Underway from Barrillas to Huatulco Mexico via Gulf of TehuantepecOFF THE COAST OF GUATEMALA, 4/21 SUNDAY, 10 AM We're gliding over the Gulf of Tehuantepec at 7.2 knots with virtually flat seas. We're flying the mainsail and the Gennaker. The Gennaker is much like a Spinnaker but is rigged slightly differently. The wind is on our quarter at about 17 knots which is ideal for this course and sail pattern. It really is fun. The boat is vertical and very stable, there's plenty of shade, there's watermelon chilled from the refer and all is well. Just before rigging the Gennaker we hove to and took a swim hanging on to a rope trailing the boat. The boat's speed under those conditions is about a half a knot so it was really fine. I guess the water temperature is about 84 degrees. The air temperature is about the same so in the shade it is very pleasant. If the present conditions could stay the same, we'd be in heaven. Lunch today is toasted cheese sandwiches, watermelon, clam chowder. Instead of taking in a notch in my belt after this cruise I think I'll have to get a new, larger belt. GULF OF TEHUANTEPEC, 4/22, 10 AM Third day sailing continuously, engine quit. We had had a great day sailing and were settled in for the night motoring at about 6 knots. Changing fuel filters means me completely emptying my sleeping compartment of clothes, cushions suitcase, plywood decking and finding someplace to put it. Phil then goes in on his belly with tools and filter and after tucking his knees up behind his ears begins to curse and sweat--both copiously. Soon the compartment reaches about 110 degrees due to the proximity of the engine and the humidity is in the 80s. The reek of diesel permeates every nook and cranny as he works. You have to put up with those conditions if you don't have a union. The new filter is installed. The engine starts....then dies again and again and again. There's a little wind so we raise sail and achieve about three and a half knots while contemplating our next move. There's a second filter, we replace that with as much verve and vigor as we did the first adding skinned knuckles to our list of woes as the damned thing is placed where you can't put your hands yet it requires hand manipulation. The motor starts and dies, and starts and dies, again and again and again. The moon is high and we all are wide awake now so we hydrate with three cold ones and contemplate our options. One more bright idea, maybe the fuel vent is clogged so we deal with that. The engine starts and dies a couple of times more and then continues to run with an occasional cough for the next hour and then after that runs ok. More hydration and then a couple of hours of sleep. The new day is promising to be a hot one. The sun rises as a red fiery ball in a matrix of sullen gray haze. It looks like a scene from a science fiction movie about another planet. No wind, we motor and motor. Finally we have a swim call. We throw over a rope, stop the boat and dangle in the water trying not to look like shark bait. It is gloriously refreshing. Now we are well on our way across the Gulf of Tehuantepec in Southern Mexico. This is the birthplace of the tropical hurricanes of the Northwest Pacific. It is also the well known home of "Tehuantepeckers" (rhymes with "decker"). We call our weather service and they say no Tehuantepeckers for a couple of days. Since we have two days to cross the gulf which is 250 miles across, we go for it. Checking the sailing directions we find that when certain conditions exist in Southeast Gulf of Mexico, the north winds funnel across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec and accelerate to produce fierce winds from 40 to 50 knots and higher extending up to 500 miles from the shore. Waves can reach heights of 50 to 100 feet and there is no way to predict the winds with barometer or other on-board instruments. The weather service has to look to see what's happening in Texas to make a prediction. So it's glassy. Hope it stays that way for the next couple of days and hope the engine keeps running or at least that friendly winds come up. We passed Rubble 10 last night. That's a 41 foot sloop that we met in Las Barillas. It is actually named "Rebel 10" but after they crashed into the fishing boats moored near the fuel dock while trying to refuel, some of the less kindly sailors such as us conceived the sobriquet "Rubble 10" and so reputations are made. The moniker is so much fun that no amount of subsequent spiffy seamanship will ever erase the new name from our stories of this voyage. Since we replaced our Autohelm steering mechanism, nicknamed "Iron Mike" for its tireless operation of the rudder; and since the replacement part is a plastic drive belt, we have renamed the Autohelm "Plastic Mike" and after all of the trouble we went to get the part, no one wants to use it and risk another failure of the equipment. So we mostly just steer. <A couple of days later after giving up on Plastic Mike's steering abilities, we renamed him "Spastic Mike".> BELLY OF THE BEAST, TUES, 4/23 Last night was pretty uneventful. The engine when needed wouldn't run, but we cajoled it for an hour or so and it finally settled down to a steady purr with only an occasional hiccup. This morning we officially entered the heart of the Gulf of Tehuantepec. Here is the cradle of hurricanes and sea stories about getting blown 500 miles offshore during a storm. We set a straight course to the other side of the gulf instead of hugging the shore. This saves us about 30 miles of sailing but means that if we get caught with a Tehuantepecker we will be in a very bad position as far as sea state. Shortly the wind came up from the north and quickly grew to 20 knots. North is the Tehuantepecker direction. Phil and I looked at each other and without saying a word tacked to head closer to shore. After about an hour the wind moderated and clocked about 30 degrees so we decided that we were not faced with an offshore detour to Hawaii after all and tacked back to our original course. We're now motorsailing at 6 knots and since there is a pretty good chop I'm sitting in the dining area and getting an elevator ride with every wave. Big waves drop me with a bang, others just go whoopsie with my stomach. It's like sitting in a washing machine typing on a portable. This morning we did an underway refueling. This involved unshipping a ten gallon diesel container from its position on the swim step at the stern and horsing it into a position higher than the filler hose of the fuel tank. John strapped himself in with a harness as though he was going to climb the Eiger and hung out over the stern and Phil and I guided the fuel jug into position. We secured it with ropes hands feet and whatever else we could and set up the "Baja Filter", which is like a large funnel equipped with filters to remove sand, water, fibers and other contaminants of third world diesel fuel. We got the evolution done with a minimum of bruises and got the empty container back in its position. John got back on board and we collectively cleaned up the spilled fuel. Ah, for the experience of pulling up to a gas pump and saying "fillerup". We had huevos rancheros and toast for breakfast. They were surprisingly good considering they were made with powdered eggs and month old salsa. Hopefully we will complete this leg of the voyage by tomorrow and be able to check in to Mexico at Huatulco. There is a Club Med there so we will probably end up there for the evening. The schedule is tight so I guess we won't lollygag too long there and will probably be underway for Acapulco the next day. Four days in a row of this is wearing. We've been fortunate in that there have been long periods of relatively calm seas so that we have been able to relax, read, sleep, and generally recharge our batteries. Without that respite it would be exhausting indeed.
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