November 12-13: San Diego to Ensenada: A Coast Guard gunboat, finally
    crossing the border, and our introduction to officialdom, Mexican style

    We left San Diego in the dark with our friends Robbie Robinson and Tori Parrot, playing
    connect the dots with the buoy lights marking the channel out of the harbor. The Mexican
    border beckoned only 10 miles away; Ensenada, where we would check through customs,
    etc., only 60 miles off. But what takes less than an hour on I-5 takes a good 10 hours via
    sailboat, so we timed our departure to arrive in Ensenada by daybreak. We'd almost
    crossed the border when a Coast Guard gunboat hailed us on the VHF radio, apparently
    suspicious of this boat slipping across the border under cover of darkness. Convincing
    them we carried nothing more lethal than some bottles of wine, we motored on through the
    dark and calm, arriving at Ensenada by morning's light. Documents in hand, Jan and Joan
    set out confidently to handle Mexican customs/immigration, only to become immediately
    lost. After many wrong turns and a few cross words, we finally found the new, "efficient"
    offices. There we were shuttled from one window to the next, with frequent trips to the
    photocopy office.













    November 13-18: Ensenada to Bahia Magdalena: Sailing down the outside of
    Baja, tracking a hurricane, and FINALLY shedding our fleece
    Heaven is sailing in open waters, 70 miles offshore, surrounded by nothing but sky and
    sea. Casteele was in her element, dancing over the swells with her sails full of wind. We
    made good time, often sailing in 15-25 knot winds and rotating our watches through  24-
    hour cycles that soon merged into one big blur. After a couple of days at sea your body
    gets used to the rocking and rolling and the watch schedule of four hours on and four hours
    off. The daytimes our wonderful---looking for sea life, birds, and ships (you don't want to
    hit), mesmerized by the constant motion of the sea. Exercise consists of isometrics and
    upper body work, trying to stand upright on the rolling decks, raising, lowering, and
    trimming sails. The nights are an incredible array of stars, moon, and again looking for the
    ships you don't want to hit. The nights provide lots of time to think and reflect about what we
    are doing. I must say, we haven't figured this out yet. Are we on vacation, an adventure , or
    a "give back" mission? The answers to our many questions about life and purpose will be
    answered as we walk this path. Oh my gosh, we are not walking--we are sailing.
    A day or two out of Ensenada, we hit a huge landmark: NO MORE FLEECE. We had
    finally found truly warm temperatures that had us barefoot and in shorts, day and night.
    Now, after months of listening to us whine about the cold, you can start hearing us whine
    about the heat.



























    November 19-20: Bahia de Magdalena to Cabo San Lucas: The eternal cape
    More sun and warmth escorted us down the coast. When we spotted Cabo Falso, the
    southern tip of Baja Peninsula, we thought we were home free. But winds, current, and
    short, choppy waves conspired against us, slowing our progress to a snail's pace. We
    grew heartedly tired of looking at that cape. Finally we rounded the corner into the mayhem
    of Cabo San Lucas--cruise ships, jet skis, "booze cruise" tourist boats, the usual. This was
    a place Jan and Joan had sworn they would never go by boat--but prudence demanded
    that we top off our fuel tanks, so we bit the bullet, shelled out the big bucks, and stayed the
    night. We consoled ourselves with some giant margaritas, a wonderful dinner, and great
    showers.



























    November 24-December 20: Life is rough in Bahia de Banderas
    Our friends Nancy and Lynn stayed with us for six days. Our moorage slip is right next to a
    small and friendly Mexican hotel with palapa bar/restaurant and swimming pool, so life
    consisted of sleeping in or early morning walks, lying around the pool drinking pina
    coladas, and reading. Our biggest decision each day was whether to cook on the boat or
    eat out. Life was rough. Nancy and Lynn, along with cruising friends Sue and Steve,
    orchestrated a belated surprise 60th birthday party for Jan, complete with decorations,
    party hats, and cake.
    After the departure of our friends, we set off to explore the 15 x 20-mile-wide Banderas
    Bay. First anchorage was off a small Mexican town called La Cruz, where we engaged in
    the often painful drill of putting our inflatable, "Dude," in the water and then lowering the
    outboard engine onto Dude without dropping it in the ocean, puncturing Dude, or smashing
    the sides of Casteele. (Remember, we are performing these seemingly simple tasks while
    everything is rocking, pitching, and rolling. It's not a pretty sight.)
    La Cruz is a highly popular cruisers' destination--small town with easy place to beach the
    dinghy and lots of services dear to cruisers' hearts: propane, fuel, fresh water, internet
    service, good butcher, and of course, beer. Unfortunately for us, the La Cruz waterfront is
    currently a muddy mess, torn up and under construction for a  future marina. So our dinghy
    landings were less than tidy. But we managed to get in and out a couple times, once for a
    meal with friends at a German-owned restaurant with superb live music provided by a
    vocal/guitar couple.
    Next anchorage was off Punta de Mita at the northern entrance to the bay. Sapphire blue,
    clear waters with bathtub temperatures made diving off the boat a must. We visited some
    nearby islands the next day in hopes of snorkeling, but winds were all wrong for anchoring
    off the cliffs. Our compensation prize while we sailed back across the bay was a family of
    humpbacks blowing and breaching and waving at us with their huge pectoral fins. We even
    saw a baby humpback among the pod. Back at the La Cruz anchorage, we wrestled Dude
    and the outboard into submission and explored the beach/coastline, discovering a tiny
    Mexican resort area--a couple small hotels, an outdoor eating area shaded by palm trees
    and palapas, and a lovely swimming beach--all of which were peopled solely by Mexican
    families. After too much time in gringo resorts, it was pure heaven to be surrounded by
    Mexicans in their own place. Enjoyed the opportunity to practice our espanol and to teach
    them some English. Spent a couple afternoons there before heading back into PV marina.
    Jan is flying to Omaha for Xmas, Joan is going to Seattle. In the time between now and
    then, we are attending to boat maintenance and installation projects, exploring PV, visiting
    with cruising friends, sailing Banderas Bay, and whining about the heat. It's rough.











     December 21-January 6, 2007: Time with family
    On December 21, Joan flew to Seattle to be with her family and I flew to Omaha to be with
    mine. Christmas was a combination of trying to get boat supplies, being with family, and
    trying to stay warm. (Our bodies, now used to sun and warmth, go into shock with cold,
    snow, and rain.) Joan and I returned to our beloved Casteele on the 28th. Jan's sister and
    her family joined us in PV, staying at a nearby hotel. We had a ball showing them around,
    taking them for a sail in Banderas Bay, and joining them for a Mexican Fiesta. My nieces
    are a blast to be with, but I sure do feel the age difference. We were sorry to see them
    leave. We left Puerto Vallarta marina on January 7 and headed to Punta de Mita at the
    opening to the bay, to jump off for our next trip down the coast.
Captain's Log: San Diego to Puerto Vallarta
November 2006 - January  2007
Everything in Mexico must be done in triplicate or
more. We were congratulating ourselves on reaching
the final window when we learned that having
Robbie's and Tori's passports wasn't enough--the
two of them had to be there in person. That,
combined with the challenge of fueling up when there
was no fuel dock (we bought fuel from some local
fishermen, who delivered it in jerry cans), resulted in
a rather late exit from Ensenada. But we sailed away
under a brisk breeze, happily toasting our official
entrance into Mexico.
We had planned a straight shot to Puerto Vallarta, but the
weather had other ideas. A hurricane named Sergio was
brewing off the southern Mexican coast, trying to decide
how big to get and what direction to head. This was not
welcome news. We had waited all these months solely to
avoid hurricane season, and here's this late bloomer
lurking on the horizon. Not having any desire to meet
Sergio face to face, we spent many hours analyzing every
weather forecast we could get our hands on. Sergio was
being very coy ("Do I want to be a big bad hurricane or just
a tropical storm? Do I want to go north or west? Or do I just
want to disappear?"). Everyone had a different opinion
about what to do, but our friend Sue, of sailboat "Sea
Fire," ultimately provided the best advice: "Go into a
protected anchorage and drink!" Bahia Magdalena was
right off our bow, so we ducked in, dropped the hook, and
decided Sergio was a blessing in disguise. The water was
warm and crystal clear, the desert-like surroundings starkly
beautiful, the beach occupied solely by some Mexican
families in a primitive fish camp. We reveled in a blissful
afternoon of swimming, relaxing, and exploring, and could
have stayed for days, but by next morning Sergio seemed
to be dissipating, so we reluctantly bid "Mag Bay" adios
and continued our journey south.
November 21-23: Cabo San Lucas to Puerto
Vallarta: Crossing open waters to a
champagne and sunshine welcome in PV
Leaving Cabo marina at daybreak with all the
sportsfishing boats is a very bad idea. Remind us
of that next time. Fishing boats and pangas were
jockeying for position at the fuel dock and harbor
exit in a crazed scene more like bumper boats
than anything else. Grateful to escape intact, we
hoisted sails in terrific winds and watched Cabo
disappear off our stern. We crossed open waters
from the tip of Baja to Puerto Vallarta--a couple of
long days and nights. Our goal was to be in PV by
Thanksgiving and we pulled into our slip at 10AM
Thanksgiving morning. Friends greeted us with a
celebration of champagne and pastries. It was
sunny and very hot (we are now beginning to
whine). After cleaning our salt-encrusted boat and
equally salty bodies, we treated ourselves to a
Mexican version of Thanksgiving dinner. It was
wonderful to be in PV but we were exhausted and
crashed early.
To see a slideshow of photos from this segment of our trip, click on
Photo Albums and follow the instructions on that page.