KATHLEEN FLYING “HOME” TODAY; VILISAR IN NEW COLOURS; APPLYING NON-SKID ON PAINTED DECKS; CARPENTRY WORK IN MEXICO; CONTACT TO JOE AND SANDRA MAY IN ALASKA
San Patricio Malaque, Jalisco, Mexico, Saturday, 18 February 2006

Kathleen flying “home” today

The good news is that Kathleen is very likely already on the airplane bound for Newark and then on to Mexico City. I had a small MSN Messenger exchange with her, the first time we have both been online simultaneously. She arrives quite late in Mexico and will have to take a hotel and catch the daily direct bus from Central del Norte terminal bound overnight to Barra de Navidad. It arrives at about 0530 and I shall move Vilisar into the lagoon at Barra. It’s a long way into the dock from the anchorage there. But I don’t think I want to subject Kathleen and her baggage to a night-time embarkation through the Melaque surf. That might be too much of a re-baptism into the cruising life again.

Vilisar in new colours

Just in time for Kathleen’s return, I have finished up the “spring” maintenance on Vilisar, by which I mean the annual paint-refresher and cosmetic update. Except for her spars and brightwork and a single long, teal-coloured accent stripe along the caprail, Vilisar is now an all-round white and ready for the tropics. The choice is of colour is definitely important down here. The heat absorption of even a light grey finish is much greater than white. A light blue can be almost effective. But I have taken the advice of one of the most practical and experienced cruisers and voyagers, Jack on the junk-rigged S/V Belle Via out of Comox.

“Sure,” he says, “If you want to spend a lot of time picking colours and trying over the years to match shade again while the UV fades it, go for nice colours and nuances. But straight white is the coolest for a wooden or any other vessel and you never have to mix colours!”

So, I followed his advice, trotted off to the Comex shop and brought home white enamel (matt). Comex is a manufacturer owned now, I think, by Akzo Nobel of The Netherlands and so should be of good quality. The paint has worked like a charm.

All the brightwork, hatchcovers, blocks, rudder, tiller, etc., received several coats of Cetol and at least coats of Cetol Gloss. The caprails, cabin sides and miscellaneous got a good coat of the remaining off-white ACE-Hardware paint. A new hardwood foot brace was affixed to the cockpit sole. The cockpit received a lot of attention where wood seams had dried out. These were filled and the whole area painted as part of the non-skid programme.

Applying non-skid on painted decks

The decks on a boat can rapidly turn into skating rinks unless something is done to remove the slipperiness. There are several ways to go about this. Bare teak is one way or unpainted wood of some other wood; fishing boats in B.C., for example, use fir but keep it wet with saltwater. All these bare woods have to be maintained too. Old merchant vessels and warships used bare wooden decks that were polished daily with pumice stone to keep them white and, one supposes, non-slippery.

Vilisar’s decks are made of red cedar planks laid parallel with the fore and aft line of the vessel (the alternative for a laid deck would be to make the planks curve to follow the line of the outer edge of the deck). Our decks are painted. When we got the boat in 2001, the decks were already painted. I cannot recall if they had received a non-skid treatment or had just dried out so much that they were not slippery. Anyway, I used a coat of enamel on the decks the first time I painted them myself. And, oh, my! Did they look beautiful! Unfortunately, the first time we went out on a sail, even the spray on the deck made it completely treacherous. It made no difference whatsoever whether I was barefoot or wearing rubber sandals. I could not stay in one spot on the foredeck without hanging on to something for dear life. Trying to accomplish anything like putting up or taking in sails was almost more than I could handle.

Soon afterwards I attempted to put a non-skid coating on it. All the old sailors told me that all I had to do was get some beach sand and use that. Of course, if I were a fool, I could separate myself from my money by purchasing non-skid sand from, say, West Marine. I trundled off to the beach and collected sand. I even washed it to get the salt off it. I tired both broadcasting in onto the freshly painted deck and I tried mixing it into the paint. The latter meant that I had to continually be stirring the paint to prevent the sand from sinking. This turned out to be a nuisance.

The result looked good at first. But after a while the sand had been first exposed and then worn away. I didn’t realise at the time that you first have to paint and scatter sand onto the wet paint as you go along. The next day you then paint over the sand to seal it in. And don’t use glossy, shiny enamel either.

I ashamedly bought 7 lbs. of “fine” silica sand at a marine supply store in Puerta Vallarta for about the equivalent of US$ 12, ashamedly because I still thought I could collect sand from the beach even though what I had seen here was quite fine. I now realise that some sand is gritty and some sand is smooth and what you need is the former. By spending the money that’s what I applied. The traditional alternative to sand is ground walnut shells. I saw the professional painters in Long Beach treat the large aft deck of a sport-fishing boat in this manner and it looked terrific. They gave me tips. They used two-part polyurethane paint too; expensive but good. They had purchased a whole bag of shells (about a bushel, I should estimate) and used only a small portion of it. They gave the rest away. I would have been quite pleased to have the shells for my non-skid project. But somebody tell me where on board I should carry a large bag of shells for a year or two until I do the deck again! I reluctantly passed. In the end the bag of shells went into the trash to be added to the hidden costs of having somebody else do your paintwork for you.

Paint maintenance on a wooden boat is an ongoing thing. If you don’t like it buy a boat of some other material or have somebody do the work for you. It should be noted however that wooden boats are generally much cheaper and custom-built boats even cheaper. So what you save on the initial investment for the vessel might make it worth your while to accept some painting and varnishing. I shall not even get into the discussion about the work involved in painting rust-bucket steel boats or tarting up plastic boats. I probably paint the boat form stem to stern and masthead to keel about once in every two years. The anti-fouling paint gets done at least every year, of course, as do some other heavy-traffic areas. Any surface that gets direct tropical noontime sun – decks, caprails, hatchcovers, etc. will need coating every year at least in the tropics. Our Cetol-coated spars are good for another year, I think. Last year I gave all the brightwork several coats of Cetol each as well as several gloss coats this year it just required one coat of each. I put five coats of Cetol and three of Gloss on the newly refinished and recaulked lazarette hatchcover. Looks super!

Here are some tips and observations on my non-skid job. First, even using “fine” silica sand, the decks are now very rough. After the first few days the soles of my feet are burning and sore. If I fall on this deck at sea I may have to be med-evacuated with serious abrasions! But I certainly should not be worried about sliding around on a wet deck at all! With the Comex matt exterior enamel that I used, I could paint, scatter sand and repaint 4-6 hours later. This is important if you are painting at anchor as I was and you cannot simply unload all the deck stuff off of the boat and do everything in one go. At anchor you move everything to one side of the boat, paint and do the other side the next day when the first part is dry. Two coats of the Comex enamel dried hard in one day while the ACE Hardware porch-paint I used took several days to become hard even though it was dry to the touch fairly quickly. Use kneepads or protectors to do non-skid or your knees will be meat. I also wore an old pair of cottons socks to protect my feet. If not too wet, start to paint early enough in the day before it gets too windy; this is probably less of a problem in a marina or a work yard since they are by nature normally more protected from the wind. Be aware that it will take twice as much paint for that last coat to go over the sand than the coat before it. Work the paint going on over the sand in many different directions to ensure a good coating.

I have tried throwaway brushes: the sponge ones will be shredded in no time, so forget them. The bristle throwaway brushes are all right, I guess, and I of course use them from time to time on small, one-off jobs. But they do not carry the paint well, you do a lot of dipping and dripping; you will be lucky if only your hands are covered in paint. Moreover, expect to get a lot of bristles in the paint. I used the same high-quality, 3-inch Purdy brush for all the paintwork this time round and was very pleased with it. Another advantage of working with only one colour is that you only need one brush and one batch of cleanup chemical. (I use ACE Hardware mineral spirits because I have lots of it on board to use in the petroleum lamps in the main cabin; it’s cheaper, burns cleaner; mineral spirits are easier to obtain than kerosene.) All through the renovations, I kept the brush in mineral spirits up to and including the heel. Before starting the next phase of work, I simply squeezed the brush out, rubbed it dry on an old rag, and got right on with the painting. It only took a few minutes at either end of the day. I regularly passed the dirty mineral spirits through a paint strainer into a new and large yoghurt-container. Tonight, when I pack all my painting gear back into the portable paint locker that lives under the cockpit seat, I shall clean the brush well in mineral spirits, rub out the excess on a rag, and then wash the brush a couple of times in warm soapy water. I have heard of rubbing a bit of petroleum jelly into the bristles, the heel especially, but have not tried it. I have come to like this brush and want to keep it soft and useful for years. There was no bristle loss at all despite the rough treatment on the sanded surface.
Carpentry work in Mexico
Ever since we capsized the dinghy off the Pacific coast of Baja last February and lost the removable parts, I have been make-shifting. Finally, in La Paz I made a new seat for the dinghy and simple screwed a wooden cover over the forward locker and the daggerboard hole. The latter was in place of a plug that slid into the slit when the daggerboard itself was not in use. This cover never worked well when we were towing the dinghy since the pressure would force sea water up into the forward section of the dinghy until the boat became bow heavy and would jaw like crazy or race down a wave to try and catch Vilisar. We would have to heave to and bail the tender out.

I start off a day or two ago to find a lumber yard (madereria) so I can make a new plug myself or, alternatively, to find a carpenter who can make it for me at a reasonable price. While having a coffee with friends at one of the sidewalk cafes in Malarky, I get into a discussion with Adriano, the manager, who is curious to know why I am carrying a dinghy daggerboard (to use as a model, is the answer). After a little discussion he tells me his brother is a carpenter and, if I want, he will take it around to him this evening and have the plug and the daggerboard back the morning after tomorrow. We agree on a maximum price without my approval and I have the day free to paint. When I pick it up yesterday, it is nicely done in a tropical wood called in Spanish parota but which I cannot find in my Spanish-English dictionary. It looks rather like raw teak and the carpenter made it in this since the item will be in the water a lot. I am very pleased to have this done at last and find that it only costs me Peso 100 (about US$ 10) including materials. I didn’t have the fun of dealing with the carpenteria myself. But I had fun talking to Adriano, a very nice guy and I certainly got my new plug faster. This morning I gave the raw wood a good coat of sealant and later, after sanding it lightly, I shall paint it.


CONTACT TO JOE AND SANDRA MAY IN ALASKA

Ever since we acquired Vilisar in 2001, I have been hoping for a contact to Joe and Sandra May who owned the boat for a decade and did so much work on it. In fact I get occasional emails form Joe who lives now in Trapper Creek, Alaska, where he is a musher and dogsled racer. He himself won the Iditarod in the early 1980’s. But each time that I try to reply to him that is the end of the exchange. So I am not even sure that he is receiving my emails.

One day at the internet café I look his telephone number up on Google and give him a call using SKYPE. Sandra answers. Joe, she tells me, has just left with others on a longer trip by snowmobile into the interior. Despite the fact that I can hardly hear her, we have a nice initial conversation about Vilisar and she gives me her email address too. But I guess I shall have to call her again and double-check the email address because my test message could not be delivered. I have a raft of questions about what they did together with Vilisar and a lot of technical questions about the boat including how many hours were on the Lister engine when they sold the boat. I shall just have to be persistent, I guess.

ECONOMICS IN LATIN AMERICA
San Patricio Malaque, Jalisco, Mexico, Tuesday, 14 February 2006

Valentine’s Day! Only six more days till Kathleen gets back. I have decided to stay here in the “Malarky”/Barra de Navidad/Tenacatita area until she gets here. By that time I should have all the spring cosmetic work done and can take it easy. On 20 Feb 06 I am supposed to get a large translation job so I will be handy here to the web.

It is also my son Andrew’s 20th Birthday. So Happy Birthday! Kathleen and I both are excited about him crewing with us to the Galapagos Islands and Ecuador in April. It will be his first time on Vilisar since he was fifteen and the first time that he has been aboard alone with us, i.e. without the presence of his sister and brother.

Economics in Latin America

When you visit Mexico it comes as no surprise to see that it is some mixture of “First” and “Third World”. The standards of living along the coast in these beach strips, in the Sierras when we were there and in many of the small towns appear to be very low. On the other hand Mexicans always seem to be working and hustling and there are signs everywhere of an earlier prosperity. So, what happened? Why isn’t Mexico prosperous now?

The first thing to remark is that, compared to twenty years ago, Mexico is probably relatively more prosperous. But Mexico, like much of Latin America, is only now recovering from a first debt crisis in 1980 and another one in the 1990’s. The Clinton Government bailed Mexico out of the second one, thus probably reinforcing Mexico’s client-state relationship with its big neighbour to the north.

Except for a brief interlude in the 1930’s, between 1900 and 1980 Mexico and Latin America generally grew steadily on the back of global (read “First World”) demand for raw materials and foodstuffs, i.e. it was an export-driven growth. In return, Latin America bought manufactured products from the U.S.A. and Europe. In the 1930’s Latin American governments began a programme of import-substituting industrialisation, i.e. instead of importing manufactured products, Latin America wanted to continue exporting resources while manufacturing the industrial products for themselves. It was hoped too that they could also export the same finished products to Europe and the U.S.A. This programme was not without its success especially in the larger Latin American countries like Brazil, Argentina and Mexico. Steel plants were built and so were modern automobile and other plants. For their part, the local national governments borrowed money internationally and undertook huge infrastructure projects like dams, electricity generating plants, highways, railways, land clearances, pipelines, etc. The borrowing and the building increased when oil was discovered in some Latin American countries.

Unfortunately, individual national markets in Latin America were not big enough to handle the scale of production upon which modern, automated processes were predicated. It might have been better to manufacture to take advantage of low wage levels in Latin America. But business executives – most of them also imported - preferred technologically advanced machines that had the added advantage of never going out on strike. Countries like Mexico had to pay for the importation of highly complex machine tools and other technological equipment from the First World. And, since the plants were mainly branches of American, European, and later Japanese companies, it was obvious that they would never be allowed to export these products to other industrial countries unless the head offices permitted, which they generally did not. It had been hoped that, not only would import-substituting industrialisation reduce the drain on foreign currency reserves, it was also hoped that the programme would provide the many new jobs that a burgeoning population of young people required. Some jobs were created, of course, but not nearly enough. Unable to sell enough products domestically and finding First-World markets blocked, Latin American countries began to push for regional or hemispheric free-trade zones. This has not been very successful.

The sudden and rapid rise of petroleum prices created by the OPEC cartel in the 1970’s gave those Latin American countries like Mexico that had oil a huge boost in creditworthiness. American and other international banks were swimming in petro-dollars – the collections from the sale of oil (always in US $) to the First World and were then deposited by OPEC countries (generally short-term) with First-World banks. The banks were desperate to lend it out. They provided the (generally long-term) financing for the huge development programmes along capitalistic models so heartily recommended by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.

For a while the demand created for machinery and the like by both developing countries in Latin America and the Middle-Eastern (e.g. Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Libya, and others) kept First-World capital-goods economies humming. But the second hike in oil prices in the mid-70’s sent most of the global industrial economy into another tailspin. There was Mexico and other Latin American countries with huge amounts of debt, inflation rates and therefore interest rates out of control (*thanks in large part to the Vietnam War), and unable to export the new industrial products being made in the their over-dimensioned factories. The result was economic recession in the First World, near or actual collapse in other countries, massive devaluations, and years of hard pulling to get back even to the levels of 1980.

The “bottom line” is that the countries of Latin America are still exporters of resources, are vulnerable to downturns in First-World markets, are saddled with huge amount of debt for infrastructure and plant that they cannot use efficiently, and are not much closer to solving the structural economic problems that stem from high population-growth rates and dependency upon the developed countries. Whereas the Asian Tigers and SE Asia generally have struck out on a different path (picking national champions, protecting them behind tariff walls, keeping exchange rates favourable, etc.), and while the under-developed fringe countries of Europe, like Ireland, the Mezzogiorno, Greece, Spain, and Portugal, have been, or, like Eastern Europe, are about to be integrated into “Europe” where they will enjoy the benefits of a modern, First-World economy, Mexico is being reduced to a client-state relationship to the U.S.A. American drive and equity will determine the running provided the population remains quiescent, which will surely remain the aim of the Mexican and Latin-American elites.

The Mexican government, dominated for decades by the aristocratic, arrogant and corrupt PCI was finally turned out and a new government under Vincente Fox installed at the end of the 1990’s, a real democratic breakthrough. As a means of solving its intransigent structural problems, Mexico joined NAFTA, the World Trade Organisation (WTO) and opened its markets. NAFTA has had only limited impact on Mexico; WTO and globalisation have probably had much more. While Mexico could originally compete with their duty-free Maquiladoras along the border and their low wage rates, now they are losing industrial production either to the countries of SE Asia, mainly China where production costs are lower and local champions are protected in the same way that Japan did several decades ago, and where currencies are kept artificially low to stimulate exports. Not dissimilar, then, from Germany after WWII and the “Asian Tigers” in the 1960’s. In Europe, it is probably just as cheap to produce in Slovakia, Poland and The Ukraine as it is in Mexico. The devalued Mexican peso has also made Mexican companies vulnerable to takeovers by First-World companies, mainly Americans. Mexican agriculture is also overpowered by highly-subsidised U.S.A. agri-business.

Mexico has two choices though it might possibly be too late to solve its structural problems. It can continue to integrate itself into a North American and therefore U.S.A.-dominated free-trade area. Canada has done this and seen the share of manufacturing drop as part of its GDP. It seems to becoming a resource supplier again. Those industries that Canada does possess are totally integrated into the North-American market and are largely American-owned anyway. Mexico and Canada, in other words, can therefore be “hewers of wood and drawers of water”. The greater problem for Mexico is, however, that although it does have some minerals, its main natural resource is petroleum. That said, Mexico’s proven reserves are dropping, potential new wells in the Caribbean will be much more expensive to develop and will therefore require much more outside help and investment. Like most branch-plant economies, the funding is likely to come only in the form of ownership equity.

(Canada, by comparison, is much larger and has a much broader spread of natural resource ranging from fresh water to uranium. With huge oil sands on the eastern slope of the Rockies and the price of petroleum currently at $60 a barrel, Canada is much more of an oil/natural gas producing nation than Mexico; including the oil sands, Canada has now been rated as the country with the second largest amounts of proven oil reserves after Saudi Arabia. How Canada will deal with this when it is already totally integrated into the North American market remains open. Its population, albeit aging, is much smaller than Mexico’s. But Canada is, on the other hand, much more of an industrial, albeit a branch-plant, economy with the educational, technological, transport and communication infrastructure already at a relatively high standard.

Mexico, on the other hand, has nothing like the same amount of resources and its much larger population, half of it under the age of 25 years old, has to find an outlet for its energies. Large number of Mexico’s working equity, its young people, had for the U.S.A. But there are still lots of people at home looking for jobs.

ECONOMICS IN LATIN AMERICA
San Patricio Malaque, Jalisco, Mexico, Tuesday, 14 February 2006

Valentine’s Day! Only six more days till Kathleen gets back. I have decided to stay here in the “Malarky”/Barra de Navidad/Tenacatita area until she gets here. By that time I should have all the spring cosmetic work done and can take it easy. On 20 Feb 06 I am supposed to get a large translation job so I will be handy here to the web.

It is also my son Andrew’s 20th Birthday. So Happy Birthday! Kathleen and I both are excited about him crewing with us to the Galapagos Islands and Ecuador in April. It will be his first time on Vilisar since he was fifteen and the first time that he has been aboard alone with us, i.e. without the presence of his sister and brother.

Economics in Latin America

When you visit Mexico it comes as no surprise to see that it is some mixture of “First” and “Third World”. The standards of living along the coast in these beach strips, in the Sierras when we were there and in many of the small towns appear to be very low. On the other hand Mexicans always seem to be working and hustling and there are signs everywhere of an earlier prosperity. So, what happened? Why isn’t Mexico prosperous now?

The first thing to remark is that, compared to twenty years ago, Mexico is probably relatively more prosperous. But Mexico, like much of Latin America, is only now recovering from a first debt crisis in 1980 and another one in the 1990’s. The Clinton Government bailed Mexico out of the second one, thus probably reinforcing Mexico’s client-state relationship with its big neighbour to the north.

Except for a brief interlude in the 1930’s, between 1900 and 1980 Mexico and Latin America generally grew steadily on the back of global (read “First World”) demand for raw materials and foodstuffs, i.e. it was an export-driven growth. In return, Latin America bought manufactured products from the U.S.A. and Europe. In the 1930’s Latin American governments began a programme of import-substituting industrialisation, i.e. instead of importing manufactured products, Latin America wanted to continue exporting resources while manufacturing the industrial products for themselves. It was hoped too that they could also export the same finished products to Europe and the U.S.A. This programme was not without its success especially in the larger Latin American countries like Brazil, Argentina and Mexico. Steel plants were built and so were modern automobile and other plants. For their part, the local national governments borrowed money internationally and undertook huge infrastructure projects like dams, electricity generating plants, highways, railways, land clearances, pipelines, etc. The borrowing and the building increased when oil was discovered in some Latin American countries.

Unfortunately, individual national markets in Latin America were not big enough to handle the scale of production upon which modern, automated processes were predicated. It might have been better to manufacture to take advantage of low wage levels in Latin America. But business executives – most of them also imported - preferred technologically advanced machines that had the added advantage of never going out on strike. Countries like Mexico had to pay for the importation of highly complex machine tools and other technological equipment from the First World. And, since the plants were mainly branches of American, European, and later Japanese companies, it was obvious that they would never be allowed to export these products to other industrial countries unless the head offices permitted, which they generally did not. It had been hoped that, not only would import-substituting industrialisation reduce the drain on foreign currency reserves, it was also hoped that the programme would provide the many new jobs that a burgeoning population of young people required. Some jobs were created, of course, but not nearly enough. Unable to sell enough products domestically and finding First-World markets blocked, Latin American countries began to push for regional or hemispheric free-trade zones. This has not been very successful.

The sudden and rapid rise of petroleum prices created by the OPEC cartel in the 1970’s gave those Latin American countries like Mexico that had oil a huge boost in creditworthiness. American and other international banks were swimming in petro-dollars – the collections from the sale of oil (always in US $) to the First World and were then deposited by OPEC countries (generally short-term) with First-World banks. The banks were desperate to lend it out. They provided the (generally long-term) financing for the huge development programmes along capitalistic models so heartily recommended by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.

For a while the demand created for machinery and the like by both developing countries in Latin America and the Middle-Eastern (e.g. Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Libya, and others) kept First-World capital-goods economies humming. But the second hike in oil prices in the mid-70’s sent most of the global industrial economy into another tailspin. There was Mexico and other Latin American countries with huge amounts of debt, inflation rates and therefore interest rates out of control (*thanks in large part to the Vietnam War), and unable to export the new industrial products being made in the their over-dimensioned factories. The result was economic recession in the First World, near or actual collapse in other countries, massive devaluations, and years of hard pulling to get back even to the levels of 1980.

The “bottom line” is that the countries of Latin America are still exporters of resources, are vulnerable to downturns in First-World markets, are saddled with huge amount of debt for infrastructure and plant that they cannot use efficiently, and are not much closer to solving the structural economic problems that stem from high population-growth rates and dependency upon the developed countries. Whereas the Asian Tigers and SE Asia generally have struck out on a different path (picking national champions, protecting them behind tariff walls, keeping exchange rates favourable, etc.), and while the under-developed fringe countries of Europe, like Ireland, the Mezzogiorno, Greece, Spain, and Portugal, have been, or, like Eastern Europe, are about to be integrated into “Europe” where they will enjoy the benefits of a modern, First-World economy, Mexico is being reduced to a client-state relationship to the U.S.A. American drive and equity will determine the running provided the population remains quiescent, which will surely remain the aim of the Mexican and Latin-American elites.

The Mexican government, dominated for decades by the aristocratic, arrogant and corrupt PCI was finally turned out and a new government under Vincente Fox installed at the end of the 1990’s, a real democratic breakthrough. As a means of solving its intransigent structural problems, Mexico joined NAFTA, the World Trade Organisation (WTO) and opened its markets. NAFTA has had only limited impact on Mexico; WTO and globalisation have probably had much more. While Mexico could originally compete with their duty-free Maquiladoras along the border and their low wage rates, now they are losing industrial production either to the countries of SE Asia, mainly China where production costs are lower and local champions are protected in the same way that Japan did several decades ago, and where currencies are kept artificially low to stimulate exports. Not dissimilar, then, from Germany after WWII and the “Asian Tigers” in the 1960’s. In Europe, it is probably just as cheap to produce in Slovakia, Poland and The Ukraine as it is in Mexico. The devalued Mexican peso has also made Mexican companies vulnerable to takeovers by First-World companies, mainly Americans. Mexican agriculture is also overpowered by highly-subsidised U.S.A. agri-business.

Mexico has two choices though it might possibly be too late to solve its structural problems. It can continue to integrate itself into a North American and therefore U.S.A.-dominated free-trade area. Canada has done this and seen the share of manufacturing drop as part of its GDP. It seems to becoming a resource supplier again. Those industries that Canada does possess are totally integrated into the North-American market and are largely American-owned anyway. Mexico and Canada, in other words, can therefore be “hewers of wood and drawers of water”. The greater problem for Mexico is, however, that although it does have some minerals, its main natural resource is petroleum. That said, Mexico’s proven reserves are dropping, potential new wells in the Caribbean will be much more expensive to develop and will therefore require much more outside help and investment. Like most branch-plant economies, the funding is likely to come only in the form of ownership equity.

(Canada, by comparison, is much larger and has a much broader spread of natural resource ranging from fresh water to uranium. With huge oil sands on the eastern slope of the Rockies and the price of petroleum currently at $60 a barrel, Canada is much more of an oil/natural gas producing nation than Mexico; including the oil sands, Canada has now been rated as the country with the second largest amounts of proven oil reserves after Saudi Arabia. How Canada will deal with this when it is already totally integrated into the North American market remains open. Its population, albeit aging, is much smaller than Mexico’s. But Canada is, on the other hand, much more of an industrial, albeit a branch-plant, economy with the educational, technological, transport and communication infrastructure already at a relatively high standard.

Mexico, on the other hand, has nothing like the same amount of resources and its much larger population, half of it under the age of 25 years old, has to find an outlet for its energies. Large number of Mexico’s working equity, its young people, had for the U.S.A. But there are still lots of people at home looking for jobs.

PROVIDING ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE ANCHORAGE
Melaque, Jalisco, Mexico, Saturday, 11 February 2006

As if it were not enough to be swamped under the puzzled stares of Mexican beach-goers while I was rowing ashore a day or two ago, I have now been able to provide a soupcon of amusement for the cruising boats anchored here in Melaque.

Two nights ago the swells during the night continued quite large. There was no wind and Vilisar spent the night lying broadside to the swells and rolling around. This in itself does not usually bother me or keep me from sleeping. No matter what I did with the dinghy, however, - stream it off astern, tether it to the side of the boat with fenders – no matter what I did, the dinghy would bang irregularly and loudly against the hull and wake me up. I would go on deck and try to arrange things so there would be no more noise and, returning below, try to get back to sleep. No luck. No matter what I attempted, it failed and the noise ruined my night’s sleep.

During the sleepless night I resolved to set a stern anchor the next morning. The problem in the Malarkey anchorage is that the swells come refracted around the rocky point and wind up moving under your boat toward the beach at an entirely different angle their original direction of travel and at a different angle as well from the wind that originally caused them. Although the swells are generally small and benign, I never leave the boat without dogging everything down as if I were putting to sea. I do not want to return from shore to the boat and find the drawers emptied onto the floor and the galley things thrown around.

The wind is usually weak in the mornings even if there is still surf running. In fact Vilisar was lying pointed at the beach with the swells coming up under her stern. But, by the time I had collected up all my ropes, freed the 20-pound Danforth anchor from the lazarette hatch where it normally lives (it has only been used once before and that several years ago, and was of course jammed in place by a lot of other stuff), reorganised the lazarette contents while I was about it (so, that’s where that hacksaw went! And there’s the small can of marine enamel I was looking for last autumn!), found appropriate hardware and tools such as shackles, thimbles, mousing wire, and pliers, shackled the line to the anchor, tied one end of the anchor rode to a heavy stern bit, attached a small floating buoy and a light line to the head of the anchor by way of a tripping line and marker buoy, hung the Danforth over the stern of the dinghy, and coiled the rode and the trip line in the bottom of the dinghy in a manner that would allow everything to flow out without turning all into a cats paw, - as I say, by the time I had done all these things a sea breeze had sprung up and swung Vilisar around so she is lying and rolling bow to the wind by across the swells.

Nothing daunted, I row out in the direction of the swells, drop the anchor in about 20 feet of water throwing the trip line and buoy after it. Rowing back to the Vilisar, I go aboard and begin to winch in the stern-anchor rode in between gusts of wind. I eventually get Vilisar pointing back toward the beach. But I have winched in so much anchor rode that the stern of the boat is essentially now directly over the stern anchor. This will not do. Obviously I shall have to bend on another line. I dive into the lazarette again (Hey! Here’s the solar shower!) and come up with another length of ½-inch braided line that I attach to the first one. I row back out, pull up the Danforth, bend on the second line, and head back out to sea trailing the now much longer rode. I repeat the anchoring sequence and head back to Vilisar. By now the wind is quite strong and I am unable to pull in the anchor rode against it and therefore to swing the boat against the wind but in line with the swells. I decide to wait until later in the day when the winds frequently shift around to come straight off the beach (and directly against the swells; I hope you are following this because there will be a Pop Quizz in the morning and, yes, it counts on the final!). I decide that I should let Mother Nature assist me and I go back to painting the deck.

About 1400 the wind has shifted. Vilisar’s bow anchor chain is stretched a bit and the boat has moved back on its bow-anchor rode. I get into the dinghy, row the Danforth anchor out aft in the direction of the swells and drop it once again. Back on Vilisar I soon have the rode pulled in and the anchor set. I snub everything off wondering if the line is actually strong enough. Oh well, what’s the worst that can happen? The rolling has stopped and Vilisar now only bobs up and down from stern to bow. Much more comfortable now, and I feel quite smug for having it done all basically for the first time, alone, and under the curious eyes of my boating neighbours.

I go ashore for a couple of hours. When I get back around 1800 Vilisar is still pointed at the beach and nodding contentedly. I go off to have dinner aboard Veleda with Jens, Alice and Steven along with Rod, Morgan and Cary from Maestra del Mar. Veleda is being very thoughtful seeing as both Charlotte of Maestra del Mar and Kathleen of Vilisar are both away for a while. “Feed my sheep!”

When I return to Vilisar about 2200 there is a full moon overhead to turn everything silvery. Although late in the day, the sea breezes are still blowing quite strongly from Vilisar’s port side while the swells are still coming from astern. Belowdecks I hear the stern-anchor rode giving off strange complaining noises when there is a gust of wind or when one of the swells is larger than normal. I put the groaning noises at about a G under Middle C. About an hour after returning, the rode parts with a “twang” (roughly about Middle C) and Vilisar swings slowly back around into the wind and broadside again to the swells. “We” begin to roll.

I resolve not to try and recover the anchor at night. It is buoyed and has s trip line so I don’t have to worry about it drifting away (anchors seldom to that, in fact). Nor will I have to dive for the Danforth. Thank goodness I put that buoy and trip line on it! Fortunately, my efforts to fender off the dinghy have paid off and it does not keep me awake all night.

This morning after coffee and before the wind has sprung up, I go out after the anchor. It was the light line that parted in the night: the relatively light Danforth (20 lbs.) has held really well. It has really set into the sandy mud on the bottom and it is a struggle to get it broken out and up to the dinghy. I decide that I need to put a bigger line on the buoy too since, if it parts while I am trying to break out the anchor I shall be in trouble. When that anchor surfaces it is heavy with mud. I clean the flukes off a bit and hang the anchor over the stern, pulling in the 100 feet or so of ½=inch line that came up with it and coiling it roughly in the dinghy before rowing back.

By now the wind has sprung up again and Vilisar is athwart the swells once more. Oh well! Mas tarde! On board I dig around in the anchor locker to find two 1-inch nylon mooring lines that I tie together with bowlines. I fit a stainless steel thimble to one end and shackle that end to the shank of the anchor. In the bitter end I tie a loop and drop it over the heavy Samson post near the cockpit and run the line out through the big bronze chalk. When the afternoon wind comes I shall only need row out and repeat yesterday’s performance. I am getting rather god at it.

I notice about this time that various cruising skippers have been watching me and wondering, of course, what on earth (or sea) I have been doing. Since I need to return some things to Rod on Maestra del Mar and Jack on Bella Via, I row around for a chat and to discuss various anchoring techniques. Of course, I am not really getting my painting finished. But this little cove is giving me a lesson or two about seamanship. Make your stern line much longer than you think you will need, and make the stern line as strong as your bow rode. Jack adds that I under no account should I use a chain attachment for a stern anchor. It is far too difficult to deal with in the dinghy when you row out and far too heavy to trail after you: you won’t be able to row far enough out because the weight of the chain will be too great. Nylon rode is best because it stretches and acts as a shock absorber. On the way back I stop near Steve and Bunky to tell them what has been going on. New cruisers should know that anchoring, mooring, and docking are basically spectator sports.

I do finally also get my non-skid painting done. When the wind has shifted to come from the beach again this afternoon, I will reset the stern anchor.


WHAT TO DO NOW? FROM THIS POINT IT GOES DOWNHILL; CRUISING TO ECUADOR; CHICA PERDITA
Melaque, Jalisco, Mexico, Tuesday, 07 February 2006

My painting and maintenance work on Vilisar is approaching a temporary end. Soon I can start stowing the paints and brushes and thinners, etc. back into the lazarette hatch or in the chest under the cockpit seat. When that happens I have no excuse for not sailing somewhere. As a “cruiser”, of course, I do not have to justify not going anywhere or not doing anything. On the other hand however, as a “voyager” I should be heading somewhere. The farther south I get the shorter will be Kathleen’s bus ride from the aeroporto in Mexico City. But there are a couple of overnight passages and my inertia is winning out. And this is after all a nice place to be.

We were sorry to hear that, due to a critical illness in the family, our friends from Evanston will not be coming to Acapulco at the end of March. Kathleen’s mother and sister will be there earlier. Maybe our friends from Ontario will make it down too before we push offshore for Ecuador. As far as sailing goes, I can wait until Kathy gets back and we can sail together to Acapulco.

After spending a couple of hours painting non-skid on caprail and aft deck this morning, I decide to row around the anchorage to visit and to find a sink plunger I can borrow to deal with my plugged-up galley sink - probably from throwing coffee dregs down there. Spent some time aboard S/V Star Path (Doug and his son, Wes, who is visiting from Alberta) and then talked to Steve and Bunky on their junk rig.

Star Path, built in Costa Rica, is very beautifully laid out with lots of varnished wood belowdecks. He wants some advice on how to perk up the varnished surfaces in the head; they are looking faded either from the sunlight coming through the open deck-hatch, or from the steam of the shower, or perhaps even from both. All the woodwork belowdecks is varnished and looks great except in the head (water and sunshine). Varnishing should not normally take much work inside since it only has to be renewed every few years or even less frequently since it is not exposed to the elements. But, in the head, he will have now to strip the old stuff, some of which is now also stained, and start from scratch (or scuff). Once he has ten coats of varnish on there he will not have to touch it again for years. On deck where he also has quite a bit of brightwork, however, he will have to expend some regular and frequent effort to keep things looking nice. I promised Doug to bring a couple of books over dealing with varnishing since he has no experience with this at all.

I personally think varnish looks great. But I myself use Cetol, a synthetic substitute because it lasts longer, needs no sanding between coats, and only a light scuffing up with a scratchy pad before applying it after a longer interval. It looks a little artificial or plastic-like and orangey to my eye. But it definitely looks good enough, provides good UV protection, and does not have to be renewed as often or babied as much as old-fashioned varnish. More importantly, Kathleen likes Cetol better than varnish. What else needs to be said?

When I arrive at Steve’s boat, he is at work making new sail covers for his junk sails. Interestingly, he has designed a sling that is attached to the lower-most batten of the sail and is held up by lazy jacks on either side of the flaked-down sails like a pouch. The sail is hoisted up between the lazy jacks, the sail coming right out of the sling; the latter hangs down out of the way while the sail is in use. When the sail is doused it falls into the cradle made up of the sling cum cover. No need to install twisties or stow the covers belowdecks when not in use. Steve opined that the system would work well with Vilisar’s rig. You never know what you will learn when you visit another boat.

From this point it goes downhill

So far the day has gone fairly well. I am due in Barra de Navidad at 1600 to meet the people off S/V Our Tern, who have recently arrived back from two years in Central America and Ecuador/Galapagos. I row back to Vilisar, get a bite to eat for lunch and, about 1300, head for shore in the dinghy. From this point the day goes temporarily downhill. There is surf running but nothing spectacular as I approach the beach. Under the expressionless gaze of several Mexican families, I turn around in the dinghy so I am facing the bow with the waves coming up behind me. I let several pass underneath me until I think the next set will be smaller, less likely to thrown me around. As one swell passes under me I start to row as fast as I can to ride it to shore. It might look small but it sweeps the dinghy much farther up the beach than previous waves appeared to be going. Suddenly the boat grounds in the sand and I am thrown forward. For some reason there is a set of three small but pernicious waves close together. The first wave having grounded me, the second hit the sterns with a splash that sloshes up and inboard and causes the dinghy to ride forward even more while slewing and leaning heavily to starboard and throwing me off balance just as I am trying to scramble out. At this point the third waves hits and really tips the boat to starboard, dumping me half into the muddy water, filling the dinghy with sand and water up to the seat and then, adding insult to injury, tries to suck the boat back out to sea with it. I manage to get my footing in the water and hold onto the dinghy for dear life. I drag the boat up onto the beach out of reach of successive waves. I am soaked from top to bottom though my sombrero is still dry and in place. The stuff I am carrying ashore I fortunately placed in a couple of plastic grocery bags before I left; this has kept them fairly though not perfectly dry. I consider returning to the Vilisar for dry clothing. But the day is warm and there is a nice breeze. I shall be dry in an hour or so. I pull out all the items and make sure they are dried off and then continue along the beach towards town. Maybe I have been getting too much sun but this has all depressed me. By the time I reach Barra by a local bus that pokes along through the barrios my cloths are almost dry and I am feeling a bit better. A cold beer while I talk with Vaughn and Natalie of S/V Our Tern does a lot to pick me up.

Cruising to Ecuador

There are several other people at the little get-together, principally Jens, Alice and Steven of S/V Veleda, and Al and his wife from S/V Morova. Vaughn provides us with information on a disc about Ecuador, Central America, and Galapagos. There is as yet no cruising guide for Ecuador so he and a few other cruisers made up one that includes entry requirements, facilities and navigation information (waypoints, anchorages, and the like). It also gives the latest information on cruising permits for Ecuador.

I am pleased to hear it when Natalie says that, were they to plan the trip again, they would go from Mexico to Ecuador for the northern summer and only return to Central America in the northern winter. They summered in Costa Rica, Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and Panama and barely survived the heat and humidity. Bahia de Caráquez in Ecuador, on the other hand, was like Mexico at this time of year (i.e. mid-winter): temperate. On top of this, Ecuador is very inexpensive as a place to live and travel and quite safe both on land and on the water. It is, of course, well out of the hurricane belt. They definitely recommend visiting Central America but not in the summer. It is too hot to do anything but stay in the shade.

Since there are several items on the disc about getting the proper cruising permits for the Galapagos, I immediately go to an internet café when I get back to Melaque and sent the relevant files to Kathleen in Germany. She is working on the permits.

Chica perdita

It is early evening but already dark while I am in the internet café. Like all the tiendes here, the front is open to the busy evening sidewalk scene. Near me a young American couple are sending and receiving email. They have a five-year-old daughter with them. At some point they realise the little girl is no longer in the shop. They rush out to the sidewalk and call her, first loudly and then panic-stricken. They begin to rush up and down the sidewalk looking in shops and calling her name. The young mother is instantly in tears and rushes into the internet café stridently ordering the young man running it to, “Call the police! Call the police right now!” The rest of us decide it is time we got involved too and try to get the mother to give us a description: “Small, five years old, pink bathing suit, dark hair.” That could be any of dozens of kids around here, of course. But I head back up the dark side street, asking women tending outdoor cooking stations and in little backstreet shops about a “chica perdita”. They have not seen her but start asking their little kids (many of who are female, about five years old and with dark hair).

After about twenty minutes, the father locates his daughter, who has taken a little sightseeing trip up to the corner and across the street and is playing with something in one of the souvenir shops and carrying on a cheerful conversation with the shopkeeper. All’s well that ends well. There were lots of people around and there was little or no traffic on the well-lit street.

I asked the mother a bit later after she had composed herself what exactly she most feared. She answered unhesitatingly, “Kidnapping! Perverted men!” Curiously, it was not being hit by a car or wandering off to the beach and being swept out to sea by one of the bigger waves and the undertow or even just looking around in the shops like everybody else around there. The Mexicans in the café are a little puzzled. But there are lots of people around and nothing much would happen to the kid, they think aloud. Are things so bad in America?

I remember when the mother of my children moved to New Orleans, she would not let the kids even play out on the veranda for fear of drive-by shootings and kidnappings. Forget about going to the park to play! There are of course horror stories about young girls being kidnapped. But statistically they are nowhere near as frequent as our fired-up imaginations believe. Children in big cities to the north are far more endangered if they are riding in car. Child abusers are mainly family members, male or female. I am not sure either that I like the fear that women automatically express about men, i.e. that we are all potentially abusers, beaters, sex-offenders. I guess since most people in Canada and the U.S.A. experience life outside their isolated suburban environment (single-family swelling, air-conditioned, locked up cars moving through the conurban sprawl, etc.) through television and since TV tends to focus on the shocking, child abuse, kidnappings, gruesome murder, that’s what they expect. Underneath their secure and cushy lives they have an underlying fear of begin attacked. There is a racist element to this too since white Americans subconsciously fear black men as well.

It all seems pretty sick from this distance. I am not saying that there is no abuse or violence in Mexico. Of course there is. So either you believe that suburban Americans are much more realistic and are not really as schizophrenic as I think they are. In that case, too, you have to believe Mexicans are only less stressed out about these things because either their society is less dangerous, or Mexicans are totally out of touch with reality.

“This blindness has affected US policy from prewar planning until today. It fails to see the humiliation that Iraqis feel every day at the sight of foreign troops. It ignores the anger produced by mass arrests, heavy-handed searching, night-time raids and excessive civilian deaths. It overlooks Iraqi suspicions about long-term US intentions, whether it is "control over our oil" or maintaining permanent bases. The insurgency will not just fade away. If Washington and London say otherwise they are producing one more lie in the catalogue of deception that has characterised this war. Only a process of negotiations can bring peace, as the British think tank Oxford Research Group argued this week in a blueprint for a settlement.”

-Jonathan Steele in The Guardian, 2006 01 16

SUPERBOWL SUNDAY; HOME-SCHOOLING AT SEA; MOLLY IVINS ARTICLE
Sunday, 05 February 2006

Superbowl Sunday

In the American liturgical year, this is Superbowl Sunday. Many cruisers have been excited about getting together for a viewing of the big game between the Seattle “Sea Hawks” and the Pittsburgh “Steelers”. I admit that I enjoy watching the occasional sports event on TV but cannot get excited about Superbowl. Interesting that, after Thanksgiving and Halloween, Superbowl Sunday is the third largest party day during the year. All of the big days are non-religious, though Thanksgiving, which has taken over from Christmas as the main time in the year when families get together while Halloween and Superbowl Sunday are get-togethers mainly with non-family members. The daily Cruisers Net here, boring at the best of times, has hit new levels of ennui with organising gatherings at restaurants with big TV and organising pools.

Home-schooling at sea

I finished off painting the cockpit area yesterday and decided to take a break. I had no real reason to go ashore except m=perhaps to post my blog. But in the vent I was too lazy, made the more slothful by my visit, first, to a junk-rigged schooner called from Comox with Spunky and Steve aboard. A couple glasses of ice-cold beer sapped any resolve I might have had. Later, I was invited over for a beer to S/V Maestra del Mar, Vancouver, B.C. by John and Charlotte. Originally from Penticton and Richmond, B.C., respectively, they took jobs as teachers on the Indian reserve at Bella Bella on the northern-British Columbia coast. Their relatively new aluminium sailboat of about 45 feet LOA looks both beautiful and strong. They have their two children aboard with them, Morgen (14) and Cary (11 or thereabouts). the parents are teachers and are now home-schooling the two kids.

Whereas US parents with children being homes-schooled aboard must pay for special curricula from private schools like The Calvert School, children of B.C. families get full taxpayer support for home-schooling. There is of course a long tradition here for kids living in remote areas of the province, in the far north, for example, or children of lighthouse-keepers, etc. Whereas Steven aboard Veleda keeps email contact with his tutor pr email, I think because their parents are themselves teachers, Morgen and Cary only need to do their examinations by email. British Columbia is not the only province that provides distance education, as it is rather awkwardly called. Manitoba I know does the same and other provinces probably as well. At the university level, many Canadian universities offer extension degrees not only to Canadians but to anyone who wishes to enrol.

We have noticed that children being schooled and raised aboard sailboats appear to us to be mature and responsible. Some of them might miss some friends back at school. But on the whole they seem to be getting a lot out of travelling, accepting some of the cruising duties like watch-keeping, spending a lot of time with their parents. The parents are glad their children are not wasting time in school-factories, being caught up in clothes, gossip and trivial music and, in some cases, drugs and violence. They might be missing some socialisation (dating, school dances) and some group activities like team sports or orchestra. But some children play musical instruments and they certainly live a healthy, outdoor life with lots of swimming, kayaking, surfboarding, and (of course) sailing. Children that have been educated at sea seem to have trouble adjusting back to the herd life in schools. But they have often also finished their schooling much earlier and can go on to other things of their choice.

Molly Ivins article

I found the attached article thought-provoking. Ivins’ sharp pen is a pleasure. She watched George Bush from her vantage point in Texas when the man was governor of the state. She warned even back then that he would be a disaster as president.


The Patriotic Bully Card
by Molly Ivins, January 20, 2006


AUSTIN, Texas --- I'd like to make it clear to the people who run the Democratic Party that I will not support Hillary Clinton for president.

Enough. Enough triangulation, calculation and equivocation. Enough clever straddling, enough not offending anyone. This is not a Dick Morris election. Sen. Clinton is apparently incapable of taking a clear stand on the war in Iraq, and that alone is enough to disqualify her. Her failure to speak out on Terri Schiavo, not to mention that gross pandering on flag-burning, are just contemptible little dodges.

The recent death of Gene McCarthy reminded me of a lesson I spent a long, long time unlearning, so now I have to re-learn it. It's about political courage and heroes, and when a country is desperate for leadership. There are times when regular politics will not do, and this is one of those times. There are times a country is so tired of bull that only the truth can provide relief.

If no one in conventional-wisdom politics has the courage to speak up and say what needs to be said, then you go out and find some obscure junior senator from Minnesota with the guts to do it. In 1968, Gene McCarthy was the little boy who said out loud, "Look, the emperor isn't wearing any clothes." Bobby Kennedy -- rough, tough Bobby Kennedy -- didn't do it. Just this quiet man trained by Benedictines who liked to quote poetry.

What kind of courage does it take, for mercy's sake? The majority of the American people (55 percent) think the war in Iraq is a mistake and that we should get out. The majority (65 percent) of the American people want single-payer health care and are willing to pay more taxes to get it. The majority (86 percent) of the American people favor raising the minimum wage. The majority of the American people (60 percent) favor repealing Bush's tax cuts, or at least those that go only to the rich. The majority (66 percent) wants to reduce the deficit not by cutting domestic spending, but by reducing Pentagon spending or raising taxes.
The majority (77 percent) thinks we should do "whatever it takes" to protect the environment. The majority (87 percent) thinks big oil companies are gouging consumers and would support a windfall profits tax. That is the center, you fools. WHO ARE YOU AFRAID OF?
I listen to people like Rahm Emanuel superciliously explaining elementary politics to us clueless naifs outside the Beltway ("First, you have to win elections.") Can't you even read the damn polls?

Here's a prize example by someone named Barry Casselman, who writes, "There is an invisible civil war in the Democratic Party, and it is between those who are attempting to satisfy the defeatist and pacifist left base of the party and those who are attempting to prepare the party for successful elections in 2006 and 2008."

This supposedly pits Howard Dean, Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi, emboldened by "a string of bad new from the Middle East ... into calling for premature retreat from Iraq," versus those pragmatic folk like Steny Hoyer, Rahm Emmanuel, Hillary Clinton, Joe Biden and Joe Lieberman.

Oh come on, people -- get a grip on the concept of leadership. Look at this war -- from the lies that led us into it, to the lies they continue to dump on us daily.
You sit there in Washington so frightened of the big, bad Republican machine you have no idea what people are thinking. I'm telling you right now, Tom DeLay is going to lose in his district. If Democrats in Washington haven't got enough sense to OWN the issue of political reform, I give up on them entirely.

Do it all, go long, go for public campaign financing for Congress. I'm serious as a stroke about this -- that is the only reform that will work, and you know it, as well as everyone else who's ever studied this. Do all the goo-goo stuff everybody has made fun of all these years: embrace redistricting reform, electoral reform, House rules changes, the whole package. Put up, or shut up. Own this issue, or let Jack Abramoff politics continue to run your town.

Bush, Cheney and Co. will continue to play the patriotic bully card just as long as you let them. I've said it before: War brings out the patriotic bullies. In World War I, they went around kicking dachshunds on the grounds that dachshunds were "German dogs." They did not, however, go around kicking German shepherds. The MINUTE someone impugns your patriotism for opposing this war, turn on them like a snarling dog and explain what loving your country really means. That, or you could just piss on them elegantly, as Rep. John Murtha did. Or eviscerate them with wit (look up Mark Twain on the war in the Philippines). Or point out the latest in the endless "string of bad news."

Do not sit there cowering and pretending the only way to win is as Republican-lite. If the Washington-based party can't get up and fight, we'll find someone who can.

BARRA THOUGHTS ON ZEN AND THE ART OF BOAT MAINTENANCE;
ON HARPER AND THE CANADIAN FUTURE; DAY-TO-DAY IN BARRA DE NAVIDAD; SOLO SAILING TO TENACATITA; TENACATITA BAY; THE AQUARIUM; “THE JUNGLE TOUR”; SALAD DAYS IN TENACATITA; BACK TO MALAQUE

Barra thoughts on Zen and the art of boat maintenance
Barra de Navidad, Jalisco, Mexico, Monday, 23 January 2006

I was foiled yesterday in getting my blog posted at the Sands Hotel in Barra de Navidad. I took my laptop in with me also to get a full charge on it. But I never found a wi-fi signal and, since I was a passenger in someone else’s motorboat, I did not have the time to go to an internet café and blog. I really miss having a flash memory since I can then write on the boat and take only the flash stick ashore with the blog already written and only needing to be posted. There is also a lot less risk involved in sticking a flash stick into your pocket, possibly in a Ziploc-type bag; the dangers of carrying a laptop ashore were brought all to forcefully home to me yesterday when the inflatable in which I riding took a big sloppy wash from a passing panga over the bow. The wave splashed copiously over the contents of our boat. Fortunately, before leaving I had placed the laptop in a plastic laundry bag; although a little water got inside, no damage was done this time.

I worked for a while on the computer at the hotel hoping that I would at some point get a wi-fi signal. It never came and I dashed up to the internet café to check if I had heard from Kathleen or gotten translating work before making a quick trip to the butchers. Back at the boat I decided that, with only $ 10 left till month-end, there was not much point in going ashore for the moment. I had better aboard and get my painting and other jobs done so I could leave soon.

The gusty northwest winds of last week have disappeared. If there is any wind it is very light and as likely as not from the southwest. Working around the boat is hot now, hotter than almost any day on the Straits of Georgia in British-Columbian summer. At times like these it is best to adopt a Zen-like approach to motorcycle and boat maintenance. Organise some work and let your mind slip into a semi—detached state. In the morning now I do some yoga stretching exercises, which, though seemingly undemanding, have made me stiff at midday and tired earlier in the evening. I play opera recording while I am working, take a break in the early afternoon to have a sandwich and something to drink, and to do some writing.

Yesterday I scraped both of our battered oars in preparation for coating. These have seen a lot of action and the tips of the blades are rough and most of the paint is gone. Scraping the oars removes about 60 percent of the old white paint. I sand them and intend to apply a coat of sealant to the bare ash-wood when I accidentally flip the sanding sponge over the side and fish it out without thinking first with an oar. It was after all the handiest thing available. Of course, now the blade is damp and I cannot put the sealant on tonight. I put them out to dry and will do them in the morning. This gets done this morning and I hope to get a coat of paint on them as well.

This morning too I sand all around the aft deck and apply a coat of light grey paint to the caprail. I debate about painting the caprail all round but for the life of me I cannot find the jug of fine sand that I want to spread on the wet paint to prevent slipperiness underfoot. I know it’s aboard here somewhere because I saw it only a day or two ago. But where has it got to? My Zen mood vanishes in a moment of frustration. Up till then I am pretty cool and enjoying the work despite the heat. After my noon break I shall paint the oars, paint the white trim on tow teak hatchcovers, the lazarette and forecastle hatchcovers, and get a second coat of paint on the dinghy seat which has remained unpainted since I made this replacement for the seat lost when the dinghy flipped off the Pacific coast of Baja California last February.

Last evening Jens and Alice of Veleda invited me over for a beer. After saying yes I had to back out because the oars were drying and I had no means of propulsion. They are going to pick me up later this afternoon and take me over. We are thinking of leaving together along with Curt of Sea Reach for Tenacatita on Wednesday. I have a lot to get done before then.

At night the lagoon is beautifully quiet. The stars are extremely bright and there is a little forest of disembodied masthead and anchor lights from the now twenty boats in here; except for the closest ones, I cannot see the boats themselves. After my dinner, I sit outside with a beer and a cigar contemplating my day’s work until I feel weary enough to stretch out on the starboard berth intending to read. It is warm enough the last two nights to make a blanket unnecessary until at least early morning. Inside the cabin it is so dark that I cannot see my hand in front of my face. In the far distance, a mile away, fireworks go off around 2200; I get up to watch and count five or six seconds between burst and sound. They must be coming from Melaque across the bay. I hear disco music too but it is far away and not disturbing (these beach discos and bars are a total nuisance to cruisers in Mexico; Mexicans seem to accept high levels of noise at any time but I am surprised that neighbouring hoteliers don’t complain.) I return to my bed and my book but the intention to read goes the way of my earlier Zen mood and I drift off.

I awaken around 0300, unable to sleep any longer. This is not uncommon for me; it’s probably and “Alterserscheinung” (an indication of old age). Lights go out about 2130 and I am normally awake again around 0300. I have learned not to regret this quiet time, to welcome it now even, for reading or, if the laptop battery will permit, for writing. I normally first go on deck to pay a visit to the leeward shrouds. Tonight again, as usual, I contemplate the constellations, fiery bright in the blue-black heavens, and notice that a last-quarter moon is rising in the southeastern sky. It lays a silver path through the silhouetted sailboats directly to Vilisar. The disco music is still going strong but far away.

Down below I dig out Jimmy Cornell’s World Cruising Routes to read some more about the voyage to Ecuador. I heard of one boat headed that way in February and wonder if we are leaving things too late of we go in early April. The other boat intends to stop at Islas Cocos, a group of islands belonging to Costa Rica and on the rhumb line to Ecuador (but a little to the east of a rhumb line aimed at the Galapagos Archipelago). The Cocos are some 600 miles offshore. I try in vain to find something about the Cocos Islands. I drag out the British Admiralty Ocean Passages for the World and flip to the section at the back for sailing vessels. This is section was the whole book until the advent of motor vessels. It’s fascinating to read today since a copy was on every rigged merchantman and warship in the great days of sail. I also unfold all six of the charts and diagrams in the packet that comes with the book. However, the Cocos are barely mentioned here either so I have no idea if you can land there, if they have water and fuel available to us, important considerations for us. We may, after all, have to motor a large part of this trip given the contrary winds and the fact that the Doldrums, that squally belt of contrary or absent winds just above the equator that moves north in the spring and summer. Currents are erratic in this region as well so we need to be prepared. Perhaps it would be better to sail to Ecuador via the Cocos rather than directly to the Galapagos, which we can then visit when we eventually cross to French Polynesia.

Then of course, there is the matter of money. In the middle of the night all worries get a little bigger. I normally avoid troublesome thought during dark hours. But tonight they get to me. I wonder how we can afford flying three kids this summer back and forth and whether we can afford the cruising permits and visas for the Arche de Colón (Galapagos Islands). Obviously this will require some tight planning. Better to do it in the daytime though. Better yet, I shall get Kathleen working on this problem. She’s better at it. I go back to reading C.S. Forester’s The Hornblower Companion, especially the long essay on how he came to write the series and how he goes about actually creating a novel. Very interesting and makes me want to write one too. I have known that feeling before but have never come up with a good idea. Maybe I should be less ambitious and just write a short story or an essay. Actually, now that I think of it, I have a good story about trade financing, believe it or not. I wonder if I could work it up and where I could do the research for it. Best just to start.

On Harper and the Canadian future; Day-to-day in Barra de Navidad
Barra de Navidad, Jalisco, Mexico, Wednesday, 25 January 2006

On Harper and the Canadian Future

The voters in Canada earlier this week turfed out the now sclerotic Liberal-Party, party that had learned, one would have thought, how to juggle the many facets of maintaining power in a decentralised country like Canada. The Liberals were caught in a payola scandal and seemed to have no clear policies any more beyond self-perpetuation and self-enhancement. It was time for them to go and the voters basically voted against them.

It remains to be seen whether with the resignation of Liberal Prime Minster Paul Martin and the Governor General’s request of young and brash Stephen Harper will be more to the electorate’s taste. The Conservative Party, once a national party had shrunk over the last generation to a rump party. In desperation it amalgamated with the Reform Party, a “neo-conservative”, “Christian” and “free-enterprise party that grew up in the West, mainly Alberta and British Columbia, which historically have been the cradle of bizarre political credos like Social Credit (don’t ask what it is; it’s so way out that even the Social Credit Parties have long since abandoned it intellectual roots).

If the Conservative cum Reform Party had gotten a large majority - in fact, they are the largest party but cannot forge a clear majority over all other parties in the House of Commons- there programme would have included a dismantling of the social welfare, national health care and national pension fund. It would also have aligned Canada more closely with the U.S.A. (Harper has stated that Canada should have been in Iraq at America’s side). With a minority government the Conservatives will be dependent upon other parties for support to get legislation through. Most importantly, the Conservatives do not, I believe, have deep support from Quebec; without it, it becomes impossible to deal with the French-English fissures in Canada’s political landscape.

It is also quite unlikely that the Liberals will support them. that party will now go through a purging of the Old Guard and a leadership convention (Michael Ignatieff is touted as a left-wing candidate after his handy win in a Toronto riding; he has a lot of cosmopolitan charm and intellectual credentials as well as being a TV-news moderator and therefore with face appeal). But expect the Liberals to keep their distance from the Government while they nurse their wounds and rebuild the party and its finances. Since the Conservatives are now required to expose their “idealistic” programmes to parliamentary scrutiny, since they are novices in government after so many years in the wilderness, The Liberal Party will probably take a high moral line while praying Harper’s government self-destructs.

Beyond the Liberal Party in Parliament, there is the Bloc Quebecois, a nationalist party from the Province de Québec, as the next largest grouping. They may give tacit support to the Government on some issues provided they get something specifically for Quebec. The voters in the province did not give the party the same wholehearted approval that they received in the past perhaps indicating that independence is no longer holds the same fascination as it did twenty years ago. Any dismantling of the social contract is unlikely however to be attractive to Quebecers since they province has wrested so many goodies from the rest of Canada that they would be cutting off the nose to spite the face if they were to get off the gravy train. Separtistes have always argued – to Quebecers - that they could have it both ways: the goodies AND independence. The rest of Canada laughed behind their hands so as not to appear patronising to their French-Canadian fellow citizens.

Finally, there is the good old New Democratic Party. It holds, I think, 29 seats (Bloc Quebecois holds 50 plus and there is one independent MP). I have not got all the arithmetic at hand. But I am not sure if the Conservatives plus the NDP could trump all other parties. I think not. And in any case, nothing could be farther from this Prairie-agrarian/eastern labour-union merger than a neo-conservative agenda so similar and so close to George W. Bush that people have already been saying of Harper he will be competing for kennel room with lead-poodle to the U.S.A., Tony Blair.

Canadian independence is anyway a dodgy thing, living as the country does next to the American giant. I have not noticed any strong tendency for union with the U.S.A. although some Westerners, when they feel hard done by as Quebec gets all the goodies, do raise the spectre and keep the topic alive. The national view of Canada is cradled in Ontario and, to a certain degree in Quebec (the non-nationalist cum independence portion). The West has always felt hard done by and to be sure they are in many ways. Alberta and B.C. oil gives them some cards to play.

But the north-south pull is still tremendous. Behind the scenes, Canadian strategic thinkers must worry about how attractive Canadian natural resources are to Americans: including the oil sands in the West, Canada is now rated as the country with the second-largest proven reserves of oil in the world after Saudi Arabia; even Canada’s huge resources of fresh water and electricity are attractive to a country unwilling to live on its own means. When will Americans resurrect the idea of Manifest Destiny and look north over the border. If they can talk themselves into attacking Iraq in order to take a physical stake in the Middle East, willing to expend American blood in Middle-Eastern entanglements, why would they not just as easily convince themselves that Canada needs the protection of American boots-on-the-ground? Most Americans I know scoff at this idea. But they came to scoff at George BW. Bush and Iraq and stayed to stare in amazement. There are some Quisling elements in Canada: Alberta has always been very pro-American; the Bay-Street business crowd is so integrated in cross-border business that it might not be hostile to a merger.

That said, most Canadians, I believe, want to maintain their distinctive institutions and worldview, however much they may resemble Americans in general and like them individually. Having ridden themselves of their priest decades ago, do Quebecers now, do secular English Canadians now want Bible-backed political hectoring by rural, hang ‘em and flog ‘em MP’s from the shires? Will there be a backlash against a neo-conservative government under Harper as he lays out his neo-conservative programme? Canadians generally I think have been astonished by the neo-conservative programme in the U.S.A. including its imperial overseas policies. The graft and corruption scandals currently getting an airing in neo-conservative dominated Washington are not likely to make neo-conservative, Bible-thumping ideas more appealing to Canadian voters. Also, there are many recent European and Asian immigrants to Canada with anything but fundamentalist Christian views. Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver are cosmopolitan and outward looking compared to the Canadian Prairies, or rural Ontario and interior British Columbia.

Day to day in Barra de Navidad

My days are not all that long, in fact. It is still essentially dark at 0700 and the sun comes up about 0745. By 1900 it is pitch dark again. The hours between sunup and sunset still have not reached twelve and the days are currently only lengthening at a rate of lest than a minutes a day. Cruisers tend to be like farmers; they get and go to bed more-or-less with the sun. Social activities frequently happen in the late afternoon and people are back on their bots by dark. That makes finding their anchored yacht easier; when the suns goes down this can be a problem.

I generally follow the same schedule. I am up with the sun and, normally turn off my reading light by 2130. I make coffee in the morning and either go out to the cockpit to drink it or continue reading while I sip. There is a Cruisers Net on VHF in Bare and Tenacatita at 0900 by which time I am normally already busy if I have plans for the day. The net is so excrutiatingly boring that some mornings I switch it off after the tides and weather have been given (The weather forecasts are apparently to particularly meant for voyagers. It often consists of superficial statements like, “It’s going to be another sunny day.” I guess real cruisers listen to the ham or SSB weather, especially to Don on S/V Summer Sausage.)

I try to get my boat work done before noon and do some writing in the afternoon when the solar panels can deliver good wattage. AT present I am doing a lot of painting and varnishing. All the relevant storage holds have been unpacked and there are cans of paint and brushes and rags and boxes spread all round the cockpit area.

Painting has several stages: preparation, i.e. sanding and scraping; and, the actually painting of up to three daily coats. Once you start you have to be at it for days. Once you have wet paint around you can’t start sanding somewhere else or your paint and varnish will be ruined. If the sun is too hot the newly-varnished or painted surfaces will dry too quickly and then blister as the gasses underneath the hard surface expand.

Then there is the problem of cleaning brushes. Throw-away brushes are handy although they are definitely not as good for holding the paint, preventing drips, or applying even coats. The hairs also loosen and get in the paint. But they are at least disposable. In a home workshop you can clean brushes properly and keep them in proper containers to keep them soft. This is almost impossible on a boat. I use disposable brushes if I have them.

You have to learn to like this painting and mostly I am content with it. But now I have had enough for a while. I get into Barra de Navidad every couple of days; in fact, I could cadge a lift daily with Jens and his family from S/V Veleda, or Curt off S/V Sea Reach. But if I go to town half of my working day on the boat is shot and I need to get stuff done and the materials stowed again.

Jens and Curt were going to leave for Tenacatita today and had invited me to go along: a little Canadian flotilla since Veleda and Vilisar are from Victoria and Sea Reach is from Prince Rupert. But Don’s weather forecast on Tuesday night promised 20-30 knot easterlies. I thought this would be great. But the other two skippers have decided that the risk is too great and we should all wait another day. We shall probably be motoring the whole way! Good thing I didn’t put my painting stuff away; I can finish some stuff today and put everything away at dusk.

SOLO SAILING TO TENACATITA
Thursday, 26 January 2006

I am awake at dawn and, after making my coffee, I start final measures for getting under way. The cabin interior is quickly done; on deck I get the awing in and strip the sail covers off and throw everything into the forecastle through the foreward hatch. I have decided to tow the dinghy; it is only about 12 Nm and it looks pretty calm.

In fact, as I start the engine and get in the anchor, it is dead calm in the lagoon. Veleda is already on the way out and Curt is fiddling with his anchor on Sea Reach. I follow Veleda at a distance into the dredged channel, determined not to run aground as we did coming in. I try to stay under 1.5 knots, often slipping the engine into neutral and coasting so as not to build up speed. At one point I am overtaken by Curt who says his transmission will not allow him to go that slow.

Just before the final exit into the Pacific Ocean swells, I coast while I put up the main- and staysails. Outside there is a gentle and slow swell and I head due West into them at about 4.5 knots. The bottom did pick up a bit of marine growth in the lagoon though, as far as I can see, no barnacles. My speed does not seem to be impaired, at least, and a few hours of sailing will help to clean things off.

Sea Reach has stopped ahead of me. As I near him Curt says his inflatable dinghy came untied and he had to rescue it and retie it securely. After that he follows me at a distance of several hundred yards. He has automatic pilot, I suppose, while I make due with bungee cords tied to the tiller. I really must get that Navico 5500 tiller pilot adapted to our boat. Bungee is all right for a few minutes so you can dart down below and get another cuppa. But the boat tends to wander off course and there has to be a helmsman to correct it.

It is about five miles to the waypoint off the rocky point. I recall that there is a submerged rock off the point and to leave lots of berth. I continue reading my latest Hornblower novel (Ship of the Line) and almost forget about the rock until, looking up, I realise we are near the point and, just then, I see the waves washing slowly over the rock. I turn more to port to avoid an embarrassing scene. Ahead of me at least a mile, Veleda has rounded the point much farther out and is no heading north into Tenacatita Bay.

At the waypoint, I turn Vilisar north as well. By this time it is after 1100 and a southwesterly breeze has picked up. The main and staysail are already up and I put the engine in neutral for a few minutes to see if I can sail. Definitely! There must be about 10 knots of quartering wind. I lash the tiller down, sheet in the jib and go forward to hoist the jibsail. Back in the cockpit the GPS tells me we have picked up speed to 3 knots. After that it wavers between 2.5 and 4.5 going the final five miles into the anchorage. The engine is off and I am enjoying the feel of the swells and the wind and the sun after two weeks in the lagoon. The day began with some high clouds (at night we have been hearing thunder and seeing lightening inland from the coats and the air has a heavy feel to it). But now the afternoon winds have picked up and life is good again. Not a paintbrush in sight. I admire while I test the foot-support I have place on the cockpit floor at Kathleen’s request. When she is fighting the tiller and the boat is heeled sharply, she cannot reach the far seat to brace herself. Obviously this cockpit was not meant for petite ladies. She will be pleased since I have been promising to make it for months if not years. (I took a piece of hardwood about 18” x 1½“ x 1½”, one of the scrap pieces of hardwood I have been carrying around since we house-sat for a builder of weaving looms in Port Townsend, Washington, back at the beginning of 2002. It is probably oak but might be some other sort of hardwood like cherry. It was unfinished so I roughed it up a bit with 80 grit sandpaper and then scraped and sanded the paint off the centre of the cockpit sole. Then I mixed up some epoxy and smeared the underside of the wood and pressed into place on the bare spot. It will take dynamite to get it off now so I hope Kathleen approves of it. It will get painted when I redo the cockpit area and that will happen when I can find the jug of fine sand for non-skid.)

When I have finished setting and tweaking the sails, I look ahead to see that Veleda has stopped about a mile ahead of me. She is just bobbing up and down in the water. Sea Reach has passed me motorsailing. As Curt comes level with Veleda I see through the binoculars that he has wound in his big Genoa (I have noticed that many boats apparently find it simpler just to unfurl their genoas and not bother with the mainsail. Probably the headsail is easier to do than hauling up a mainsail.) Then I noticed that Sea Reach has taken Veleda under tow. I try to call Veleda on VHF to find out what’s up but Curt answers me to say that Veleda was taking water through the exhaust system and the water was beginning to fill up the boat. Jens requested a tow into Tenacatita. It seems strange that a perfectly viable sailboat would need a tow because its engine doesn’t work. I am making between 3.5 and 4.5 knots and I am definitely slower than Veleda under sail. But there you go. They make good speed under tow and arrive in the anchorage before me.

When alone aboard Vilisar, getting sail down is a bigger challenge than getting sails up. Usually you can get sail up in the early hours while the morning winds are very light or non-existent. Getting them down in the afternoon is a bigger challenge because the wind has picked up and the boat does not want to stay up in the wind without a helmsman. Fortunately, today’s winds (and waves) are relatively light. While we are still running nearly downwind into the Bahia, I go forward and drop the jibsail onto the foredeck while the sail is masked by the big mainsail. I lash it down quickly with one or two sail ties. After the turn to port around Central Rock puts us on a beam reach, I steer for the cluster of anchored boats about half a mile ahead. Eventually, I push Vilisar up into the wind, lash her tiller, scramble forward to drop the mainsail, grab the sail ties and do a very quick-and-dirty furling job (harbour furling will have to wait till I arrive), and spring nimbly back to the cockpit to turn the boat back on to it course to the anchorage.

We are moving much slower now under staysail alone. I steer for the left-hand side where I see there is the least wave action even though Veleda and Sea Reach have anchored much farther to the north along the beach. I also notice that the boats are rolling over there and I don’t want to be there. I decide finally to start the engine and chug in with all the sails down. This is my first time here and there are just too many boats around; I do not want any accidents. Very soon I have the anchor down in 2 ½ fathoms and lay our 10 fathoms of chains. That should hold it. The anchor bites at first go.

I realise suddenly how hot and tired I am after a long half-day out on the water. I would really like a beer but reckon, first, that it is too early in the day, and, second, that I have to ration them anyway until month-end when I can get some money. Despite my weariness, I drag the swim ladder out of the forecastle and set it; I begin to look forward to a refreshing swim after the swim-less two weeks in the Barra lagoon. Then I pull dig out the sail covers and the awning and get them rigged. I do this without too much debate with my innere Schweinehund though it keeps whispering in my ear, “Well done, Old Chap! Have a rest and a beer!” The sun is getting hot and, without the awning, there won’t be any rest anyway. I plug my ears, figuratively. With everything covered, the awning in place and even the anchor ball hoisted, I strip off my shorts and dive over the side. Super! I’ve arrived.

TENACATITA BAY; THE AQUARIUM; “THE JUNGLE TOUR”
Bahia Tenacatita, Sunday, 29 January 2006

Tenacatita Bay

Some cruisers think that Tenacatita Bay is the no plus ultra in Mexican cruising. And, of course, it’s very nice. The bay is well protected, the surf on the beach is moderate, the weather in January is warm, the water refreshing and teeming with Dorado and other fish. The cruising couples, exclusively US and Canadian with occasional Englishmen on boats bought in California. There are little cruiser activities like a swim ashore form one sailboat everyday, botchie ball on the beach and beer in the palapa afterwards. It is a beach holiday, not too harried and the people are friendly. It is all a bit suburban but a chance to meet some cruisers, if that what you’ve mind to do.

I met David and Judy Lloyd from Kelowna, British Columbia, on the new catamaran called Deja Too that David built himself. It is fast and roomy. David is a high-energy fifty-something with a high adrenaline level that needs plenty of long-distance running, mountain-climbing, surfing, and whatever else that requires the expenditure of energy. Judy is a professional accountant and no slouch when it comes to running, swimming and hiking. I was interested to hear that he was a stay-at-home Dad and raised two kids along with building the boat. She also did a volunteer stint in Kenya advising villagers on how to market their agricultural projects. It made me want investigate volunteer projects for the periods of the year when we are not actually sailing.

I also met John and Donna aboard S/V Cohilo, Hans-Christian double-ender out of Seattle. Long before meeting John, Donna had once had own catamaran. There next stop is Palmira Island, an American “protectorate” some 1,000 miles due south of Hawaii. It was the deserted atoll that was the scene of a grisly murder some years back when one cruising couple was murdered by another and their boat stolen. Actually, the man was convicted of the murder and his wife/girlfriend got off by convincing a jury that she had known nothing of the deed at all. John and Donna would be caretakers there for six months on behalf of the Nature Conservancy, I think. It might be a bit remote and off the beaten track for me but, after Rancho el Nogal, who knows. John borrowed my British Admiralty Ocean Passages for the World and lent me his Virtual Passage Planner.

I also ran into Carl from S/V Voyage, San Francisco. We met him and his wife Julie in Mazatlán. At first I recognised his face in a group of cruisers but could not for the life of me place him. Later he came by in his dinghy and refreshed my aging memory. This is somewhat worrying since I wanted to recall and, once he nudged me a bit, it all fell back into place. A really nice couple that it would be nice to stay in contact with.

Our friends, Jens, Alice and their son Steven are here aboard S/V Veleda and so is my new acquaintance, Curt, aboard his 41-footer, S/V Sea Reach.

There is a lot of talk amongst the cruisers of their voyaging plans. Some are heading away from Mexico, most of them to French Polynesia in March or April while others, like us, are heading for Ecuador/ Galapagos, or Central America, chiefly Costa Rica. One or two, like Carl for instance, is planning to return to California. Carl is going to sail back in late June or July when he should have following southerlies for much of the trip and still be ahead of the summer tropical storms. Many others will head back to the Sea of Cortés; they are already starting north. A few will attend the so-called SAIL FEST in Zehuateneo, a charity event lasting a week and made up of regattas, dinners, parties, and lectures. Mainly parties, I think. Then they will head back north.

We are still planning on sailing to Ecuador. The open questions are how much motoring we will have to and are able to do and whether we can carry or get enough fuel. A direct sail in one thing, a stop at the Galapagos is another and a stop at the Cocos Islands off Costa Rica the final. Of course, it’s possible to do them all. We shall see. We are planning a week in Acapulco with friends from Evanston in a time-share apartment before jumping offshore. The whole passage is much on my mind at present and I am attending to a lot of little projects on the boat to prepare.

I shall likely stay here until Tuesday or Wednesday before returning to Barra de Navidad to check emails and see if I have any money on the bank account. I need to re-provision and perhaps refuel and at present I am, shall we say, cash poor. Then I shall jump off for Zehuateneo and stops between. There is at least one overnighter to be done.

“The Aquarium”

Yesterday I rode with Curt in his dinghy and Jens et alia followed in their inflatable dinghy. We went round the point and over to the “Outer Anchorage” where Kathleen and I had anchored on the way to Barra de Navidad. The reef right next to where we anchored then is called The Aquarium by the local cruisers because of the huge numbers and varieties of tropical fish there.

I wore the broken face mask that I have to keep against my face with one hand while swimming. It was a bit annoying but I enjoyed the hour in the water before I got too cold and came out. And it’s true: there are lots of colourful fish and in great number. It was fun to feel the Pacific-Ocean surges and slide right up to the fish. I saw needle fish, angel fish, sergeant-major fish, and many, many more, too many for me to name or describe in a short essay. This was basically only my second time snorkelling and I intend now to get a proper face mask for this. It will also be useful for cleaning the propeller and boat bottom.

In the morning yesterday I started my sail-repair project. The mainsail is held to both the boom and the mast by synthetic tapes that attach to little bronze slides. Like the stitching in the Dacron sails, these tapes have begun to rot through and, by the time I came over from Barrad de Navidad, there were four more hanging uselessly along with the three others we had when we arrived. It was trial and error. The first try using normal, 1-ounce Dacron sail thread was clearly not going to be stout enough. I switched to whipping twine and that worked fine. Then, with some patience, after getting the sail off the mast (though not the boom), I spread the sail out on the cabin roof and got sewing. Another job well done by Captain Ronnie; Boy Spot-Welding King of the World; Captain Epoxy!

“The Jungle Tour”

This morning was out date for “The Jungle Tour”, as the cruisers call it. There is a huge mangrove section behind the beach and the tide floods it twice daily. Where the brackish water enters and exits is at the beach near where Vilisar lies anchored. We took the same two dinghies and motored the 5 kilometres up the creek that leads to the lagoon behind the Outer Anchorage. At one point the trees were growing right over our heads. Fortunately, someone, probably panga fishermen who keep their boats in the lagoon, had trimmed back branches to allow passage. The flooding tide made for quite a strong current and it was difficult to guide the flat-bottomed inflatable dinghies while being pushed by water moving at 2 or 3 knots. There was some wildlife but surprisingly little. Curt said he had rowed up there one midday and saw quite a lot more. Today is Sunday and there were quite a few boats up in there, Mexican pangas and cruiser’s dinghies. Perhaps we frightened the birds away. We did see snowy egrets and nesting pelicans, however.

Salad Days in Tenacatita Bay
Bahia de Tenacatita, Tuesday, 31 January 2006

This is I guess what people imagine a cruising holiday in Mexico to be. I spend my leisurely days puttering around the boat, undertaking little visiting expeditions to other boats to chat and have a drink, or I row ashore to the palm-thatched palapa where I often find other cruisers to chat with. There are always about two dozen boats anchored here in the bay though there is also a steady coming and going, mostly to/from Barra de Navidad to replenish, refuel or check emails. The daytime temperatures are in the high 70’s F ° or low 80’s F ° and nights are warm enough to get through most of the night without a blanket. The days are lengthening slowly but noticeably and now the sun pops over the mountains to the ESE at around
0730 and sets behind the hills to the WSW at around 1845. We are cooled by gentle land-and-sea breezes each day. It’s beginning to feel hot in the direct sunshine. But the breezes are cooling and the water is so clear and inviting it is hard to resist jumping in for a refreshing splash. I fail to resist several times daily, in fact. Since there are enough boats nearby I have given up skinny-dipping; don’t want to frighten the children.

You can tell the number of pensioners and social-security recipients by how many boats are leaving today or tomorrow for Barra de Navidad, twelve sea miles away around the point. In the money again!

This includes yours truly! I am totally out of cash and nearly out of provisions again though I could probably live from spaghetti, baked bread, pancakes and some tinned goods. I have not been assiduous about catching fish though the bay literally teems with them. I find lots of little needle-nosed silver fish in my dinghy each morning that I use for bait. I always have a couple of hooks hanging over the side. Too passive this fishing, I supsect. When they are being chased by bigger fish like groupers of Dorado’s, swarms of bait-fish leap out of the water, attracting the pelicans and boobies who go into feeding frenzies. When some other boater crows over the vhf that he has just caught a mahi-mahi off the boat, I suddenly see men appearing on decks of sailboats around the anchorage with fishing rods in the hand. I can see the swarms of bait fish around my boat and not infrequently I can clearly see pairs of groupers or Dorado’s chasing them. Big and small, they roil the water with the hunt. Pelicans crash dive and boobies shoot deep into the water to pop up a few seconds later with a flash of silver in the beak. Although we have occasionally caught a fish when we are out sailing and trolling a lure, our most conspicuous successes in hunting-and-gathering have been when other more successful fishermen catch too much and make a gift of a nice tuna or Dorado to the crew of Vilisar. With only one person aboard, a kilo of meat would be more than enough for a big meal and some left over.

I myself might actually have left today with Veleda. But I wanted to put another couple of coats of finish on the hatchcover and the aft-deck brightwork and the first gloss coat. That’s done now (Monday afternoon). After a visit from another cruiser (Al aboard S/V Monrova, Vancouver, B.C.), I pull up the cabin sole to address the water leak under the starboard settee. A few days ago I was sure it was coming slowly through a seam in the planking. But today I realise it is a slow leak from the freshwater tank. So I get out underwater putty, mix it up in my fingers like play dough and pack some around the inside of the water through-hull inside the water tank. I mop up any water in the bilge and put a fan down there to see if it will dry up. After a few hours I can see that although the water drip has slowed it is still coming. I pack putty around the outside corner of the tank where I suspect there is a hairline fracture. Now as I sit at the cabin table, listening to duets sung by Rita Streich and Maureen Forrester and writing this, I see that the bilge under the tank is staying dry. Otherwise the bilge is dry except right aft under the engine and the water level there is so low that I cannot pump it out. So, another success story for Captain Ronnie: Boy Spot-Welding King-of-the-World; Captain Epoxy! I shall leave the cabin sole open till dark to give it a good drying and a good airing.

And now here is another piece of good news: While I was searching for the net dip so I could start slushing the rig, I accidentally ran across the big jar of sand that I need for the non-skid in the cockpit. Hurrah! It has gone missing. Of course I didn’t find the net dip so I guess the trick is to search for something else and the net dip will miraculously turn up. I have no idea why it can be so easy to loose things on a small boat. Quien sabe!

There is a lovely afternoon sea breeze at present why the three sailboats have just come in from Barra de Navidad without their sails up. It is basically a perfect sailing day. I shall get all the painting stuff put away, the awning and sail-covers stored before the heavy dew sets tonight and try to sail out of here on the NE land breeze that blows around dawn. Maybe I shall be turning to the SE around the point way out there and pick up the later morning land breezes for the five-mile shot to Barra de Navidad.

Last night I paid a visit to Chris and Heather (and their two Portuguese water dogs) aboard S/V Legacy. A really nice couple from Juneau, Alaska, which is why I went over: Vilisar’s home port used to be Juneau when the vessel was a USCG-documented boat belonging to Joe May up in Clarence Strait. Chris had heard of Joe but did not know him.

We discussed sailing plans; they are thinking of going through the Panama Canal to the Caribbean since, with the dogs, they would not be welcomed in the South Pacific or New Zealand and they do not want to the leave them in a boarding kennel for so long. They also told me that Zehuateneo, a couple days of sailing to the south, is noticeably hotter than Tenacatita, on the average about 10 ° F hotter, and therefore up into the nineties each afternoon. The SAIL FEST over, most of the cruising boats either head north again or offshore to French Polynesia. Some, of course, head for Costa Rica where they leave their boats and go home. That’s what Chris and Heather are planning, I think. They also pointed me to a website called “Southbounder” where cruisers themselves add the latest information about harbours and seas. There might be some stuff about Ecuador and the Galapagos. Chris put all the emails on a disk for me to read at my leisure (Leisure! Who has leisure around here?!). To sign up for it you have to email eric@sulaadventures.com. He screens submissions for spam and viruses.

The last few days have been mildly overcast with high thin clouds. Today is clear again so I decided to use the strong solar-panel input to write. First, I wrote up a basic Sail Plan outline that included the detailed description of the vessel and all her systems (ground tackle, rig, sails, colours, auxiliary power, pumps, communications, lights, life-raft, etc.) in preparation for our 2-3 week offshore cruise to Ecuador in early April. I only need to add the dates and destination of any voyage along with the crewmen and all their personnel details (DOB, NOK, medical conditions, etc.). If our 406 MHz EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon) is switched on in an emergency, Search & Rescue, where the EPIRB is registered, call the contact person where, I hope, I have lodged the Float Plan. The EPIRB alarm will give the nearly-exact position and the information that, indeed, an emergency exists. But beyond that the SAR personnel do not store the latest data on the boat or crew. They call the contact person.

BACK TO MALAQUE
Thursday, 02 February 2006

Pure inertia leads me to postpone my departure a couple of times from Tenacatita Bay. But I finally get everything stowed below on Tuesday evening and strip the canvas off the sails before having a quick meal and rowing over to S/V Legacy to watch a DVD with them. Heather and Chris are going to Barra de Navidad for a couple of days; they are picking up visitors and replenishing.

I am uncertain whether I should get up before sunrise and catch a faint land breeze out of the bay, or wait till later in the morning for the NW sea breezes to fill in. I am determined to sail the whole way so it makes a difference: when you motor or motorsail you sail if there is wind and you want to make the effort. But otherwise you just drive to your destination. If you are a true sailor, you calculate all the wind and current advantages you can get. Revealing myself to be neither, I pick up the anchor at about 0915, i.e. just as the early-morning land wind dies and before the sea breezes have picked up. I regret not having hanked on the red drifter but decide that I shall make my single-handed sailing life a little simpler and go with the headsails I already have hooked on. As I ghost east out of the anchorage I am passed by several larger sailboats, all motoring, all with their sail-covers still on. After about half an hour I turn past Centre Rock and head south toward the point some five miles away. Through the binoculars I can see whitecaps and waves out there. At one point the wind dies to nothing and I consider throwing on the Lister engine. But I stick to my plan and exercise myself in patience.

After twenty minutes of uncertainty, the winds freshen and soon Vilisar is doing over three knots. As we approach the point we are up to 5 knots. I am still being passed by sailboats under power but now they take longer to go by, at least. I follow the procession around the point and turn SE towards Bahia de Navidad. It is only five miles away on a downwind run. I swing the big solid fir main-boom out to starboard and try to get the staysail and job to go wing-on-wing. The attempt fails because the big mainsail is masking them. I decide not to worry about it and just enjoy the sail. Ahead of me all the sailboats have unfurled their genoas for the downwind leg; many modern cruising sailors never bother with their mainsails because they are more work to get up and douse while the genoas can simply be unfurled and furled again from the cockpit with a minimum of effort. I hear them talking on VHF and hear their motors in the background. I do see two ketches beating to windward out of Barra de Navidad, heeled way over and bobbing up and down in the waves so that I can see their bottoms.

The winds are definitely fresher now and small whitecaps are passing under Vilisar. She seems to like it. Sailing Vilisar solo is never really a problem until you want to put up sail or take it in: the staysail and the mainsail are self-tending, i.e. when you tack they will simply go over to the other side, though, with the big main, it is better when gibing to pull the mainsail boom amidships so it does not crash out the other side when the stern goes through the wind. The jibsail also needs to be handled over when tacking. But if you are quick, you can very quickly pull the jibsheet in fast enough to make a winch handle superfluous. However, when running, you have to be careful not to let the jibsail sheet out suddenly and allow the jibsail to wrap itself around the jibstay. This is not only hard on the sail but a big mess to get sorted out. I try to let loose the one sheet while tightening up the other at the same time. Not always successful especially if you are single-handing and need to pull the mainsail boom amidships and let that out the other side too. The result is can be a Chinese fire drill. This time everything works out.

I am more worried about the dinghy that I am towing. A friend used it to sail a few weeks ago and I noticed on the way to Tenacatita that the cover for the daggerboard is letting in more water than it used to, and even that was too much. I curse myself for not doing something about it in the last few days. By the time we round the point the bow half of the dinghy is already full of seawater and getting sluggish. I let out all the tow line attached to and the dinghy sits nicely on the back of the wave behind me. A drag, to be sure, but manageable. At least it is not trying to surf down a big wave in order to give Vilisar a kiss on the rudder. But I know that when we arrive in Malaque it will be difficult to pull the dinghy up to the side of the boat in preparation for anchoring. I debate heaving to, pulling the tender to the boat, climbing into the dinghy and bailing her out. I decide to wait till we are in more sheltered water around the distant point. But I renew my pledge to myself not only to make that cover watertight but also to perfect a manner of getting the two halves on deck when I am alone on board.

I look forward to going ashore in Malaque to check if there is money on the account and then buying some fresh foods. Jens told me of a supermarket that carries America items like peanut butter. I will stop off at the internet café and see if Kathleen has written from Germany in the last week and if perhaps I have work.

Under full sail I round the rocky point and see some half-dozen sailboats anchored in the bight. I round up, drop the mainsail and staysail, pull the dinghy alongside and secure it, and head under jibsail into the anchorage. Unfortunately, with this sail arrangement I cannot get to windward where I want to anchor out of the refracted waves coming around the rocks. So I run the engine for fifteen minutes, douse the jib and motor slowly forward. There’s Veleda and there are Jack and Monica on S/V Belle Via, a junk rigged double-ender from near Comox. In fact, of the seven boats in the anchorage, six are Canadians. There’s from Bella Bella, B.C., too.

Having been here before, it takes only a few minutes to anchor in twenty-five feet of clear water. It is hot in the sun and I want to rig the swim ladder and jump in. But I force myself to get the sail-covers on and the awning rigged before I finally go overboard. Given the density of the local population I decide I had better wear a bathing suit. In the water I note that it is time to clean Vilisar’s hull again and that I need a good diving mask. Another job to be done by Captain Ronnie, Boy Spot-Welding King-of-the-World. While I am drying off in the sunshine, Jack and Monica row by on the way to shore. “You looked fantastic coming in under sail!” they shout as they go by.

In the evening I check emails ashore, go to the bank to pick up money from the ATM and head to Fruterias Hawaii. Before that last stop though, I walk into the little alley outside the mercado that is lined with lunch counters. There are no customers since it is already late afternoon and the mercado is closed for the day. But the restaurants are all still open waiting for the evening trade, I guess. I pick a nice clean looking one in the middle of the row and have a discussion with the lady about what’s available. She wants me to try her chilli relenos (green chilli stuffed with mild cheese. I am not a fan since this dish is far too bland. She has no fish any more and I finally go and look in the two pots on her stove. One has a delicious looking dark stew, a guisado, with beef, potatoes and chillies. I order this and sit down while her ten-year-old son is sent to get me a soft drink. Doña Ilena has offered me agua fresca, a non-alcoholic iced drink made in this case from a white nut that tastes vaguely like coconut milk but which does not really appeal to me.

I take my time over the delicious meal, realising how weak I had become during the day because I had not really eaten anything. But I get to talk with Doña Ilena for a while. She says she will make sure she has a pesca for me if I come back tomorrow. The whole meal cost only Pesos 40 inclidng the large cola and the tip. With an “addios”, a “muchos gratias”, and with a full stomach, I wander out of the alley into the main street and across it to Fruterias Hawaii.

It is full of tourists buying like mad. But, Jens was right: it has most of what I need including peanut butter and bouillon powder. I buy lots of fruit and vegetables, some cookies and a few other things for the boat. There is no chance to pick up meat or chicken still today since that must come from the mercado. Tomorrow, then. After that “rico” and filling meal, I don’t plan to cook anything on the boat tonight anyway. I trudge back along the long beach to the dinghy with my plastic bags, and then row out to the boat through the light surf. I made a meal of cookies and fruit yoghurt. I’m a solo sailor and I can eat what I like.