Exceso Sodio Exceso Azucares

 

We're in the tomato products aisle at the big Guaymas box store and every single bottle and aseptic package has a large warning label saying that the product contains excessive salt and excessive sugar.  There are no options here without excessive-ness.  I suppose the wise consumer would take themselves over to the vegetable aisle where an entire pallet of tomatoes lie waiting to be cooked down into sauce.  Then you could add your salt and sugar in a non-excessive amount.  It's good that the Mexico consumer protection people are looking out for everyone, but I don't think these labels are doing the trick.

We are provisioning for the umpteenth time, each time thinking we are just about ready to start our voyage.  We provision, we fix things, and wait for stuff. We eat our provisions. We provision again.  Too much salt and too much sugar.

We bought a boatload of stuff and headed to the parking lot where we found our truck with three perfectly good tires and one that was completely flat, but only on the bottom.  Get out the jack, the spare, the tools.  Once we got the wheel off, four guys who were part of the team of pilots ( the guys who escort wide loads down the street ) jumped out of their van and decided to take charge of the situation saying something to the effect that I was too skinny and old to be doing such work. 

Respectfully, I stood back.  Connie was still cranking away at the car jack.  " Connie.... let them do it."  Reluctantly, she handed off the tire iron and the pilots finished the job quickly and in good humor.  Lots of hand shakes all around.  How wonderful are the Mexican people?

30 minutes later we stopped at the San Carlos llantera place where they fix tires.  I pulled out the flat tire and our good man Juan Hernandez aired it up, tossed it into a vat of greasy water, found the leak, and pushed in a patch.  He jacked up the car with Connie sitting in it, changed the tire and put the spare in the back... all in the space of 10 minutes.  "Cuanto?"  "Cien Pesos."  That's 100 pesos, about 6 bucks.  I gave him 200 pesos.  How wonderful are Mexican people?

Connie and I were provisioning for the umpteenth time in preparation for crossing the Sea of Cortez, the Golfo de California. Earlier in the day we spent the entire morning with Beto, the mechanic, as he adjusted the valve clearances, cleaned up the salt water pump, changed out the alternator belt, and changed the oil and filter.  We had finally put the required 20 hours on the newly rebuilt engine and it was time for Beto to follow up with his last blessing of the Isuzu.

When we left you last we were preparing for what we hoped was our final launch.  We'd already had two launch disappointments where we ended up hauling out again to fix a leaky thru hull.  On this latest launch day, the crew dipped Nepenthe into the water, running the big hydraulic armed trailer down the ramp.  I jumped aboard and checked the bilge and each individual thru hull fitting.  Way back in the ass-end of the boat I saw water.  Another one of the thru hull fittings was leaking water into the boat.  I - BLEW - UP !!!

Dinner at La Palapa Griega

How can this be? How can we have now four out of six new thru hull fittings fail?  And why did they fail one at a time?  I signaled to the driver.... Haul us back to the yard.
Back on land, I grabbed a ladder and fixed it to the boat so we could climb up.  Garth arrived looking pretty sad. We had a quick conversation where I said, " This one's on your dime."  

"Yep" he said.

We removed the fitting, found the problem, and re-glassed the opening.  The next morning at 7:30 AM we drilled new holes, applied the sealant, refitted the mushroom, sea cock, and mounting screws.  I arranged for a launch that afternoon at 1 PM and put a coat of bottom paint on the repair at noon.  Garth went to the office and forked over the $450 in launch fees.

By the time we launched the wind had piped up considerably.  Normally we would not launch so late in the day, especially when a norther was ripping down the coast.  But it was the day before the marina services were set to shut down for four days to celebrate Jesus returning from the dead.  It was holy week, Semana Santa.  And all hell was going to break loose as the locals were descending upon San Carlos to party down for four days.   Either we go in the water now or we live in the boat yard while the party continues around us for four days.  

We launched.

No leaks.  

The guys on the launch team took our lines and walked Nepenthe backwards out of the slip entrance.  They tossed the lines aboard and I hit the throttle to turn Nepenthe into the wind.  The wind had other ideas though.  She (the wind) pushed the bow down and we found ourselves heading deeper into the marina instead of pointing out into the bay.  In order to get control of the vessel I had to get more way on so I sped forward hoping the rudder would bite.  At the next fairway I slammed the rudder hard to starboard and tried to do a 180 degree turn to point me back into the wind.  We almost made it but came up a bit short, barely missing a few very expensive boats.  I nosed the bow in toward a piling next to an empty slip, thinking that maybe we could take refuge there.  Connie fended off at the bow.  Then many, many active Mexican dock workers, charter captains and charter crew members showed up at the slip finger and they grabbed our bow pulpit and flung it around the piling, through the eye of the wind, and out towards freedom and a clear fairway to exit the marina.  A cheer went up all around us!

Full throttle, we drove Nepenthe into the wind.  It must have been 20 knots by then.  Slowly we drove out of the Marina and into the bay where we executed a perfect drop of the massive 60 pound CQR anchor and let out 120 feet of rode to come to a blessed stop in 20 feet of depth.  Connie and I looked at each other and started laughing.

Anyhow, we launched, we floated in the bay during Semanta Santa, we drove the boat around the get some hours on the engine and we watched 30 or 40 charter boats in an endless parade in and out of the harbor.  Every one of those boats had their choice of music blasting at full volume.  Later in the gathering dark, the parade showed a crazy array of lights as the sound of tubas and accordions echoed off the cliff sides.

Beto was scheduled to pay us a last visit to adjust the valves and check the engine so we got a slip at the dock to make it easier for him to come aboard.  He replaced a belt that was too wide, tightened up a little drip on the raw water pump, and set the valve clearances.

In the meantime a raging norther started up again so we choose to remain dockside while it blew it self out.  Dinner at La Palapa Griega was a treat.  We had two Canadians playing guitar and drums and singing old Hank Williams tunes.  A few big families came in with a pack of youngsters so the performers played them a couple of appropriate tunes about how "The Bottle Let Me Down" and how "White Lightning" effects your mental state.  I'm sure the little kids appreciated it.

And now we sit in the bay, at anchor, waiting until late afternoon to give the seas a chance to calm down.  This morning, even though the wind and gone down from 20 knots to 5 knots, the seas were still 3 to 5 feet.  You have to give the seas an extra day to give up the extreme bumpy-ness leftover from a big blow.  We hope that by waiting here in the bay for a few more hours, we'll get a calmer night time crossing to Isla Coronados. Wish us luck!