Photo Post - Found the Camera

Here are a few backlogged pictures.  Hope they give a little sense of the place.

****
Sunset from our boat.

A couple of locals along the waterfront walk - the Malecon.

Tamsyn and Griffyn onboard Madrona.

Carrie in her kitchen...

Tamsyn in her fronds.

Griffyn with his spikes.

And last of all - our boat's interior layout.  Hope you've enjoyed.  Later.

The Sky is Falling!

I woke up this morning and something horrible and strange had happened to the sky.  There was this puffy white stuff hanging up above the bay - almost like a white ceiling - and I felt uneasy because I had never seen such a sight here in La Paz.  Clouds.  Feel bad for us.

Well... things have been going along fairly well.  Still no definitive word on the rigging wire.  They want more money, etc..., and we may have to engage a shipping agent to help us out.  Back when I lived in Africa we had an expression there.  TIA.  This is Africa.  It kind of was a reminder to Mzungu's (whites) of where they were, and all that that implies.

Well, I think another expression should be coined - TIM; This is Mexico.  File under Manana.

Stowing of gear is progressing.  Clothing is put away, snap-lock food storage containers are aboard.  Easy to get at provisioning storage areas are cleaned out (we keep finding "treasures" belonging to the previous owners), and food shopping has commenced.

I've set up my work area for the computer.  It's at the Navigation Station desk.  There, above the desk I have installed a nice "RAM" brand swing arm laptop mounting unit so my computer can be at eye level while I do my interpretive artwork.  Also that location for the computer works well for using the computer when it is functioning as a navigational aid while under weigh.  We run software called MaxSea that interfaces with one of our GPS units, and shows the boat's position on a chart in real time.  We have charts for the whole world (as well as paper charts for large chunks of it).

Currently I'm working on jobs for a nature reserve on the Hudson River in New York state, and am gearing up to finish a half completed project for a wildlife demonstration garden in Edmonds (waiting for text).  I also have to update my website with two years of new artwork.  Oh.. and a dozen other work related things too.

Tamsyn and Griffyn have begun winter term of school with reading, writing, math, and even some science.  As the teachers are uber busy still getting the boat put together, they are still getting off easy compared to what will be the case a week hence.  Some of the newness of the boat is wearing off, and now they are finding their favorite spaces (quarter berth), and games (doggie races).

Carrie and I are still mostly attending to the basics; getting the boat livable, while leaving time to make food, do dishes, work on contracts, and a fair amount of walking around trying to find stores that sell the item you really need but cannot find.

We wake around seven; doze for half an hour, then get up around half past the hour.  At eight we hear the bells being struck at the naval base next door, much at they have been struck for hundreds of years on navy ships the world round.  Then it's to the shower, and back for the morning radio net.

We have a backlog of pictures to share, but as evening rolls around and the kids go to sleep, we find ourselves fading as fast as the twilight here (as we are further south than the Florida Keys night falls quickly).  Last night Carrie fell asleep sitting down on the cabin sole while in the process of stowing clothes in a forward locker.  My routine of late has been to work for an hour before be, and then when I crawl into our rack - in the V-Berth - I manage to read 1 or 2 pages of the novel I'm reading (The First Man in Rome) before my eyes blur and I find myself re-reading the same paragraph I was reading five eternal minutes before.  Bye bye to another day.

Our friend Paul (from S/V Jeorgia - an Edmonds boat) has been so great in helping get our systems checked out.  In the last few days we've verified that the Pactor modem (which interfaces with the Single Side Band radio (SSB) is working great.  This modem will not only allow us to do email on the high seas through the SSB radio, but also us to download weather faxes and satellite images from NOAA while at sea.  So a good thing to have in working order.

We also have a visit yesterday from Steve from S/V Saben (another Edmonds boat).  So it's great to have familiar faces from home around.  Good to hear from friends back home who are reading this blog.  Thanks.  Tamsyn is anxious to write about her experiences here.

Wildlife moment of the day - seeing about fifty frigate birds circling like a big school of fish above gently waving palm trees on the waterfront.  Sunny tomorrow.  That's the news from Lake Wobegon.

Owen

Peace on Sunday

With a slight breeze, at 9:30 AM, it was warm (about 75 degrees F) and sunny. The water was calm and shiny blue. La Paz means peace.

Sunday morning we sat in the cockpit eating our oatmeal with raisins and milk. It was a special morning because I had made hot cocoa from scratch. Sunday is different than other days because there is no 8:00 AM weather report, no roll call, no news on the VHF radio – the boating community party line. On Sunday most stores are closed all day.  Nobody would be coming by to fix the rig or the cabin lights or the dinghy, the boat yard would be quiet all day, no charters or taxi boats would make big waves early in the morning, waking us up.

We began our day knowing it would be a slower day, no exhausting “shopping” trips. We needed a break from trying to find our way around an open market or even an American-style supermarket where all the prices are in pesos and the names in Spanish. The supermarket was only a mile from the boat. I never got lost physically just psychologically. I spent a long time looking for necessities like baking powder - (unsuccessful), trying to decipher flours types (I bought corn meal), choosing a moisturizer (eventually giving up and choosing the only brand I recognized.) No trips to town trying to find the “dollar” store and ending up in the open market where the banyos (restrooms) cost 4 pesos/person and the lunch and snacks (me and the kids) end up costing more than the containers we never found. No strangers for a whole day – even though they were all friendly and incredibly helpful - I just couldn’t chat with another displaced gringo who told me their life story in five minutes.

Today we would stay at home. We still couldn’t sit in the salon or eat at our table, but maybe I would figure out how to soak (in iodine) all those fruits and vegetables I bought two days ago – so we could eat them. Maybe we would put our clothes in drawers and cupboards today (and throw out those old suitcases), maybe I would find my flip flops and take a shower (at the marina banyo), maybe I would cook something (other than eggs or oatmeal) on our stove in the galley. I was feeling hopeful after we stowed the children’s books and realized there was more room for books. Maybe I would download a kindle cookbook for my birthday (as yet uncelebrated - it was the day we moved). 
Maybe …..

The day was full of possibilities and I was feeling as bright as the sunshine and as cool as the light airy breeze off the water. It was a peaceful morning as everyone sat in the cockpit and drank real Hershey's cocoa.


Carrie

Mañana - means maybe tomorrow

As I mentioned... we got this boat.

So we are are down in Mexico, and the weather is fine.  Tamsyn and her dad (me) arrived on Saturday evening, and slept on Madrona that night.  It was quite a new world for Tamsyn.  The first night she slept alone in the quarter berth.  The second night she - and I - slept in the same quarter berth.  I know how a sardine feels.  On Monday Carrie and Griffyn flew in - their arms were tired.

So now we are this Leave it to Beaver family on the boat.  You know, napkins folded, dinner served on time, you get the drill.

So what's been going on?   Aside from trying to stow heaps of gear into the nooks and crannies, the kids have been running up and down the docks - even though their parental units keep repeating "No running." Tamsyn saw a whale shark yesterday from our boat.  It was spotted and its fin broke the surface.  I guess it was a bit lost.

Griffyn is in love with the general boatness of the boat. I catch him looking through the portholes, and stomping his feet on the deck to hear the sound it makes.  He really likes getting on and off the boat.  The water all around is really exciting to him.  His favorite thing so far has been a high speed dingy ride we all took.  He was in the bow, and stuck his tongue out just like a dog in a car. Not really.  But he was in the bow (front) and the wind bent his ears back.  You can tell I exaggerate. He loved it though.

Me... well I have been doing pretty mundane things like mounting our new liferaft to the stern of the boat, cleaning the toilet (called a head), and trying to figure out what needs to happen to get our rigging wire out of customs in Guadalajara.

But where ever I can find peanut butter and jelly I am happy.  As I sit now on the darkened vessel, the kids are asleep.  Only a couple small lights are on, and the only sound we hear is this strange clicking and snapping - which emanates from every part of the hull (the boat's bottom).  I experienced this oddity last month when I stayed on the boat.  Upon asking someone what made the noise, they gave me an answer which at first seemed so improbable that I didn't give it credence.  But after asking many, and always receiving the same answer I've decided they all must be pulling my leg.  They claim it is the sound made by tiny shrimp eating marine growth off the bottom of the boat. I think it's Orville Reddinbacher making popcorn down there.  Sure is strange - whoever is making it.

And of course I am keeping busy with my interpretive illustration business.  I'm working on a number of contracts at present, and keeping each moving along.

Soon we will take pictures and share them.  Ta ta for now.  Mañana.

Finding our Feet

We are a little buried here with stuff. It is hard to find anything much less get it put away or fix all the things that need to be fixed or thrown out or stowed. Wow what a colossal mess! Owen has only hit his head once today (and swore). The kids will be right sailors soon. I can only intervene to save the young ears so much before the onslaught of explicatives - caused by stripped bolts rusted on, or objects in the way - begin anew.

Our rigging wire is still stuck at the border. Our car is in a gated condo area and we couldn't get it out yesterday (our stuff is still in it). Someone here was telling me all about how her engine was stolen right out of her car - by the police.  I will feel much better when we are car-less.

The twighlight is a lovely shade of pink. The kids are fine - going swimming this afternoon. Owen and I have our work cut out for us. It feels good to write and sleep - in each case I am somewhat removed from the overwhelming task of getting it all stowed.

Glad to be missed somewhere where people still know my name.

Carrie

On the Road...

So we bought this boat see...

Feeling the need for a change, we had been considering what to do.  Our reasons were many, but we both felt that we owed ourselves, and our kids, more out of these precious years.  The only question was how to get off the merry-go-round.  On a return from a vacation road trip to Yellowstone some time ago, my wife Carrie said to me, "Remember that dream of yours about buying a cruising sailboat and seeing the world?"

Suddenly alert, I said, "Yes."

"Well, let's do that," she continued.  My heart skipped a beat.

"Don't say if you don't mean it," was the only reply I could get out.

Well, many moons later, we now are homeless, all our worldly goods are either in storage with family back in Minnesota, or in our 4-runner.

So this morning Tamsyn and her dad left Edmonds under snowy skies.  Our destination is La Paz, Mexico, where our sailboat, a Tayana 37, is waiting.  The truck is loaded with gear and personal belongings for the family.  Tonight we now sit in a comfortable motel room after a long day of wet roads and fog.  We made it to southern Oregon, and tomorrow we hope to push far into California.  We hope to make it down to La Paz in the next five days or so.  Carrie and Griffyn plan on flying down to La Paz in a week, where hopefully they will be met by the advance party (us).

Here are a couple of pictures of the boat which is currently named "Que Tal."  We are renaming her Madrona, after our favorite northwest tree.  She will properly be name S/V Madrona, with the S/V standing for Sailing Vessel.  M/V is a motor vessel.  In Europe - and most other places besides north america a sailboat like ours would called a Sailing Yacht (S/Y), but I think Yacht sounds to elitist to most americans, so we have sailing vessels instead.

This is her stern, and all the stainless steel tubing hanging off the stern is a Monitor self steering windvane.  The white hockey puck on a pole is our radar.

Here's the view from the bow looking aft.  Notice how wide and unobstructed the side decks are.  That makes a big difference when moving forward in rough seas.

And here is the bow and the bow pulpit, and a view of our mast and spreaders.
Time for some shut eye.  Back on the road in the morning.  Go Ducks!

Oh... and here are a couple of pictures of a roadside shrine Tamsyn and I stopped at on the way down along the Sea of Cortez.