Be carefull what you set out to do... It might just happen.

After months, years, days, innumerable sleepless nights, we're finally facing the repercussions of this crazy plan we hatched oh so long ago.

We are in Ensenada now, living on Traveler full time. No turning back.  The little Honda trucked all that gear and personal belongings all the way from Seattle to the Cruiseport Marina in Ensenada Mexico.  And now the little Honda sits, all dusty from the trip.  And all that stuff is stowed on board.  We've been here a few days, pretty busy days, but we're finally starting to acclimatize to the pace of life here.  Of course the weather is lovely.

Yesterday I removed the four lower main mast stays and today we spent the day traveling back across the border to San Diego to take them to rigger ED at Downwind Marine.  It was his birthday.  Happy birthday Ed.  Now we are arranging for various visits from friends and relatives and we might have a couch surfer or two joining us here.  My ulterior motive is to find someone to climb up the mast and help me remove that rigging.  We can only do so much at a time or the stick will fall over. 

So drop us a line and we will commiserate with you and send good cheers your way. We are on gmail.com with a user name of swvoltz  or cbunyer.

Love you...

Marina Del Ray

Punching out the miles, pushing the little Honda south following the I-5 Corridor through the northern California hills then down to the endless hot plain of the Central Valley (the nation's salad bowl) and finally popping out into the LA basin.  We're in the Marina Del Ray area now staying tonight at Marco and Naida's house.  The cool breeze is wafting through the house and I'm catching up on the internet duties while Connie stretches on the cool wood floor. 

That little guy you see sitting in the cabinet helping us drink the ballena (translates as "whale") of Pacifico is our dear friend Monkey. He's been a fixture in our house since we've been together and was with Connie many years before that. Wise, crafty, and very loving, Monkey encouraged us to jump off this cliff and head to Mexican waters.  Right now he is our car mascot.  Soon to be our boat mascot. Expect to see more of him in the future.  

Breath in... breath out

Drink in, breath out.

 Tomorrow we drive to then through San Diego then down to San Ysidro and across the border into Tijuana.  Then south about an hour to Ensenada and we'll be reunited with our beloved Traveler.

She will be covered in grit, stuffy inside, with splintering decks, and faded canvas.  Oh Traveler, we'll not be neglecting you further.

Fare thee well

It's started. It's done. Saturday night Ocho Pies played their last gig and today, the first day of fall, the equinox,(how appropriate) we are gone from Seattle.  We're writing this at the kitchen table with Nancy and Debbie in Ashland Oregon.  Almost in California. Not wanting to stay in hotels on the road trip from Seattle to Ensenada we opted to couch surf our way down the coast.  See:  Couch Surfing

But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Saturday night the group of musicians that Connie has been performing with for the last 18 years, Ocho Pies, had their last gig.  It was a bitter sweet occasion.  We were at Third Place Books in Lake Forest Park in Seattle.  Many of our Seattle friends showed up for the show.  Paul, Michael, and Steven drove up from Olympia bringing guitar, drums, and bass.  Connie had her accordion, melodica, and various percussion instruments.  Good energy but there was some sadness as they had played together for so long and had so many good memories.  A great show and memorable.

There were tears.

Then the next Monday was Scott's last day at work. Can you believe, giving up a perfectly good job to go gallivanting off to Mexico?  With help from our good friends Lindor and Daneen we emptied our little apartment with trips to Salvation Army.  And everyone cleaned and packed.  By Wednesday we were out of the apartment and Jeremy gave us our deposit back ( Thank you!) and we went to the Dekker's for the night.  Good times there with a rest day on Thursday then early Friday, today, the first day of fall, we are finally on the road.  Goodbye Seattle.

1341 Miles later we'll be in Ensenada trying to figure out where to put all that crap we brought in the car.  All those books we could not leave behind, all those clothes we won't need, and all those tools that will eventually rust and be tossed overboard.

Saturday night we're in the Bay area, crashing with generous (ex) relatives, then Sunday at Marco and Naida's in Santa Monica and then it's across the border to Tijuana and on to Ensenada. Heading south, getting warm, finding the sun.  When we left Seattle it was 58 degrees and misting rain.... appropriate.

Thank you, thank you, to everyone who helped us get this far by giving us encouragement, supporting our decision to bug out, buying all our junk, and contributing to this adventure. We hope to pay back the favor when friends come down to visit us in warm, blue waters.

My last Scone day

Today, as usual, I took the bus to work, walked from downtown Seattle up to Harborview Medical Center and, because it was Thursday, I went directly to the hospital cafeteria to get a scone.  Every Thursday morning they cook up scones fresh and hot.  My usual habit for the last almost three years is to stop in and get a fresh scone and take it back to my desk three blocks away.

The last scone.

And so this morning I found myself retracing those steps. Into the ER entrance then around the corner to the stairs to the basement, down the hospital hall and around the corner into the subterranean main cafeteria for the hospital.  Met a few people along the way and we said hello. Got the scone and the jam and paid my $2.24 to the cashier who I'm on first name basis with. Most places I go in the hospital are places I've worked, putting in a workstation or printer or helping out somebody or another.  I helped connect the menu screens near the food line in the cafeteria and set up all the registers for the cashiers.  Been there dozens and dozens of times and know almost everyone.

Walked through the tunnel and the automatic doors and used my card swipe to gain access to the hallway outside of the Maleng building surgery where I could glimpse briefly the electronic schedule board full of operations lined up for the day.  People in blue everywhere. Gurneys in the hallway and the small of antiseptic.  Elevator up to floor one and then exit through a back hallway that dumped me out on 10th st.  Walked the few blocks to my building, passing people walking their dogs or hurrying to work. Past the mental health folks loitering on the sidewalks, smoking and staring at the ground.  Then into my building and swiping the card again to access the fourth floor.  Walking into my office, saying hello to the gang I work with then settling down to open email and eat that still warm scone.  What a nice life.

I'm gonna miss that place, for sure.  And I'll miss the people I work with and work for.

Today at noon we went to a farewell lunch and stuffed ourselves with Mexican food.  As normal, the manager at Tacos Guaymas brought around a plate of fried jalapeno peppers and Jonathan, Bill, David, Francine, Kevin, and Brett displayed their machismo by sweating their way through the devil fruit. As we walked up Broadway I'm thinking this is the last time I'll have the chili colorado wet burrito there and the last time I'll walk up Broadway with those set of friends.

Moving forward, moving on, sometimes means moving south

 It was refreshing watching the Democratic national convention this week. It gave me some hope that things might some day get a little easier for those of us who are not rich.

In the meantime, many folks are counting their limited funds and discovering that they can live a much nicer life by heading south of the border.  Top retirement countries are now Panama, Costa Rica, Belize, Uruguay, Nicaragua, and our favorite... Mexico. These countries have excellent medical plans, much cheaper than in the U.S. and the cost of living so very reasonable.  For Connie and I, we could almost, but not quite, retire in the U.S. And with that, we'd be living in a very small, cheap apartment pinching pennies to get by. Forget about having health insurance.  COBRA health insurance would cost us $1,056.69 a month! 

We know of some folks who are either heading south now or planning on it in the near future.

View from Leslie's house under construction.

Leslie is moving to Mexico with her husband Graham. They sold their property here in Seattle and are building a small waterfront home on Isla Mujeres on the Mexican Caribbean. No these are not 80 year old retirees but mid age normal people who are ready to step off the treadmill and lead a relaxed life.

Keith and Lisa plan to move to Costa Rica where they can live at half the price as in Seattle. They have been visiting Costa Rica during our winter for a few years now, trying to narrow down where they'd like to settle. Moving south can sometime make the difference between being able to stop work and not. 

Another friend who lives on a small fixed income is barely making it here in Seattle but in Mexico, she can be comfortable, less stressed, and get better health care.  She's headed south too.

So when people ask us, "How can you afford to sail away?" I just tell them that we don't really have much money so we're going to a place where we don't need much money.  These last few months feel really good as we divest ourselves of our belongings.  Along with belongings we are ridding ourselves of debt and monthly payments. Imagine no mortgage or rent, no utility bills, no cell phone charges, no car insurance, no netfilx, no magazine subscriptions, no gasoline for the gas guzzler.  Give up all that stuff and suddenly your meager funds swell to proportions capable of sustaining an active, healthy lifestyle.  At least that's the plan.....  Stan

Just slip out the back, Jack, make a new plan, Stan
Don't need to be coy, Roy, just listen to me
Hop on the bus, Gus, don't need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee, and get yourself free 

Two weeks and counting and we'll be headed south. 

We're Selling out

Now that the partying is over, it's time to sell off our remaining Seattle assets.  We're pretty much down to the basics of what it takes to live in our one bedroom apartment.  Now those belongings are leaving the nest.

A Virtual Garage Sale !

Here on this page we had advertised our belongings and let our friends know what we had to move out of the apartment.  Well, the sale went very well and we got rid of everything.  Many friends took our items and paid full price.  Some of the more stubborn items were difficult to sell so I used Craig's list and dropped the price down. 


Eventually we moved every single item. At the end we just put stuff on Craig's list for free and people came and picked them up.  So there was very little that we actually had to carry out of the apartment ourselves.  One little trip to the Goodwill and we were done.  Thanks to everyone who helped us shed ourselves of our unnecessary possessions.

Sold Items


The calendar is tight, with Scott working one more day and Connie rushing around taking pictures of things, changing addresses, and checking a bazillion things off the list. We're targeting September 20 as departure day with everything out of the house by September 17.

Was it a going away party or a wedding?

We pulled a fast one.  Well at least we tried.  On August 19 Connie and Scott threw a going away party at the Greenwood Masonic Lodge at 80th and Greenwood Avenue.  We invited about 50 friends and asked them to BYOB.  Ocho Pies arrived at 5:00 and set up and a few friends arrived and helped us get the food and bar ready.  Then at 6:00 PM people started to filter in. Ocho started playing and we started to fill the little hall.  When the band finished the first set just after 7:00 PM they took a break and our friend Lorree took the microphone and called on Michael Olson and Daneen Balcirak to come up to the stage...  as witnesses.

"You people who came up from Olympia know that these are my marrying people clothes .You all think you are here for a going away party, which you are, but this is also my first time doing a surprise wedding.  And now we'll ask for the bride and groom to take the stage."  At this time Michael pretended that he was the one getting married and Daneen laughed and blushed.  Then Connie and Scott came up to the stage.  Connie had changed into a creme colored sari and Scott put on a fancy shirt.

Mr and Mrs Connie Bunyer

There was a surprised gasp from the crowd and then we proceeded with the nuptials.  After the exchange of vows and rings and the long sweet kiss we jumped over a broom, tied ourselves together with a rope, exchanged coins, drank some wine out of a stemmed glass then smashed the glass on the floor.  We were married! Yahoo!

What followed was dancing and music and cheese and good feelings and good times. At one point everyone in the room formed two circles and danced around and around to the Tarentella.  Later Scott whipped a chair out into the room and motioned to Connie to take a seat. She did, then four strapping men lifted her up in the air and we danced around the room to Gogol Bordello's "Start Wearing Purple."

At the close of the evening everyone had that warm loving glow.

Thank you friends for joining us and for those that were not there we wish you well and miss you already.  And thank you friends for your generosity and love.

We're leaving Seattle in about three weeks and are shedding possessions left and right. Next we'll have our on-line virtual garage sale, then an actual garage sale, then a trip to Goodwill. And we'll be free to head south in the little Honda, headed for California and then Ensenada where we'll be on the boat at the marina until we muster up enough courage to head out into the deep blue Pacific Ocean.

Deme su dinero, señor o señora

I've added a cute little feature to the Traveler at Sea blog.  Something everyone has been clamoring for. Every time I talk to my friends they express interest in buying me a beer.  Often they try to press a little cash into my hand on our parting.  You know, like you do at the curb when the driver places your bags on the sidewalk and you conveniently have those folded up dollars in your palm ready to transfer to him with a handshake and a wink.

And as I'm walking through town those scruffy gentlemen sitting on the sidewalk offer me their paper cups full of coinage, suggesting I take at least a quarter or a dollar.  It's embarrassing and I'm often reluctant to take people's money but I know it is just my pride that holds me back.  So with the help of my good buddy Pay Pal, I've added a little button to this website.  Without any embarrassment and in complete privacy, you can buy me a beer, buy me two beers, or even finance an entire week of Mexico cruising by pressing the Donate  button.

This takes you to a secure page, where you can use your credit card or PayPal account and in a few

Give me your money, sir or madam.

steps,Voilà, you have bought Connie and I a beer, or two, or twenty.  You will receive a receipt via email noting your donation amount and the fact that it is going towards our cruising kitty.  I'll receive an email notice that you, my good friend, my best friend, has contributed to our cruising kitty. You are happy and feel generous. We are happy knowing we have such good friends.  The cruising kitty is happy.  Actually the cruising kitty can be a voracious feline and if you don't feed her on a regular basis she gets very cranky. So thanks for helping out.

One more note.  If you enter your email address there where it says "Enter your email address and we'll send you a note when we post a new blog entry." then each time Connie or I dream up another interesting and clever blog entry you will receive a little note in your email in-box suggesting you come visit and read it. That way you can remove that little reminder note you have that pops up each day telling you to check our blog just to see if anything new is happening. 

El Capitan with that guy who "fixes" things.

And while I'm at it, there is this adjustment. If you click on the picture of the boat or the picture of me and Connie looking windswept and wacky it will take you to the very first blog entry from March 2010.  That's where our story begins.  From there you can scroll up to see more recent posts and use the "Newer Posts" and "Older Posts" to see other pages. You can also navigate by using the Blog Archive on the left margin to find specific months and years. 

Thanks for staying with me through this.  I think we have an agreement here.  It would be a shame if I had to call in this other guy to make my point more forcefully.  :)

Giving Notice

We gave notice today.  Notice to the alarm clock that we’ll stop setting it for 6:45 AM each weekday.  Notice to the bus driver that we’ll not be boarding out on busy, stinky Lake City Way in the early morning. I’m giving notice to all those smokers I have to pass by on my way into the building where I work.  Will they notice my absence?

And we gave notice to our bosses and co-workers at work, both Beechers and Harborview, all good people who have been good to us and as fair as can be.

I gave notice to more than half of my wardrobe that I’ll soon be taking to the Goodwill.  Goodbye dress shirts and corduroy pants.  Hello shorts! 

We gave notice to the every afternoon Seattle traffic jam when we sit on the bus and watch drivers block intersections, creating gridlock.  We gave notice to all those people who stand on the sidewalk, walk on the sidewalk, sit on busses, and ride in elevators while always, always staring at iPods, iPhones, Androids, or Kindels while the world around them passes by in silence.

I say goodbye to rent, phone bills, utility bills, and insurance. The payroll department gave me notice that my paychecks will soon cease.

Yes, we've taken that big step to sever ourselves from our Seattle world. Now we're down to a timetable of making lists and checking off items.  Get rid of that, stash the other, loan out this, repack, rethink, and reduce what we have down to a small car load of stuff that will fit in the Honda.  By mid September we'll be unemployed.  By the end of September we'll be gone from the state.  We'll spend the month of October in Ensenada prepping the boat and head south when we're done.

We've given notice.

Got some exploring to do..

This is the voice of Consuelo now, the other sailor aboard Traveler. Guido has convinced me to participate in our blog, so this will be my first entry of many to come.

Adventure Diva!

 
For over 30 years I’ve lived in this spectacular place, raised my kids here, studied music, theater and dance, met my dearest friends and learned the trades of retail grocery and cheese mongering. Leaving my community and its beautiful setting in the Pacific Northwest has become one of the hardest things for me to do. We will be living on the water for years to come, and I have a desire to see a few more wild places here on land before we go. Where though and to what extreme? I imagine a drive to the trail head with dinner on the road Friday night, set up camp and wake to an early start. Make our ascent, set up camp for the night then return the next day. Easy, right?

After serious consideration we decide on a day hike up Mt. Pilchuck; it’s six miles round trip, only a 2K’ ascent and we won’t have to sleep in a tent. It’s been years since either of us has hiked and the voice of reason wins the debate. For being a grounded earth sign, characterized as making calculated, well thought out decisions, the crazy adventure diva is all too willing to jump into the abyss. Whereas my much more practical and somewhat uncharacteristic fire sign fiancé knows how to talk me down from the edge.

View of Three Fingers

It’s a hot day, one of the first of the summer. At the Verlot ranger station they ask if we’re prepared for snow. We have sturdy boots and extra layers. So, off we go! The little Honda climbs to the trail head and we take in the view: Mt. Baker, Three Fingers, Mt. Index, and Mt. Rainier.

Snow in July

Water, check, snacks, check, sandwiches, check, moleskin, check, hat, check, sunglasses, check, sunscreen, check…It didn’t take long to find snow! and the squeals of younger hikers sliding down on their returns, some with tennis shoes, some in sandals and all with wet bottoms. Onward and upward, photo ops-a-plenty, the final 100 yards straight up, sort of, chipping footholds in the snow, we get a grip and declare these rocks the summit and toast success with our well-deserved micro brew favorites. There’s never a better moment in a hike when one can finally liberate the toes from hot and heavy boots, eat tuna sandwiches while sitting in the crook of a rock shaded by scrubby trees on the mountainside…

Refreshed and ready for our descent we pack up and go. There is some slipping and sliding taking it all in long strides. Fortunately our return is not nearly as hot or sweaty as our ascent. We are running low on water and feeling the limitations of our middle-age. In other words, we got our butts kicked and I’m glad Scott talked me out of my initial, more challenging quest. At the end of the day we remain a happy couple and the test of our first hike proves this relationship will survive our ambitions for adventure!

Ah, The Summit!