Feliz Navidad y Feliz Ano

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!



This photo is from our journey to Beijing, China in August, where all the family was together.

We celebrated Christmas 2008 and New Year's 2009 in La Paz, Baja Sur, Mexico with friends from Alameda, California (Doug and Carla Scott [Moondance] and Steve and Ana Hall [No Worries]) and from Portland, Oregon (Patsy Verhoeven [Talion] and Delphi and Mike Godsil [Trig]). There were lots of parties, excellent food, fireworks, games and fun...all good parts of the celebration. We missed the family...

Downwind Sailing

For some reason, our photographs just do not capture the nature of the sea. You must need a wide-angle lens, or maybe an action shot with sound to catch the full impact of the waves and wind!



Leaving Isla Danzante, we picked up weather and for the next three days enjoyed some serious sailing in a winter "norther" typical of the Sea of Cortez at this time of year. The winds were consistently 15 to 20 knots, and for several hours each day, 20 to 25 with gusts to 30.


The seas pick up wave strength and height as the winds come down the Sea, so by the time we got into Isla San Francisco on Friday, the 19th, we were seeing consistent 5 to 8 foot swells with a few 10-footers thrown in for good measure. Our boat usually goes about 5 knots per hour. At one point, Marv saw the knot meter reading 10.99 as we came down the front face of a big swell. For us, that's fast! We tried to take a picture...but it doesn't look like much! Trust us, we deserved the ibuprofen and sleep when we were successfully at anchor!

Honeymoon Cove

What a lovely spot! A tiny rock-lined cove on Isla Danzante, deep at the entrance then gradually shoaling. There's not a lot of room to swing around on the anchor, so we set a stern anchor in about 5 feet of water and our bow anchor 20 feet deep. Twenty knot winds came up in the night, but we rode them out easily. The rocks along shore provided excellent snorkeling and half-a-dozen porpoises entertained us with their leaping, diving, and tail-slapping antics. The eco-tour ship, National Geographic Seabird, anchored farther out in deep water and shared the entertainment with us.

Los Coronados

Another change we've noticed from last spring...the water is clearer around Los Coronados than it was before! If I remember correctly, we arrived here earlier this year just as the giant red squid were dying...and the water was very cloudy. This time, it was clear enough to see our anchor 15 feet below, comfortably buried in the sandy bottom.

Desert Flowers

One of the advantages of coming into the Sea at the end of the rainy season is enjoying the greenness of it all. Compared to last spring, the hills are covered with a blanket of green...grasses, flowers, new growth on the cacti and shrubs.







The flowers are stunning in their contrast to the rocks and dust. It is still clearly a desert area, so we appreciate the transient beauty of these fragile plants even more.

San Juanico

We left San Carlos on Sunday, December 14, and ended up in Bahia San Juanico the next day. Our "plan" was to go across the Sea. The wind led us to San Juanico, where we slept for a few hours, kayaked into the laguna, and went for a hike to find a geocache and to enjoy the desert flowers.

Geocaching in San Carlos

When you are at a marina for several weeks, there is usually plenty of time to explore the nearby area. Today we hiked the trail to the saddle between the two peaks of Tetakawi, the mountain peaks marking the entrance to San Carlos harbor. The trail starts at Km 15, with a meander through grass along the roadside until you settle on the one that will get you to the top. Then it’s a dry, dusty hike up in a stair-step fashion for half an hour or so, palo verde and cactus abound. The last one-third of the trail is steep and rugged (some Class 3 rock) and you would need equipment to climb the peaks themselves, so we settled for standing on the edge, feeling the exposure of a thousand foot drop to the sea below.




Our hiking companion, Chris from Nada Mas, had a car, so after our quadriceps-jarring descent, he drove us part way into the valley in search of the Cañon de Nacapule. We walked the last kilometer, finding two geocaches on the way, and entered the canyon about mid-afternoon. This time of year, the creek bed that flows through Nacapule is dry, but that only means the rock formations carved by rushing water in the wet season are more visible—and breathtaking. The whole canyon is exquisite—at the entrance, orange rock walls loom on both sides, patterned with swirls of rocks, niches and caves left by the volcanic activity centuries ago. We had no idea what the rocks all meant (where is Kat when you need her!?) but they were amazing. As we walked up the canyon, it became greener, narrower, wetter, and cooler. When it looked like there was no going further, we noticed a knotted rope snaked down a wet wall on our right and Ardy pulled herself up, hand-over-hand, to find that the trail went on, curving off to the left for another half mile or so and balancing itself precariously on ledges above deep, dark pools of water 20 feet below.




The search for our last geocache of the day took us back into San Carlos (we hitched a ride for a couple of miles, walked a couple more) and out past the San Carlos Country Club (yes, there is one, golf course included) to a new development tract and (finally!) Paco’s Hill. This was an open country hike, catching cholla spines on our shoes and carrying grass seed from one spot to another, until we found it on the ridge above the development. By the time we had walked the two miles back to the intersection that would take us to Marina Real, we were ready for a lift, quickly accommodated by a local driver who delivered us directly to our dock.

Hiking in the Gorge

Portland was beautiful. The hike in the Gorge challenging—the Gorge is one of the natural wonders of the world and should be on everyone’s list of “things to do…”



Miles (Grandson #1), here sporting Uncle Malcolm’s hand-knit strawberry cap, charmed everyone, as expected.

Thanksgiving in Portland

Traditions are important parts of the good life. For over thirty years, we have been getting together with friends from Seattle and San Francisco for a long weekend to celebrate Thanksgiving. Each year we would rotate to a different city—Seattle, then Portland, then SF, and back to Seattle. Once, in 1975, we broke bread in Walla Walla, WA. As we have moved around in the past 8 years, the location has changed again, with two years running in the Bay Area, Berkeley included in the mix. New people have joined the group, sometimes a large gathering of many friends who are local, sometimes two or three who come from farther away. Tom Bouye has become part of the family…Thanksgiving wouldn’t be the same without his warm smile and wry humor…not to mention his Scrabble acumen. This year we were fortunate to be welcomed by Dennis Mulvihill and Olivia Clark to their home in Portland. They live in a retro-early 60’s home with space and light that is perfect for a large gathering.




There is a life-cycle to the get-together, with people arriving (Malcolm picks up Philip, Liz, and Miles from the airport; Paul, Linda, and Nick unfold from the car and stretch after their 3 and a half hour drive from Seattle; Megan waits outside the Portland train station after her trip down from Seattle; Marv and Ardy take the MAX in from the airport and the bus down from Lloyd Center to the old Sellwood neighborhood; John and Leslie fly in from SF and settle in downtown); the day’s food preparation (Megan’s cranberry sauce and green beans, Paul’s kugel, Ardy and Malcolm’s pies, Leslie’s dolmas, Tom’s wine, Linda on the gravy and mashed potatoes, and Dennis and Olivia sorting it all out, coordinating work with full grace and hospitality). After dinner, the conversation continues over clean-up, board games, and computers, and computers, and computers.



Friday and Saturday are dedicated to hiking, walking, more games, more eating, more computers, reading and continued conversation. Maybe one or two football games find a place in there, too. People move from one conversation to another, stop to read, take time for a snack, there is lots of catching up to do. Sunday is the day people leave…carrying good wishes, excess calories, and promises to see each other soon—at the very latest, next Thanksgiving.

Under Spinnaker

The winds have been better this fall than last spring...and we have been able to sail more than we did in May and June. Going north from San Carlos, we had 10-15 knots north-northwest winds so we could reach west, then tack back east and keep our boat speed over 5 knots. When we came back to San Carlos, we had a bit lighter north-northwest winds (8-10 knots) and a fine spinnaker run into Bahia Algodones.



Now we are on our way to Portland, Oregon, to spend a week with friends and family for Thanksgiving. The reports of a major cold wave coming down from Alaska and punching a left hook into Northern Oregon and Southern Washington are intimidating, especially since we have little in the way of winter gear with us! We may be spending a good deal of time indoors!

Poso Moreno

“Keep this beach clean. This sea is for everyone. Care for it. We are already living, but the vast majority of people have not even been born yet.”




We put into a little cove, Pozo Moreno (dark well), after a morning of clear skies, calm seas and northwest winds that filled our sails beautifully. We rowed our dinghy in, past a reef lined with pelicans on parade review and onto a shingled shore. Two fishermen were there, working on the motor for their panga (a small, open fishing boat common on the Sea). We asked about places to take a walk. One directed us south, “The road doesn’t go through, you’ll have to come back the same way, but it’s a good walk.”

The road undulated over the hills, graded at some point, but steep enough in spots to be a challenge to any vehicle. The small boulders and scraped rock faces on the inclines would prevent all but those with high suspension and four-wheel drive from getting over. On foot, it was no problem and we had spectacular views of the Sea of Cortez spread out before us, rugged coves below; dusty, cactus-dotted slopes and stark, craggy peaks behind. We passed middens of murex shells. A covey of quail scurried across our path then erupted in a burst of small thunder before resettling in the brush. Far below, just at tide’s edge, the remains of a 60-foot beached whale gave evidence of the Sea’s majestic cycle of life and death.

Bahia San Pedro

We sailed north of Bahia Algodones, enjoying 10 to 15 knot winds from the NNW. Four hours later, we tucked into the little cove of San Pedro, anchoring just inside a shrimp-fishing boat, between the shrimper and shore. It was our first time in Bahia San Pedro, and we had heard stories of insecure holding and anchors dragging. So when the weather forecast said there would be 25+ knot NNW winds during the night, we were on alert.

There was a full moon and it was easy to see the rock wall just to our west, looming very near (it definitely looked nearer at 3:00 AM than it had been at midnight! Do you realize how much BIGGER rock walls look under a full moon than in the light of day!?)

Marv set the anchor alarm to go off if we strayed more than about 200 feet from where we first anchored. With the wind and the boat action, the bridle (a rope attachment that takes pressure off the anchor chain) came loose and we had to let out another 20 feet of chain as we readjusted it. The alarm went off shortly after that, but the wind had shifted to the east and we were now stretched out on our anchor chain in the opposite direction from our original position. We clearly were not dragging anchor, but the rocks WERE closer (our swing took us closer to them) and it was still a bit nerve-wracking.

Bahia Algodones

The beach in Bahia Algodones (Cotton Bay) is named for Catch-22, the 1970 movie based on Joseph Heller’s book of the same title, which was filmed here. Remnants of the structures on the set can be found just off the highway north of Marina Real.


There can be a good bit of surf on Catch-22 Beach and it is easy to get soaked through when coming into shore in the dinghy. That may be why they named the palapa here "The Soggy Peso"?

Odyssey is back in the water

So, we are back in the water and getting set to leave the marina at San Carlos, Sonora. It has been a wonderful summer, visiting friends and family in San Francisco, San Diego, Wisconsin, and Portland. And, of course, Beijing for the Olympics with Philip. Malcolm, Liz, Miles, Marv and Ardy all joined him for the fun.

The staff at Marina Seca San Carlos is efficient, careful, and considerate. Like large beetles, the equipment scurries around the yard from 8:00 AM until 4:00 PM, moving small boats and large; into the work-yard, out to the highway and into the water; out of the water, dripping wet they negotiate the rig with its load down the kilometer or so to dry storage. It is a fascinating operation to watch, especially as the mast cants and sways with the movement.

There is not much to provision with here in San Carlos, so we have gone into Guaymas and shopped at Soriana’s. Still, we will have to wait until we go back to Portland to stock up on walnuts, almonds, and cashews. Fresh fruits and vegetables are hard to find, too, in a desert environment they are largely imported. So we cherish the fresh tomatoes and rich avocadoes.

The Great Wall

Beijing is an amazing, huge, busy, active, changing, evolving maze of people, places, history and growing future. The Olympics were hosted with energy and success. We were lucky to be guests of Liz's friends...comfortable and relaxed...and had a chance to travel to Samatai to walk the Great Wall. Our taxi driver took us to his brother's home nearby where we shared several cups of tea and were given some of the largess from their garden...like people everywhere, the Chinese we met are open and generous, friendly and welcoming. I think having the cutest baby in the world along does help break a great deal of ice!

Beijing

Across the sea

It has been a long time since we "blogged." And we apologize for not keeping things up-to-date.

We are currently in Beijing, China, having arrived on the 13th of August, to watch the Olympic Games...especially our son, Philip, in the 50 kilometer racewalk. For some very interesting reading check out his blogspot: Olympicwalk.blogspot.com


Philip walked yesterday morning (the 22nd) and did very well...he finished 39th out of a field of 62 starters, in a time of 4:08:32. It wasn't his best time ever, but about what he expected and hoped to do. And he impressed everyone with his consistent consistency! His 2 kilometer laps were 9:54, 9:56, 9:58, 9:54, 9:54, 10:00, 10:02, 9:55...etc. It was a hot morning, temperatures in the high 80's-low 90's, but it had rained well the day before and the humidity was relatively low (30%) and there was a slight breeze, so the heat did not do him in. Pollution was also not a factor, since it had rained and cleared the air well. In fact, we have had almost all "blue sky days" since we arrived in Beijing.

We can only hope that the Chinese will insist on keeping the air this clean after the Olympics are over. There is likely to be pressure to that effect, but how to do so is another question...so many cars! And Beijing is an IMMENSE city! We are overwhelmed by its size and all the development that is going on here.

We have been doing some touristy things...our other son, Malcolm, and I went to the Badaling Great Wall this week. This is a close-to-Beijing tourist site, and it was crowded with (mostly) Chinese tourists, but still an incredible experience. We hiked a couple of kilometers, climbing stairs that were >60 degrees incline. I still have sore quadriceps as testament to my efforts. Later this week, Philip, Liz (Philip's wife), Miles (number 1 grandson), Marv, and I plan to go to another Great Wall area and hike about 10 kilometers.

Our time here has gone by fast. Having a baby in the group changes the dynamics a lot. We get late starts. Miles is usually up by 6:00AM, then ready for a nap about 8:30, so we often don't get out of the house until 10:30 or so...if we have an event we want to go to earlier, he comes along, toted in the back-pack...sometimes he falls asleep, sometimes not. Even though seriously sleep-deprived, he has been an incredible traveler, though last night he truly "lost it." A melt-down of major proportions, he cried and howled and berated us in true baby-fashion...why wouldn't we let him sleep???!!! Malcolm, Philip, Marv, and I left Liz with him and went off to the New Balance Hospitality House. Liz says he fell asleep 5 minutes after we left...and slept for 12 hours. Good little boy!

Another dynamic is that he is a blonde, grey-eyed, American infant. Can you image what the Chinese think of him? One of the hundreds of people who went "ga-ga" over him, said "He draws the wind to him"...meaning that he attracts much attention. Chinese, though a difficult language to master and somewhat "harsh" sounding in its articulation, has a poetic quality in its meaning. We are pleased that Liz speaks it well, since it would be so hard to get around without it. And her being able to communicate with others makes our encounters much more meaningful. Otherwise we feel like idiots.

Truly.

Well...it is getting late. We are at the Hometown Hopefuls Hospitality House, using their computers and enjoying their wine...but it is time to head home. Malcolm left today (he starts work on Monday) and Philip will move out of the Olympic Village and in with us on Monday. We are staying in an apartment that belongs to a friend/former coworker of Liz's...

Life is good.

Take care everyone...our love to all of you. We will write more when we get back to the States later in the month.

On the hard

Nearly seven months and 3500 sea miles after leaving San Francisco Bay, we put Odyssey in dry storage for the summer. Our insurance requires us to have the boat above 37 degrees latitude and in dry dock for several months during hurricane season. The past few weeks in Mexico have given us a little taste of the hot weather to come, and we gladly set our sights on cooler climates of Wisconsin, California, and Oregon for a short time.

Marina Seca San Carlos, Sonora, has an elaborate system of removing craft from the water without a hoist, transporting it to the dry storage area, and positioning it for stability and safety.

Boat owners have the job of prepping the boat...washing and stowing canvas, lines and sails, plugging through-hulls to keep insects and spiders out, cleaning out food, cupboards and refrigerators, securing halyards and protecting hardware from the wind, rain and dust. It's an extensive process and wears you out! It took us three days, working pretty much non-stop to finish.

Sitting in the shade of a solar panel on the aft deck, our last gesture was to finish off the open bottle of wine, along with some cheese and bread, as a toast to our trip so far.

Boat chores

A Peterson 44 has lots of brightwork.



Marv has gained a reputation on the docks as being someone who "works all the time," and the quality and beauty of the teak on our topsides is a tribute to his efforts. These kind of boat chores help with his tan, too.

Cruisers

There is a complicated interface between local residents and cruisers. John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts (The Sea of Cortez [1941]; The Log From the Sea of Cortez, [1951]) spoke of it from their experiences during their six-week journey collecting invertebrate marine life in the Sea. They reflected on how different the reality of life was for each party, but how, for all people, “it is through struggle and sorrow that [they] are able to participate in one another—the heartlessness of the healthy, well-fed, and unsorrowful person has in it an infinite smugness.”

We have found our interactions to be many things—pleasant, informative, gratifying, confusing, disconcerting, uncomfortable, and curious. Our Spanish improves, poco a poco. In some anchorages, local residents come asking for water, offer to take your garbage for a small fee, or provide fresh fish for “whatever you want to give me.” Everyone is polite, business-like, and straightforward.

Even so, at times, there is an undercurrent of discomfort on both sides…unspoken feelings: "What is a 'fair price'?” “I hate to ask like this...it is beneath me to do it, but you have so much, what can you give me?”

There is much we can give…but the relationship where that which is given and received strengthens all involved is elusive.

We talk with shopkeepers, fishermen, marina staff, and others about their work and lives, listening to their stories, finding out who they are. We answer their questions about what it is like to live at sea, from details of daily life (“Tiene una estufa abordo? Un ventilador? Hace fria afuera?” “Do you have a stove to cook with? A fan? Is it cold?”), to feelings (“No le da miedo estar afuera por la noche?!” “Doesn’t it scare you to be out on the ocean at night?!”).

This sharing of stories of our lives, the very mundane as well as struggles and sorrows, is a first step in participating together.

Historic town

Santa Rosalia was a copper mining town in the 19th century, run by a French company, Campagne du Boleo. The French brought their culture to Mexico…buildings were constructed of wood, the church designed by Gustav Eiffel, the bakery offered French breads.





Today, the primary industry is fishing, a little copper smelting, some tourism. It is a dusty town, one legacy of the mines, and there is much debris in corners and abandoned buildings. Even in the center of town, where shops and restaurants are vibrant and well-stocked, the century-old wooden buildings give an air of gentile dilapidation; it feels a bit like New Orleans’ French Quarter—without the jazz. Santa Rosalia has a very different flavor from other Mexican towns, and it has been good to get to know a little about some of the people who live and work here.

Eiffel Church

Designed by Gustav Eiffel, displayed (and shared a prize for design with the Eiffel Tower) at the 1889 World's Fair in Paris, reconstructed in Belgium, and then shipped to Mexico, the Iglesia de Santa Barbara is a landmark of Santa Rosalia.

Calamari anyone?

For over 100 years, the Santa Rosalia harbor has been sheltered by two immense jetties, leaving it with about a quarter of a mile opening at its entrance. The harbor is a small, closed body of water, and fish cannot be cleaned inside it. So, pescadores gather in a small, open bay just south of the harbor to clean their catch, including squid. The Humboldt squid (or Diablo rojo [red devil]) can be big, up to 40 kilos in weight, 4 to 5 feet in length. We were told that each panga returns with up to a ton of squid aboard; watching one come in with about eight inches of freeboard, we can believe it.









On the night we were out, the pescadores were fishing close to Santa Rosalia. To the northeast, beyond the breakwater, hundreds of lights, a veritable city of lights, bobbed on the horizon. They began returning about 11:00 PM, pulling into the open bay to clean the squid by the light of a single bulb in the stern of the boat. With the squid cleaned, they motored into the harbor and came aground at the wharf where fish are weighed and prepared for transport to one of three local processing plants (two Korean, one Chinese). Fisherman tossed squid into large crates, about 2-by-3-by-4 feet in size, emptying their boats quickly to make room for others. Each panga filled 7-10 crates, which were stacked, weighed, and loaded into waiting trucks. A “buyer” kept track in a notebook of the weight to be credited each fisherman.

We were fortunate to be there the night two biologists from La Paz were in town. They told us they came to Santa Rosalia every 15 days to collect specimens for study at the laboratory in La Paz…how large are the squid, what do they eat, are they males or females, what are the trends from one collection period to another? Samples are collected from other sites as well, giving a snapshot of fish life in the Sea.

Squid fishermen

We're losing sleep here in the marina at Santa Rosalia.







Fishing is a major industry and squid are in season right now. The pangas leave the harbor between 3:00 and 6:00 PM and return anywhere from 11:30 PM to 3:00 AM. They go right by our boat. There at least 200 of them.









And they are fascinating. The other night we got up at midnight to see what they were up to as they came home.