Sailing, cruising, racing…it’s all WORK! (…and I love it!!!)

I seem to be continually amazed at the dogged determination necessary to keep things ship shape aboard Cat2Fold without getting stuck in a location for weeks and weeks. When I arrived in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle on Monday 1/12, I desperately wanted to have new gudgeons made up to replace the ones I “enhanced” this past summer. My rudders were clunking badly because of the hack job done by the backwoods mechanic I used in SE Idaho… (oh wait, that was me). I found a machine shop within walking distance of the anchorage, and after communicating as clearly as I could, what I wanted done, the pieces were ordered and I was told they’d be ready at the same time, next day. I could hardly believe they would be done in 24 hours.Well, my hunch was confirmed as mañana turned into mañana mañana, etc…

In the meantime, I had come up with a fun idea to switch my masts which I had mistakenly raised and installed in the wrong hulls up in San Carlos. Clearly, they worked fine in the hulls they were in, having sailed over 600 miles with it configured as such, but my lines were not falling where/how they should, and I really wanted to have everything perfect aboard Cat2Fold. I talked with Rigo aboard s/v Heavy Metal and told him my idea. Heavy Metal is a 60′ aluminum monohull with a very tall mast. There was a slip available just to the side of him. If I could get Cat2Fold into that slip, I could use his mast as a crane to lift my masts out, lay them on the dock, and re-install them correctly. I could also install my rudders in the relative calm waters of the marina rather than in the swelly anchorage. Plus, there was a dock party planned for Friday night.

So… early Friday morning, driving Cat2Fold like a skid steer, I motored the rudderless vessel into the slip next to Heavy Metal. The clock was ticking. I had ALOT to do before Saturday’s race which was slated to start at noon. First stop was into the Marina office to pay for the slip and make sure that where I parked would be fine. Next, I had to walk over to the Capitania de Puerto’s office and check in with them. This is something I’m technically supposed to do even while staying in the anchorage, but I generally avoid all the checkin/check out BS, and just keep moving often (like nearly everyday).

After checking in, I headed straight up to the machine shop. The gudgeons were ready to go, but the rudder boxes, and some plastic bushings are not ready. I sat in the loud dusty shop for over an hour, then decided I didn’t have time to wait. I took the gudgeons with me, and made plans with Jorge to drive the rudder boxes down to my slip. I got the gudgeons successfully mounted to the boat, and simultaneously learned that Goop brand marine sealant does indeed seal and cure below the water line. COOL! The whole time I was doing this work, there was no sign of any life aboard Heavy Metal. Our plan was tentative, and I didn’t want to be TOO much of a bother, so I waited for them to arrive before dropping my sails and booms to the deck to free up the masts and allow them to be lifted out of place. While waiting, Jorge showed up with the rudder boxes I needed to continue the rudder re-install. Not 5 minutes later, I could hear Rigo yelling over to me, asking if I was ready to do the masts.

By now, it is mid afternoon, with a dock party planned for early evening, and it is HOT!!! The clock was ticking. As I stripped my rigs of sails and booms, Rigo hoisted his huge spinnaker pole which allowed us to span over the finger dock separating the two boats, allowing a nice vertical lift hoist. We had to move Heavy Metal a bit closer to Cat2fold, and the first mast came out with a bit of hesitation and adjustments made on the fly. After laying it down on the dock, I backed the boat out of the slip, did a 180, and backed back into the slip (remember, I still have no rudders)… The second mast came out much easier. We laid it down on the dock, and grabbed the first mast. It was reinstalled without a hitch. Now people were starting to gather and ogle at not only the freak boat, but the freak show of mast removal and re-install using another boat as a crane. I motored out again and flipped another 180, and came back in. The crew was getting distracted by the party that was clearly starting and I heard talk of leaving the last mast to be re-installed the next morning. I wasn’t having any part of that business. Too many manana’s already fizzled by. So, we got the last mast up and in. SUCCESS!!! My only regret was to not have found someone to film the whole circus show.

The party was a huge success! I’m guessing there were nearly 70 people there. Food, drink, and friends, new and old. What more could a salty single hander ask for! I ducked out for a good FaceTime call with my kids, then continued to party well into the wee hours of the morning. I had planned another FaceTime call with Beo for early in the morning, but low and behold, the internet was down… again. Oh well, sorry B-boy!

I still had a lot of work to do before I could even think of leaving the dock. It took me several hours to install all the components of the rudders, complete the re-rigging of my sails and booms, check out with the marina, and get under way. With the race slated to start at 12:45, I was hurriedly underway by noon, with 5.5 miles to motor sail to get to the start line. Cutting it a bit close! But, thanks to the race commodore, the race was delayed a bit due to “fluky winds” and I was able to get into the race cue at the 5 minute warning. With no clock on board set up with a second hand, I had to guess when the exact start was happening, but even while incredibly hung over, single handing, and everything working against me, I nailed the start (well, it was one of my better starts anyway). I cracked open the big drifter sail and rocketed out towards the windward mark. I timed my tack perfectly, and with only one tack, I was the first boat to reach the mark. YAY! I didn’t stay at the pointy end of the fleet for long, with the 50’+ race boats closing down on me with HUGE spinnakers flying, but after I made some adjustments to my sail wardrobe, I caught and passed a few boats that had passed me on  the downwind leg while reaching back to the first mark. Even with my old worn out sails, after adding a extra line along the foot of my sails (recommendation from Chris White) to help get more sail shape in the bottom 1/3 of my sails, Cat2Fold felt like she had lots of horsepower, and we were sailing fast. I played a little guitar, smoked, drank beer, and giggled as boats with crews of 10-15 people struggled to pass me.

As much work as sailing/cruising/racing can be, I absolutely LOVE this life, and feel like I was born and raised to to be the perfect candidate to be out here doing what I’m doing aboard the most AWESOMEST boat in Mexico!

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The LONG road south.

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“Ouch!” I think to myself as my feet nearly burn from the heat of the deck. I’m also traipsing around out here with nothing on but a smile. 😄
However, it’s been a hard earned heat. You see, I didn’t just jump in a jumbo jet, waking up in exotic, tropical vacationland, pasty white, ready to get my party tan on. I left snowy cold Idaho three weeks ago. It was a last second escape as the grips of a ferocious winter storm was approaching, threatening to delay our departure with snow totals being forecast in feet and winds blowing in the 30’s.

After our narrow escape, but not before spending several days in Tucson, Arizona dealing with the inevitable truck and trailer gremlins, C2F and I crossed the Mexican border on Christmas Day, and continued south to San Carlos without delay. Even after spending a week preparing the boat (and myself), we were still seeing temps in the 30’s at night with highs of 68 during the day. Brrrrr.

As I pryed myself away from the friendly cruising community whom either stay or were stalling in San Carlos, I found myself wearing every stitch of cold weather clothing I had as we sailed out of Bahia San Carlos for the last time until we return in May or June. With the damp, dark, ocean breeze making the 37 degrees feel incredibly cold, I was wearing the same exact outfit I would have been wearing skiing in the Tetons on a cold smoke powder day.

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The forecast called for NNW winds in the teens with gusts up to 22, mellowing as darkness fell. With a strong desire to get to the warmer weather and water, I left San Carlos at O-dark-thirty. I motored out of the narrow canyon defining Bahia San Carlos for about thirty minutes. Then with the wind filling in, I silenced my twin egg beaters, and marveled in the magic of traveling at the speed of silence. A downwind sled ride south for hundreds and hundreds of miles…

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Every year, after a 6 month absence from sailing Cat2Fold, I’m reminded of a feeling I would have in the early part of nearly every ski season past…
Finding myself peering down a STEEP, cliff riddled backcountry chute, usually amidst much stronger skiers, I would inevitably be silently wondering if my body remembered what it would need to do to enjoyably and safely, set fear aside momentarily, and jump in with both feet facing the fall line. Never as smooth or polished as later season runs, sailing Cat2Fold, especially in puffier conditions with burly seas, brings about a similar feeling of anxiety. At some point, ready or not, I jump in.

So there I was, jumping in with both feet, sailing away from my truck and camper and the comfort of land and friends. Knowing that whatever I had forgotten, I’d have to do without, or if small enough, I could purchase it when it comes available. Throughout the day, the wind would build, then drop. I found myself reefing, unreefing, furling, unfurling, hoisting, and dropping all my sails repeatedly, just as readily as I was doing with my clothes, depending on temps, shading, and wind angle. With not much else going on, I was happy to have the practice, remembering my exact techniques for reefing this unique twin masted cat with daylight as my ally. At one point, during the sail exchange party, I too hastily hooked one of my spinny halyards up, and part way up the hoist, I watched it unhook itself from the head of the sail. I acted a fast as possible, grabbing the boat hook and extending it to full length, but it was to no avail. The halyard slipped all the way up to the top of the mast. With light conditions prevailing, I decided it would be fun to video myself climbing the mast while underway to retrieve said halyard.

I don’t have a fancy mast climbing apparatus, and with only myself onboard, there was no one to hook onto to the main halyard and simply winch them up. So with a climbing harness and two small loops of line, I prussic hitched my way 3/4 of the way up. Nice view, but it is an incredibly hard and painful way to go up, and down the mast. I couldn’t hook the ten foot long boat hook onto the halyard end, my cojones were turned to jelly, and I was already totally pumped, so I aborted mission. I’ll just have to get help from someone when the help is available.

With evening approaching, and the wind holding a steady 15, I was enjoying speeds approaching 10 knots with surfs accelerating us up to the wind speed. I decided to pass a potential anchorage that was 50 miles south of San Carlos, and sail through the evening. Unfortunately, the wind increased through the night, which also increased the size of the seas we were surfing down. Cruising downhill at 15 knots is all fine and dandy in broad daylight with a fresh mind and rested body, but add darkness, exhaustion, and having no one there to share the thrill/burden with and a different story can unfold. All it takes is one mistaken light seen on the water, one whale blow TOO close to the boat, one creeking or crackIng sound too many, and the thrill of 10-15 knots can go instantly from “FUCK YEAH!!!”, to “HOLY FUCK!!!”
I found myself using the triple reef position of both mains for the first time ever. Things felt better…for awhile. Slowly, but surely, Cat2Fold and I were getting WORKED! Not long after midnight, about 20 hours into this first outing, I decided enough was enough, and dropped all sail with the thought of getting some much needed sleep. Ufortunately, it was blowing 25+ knots, and we were still cruising between 6-9 knots, which is great for making progress, but too fast to just go to sleep. So I set a twenty minute timer, and did the best I could to squeeze in some sleep during that time before needing to get up for a look around.
At sunrise, I mustered the energy to lift some sail to increase our speed and control. Again, triple reefed mains. I was tired, but confident that the wind was going to have to lighten soon. Every forecast I had was for MUCH lighter conditions than I was experiencing. I was planning on sailing the remaining 60 miles to the entrance to the 13 mile long channel up and in to Topolobampo. There I would be able to really get some rest, for as long as necessary.

Even though I felt as though I was being tested, and barely passing, a few moments later I learned that the Great Weirdness (Source, Jah, God, etc…) hadn’t even started the real test.When the usual orchestra of creaking and cracking sounds that are inevitable on a folding catamaran such that Cat2Fold is, added a LOUD BANGING to the percussion section, my true “test” was starting to unveil itself…

I wasn’t sure where it was coming from or what it was. At first I thought I had maybe hooked onto some sort of fishing gear that would swing up and smack into the bottom of the hull. After an agonizingly long two or three minutes of searching, I found the source of the sound which was quickly overtaken in volume by my adrenalin spiked heartbeat…

There are two main structural beams on most open bridgedeck catamarans that create the acres of flat living (camping) area envied by all but the staunchest of monohullers. On Cat2Fold, said beams are highly engineered, scissoring carbon fiber works of art. They are connected to the hulls with a 4″ diameter, 1/2″ thick walled, 2′ long stainless steel pipe that allows the pivoting action in order to fold the boat for trailering. Due to a lack of any sort of maintenance manual accompanying this one of a kind prototype vessel, I didn’t even know to look into this area for signs of what happened…
Through the course of the last 30 hours of sailing, (and honestly, it may have started the year before), the huge pipe worked its way 4-5″ up above where it was supposed to be. The beam to hull connection, one of only four that keep the boat held together was starting to fail.

Staying amazingly calm while acting as quickly as I possibly could, i dropped all sail. I collected whatever lengths of heavy line I had on board with an assortment of turning blocks to try and lash the two hulls together as best as I could before any permanent damage could incur. The seas were still running 6-8 feet and the wind was still blowing 20+ knots. I squeezed my head and upper body between the front beam and the netting forward of that to get a look under the bridgedeck to see what/where I could tie anything to. Hanging upside down in those kind of conditions and not getting seasick was a small miracle in and of itself. I used everything I had, and eventually got the boat to the point where there was nothing more that I could do. I tried hammering the huge pipe back down into position, which became quite clearly, a futile attempt until I could get all the holes to line up perfectly, which was not going to happen out here in the open ocean. Did I mention I was well over 40 miles offshore with 60 miles to go to my closest port? Even motoring at full speed, that is nearly 10 adrenaline spiked, emotion filled hours of sitting there trying to stay positive.
For the first time ever in my over 10,000 miles of sailing, I prepared my dinghy as a life raft. With my ditch kit (PLB, handheld GPS, handheld VHF, batteries, flares), three gallons of water, some clothes, and computers passport, wallet, all strapped onto the dinghy, I crumpled onto the back bench, a broken man and had myself a cry. If I could just get the stricken vessel into port safely, I could either make repairs there, or at least, bus up to my truck and trailer, and come sadly retrieve the once proud multihull.

By late afternoon, I was tied to the dock at the only marina in Topolobampo. This is a powerboat place. I was the only boat with masts there, which weren’t any taller than some of the powerboats there. None of the guys on the dock spoke any english, but they all wanted to help however they could. I came up with the idea of finding a length of threaded rod and some huge washers to try and press the stainless pipe back down into position, however it was Sunday afternoon, and I was completely, and utterly drained. Sleep, and lots of it is what I needed most.

The next morning, the marina manager had a piece of threaded rod for me, and he drove me over to a hardware store for nuts and to look for something to use as the large washers. We ended up going to a local metal shop (small town Mexican styley), where I had them make me 4 pieces of 1/4″ thick x 5″ x 1.5″ pieces of steel. Finding anything stainless was going to be damn near useless, so I will end up with a rusty mess over the course of this winter, but if they can do the job of pressing, and keeping the stainless pipe in place, than it will be a success. I spent most of the afternoon pressing and hammering and getting jiggy with aligning the holes between the beam and the hull, but by evening my spirits were soaring with a fix I felt 1000% OK with. The next day I removed the lower foot of an outboard and replaced the water pump impeller (making damn sure to not drop anything in the 30′ deep water), adjusted my fussy shift linkage perfectly, repaired a torn sail, started fixing the rudder “repair” I had done this summer, retrieved my halyard from up the mast, re-routed a bilge pump hose, did some more provisioning, had a great phone call with my kids, and had myself ready for an early morning departure. There was still a LONG way to go before reaching the air and water temps that I initially set sail in search of.

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I hadn’t done any blog updates since arriving in San Carlos, and I started this one yesterday morning after leaving Isla Isabel. I’m now in Punta de Mita. I’ve sailed nearly 600 miles in 5 days. The water is 77 degrees, and I need to finish this post so I can go out and enjoy the water.
Estamos Aqui. Enjoy!

The Long Road Home

As the winter sailing season in Mexico draws closer and closer to an end, Cat2Fold finds herself sailing north, towards San Carlos, SON., and as usual, Brian finds himself wondering whether Cat2Fold should follow the truck home to Idaho or spend her third summer season in a row stored at Ed and Dorothy’s Storage Yard. I couldn’t really make a final decision until I tried towing the boat a few miles with the camper on the truck, which I had never done before.

Alexa and I cleaned the boat and we made final preparations to go (possibly). We drove the truck/camper/boat trailer combo (which has a 2 foot trailer hitch extension under the over hanging camper) on a test run towards Guaymas. Besides the fact that I was around 70′ long, things seemed to feel fine! My mind was made up! Cat2Fold is coming along for a road trip! After one last second errand in San Carlos, we pointed the long, expensive package of carbon, foam, epoxy, and air North, and hit the road!

In years past, my decision to leave C2F in storage was aided by my insurance carrier. Cat2Fold was covered everywhere we sailed, from Southern California to Zihuatenejo, but under no circumstance would C2F be covered for over the road travel within Mexico. Leaving her here in storage for $50 a month, while I went home to work seemed like a no brainer…until I got the more than doubled bill for the following years coverage. Why? Because my boat was no longer within the safety of good ole Idaho. It was in SCARY Mexico!!! No worries, I dropped all insurance for Cat2Fold, except for the Mexican Liability insurance which everyone needs to play this game (sailing) down there. Now I could sail anywhere I wanted without asking permission and paying extra first! I’m not really an insurance kind of guy anyway. I don’t believe life comes with any guarantees! Believe in the magic of goodwill and trust in yourself!

With all that in mind, I very smartly had the, “hasn’t been towed more than one mile in three years” trailer tuned up while it was still empty. I think I paid Humberto too much, but oh well, we got new bearings, and seals in all 6 wheels, and had the rotors turned and the brakes bled. Virtually good as new!

We made our way North just fine, even passing through Hermosillo without being pulled over. Got searched pretty good at the Mexican Military checkpoint about 20 miles south of the border. All good. I’m always a bit paranoid at the U.S. crossing. You never know how bad they may want to search, and we had ALOT of hard to access areas in which they’d want to look. Turns out they just wanted my potatoes, limes, and package of bacon that were in the camper. I asked them about the tons of food they must get every day (thousands of cars cross the border at Nogales every day) and whether it was donated to to a charity or something…”Nope. Liability.”…Great. Welcome back home to the US of Liabilit-A!!!

After making it through the actual border crossing, there is yet another checkpoint about 20 miles North. With a dog actively paraded up and down through the stopped cars, I can only imagine they are looking for drugs. Maybe illegal immigrants also? Oh, and one other thing to note… the interstate down here south of Tucson has the speed limits marked in KPH, but the mileage between places in miles… UH…OK…

Not far past Tucson, I pulled over to get some fuel. When I got out, I noticed that the right, rear tire of my truck, the one which I plugged myself last fall while in San Carlos, was low. Way low! 25psi when it should’ve had 65psi!!!

Luckily, there was a tire place right nearby! It’s not very easy driving around looking for things in an unfamiliar place while towing C2F… The tire was removed, and patched from the inside. An hour later, and we were on the road again. Sweet! I’m glad I noticed that and nipped it in the bud!

A short while later, I dropped Alexa off at the Phoenix airport and continued on my way alone. I kept driving well into the night, and ended up camping in a perfect, big pull off with trees, up near the North Rim of the grand canyon.

The next day, I drove through the entire state of Utah with nothing very exciting to report. However, later in the evening, just past the Idaho state line, things started to get a little more interesting…

I pulled over to take a leak about 30 miles north of the statetline. I hadn’t even pulled off of the off ramp. Unfortunately, during said nature break, I noticed one of my trailer wheels had fallen off!!! All five lug bolts had entirely sheared off!!! SHIT!! What should I do???

I pulled into the nearby truck stop (the only thing at this exit) which had a mechanic station also. 5:30. Closed. With no cell phone (I haven’t owned one in years now), I stood there mulling over my options when a big rig pulled up next to me.

“Didya loose your wheel?” Says the toothless driver as he leans out his window pointing at the gaping hole on the trailer where a wheel used to reside.

Yup.

“Well, I seen it pass me on the highway! Me and this other tanker truck tried to get a hold of you, but…how we gonna do that, right?” He laughs.

WHOA! You saw it happen?

“Yup I watched it cross over into the other lane, but lucky no one was coming.”…

Turns out, it happened about 50 miles south of where we were right then. With the fact that I hadn’t even noticed the missing wheel for the past 50 miles of 75mph driving, coupled with my strong desire to make it the remaining 150 miles, I decided to push on.  (whoa…it’s starting to sound like a middle school math problem…)

So here I am, CAREFULLY driving along with my 5 wheeled trailer with my beloved boat atop (5 wheels still seems like plenty, no?). I’ve got 60 miles to go and dusk is approaching, and all of a sudden, I hear what sounds like air being released rapidly. I pull over as quickly as possible, which is clearly not quick enough. Any worry of another trailer wheel failing, rapidly faded as I can feel the weight of the truck/camper/boat sitting on top of the now bare rim of the truck as it rolls the last few feet before coming to a stop.

Yup. Tire is ruined!!! $400.

So, I empty the back of the Mega Cab truck (which is stuffed to the gills with tools, bags, coolers, parts, etc…) on the side of the road just to get to the proper lug wrench (ooooh…note to self…keep that wrench handy and check trailer lug nuts occasionally on long trips…). I use the stock, Dodge screw jack to try and lift a VERY HEAVY rear axle. To my surprise it actually seemed to be lifting the truck, until…well, until it stopped lifting the truck! Doesn’t matter, I got it high enough to remove the badly mangled tire/wheel.

I drop the spare and roll it over to install when I realize that I’m not jacked up quite high enough to get the spare on…hmmm… Luckily, I pulled far enough off the road that my passenger side (the flat side) was just barely on the gravel part of the shoulder, and I was able to dig down deep enough to get the spare on the truck.

OK! Spare installed. Truck re packed…Now what? The screw jack won’t screw back down! No worries, I’ll just drive forward off of it. Perfect! Done!

Whoa! As I walk back to retrieve the broken jack, I notice the newly installed spare tire is pretty low. 40 lbs low… I need to go find air!!! I drive into the town of Rigby and find an air machine at this gas station. Problem is, I can’t even begin to pull up close enough to use it. So, I pull into a large parking lot next door (a closed Tire Factory), re-empty the Mega cab so I can get to the air hose that connects to my trucks’ on board air compressor. Yup. My truck has an air compressor installed to pressurize the airsprings that are used to help haul heavy loads. It’s a SMALL compressor though. It took me at least 1/2 an hour of pumping to get the tire to a safe level of pressure.

Re-load the truck. Hit the road.

Darkness fell. I made it the rest of the way home…well, almost. The county road I live off of is not maintained all winter. Some snow had recently fallen adding to the muckiness of the old snow melting into muddy road. With two miles to go to my house, I realized I needed to turn around and leave the boat at the winter parking area for a while still. There was still a formidable pile of snow a mere 50 yards from my house, but since having started my day many hours earlier in Arizona, and being pretty determined to get all the way home, I packed out a trail in the deep, sugary snow by driving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until I woke up the next morning in my very own bed… 🙂

The End.

Sorry for the large amount of words…

 

Alexa

Alexa. Thanks for your help, love, understanding, compassion and patience.

You are a BEAUTIFUL SPIRIT, and the world is a better place with you!!!

We miss you!

 

Bahia Tenacatita

pic from s/v Fluenta... traveling solo, playing guitar

pic from s/v Fluenta…
traveling solo, playing guitar


As I sit here on Cat2Fold watching yet another beautifully moist sunrise, at the surf spot in Bahia Chamela, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest person alive. I have lots of stories I need to catch up on since leaving Banderas Bay in early January…

Heading south with Alexa (whom needs a whole separate story of her own) we caught the tail of a sweet northerly that had us charging south, sailing directly downwind, surfing at speeds up to 12 knots. Unfortunately, the wind didn’t last all night, and by the wee hours of the morning, we found ourselves barely able to coast into Chamela. At sunrise, I did see another sail on the horizon. It was Bob on s/v Pantera. Bob left La Cruz several hours before us, but because of his lack of a motor (we motored about 20 minutes at one point to get into some fresh wind), and C2F’s unique ability to easily sail very deep downwind, we amazingly reached Chamela before him. Bob continued on towards Melaque (very slowly in nearly no wind) while Alexa and I sought the shelter of Isla San Pedro at the SE end of the bay. This is where one of my favorite surf break lies, Xametla. It is a pretty mellow, shallow sand bar break. Sometimes the way the swell wraps around the two tiny islands we are anchored behind, causes breaking waves to come toward the beach at two different angles. Where the waves come together, a large pyramidal, tongue like mound forms that can be quite exhilarating to try and ride! It really is the perfect paddle boarding spot to get ones groove on.
After spending the day surfing, and with Alexa’s time on board rapidly coming to an end, we hurried our way further south. Skipping the beautiful anchorage of Paraiso, and passing by the exclusive Careyes, we sailed another 25 miles south to Bahia Tenacatita.
There’s something about Bahia Tenacatita and the cute little town of La Manzanilla that just feels like home. There are three main anchorages within Tenacatita; the outer most is known as the Aquarium. It is well protected from the predominant winds, and very popular for its superb snorkeling. The beach, from what I understand, used to be a thriving little community of campers, homes, and beachside palapa restaurants. Unfortunately, 4 years ago (the year before I started coming down here), there was a land ownership dispute. Someone claimed older title to all of the peninsula that was the village of Tenacatita, and through the use of force (guns and bulldozers) reclaimed what was perceived to be old family land. Many, many Mexicans, Canadians, and Americans lost homes, businesses, and faith in the Mexican system. Now, the beach lay virtually barren, and even though I anchor quite regularly at the Aquarium, with armed thugs patrolling the area, my desire to step foot on their land is all but nil.
Further in the bay, in the most protected anchorage of them all, a gathering of boats resides through most of the winter months in a community setting unlike any other I’ve ever witnessed throughout all of western Mexico. In Tenacatita (which is what most cruisers now call this anchorage), there are many boats anchored that set there anchor in December, and don’t pull it up again until March/April. There are organized daily events, and once a week the Mayor (yes, there has been a “Mayor” here in the anchorage for over 20 years), hosts what is known as “The Mayor’s Raft-up”.
Every Friday at 5:15pm, the Mayor and his wife, Robert and Virginia, to of the cutest old hippies ever, go to an empty corner of the anchorage, anchor their dinghy, and all the other cruisers, usually couples, dinghy over and tie up to each other. Food to pass around, old books/movies to trade, and stories or music to share are all part of the evenings agenda. I finally made it to a few this year…
Being the “young”, single guy with dreadlocks and sailing a boat that is as non-conformist as it gets, showing up to a conservative, retiree potluck party has never been very high on my list. However, this year more than ever, I’ve started to realize that my story is interesting, and worth sharing. In fact some of these folks in there 60’s and 70’s really get a kick out of meeting young folks out on the water living the dream without a pension, retirement fund, or a plan for the future. Living life with passion, following ones bliss, and trusting that tomorrow will bring more health, happiness, and the necessary means to keep the dream alive, is a skillset in and of itself worthy of sharing with everyone I meet. So, amongst the myriad of retired engineers/pilots/teachers/lawyers/bearucrats/policemen/hippies/doctors/businessmen, I told my story, sang my songs, and otherwise earned my way into the hearts and minds of the more conservative end of the cruising fraternity. I think I left my biggest mark by showing up late to the Valentines day raft-up…only I showed up in Cat2Fold!
With the raft up anchored in about 9-10 feet of water, I did what not many other boats could even dream of doing (as if boats can dream…;)…
I tacked up through the fleet, working my way straight to the raft-up. As I got there, in virtually NO wind, I was able to sail a couple of circles around the group. Every dinghy there had a “couple” aboard and they were all telling the story of how they met. I told my story of meeting Cat2Fold online, falling in love instantly, yet taking over a year to finally commit to a life of adventure with her. I played a love song (Stand by Me) that most would recognize, while steering the boat with my feet. One couple untied there dinghy from the bunch and brought me over some of the food that had been passed around. I continued my evening sail into the sunset to go anchor alone next to a restaurant where I could bask in the sounds of a Cuban jazz band, playing a special Valentines day show.
The other anchorage within Bahia Tenacatita is at the cute little town of La Manzanilla. It is a bit exposed to the dominant weather and swell, but with C2F’s extra wide beam, the rolling is always kept to a minimum, so I stayed there a bunch. I was able to get a WiFi signal on board if I anchored close enough to the beach which was a very nice bonus. The town is filled with aging gringos, so luckily most of the Tiendas cater to the North American visitors. What that really means is one could find real half and half in stock, which can be a very hard to find commodity down in these parts.
Although C2F and I always seem to attract attention wherever we go, no where have I attracted more attention than in La Manzanilla. Every time I paddleboarded to the beach, I was surrounded by throngs of people all asking about the boat and myself. It didn’t stop there either, people were swimming out to C2F to get our story. Eventually, I befriended SO MANY folks, I started taking people out sailing. Something I had dreamed of doing ever since coupling up with C2F, and just as I had imagined, the boat is the PERFECT platform to take guests out on. Whether it was their first time sailing, or they were a ripe old salty dog, the magic carpet ride that C2F provides sailing around the warm, tropical waters of Bahia Tenacatita, had every person who came aboard smiling, claiming “best day EVER”, and going home dreaming of their own life on the high seas.
With or without guests, C2F and I sail nearly every single day. We sailed just about 1000 miles to get here, and then in the past month and a half, we commenced to sail another 800 miles in and around Bahia Tenacatita.
Although I’ll never be one of those types that drops the anchor and stays put for long periods of time, especially in a crowded, community organized anchorage, I have undeniably come to appreciate the warmth, the love, the beauty and the life found within the most unique cruising stopovers in all of Mexico…Viva Bahia Tenacatita!!!

A week of adventure (Escondido+Bahia Salinas+Sailing to San Carlos)!

Whales, Iguanas & Belly Flops