the bay – it was ‘Ocean Villa’. We watched it sway in the swell, hoping their crossing wouldn’t be too rough.

Anchor Problems

Reaching our dinghy, we saw Pete and Nicole on ‘Swansong’ entering the bay, struggling to anchor. We went over, and Pete explained their anchor windlass had issues. I boarded to assist, and we decided he should anchor without the windlass to address the problem later.

Boat Projects Galore

We celebrated Pete’s successful launch with an ‘anchor beer’ and pondered the windlass’ malfunction. Our theories ranged from a blockage to a power issue. We found the winch’s main fuse switch turned off – fortunately, nothing was broken. We also fixed his toilets, which weren’t drawing water, by adding some to the pumps.

New Year’s Preparations

For New Year’s, with little wind forecast, we wanted to try a new anchorage, less sheltered. Both ‘Milagros’ and ‘Swansong’, without foresails or tuned rigging, motored around the corner to this beautiful bay with clear turquoise water, inaccessible by land except by off-road vehicle.

A Convoy

Exploring ashore, we saw a convoy of SUVs heading for the beach, equipped for the terrain. It was a men’s outing – one man per vehicle. They deflated their tyres and continued over the beach and gravel road, occasionally getting stuck but freeing themselves.

Till Midnight

We spent a cosy New Year’s Eve in Milagros’ cockpit with Pete and Nicole, enjoying tacos and drinks. Surprisingly, we stayed awake till midnight, unlike last year when we barely made it to ‘sailor’s midnight’ at 9 pm. Waking up the next morning, ‘Swansong’ had already left to dock in San Carlos, taking advantage of the calm weather.

Dealing with a List

We used the quiet bay to work on ‘Milagros’. We tuned the rigging and mounted our foresail, admiring the new grey UV protection I had added at the boatyard. We also addressed a slight list. Since removing the old, heavy batteries from the port engine room, ‘Milagros’ had been leaning to starboard. The previous owner had installed lead bars as counterweights. We moved these bars to the bilge, balancing the boat but pondering what to do with so much lead.

Returning to Guaymas

Soon after it was time to sail back to Guaymas. Reluctantly, we left the tranquil anchorage, knowing the noise, dirt, and crowds awaiting us. But it was necessary, as David soon had to fly to Bangkok for work. I would spend nearly 20 days alone on the boat, so we chose to anchor near Fonatur Marina in Guaymas, next to the Malecón – not picturesque, but practical.

A Bad Omen?

Pete and Nicole joined us for breakfast on David’s departure day. We opted for the hotel buffet in front of the bus station, witnessing a pigeon fatally colliding with a TV under the awning. We hoped it wasn’t a bad omen for the weeks ahead.

Goodbye, David

Then it was time for David to embark on his half-world journey to Bangkok: Hermosillo – Mexico City – Tokyo – Bangkok, a 52-hour trip! And there I was, alone on the boat at anchor for the first time…

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Der Beitrag Returning to Familiar Shores erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

The Boatyard Existence

Our tenure in the Boatyard extended beyond our initial plans, and we often found ourselves grappling with the challenges posed by the persistent dust, sand, noise, and an array of other discomforts. Faced with two options—either to succumb to frustration or to make the most of our situation—we oscillated between the two, sometimes sulking, sometimes embracing the circumstances. In a lighter vein, we volunteered to assist other sailors with their ventures, an ironic twist considering our list of pending tasks on Milagros. One such instance was joining Justine’s painting team.

Boat Painting Ventures

Our task was to paint her boat’s freeboard, a project that saw us applying sky blue paint, aesthetically pleasing but technically challenging. This wasn’t merely cosmetic paint, but a type designed for oil rigs, necessitating a thick, protective single coating that dried swiftly and hardened like rock. Achieving a smooth finish without visible streaks and lines proved challenging.

Consecutive Challenges

After multiple attempts, experimenting with various mix ratios, brush types, and contending with the elements like wind and sun, we triumphantly accomplished this task. Our team, self-dubbed the “Rig Pigs”, comprised David as the painter, Justine handling the final touches, and myself in a support role, proved to be a successful combination.

Material Acquisition

One morning, Keith arrived at our boat with the long-awaited engine mounts. Eager to start installing them, Keith had a different plan: “I brought these blocks, now come sailing with me.”

Return to El Mero

Dismissing half a day’s delay, we hastily prepared and joined Keith, along with Pete and Justine, heading to the former Kingdom of El Mero‘s remnants. We had spent time there last winter before a storm nearly destroyed it in July. And Keith had crafted two dock spots for his sailboats from left over materials.

Sailing Interlude

Launching Keith’s 54-foot boat, Aurora, proved tricky. We accidentally grazed a couple of crooked pillars while avoiding damage to ourselves over the boat. A solar panel was the only casualty. And when hoisting the sail, we had to improvise as the mainsail’s foot wasn’t secured properly, quickly fixing it with a rope.

Island Circumnavigation

With sails raised, our journey took us around a small island near Guaymas. Upon reaching the island’s leeward side, Justine took a spontaneous swim, relishing the cool waters. As we returned, we noticed all boats at El Mero tilted due to low tide. Opting to anchor offshore overnight, we encountered issues with a non-functioning anchor windlass and had to rely on guesswork for the anchor chain scope.

The Return to Shore

Keith, his daughter, and Tom stayed aboard while other cruisers helped us ashore. The next morning, we returned to El Mero to assist with docking. Hauling up the anchor by hand proved a good workout. A problem with Aurora’s gear lever required Keith to manually engage it from below deck, causing brief confusion with the boat moving backwards first. Despite the challenges, docking was successful.

Engine Room Endeavours

Back at the Boatyard, we dedicated ourselves to the installation of the engine mounts on our boat. Replacing three went smoothly, but the final one proved obstinate, its head snapping off in a hard-to-reach spot. After failing to drill it out over two days, we left it, resorted to epoxy, and drilled a new hole.

Motor Alignment Challenges

Next was engine alignment, where we hit another snag. I just couldn’t align it to the required precision of 1/1000″ (0.03 mm). Dismantling everything, I found the issue: dents on the surface of the shaft coupling, likely from a fall or a hit. After filing it carefully down, we managed to aligne the engine in an instant.

Fitting the Shaft Brake

Installing the shaft brake was next and another hurdle. This brake is crucial for preventing shaft rotation while sailing, a necessity due to our hydraulic gearbox. The process was arduous, but after much trial and error and a night’s rest, we successfully installed the brake, readying Milagros for launching.

Pre-Launch Preparations

With Christmas approaching, we hoped to spend it on water, but it was dashed by the yard’s schedule, delaying our launch until December 26. This gave us more time for preparations: testing the engine, applying antifouling, stocking up on diesel, gasoline, water, and provisions, and tidying up. We also enjoyed more time with Nicole and Pete. You might remember: Nicole from Switzerland visited us one year ago, now she’s visiting Pete.

Embracing Christmas

Christmas in Mexico is a vibrant affair, starting December 1st with traditional treats and drinks abound. We exchanged traditional delicacies with the boatyard workers, savouring Buñuelos from crane operator Mario and Champurrado from Roberto, while offering homemade Spitzbuben in return.

Our Christmas celebration was low-key, mainly video calls with family and friends and toasting with Nicole and Pete. We planned a barbecue and a movie night for Christmas Eve and a potluck with yard residents on Christmas Day.

The Anticipated Launch

With the launch imminent, we were apprehensive about the strong winds forecasted. The day of the launch arrived with challenging weather conditions, prompting us to reconsider. We didn’t feel confident to back out of the slip and turn the boat around with up to 20 kts in such tight quarterts. After much deliberation and a lack of conviction from various parties, we decided against launching in the gusty winds.

Rethinking Our Strategy

Determined to proceed, we requested the yard workers to lift Milagros and position her for a forward exit from the lift. This required removing first the forestay and then the backstay. This plan, too, had its share of drama: a hydraulic oil leak from the lift, but the staff assured us it was minor.

Launch Day Arrives

Finally, the next morning, Milagros was successfully launched. Walking under the lift, I felt a drop of hydraulic oil on my neck. But Milagros was in the water, all through-hulls dry, all systems functioning, and the engine started immediately. “Lines off!” We were finally moving.

Goodbye, Boatyard!

Leaving the Boatyard behind, we said goody bye, hopefully forever. Hasta not la vista! Memories of the dirt and toil began to fade within minutes, and soon it felt like we were never there. Peacefully, we sailed past Guaymas’ Malécon to a serene anchorage, closing the chapter of our Boatyard saga.

Cheers to the successful launch! If you want, you can celebrate with us by buying us a beer with a click on the button below. You can also become a monthly contributor by heading over to Patreon. Thanks a lot!

Der Beitrag Hasta Not La Vista erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

The Chewed Gum Conundrum

First, let’s rewind a bit. Our setting is Guaymas, in the midst of the bustling boatyard, where our spirits were dampened by prolonged frustrations. The anticipated three-week stay had overstretched, turning the drive shaft project into a relentless ordeal, akin to an over-chewed piece of gum – tough and lacking any semblance of pleasure. David had mentioned in his latest blog post about our urgent need for new engine mounts. Fortunately, we swiftly located a supplier, though the delivery was less than swift.

Batteries and Breakthroughs

On a brighter note, we achieved a significant milestone: the successful installation and commissioning of our new lithium batteries, specifically lithium iron phosphate ones. This task was not without its tedium, necessitating meticulous testing of each battery before installation. The advantages, however, were numerous: significantly reduced size and weight, deeper discharge capabilities, and no daily full charging required. To illustrate, our three former AGM batteries collectively tipped the scales at 210 kg (460 lbs) with a usable capacity of 380 Ah out of 765 Ah. In contrast, our trio of new lithium batteries weighs a mere 66 kg (145 lbs) while offering a usable capacity of 410 Ah out of 510 Ah – a remarkable improvement.

A Humorous Tale with Batteries

We experienced a rather amusing incident involving our batteries. Prior to our summer hiatus, we purchased from fellow sailors, Coy and Kalina, two batteries which they had only used for a few months. However, during our testing phase, one of the batteries exhibited unexpected behaviour. We promptly informed Coy about the issue, and he planned to file a warranty claim with Renogy. As we had not received any updates from him during our stay in Switzerland, we decided to order a new battery. Coincidentally, there was a promotional offer: ‘buy one, get a second at 50% discount’, prompting us to buy two batteries instead of one.

An Abundance of Batteries

Shortly after our purchase, Coy sent us an image of the brand-new replacement battery he received through the warranty claim. This was a pleasant surprise. Further, we later discovered that the ‘faulty’ battery was, in fact, in good working condition. Thus, we unexpectedly found ourselves with a total of five batteries, whereas we initially wanted only two. Fortunately, serendipity played its part when another sailor in the boatyard expressed a need for two lithium batteries. Hence, two of our excess batteries found a new home just a couple of boats away.

Revived and Resplendent

Master painter David, responsible for our deck’s fresh coat, also remedied some paint damage on the freeboard caused by the Travelift’s straps and another mysterious source. The result? Milagros was now gleaming, arguably the most stunning vessel in the vicinity, a sentiment we proudly shared.

Quest for an Outboard Engine

While awaiting engine parts, we ventured to Puerto Peñasco for an outboard motor. In May, we had seized the opportunity to replace our ailing inflatable dinghy with a more robust plastic sailing dinghy. This upgrade offered numerous benefits: lighter weight, no air loss, easier rowing, and sail capability. However, its lightness meant limited stern weight capacity. Our trusty 4 HP four-stroke, weighing nearly 30 kg (60 lbs), was too hefty, prompting the need for a lighter alternative. Fortunately, I stumbled upon a perfect fit in Peñasco: a 13 kg (29 lbs), 3.3 HP two-stroke.

An Unplanned Road Trip

The dilemma was transporting the outboard motor 600 km back to Guaymas. Thus, we decided to retrieve the outboard ourselves. Joined by Pete from SV Swan Song, awaiting his deck’s painting, we embarked on an impromptu road trip, armed with snacks and tunes.

Dodging Potholes

Opting for toll roads to avoid the infamous potholes of the alternative route – rumored to be 5 m (15 ft) wide and 2 m (7 ft) deep – we successfully navigated around the lesser but still treacherous potholes off the toll roads.

A Whirlwind of Activities

David, adept at securing Airbnbs, found us delightful beachside accommodation, which unexpectedly got upgraded to a beachfront house. Though our time to bask in this luxury was limited, given our jam-packed schedule: picking up the outboard, reuniting with old friends, showing Pete around, indulging in the finest Pastor Tacos, and more, all within less than 24 hours.

A Fortuitous Turn

Our afternoon arrival in Puerto Peñasco, followed by the collection of the outboard and check-in, was met with an intriguing proposition by the landlord. Originally planning to return to Guaymas the next morning, his offer to extend our stay for free, due to sparse tourism, was an unexpected boon. This stroke of luck for us, though unfortunate for the locals, was a result of a recently closed border crossing north of Puerto Peñasco.

The Quiet Town

The border guards there had been withdrawn to assist with surging asylum claims from refugees from Central and South America and African countries like Eritrea, Ghana, Ethiopia, and Cameroon. This shift, following the repeal of Trumps ‘Title 42’ in May, reinstated the right to asylum procedures for those setting foot on US soil.

Extended Leisure

With the beach, restaurants, and city almost to ourselves, we decided to indulge in an extra night. After all, there was ‘nothing’ pressing back on Milagros. A quick call extended our car rental, making the extra day possible.

Familiar Faces and Fond Memories

Back at the Cabrales Boatyard, we were greeted by more familiar faces than anticipated. Our encounters spanned numerous sailors, each exchange filled with stories and updates since we left Peñasco in February 2022. The camaraderie and sense of community were palpable, almost overwhelming in its warmth.

A Sense of Home

The boatyard, with its familiar faces, favourite eateries, and overall ambience, evoked a sense of home. In the spirit of being in the shrimp capital, we procured a kilo from our trusted fishmonger, planning a garlic butter feast for dinner, much to Pete’s anticipation.

The Last Gringos

Our day unfolded with moderate culinary delights, the world’s best donuts from Candy Cake, a serene beach stroll, and a visit to the deserted Malécon. The closed border had rendered Puerto Peñasco a ghost town, a situation we found appealing yet bittersweet for the locals. An encounter with a local, who jokingly dubbed us ‘the last gringos’, led to a heartfelt conversation about the prevailing uncertainty. He and his girlfriend, working in a pharmacy and a restaurant, respectively, were directly affected by the downturn. His parting offer of a significant discount on medicines and sunglasses was both generous and telling of the situation.

The Shrimp Fiasco

Our afternoon snack at Pane y Vino, boasting Mexico’s finest Pizza Margherita, preluded our evening plans. Aftera farewell drink on SV Lodos and a visit to SV Liquid we went back to our beach house for the shrimp dinner.

Unfortunately, the shrimps’ odd smell, initially dismissed by the crew, turned out to be a tell-tale sign of spoilage, confirmed by an unpleasant ammonia scent upon cooking. The meal was a bust, but the seagulls reaped the benefits of our misfortune. Thankfully, our earlier snack lessened the disappointment.

A Satisfying Conclusion

Our final day began with a return to the boatyard, heartfelt farewells, and a last indulgence in Candy Cake’s Apple Fritters. Our timely return of the rental car in Guaymas and some yummy pastor tacos marked the end of a memorable and largely successful excursion, a reminder that sometimes, things indeed fall pleasantly into place.

Let’s toast to this successful mission. You can buy us a beer with a click on the button below. You can also become a monthly contributor by heading over to Patreon. Thanks a lot!

Der Beitrag The Last Gringos: A Voyage to Beginnings erschien zuerst auf Milagros.