The last sail...

Altair just did her last sailing for about 6 months. I will put her up in "summer camp" in San Blas for this coming summer (and hurricane season) and leave her to the elements. Then I will fly back to the USA for a little bit while I get ready to go to China!
But here is a little report about the trip with Abe and Katrina. We just got back from Isla Isabella, where I took my Dad when he was down here (so it seems to be a family destination). It is a great place to get bird poop all over your shoes, and there are lots LOTS of birds out there to poop on you. The water was pretty clear, so I was able to go spearfishing every day out there. And I caught a lot of fish! I got two big Amberjacks, a Leopard Grouper, and on the last day, I caught the prize, a Yellowtail. I haven't ever shot a Yellowtail before, so I was very excited to get one. And he was very pretty. Most of the times I got fish, I went around to the other boats and gave them pieces, so I made a lot of friends too!

In the Navy

I finally discovered that I had a video editing program on my computer all along. It is Windows Movie Maker, and it works out pretty well. I made this video today with it.
I'm in San Blas, which is a pretty little town I've been to before, and I am not sure yet, but I may put the boat here for the summertime. Tomorrow I will go to the office and check and see what their prices are. If that is the case, then we (Abe, Katrina, and I) will go out to Isla Isabella for a few days and then return to here.

With Abe and Katrina

I'm sorry that it has been a while since I last posted. I haven't been taking many pictures, and am still recovering from a nasty sickness. I got it from Danny, I think, about two weeks ago, and I am still fighting it off.
So Abe and Katrina came aboard in Manzanillo, and we have traveled north together about 200 miles now, with another 100 to go to Mazatlan. We've seen a lot of whales, and some dolphins and caught a few fish, but I haven't been feeling super well, so I didn't really get my camera out for much. But this is one shot from last night, at Jaltemba, where we anchored next to a little island. This morning I shot a triggerfish and we're going to eat it now.
So presently we are at Chacala, a great little town about 50 miles north of Puerto Vallerta (I think) and we will go to San Blas tomorrow. In San Blas, I hope to talk to the manager of the marina and see if I can get my boat stored there for a nice reasonable fare. San Blas is a nice town, without a large influence of US and Canadian tourism. It is mostly mexican tourists, I guess who go there. Same with Chacala. All the Canadians and US persons go to Puerto Vallerta.
I did some more surfing while I was at Punta Mita again, and it was really good to get on the board again, but it was small surf, so I don't have any spectacular pictures to show of myself trundling through a whale-sized barrel.

Nice day for a Tsunami

If you have seen on the news about the Japanese Earthquake, you will know that there was a Tsunami warning out for most of the pacific. It is still ongoing, I believe, for some places in central and south america. I found out about it this morning while trying to get internet, and (failing to learn much about it, since the connection was slow) promptly panicked.
Since I didn't know how much time I had before a towering wall of water was supposed to arrive, I assumed that I didn't have much time at all, and got my anchor up as quick as I could. Then another cruiser showed his head, and he told me the waves would arrive (if they arrived) At about 1:00, and I had plenty of time. So I took off and sat around on the pacified ocean for most of the day, avoiding the container ships that were all leaving the Port of Manzanillo for deeper water. I had never seen a Tsunami before, and I still have not seen one yet.
Anyways, I am alive, everything is ok on the boat, and as far as I know, there wasn't even a wave here at all.
So an exciting day for me. I'm almost feeling better. Not good, yet. Its like the first step on the stairway to heaven. The trouble is, I am in Hell right now, so I have a long way to go before I get better.

Changing Directions

Danny arrived, we promptly set of for an adventure, and then he started feeling sick. I managed to hold out for a week against the virus, but now it has crept into my body and torn me apart from the inside. I haven't been sick in a long time, and I really don't like it. I feel impatient to do something, but unable to. Walking around the boat isn't easy, and its hot and cold all the time. Hopefully I will get over it before Abe comes along and catches it and then it spoils his trip too.
Danny and I have been sitting in Manzanillo for the last few days, and I'll stay here a few more, I think. In the mean time, I have been working on the boat a little bit (though probably not more until I feel better). I added a double bed to the starboard side, and a back porch. The bed is an elegant addition, I think. There used to be a table that sat down below (in the cabin) and was along the centerline of the boat and to starboard. I moved this table down to match with the bench seat that was on that side, and suddenly I have a nice double bed that I won't fall out of when the boat rocks. Now this may seem like a not-significant event, but it really is great, because I can now use that bed as my sea-berth, my normal underway berth, and as a guest bed (for Abe and Katrina), and then I could use the quarter berth (where I normally have been sleeping on this trip) as a storage space. And, I don't have to set it up every night and take it down in the morning. I lose the table, so I'll have to make a little mini bed-table. But I have these cushions that I don't know what to do with.
I also added a seat on the back of the boat, in the center. I used to sit on that spot before, but now its a real seat, so its better.
I can't post pictures right now because the internet is slow, but I will add them soon.
And I've decided to head north with my brother, then when I drop him off, continue north to Mazatlan or maybe into the Sea of Cortez, and put the boat up on the hard (set it in a yard sitting on the ground with stands holding it up), and leave it for the summer. That means not making it to Costa Rica, at least for a while. Then I'll come back to the USA for a little while and work on getting a visa for China, and fly to Beijing for the summer.
If anyone knows someone who will take care of my boat down here for the summer, I would be glad to work out a deal with them, rather than put it in a marina and pay for it. I need to be out of Mexico by April 17.

Manzanillo

Danny and I arrived in Manzanillo today, and we may not make it much further south. I had been planning on heading to Acapulco, but Danny isn't feeling very well, and there isn't much to see down there anyways. We've been looking for clear water (without success) and fish (without much success) and haven't been diving much because of whatever flu or something that Danny has. So when you fly next, cover your face with a wet towl or something and don't get sick!
We did find some Pelicans, and some turtles.
Hopefully we'll have a bunch of pictures to post later on.
This Mexico trip for me is now turning all sorts of corners. Danny is here now, and my big brother Abe is flying in in a week, and I am going to be trying to figure out how to make the trip down here fantastic, but I am struggling with the coldest water that anyone here has ever seen, and the clarity is not good at all. There is this green murk everywhere. Some places the visibility is 5 ft or less, and the best I have seen in the last two months is about 25 ft. I am really saddened by this. I'm also trying to figure out what to do next. I need to leave Mexico by April 17th, because that is when my visa runs out. I'm not quite done with Mexico, and I could easily spend another few months cruising around, and if I want to cross the Pacific, I should leave now, or a few weeks ago. So while I linger on this coastline, I am burning the time that I could be using in the South Pacific.
So why be in a hurry? I can find a place to haul the boat out and then leave it until the fall, then return to finish this trip and cross the Pacific.
That means that I have to get the storage worked out soon, and I can go visit somewhere else for the summer! And I just got an invitation to go to China...

Tenacatita

I'm in Tenacatita, a little town on the Mexican coast, and it is nice here. There are Crocodiles, there is a nice big beach, and lots of Canadians. Lots. I've met 6 different groups of Canadians here, a few of them have houses that they spend some time of the year here with.
I've traveled from Chamela over the last few days, two of which were in a failed race with Kashmir, another boat, an Islander 30, crewed by two young men who met traveling and then bought the boat together in La Paz. The first day was a strong headwind, with us starting late, and the race was too far for us to make the distance before dark, so we diverted to Paraiso, which was a great place to go. We all went diving, and I ended up shooting a nice big Amberjack that I gave half to a catamaran, then fed Kashmir and myself with the other half. And Amberjacks are a great fish to eat. The next day, we got up early to make the distance in time, and the wind never came up. It was dead all day long, so we abandoned the race about half way. It goes to show me that I'm not supposed to be a racer, I guess. This was the first time I've ever been in a real race, and it failed.
So I got here last evening, and it is a big bay with a few places to go. I am currently in front of a town that I'm not sure the name of, but there is collossal red tide here, it is orange blood in the water all over. If it clears up I will go to the other places and look for fish, or I'll just continue to Barra De Navidad, where it is supposed to be beautiful, and there is a surfing break.

More surfing... sort of

Just to show my big sister that I can surf all sorts of waves, here is some evidence. In fact, I was practicing my tow in surfing on some waves, towing behind a dinghy to get up to speed, and then slingshoting into a wave. The waves were a shorebreak, but it was still fun. Then we towed along the break, and I could dip in and out, and try to jump a little, but that didn't work out too well, they just built up too quickly, so I ended up on the wrong side of a wall, being towed into it. Still, plenty of fun. The water has warmed up a little bit down here, but is still not toasty, hopefully it will get better.

South of Puerto Vallerta

I finally made it south of PV. It is always difficult to go past a place where you can get parts and food, where there are a lot of other cruisers around, and, for the last week, where you can go surfing. I went out to Punta Mita after Dad left, and surfed for about a week, which has improved on my technique some. I've been working on that top turn business, and I have a little dishy motion that gives me a lot of speed to make it past some of the sections on the Punta Mita break. Its a Right, so I have to go front side, which I haven't worked on too much, since I was back side (Left) at Pavones (in Costa Rica) and I haven't really surfed a lot since then.
Anyways, I am now about 90 miles south of PV, in a town called Chamela. It has a nice little point but no surf, and a big sandy beach, so I'll go walking on that tomorrow. There is supposed to be really clear water here, but I haven't found it yet, so I haven't been diving in a long time. And I need to go, to clean off the bottom of the boat.
While I was at Punta Mita, I was surfing in really long sessions, because it is a long paddle to get to the wave from the boat, so I was out there for 4 hours a couple times, and I would meet a fair amount of people. I met these two guys who were from Virgina, and one of them asked me if I was going to watch the Super Bowl. I had no idea when it was, or who was playing, thinking it to be in a week or two, but it was that afternoon! So they let me come over to watch it at their place, and it was nice to watch TV again.
So after that, I went to bed late, but we had arranged to get up early and do a Dawn Patrol the next day. I paddled ashore, to meet up with them, and then we walked the mile trek out to the point, across jagged rocks. As we were wandering along, a dinghy drove by and yelled out something, but I couldn't tell what they were saying, except that it sounded like they had lost a dinghy in the night. I figured it must have been stolen, since everyone knows how to tie knots. So after walking around a while, I got to the point, and lo and behold! There was a dinghy in the surf! Upside down, and hard to see, because it was bumping against rocks, but an inflatable dinghy was out there. So I ran out to it and tried to lift it and flip it over, but it had an outboard motor attached!
So the motor was completely under water for a long time, but I finally got it flipped over, despite the surf and the rocks, and then started pulling a line that had tangled in something further out. I found an anchor on the end of that line, just in the break, and then pulled it up and threw it as far as I could, to pull myself further out. Finally I got the dinghy out of the surf. But now I had to swim back! Anyways, I surfed for a while with it sitting there, until another sailor came by with their dinghy and I told them to go call the owner of this one, so they towed it away and all was well, or all except the motor were well.
Then I picked up my own anchor and went back to PV to get food, and took off for here.
Soon I will go to Barra de Navidad, where it is supposed to be really pretty, and then on to Manzanillo, and onward.

A trip with my Father

So I haven't updated in a couple of weeks, and I am sorry about that, but my father flew in two weeks ago and we immediately went out to the remote parts of the globe in pursuit of fish. Those slippery little buggers are elusive at best, and we were in hot pursuit.
So we went out to Punta Mita (where I went surfing!) and then out to Isla Isabella, where the birds are, and then to San Blas and Chacala, and then slowly back to Punta Mita and now back at Puerto Vallerta.
We caught a few fishes as we went along, but it was the birds that caught our attention the most out on Isabella, of course. They own the island.
Another look at the Frigatebirds was nice for me, as well as the Blue footed Boobies. When we made it to San Blas, I caught three more mystery fishes from there, the pompano/mackerel kind of things. I think they are a kind of Pompano more so than ever, now. And they live in sandy/muddy bottoms about 35 ft deep, very flat, near fresh water. From there we made the short hop to Chacala and spent a few days walking around there, playing in the waves and on the beach. The water was not very clear, however, and the fish were not cooperative (or suicidal).
Then we went to this place I can never remember the name of, and camped out next to this little island just out of town, and the water was Super clear, the best I have seen in a long time. I was overjoyed. There was a single large white cow on the island, housed in the ruins of a restaurant, so maybe it was the meek inheriting... I think a big storm came through a while ago and ruined a lot of these places, so they have yet to recover. After that we went back to Punta Mita and I surfed again, this time with bigger waves and a lower tide, so I was dodging around among the rocks. I didn't fear the rocks as much when I started surfing as I do now. I think it is a leftover from the wreck in Alaska that I had 18 months ago, so I am really hesitant to get near the rocks. But here, eventually (as the tide went down) there was no choice, and on my last wave of the day (and the biggest) I caught this nice head high right that put me driving along right between a couple of these big car sized boulders. The wave gets funny at that point, so I didn't stay with it after, but it was my best ride from this trip.
Then we crossed Bandaras Bay, and went to Yalapa, a small town that is only reachable by boat. It is full of expensive peoples, however, so not the most attractive of all places. But, it does have some nice waterfalls, and river valleys, so I may return on my way out. It is a really rough anchorage, and the beach is super steep. For example, about 200 ft out is about 200 ft deep.
We spent two days there, and explored the waterfalls, but then yesterday we came back to La Cruz, which is the place to anchor near Puerto Vallerta.
We had one final mission, which was to find some tropical hardwoods. In Yalapa we found a carver who was working with a very hard wood, called Rosewood. We tried to get a block to bring home for my dad to carve, but it was proving to be very expensive. So we broke off negotiations after a short stint, and left the area. However, we thought we might be able to track down some kinds of wood in PV, we had a mission. In broken spanish, we asked around and spent the whole day looking around to find this wood place, until we had a final success! Now we have a 70 lb piece of wood that we have to carry around, and somehow get to the airport to be shipped back. I also got some Mahogany that I can now make a second handle for my dodger.
So that's the trip so far. Dad's here for another day and a half, so we'll try to find something to do today, then go to the airport tomorrow. I'm very pleased with my progress of spanish, I was able to hold a bit of a conversation with this guy on the bus, and asking directions was pretty easy.
When we were in Yalapa, up the river, I saw some Black Stilts, which I think are very beautiful. I first saw them in the Monterey Bay area, in Moss Landing, and thought wonderful things of them, despite the man with only one shoe and a cloud of alcohol roaming around him yelling out foul language to me and my comrades in the Odious Whaler. Ahh, the memories a bird can bring.

Bahia Banderas

Following a conversation with my dearest Father, I learned this morning that I am expecting company on Sunday! My dad is coming down to visit, in Puerto Vallerta. So instead of the super liesurely route I was taking, today I booked across the water and am now in Bahia Banderas. The bay of Flags. Within this bay lies Puerto Vallerta, and the upheavals of tourism speckle the hills and beaches all around for miles. The airport is the center of it all, bringing in the blood. Housing developments, private communities, and security guards menace the jungle, trying to keep it away from the golf courses and brickwork.
I arrived at night, and have just put down the anchor to find that I have internet on the boat! This is the one joy I find in all this "progress", that sometimes someone forgets to put a lock on their internet.
Before I left San Blas (a wonderful town, by the way) I saw a One Horse Power outboard engine, as pictured above. You will note the One Horse, powering the boat. It wasn't enough to get the boat up on a plane, but that was probably because there were two people on board and they were driving the boat backwards, for some reason.
The water down here has not been very clear. I was just about to go diving this morning when I checked my email and realized I needed to get a move on, but the water at Chacala (where I was this morning) was only about 15 ft visibility at best. So not much for spearing fish around here I guess. Hopefully it will get better as I go further south. There have been some waves, however, but I haven't managed to get my boards out and surf. There is this nasty NW chop/swell, its about 8-12 seconds apart, and its maybe 3 ft tall, but its surfable, if I could find the right point. Maybe tomorrow morning. I'm about 13 miles away from Puerto Vallerta, so I can get there tomorrow night and everything will be fine to get my dad on sunday.

More Pictures from Isla Isabella

So I am still in San Blas, and I guess I'll be here for a few more days. I had to come into the river entrance, so I am up a creek, you could say. On the way in I came when the tide was low and still going out, so the worst possible time. I bumped the bottom on the way, but a wave picked me up and helped me across the bar, so I am safe. And now that I am safe, it is not so easy to just leave again. I've been wandering around, but there are a fair amount of bugs here, so its not so fun just to walk through the forest getting eaten alive. I've been trying to work on a project, but the one that I can think of (making another spear shaft for the new speargun) is not possible here, since they don't have any straight metal rods.
I'm sitting in the central square, where I can get internet, so I figured I'd post some more pictures from the trip to the islands.
Unlike a lot of the other towns I've been in, there are almost no American tourists here. maybe 20 out of a town of 10,000. Or maybe it is the wrong season.

Isla Isabela

I am in San Blas now, which is a small town (with good surfing supposedly) south of Mazatlan and north of Puerto Vallerta. I arrived yesterday from Isla Isabella, which is a beautiful little island out in the middle of the pacific, filled with birds and fish.


I wrote this out at the island:

I'm at Isla Isabella, where prehistoric creatures creep, flap, and squeal throughout. First, one must beach their craft on a volcanic rocks, surrounded by pounding surf and treacherous waves, and then, into the forest... It consists of mostly a small species of tree, I am not sure the type, but it grows no more than 20 ft high, and is relatively free of underbrush. The trees are filled, and I mean overflowing with, frigatebirds. They screech, flap noisily, and ghost overhead, their long black wings beating like Pteradactyls, soaring over the treetops, and sometimes taking their wings beneath the branches. They can't land too well, so they tend to just flop into a tree somewhere, holding their wings out to keep them from falling through the branches. Some of them have big red pouches, that they fill up with air to attract mates, while others are white headed juveniles. Large iguanas watch quietly as I pass by their relm, unperturbed. As I get to the beach on the far side of the island, I am suddenly walking amongst Blue footed Boobies, which are nesting on the ground. They hiss and clack their bills at me, but will not move from their nest. It is just a small dimple in the ground, with two or maybe three eggs sitting in it. Their beautiful blue feet waddle all over the eggs, but apparently the eggs have tough enough shellls to hold the weight. The beach is jagged rocks, black debris from the volcano that formed this island.

I caught a Almico Jack, or Pacific Amberjack, or Pargo, which is a great tasting fish, almost identical to a Yellowtail, I think. This fish, at first sight, was not too big for me to handle, and since I now have a nice big speargun, I took a shot at it. I got it in the head (where I was aiming) but a little lower than I would have liked, and I am now thinking that I should hit the fish in the body, because I think I've bent my spear. It held stiffly from the head, but I pulled on it to bring the fish to the surface, and that made it bend a little. Anyways, immediately after the shot, the fish was stunned, and I should have gotten my hands in its gills then, but I didn't. So I tried pulling it up a little, but it awoke, and then took off for the bottom, pulling me down with it. It was a strong fish, so I let it go (I have made a float line, attached to the gun) and paid out the line until I got to the surface. Then I began to reel it back in. When I got the fish close, I grabbed it by the gills, but suddenly I realized that this fish was HUGE. It was much bigger than I had first thought, and nearly as wide as my torso. By far the biggest fish I have caught.

I managed to bring it over to a nearby boat, which I had met the people aboard the day before, and then they helped me get it on board, and to eat it.

After two days of visiting Isabella and hiking around with a mexican family (The Montoyas), I feel adopted. It takes so little time to get adopted here and there, and it feels nice. They have me over for dinner (or a late snack) just before they are going to set out northbound to Mazatlan. So it is 10 when I come over to visit, and their boat is rocking and has a fair amount of starboard list to it, making the table drunkenly sway and drop the wine glasses and Tequila on the floor. I sway delightfully on my tall stool, hoping not to pick up the feet too high and tumble into the table. They are speaking in Spanish, quickly, but clearly (amazingly) and I can understand a lot of what is going on, though sometimes they translate for me. They come from Mexico City, and their English is perfect, and their Spanish is enunciated and clear. I am not used to this, but rather the mumble slurs of the fishermen that I meet most of the time. It is beautiful.

They leave at midnight, and the next morning, I am prepared to leave, but a southeast wind holds me back, so I move to the other anchorage and go diving again. The visibility is better, and there is a sandy bottom, but not so clear as I could hope for. I see huge Pacific Jack Trevally, which I don't know if they taste good or not, and two Wahoo. I try to shoot the Wahoo, but my spear lanyard is too short, so I miss. They are the first Wahoo I have ever seen, and they look quite tasty. Hopefully I will see some more. There are tons of fish in the water, and large ones too. Finally I am so pestered by some large Almico Jacks (the Amberjack) that I go to the surface and yell out to the other boats that have arrived if they want some fish. They do. So I shoot another amberjack. This one, I get the spear all the way through, so no bending spearshaft, and it is almost the same size as the one from the day before. I sigh and wonder why these fish turn out to be bigger than I first thought.

I bring one fillet to a catamaran, whom I've seen before in Mazatlan, and the other one (the bigger fillet) to another boat with three people on board. It is too much fish. The Catamaran invites me for dinner, and we eat half of the fillet (three people) and are stuffed.

I have too powerful of a speargun, and the fish here are too big.

On the way in to San Blas, I caught this fish on, and I can't identify it. If you can tell me what it is, please do.

Mazatlan

I made it to Mazatlan last night. All safe and sound. I got in in the evening, so it was three days, and two nights of travel time. It was really peaceful, actually. The weather was gentle, despite being against me the whole time, and there were some nice tropicbirds that followed me around a little bit. Sunsets and sunrises were, of course, wonderful. I took this picture that is a long exposure with me trying to hold the camera still against the boat while it rocks a lot. The light is from my LED nightlights that ward away unwanted boats, and is pretty bright. This shot was about 45 seconds.

I wrote this while underway:

So I've been by myself before, but somehow, I've never felt quite like this. Its 1 in the morning and I am about 60 miles off the coast of Mazatlan, and it is the second night alone at sea for me. Being on the water alone is not a problem, but something special happens during the night at sea; a transformation takes place.

Before this trip, I had been dreading the prospect of going to sea alone for an extended passage. I'd been working my way up to this, but still, it seemed like a steep wall looming ahead. Anchoring at night of course is the easiest option, so you don't have to keep watch, and you just float away hoping that nobody is stupid enough to run into you during the night, and that your anchor will hold. The next step is to sail through the night with another person, and take watches. Try to sleep while hoping that you don't run into anything dangerous, since you can't see. But to go alone, and then have to figure out how to keep watch (which you can't), that is a trick. You have to trust the ocean to behave while you sleep, and then check on things as often as you can. The past day was my first attempt at that, and I'm feeling ok.

The hardest part is to get enough sleep. I've been hearing about people doing 4 hours on and 30 minutes off. I can't do that. So I've been sleeping about 1 hour at a time, then checking things, and taking another nap. Sometimes the naps are shorter than an hour, and I will get up and stay up for about 8 or 10 hours in a row during the day. So I sleep all the time. It makes the days pass quickly, and since there isn't much to do out here anyways, it is a good thing.

I left Cabo San Lucas on Tuesday the 28^th at about 7 am, and drove on eastwards, thinking that I would get to a nice little anchorage that everyone leaves from to do the crossing, but the weather was not helpful, so after a short break in San Jose Del Cabo (where I filled my fuel tank), I decided to stop following the coast and head to sea. It was about 3 pm when I really made the call, and the wind was right on my nose, so I had to aim quite a bit southbound (instead of my desired due east course). After a while I had shifted on to my target, and I managed to sail for 30 hours, up until now. There was a current in the beginning that was against me, and then just in the last 10 hours, I had a good 2 knot current with me (going east) which I don't understand. Since I have only 60 miles to go, and the wind is dead, I am motoring in the hopes of getting in tomorrow during the middle of the day. I really don't mind spending more nights at sea, but there is not use sitting around with this short of a trip left, and I have plenty of fuel.

So I am finally facing my fear of truly single handing, that is, to be alone at sea during the night. And it is not bad at all. In fact, I kind of like it. The night part isn't particularly bad, but the day part is actually quite nice. I wish I was catching more fish, and that I had more books to read, and I will probably write a lot, to give myself something to do, but it is peaceful out here.

As a side note (this is not written at sea, but in the internet cafe in Mazatlan), I am pleased with my Standard Horizon Matrix 2100 AIS radio, which did a good job of telling me that there were cruise boats and container ships trolling around in th waters near me. They passed without trouble.

Towards Mazatlan

I am going to leave Cabo San Lucas tomorrow and head Eastwards, across the mouth of the Sea of Cortez, and on into Mainland Mexico. Christmas was wonderful here, almost like having family here, but I must go onwards.
I'm not sure where I will be for New Years eve, and most likely I will be alone, since I haven't been meeting lots of people, or very easily. Land travelers, which are my age, do not come to sea easily, so there isn't a easy way to meet people.
And I am afraid. Especially after having so much of a connection with people here for so long (5 days), and I am reluctant to leave. But leave I must. The show must go on.
Anyways, I am afraid of being alone. It is a fear that I haven't felt in a while, since when you are alone, you don't feel afraid of it. Like being afraid of life. But taking the plunge into the cold waters of being by myself is difficult, especially if I am warm and dry in the sunshine of the company of the Serbian and Croatians here.
I am also afraid of being alone on New Years. I can't recall if I have ever had a New Years' Kiss. And stupid as I am, I want one. In High School, there was never a chance. In College, I think I had one once with Aleksandra, in 2002-2003 New Years, but I am not quite sure. I don't remember the kiss at any rate.
And since then, Every time that the clock ticks over, I am alone.
It is a moment just like any other, where the clock makes a small click and then the numbers change, but they should be just the same, except for some reason this is a special moment, and I want it to be right.
Tomorrow, when I sail out into the blue, I will feel right with the world again, but in the party town of Cabo San Lucas, where everyone is dancing and looking fabulous, but jealously stealing glances around to see who is looking at them and who is not, I am infected with the desire to HAVE someone. That unhealthy possession feeling.
More healthy is to want to share with people, but this town is so commercial, it makes me feel like I need ownership over things.
Anyways, I am going to Mazatlan, where I might find myself in a similar kind of town, but hopefully I will get to surf and have a nice time in the waves (since here there are none).
The trip will take a few days, so hopefully I'll get in in three days. I'll be sailing through a night alone, and I'm a little nervous about that, but I think I should be fine. I actually like sailing at night, and the only thing is taking short naps through the night and the day, to keep myself alert.
I will try to post something after I get to shore there, to make sure everyone knows I am all right, but don't start to worry until after New Years, because things take time.
Oh, if you are really worried, you can look at the weather on this website.

The Sea

I didn't see very much of it, but there is a feeling I had, now almost lost, but still lingering as a memory, like a dream upon awakening. The Pacific has her own flavor, her texture, that sometimes is so powerful I must run, but hides something intoxicating in her blue depths. The Sea of Cortez does not have this same feeling, but a new one, not feminine, and not quite blue.

Countless small invertebrates swarm at the surface as I drive through the waters. Life is plentiful, and not hidden, but a darkness hides in the deep. A shadow, it seems that begins with the plunge, and smothers me with hungry life as I descend. And it is dark, indeed. The water is not as clear as the dazzling offshore blue of the Pacific, but has a sort of biological smog to it.

When I left the Sea, I had forgotten what it was like to taste the Pacific air, but that is different as well. As I came to the southern point of Baja California, I could feel the air thicken, as the humidity climbed. In the Sea of Cortez the air is very dry. Desert plants dominate the landscape, seemingly sucking the moisture from the wind. Every morning my tongue would be stuck to my mouthtop.

The sun is also different. This is more an effect of my position on the globe, but it strikes with more force now that I have crossed the Tropic of Cancer. I have yet to be directly under the sun, but at the closest I have been, in Costa Rica, the solar furnace seemed so close that when direct light would hit me, I would jump as if the hot hand of God had touched me, and run for the shelter of the pagan palm trees.

There are Coconut Palm trees in the Sea, but they are few; only existing where planted, and they do not produce very tasty coconuts. My journey onward will hopefully include more and tastier coconuts. I didn't eat anything from on shore during this trip, and mostly because the plants of the desert are ill suited for donating any part of their flesh for consumption. They desist, in fact, any attempts to cull their pieces, with violence. Even brushing past them is enough to bring an onslaught of warfare, and it is best to stay out of their reach. I think you can eat Prickly Pears, but I didn't see to many of them, and I wonder if you can eat Saguaros, but I don't know anything about them. There is not much animal life to speak of on the land, in stark contrast to the water.

Still, the stay in the darkend squirming waters was very pleasant. I would like to go back and spend more time there, and see some things again. It is a good place to spend a lot of time.

But, I fear, it is also a place you must leave, because time travels swiftly there, and for one to live their life in the sea, that life would seem short in retrospect. I spent almost two months, but I feel like a week has passed.