On to Zihuatanejo

HALF WAY TO ZHUATANEJO FROM ACAPULCO, 10 MILES OFFHORE 7 KNOTS OF WIND ON THE NOSE, ONE KNOT CURRENT ON THE NOSE, UNDER SAIL, 4.3 KNOTS

Cindy arrived right on time and I got my ticket changed with no problem. Whether or not there are problems when I use the modified tickets is another matter.

We stopped on the way back from the airport at El Paraíso for lunch and had a really great meal with shrimp, grilled snapper, top notch guacamole and a couple of great margaritas.

Back at the marina we unpacked and spent a couple of hours at the pool getting--get this--chilled!

We left the slip at about 5 and went to the fuel dock to get water, planning to have dinner at the yacht club, but we were all so full from lunch that we just got underway so we could watch the sunset from seaward.

It was a bit lumpy as we motored out past the island guarding Acapulco Bay. We passed the cove where the cliff divers do their show and put up the sails to tack against the wind which was right on our nose. We took a long tack to seaward and then tacked to do the opposite leg. Due to the chop we couldn't go very fast, about 4.2 knots and since there was a one knot current against us we made only 5 miles in 4 hours so we lit off the iron topsail and began motoring directly into the wind and chop. That was it for the night. We continued and by morning it was less lumpy, less windy and we decided to sail. Looks like it will be a beat all of the way. We can hope that the wind either shifts or stops in which case we can make better time.

I don't have to catch the airplane until Thursday so we're not in a rush and it will be no big thing if we're out for a second night so we plan to enjoy the sail and not worry over much about the speed we make.

Last night right after it got dark the huge cruise liner, Celebrity left Acapulco harbor and headed north. At about two miles away she turned directly toward us. Talk about an "Oh, shit!" situation. The behemoth showed no sign of being aware of our position and seemed to be closing at an alarming rate. Finally Phil got on the radio and called them to see if they knew we were there. "Of course," the bridge personnel replied whereupon Phil said "Just how close to us do you plan to come?"

No response but the ship altered course and passed about 500 yards astern of us. It was like being an ant busy with relocating a rubber tree plant and having the Alpha Male Bull Goose big fucking Elephant stomp past you.

Now that the end is near I should examine how I feel about the whole trip.

I consider the whole trip totally positive. A masochist's dream come true--just kidding. I've enjoyed revisiting some of the more sublime moments that come when operating close to nature and have experienced some of the challenges that inevitably occur when trying to coax a people container to travel where required and to do it without injuring the cargo. Learned a little more about diesels, learned a lot more about unimarans and had the opportunity to reestablish an old friendship and make a new friend.

Got to pilot through the Panama Canal, saw several new countries and marinas and met people from each. Learned about how to utilize GPS and radar to best advantage and learned something about their limitations. Added more cruising experience to my resume which may be of value in chartering at a later time. Observed the value and problems with the satellite phone. Got to practice Spanish for the first time in a long time.

Got away from the business for the first time in a very long time and found that it can survive without me also found that whatever diminution in strength and stamina I've experienced over the years, the remainder is plenty to accomplish what is necessary to operate a sail boat in most weather.

I realize that boats and the sea really are a necessary ingredient in my psyche and while I don't need to own the package of trouble and expense that is a sailboat, I do need some contact with that world to stay centered.

I learned that one can get sick of drinking soda pop and eating cookies and potato chips even though they do taste pretty good on a night watch. I learned that I can sleep with my head low on port tack and high on a starboard tack, that traveler's checks are next to useless and Visa is the best way to deal with money in most places. I learned how to tie a prussic knot from John as well as a sheet bend. Learned that handiwipes are an important thing to have on board from Mark and also learned that it is unwise to take the helm if a seasick candidate is sitting on the windward side of the cockpit--move them before taking the wheel and give them instruction in aerodynamics. (PS don't assume that pilots grasp this aspect of aerodynamics)

I found out how much I miss Jana and how much of my life depends on her companionship. Discovered that my life is not significantly diminished by the absence of cats.

I can live without daily television although a mock up remote would probably act as a pacifier for helping with withdrawal.

I've confirmed that it is a firm law of nature that no matter how much you try to reduce your choice of clothing to take on a trip, you will always take at least three times what is really needed, and if you have a warm garment and you are somewhere that gets really cold like a movie theater, you will not have that garment with you and you will freeze your ass off. If you see a movie you will either have seen it before or it will be in Spanish with English subtitles.

4/30,MIDNIGHT, 3 MILES FROM ZIHUATANEJO, DRIFTING

The afternoon was uneventful with our usual west wind coming up at about 13 knots. It was an easy sail for several hours with only the attack of the bees to remark on.

It seems amazing that bees would venture 4 or 5 miles offshore against the wind. Venture they did, however and a lot of them zeroed in on Misty as their target. We had several buzzing around much of the time. This wasn't much different than a couple of other times except this time it became a happening. Cindy seemed quite bigoted against bees and so war was declared. The rules of engagement, however were not as clear as they might be. Phil and I would do battle by stomping squishing, slapping or just shooing while Cindy's preferred mode of combat was a flyswatter. The swatter was used not to swat but to scoop and throw. The throwing part seemed to revitalize the bees after their long flight over water and so they became more alert to the presence of adversaries. One snuck under my thigh and implanted his stinger and another that had evidently crawled into my navel for warmth and comfort decided to leave me a similar stinging rebuke for partaking in the war. Mercifully our course took us far enough offshore that even these robust insects could not reach us.

Now we are adrift a few miles offshore from Zihuatanejo awaiting dawn to enter the harbor. Our charts are a little skimpy for this spot so rather than feel our way in in the dark we decided to hang out so to speak.

The gibbous moon in the last days of its third quarter came up about 12:30 and now hangs above the horizon casting a very pale yellow light that is very pretty but not really of any use to us.

Phil retired for a snooze and Cindy is sleeping on the lazarette in the cockpit. I am sitting on the other lazarette facing the lights of shore several miles away with the moon over my right shoulder. I have a reading light clipped to my t-shirt's collar and have the word processor in my lap.

The boat orients itself sideways to the swell when it is not moving and the sails are not up so the boat rocks with the passage of each wave. The rocking causes the boom to swing back and forth with a rhythmic creaking and the water slaps the side of the boat. The only other sounds are the rattling of the halyards, a raspy snore from below that signals Phil's horizontal position and a ladylike nasal buzz from Cindy.

From time to time I check the lighted display of the GPS to see if we have drifted in an unwanted direction. We are drifting slowly with the slight offshore breeze but that seems to be about all. Since stopping about an hour ago we have drifted about half a mile in a southerly direction which is to say in a safe direction.

Phil has a night vision monocular that he broke out this evening. I just tried it out. It does enhance the available light and I was able to see the watermelon sitting on the table in front of me pretty well. It made the melon look green, though, so I don't imagine it has much application as an aid to seeing your food in dimly lit restaurants. It does show the lights of shore pretty clearly--all green, of course--but I can see them anyway. Still I suppose there might be some use for it coming in to an anchorage so you could see the other boats that haven't put on their anchor lights. I would normally just use the big spotlight we have, but maybe stealth would be a good idea so no one would wake up and be able to comment the next day on how you screwed up finding an anchorage.

With that done I'm stuck on what to do to pass the time on this watch. I've eaten most of the watermelon, I've played with the new tools, I've contemplated the moon that as I wrote has transformed itself from an interesting weirdly colored lopsided globe to a common garden variety moon that's mostly white and has the usual dippy face on it albeit with lopsidedness dominating the left ear. Because of the haze and the moon's light, the stars are very few indeed so I can't sit in wonderment at the number or brightness of the stars. I could probably fake it, though. Let's see...I lay on my back on the lazarette so I could look directly upward without cricking my neck. The milky way splashed across the sky decorated with brilliant diamonds of white, bluewhite, and red stars. I felt like a shoplifter in a celestial Tiffany's trying to pick what treasure to filch first. ... We'll maybe faking it isn't such a good idea after all.

I'd read but both pair of drugstore glasses I brought have broken arms and so I can only use them when I'm tits up in bed where they will balance on the bridge of my nose without structural support.

LAST DAY ON MISTY, 6:30 PM, ZHUATANEJO

We saw quite a bit today. Had lunch in Z-huat, steak tampiqueno and then took a cab to La Ropa beach for a margarita then to Club Med, which wasn't open for visitors yet, and then to Ixtapa to look around. Ixtapa looks like a pretty classy place, but almost deserted. Suppose it is the season or something. Neat restaurants, a classy marina, many many condos great landscaping etc, etc.

Plan to eat on the boat or to go in for a hamburger in town. I'm spending a lot of time drying out stuff since the beach we land on has some low surf and I keep jumping out of the dingy to stabilize it and end up tits up in the sand. I've got everything hanging out to dry including passport wallet and jock strap.

A local fisherman is cleaning one of his nets a few yards from Misty and is literally surrounded by pelicans waiting for any morsel he cares to toss them. Some of them are impatient enough to take off and go find their own fish but many just wait.

AEROPUERTO, ZIUATANEJO, 10:30 AM

I'm on my way home. Feel really good about it. The timing is perfect.

Phil and Cindy are leaving this afternoon for Manzanillo and Las Hadas resort that I remember as a great place for cruisers. It will be about a 175 miles so I'm guessing it will take two nights. Cindy is very nervous about sailing and constantly is expressing her concern. I think she should have no real problems as Phil is perfectly able to single hand the boat. The trip to Z-huat went well and I did my best to reassure her that all would be well, but she's a bit of a worry wart.

Anyway, I think the next legs of the trip will be a wonderful opportunity for them to enjoy the best of cruising although they may have to back off on the schedule a bit.

I can't really think of any way the trip could have gone better. In spite of all of the problems with the equipment the boat performed well and the interpersonal relationships were great. I believe everyone worked at it and that's why it did work out so well.

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