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After finishing the installation of the shingles on the North slope of the roof, and then felting the South, I waited until we had a fairly windy day to set my mind at ease so I would be comfortable enough leaving the Ranch for a few days. Said goodbye to the fully-packed dumpster. DSC03042

Load up and hit the road? Yes, please.
While packing the car, I let Ziggy hop in, as she doesn’t like to be excluded from anything involving a car-ride. Gilligan, you wanna jump in, too? Okay! It was warm, so I left the doors open. Dumb move.
Not much later, where the heck did they go? On a jaunt, of course. Five hours later, they straggle on back home. Manana.

We left reasonably early on a Thursday (because the car was already packed), and got into Puerto Penasco just after a mid-afternoon high tide. We actually had time to sail a bit that day. Conditions were pretty calm, and then became even more so. A nice, lazy time on the Sea of Cortez.
Showing up at Marina Fonatur, I notice that my usual slip is occupied, by none other than Kevin’s 27 foot, twin-keeled sailboat. It’ll be nice to see him after so long. I drove back around and over to the fuel dock and tied off. Walked up the ramp to the office to check in with Milton, and he’s not in, but hey, there’s Jesus.

“Got a slip available?”

“Sure, just this side of Carl’s Sea Ray.” he answers. Excellent.

“Where’s Kevin?” I ask.

“He’s in El Desemboque, and should be back tonight.” Excellent, again.

I drive the boat back around to my new slip, and a young man’s right there to help with the lines. Thank you, sir! Pam and I enjoyed a few tacos for dinner at a place just a block away. Apparently, it’s Spring Break once again, and the taco joint thought maybe there would be enough diners to open for business. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen this place open and catering to anyone. Unfortunately, we were the only patrons. Also unfortunate was that the only cervesa they had was Bud Light. I pronounce it “Blight”. Water, please.

Day 2- Awake just before dawn, I took the dogs up for their morning ablutions, then returned to make the coffee. I messed around some installing the reefing lines and putting things away for the day’s sail. The breeze is just beginning to pick up. Still no Kevin, so I give him a phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Kevin? It’s Tom. Your halyard’s slapping a bit over here.”

“What? What’s going on? Is my boat okay?”

“It’s fine, Kevin. I’m just messin’ with ya’.”

“You dick!” (Yes, I am.)

“Where are you?”

“Two blocks away.” See you in a few minutes, Kevin.

He shows up at the marina and we gabbed for awhile, and he says he’s taking some friends out for a day sail. “We’ll shadow you” I say.

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That’s Kevin on the left. I call him “Ken” sometimes. 😉 So we put out, and conditions are fabulous. A beam reach down along the Los Conchas beach is moving my little boat quite well, outpacing Kevin’s heavier Catalina knockoff by a good margin. I come about, heading out further to sea, then aim back towards an intercept with him again.

All the photos I took of his boat turned out blurred. Sorry, Kevin. After about an hour of cat and mouse, the wind and waves start piping up, and I hove to so I could reef. I’m very glad I put those lines on this morning! Ol’ Kevin just keeps on heading ESE, soon sailing out of sight. Me, I think it’s time to make for port. Things are still picking up around here, and not in a good way.

It was a slog, with Sovereign bashing into 1-plus meter waves, but she handled them darned well. I hove to again outside port to drop sails, and the local rescue boat motored by to check up on us. I gave them the “okay” sign, thanked them, and they sped off to look for others who might possibly need assistance.

So I’m hove to, presenting my beam to the oncoming swells, trying to drop the main with one hand, and holding on for dear life to the mast with the other. I probably should have installed the jack lines too, huh? If I’d fallen overboard at that time, it would have been quite a swim to catch the boat, even when she’s hove to.

Anyhow, I lived. We motored back into our slip and tied off. Whew! The app I use for tracking my sailing, iSailor, or the GPS unit it relies on for position got bumped somehow, rendering that momentous little day sail a bit shorter in mileage than I remember. 36 Feet!

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Oh, well. Maybe someone out there can vouch for me.

What to do with the remainder of the afternoon? Beach! This time we headed out to CEDO, the Center for (E)study of the Deserts and Oceans.

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Some of the beach life we saw:

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The dogs loved it, romping and carousing, and tiring themselves out completely.

Upon returning to the marina, I was relieved to see that Kevin’s boat had made port, safe and sound. Let’s go get dinner.
With all the drunken Spring Breakers around, it was decided that we should walk to the Blue Marlin.

Day 3- Same routine. Dogs, coffee, breakfast. Hey, here comes ol’ Kevin and another man, whom he introduces as Steve, and says he’s looking for a 25 foot sailboat to purchase. Interesting…

Turns out Kevin was just messin’ with me! Turnabout’s fair play, I’ve heard.
Steve has a Westsail 28 he’s looking to sell, after living aboard her for a number of years.

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Nice lookin’ boat, Steve. I’d like a closer look at her sometime.
Conversation then turned to yesterday’s weather, and Kevin had a story to tell regarding his experiences. He had his hands (and cockpit) full. A fair-sized crowd in the cockpit when there’s work to be done can get pretty hectic, and poor Kevin was the only sailor in that crowd. There even might have been a little case of mal-de-mar involved. I understand completely.

Thanks to Linda for the extra information regarding that day’s excitement, and to all of Kevin’s passengers for helping to manage the boat.

All too soon, Steve and Kevin had to shove off. Nice to meet you, Steve. Lemme know when you make a run down to your boat, okay?

The flags at the navy yard were looking about the same as when we’d put out yesterday, and the weather forecast said that the breezes would peak around 1500 hours at 19 kilometers per. I kept the reef lines on. Didn’t need ’em, however, and had a grand six-hour sail. Even got to fly my spinnaker, which I hadn’t seen in a coon’s age. Nice!

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I made darned sure my charting app was working.

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We dropped sails just as the Sun was setting, and headed back to our slip. Dinner was at that same nearby taco joint, and again, we were the only diners in the place.

Day 4- I waited around for the tide to come partway in, about 1100, and drove back over to Safe Marina for haulout. The only hitch in the day was crossing the border with everyone else, about a 45 minute wait.

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Let’s try to time our border crossings a little better next time.

And I’m back at work, again.

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4 Comments

  1. Regarding the passengers on Kevin’s boat: we may not have been sailors, but Kevin got a lot of help on that trip! They helped with the sails, manned the helm almost the whole time -(gave Kevin a huge R n R time ) and ran the ropes for the sails ( sorry for not using sailor lingo). The other side of the story is that Kevin was sick and puking overboard. Did you hear that part of the story? We were all quite cognizant of that! So it was a good thing that he had the help he did. A thank you, might have been more in order.

    • I did not hear of the bout with mal de mar from Kevin. Thanks for the update.

      I’ll amend the blog to reflect your contributions.

        • Anonymous
        • Posted March 25, 2015 at 11:33 am
        • Permalink

        You changed your comment , where you said the passengers were not cognizant as to what was going on – that was part of the reason I replied as I did.
        Linda

      • Yep. I have the power to edit. 🙂 My original comment was, I thought, a fair rewording of what I’d heard from Kevin.

        Do you think I should put it back in?


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