Hotel Traveler revisited

Yet another long sandy beach.

Note: I'm still messing with the email notification settings for this blog.  Click on the title on the post to take you to the full text with pictures.  sv

It is a sunny day, as are all days here, in the bay at Tenacatita.  We just got back from the beach after paddling our inflatable kayaks to shore. Actually, Connie joined a  dozen other folks who were swimming from the sailboat Harmony the half mile to the beach.  Connie and I paddled over to Harmony from our boat and she slipped into the water.  I took the painter from her kayak and towed it to shore.  Some folks started up a bocce ball game there and others went to see if any turtles had hatched out last night. Down the beach there is a fenced in hatchery there where they re-bury found nests so the little ones can hatch out in safety.  Once out of the nest the keepers put the little turtles in a concrete basin so they can practice swimming and learn how to flip themselves over.  The next evening they are taken to the water's edge and released, bypassing  the seagull and pelican gauntlet that is always present in daylight.  After looking for turtles we walked back down the beach to the little palapa restaurant, La Vena, and joined everyone for a cold beer before paddling back to the boat.

Today is truly our first rest day solo as the last two days have been filled with post-guest chores and provisioning. I sleep in and Connie gets up and has green tea while she writes in her journal.  We turn the radio off and take our sweet time getting going for the day.

Obligatory flattering pic of CB

Last week we had a great visit from our Seattle friends Lisa and Keith and now we are taking a quick break before welcoming our next set of guests, Scott and Karen, who will arrive from Seattle.  And so we call ourselves Hotel Traveler.

I'll briefly outline how a visit to Hotel Traveler goes.

Guests arrive by bus or taxi, exhausted and hungry and tired of their work-a-day existence.   We meet them in town and herd them through the small cobblestone streets, maybe stopping at a small street side restaurant for a cold beer and a snack.  It's 80 degrees.  Someone fresh from the 45 degree Seattle area might be a little flushed with all this excess heat so we move them slowly and deliberately, staying out of the sun and trying not to sweat.  The visitors are easily spotted here with their blinding white arms and legs poking out from Seattle style black clothing.  Most folks down here for a while wear white or colorful duds and of course they are tan top to bottom.

Barra de Navidad

Soon we arrive at the dinghy landing and we pile everything and everyone into the tender for a slightly wet ride out to the boat which is anchored nearby.  Riding in the dinghy is always a slightly wet experience but it doesn't matter because everything here instantly dries.  Wash a shirt, hang it on the lifeline, go below to get another and when you come back the first one is already dry.  Our first night with guests aboard we hope to have a nice quiet anchorage so that everyone can get their sea legs.  Later we will anchor in a more rolly place that might be less stable but much more scenic.

We'll have dinner aboard and great talk, catching up on trips and friends and stories.  We explain the intricacies of the head and stow everyone's gear.  Slowly the excitement of the trip wears off and eventually everyone beds down.  Our guest cabin is the Vee berth up forward.  It fits (almost) two people comfortably so there is a slight challenge for those couples who are used to a king or queen size bed.  We like to think of it as an opportunity to foster closeness in your relationship, to rekindle those early days of love when you were able to sleep anywhere together.

Luxury accommodations in the vee berth

There is a door to the forward cabin, a mirror, some drawer space and your own screened in hatch.  Two reading lights are mounted on the bulkhead so you can read and have a little pillow talk before drifting off to the gentle rocking of the boat.  You have your own space and we have ours. That's nice.

I'm not the early riser evil captain type so you get to sleep in as long as you wish.  Usually I'm the last one up so that gives everyone time to check out the surroundings and get your bearings.  The boat is normally pointing a different direction in the morning than it was the previous evening.  We'll all have tea or coffee and get a breakfast going before the heat of the day sets in.  I'll move the boom over to one side so the solar panels get full sun and once we've figured everything out (operate the head, brush teeth, find everything that is lost, organize a day pack) we go to town to provision.

A slightly wet dingy trip to town leads us to a safe landing and a stroll down stone streets to one of many little local tiendas where we buy fresh vegetables and beer.  Then we visit the tortillaria to buy fresh tortillas. "Un media kilo maize, por favor".  Next is the fish market to get a kilo of shrimp and a half kilo of sierra or dorado.  We fill our plastic egg cartons with unrefrigerated eggs.  The locals just put them loose in a plastic bag to carry home, something that would not work so well for our hike and dinghy ride.

You gotta steer an accurate compass heading

A little site seeing and we are back at the boat for a nice  dinner and evening of conversation.  In the morning we stow everything carefully and head out into the bay, raise the sails, and start our way to our next destination.  PFDs are optional unless we are in storm or high wind conditions.  If it is fairly calm then we can have a beer at lunch but if it is blowing like snot then the booze is kept locked below and everyone is in the cockpit hanging of for dear life.  But that never happens...

Our new Conestoga style awning

 You will be put to work hauling on lines or taking a turn at the wheel.  Someone has to keep a sharp lookout for whales or fishing pangas.  Later in the afternoon the sea breeze comes up and it can get a little boisterous.  We just hang on and charge ahead to the next anchorage.  We love to sail into the anchorage, turn upwind at the last minute and drop the sails.  The anchor goes down and Traveler backs down to set it firmly in the sand.  We are in 25 feet of clear blue water about 500 yards from the beach.  If it is cocktail hour then we get a snack and all sit in the cockpit watching the sun set.  If the sun is still high in the sky we get busy preparing the ship for the onslaught of the sun.  We unroll the flat sun shade and rig it from the boom gallows forward to the mast.  All hatches are opened.  Then Connie rolls out her new "Conestoga" style sun shade and rigs is from the mast forward to the bow pulpit.  I pull the boom out to one side and secure it in place.  Now Traveler is ready with plenty of shade.  We've got a full refrigerator and pantry.  The water and fuel tanks have been topped off and we are ready for a week of hanging out on the Mexican Costa Alegre.

You gotta pull on the staysail halyard thingamajig

As the sun sets some of the boaters blow on conch shells and the sound echos off the nearby hills.  The pelicans dive for their dinner and the sky turns orange reflecting the setting sun.

What follows is a week of snorkeling, sailing, visits to the the small town nearby, and visits with other sailing couples anchored nearby.  Connie plays music and I sing along.  Our guests meet interesting people and see beautiful flora and fauna.  The water is 80 degrees, nice for swimming or snorkeling.  We drink beer and eat local food in the beach side palapa restaurants. Because we have guests aboard we try to think of interesting things to do each day.  This gets us out of our groove (I won't say "rut") and gets our butts in gear to go further, see more, and pack more activity into our days. 

Exotic beverages

After a week of this we head back toward town and check into the marina where we all shower and experience the wonderful luxury of running water, swimming pools, and grocery stores. As soon as you step ashore the land starts to heave every which way.  We've all got land sickness.  Everyone starts getting a little quiet as the day draws near when the big jet will take the guests away draws near.  We go to town with the luggage and have a last little lunch before the taxi wisks them off, back to the land of rain and cold, snow and ice...  On the plane there are tears and recriminations.

Connie and I pick up a few items at the store and head back to the boat.  We don't talk much, thinking of our friends who are returning to that hectic world of the north country.  We will watch a movie tonight on the laptop and call it an early night.  Then the next day we clean the boat head to toe and wash sheets and towels in a bucket on the dock.  Another day later we provision in town, check out with the port captain and head out into the bay, this time just the two of us.  You know, we enjoy seeing our friends and showing them a good time.  We also enjoy it with just the two of us.  It is all good and very satisfying.

Dan and Kathy from the ketch Lungta

Our friends on Lungta gave me their internet passcode and with us anchored now in their lee I can connect to the internet and this blog site and type out this little message.  I'll find some photos and place them here and there then hit the POST button and out it will go.  

Hotel Traveler is here in Tenacatita, all cleaned up and ready to go.  We have clean sheets and towels in the guest room and look forward to meeting the next folks coming down who will spend their good money on an expensive flight just to hang out with us for a week.  

Contact us for reservations. Our door is always open.

Obligatory flattering pic of SV

Visit from the Dekkers

Lisa, Keith, Connie, Scott

We had the Dekkers down from Seattle for 10 days and had a great visit with them, shuttling between Barra de Navidad and the beach at Tenacatita.  They flew into Puerto Vallarta and took the bus to Melaque.  We met them there and took the quick local bus ride to Barra.  We provisioned and headed north to enjoy the snorkeling, beach walking, and meeting other sailors on their boats.  What a great community!

Now we are back enjoying the dock for a day or two as we reluctantly let these two good folks fly home.

I've had to reset some of the auto-notify settings on the blog.  When you read this blog entry, please email me and let me know if you were notified of this new post by receiving an email to your account.  I hope it is fixed now but won't know unless you tell me one way or another.  Thanks!    sv

Can you spot Traveler in all this mess?

Tanks But No Thanks

I don’t know what the deal is with tankage on Traveler but we’ve had problems with every tank larger than a breadbox.   A tank is only a box with a couple of holes in it.  Why are they so canTANKerous?

Warning:  The contents of this blog entry might prove a little long-winded. You might want to just close this window and go check your Facebook account. 

We are presently anchored in Bahia Chamela just off the little town of Perula

Traveler has… hmmm, let’s count, five big tanks: two fancy 75 gallon stainless steel water tanks under the floor in the salon, two beefy 65 gallon steel diesel fuel tanks under the aft cockpit floor, and one mean-spirited plastic 40 gallon waste holding tank forward.  The big tanks are all located on the center line of the boat, down low, and are connected to their mate with a crossover hose so that changes in fuel or water levels don’t affect the balance of the boat.  The mean-spirited holding tank is way up on the port side in the head (bathroom).  Just like the port side wine storage area, when its full, the boat is in balance.  As we drink up the wine or we empty the holding tank, the boat begins to list a little to the starboard side. There a low tech indicator that tells us when the boat is listing to starboard.  When I’m on my hands and knees trying to find that little tupperware stashed in the back of the refrigerator the refrigerator door will bonk me in the head if we are listing to starboard and I think to myself, “Gotta go buy more vino tinto.”  When we have lots of vino tinto the refrigerator door slams into the oven.  And when we are in a rolling anchorage the refrigerator door slams into the oven then slams into my head over and over until I find that little tupperware or just give up in exasperation and yell, “Connieee!”  I yell this in the same tone as Connie’s son Ezrah used as a child when he’d holler out “Mommmm!”

When the boat is out of balance we don’t ever think, “Gotta fill up the holding tank.”  In fact we rue the day that the damn thing gets full because that means we have to up anchor and take Traveler out to deep water to feed the fishies.  And hence the problem, sometimes those fishies don’t get fed right away.  But we’ll save that tankage story for last.

We found slow internet for 50 pesos at Playa Dorada

First, what about those sexy 75 gallon water tanks?  We noticed two possibly connected events (or symptoms) last spring.  The bilge pump was running occasionally and our water tank levels were losing water slowly, ever so slowly.  One day in the haulout yard I pulled up the floorboards and asked our knower-of-all-things marine guru Bob to take a look at the water tanks.  He thought they were sexy but like most things too sexy there might be trouble brewing within.  Evidently with stainless steel tanks, little bitty pin-hole leaks can develop over time.  Being stainless, this did not mean rust, just tiny little holes… one or two perhaps.  It happens all the time.  The solution was to have the “boys” cut more inspection ports into the tops of the tanks, clean out the tanks, and spray the insides with a resin mix that would find and seal the pin-hole leaks.  “Make it so!” the Admiral says.  Now our water tanks actually hold water.  More on that story can be found here.

Second, those beefy old diesel tanks had me at sixes and sevens.  Not soon after I bought the boat we had the tanks cleaned out and inspected.  Then I filled them with 120 gallons of diesel.  Little did we know that the crossover hose had a hole in it.  Hours later with the bilge pump cycling every 15 minutes pumping fresh diesel into the pristine marine environment off San Diego bay we began a fire drill that ended up with an emergency haul out into the yard and a night of fuel transferring into two 50 gallon barrels on a pallet on the ground below the now land based Traveler.  More on that story can be found here.

Note:  Jump to January 2015 and I tell the story of replacing those black steel diesel tanks.

And third, the saga of the holding tank.  It laid in wait for us to become comfortable with her performance.  Over time, urine combined with salt water to produce calcium deposits in the waste lines and tank.  Connie and I rebuilt the head once and cleaned out the calcium.  Then later when the head smell got worse we had all the waste hoses replaced in the yard and she smelled sweet again.  Little did we know that there was evil lurking inside the holding tank itself. Terror struck as we made our way down from Mazatlan to La Cruz.   When on the dock, we use the facilities ashore just so we don’t have to deal with pumping out the holding tank every week.  Off the dock finally, and heading south, we started using the head. Our first stop was at the beautiful bay at Mantenchen.  Anchored in the bay in 20 feet of water we switched the Y valves in the head to direct the poop into the holding tank. 

Our internet spot at Playa Dorada.  Notice the coconuts around the bottom of the palm sprouting new trees.

When out at sea we discharge directly overboard, but when at anchor we use the holding tank so that our little floating guys don’t surf their way onto the beach or bump into folks swimming in the water.   The next day, after leaving Mantenchen, we opened up the valve to drain the holding tank.  Our next overnight stop was at Chacala where we again closed the valve.  It was interesting that in Chacala a woman swam out to our boat aghast because she was swimming and reached out to touch something she found in the water and it turned out to be a turd.  She swam to all six boats anchored in the bay to make sure everyone was using their holding tanks.

Between Chacala and La Cruz we again opened the valve to feed the fishies once in deep water.  We were feeding BIG fish out there and I caught one and another took the lure!  We anchored in the bay at La Cruz happy to be back.  On the third day at anchorage the holding tank blew up.  The pressure inside made it difficult to pump the toilet handle and a bad smell ran through the boat.  Connie went up on deck and opened the pump-out cap to look inside.  When she pulled off the cap, brown water streamed out and down the gunnel.  She made some choice sounds that were quite entertaining to the captain.   How could the holding tank be so full?  We’d been dumping it every other day!

Moments before the waterfall of stink cascaded down

Thus began a saga that was to last two weeks.  I spent hours looking at valves and removing the wall in the shower to reveal the holding tank in all its glory (gory).  We tried going out to deeper water to empty the tank but it wouldn’t cooperate.  So we motored into the marina and paid 100 pesos for a pump-out.  In doing so we found that not only was the exit elbow at the bottom stopped up but the air vent on top was also plugged.  My theory was that the calcium deposits had gotten into the tank and were rattling around in there for some time before they finally clogged the exit.  Then the head filled with our wonderfully sweet smelling effuse.  When the level reached the top, some solids clogged the air vent and then we had a pressurized 40 gallon $hi# bomb ready to bust out. 

Getting to the air vent was fairly straightforward.  After poking at it with several different wires and failing to clear the vent I figured I’d stop messing around and just drill it out.  Using a long skinny drill bit the job was done in no time and I heard a whoosh of air entering the tank.  But still it did not drain.  We tried vinegar. We tried chemicals.  With every addition the tank filled.  I knew that eventually I’d have to empty that tank again if kept this up.  I put out a call for help on the VHF.  My friends suddenly got plans elsewhere, saying, “Good luck with that.”  Finally I got a call from the sailboat Elegant Sea.  Chip had a plumbing snake I could use.  So I sat myself down in the head with feet and hands under the sink and disassembled the Y valve that connects to the elbow at the bottom of the holding tank.  I used a heat gun to warm the stiff outlet hose so I could worm it off the connection. Then I took the snake and shoved it up the hose, turning it around and around to grind through whatever was clogging up the works. 

Dan has a big flask of rum!

With a cry of “Get the bucket, Connie!”, I announced my success as brown liquid steamed down the pipe and into my lap.  The smell was overwhelming but my pleasure was extreme.  We filled the bucket and Connie took it topside to dump as I put my palm over the pipe to stem the flow.  After a few of these iterations we had an empty tank.  The good thing about a boat is that any large amount of liquid you spill inside the boat makes its way into the bilge.  After I reassembled everything we set about cleaning up the boat and cleaning up a stinky me.  Pulling up the floor boards we found that the “spillover” had indeed found the forward bilge.  However the bilge pump there had stopped working.  I scooped it all up with a cup and bucket and we scrubbed everything with water and bleach.  Connie fixed the bilge pump by replacing a 4 amp fuse.  But the boat stank and we had company coming for dinner.

Wall back in place, glue setting.

We ate in the cockpit that night and burned incense down below in the cabin.

A week later, thinking we had this thing licked, we motored out into deep water and brought the boat to a halt.  I peered over the side as Connie opened the valve to drain the holding tank.   Nothing!

So we went into the marina rented a slip for two nights.  Docked there, Connie tried using a plunger on the hole outside the boat and under the water.  Upside down with her feet wedged in the dinghy, arms and face in the water.  If it worked then she’d get a dose of the brown magic in her face. It didn’t work.  Then we decided to apply pressure from the top.  I stuffed a water hose into the deck fitting and Connie turned on the dock water spigot full power.  The water pressure at the La Cruz marina is extreme.  The tank filled to the top and brown liquid started pissing out the air vent.  I put my finger over the vent and held the hose in place.  Suddenly the pressure broke through the damn and a plume of brown effluent spewed into the water between our docked boats.  “$hi#!”, I yelled and ran below to close the valve.

A ring around the full moon on our overnight passage from La Cruz to Chamela

Back topsides I could see the brown plume spreading through the blue water and smell the results of my handy work.  I started up the engine, put her in gear and engaged the propeller to create a current.  Then I got in the dinghy and tied it alongside using its engine to encourage the brown plume to make its way into the fairway between the docks.  A young Mexican removing varnish on the boat next to us held his nose.  We stared at the sky, whistling and trying to look innocent.  Soon the visible evidence was gone. The blue water in the marina had a slight haze about it.  The smell lingered for the rest of the day.

The next day, back in the anchorage, we used the holding tank again.  And again it clogged.  But we were able to take her out into deeper water and use the salt water wash down pump and an old garden hose to push the effluent out.  Our hope now is that after cycling enough water through the tanks and lines we will eventually get all the calcium and other solids out of the tank.  Meanwhile, our policy is to avoid mixing urine with saltwater in our holding tank.  In other words, we pee in an old yogurt container and toss it over the rail.  Personally, I find it much more rewarding to do my peeing standing in the cockpit looking at the boats at anchor than doing my business inside the confines of the head. Connie likes it too.  I bought a plumbing snake the other day to have on hand in case the salt water pump cannot clear the blockage.  Having bought it, I probably won’t have to use it. My fingers are crossed.

Sorry to belabor you with this long winded account but you know you could have just stopped reading when I first warned you.  Try as I might, I can’t find any more tanks on this boat.  If I did, then surely it would clog or leak.  That’s just the way it is with a boat. Everything will eventually break.  All systems eventually fail.  Why do we put up with such nonsense?  Here is why.

 

The Lure of La Cruz de Huanacaxtle

La Cruz de Huanacaxtle

I'll be dogged if it ain't been almost four weeks since we sailed into this bay, all the while anchored off the magical little town of La Cruz de Huanacaxtle.  We are a bus ride from the city of Puerto Vallarta and all the services and provisioning you could ask for in a large Mexican town.  We dropped the hook just off the beach and a couple of hundred yards from a nice resort that forgot to secure its WiFi, thus I've got internet on the boat.. at anchor.  The anchorage is just off the marina breakwater and a short dinghy trip to the dock.  At last count there were 41 boats anchored here, mostly sailboats.  Why so many boats?  I'm not sure about them but for us, there is just too much fun going on to allow our departure. 

The little town has numerous restaurants and music venues, without a cover charge, and all have a laid back atmosphere.  The cobblestone streets teem with little mom and pop taco places and small grocery stores.  The butcher is next to the tortilla shop is next to the veggie market is next to the beer store.  For those of us who won't shop at Wallmart and shy away from large chain stores it is a delight to provision here.  You feel like the peso you give to the cashier goes straight into the community.  This is a place where when you are in a little restaurant and they run out of something, the waiter jogs down the street and and is back in minutes with whatever the cook needs.  Kids play on the streets till late at night and music fills the air at all hours. 

The longer you stay here, the more people you meet and the more dinner invitations you get.  We've met a passel of people here having ingratiated ourselves into the cruising community by dent of my wit and charm and Connie's musical talents and dashing beauty. 

Connie and Jerome

Last night Connie sat in with some local musicians at El Jardin del Pulpo (Octopus Gardens) and tonight we'll have dinner aboard Lungta, a friend's boat here in the anchorage.  The marinas are in full swing in January with workshops and presentations of interest to the boating community such as electronics, navigation, solar charging systems, and weather.  

Sewing a new awning for the front deck

But still, four weeks is just too long to stay in one place, especially with the most serious boat project being a clogged holding tank!  Time to get on down the coast.  But since we stayed out too late last night we should stay another day to rest up.  Then there is the fact that the port captain won't be open tomorrow for our check out so we must wait til Monday.  And Monday will be a busy day there so perhaps we'll wait til Tuesday.  But there is an event I want to go to on Wednesday so..... See how it goes?  Insidious, the siren song town of La Cruz.

Next up (down) the coast is the wonderful Costalegre "Coast of Joy", the area of small anchorages between Bandaras Bay and the coastal town of Manzanillo.  There we will pick up our good friends Keith and Lisa Dekker and shuttle them around the cruising waters of Barra de Navidad and Bahia Tenacatita.  Later in February we are hosting our friends Scott and Karen from Seattle for a week.  In March we plan to be in Zihuatanejo for Guitar Fest.

This is NOT Traveler, I wish it was.  This is the sailing vessel Dazzler. Dan just finished painting the top sides.

Self Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus

As a child I was very comfortable on the water and in the water.  We were a boating family and spent our summers on the Ohio River anchored bow and stern off the beach.  I sea kayaked quite a bit in the 90s but didn’t do much swimming in the frigid waters of Puget Sound and around Vancouver Island.  And then I upgraded into a sailboat and did some wonderfully exciting sailing summer and winter in the Seattle / BC area.  Now that we are on the boat in Mexico I’m finally in warm water for the first time since my youth.  And I find that I’ve lost some swimming skills.  When I can, I jump into the water and swim around the boat just to get comfortable.  But, I’ve got a ways to go.

We thought at first this was our ferry boat panga.

Connie and I have attempted to clean the hull on Traveler using our snorkel gear and have had some success but neither of us seem to be able to submerge deep enough to clean the massive keel. So we have considered SCUBA or maybe a hookah device for that job. 

Last year we were anchored in Ensenada Carrizal near Manzanillo and we decided to do some snorkeling off the boat.  Connie suggested we take the dinghy but I insisted that we could swim over.  About halfway across with a chop forming on the water I started having difficulty, getting water into my snorkel and mask.  I ripped off my mask and gasped for air and felt myself going down.  I tried to calm myself but ended up calling for Connie to come assist.  She swam back, calmed me down and hauled me to land so I could recover.  It is in this context that I relate the following story about learning how to SCUBA dive.

This guy did an amazing job handling the panga

Connie’s daughter Tesla and her boyfriend Justin gifted Connie a very nice SCUBA setup, everything she’d need to dive.  In California this last summer we took that gear to a dive shop and were able to parlay it into two full rigs so that Connie and I could both dive.  Now in La Cruz we decided to take diving lessons and get certified in the process.  We looked at various high quality programs then found a cheaper option with Chico’s dive shop so we teamed up with Vicki and Lane on Adesso and the four of us did some studying then showed up at dawn at Chico’s on a Sunday morning.  

Rudolfo gave us a short verbal class standing on the sidewalk outside his shop.  We asked where the pool session would be and he just smiled.  Most of the dive instruction programs have you get into a swimming pool to practice with the gear before setting out on your open water dive.  But no, we walked down the beach and boarded a panga and went straight out to an anchored catamaran dive boat. Turns out that the “pool” was a very large pool.. the ocean. 

Dive master, Fausto

On the dive boat we met Fausto, our dive instructor.  He showed us how to connect our octopus to the tank and rig the BCD (buoyancy control device).  I’m getting nervous, looking at all this heavy gear that looks like it would take me straight to the bottom.  When we got to Los Arcos, a popular dive location just south of downtown Puerto Vallarta, one of the guys did a free dive with a fat rope in his hand and tied it off on a big rock 25 feet down.  All around us were other tour boats with pasty white gringos aboard planning on swimming or snorkeling or paddling.  

We got on our wetsuits, put on our weight belts, 16 lb for me and 8 lb for Connie.  This turned out to be too much for me and not enough for Connie.  Then the mask and flippers and the BCD with a huge aluminum tank on the back.  I stuck the mouth piece between my trembling lips and sure enough, I could suck air into my lungs.  Then Fausto had us get into the water.  Yikes!  But I did float.

Once Fausto joined us in the water he motioned for us to hold onto the anchor line and start to descend by holding a hose above our head and pressing a release valve.  Soon the water came up to my goggles, then I was underwater… and I was breathing.  Breathing pretty fast but I’m not drowned yet.  I started to descend, taking time to clear my sinuses every few feet. Connie fought her way under the surface by hauling herself down the anchor line.  I dropped like a rock.  Soon we found ourselves on the bottom doing the OK signal.  My pulse rocketed, my breaths came rapidly.  I kept saying to myself, “Don’t panic.”

Dive boat with panga towing astern

Our dive instructor had his hands full keeping the four of us together as one or another kept floating up towards the surface and he had to motion for the rest of us to stay put while he swam up to haul someone back down. Fausto found rocks on the bottom and started stuffing them into the BCDs for Vicki and Lane to hold them down better.  Once we got our buoyancy under control we went for a little underwater swim.  Fausto found a puffer fish and passed it around to the group. It was all quite magical and I forgot to panic, getting my breathing under control, and actually starting to enjoy the experience.

Vicki, Lane, Connie, Scott

To ascend, we found the anchor line again and went up hand over hand to the surface.  Then we inflated our BCDs so we would float at the surface.  The boat crew helped us get out of our weight belts, and BCD/air tanks so we could haul ourselves back aboard.  Whew!  That was an exhausting 45 minutes.

On the way to the next dive site, Fausto ( we were all beginning to really like this guy by now ) coached us as to what we’d do next.  After a quick snack we suited up again and this time took a giant step off the back of the boat.  I plummeted to the bottom and Connie fought her way down.  This time we had a sandy bottom so we practiced trying to hover in place with the tips of our flippers touching the sand and our chests rising and falling slightly with our breaths.  We then took a little swim around and by this time I was ready to stop this nonsense as my nose hurt from pinching it and my legs were starting to cramp. 

Vicki on lookout, with Connie being just cooler than hell and Lane getting his groove on.

We surfaced again and I flopped aboard like a wounded fish.  It was all smiles as we headed back to the beach for a Panga landing and short hike back to the shop to find Rudolfo who said he’d meet us there after the dive.  There was no Rudolfo so we found some NAUI books and a DVD to watch and a long worksheet to fill out and then caught a taxi back to La Cruz.  

The day had started before sunrise and ended in the dark so it was a very long day for us.  Later, back on Traveler Connie and I tried watching the DVD but it went on and on, too long and the hour was getting late.  We took the workbook and used the manual to look up all the answers and did our best to complete as much as we could before falling down at about 11:00 PM exhausted.

Day two started out like day one with a short intro from Rudolfo, a panga ride to the catamaran, and a delightful motor out to Los Arcos.  I’m tired. Connie, Vicki, and Lane are tired. But we had smiles on our faces and were ready to jump into the water when the boat got its mooring line tied around the rock.  The scene around Los Arcos was a madhouse with lots of small boats negotiating around swimmers in the water.  On this day we had about 6 other divers along on our boat and another 8 snorkelers, a crowded boat.  So Fausto, as dive master, had to pawn us off on Daniel for the day’s instruction while he attempted to keep track of 14 folks in the water.  Daniel turned out to be a very good instructor, being very thorough in his explanations. 

Daniel assisting Connie back aboard

We adjusted the weights, giving Connie extra and taking one off my belt.  After taking the giant stride off the boat we descended all together without the anchor line.  Down below we formed a circle and Daniel motioned for us to start our training procedures.  We took the regulator out of our mouths then put it back in, clearing it of water with a big puff.  Next we took the regulator and threw it away, found it again, purged it and started breathing again.  We repeated various scenarios of losing the regulator, watching each person do the drill in turn.  Without the extra weight I kept floating towards the surface and expended lots of energy trying to stay down.  I figure my weight to carry is not 16 lbs and not 12 lbs but probably 14 would be a perfect amount.

Next was the “out of air” drill.  I made a motion quite like getting my throat slit and Connie grabbed me and whipped out her secondary second stage regulator offering it to me. I took mine out of my mouth and grabbed hers and we buddy breathed together.  Then she wiggled her fingers and pointed upwards, the signal to proceed to the surface.  We started going up then Daniel grabbed my leg and we came back down.  I gave Connie back her spare regulator, cleared mine and started breathing through it again. 

Los Arcos dive location

We took a break up top then started our fourth and last dive.  At the bottom we assumed a yogi position, grabbing the tips of our flippers. This didn’t work so well for me so I just floated prone. Connie floated upside down.  The point of this exercise was to establish buoyancy so that we hovered in the water, not sinking and not rising.  With Daniel’s coaching I finally got it down and got the high five and fist bump.  My chest swelled with pride… and I started to rise uncontrollably. 

Yea Baby, That's what I'm talking about!

Next was the big challenge for us all: clearing the mask.  We started by letting a little water into the mask, then tilting the head back and exhaling through the nose to force the water out.  Then we let in more and finally filled it up.  At the end we had to remove the mask entirely and put it back on and clear it.  I shut my eyes and took off the mask, holding it at arm’s length.  Then I wrestled it back on getting my hair out of the way.  I tilted, I blew, and I opened my eyes to find they were underwater.  Stinging salt!  It took me a few tries to finally get the mask cleared.  In the meantime I swallowed about a quart of sea water through my nose.. yum!  Thank Dog that exercise was over.  I got the high five again and we headed across the sea floor looking for more depth.  Finally we surfaced a couple of hundred yards from the boat and she came over and picked us up.  

What did you get for Solstice?

Back at the shop we found Rudolfo who gave us a little review and we were done!  Finished. Certified. We found a taxi and headed back to La Cruz to rinse out our gear at the dock in darkness then dinghy out to Traveler where we collapsed, fatigued beyond belief.  It’s taken us two days to recover from all that physical activity and stress.  It remains to be seen just how much diving we will do but now we know that if we need to dive down to check the anchor or unwrap a line from the propeller we can do so.  We’ll also be able to clean that big keel.  Gosh, aren’t we growing up into the boater’s life quickly! 

So if you want to get certified and want to quickly get-er-done, head down to Puerto Vallarta and I’ll hook you up with the gang at Chico’s.  Just strap it all on and jump in!  Easy Shmeasy!

The next day was christmas eve