The approach to Isla Isabela

On the 21^st of January we spent the day getting the boat ready for cruising in open waters.  After saying our goodbyes to our dock mates and fellow prisoners of Marina Mazatlan and receiving our checkout papers from the office, we negotiated our way out to Deer Island, just off the gold zone of Mazatlan.  There we spent a roily night at anchor along with a handful of other boats.  The southern anchorage, Stone Island, was closed for overnight use as was the old harbor because there had been a couple of recent incidents of dinghies and outboards being stolen.  Thus the Deer Island anchorage was our only option in the Mazatlan area.

Artwork on the Mazatlan Malicon

An aside about the dinghy theft:  We have heard occasionally about people getting their dinghy stolen, or the outboard engine.  Or maybe someone came aboard and tried to steal something out of the cabin and a knife was involved.  When these incidents happen, the cruising community, which is pretty close knit, spreads the word and whatever harbor or anchorage was involved becomes a topic of discussion on the radio nets and folks just stop going there.  Little did the petty thief know that his actions would take away the lucrative trade with the cruising community.  In Mazatlan a few years back some folks from a cruise ship got robbed at knife point while out in the city on an excursion.  The news circulated and soon the cruise ship lines discontinued all their stops in Mazatlan.  Now back up north in the U.S. or Canada, petty thefts happen all the time and that does not stop the tourists, but down here, the mere wisp of trouble sets us running for the hills.  Sorry to get off on that tangent…… but…   

Obligatory sunset photo

We were in no hurry to leave the next morning because the trip to Isla Isabela would take 24 hours more or less and we didn’t want to approach the island until the sun was over the horizon.  After a big breakfast we motored out and soon caught a light northwesterly which worked wonderfully with the big nylon gennaker headsail.  We sailed through a beautiful sunny day, taking turns at watch.  Connie devised a watch schedule that we wanted to test on this overnight trip. 

Breakfast just off Deer Island

It works like this:

SV           CB
9-11       11-1       2 hour shifts
1-4          4-7         3 hour shifts
7-11       11-3       4 hour shifts
3-6          6-9          2 hour shifts

However, we changed the watch schedule somewhat when circumstances kept us from sleeping.  At sunset we were doing very well with the gennaker so we left it up and I went down for a nap.  At 7:00 PM as I came on watch the wind was getting stronger and we knew we had to douse the lightweight sail and run out the heavier headsail.  But first we bolted down some cold dinner of chicken and potato salad.  By this time the seas were rough and we had a tough time of it, wrestling the gennaker down in the dark.  The boat went sideways to the swell and we were tossing violently as Connie and I held on for dear life struggling with the lines. We finally got the sail tamed and the Genoa unfurled.  Then with the boat clanking around we methodically went through all the lines and halyards securing them tight, as well as the spinnaker pole which was banging on the mast.  Lesson learned…. Again:   Change down the headsail before sundown and secure everything. Don’t wait until it is dark.  Also, get the engine on and slowly run downwind under autopilot to keep the boat steady while doing sail changes. 

After all that action we were exhausted.  Connie went down below and cleaned up the mess as everything on the navigation desk had gone flying to the floor.  After this we were both feeling nauseous.  Connie collapsed on the settee and I hung my head over the rail for a while fighting to keep my dinner down and the boat did its active jig downwind in the leftover seas. 

The “jig” as I call it is the motion of the boat which can be gentle or violent.  When you first start off on a trip you might be alarmed at how much the boat moves around.  This is a 30,000 pound ship.  How can it be tossed around like a dinghy?  But tossed around it is and at first it seems pretty extreme.  But you eventually get used to it and when the violent tossing settles down to moderate tossing you think you are on easy street.  Newcomers aboard get a little freaked at the amount of movement but after a few days the crazy up and down and side to side action becomes normal and everyone settles in.  You don’t set a cup down and expect it to be there when you reach for it again.

Back to the story….

By 11:00 PM Connie came on deck looking a little green and I suggested she go below until she could actually claim some shut eye.  By then the wind had dropped but not the sea, so we started the engine and motored.  This calmed the boat somewhat and Connie was able to catch some sleep.  She came back up at about 12:30 AM to take her shift and I went forward to the Vee and crashed.  Later on Connie said that Traveler passed another sailboat coming from the other direction and the two skippers flashed their flash lights at each other in greeting.  Aside from that, the sea was empty.  At 4:30 AM Connie shook me awake saying that it was time for me to come up deck because she was hallucinating that ships were coming at us.  She had the radar on which showed nothing.  So I took my shift and Connie went below for some much needed sleep.  

Mona Menor islet off Isla Isabela

Halfway through my shift the wind came up and I switched off the engine, rolled out the genoa and we had a beautiful sail into the glow of sunrise to the southeast.  Just before sunup a legion of hundreds of frigate birds approached from the south getting an early morning start on their feeding.  They had left their families on Isla Isabela and were flying forth to bring back breakfast for the baby chick.  At 8:00 AM I woke Connie as Isla Isabela was directly off our starboard beam.  Two gorgeous skyscraper rocks defended the eastern side of the island, Mona Mayor and Mona Menor.  White with guano they gleamed in the sunlight. We jibed around and found the southern anchorage dropping the hook in 30 feet of water on a rocky bottom.  After breakfast I napped and at about 11:00 we blew up the two inflatable kayaks and headed ashore for what was to be a fantastic nature viewing experience.