Belated post

These are a couple things I'd written while unable to get on-line. They're a week or two old, but I hope you still find them interesting!

Becalmed and waiting, I feel like a "real sailor" for the first time - dependent upon the weather gods and unwilling to cheat by "raising the iron sail" a euphemism many use for motoring . We left La Paz with the intention of sailing to the mainland, but after the first 40 miles (accomplished in 24 maddeningly slow hours), we decided that it made more sense to pull into one of the last possible anchorages before we were committed to the crossing than it did to slat our way across the Sea of Cortez at less than 2 knots. So, here we are back in Ensenada de Los Muertos, contemplating our options. Floating in a sea of glossy water, the boat is as still as when it's in the slip- seemingly more so because swell is expected but absent. It's been three days now, or four? Hard to say with so little to mark the time. We check the weather forecast, read, lay in the sun, and make meals, clean up and sleep; a tedium mitigated by the comfort of warm weather and forced relaxation.

The plan had been to head 375Nm to San Blas, were there's a good anchorage and good surf (two qualities rarely attributable to a common place). We were going to spend a few weeks there and then make the final preparations for our Pacific crossing in Puerta Vallerta, still shooting for a departure date of roughly April 1. That plan is making less sense as I add up the days remaining between now and then - the winds are projected to pick up tomorrow afternoon which means that the earliest we'd be in San Blas is the 21st or so - that's just about enough time to provision, refill our tanks and finish up the last few projects I'd wanted to do in preparation for a month at sea.

I continue to be surprised at how rushed this all feels. Seeing the world properly by boat would take... a lifetime, I'm pretty sure.

And how much there is to see!

Last night, we heard what sounded like a poorly running diesel and went up on deck to investigate. The sound had no clear origin and seemed to be coming in all directions and when heard from above deck sounded like a thousand hands slapping water, but without the aqueous splash that should accompany that much disturbance of water. I still have no idea what it was, though I'm reasonably sure that it was a very large school of something. (turns out it was a school of rays) The setting was magical - seas flat and calm and grey in the moonlight such that any horizon line was indistinguishable. Strange sounds in a not so strange and not so far away place. It makes me hungry for stranger and more distant shores.

We've been thoroughly enjoying all the gifts sent along with Suzy- snacks, games and books. Thank you all for thinking of us!