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.

It was time to try out the hidden gem recommended by ‘SV Cavu’: an anchorage not listed in Navionics, a popular navigation program. When the weather conditions were right, we leisurely sailed there, and we were happy to find that nobody else was there. We anchored using the GPS coordinates provided, and we immediately liked it there.

The Hidden Gem

We rowed ashore and explored the long, deserted beach, then climbed a nearby hill in search of the rumored village that supposedly housed a shop. Upon reaching the top, we spotted the cluster of houses and decided to pay it a visit the next day. In the evening, we packed a sunset beer and a beach ball set and rowed back to the shore. (Yes, we could have used our functioning outboard motor, but rowing is cozier and a good workout). It was fantastic to have everything to ourselves, except for the bobos – small, harmless, yet very annoying insects.

Yet Another Breakdown

Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay long at this beautiful spot because once again, there was a forecast of north wind. So, we sailed to the neighbouring Isla Carmen, which offered a lovely, protected bay: Bahia Colorado. On the way, it gradually became apparent that something was wrong with our not even 3-year-old B&G radio. We couldn’t hear anything, and the device in the cockpit connected via Wi-Fi and Bluetooth to the main unit refused to connect. The radio test was also unsuccessful. So, we were effectively deaf and mute. The AIS, the GPS position transmission, seemed to still work. Well, mostly.

Making Do with the Old

We had a sinking feeling that something might have gone wrong with the antenna or the cable. If so, it would be very troublesome and unsolvable until the end of the season. But to rule that out, we retrieved the old radios from the bilge and installed one indoors and one outdoors. Lo and behold, we immediately heard chatter on the radio indoors. But nothing outside. Then we switched the devices. Everything was audible indoors again, but not outside.

So, we knew: Everything was fine with the antenna, the cable to the navigation station, and the old devices, but the antenna cable to the cockpit was broken, too. At least we now had a working radio. We also spent about – not joking – 10 hours on hold with B&G. The result: the warranty had expired, the device was irreparable, and they could send us a new one at half price, but not to Mexico. Lovely.

Protection from the North Winds

Bahia Colorado was a beautiful bay with a rocky coastline on the southeast side of Isla Carmen. We explored it up and down with the kayak, as many rocks usually mean many pretty fish to look at. But it was still too cold for snorkelling. The north wind didn’t help either.

As soon as the wind subsided, we headed back to Isla Coronados, and essentially completing a circumnavigation of Isla Carmen. We had hoped for a stopover in a small, but very nice bay on the northeast side of Isla Carmen. But from the north, there was still an old swell that rolled into the bay, and we didn’t want to deal with the rolling.

A Long-awaited Goodie

The reason we wanted to go back to Coronados was specific: Bernie on ‘SV Momo’ was there. A few days earlier, he had sailed from Guaymas to the Baja side. And not only were we looking forward to see him, but he also had valuable cargo for us. Just before he left, I had bought a Sailrite sewing machine in Guaymas, and he had it on board. You might be wondering what a Sailrite sewing machine is. It’s a very strong industrial sewing machine that sews up to 12 layers in straight and zigzag stitches. I could even sew a sail if I wanted to. And I’ve wanted such a sewing machine since the beginning of our sailing journey. All previous sewing projects I have done on borrowed Sailrites, now I finally have my own.

High Time

In the following days, it became routine for Bernie to come over to our boat for an after-work or sunset drink, and we’d leisurely chat over a beer or two about everything and anything. Eventually, our supplies, especially the propane, ran out, and Bernie wanted to go a bit further north to spearfish. So, on a calm morning, we sailed back to Loreto for shopping. It was a good decision. Because just the evening before, we ran out of propane while cooking. Luckily, we have a portable induction plate for the morning coffee.

Meeting Up

We planned to do our shopping in Loreto in two trips, once for groceries and once for propane and diesel. Our dinghy didn’t have enough space for both. Once anchored there, we spotted the ship ‘Turquesa’ with Chris on board. We met him a few months ago north of Guaymas in an anchorage. On the way to the beach, we stopped by to chat with him. He spontaneously decided to come to the beach with us. So, we settled into a beach bar and enjoyed breakfast tacos. Bernie, in the meantime, was somewhere in town getting his hair cut.

Goodbye Bernie

Armed with our cart, we walked to the supermarket to replenish our supplies. The path led us along the attractive tourist mile, lined with trees and palms, ending at a church. On the way back, instead of ice cream, we treated ourselves to a delicious smoothie. When we got back to the beach by our dinghy, there was no sign of Bernie and ‘Momo’. He had already set off with his boat to the meeting point on the west side of Isla Coronados.

Mexican Hospitality

Meanwhile, we prepared for the second trip to town after storing the groceries. We grabbed our diesel cans and propane bottles and headed back to the beach. Chris was right behind us with his dog Max and his propane bottle. At the front of the street, I asked a Mexican where we could find a taxi. He just told me to wait a moment. Shortly after, he came back and said his friends could drive us.

A Bit Overweight

When the rather old and battered car pulled up, I asked again if he was sure: we’re 3 people, 1 dog, 3 propane bottles, and 3 diesel cans. He just said “yes, of course” and opened the trunk. We stashed all the bottles there and then squeezed onto the back seat. Pretty packed, with the cans still empty, we touched the asphalt at the first speed bump. But it didn’t bother them, and they continued to enjoy their beers. They told us they were fishermen and where in the area you could best catch the coveted yellowtail amberjacks. After refuelling with diesel and propane, the car was even more of a lowrider, but still our two new friends didn’t see any problem hauling us around town. They then dropped us back at the beach where we handed them a tip for their random act of kindness.

The Superyacht

When we looked towards Coronados, we saw that there must have been a huge boat at anchor. Bernie shortly sent us the link to the super yacht ‘La Datcha’, as he was anchored right next to her. David noticed two private jets approaching Loreto, and shortly after, two helicopters heading towards Isla Coronados. You read that right – 252ft-long ‘La Datcha’ carries not only one but two helicopters! But see for yourself: ’La Datcha’. That same evening, we also anchored next to ‘La Datcha’ and Bernie.

Heading North

The plan was to sail or probably motor about 20 miles north (about 4 hours under motor), as there wasn’t really any wind forecasted for the next day. But we didn’t mind. Our engine only consumes about 2.5 l/h. When I woke up early the next morning and put the coffee water on, I saw that Bernie was already gone and nowhere to be seen on the horizon. When we were ready to lift anchor, Bernie messaged that he had already arrived. He couldn’t sleep and had set off at 3 in the morning. Alright then.

Break for Burrito

We lifted the anchor without expecting any wind, but further north, we saw boats with sails hoisted. So, we prepared everything so that we could sail too. There really was enough wind to sail, and Burrito could take another break. We hoisted the sails and sailed leisurely north. In the south bay of San Juanico, six hours later, we dropped anchor next to Bernie. He paddled over shortly after with beer and self-caught and smoked mackerel. What a treat!

San Juanico

Bernie was ready for spearfishing, as the water temperature was finally acceptable, and San Juanico had excellent reefs for snorkelling and hunting. David was also ready. Unfortunately, David’s spear gun gave up the ghost while loading: the rubber bands were brittle and tore immediately. The same happened with my swim fins. The heat and salt just don’t do the material any favours. But luckily, we still had more fins on board, and Bernie had his own spear gun, so I could snorkel, and Bernie could catch fish. By the way, it was my first snorkelling of the season; before, it was simply too cold.

Back South Again

So, we spent a few relaxed days in this beautiful bay, and it became routine for Bernie to catch a fish, David to clean and fillet it, me to cook some menu out of it, and then all three of us to have dinner together in our cockpit. Sometimes it was fish and chips, sometimes ceviche, sometimes butterfish in wine cream sauce. Unfortunately, another north wind was forecasted, bringing an end to those days. We decided to sail back south again because we were about to meet with sailors from our time at the Cabrales Boatyard in Puerto Peñasco.

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Der Beitrag Sailing, Snorkelling, Enjoying 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.

We had decided not to sail to Panama this year – again. This time, however, not because of any technical defects on the boat like last season. The boat is in top condition, and our to-do list (currently) consists mostly of nice-to-have things: scraping and oiling the toe rail, sewing additional cockpit cushions and more covers, installing a remote control for the anchor windlass, and possibly wiring its forward gear and replacing the membrane in the watermaker. Such things.

A bad move?

We have worked hard to get to this point and to have Milagros the way we like it. At this point, I must comment on various voices that have reached us with the tenor that Milagros was a bad move. This is not the case at all. Milagros is a solid, 45-year-old boat with normal maintenance cycles and quirks like any other boat.

Typically Swiss

Our work-sailing ratio would certainly be better if, firstly, we didn’t always do all the boat jobs for the first time and they therefore took longer, secondly, we weren’t in Mexico, where everything takes longer and good materials are hard to find, and thirdly, if we weren’t so perfectionistic. The third point means that we try to avoid shortcuts as much as possible, and try to do the necessary repairs, maintenance, and improvements properly, not just turn a blind eye or wait until it’s too late. Preventive maintenance, so to speak. But of course, there’s a bit of bad luck involved from time to time. But with another or newer boat, it would not have been any different.

It’s about demands

They say “Sailing is repairing things with a beautiful view” or “Sailing is the most expensive way to explore the world for free.” Sea and sun are a harsh environment for all materials, and wear and tear is high. All sailors are metaphorically in the same storm, and for everyone, it applies that “On a boat, everything is broken, you just don’t know it yet.” What mainly differs are the demands on oneself and the boat and the ‘good enough’ threshold, i.e., when and whether something is good enough. Some don’t mind if water leaks into the boat here and there where it shouldn’t, and others want to eliminate leaks immediately. Some don’t care if the boat looks run-down, others do.

Milagros is great!

Therefore: Milagros is a great boat and ready to explore the world! The problem is that we are not. About a week after our failed crossing to Topolobampo and a few days of doing nothing, we still didn’t know what to do next. We felt good about our decision not to go to Panama for now. But we didn’t want to go home directly either. So, we decided to explore the area north of Guaymas.

To the north

We went to Bahia San Pedro, about six hours north of Guaymas. The huge bay had plenty of space, offered many exploration opportunities, and was also suitable for the prevailing north winds. It was far from civilization, without houses or shops or bars. At night, we could hear the coyotes on the beach and even saw some cows during the day.

Varnish must go

We spent 10 relaxed days in Bahia San Pedro exploring, fishing, walking, doing nothing, and as always, a few small boat projects. David dedicated himself to the varnish on our toe rail and removed the pitiful remains, whose layers still held together but no longer to the wood.

Pan Pan

We had also replaced the broken pin on our sailing dinghy’s rudder, and David used the nice breeze in the bay for sailing. As he was already on his way back to Milagros because the wind had meanwhile reached 18 knots and was too strong, the rudder gave up the ghost. Unable to manoeuvre, he drifted away. I couldn’t save him because he was sailing our dinghy and the kayak was still stowed. Via radio, I asked the neighbouring boat for help, and they towed him back to Milagros. Oops.

Fish gift

One morning we saw a pink panga coming into the bay. We got into the dinghy and rowed to the fishermen to ask if they had fish for sale. It turned out they were two gringos from San Carlos who had just been fishing further out and knew a sailboat in the bay. When asked about the colour of the panga, one said it was theft protection. On the one hand, it was a conspicuous colour, and on the other hand, no Mexican would ever want to zoom around in a pink panga. We exchanged two cold beers for three delicious fish with them. One of these fish was turned into one of the best fish dishes we ever had on Milagros thanks to our new grill.

Campfire

The last days in the bay we spent practically alone, only the Frenchman Chris anchored next to us. He suggested that we use the pleasant weather to make a fire on the beach. He collected wood diligently, and we brought dough for snake bread. So, we enjoyed the sunset sitting around the campfire.

A new security system

He told us about an interesting security system that he was developing. It’s called ‘Barking Boat. Sensors mounted in the hull emit a Doppler radar signal with very low power and detect movements outside the boat at a distance of up to 8 meters. This triggers a barking sound from a speaker and imitates a watchdog. Pretty cool

There are problems

We only had two small “problems” while we were there. One was food. We didn’t have enough fresh food with us. We had left two weeks earlier thinking we would be in Mazatlán 5 days later, where we could shop again. It’s not that we were starving. We just lacked some essentials like butter, eggs, milk, tortillas, and fresh vegetables. But in a pinch, you get creative. So we just made our own tortillas, baked a Russian braid with coconut oil instead of butter and without egg, stirred powdered milk into the coffee, and ate canned vegetables. Not too bad.

We must leave

The other problem was time. David’s next trip to Hong Kong was coming up, and we had to return to civilization. We really enjoyed our time in Bahia San Pedro and didn’t want to leave yet. But it is what it is. With a nice north wind, we sailed back to Guaymas two days before David’s departure. But we anchored first around the corner in Bahia Catalina. From there, we took a taxi into the city to buy the essentials. Two of the stories from the last post ‘Journeys and Connections: A Week in Guaymas‘ came from that day. Only on the day of David’s departure did we go back to the cesspool in front of Guaymas, where I would spend another two weeks alone on the boat.

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Der Beitrag Sailing Beyond Expectations erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

On the morning of David’s departure, Pete and Nicole picked us up from the marina for one last breakfast together. After a somewhat mediocre meal at the hotel buffet across from the bus station, David embarked on his 52-hour journey to Bangkok. Pete, Nicole, and I then headed to the opposite end of Guaymas, to the sea. Our destination was the ‘Perlas del Mar de Cortez’ pearl farm, where Pete had arranged a tour for us.

Local Pearls

Our tour guide, Fernando, was clearly passionate about pearls. With great enthusiasm, he led us to the Palappa by the sea, where they worked with the oysters. The process takes years – from collecting the baby oyster, inserting the nucleus, to finally harvesting the pearl itself. Originally a research facility, the farm now operates as an independent business. According to Fernando, the Sea of Cortez pearls, though cultivated, are unique. He showed us their range of colours and a special feature: under UV light, they glow red.

Back to Milagros

After the tour, I returned to the boat. It felt strange being alone on Milagros at anchor for the first time. A year earlier, David had been in Bangkok for two weeks, but then Nicole had visited, and I was docked at the Kingdom of El Mero for only a few days alone. Being alone at anchor is no issue – many solo sailors do it all the time.

A Bit Uncomfortable

However, something made it slightly uncomfortable: a strong, persistent north wind was forecasted. According to other sailors, one boat in the bay didn’t handle anchoring well and would drift across the bay in strong winds. Normally, David wakes up at any sound, while I sleep through. I was curious to see how things would go.

Nearly Freezing Temperatures

The first night brought a blast of icy wind from the north, dropping temperatures below 10°C. You might think that’s not too bad, but without heating, it was quite chilly. With 7 Beaufort (30 knots / 55 km/h) winds whipping over the water and buffeting Milagros, I trusted our anchoring, our anchor, and Milagros itself, but I set the anchor alarm and regularly checked our position. After a particularly strong gust, other sailors would check in to see if I was okay. Though sleeping through was impossible, but usually, the wind would die down by 3 am, allowing me to spend the last part of the night in dreamland.

A New View

Until now, we could only read the wind speed from the chart plotter in the cockpit, but it was too cold for that. So, I unpacked a yet-to-be-installed display, connected it to our data system (for those interested: an NMEA 2000 backbone), and set it up on the chart table. This way, I could comfortably see the wind speed from the aft cabin bed, through the tunnel.

It’s Over

Once the north wind had passed, my time at anchor came to an end too. While vacuuming the cabin one morning, I discovered water damage under the stairs leading to the cockpit. I opened the floorboards to find 5 cm (2”) of standing water in the bilge. Tasting it, I found it was salty. With the water damage above the floor, there weren’t many possibilities for its source, only one: the saltwater foot pump, which was indeed dripping. Unfortunately, we had neither a spare pump nor a maintenance kit on board.

Moving In

This pump is crucial for us, as we use it for washing dishes to save fresh water. Normally, we have a watermaker, but we don’t use it in places like Guaymas to avoid damaging the membrane with polluted sea water and, frankly, we wouldn’t want to drink the water from this cesspool. Anchored far out and not wanting to lug water back and forth, I booked a spot in the marina.

A Parting Gift

On a calm morning, neighbour Randy came over in his dinghy to help bring Milagros into the marina. Retrieving the anchor chain took surprisingly long because a nasty, slimy black muck clung to the chain, and we had to spray off every one of the 40 meters (130 ft) so it wouldn’t end up in the anchor locker. Finally, the anchor windlass struggled to lift the anchor. I thought Milagros had lined up the next project for us. But it turned out to be a gift. Our Bruce anchor had snagged a tyre for us, how thoughtful. Things could only get better.

Hello, Fonatur

And they did. I docked Milagros at a snail’s pace in the marina, while Shay and Yona from SV Holoholo and other dock neighbours took our lines. With Milagros securely tied up, it was easier to leave her alone. I had a hike in San Carlos on my list that I wanted to do: climbing one of the peaks of the local mountain, ‘Tetakawi’, colloquially known as ‘Teta de Cabra’ (Goat’s Teat) due to its shape.

Climbing the Teat

Nicole immediately agreed to my suggestion of climbing one of the teats. They kindly picked me up in Guaymas, and after a fortifying taco lunch, Pete dropped us off at the base of Tetakawi. We amusedly inspected a huge poster from the local tourism authority advising to bring at least 3 litres of water, wear good hiking shoes, and recommending gloves and a local guide. We, as hikers from Switzerland, found this somewhat exaggerated for a hike that was supposed to take a total of 2 hours.

The Climb

Following the trail, which was well-marked by Mexican standards, we knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park as we looked up at our destination. Initially, it was a simple stone path uphill, but later we had to climb over large rocks and rubble mixed with sand. Near the summit, we even had to use ropes someone had fixed. As I pulled myself up, I wondered if we could trust Mexican ropes, all too familiar with the ‘well-intentioned and then forgotten’.

And Down Again

The ropes held, and we reached the summit in 50 minutes, enjoying the fantastic view and catching our breath. It was indeed no stroll. The descent was challenging, too. Our shoes lacked sufficient grip for the sandy rubble mix. Nicole slid down on her seat, while I scrambled down on hands and knees. The poster at the start of the hike was justified after all.

Among Neighbours

Being in the marina felt like living in a neighbourhood. Everyone knew each other, greeted each other, and helped out. For example, Shay and Yona wanted to buy a larger anchor similar to ours, so I lent them ours for a trial fit. And neighbour Gavin helped me cut aluminium rails for our new grill’s railing mount, as I really don’t like the grinder.

Lucky Break

As the in-house baker for Keith on SV Aurora, I baked special muffins for their next sailing afternoon, and Pete picked them up from me at the marina. I was invited too but chose not to go for various reasons. In hindsight, I was relieved to have declined, as Steve, one of the sailors, passed away from a heart attack en route. He was a boat owner in the Kingdom of El Mero, had reached the age of 83, and took his last breath doing something he loved. It could be worse.

A Success

The maintenance kit for the foot pump finally arrived with the all-Saturday delivery from the USA. Eagerly, I dismantled the part and opened it. I had been warned: in many cases, the pump still leaks after maintenance. The internet suggested this was because the kit comes without instructions, leading to the seals and diaphragms being installed backwards. So, I paid extra attention during disassembly and took photos of everything.

Unicorn Power

Still, I wasn’t spared a typical boat moment. Upon opening, the pump spring jumped out in two pieces instead of one. And, of course, the maintenance kit didn’t include a new spring. Where to find such a spring in Guaymas was beyond me. I spontaneously asked our continental man, Lukas from Poland. He immediately asked for the spring’s dimensions, as he was having coffee with Richard. It’s worth noting that Richard’s large steel boat is said to carry at least another sailing ship in parts. Three minutes later, I received a picture of a unicorn with the sought-after spring. Thirty minutes later, it was delivered, and another thirty minutes after that, the pump was overhauled, installed, and leak-free!

Something Else to Do

While I was peacefully tinkering away, it suddenly hit me that I needed to renew my visa. I was allowed to stay until the end of April, but that was cutting it close. And it wouldn’t be as easy as from Guaymas later on. Last year, I could drive the 450 km to Nogales on the Arizona border with Keith, but this time I faced a bus journey. According to the bus company, it took about 5.5 hours each way.

To the US Border

On the Friday before David’s return, a taxi picked me up at 6 am, and the bus left at 6:30 am. After an endless 7 hours, I finally reached Nogales. Another 20 minutes and I was at the immigration office, where at exactly 2 pm, my passport was stamped with a 180-day stay permit. Afterwards, I wandered the streets and enjoyed a lovely lunch.

A Long Journey

The website listed buses back at 3:30 pm and 4:00 pm, easy. I arrived at the bus station by taxi in good time. Then, oh dear. Both buses were fully booked, and the next available was not until 5:00 pm. Eventually, I got back to the boat at 11:00 pm, making it a 17-hour round trip. Along the way, I discovered something interesting: I had, by chance, renewed my visa on the exact same day for the last three years.

The Other Side of the World

Meanwhile, David was enjoying his rainforest shower, relaxing by the hotel pool after work, and exploring Bangkok on his free days. He also had the chance to spend a day in Tokyo on his way there. Here are a few impressions:

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Der Beitrag Pati Home Alone erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

The marathon of visiting friends passed as quickly as it came. After Juli packed his things and we said goodbye to him at Mazatlán airport, we returned to Milagros, which layed anchored in the old port of Mazatlán again.

Home alone

Being back on the boat alone again was weird, but nice. For the first time in a long time, we had the whole boat to ourselves. Having all those friends over was great and we’re already looking forward to welcoming folks back aboard Milagros – but now we were been able to stretch our feet again, and immerse ourselves in our little everyday rhythm that we’ve built up on the boat over the years.

Something’s different

One morning, we experienced Mazatlán from a side that we hadn’t seen before. As always, we woke up early in the morning at first sunlight. But this time something was different. It was extremely quiet and only the occasional horn blast from large boats echoed through the area. I had to put my head through the hatch right away and check on the situation.

Cruise ship in the fog

And I was amazed: We were sitting in dense fog. We hardly saw the boats next to us it was so dense and Milagros was covered with thick drops of dew. However, the Mexican sun had already risen and quickly put an end to the spectacle. The fog cleared, revealing an impressive scene. With a deep, loud horn blast, a huge cruise ship pushed through the port entrance and the remaining clouds of fog and past our friends on SV Munday’s Off into Mazatlán harbor.

Back at the Kraken

We also visited the «El Kraken» football stadium again. The local football club had a home game against Monterrey. It was our third visit to the stadium already! We should have gotten a season ticket right away. So, we headed back out to cheer for the purple heroes. Instead of Florian, Tyr and Onno were with us this time around. Before kick-off we made ourselves comfortable in a restaurant near the stadium.

A stroke of luck

The restaurant we chose randomly should turn out to be a stroke of luck. We were received super friendly by the owner, who explained to us that in addition to various barbecued meat, the owners also served their own homemade cheese. Of we ordered a mixed meat platter with the cheese.

Filling our bellies

We were amazed when not just one, but two table grills filled to the brim with pork, chicked and beef seasoned with different BBQ sauces were placed in front of us. Wow! We enjoy the game satisfied and with full bellies where Mazatlán was defeated by Monterrey (as expected). In general, it was more of a Monterrey home game. The stadium was filled with black and white jerseys, and the Monterrey fans were LOUD.

Topolowhat? Topolohow?

Soon it was time to look for a weather window for the onward journey. A larger hop of about 200 nautical miles (370 km) was pending. The next destination was a small port town called “Topolobampo”. That would be yet another tongue twister for our good friend Hürzi, who has contributed a blog post about his visit on Milagros. At that time, he had a hard time pronouncing “Zihuatenejo”. Before leaving, we had to fill our diesel tanks, as we expected to be motoring during night time.

Topping up the diesel tanks in a different way

Getting diesel was a bit more complicated here in the Mazatlán harbor than anywhere else. We had to pack our diesel cans in our dinghy and cruise across the harbor to a dock where taxi boats took day trippers to a secluded beach. There had to be a gas station somewhere over there, Google said. So, we first did an on-site inspection, because here in Mexico you never know if the places that are marked on Google Maps actually exist. And indeed: there was a gas station with diesel, gasoline and even propane gas.

The viking rushes to help

We summarily recruited Tyr, who accompanied us on our drive through the harbor and helped us haul diesel. Under the incredulous eyes of a few dozen Mexicans, we docked our dinghy, got the diesel we needed at the gas station and were promptly given a ride back to the dock by a friendly local. Back on Milagros we filled her belly.

All the better!

Topolobampo is about 200 nautical miles north of Mazatlàn on the mainland of the Sea of Cortez. Unlike the much-visited Baja California Peninsula, only a handful of sailors lose themselves on the mainland because the general consensus is that there isn’t much to see, which is simply not true. All the better for us, so we could explore the area undisturbed. What is true is that on the mainland, the distances between the anchorages and cities that you can visit by sailboat are bigger.

Let’s gooo!

So, to our great joy (not) there were two nightly sails to be done. But you can’t always choose, so we had to bite the bullet. It is important that we have to jump over our own shadow from time to time. Our theory is that all we need to do is experience a few great night shifts for our attitude to change. Let’s do this!

Goodbye Mazatlan!

Unlike our last visit to Mazatlán, Burrito (our engine) started without a murmur and we were soon on our way. We expected southerly and easterly winds and no wind at night for the entire trip. The trip started with great sailing. Bye Mazatlán, it was fun! Vamos Maza!

The weird waters of Mazatlán

Along the way we noticed the same phenomenon as during our crazy crossing from La Paz to Mazatlán with Flo. The sea was choppy, with waves hitting the boat from different angles and at irregular intervals. Milagros’ movements, while weird and unfamiliar, were not uncomfortable. The wind also did what it was supposed to and pushed us towards Topolobampo.

Managing night shifts

We also managed the night shifts well. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, which helped a lot, our surroundings weren’t just pitch black. As expected, we had to cover part of the nightly route under engine, which at the same time always means that the sea calms down. Only having to deal with the noise of burrito, we could sleep without being constantly pushed around.

Sea creatures everywhere

The second day was peppered with great encounters with sea creatures. A humpback whale surfaced right next to the boat to take a breath, sea lions were haning out the waters everywhere and could hardly believe their eyes when they saw Milagros passing by them, dozens of sea turtles were on the move.

We’re too early

Since we wanted to take advantage of a window of good wind, we left Mazatlán a little early. It quickly became clear that we were a little too early to enter the channel to Topolobampo. We had to actively waste time. In the early morning hours of the second night, a light wind picked up. So, I could enjoy beautiful and very slow sailing on my shift while Patricia could snooze. When fog came up, the scenery turned into a dreamland.

Magical, foggy night time sailing

The moon in the sky lit up the whole sea of fog, the sea was smooth as glass and the light wind pushed Milagros very slowly but steadily. We sailed absolutely silently through the fog at a snail’s pace. Nocturnal bird calls, which we normally never hear, rang out from the humid environment. Light rippling on the hull, no noise from the wind blowing around our ears, no creaking and squeaking from the cabin, no rushing of the waves. It was pure magic.

Buying time

Although we only made slow progress during the night, we were still too early. When it was Pati’s turn for her shift, we just decided to drift for a few hours and wait for the first light of day. It was my turn to take a break and I didn’t wake up until we were slowly but surely moving toward the entrance to Topolobampo Bay.

Through the canal to the marina

The small town lies inland in a beautiful bay at the end of a man-made excavated canal. Large container ships and a ferry pass through the sandbar, so the canal is well maintained and buoyed. So, it was easy for us to find the way. The night before we radioed back and forth Tim from SV Coconut, who was also on the way from Mazatlán to Topolobampo right in front of us. He found a place in the marina there, told us that there was free space, and so we spent two nights in the pretty little marina of Topolobampo.

Exploring Topolobampo

As soon as we arrived, we set off to take a closer look at Topolobampo. With almost 6000 inhabitants, it is a tranquil town, but it has a large port where big cargo ships can dock. The houses painted in many different colors are particularly beautiful to look at – they reminded us of our great visit to the mind blowing Iztapalapa district in Mexico City together with Nic and Janine from SV Rua Hatu.

Tacos at Don Gato

After indulging in tacos at Don Gato (which are probably some of the best we’ve ever had), we just walked around town, following our noses. This under the curious gaze of the inhabitants of Topolobampo; apparently not many foreigners stray into the city. Topolobampo is very pretty and definitely worth a visit. Unfortunately, the ugly side of humanity showed itself, too.

Ewwwwww

At the very end of town, a river of sewage pours straight into the waters in front of the town. In general, Mexico, like so many other countries on the planet, has a problem with the treatment of its sewage. In many places, these flow directly into the sea, often completely unfiltered. The kind of mess we are making of the only freaking planet we have leaves us speechless over and over again.

Discovering yet another new to us anchorage

Back on the boat I discovered an anchorage just at the entrance of the canal in our navigation program that looked promising and which we had overlooked in the planning. “Hook’s Anchorage” was its name. What a salty name for an anchorage – of course we had to check it out. Said and done.

Hook’s Anchorage

After two nights in the marina of Topolobampo and far too many days in the filthy but fun old port of Mazatlán, we were finally back in a real anchorage. We made the best of it relaxing, exploring, dinghying into the nearby mangroves and planning for the next leg which would take us to our final destination for the season – back to Guaymas and San Carlos.

Plastic everywhere

But here, too, we were caught up in the grim reality of the state of our environment. The long, beautiful beach was covered in pieces of plastic of all sizes. A particularly large number of the bottles were marked with the famous red caps of a well-known beverage giant. We didn’t let that spoil our mood because we had the whole sandbank to ourselves. So, we enjoyed long walks every day, the peace and quiet and being alone. We just love having anchorages all to ourselves.

Someone wants to move in with us

Apart from us and our floating home, there was only the animal world, which wanted to make Milagros its home. Pati was busy reading in the cockpit, when suddenly our solar panels started making a racket. After an initial startle, she set out to find the source of the riot. The culprits were small birds that seemed to be busy scouting a possible nesting site under our solar panels. They flew in and out and landed on the mounting plates on our railing. We let them have their way because we had to move on anyway, which would not leave enough time for nesting. And they were cute, too, those little guys.

The last crossing of the season

The days passed and soon it was time for the last passage of the season. We wanted to pay a visit to the kingdom of El Mero, where we tackled some projects before being southbound at the very beginning in the winter of 2022. There we had to prepare for the haul out of Milagros. This last crossing of another 185 nautical miles was relatively uneventful with changing wind forces and a few hours of great but uncomfortable sailing in the last part before we finally turned the corner back into the kingdom and anchored there, under the eyes of many old acquaintances and a few new faces.

Preparations for the haul out

Instead of docking at the old El Mero docks, we decided to anchor further out. This enabled us to dismantle our sails and make initial arrangements for getting out of the water. We had big plans. Our choice for the time at the Boatyard was «Gabriel’s Yard», where Iñaki and Carmen did their big refit of Anila. They didn’t leave the best review, to put it nicely. Now we wanted to take a close look at the situation ourselves. Exciting times are ahead!

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Der Beitrag The Comforts of Solitude erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

After Hürzi and Chrigi had left, we spontaneously decided to stay at Marina La Cruz with Milagros for a couple of days. Fortunately, they had a spot for us, and we were able to move in the next morning. With our dinghy, we scouted the slip assigned to us so that we knew what to expect when entering the marina.

Marina Time

We switch the role of captain on every trip, and this time David was in charge of the docking maneuver. It was only his second time, but with the help of Pete and Jay on SV Mazu, he managed to dock Milagros without any problems. We used the marina time to give our boat a freshwater shower and welcome Juli aboard.

Hi Ron

While we were taking Hürzi and Chrigi to the taxi, we ran into Ron from SV Mar de Luz. We had met him months ago on our trip from Bahia Conception to Isla San Marcos over the radio and met him again in San Carlos when we prepared Milagros for the haul-in. It was nice to catch up on each other’s experiences over a delicious pizza.

A Problem

However, we were facing a significant dilemma. We needed to make a final decision about whether or not to sail to Panama. The distance to cover was still 1,700 nautical miles (approximately 3,200 km), and we had to reach Chiapas, which was around 1,000 nautical miles away, within six weeks to avoid the hurricane season. This was a tight schedule, especially considering that the winds were gradually shifting from north to south, making it less than ideal for motoring against southward winds. Besides, our sailing motivation seemed to have gone missing. Nevertheless, we had Juli onboard as crew for the next 20 days, who we could cover a part of the long stretch with. However, this also meant that we would have to bypass many beautiful destinations. So, the question remained: were we willing to undertake this expedition with a faulty propeller shaft?

Yes or no?

On the other hand, if we decided not to continue towards Panama, it would feel like a setback as we wouldn’t have made it out of Mexico. Additionally, we wouldn’t be able to sail in Panama with my sister Carmen, Iñaki, and their boat Anila as they plan to cross the Pacific next January. If we turned around now, we could only attempt the journey south again in October, which might make us arrive in Panama too late. Alternatively, we could rush the entire distance in 2-3 weeks, but that would mean missing out on all the beautiful places in Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Costa Rica. The question remained: If we did turn back, where would we go? Should we stay in La Cruz or head to Mazatlán or back to San Carlos or Guaymas?

A decision had to be made

It was an overwhelming situation, with so many questions on our minds, and we just couldn’t make a decision. Our sailor friends, who were in a similar situation, compared us to an indecisive 15-year-old teenager. We discussed these questions with different people and searched within ourselves. After weeks of going back and forth, we realized that the idea of sailing to Panama didn’t feel right at the moment.

Something was holding us back from committing to the journey. Therefore, we made the difficult decision to turn around. Unfortunately, our decision didn’t bring our motivation back. We would have preferred to end the season right there and then and leave Milagros in La Cruz for the summer. However, since we still had our guest on board, we gathered our strength and began our journey north with Juli. We didn’t have a destination in mind, but we knew that the next airport was in Mazatlán, so we decided to sail there with him.

Chacalakka

We made a stopover in Punta de Mita before sailing to Caleta de Cuevas, located around the corner from Chacala. Our boat was the only one in this small bay. However, due to the waves, we couldn’t land on the beach with the dinghy. I dropped off David and Juli just before the beach and picked them up after their exploration tour. Luckily, David caught a Mahi Mahi on the way, so we treated ourselves to fresh sashimi and poke bowls for dinner. The next day, we continued our journey to Chacala, a small beach paradise where we enjoyed sipping on margaritas. We also indulged in sushi made from the remaining part of the Mahi Mahi, which was simply delicious.

The Bay of Matanchen

Taking advantage of a favorable weather window, we set sail for Matanchen the next day. This large bay in front of San Blas was particularly remarkable for its shallow waters; even several nautical miles away from the shore, the depth barely reached 10 meters. Nonetheless, we made sure to anchor at a safe distance, as we had been warned by several sources about the pesky, almost invisible insects known as Jejenes (no-see-ums). These tiny bugs, only 1mm in size, could penetrate any net and their bites would itch for days. For our anchor beer, we indulged in a delicious Moitié-Moitié fondue that Juli had brought all the way from Switzerland.

An interesting anomaly

Over the next few days, we took the time to explore the charming village of San Blas. We anchored our dinghy near a beachfront restaurant, where one could rent a table for the day and order food and drinks. We were a bit puzzled as to why one had to pay for the table on top of food and drinks. But that seemed to be normal all along that beach.

Additionally, we encountered an interesting problem: the timezone on our phones seemed to be all over the place. At one point, each of our three phones displayed a different time. We soon realized that part of the confusion stemmed from the fact that Mexico had recently abolished daylight-saving time in most areas, but the internet hadn’t caught up yet. When we tried to check the time on Google, we found that even that was incorrect. It left us scratching our heads as to where the third time zone had come from.

Should we?

It is crucial to know the precise time in San Blas, as navigating up the river to enter the marina requires calm waters at high tide, just before it shifts to low tide. We pondered over the idea of spending a few nights in the marina with Milagros, or at least anchoring in the nearby mangroves. However, upon visiting the marina, we discovered that there were no available free spaces either inside or outside the marina.

A jungle tour

One of the highlights of our stay in San Blas was a jungle tour by panga. Rather than boarding at the usual tourist spot, we opted to embark downstream, allowing us to avoid the crowds and share the boat with only a small family. The three-hour guided tour took us through the river mouth and the mangrove swamps, culminating in a visit to the natural pool at La Tovara spring. Along the way, we spotted crocodiles up to 4 meters in length, turtles, and a variety of birds. Our driver had a remarkable ability to spot wildlife from afar, including an owl that camouflaged itself as a branch and was difficult to see.

Landscape changes

It was fascinating to observe how the landscape changed gradually during our jungle tour. At the beginning of our journey, we had to dodge hanging mangrove branches, as this part of the river was not as frequently traveled by tourists, and no one bothered to clear the obstacles. As we passed the tourist entry point, where dozens of fully loaded pangas started, we noticed that the mangroves were trimmed back and more manicured. As we continued on our journey, the saltwater content of the river gradually decreased, and the mangroves started to disappear, giving way to various trees, bushes, and palms.

Local specialties

At La Tovara spring, a crocodile farm and a wildlife rescue center was situated. In some enclosures, small crocodiles were piled on top of each other, giving us a chance to see these impressive creatures up close. There was also a fenced-off area in the river where visitors could swim without worrying about crocodiles. Naturally, Juli and David didn’t pass up this opportunity and took a refreshing swim. Later, we savored the traditional fish dish of the region, Pescado Zarandeado, cooked over a wood fire.

The Fortress

The fortress built in 1760 atop Cerro de Basilio in San Blas was a fascinating historical site we visited while waiting for a suitable weather window to sail further north. This fortress holds great importance as one of the most significant historical sites in the state of Nayarit. During colonial New Spain, it served as a naval base, and it became a battlefield during the War of Independence and the war against the United States.

The Temple

Next to the fortress, there is the “Templo de la Virgen del Rosario.” The Virgin of the Rosary was the patron saint of the Spanish navy and was highly revered in the city of Cadiz in Andalusia, the port from which ships traditionally sailed to New Spain. As San Blas was the most important Pacific port for the Spanish Crown, the veneration of “Señora del Rosario” was adopted. She was affectionately called “La Marinera” (The Sailor) and took care of the missionaries who explored the lands of Alta and Baja California, as well as the trade galleons coming from the Far East. We also visited the nearby cemetery and were impressed by the lovingly designed graves. Some had canopies with seating areas for proper visits to the deceased.

A Bit of Fun

For David and Juli, the highlight of our stay in San Blas was undoubtedly the jet skis. They rented two of these vehicles and explored the bay. It was similar to the dune buggy experience in Puerto Peñasco. If you’re not driving, they can be annoying. However, when you’re the one playing with them, it’s a lot of fun.

On a Collision Course

When the wind was finally in our favour, and we set sail towards Isla Isabel, known as the Galapagos of Mexico. On the way, we noticed an intriguing phenomenon in the water: a brown, foamy line separating dark water from blue water. It appeared that two distinct currents were converging there. Suddenly, David exclaimed that I should stop the boat and turn it around because there was a rock-like object ahead of us. Thankfully, it turned out to be a whale shark, calmly feeding in the current line. While a rock would have been startling, we certainly didn’t want to collide with a whale. The specimen wasn’t fully grown but still measured 7 meters in length, about half the length of our boat. We circled this majestic animal a few times, as it was the first whale shark we had ever seen in the wild.

Isla Isabel

As we sailed towards Isabel, we hoped there would be space for us to anchor this time, unlike our previous attempt where we had to move on due to limited space. Fortunately, luck was on our side, and we secured the best spot in a rare sandy patch. At daybreak the following morning, we took the dinghy to the beach and followed the well-marked trails.

The island was brimming with nesting blue-footed boobies and frigatebirds, their nests scattered across the ground and low trees due to the absence of natural predators. We were able to observe them up close, getting as close as 1-2 meters. Later in the afternoon, we went snorkeling around the large rocks on the east side of the island. It was my first time snorkeling this season, as it was too cold during the beginning of the season on the Baja side and the water was murky on the Mexican mainland.

Bye-bye, Juli

These moments at Isla Isabel considerably raised our sailing motivation. The serene, isolated anchorage with crystal-clear waters and hardly any boats was exactly what we liked and needed. There were no Pacific swells, no crowds on the beach, and no murky waters to deal with. Sadly, we only had 24 hours to revel in this paradise since Juli had a flight to catch. The next day, we sailed back to Mazatlán where we spent his last day exploring the city, attending a cozy cover rock concert, and partying on the beach for Easter Sunday.

Juli’s verdict

The abundance of wildlife, meeting wonderful people, playing settler of catan, and jet skiing all thrilled him. The only drawback was that he wished we had spent more time sailing on longer stretches. Overall, it was a highly successful sailing trip.

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Der Beitrag Navigating Uncertainty: The Panama Dilemma erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

This time you’ll get to read a blog post from a different writer than usual, as I offered to take over this one. A brief introduction to myself: I am Hürzi, 34 years young, almost always in a good mood and an absolute novice when it comes to sailing. But I am highly motivated to experience new things. Fortunately, I did not embark on this journey alone, but with the professional support of Chrigi. He is also 34 years young, always good-looking and equipped with a sailing license for inland freshwater sailing. We were ready for an adventure at sea.

Where it all began

Years ago, when Pati and Dave told us that they had bought a sailing boat in Mexico and intended to live on it, we were initially amazed. When I asked Dave why, he replied, “There were about 100 reasons against it and about 3 in favor of it. So, the decision was an easy one.” After a brief reflection and, of course, 1-2 beers, we all agreed that it all made absolute sense! The idea to visit them arose relatively quickly. However, it was not until 2023 that it became a reality.

All aboard!

In preparation, we received a packing list from Pati and Dave with many useful but also bizarre items. Decathlon was an excellent point of contact for this. But what on earth were Crocs? After the obligatory Googling, it became clear that we really did need them… (I will explain why later.)

Hello Milagros

Once everything was packed (we did not buy Crocs), flights were booked, pet care was arranged, and our employers were reasonably satisfied with our plans, we were on our way to Mexico to visit Pati and Dave. We arrived at the airport in Puerto Vallarta without any complications, and the two of them greeted us. In no time, we were in La Cruz, a small suburb of Puerto Vallarta, and were able to load our luggage onto the dinghy.

We set off in calm waters in the darkness towards Milagros. Once we arrived on the boat and everything was stowed away, we could familiarize ourselves with the boat, including a crash course on the most important things. After all, a boat’s toilet must be operated correctly. The gentle swaying of the boat was also a bit unusual on the first night, but it became more familiar over the two weeks and gently rocked us to sleep.

Good morning Mexico

We couldn’t miss the first sunrise on the boat, so we unintentionally woke up a bit earlier and witnessed everything around us slowly gaining momentum. Fishermen were heading out to sea, the pelicans and seagulls gliding 3 inches above the water, and the smell of fresh coffee in the boat’s galley. On the first day, we visited a market at the local marina, where everything from the finest Mexican food and vegetables to art paintings and objects was offered. There were also two live bands on site, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Crocs?

On the way back to the boat, waves were already higher than usual, as thermal winds provided a stiff breeze every afternoon. However, Pati managed to maneuver us back to Milagros without getting too wet. But an unexpected wave hit us, and my sneakers were soaked with salty seawater. Pati gave me a sardonic smile and said, “See, that’s why you need Crocs.” (That was Crocs lesson number one.)

The first and only leg of the trip

Having satisfied our cravings for Mexican food and acquiring some souvenirs, we began planning our first leg of the journey. Our final destination, Zihuatanejo (I still can’t pronounce it correctly), was approximately 400 nautical miles away. We planned to reach it in several legs, including some overnight sailing. Our first trip was expected to last about 16 hours. So, we restocked our supplies the next day, and around 3 PM, we hoisted anchor. Prior to our departure, Pati and Dave warned us that we might get seasick. Fortunately, my nausea tablets were safely stored in the sleeping quarters. However, the wind was favorable, and we sailed towards our destination with a pleasant 13-knot breeze and relatively calm waves.

Do we have sea legs?

After about three hours, I had the brilliant idea of fetching my gloves and water bottle from the cabin (my initial preparation was dreadful). This decision caused me to feel unwell, and my complexion turned pale within 20 seconds. Dave quickly noticed and gave me one of his tablets, which took effect just in time. Chrigi remained relaxed throughout the journey and actively participated in sailing. As the temperature dropped after sunset, Pati, with her strong stomach, brought us some warmer clothes from below deck. Just as we were changing, a larger wave hit the boat, and Chrigi’s “nausea-free-since-03” record was ruined. Nevertheless, hats off to Chrigi for bouncing back and being 100% ready for action within minutes. I had never seen anything like it before.

An unpleasant surprise

Even after switching to motor power, the next few hours were peaceful, and the night sky became even more beautiful with stars illuminating it. The light pollution was zero. However, Pati surprised us with the news that the shaft seal was leaking pretty badly. Uh-oh… We had to choose between continuing on without knowing how well-equipped the nearby villages were for repairing the damage or turning around and heading back to La Cruz. We unanimously decided to return to familiar waters and deal with the significant problem. However, since there was no wind, it took about five hours of motoring to return. We were rewarded with rare and stunning green-blue bioluminescence in the water. Chrigi kept a vigilant eye out in the darkness and spotted another vessel to avoid. We returned to our old anchorage around 4 am and deserved some rest and sleep after the obligatory anchor beer.

Damage assessment and boat projects

The next day, we examined the damaged seal more closely and it was clear that it needed to be replaced. Since there were still 2 spare seals readily mounted on the shaft, this was theoretically feasible. However, could it be done with the boat in the water or did the boat need to be taken hauled out? Fortunately, we were not the first to ask this question. And with 2 quotes for hauling out for 15 minutes at $1,000 each, the decision was clear – it should be done in the water. But the preparation for it would take some time.

Small projects here and there

In the following days, we devoted ourselves to various boat projects. Chrigi and Pati decided to install a second bilge pump while they were at it. Dave and I worked on the boat’s electrical system. In case any readers ever have to do this: boat electrical systems do not follow rational physics and like to mislead you by principle. Since we were already so actively implementing several projects, we also changed the oil in the dinghy engine, repaired chipped drawers (fortunately for me with water-soluble glue), and laid a new hose for the bilge pumps through the interior of the boat.

The big moment

The replacement of the shaft seal also went smoothly. First, I sealed the shaft from the outside with toilet bowl wax. Then Pati and Chrigi changed the seal with almost no water ingress. Dave kept an eye on all of us, so that none of us deviated from the plan. After 15 minutes, that was done and we started the rest of the day in good spirits.

Meeting nice people

Our unexpected stay in the same place also had many beautiful sides. Chrigi and I were able to get to know other sailors as well. Hazel and Paul from SV Susimi were the first. The four of us explored the nightlife of La Cruz and found many delights while Paul shared some of his sailing adventures. Of course, a big topic was their upcoming Pacific crossing. Just imagine not having any land around you for about 30 days. Scary stuff. But the two of them were in good spirits.

Settler battles

On another lovely evening, Holly & Saxon from SV Sonrisa II and Brooke from SV Akhlut came over to Milagros for a delicious sushi dinner and stories from the Australian sailing community. After dinner, an intense game of Settlers of Catan ensued. This is never easy against Catan grandmaster Pati and can take several hours and nerves. At this point, cheers to everyone from cold and rainy Switzerland.

Pati’s 27th birthday (again)

During our time on board, we also celebrated Pati’s birthday. In secret, Dave, Chrigi, and I had thought about how we could make Pati happy on that day. Our choice fell on a homemade marble cake, a morning of surfing at the beach, lunchtime beers in the shade at the beach, and a fabulous dinner at a fancy restaurant. The day was a complete success, and Pati showed us boys how to behave as future surfing hopefuls from Aesch.

A wake-up call

Once again, the advantage of Crocs over sneakers became evident on the beach. While I tried not to get half of the beach into my shoes, Pati and Dave marched ahead carefree (Hello… Crocs wake-up call number 2).

Starboard, knots, and what the heck is luffing?

By now, it was clear that I should use the time on board to expand my non-existent knowledge of sailing and boats in general. Pati gave me “Sailing for Dummies” for this purpose. A book written as if it were written for me. With simple words and basics 😀 So I could finally participate a little in these conversations and over time, I understood what the three were talking about when they switched to sailor slang.

On to new, deep shores

With most of the pending projects completed, we wanted to test them out. So, we took some short trips in the huge bay of Puerto Vallarta and got to see some of the wildlife Mexico has to offer. Just 200 meters away from us, four humpback whales were leisurely swimming around. Even though we were only traveling at 4-5 knots, a school of dolphins (including a small baby dolphin) joined us and had fun swimming with our boat for about 20 minutes. Everything seemed to be working well after the repairs. The new seal wasn’t 100% tight, but it was much better and more reassuring than before.

It’s deep

We also decided to anchor in the bay of Yelapa for two nights. Well, in the loosest sense of the word “anchoring”… At our assigned spot in the bay, the depth was indicated as 44 meters (150 ft), about 50 meters away from the shore, which speaks to an extreme gradient. It was crazy compared to the 5–6-meter depth in La Cruz. Our anchor chain was nowhere near long enough for 44 meters. So, we had to grab onto a buoy. Now we really felt the waves from the Pacific, so we decided to set a stern anchor.

The stern anchor is no bueno

However, said stern anchor decided to drag in the middle of the night, triggering the anchor alarm. Pati and Dave put in a spontaneous hour of nightly work. They retrieved the anchor so professionally that Chrigi and I slept through it all. The sight of the stern anchor on board and our boat having turned 180 degrees did cause some surprise for us the next morning. But the next anchoring attempt worked perfectly.

Beautiful Nature

During the two days in Yelapa, we took great walks into nature and the village itself. The path to the waterfall was beautifully winding along the entire valley with a little river flowing in its center. Luckily, I had worn my sneakers…until the first spot where we had to cross the river without a bridge, it was definitely the right decision. While Pati and Dave leisurely strolled through the water in their Crocs, Chrigi and I tried our luck with the large stones in the riverbed.

We managed to cross to the other side with dry feet in a clean Frogger-style. “Harharhar!” Crocs are not a must. This time we won over the Croc-wearers…well, at least for the next 500 meters. Then we had to cross the river again, but without the help of big stones this time. We had to take our shoes off and put them back onto our wet feet. (Mhhh. Maybe Crocs would have been a good idea after all? Crocs wake-up call No.3)

A beautiful hike

We were rewarded with a delightful and refreshing freshwater bath at the waterfall. And on the way back, we even saw wild parrots heading towards the sea. We decided to walk back a little bit in the river. Our feet were already wet anyway. Same scenes as before. The two Croc-wearers walked ahead enjoying nature, while we barefoot people had to be careful not to step on sharp stones, giant spiders, or dead toads. (Heaven, I got it! Crocs would have been very useful for this vacation. It took four Crocs wake-up calls to figure it out).

The day ended with a delicious meal and beer at a restaurant. The sunset that evening left us speechless, and we began to understand why people are drawn here. We also enjoyed the second day exploring the village. We discovered some hidden hotels, small restaurants, and a construction site that was still supplied with donkeys and mules. What a sight in today’s time.

A close call

On our second to last day, we sailed comfortably with 11 knots of true wind back to La Cruz, so there was no rush on our return day for Chrigi and me. Even a humpback whale waved its tail fin cheerfully at us from a distance on the starboard side. Everything seemed to be working wonderfully. However, as we were about to switch to the motor after hauling in the mainsail and the jib just before La Cruz, the motor did not start as usual. When Pati shouted from below deck, “There’s a fire in the engine room,” a little bit of panic set in for each of us. The motor stop button also did not work as intended.

What now?

Since I knew the least about engines, I stayed at the helm and steered us in the direction where we had the most room to maneuver. Pati, Dave, and Chrigi tried various ideas to turn off the motor. With a diesel engine that runs and doesn’t want to shut down, it’s not an easy task. Suddenly, Pati jumped into the cockpit and pressed the motor’s shut-off button again, which luckily had an effect. Silence from below. But what now?

Report on the situation

First, a report on the situation. It quickly became clear that there was no fire, thankfully, but rather some oil had vaporized, causing the smoke. The problem was identified as the starter motor, which was likely stuck when starting and did not disengage after the engine started. This caused the starter motor to heat up and explain the smoke. Additionally, because the starter motor relay prevented simultaneous use of the stop button while it was engaged, we now understood why our first attempt to stop the motor was ineffective. So, we tried again. This time, everything worked smoothly without any smoke, and we headed back to our old anchorage. We definitely deserved a celebratory anchor beer this time.

Until next time

The day of departure had arrived, and it was time to say goodbye. The two weeks had passed by faster than expected. We loaded our practical duffel bags onto the dinghy and headed to the La Cruz marina to enjoy one last fresh seafood meal. We discussed the last few days and exchanged our impressions one more time. Chrigi and I would like to say thank you for allowing us to experience this adventure, even though it didn’t go as planned, it was simply perfect.

Lastly, the two of them ordered us a taxi, and after a proper goodbye hug, Chrigi and I headed back to Switzerland without any major issues. Well, almost problem-free, but that’s another exciting story.

Cheers, Hürzi

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Der Beitrag Adventure on Milagros – A Travel Report erschien zuerst auf Milagros.

A maze of memories

The 41 hours from La Paz to Mazatlán were beautiful, extremely arduous, fascinating, scary, extremely easy, extremely difficult. It was up and down and up and down and up and down. I have noticed that this is what I struggle most with since living on Milagros. The constant changes in mindset, morale and level of happiness and comfort. Nothing is ever constant on a sailboat. Everything can change within short periods of time. A lot of people say that that’s where the beauty of cruising life lies for them. Not for me.

A storm of thoughts

What we have both noticed on our crossing to Mazatlàn is nothing new, really. We still don’t like being underway at night. Once the sun sets and the night covers the boat, we feel like we just have to give up a little too much control. We both feel that way. Sometimes, even in daylight, I have the feeling that I’m constantly pushing the limits of my comfort zone, and this is even more noticeable at night. Even the smallest occurrences or unusual things stress me out and my reaction to them is not always the best. I quickly degenerate into a grumbling bundle of nerves that just thinks everything is shit. Boating sucks, the sea state is horrible, waves are the worst, fuck sailing in particular, all is crap.

Change in mindset

Just as quickly my mindset can change in the other direction. It only has to be a shooting star crossing the sky at night or a fish jumping out of the water during the day and I’m completely zen. And it’s been like this for more than two years now. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. The constant swings can be exhausting. I feel that I’m exhausted a lot. Not physically, but mentally.

Next stop – Isla Isabela

All of us were exhausted after our trip from La Paz, not only me. The fact that I also slit my hand the next morning only helped to a limited extent. But what the heck – show must go on, after all we wanted to arrive in Panama at some point, so we started the passage planning. The next stop was going to be a very special one, one that was highly praised by every single visitor. Isla Isabela.

Yet another nightly passage

Located almost 85 nautical miles southeast of Mazatlán, it is a breeding ground for hundreds of thousands of seabirds. There were hymns of praise for the place from all sailors who have visited. But what was the name of the visit? A passage overnight. Argh. It takes almost 17 hours to reach the island from Mazatlàn. The skippers and crew almost went crazy with anticipation. Not. But we had no choice.

Next stop – not Isla Isabela

While on the phone with my parents I was just about to announce our departure while Pati was checking the oil on Burrito in the engine room. She came back with a sober expression on her face. “We’re not going anywhere” she said. We had oil dilution. What that means is that an unfamiliar substance has found its way into our oil. In most cases, this is diesel or cooling water. Departure cancelled. There are many causes for oil dilution, one of them being a leaking cylinder head gasket, which would involve a lot of time and work. We really hoped it wasn’t the gasket because we wanted moooooove. But the cause was quickly found: we had diesel in our oil, because our BRANDNEW lift pump broke. Now we also knew why the engine didn’t want to start during the crossing. After our ordeal back in Peñasco, at least we knew what we had to do.

Pulling our hair

It was just horrid. After months of our engine purring wonderfully, our confidence in it was back to zero within a few days. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. The pump was quickly bypassed with a piece of diesel hose with a suitable connection that we still had aboard. And with the addition of a small electric diesel pump, we were able to temporarily fix the problem. After an oil change and a 3-hour test run of the engine to see if it worked, we were able to start our journey towards Isla Isabela with a day of delay.

On the way in the dark

The crossing went smoothly. We set out in daylight and a good wind, set the sails and had fantastic weather. The waves were moderate, the wind was steady at around 15 knots. Just like Milagros and we like it. Unfortunately, all the fun was over in the evening and Burrito had to go to work. This time he started up smoothly and moved us through the night to the southeast. The most exciting thing that happened? We moved passed a sailboat that was sitting completely still with its sails set and flapping, and we passed the buoy of a fishing net way too close for comfort. Those kinds of threats are simply invisible in the dark. So much for night time passages and giving up control.

There she is – Isla Isabela

At the crack of dawn and with the first light of day, Isla Isabela National Park appeared. And wow, we weren’t promised too much beforehand. The place is often called «the Galapagos of Mexico». The sky was full of frigatebirds, blue boobies, pelicans and many other bird species. They circled overhead over and around the island in the warm morning light, and their “talks” could be heard loudly from the shore. Unfortunately, we had already seen from afar the many anchor lights that lined the island.

Easy Come Easy Go

It quickly became clear that a stay would not work out. We wanted to make ourselves comfortable on the east end of the island. The closer we got to the island, the more anchor lights from other boats appeared along the shores of the rocky island. At the east end, three boats were already gently rocking over the sandbank that would have been our target anchorage. We still tried to find a spot, tough. However, we didn’t feel 100% comfortable dropping our anchor ultra-close (by our standards at least) next to another vessel in 12 meters of water with no idea of what to expect of the seabed. So, we called off “Operation Visit Isla Isabela”. But not without a little sightseeing tour around the island.

Safety first

In the main bay at the southern end of the island, which is known for its rocky bottom with only small sandbanks, there were a mere 8 boats at anchor. Maybe all the anchors had found sandy bottom, maybe they had found boulders. Who knows? But we didn’t want to anchor there anyway, we’ve heard too many stories of snagged, broken, fouled and lost anchor gear. So, we embarked on a leisurely cruise around the island and are now even more interested in visiting it. Then we turned back to the southeast and thus to the bay of Chacala.

And then I stabbed myself again

And guess what happened on the way there: I stabbed my wrist with a knife. Great, right? I did that when I wanted to kill a fish that we had caught on the way. The big unlucky animal that bit the rubber squid was a beautiful Pacific Crevalle Jack. The other big unlucky animal who now had two holes on the same arm was me. It wasn’t deep or big, but I must have pricked a tendon. Now I couldn’t use my right hand anymore at all and Pati had to make use of the fish. I was so fed up, you cannot even imagine.

Hello Chacala!

Luckily, we arrived in Chacala soon after. A sandy beach, palm trees, beach bars and the good side of sailing life awaited. However, we also had to be prepared for possible uncomfortable nights. In our navigation program sailors wrote of swell, which could roll undisturbed into the bay. So, it was time for yet another first time: We had to make use of our stern anchor. A stern anchor prevents the boat from turning unfavorably in wind and current, possibly putting your boat sideways to incoming waves or getting too close to possible obstacles. With the use of a stern anchor, you can thus move the bow and stern of the boat in the desired direction and prevent the ship from moving around too much. This keeps the ship aligned at the right angle to the waves or keeps it away from dangers in small, sketchy or crowded anchorages.

No problemo!

Said and done. We wrestled our big stern anchor and anchor rode into our dinghy and took the equipment towards the beach. Flo gradually let out line from the stern of Milagros and when we found a suitable position, we dropped the anchor. Everything worked like a charm and soon we were able to enjoy the view comfortably rocking in the cockpit.

Discovering the beauty of Chacala

Chacala is a small village on a beautiful, long, picture-postcard sandy beach lined with many small restaurants. Behind the village, lush greenery borders the hilly landscape. It was very nice to look at and of course we had to see it up close right away. After a quick zoom ashore in our trusted deflatable dinghy we stood barefoot on the beach and sipped on three ice cold margaritas. The next few days we spent with everything that makes life on a sailboat beautiful. Balm for our battered souls.

Finally, greenery!

We were especially looking forward to the vegetation after two years in the desert. So of course, we didn’t miss the opportunity to go for a walk in the forests that surround the cute little town of Chacala. We were accompanied by a friendly doggo, which we quickly christened “Schoggi” (which is swiss German for chocolate), because of its brown coat. She accompanied us all the way up into the forest. We were only stopped by the guard at a pompous entrance to a private property. Back on the boat, we met up with friends from all the boats we knew that were also anchored in Chacala, enjoyed tacos made with the fish we had caught, or walked through the village, where, among other things, I was finally able to have the threads of my knife cut removed at the local health center.

Florian gets the full range

Our good friend and crewmate Flo got the full range of highs and lows on a sailboat. The dark clouds had lifted again and we were sitting on a palm-lined beach, sipping alcoholic beverages of all kinds. Where Flo had recently been seasick burying his head in the toilet, he now buried his feet in the sand. Our idea that we could continue from Chacala to La Cruz only met with limited approval from him. He would rather stay in Chacala a little longer. Enough of the sailing adventures for now. Enough of the constant Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Flo’s conclusion

This is also Flo’s conclusion of his sailing adventure with us on Milagros. Highlights for him were visiting Chacala, meeting other sailors, experiencing bioluminescence, spotting whales and dolphins and being adventurous with friends. On the opposite end of the spectrum are the technical issues we encountered, the moral lows, seasickness and David’s hand accidents – I would say it was a 360° experience for him with all that entails the cruising life. It’s not just summer, sun, sunshine and champagne sailing.

We continue to La Cruz

The time we had together was short and soon we were getting Flo to the early morning bus that was supposed to take him to the Puerto Vallarta airport. We also packed our belongings, raised both our stern and bow anchor and motored comfortably in the direction of La Cruz. At anchor there we had to prepare the ship again for the next visit of two friends from Switzerland.

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Der Beitrag Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. erschien zuerst auf Milagros.