Photo by World Tour Stories.
We just put up a section of links to other sailing blogs. There'll soon be some new sections for some helpful sailing how-tos, books everyone should have aboard (or, our recommendations at least), and other helpful resources. For now, explore some other pages we like to check out...
It doesn't look like it in this shot, but at one point out in the Yucatan Channel in front of Puerto Aventuras, we were in 8'-10' seas with short periods and high winds. It was supposed to be a mellow Sunday with our friends Miguel, Susana and their two year old daughter, Uma.
Then the bow of Edward Blair dug into, and submerged through one of the largest waves we were confronted with, breaking out the other side. While all the adults aboard were wondering if the conditions would ease up or not, Uma took a nap. Uma doesn't worry about big waves and poor conditions.
After only an hour at sea on a no-destination Sunday Sail with friends, we grew tired of getting tossed around, making between 1.5 and 4 knots, depending which side of a wave we were on, and headed back to the marina for a better idea. Barbecue and beer.
Sure, it's damned fun to watch as the bow of your boat goes straight into the ocean and comes back up, blowing through the waves in front of you, but with a two year old aboard and a full cockpit with no real destination it was time to avoid the, "This could get worse..." possibilities and head on in.
Later in the day around 5pm the winds calmed down and so did the seas. Our friends Mack and Lisa came over to our slip in their 26' zodiac and its 250hp outboard. They picked us up and whipped out across the bay, airing off the tops of the longer, rolling waves into a protected caleta where cenote water comes out from under the seabed.
When the cenote water merges with the ocean water, it makes a cold mix of salt water and fresh water that will redeem the day and cool everyone down in this Caribbean heat.
All photos by our good friend, Susana Hidalgo.
Katy's sister, brother-in law and their seven year old son live in Rhode Island. I had never been and Katy hadn't seen their new place out in Tiverton yet.
We hopped on a plane from Mexico City after a week of drinking beer and eating Consuelos at our friend's churrería was all wrapped up. The first order of business was to head downtown Boston to see shows by Future Islands, The National, Neutral Milk Hotel and a blurry memory of bars. There were also trains, drives through the country and BBQs.
The timing of this trip may have intentionally been planned, or just so happened to have worked out so that we could go see the Jays play at Fenway against the Sox. Walking through one of the most storied ballparks in the game was a special experience on its own. I would fly back for the overpriced beers and historic walls alone.
The visit here will be over after the weekend and the Caribbean will become home again. There are stories, but these photos will save me the effort and might just do the trick.
A sharpie memorial has been written into the bench from Good Will Hunting. We took a little stop by there, paid our respects for all the laughs and Katy took a seat on the pavement to add, "You're doing it, Peter!" to the list.
Rest easy, ol' boy.
After a couple weeks at Marina Paraiso up in Isla Mujeres, we set sail early Sunday morning for a little trip of just under 60 nautical miles to Edward Blair's more permanent marina, Puerto Aventuras. It was a great day for sailing, heading mostly wing-on-wing all day, although the winds could have been a bit stronger... until they were too strong.
An isolated shower we saw on the shoreline near Punta Maroma formed into a real storm that didn't catch us off-guard. We reefed early and still heeled almost 30° before bringing the genoa in. If you know the area, the Yucatan Channel is a current that runs strong and to the north, the opposite direction we wanted to go. It cuts in close to Punta Maroma and is almost impossible to avoid it there without cutting too close to shore.
On a port tack run, the wind lifted, coming around our stern, jibing and became a starboard header putting us into a beam reach. Good thing we were sailing with a preventer put out off the boom. It happened fast and I didn't have time to check our anemometer but the wind felt like it was gusting above 25 knots as we rode up, cutting through peaks and surfing down the backs. The storm didn't last long, but it was the most fun we had all day.
To make good time and fit the plan to arrive with some daylight we motor sailed the entire way at points making over 7 knots on our 32' Morgan and an estimated time that would get us in just before sunset to a new marina with a relatively small mouth, surrounded by rocky points.
As things go with schedules and sailing, the wind had all but completely died some ten or twenty minutes prior, and for a still unknown reason our engine shut down close to a rocky shore directly in front of the mouth of a giant commercial shipping marina.
A large container ship docked to our starboard and another commercial ship coming out. The wind had died. We pointed away from shore to catch a bit of a broad reach as the sails luffed, slightly pulling us away from shore and into the Yucatan Channel.
After jumping down into the cabin as fast as I could, checking the Racor, water strainer, fuel tank and everything I could on the engine in a rush, there was nothing I could immediately see. We thought even though it didn't grind to a halt that it could be something in the prop. After all, it wasn't two weeks ago that we ground out the engine wrapping our prop over one of hundreds of lobster traps off the coast of Key West in the pitch black. I hung off the back of the boat then and cut us free. I threw the remaining line down to the depths of hell.
Back to present, I grab my mask and tie a bowline as quick as I can around my waist and Katy cleats me off to the stern. We are still in front of the mouth of this shipping channel and dock. I dip into the sea, tied to the boat knowing that line had better hold. We're in a current with no power and two sails that won't do much good in these conditions. Nothing in the prop. After five or six attempts, the engine starts but does sound like it needs a little more throttle to get to the same power it did at lower RPMs. I throttle it in neutral, bring it back, throttle it in forward, bring it back, throttle it in reverse. The Yanmar kicks itself back into gear and we're starting to move from negative knots back up to 3, 4, then 5 as a ship passes us closely just as the engine begins to work again. There is no way we're making it to this new marina by sunset. Get me a beer.
We made it to Puerto Aventuras just after dark and our good friends Mack and Lisa, who are true blue, whipped out of the marina in their Zodiac and guided us in through the narrow channel into a temporary slip in front of Mack's 72' yacht, Piratas de Tejas (Pirates of Texas). After tying up from a trip like that, you know drinks are the first item on the agenda.
Mack runs a charter company down here in the Mayan Riviera, h2Oh! Sun Cruises. Hands down they have the best tours in the Mayan Riviera if you're looking for a day at sea. Whether it's with a group, private, fishing, snorkelling or whatever you please, they're your best option.
Mack has been a great friend to us, and while we were away, helped set us up with the perfect slip in Puerto Aventuras, with close access right to sea. We've been travelling almost non-stop since April or May of this year, so it felt good to get back to somewhere familiar, see friends and enjoy cold drinks and food together.
At least for now we'll get three days of normalcy before heading off to Mexico City on a work trip for our beer distribution business, Casa Barriles, followed immediately by a visit to see family up and Providence and then catch a show with Future Islands and The National in Boston followed by a Jays game at Fenway.
It's good to be home in Mexico. If even only for a moment.
Katy put some words down about our recent trip from Florida to Mexico. Specifically about this one day that was pretty special out there. Here they are...
This photo was taken on our way to Key West, alone in the Gulf of Mexico with no land or other boats in sight. It's hard to describe how magical that morning was, but I can try.
We awoke for our 4am shift to layers upon layers of stars twinkling in the sky. The moon was nowhere in sight. I don't know if I've ever seen so many stars at once. We were so far away from even the smallest hint of light from land, with countless shooting stars zipping through the sky.
The water was like glass, smoother than any bathtub. It looked like we were in outer space with the reflection of the stars on the water, not knowing where the sky ended and the ocean began. As our boat cut through the water, phosphorescence lit up in its wake. I took a paddle and dragged it through the water for the better part of an hour stirring up more of them, mesmerized by the beauty of it all.
And then came sunrise. We saw a few dolphins playing in the distance as the stars started to disappear and the sky became brighter. Later in the crossing, a pod of about 40 spinner dolphins came to play at the bow of our boat for almost half an hour, jumping straight up out of the water, spinning and splashing back down, showing off.
As the sun rose higher in the sky we noticed we were passing several huge jellyfish as big as your head, floating in the glassy water. We ended up passing through hundreds, maybe thousands of them. We just sat on the side of the boat and watched them pass by as the sky became more colourful and the sun rose higher off the horizon.
