If you ever go to a bad wine party – really, one of the kayakers said he had been to one – and want to pick the winner/loser…the worst wine, make sure it’s made in Mexico. Really. I’ve spat a few out. And their imports aren’t cheap!
If you want to really see homo sapien mating rituals, spend valentine’s day in a latin country. We ARE entertaining, aren't we?
And yes, mahi mahi is a superior fish. I finally caught a dorado last week. Yum!
Looks like plans are ever changing. Jack and Cinny have to postpone while they help their families’ health. So Bud and Rhoda look like they’re next here March 6-20. I plan to meet them in San Carlos/Guaymas. So i’m takin’ the long way there (north). Tonight to be my first solo overnight to time my arrival at San Francisquito for daylight – nervous (that’s a good sign).
I’ll write to y’all when i get there. Until then, say hi w/my sailmail address, be well, and enjoy each other.
Love and more love,
jon
Monday, February 15, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Santa Rosalia
02.10.2010 What did you do today? Me? I did 21 miles. And i did NOT make it look easy. Started out with gobs of wind, and an appropriately reduced sail area. Learned that i should save sailing off the anchor for calm days only, whew! Later the wind died, went to full sail. Wind came back, reduced sail again. And somehow couldn’t point for shit today – that’s sailing lingo for…well, trust me, it was frustrating. The wind was really shifty, and i must have gotten out of synch with it, but i suspect the rig needs tuning too. We came to sail, and today we sailed. And sailed. And sailed. 21 miles. Felt like 50. In 8 hours. Oh well, we’re here. First time we’ve tied up to a dock since…January 1 in La Paz. Pickin’ up e-mail, etc… And we are now north of 27 degrees north latitude, so officially in the northern Sea of Cortez.
"Wish you were here."
"Wish you were here."
Inner stuff
As i spend more time alone, it may be natural that i travel more inner distances. On the theory that we have many inner horizons in common, even if the details from each of us to our horizons are uniquely our own, i’ll post these. The inner stuff? It won’t have any photos.
(Enroute to and from my surprise xmas visit in Seattle) Reality vs. unreality: Have i created an unreality? Something unlike what other people are living, and unlike what i have lived…so does being unreal risk irrelevance? Even if i can unmask a reality, will it be too esoteric to contribute any useful insight? Having physically shed the old sense of what was real, am i after a new sense of what is real…on more than a physical level? How hard to let go! Or is it holding on that is hard? To pain?! Or if running from it, still it dictates my action. But what i may be after is to integrate pain, somehow resolve it. Not escape, not surrender, but integrate. Be okay with it? Be happy with it? I would swear that’s not possible. It feels like it could border on insanity…or science fiction…or some sort of breakthru. How will it fit in the world? What stops me from it? It must be me that stops me. An unreal path i have put myself on. Ironic, that the next step on this path starts from a place named La Paz. The Peace.
(End of Feb) 3 years and 2 months later…nightmare: in it we are sleeping in our bed, in our house, i am laying on my back, waking to huge emotional pain, she is leaving me? Rolling to my left side, expecting to feel her behind me, moving to spoon with and comfort me, to hear her voice. In real time i am rolling onto my left side, hearing my voice say her name, and realizing we are not in our bed, not in our house, it was a dream, i am on the boat, and she is not here. “Oh, fuck.”
“They” say time heals all. I am not convinced. I am scared. Scared that i will learn to not love living (the fear becomes a sign that i do love it). Scared that getting up in the morning will grow harder and harder. Scared because there is no one to tell…thus telling everyone feels like fighting back. What will happen if i don’t fight the fear? What, if anything, is at the bottom of this well? Maybe there is no such thing as alone. Maybe there's nothing to heal. Maybe grief and praise really are synonyms.
Is it the sharing that makes life worth our effort? I shake my head to be asking this from a profoundly alone place. I suspect that relationship is a key, not only for us, but for existence itself. That the spiritual is empty without the physical, and the physical worthless without the spiritual, each to evaporate without the other. Tho we are each on our own path, our luck is to share each other’s travels, and the sharing is good even if the travels are not. Do we know how important our company is to each other? Exploring being alone, perhaps wakings like this one are inevitable. Despite them, i carry on pretty well, i interact and contribute. One of the cruisers in Puerto Escondido came across the blog entry where i compare living on the boat in a storm to living in a house on wheels during an earthquake… His compliment heartens me.
(later) Waves - spontaneous, unique, transient. For those of us who have contemplated waves a LOT, we realize that the water is only the manifestation of the wave. The wave itself is actually invisible, pure energy, that the water exposes, that the water provides a vehicle for. Whoever/whatever we each are, our bodies (made mostly of water too), our lives, our selves appear to be much the same as the waves, conveying energy. Add the sparkle and shimmer of sun or moonlight dancing off the wavelets and there's more metaphor to be found. (I love it when my “pen” starts down a page, i don’t know where it’s gonna go, and it surprises me.)
(A few days later) I recently wished a very dear friend no doubts. It got me thinking about doubts. The more i think about them, the less i think they serve us. Not that we should be pompous or cockey. One can be doubt-less and still be humble, and humility can leave room for pride. I find i wish myself the same thing i wished my friend: no doubts. I am where i belong, i tell myself, and doubting subtracts from belonging. I take this path past much to attend and learn from. Each step is worth taking, consciously, and defines the path-ness. No doubt.
(Enroute to and from my surprise xmas visit in Seattle) Reality vs. unreality: Have i created an unreality? Something unlike what other people are living, and unlike what i have lived…so does being unreal risk irrelevance? Even if i can unmask a reality, will it be too esoteric to contribute any useful insight? Having physically shed the old sense of what was real, am i after a new sense of what is real…on more than a physical level? How hard to let go! Or is it holding on that is hard? To pain?! Or if running from it, still it dictates my action. But what i may be after is to integrate pain, somehow resolve it. Not escape, not surrender, but integrate. Be okay with it? Be happy with it? I would swear that’s not possible. It feels like it could border on insanity…or science fiction…or some sort of breakthru. How will it fit in the world? What stops me from it? It must be me that stops me. An unreal path i have put myself on. Ironic, that the next step on this path starts from a place named La Paz. The Peace.
(End of Feb) 3 years and 2 months later…nightmare: in it we are sleeping in our bed, in our house, i am laying on my back, waking to huge emotional pain, she is leaving me? Rolling to my left side, expecting to feel her behind me, moving to spoon with and comfort me, to hear her voice. In real time i am rolling onto my left side, hearing my voice say her name, and realizing we are not in our bed, not in our house, it was a dream, i am on the boat, and she is not here. “Oh, fuck.”
“They” say time heals all. I am not convinced. I am scared. Scared that i will learn to not love living (the fear becomes a sign that i do love it). Scared that getting up in the morning will grow harder and harder. Scared because there is no one to tell…thus telling everyone feels like fighting back. What will happen if i don’t fight the fear? What, if anything, is at the bottom of this well? Maybe there is no such thing as alone. Maybe there's nothing to heal. Maybe grief and praise really are synonyms.
Is it the sharing that makes life worth our effort? I shake my head to be asking this from a profoundly alone place. I suspect that relationship is a key, not only for us, but for existence itself. That the spiritual is empty without the physical, and the physical worthless without the spiritual, each to evaporate without the other. Tho we are each on our own path, our luck is to share each other’s travels, and the sharing is good even if the travels are not. Do we know how important our company is to each other? Exploring being alone, perhaps wakings like this one are inevitable. Despite them, i carry on pretty well, i interact and contribute. One of the cruisers in Puerto Escondido came across the blog entry where i compare living on the boat in a storm to living in a house on wheels during an earthquake… His compliment heartens me.
(later) Waves - spontaneous, unique, transient. For those of us who have contemplated waves a LOT, we realize that the water is only the manifestation of the wave. The wave itself is actually invisible, pure energy, that the water exposes, that the water provides a vehicle for. Whoever/whatever we each are, our bodies (made mostly of water too), our lives, our selves appear to be much the same as the waves, conveying energy. Add the sparkle and shimmer of sun or moonlight dancing off the wavelets and there's more metaphor to be found. (I love it when my “pen” starts down a page, i don’t know where it’s gonna go, and it surprises me.)
(A few days later) I recently wished a very dear friend no doubts. It got me thinking about doubts. The more i think about them, the less i think they serve us. Not that we should be pompous or cockey. One can be doubt-less and still be humble, and humility can leave room for pride. I find i wish myself the same thing i wished my friend: no doubts. I am where i belong, i tell myself, and doubting subtracts from belonging. I take this path past much to attend and learn from. Each step is worth taking, consciously, and defines the path-ness. No doubt.
Outer stuff
Kayak in bottom right hand corner of photo. 
Tuesday January 26 we crossed what i will call “Loreto Bay” in calm sailing and to the spectacle of a whale crashing and slapping about nearby for about half an hour. Wow! I mean real cavorting! The next day, during my dawn meditation, sitting at Akimbo’s swim step, i saw over a dozen trailer-able type sport fishing boats with big outboard motors gathered out in the Bay. My guess – gringos in a fishing tournament? Later, tho they were gone, i suppose i joined them as i caught my next few days’ meals. That morning, at breakfast, i cracked open my one jar of Dave’s grape jelly (thank you, Dave). This morning it was the sound of two porpoise coming up for a breath quite close that drew me out of bed and to my sit. I watched them for about ten minutes and then they left. I welcome anything on the horizon that catches my eye…or ear this morning…or taste buds yesterday. Again, beauty, in whatever form it takes, seems key.
Today, Thursday, is a good day to stay at anchor. Light, if any, winds and i don’t want to motor. Yesterday i put on the wetsuit, weight belt, mask and snorkel and started scraping the bottom of the boat. Really wore myself out and only got half done. (later) I seem to suffer vertigo swimming under the boat and working upside down. Today, when i finished the job i retched again. Note to self: facial hairs make it hard for the mask to seal on my face – after shaving, today’s job went much better than yesterday’s. Gotta laugh.
(that night) Water so clear, i could see shadows and shapes on the bottom in 30’ of water - by the light of the full moon! Or maybe that was testament to the moon’s fullness? Either way, impressed.
From there we sailed north to Isla Coronados and stayed there two nights too – another of the protected park islands.
Really a lovely spot, including what must be one of the most scenic composting outhouses in the world. 
Hiked the trail maybe halfway to the peak, paddled about in the kayak, said hi to the other two boats anchored there. One of those dawns i watched the full moon set as the sun came up.
A little north of there we were the only boat anchored at Punta Mangles and i went exploring a sea cave in the dinghy (testing a fix for the outboard’s propellor). The geology here really is front and center “the star of the show.” Just look at the striations, textures, colors… At the bottom of one of the photos is a sea cave.
The next night we anchored in San Juanico, where i paid our respects to the “cruiser’s shrine:” a small tree surrounded and covered by decorations from crews who have anchored here. The oldest “we were here” i could find was from a boat named "Paisano" dated 1984. I tied a banner to a limb on behalf of Akimbo and crew.
At Punta Pulpito the next day i went exploring in the kayak and paddled thru a sea arch. When i got back two more boats had anchored so i went by and said hi. One of them was a bit close to me but i didn’t ask him to move…in the middle of the night i finally re-anchored Akimbo a little further from him. During my late night re-anchoring i saw lightning flashes far away, probably on the mainland. We spent the next day sailing and motoring around and thru rain storms – no lightning – the first time i had donned my foulies in a long time. We got in just at dark to anchor in Bahia Coyote in Bahia Concepcion, where a calm night allowed me a full night’s quiet sleep. In the morning Caleb paddled over from his 26’ sailboat in his inflatable kayak to introduce himself and invited me to join a foray into nearby Mulege if i needed any supplies. I accepted and made some new acquaintances in the process. I got back to Akimbo late in the afternoon – once again dodging what i really intend: to sit down and do some creative writing.
Mary Oliver suggests that being creative is like any relationship: if your muse learns that you cannot be depended upon to show up, then your muse won’t show up either. It’s a relationship i must take better care of. The next day i kayaked all over, took a hike where the guidebook said i would find petroglyphs.
Voila! There they were. Wow. Think about that! We spent the next night in a more secluded anchorage, Stanta Barbara, and i admired a couple of women who rowed their open cruising sailboat into the shallows and then made camp on the beach. The next day we anchored at the Bahia Santa Domingo at the entrance to Bahia Concepcion, as the jump off point to head further north.
2.7.10 Mid-morning some kayakers who were camped ashore at Bahia Santo Domingo came by Akimbo at anchor and invited me in for dinner. I thanked them and said that if i didn’t set sail i would accept. There was no wind to sail on until mid-afternoon and by then it felt too late to head for Punto Chivato. So i stayed at anchor. Funny, it felt like an effort to stay put. While there i created a logbook for Akimbo, tracking her sailing to here. Next, at the back of the log book, from my file of receipts, i need to record her maintenance history. I took a bottle of wine with me when i paddled in at about 4. Went for a walk on the beach and came back to a delightful dinner with nine of my newest friends.
Outdoor dining enhances the way things taste, but these guys really do eat much better than i expected, with gourmet salad and pizza, really good brownies and chocolate. I have to pay my respects to people who take themselves out of their routines at home and put themselves “out there.” They bond with each other at some deeper level, our need for each others’ care and support made explicit by the dynamics of the outdoors and of the moment. I paddled back as it got dark and listened to music while marveling again at the starry heavens, and admiring their campfire on shore. The milky way was bright enuf to reflect off the calm sea! And the dark water was full of phosphorescence, more than i’ve ever seen several times over, and revealing lots of fish zipping by. It’s busy under the surface!
Tuesday January 26 we crossed what i will call “Loreto Bay” in calm sailing and to the spectacle of a whale crashing and slapping about nearby for about half an hour. Wow! I mean real cavorting! The next day, during my dawn meditation, sitting at Akimbo’s swim step, i saw over a dozen trailer-able type sport fishing boats with big outboard motors gathered out in the Bay. My guess – gringos in a fishing tournament? Later, tho they were gone, i suppose i joined them as i caught my next few days’ meals. That morning, at breakfast, i cracked open my one jar of Dave’s grape jelly (thank you, Dave). This morning it was the sound of two porpoise coming up for a breath quite close that drew me out of bed and to my sit. I watched them for about ten minutes and then they left. I welcome anything on the horizon that catches my eye…or ear this morning…or taste buds yesterday. Again, beauty, in whatever form it takes, seems key. Today, Thursday, is a good day to stay at anchor. Light, if any, winds and i don’t want to motor. Yesterday i put on the wetsuit, weight belt, mask and snorkel and started scraping the bottom of the boat. Really wore myself out and only got half done. (later) I seem to suffer vertigo swimming under the boat and working upside down. Today, when i finished the job i retched again. Note to self: facial hairs make it hard for the mask to seal on my face – after shaving, today’s job went much better than yesterday’s. Gotta laugh.
(that night) Water so clear, i could see shadows and shapes on the bottom in 30’ of water - by the light of the full moon! Or maybe that was testament to the moon’s fullness? Either way, impressed.
From there we sailed north to Isla Coronados and stayed there two nights too – another of the protected park islands.
Really a lovely spot, including what must be one of the most scenic composting outhouses in the world. 
Hiked the trail maybe halfway to the peak, paddled about in the kayak, said hi to the other two boats anchored there. One of those dawns i watched the full moon set as the sun came up. A little north of there we were the only boat anchored at Punta Mangles and i went exploring a sea cave in the dinghy (testing a fix for the outboard’s propellor). The geology here really is front and center “the star of the show.” Just look at the striations, textures, colors… At the bottom of one of the photos is a sea cave.
The next night we anchored in San Juanico, where i paid our respects to the “cruiser’s shrine:” a small tree surrounded and covered by decorations from crews who have anchored here. The oldest “we were here” i could find was from a boat named "Paisano" dated 1984. I tied a banner to a limb on behalf of Akimbo and crew.
At Punta Pulpito the next day i went exploring in the kayak and paddled thru a sea arch. When i got back two more boats had anchored so i went by and said hi. One of them was a bit close to me but i didn’t ask him to move…in the middle of the night i finally re-anchored Akimbo a little further from him. During my late night re-anchoring i saw lightning flashes far away, probably on the mainland. We spent the next day sailing and motoring around and thru rain storms – no lightning – the first time i had donned my foulies in a long time. We got in just at dark to anchor in Bahia Coyote in Bahia Concepcion, where a calm night allowed me a full night’s quiet sleep. In the morning Caleb paddled over from his 26’ sailboat in his inflatable kayak to introduce himself and invited me to join a foray into nearby Mulege if i needed any supplies. I accepted and made some new acquaintances in the process. I got back to Akimbo late in the afternoon – once again dodging what i really intend: to sit down and do some creative writing.
Mary Oliver suggests that being creative is like any relationship: if your muse learns that you cannot be depended upon to show up, then your muse won’t show up either. It’s a relationship i must take better care of. The next day i kayaked all over, took a hike where the guidebook said i would find petroglyphs.
Voila! There they were. Wow. Think about that! We spent the next night in a more secluded anchorage, Stanta Barbara, and i admired a couple of women who rowed their open cruising sailboat into the shallows and then made camp on the beach. The next day we anchored at the Bahia Santa Domingo at the entrance to Bahia Concepcion, as the jump off point to head further north. 2.7.10 Mid-morning some kayakers who were camped ashore at Bahia Santo Domingo came by Akimbo at anchor and invited me in for dinner. I thanked them and said that if i didn’t set sail i would accept. There was no wind to sail on until mid-afternoon and by then it felt too late to head for Punto Chivato. So i stayed at anchor. Funny, it felt like an effort to stay put. While there i created a logbook for Akimbo, tracking her sailing to here. Next, at the back of the log book, from my file of receipts, i need to record her maintenance history. I took a bottle of wine with me when i paddled in at about 4. Went for a walk on the beach and came back to a delightful dinner with nine of my newest friends.
Outdoor dining enhances the way things taste, but these guys really do eat much better than i expected, with gourmet salad and pizza, really good brownies and chocolate. I have to pay my respects to people who take themselves out of their routines at home and put themselves “out there.” They bond with each other at some deeper level, our need for each others’ care and support made explicit by the dynamics of the outdoors and of the moment. I paddled back as it got dark and listened to music while marveling again at the starry heavens, and admiring their campfire on shore. The milky way was bright enuf to reflect off the calm sea! And the dark water was full of phosphorescence, more than i’ve ever seen several times over, and revealing lots of fish zipping by. It’s busy under the surface!
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