It’s been a busy couple of months since we got back from our cruise this year. Time flys.
People ask, “What have you been up to? Are you OK? We haven’t seen a blog entry!”
OK, but posting a blog takes some work and we’ve had priorities, like flying to Seattle to visit family, and like a big project list of boat work which needs to get done before we start racing.
So the blog post was put aside.
But I didn’t want to put it off forever, so here goes.
First of all, even though the blog has been quiet, we’re fine. We’re back at the dock in La Cruz (though not in our regular spot, that’s another story). We’re going to the gym, we’re playing pool volleyball, and Mexican Train dominoes.
I spent a week in Washington State and got some quality time with my family, that was terrific, even met a new great grand daughter, Saquoia.
And the boat work plugs along. Some new deck paint, big dingy fix, sewed on a sail, lots of small projects, and more to do.
I think the best way to tell you about it is to show you the photos.
After finally hitting escape velocity in May, and breaking free from the gravitational pull of Banderas Bay we travelled south to the Coasta Alegra (“Happy Coast”) which includes places like Chemala, Tennacatita, La Manzanilla, Cuastecomates, Melaque, and more. These are beautiful coastal towns, and bays, very quiet this time of year, and we enjoyed orbiting around this coast for a bit more than two months.
I say orbiting because we just went around and around from one place to another and back again, being lazy mostly, but when the beer ran low we had to go to town, almost any town. Otherwise we stayed at anchor and read books or worked on boat projects, of which we had several. We only put the dingy together once. In Barra we did go into the marina for a few days and hung out with Ted and Brenda on Firefly and saw a few other cruisers who were still out and about during this late-in the-season time of year. Mostly the anchorages were absolutely empty.
Now we are back in La Cruz and experiencing re-entry; re-entry into marina life, cars, shopping, dealing with marina officials. We have stuff to do. Can’t just take long naps every day.
I actually miss the lazy days anchored in Barra Lagoon or Tenacatia.
Of course there are also still boat projects to be done, a whole list of them await us. How far we get on that list nobody knows but we’ve started.
Then there is the marina staff to deal with. First of all they gave our slip to another boat even after confirming it was ready for us two weeks prior to our return. The owner of that other boat promptly left town and his boat can’t be moved. We got a back-up spot but it’s not really ours. Bummer.
Then they raised the marina rates on us for the second time this year and another rate increase is pending in November. Has the facility or the service improved? No. We just pay more.
Well, we’ll survive all of this. We’ll just settle down and get on with our project list.
Oh, one other item, we’re back in the gym and that feels good. We’re a bit off our pace from three months ago, but it’s coming back.
I didn’t get a headache from drinking frozen beer; it’s from trying to keep the beer from getting frozen in the first place.
We have a new refrigerator. New insulation, new liner, new compressor, new evaporator, new thermostat. It worked great for a day or two then it started freezing my beer (plus, it’s using too much electricity).
I started trying to figure out why and I found that the compressor wasn’t shutting off; it ran continuously.
Must be the thermostat.
So I changed the thermostat. It ran good for an hour then resumed freezing my beer.
That’s about when the headaches started.
I checked the control unit. It seems to work perfectly.
This was going on for about a month. We were turning it off at the switch panel and using the phone’s timer to remind us when to turn it back on. (That’s just what I needed, another alarm going off every 30 minutes.)
Persistence is as stubborn does. I dug into the manual. I searched the Internet. I read cruiser’s forum. I sent a support request to Dometic.
And I found something. It was a “maybe”. But the installation manual called for the thermostat sensing wire to be clamped to the evaporator box with half of a loop of the wire inside the clamp. I’d made one and a half loops. (If half a loop is good, one and a half is better, right?). I found some other references to the importance of the sensing wire not touching anything anywhere but at the end where it is clamped.
We spent a couple of few weeks bouncing back and forth between Tenacatita and La Manzanilla, going to Tenacatita if the winds were forecast to be northerly, and over to La Manzanilla if they were forecast southerly.
The problem is that neither anchorage is safe in all winds. In reality what we’re up against boils down to two things: We are cruising in Mexico during hurricane season and there are few good anchorages. During this season the winds can be northerly, southerly, easterly, and westerly, any direction, really, and we don’t like to be caught in a lee shore situation so we watch the weather closely to try to anticipate where the wind will come from and we move if we think we need to.
Despite all this we have enjoyed the peace and quiet of being anchored by ourselves in Tenacatitia. Our only company has been the wildlife. Recently we had a school of Jack Crevalle, which are pretty big fish, (36”) hanging out under our boat. When they took off after some of the smaller fish they made a lot of racket, splashing and sometimes running into the boat with a bang. There is also a pair of dolphins, big ones, who have been giving themselves back rubs on our anchor chain. Now that was startling!
We launched the dingy one day and did a river run, chased some birds, and visited the hotel at the end of the canal. We finished the day off with a great Rollo de Mar (rolled fish fillet with shrimps and almond sauce inside) at the La Vena restaurant.
After a few of weeks we ran low on provisions and we went back to Barra de Navidad. The marina is nice, sort of pricy, but the lagoon is the one great anchorage we know of around here. After doing provisioning and filling the water tanks, fuel, propane, etc, we went out to the Lagoon and anchored.
Judy and I were both up in a flash. We raced up the ladder onto the deck into the overwhelming noise of the canvas flogging, the rigging screeching, and the staccato on the backstay of the flapping American flag. I turned to Judy coming up behind me, and yelled, “Turn on the instruments!”
Reaching the deck our bodies were at once buffeted by the wind, and we hung onto winches for support. We glanced around in the darkness trying to get our bearings, which way are we pointed? What is the wind direction? How much is it blowing?
Then a lull came and everything became silent. The boat sat placidly. Not a ripple on the water. We could see the town to our left, the mountain behind us, and the rocks to our right. We’re not in immediate danger, but we’re pointing to the East, an unusual direction.
Soon another gust came in and again hit us hard. This time we could see it was from the SE; the glowing numbers of the B&G system answered most of the questions but immediately the answers went crazy. The wind was swirling around, coming from every direction and the wind speeds were all over the place.
I wanted to resist. In fact I did resist, but another strong gust changed my mind. We worked together in the howling wind, released the lines, and manhandled the awning.
“If it tries to take you away, just let it go!” I yelled to Judy.
The awnings came down. I took down the flag. The boat became quieter, even in the gusts.
Judy had been right. With the canvas down, things seemed more under control.
One of Judy’s concerns was if the wind got worse and we started to be in danger and we had to bug out then we’d need to be managing the boat, not struggling with canvas. Our anchoring spot was not a good one for this to be happening anyhow: Rocks nearby to the NW, a headland with reefs close by to the West, and a long sandy surf beach just to the SE of us. Only the NE was clear direction so if we had to leave that was the only way out. But we wouldn’t have much time and with the spinning boat it would be easy to get mixed up. A clear mind was essential. The boat had to be shipshape, ready for sea, and we had to be paying attention.
That was why we wanted the instruments on; the compass and instruments were our guides if we had to move. We knew what course to follow and the instruments would point the way. I was glad we had fixed the instruments the previous day.
After a few minutes the gusts seemed less and we went down below and sat on the settees but we were waiting nervously. We didn’t know if more wind was coming. We also didn’t know if this was a thunderstorm up in the mountains behind the town or what it was. There could be rain, even heavy rain if it was a squall. But no rain came and after a while the wind became steady from the ESE. There were no waves. Wings rocked peacefully. I fell asleep.
Later we decided that it was the SE wind which had been predicted for days and had finally arrived. That predicted wind was the reason we were anchored in this cove at La Manzanilla and we’d been there for two days waiting. La Manzanilla It was the only place around with protection from the SE, but the forecasts grew inconclusive; the SE wind might not even come. We stayed anyhow and we went ashore for some shopping and had a nice dinner there. It was a quiet town and very peaceful. We relaxed, and grew complacent. The wind woke us up out of our complacency.
After this brief SE wind had passed through the weather forecasts called for a return to the typical NW conditions. La Manzanilla would not be good in NW winds. That day we went ashore and bought supplies. Then we set sail back to the Tenacatita side.
Wind Instruments
After being so proud of ourselves for fixing the B&G wind vane we were dismayed that once we got underway the wind direction was not working. The vane spun properly and pointed the right direction but the electrical signal did not get to the computer. We noticed it as soon as we got underway on the trip to La Manzanilla.
I had no confidence that I could fix whatever was wrong inside this sealed instrument, but I was determined to try. Back up the mast. Back down with the mast with the instrument.
I spent a day on the workbench with my meters and test probes. I checked for continuity between all the plugs and wires. I diagrammed the circuit. I finally ran some tests of each synchro path and confirmed, as best I could, that the instrument itself was working, but still, when it was plugged in no signal came through. So it had to be a bad plug connection. I carefully drilled some holes and put in some screws to secure the plug. This seemed to work. When we put the instrument back on the mast it did work. The wind direction readings came through. This was helpful that night when the wild wind came blowing through.
I have no idea how long this 40 year old B&G system will continue to work.
Water vs Power
For over 33 years we have cruised this boat. We’ve always had to run the engine to charge the batteries. Our solar power has never been, with few exceptions, enough to keep up with the electrical demand, primarily from the refrigerator. Even now with bigger solar panels we only generate about 60 amp hours per day. In the past our refer alone has used nearly 100Ah each day. Only when we’ve been in cold water and very sunny conditions has the solar kept up with the demand. The Sea of Cortez in January meets those conditions. On most days, while cruising, we run the engine each day until the batteries are full or nearly so. It has averaged between one and one and a half hours a day.
In addition to the electricity for the refer we’ve always run the watermaker when the engine is running, usually just enough to fill our water bottles for drinking water then we turn off the water maker.
Tonight we are, as my friend Jim Watson would say, “tucked in”. We’re behind an un-named headland in Tenacatita Bay. “Tucked in” means being as far back behind the point at you can get so as to obtain the most protection possible for any kind of wind which might arise and that’s where we are tonight: right back against the shore behind this headland.
Here we have protection from winds from the west or north or south, and SE as far east as 140 degrees, but not more east that that.
The forecast however included the possibility of SE winds, possibly strong (no exact direction given) and tonight the wind has gotten up and it’s from the SE. Right now the wind we’re getting is from 130 degrees, so it’s hitting us and has been blowing here behind our headland as high as 18 knots. But that 130 degree wind is a refracted wind. Outside the wind must be from around 150 and blowing 20 or more. Here, “tucked in” behind this headland, it curves around but loses its punch. The waves don’t come in with any kind of power here either. We can see them sweeping by out in the bay with whitecaps showing, but in here they are lame ducks.
So we’re sitting OK, at the moment.
Our bail-out plan is to leave this little corner of protection if the wind comes in stronger or it gets too rough. We can sail across to La Manzanilla town, 2.7 miles away, which looks to be protected from the SE, although we’ve never been there. We can see the lights of La Manzanilla tonight and earlier those lights were shrouded in clouds and mist and we knew it was raining there. Now it is clear over towards Manzanilla and the light rain we had here also has passed and the wind is dropping.
It’s good that the rain has passed and the wind is dropping. Going to Manzanilla in the daylight would be one thing, going there in the dark, for the first time, in a rain storm, would be something else. We’re hoping that this lull lasts.
I am on deck, writing this, and I smell the aroma of soap wafting up from below. Judy must have taken a shower. The wind has been cool but it is still humid and a shower would be refreshing. I might go down for a rinse off too, and if it remains calm here tonight we will both relax and have a good night’s sleep.
Today the wind went east of south for the first time this year.
We were a little surprised as it wasn’t in the forecast, but not shocked; there were storms brewing out in the Pacific and those storms could mess up the weather without trying and, after all, the summer winds should be predominantly southerly.
We shifted our anchor closer behind the nearby headland for more protection in case the SE wind came in stronger, which it might in the next few days. We circled like a dog getting ready to lie down, just to check out the surroundings before dropping the anchor in 15 feet.
It looked safe but if a strong easterly comes in we’ll move over to the bay at La Manzanilla. I don’t worry about that eventuality, I even relish it, as we’ve wanted to see Manzanilla for a while. An easterly wind would give us a good excuse.
All of this is taking place in Tenacatita where we arrived two days ago from Barra De Navidad, and we can see ourselves staying here, weather permitting, for a week or two. It’s quiet here; no other boats are anchored here and, other than a few surfers and some hotel guests walking on the beach, we are alone. We’re thinking of setting up the dingy and going ashore ourselves. There is a restaurant here which has a good fish roll with shrimp and cheese inside, Rolla Del Mar it’s called, and cold beer. Although with our new refrigerator our beer is pretty damn cold itself. Same with the cokes; one blew up yesterday so we turned the refer down from seven to four.
We’d been in Barra de Navidad for the previous few weeks. We spent a few days in the marina, but mostly anchored out in the lagoon. We were the only boat in the lagoon. It’s been OK though, it’s really quiet there. We love the birds, the solitude, and the scenery. We have friends on their boats in the marina so we take a water taxi and go in almost every day.
The friends in the marina at the Grand Hotel are all from La Cruz, people we know well and like. It has been fun to socialize with Chris and Monica from Sea Glub, Kelly and Deborah from Simpatico, and Ted and Brenda from Firefly. We’ve had a great time with them at various restaurants in Barra and going to the hotel pool and swimming laps with Ted and Brenda. The swimming has helped our bodies recover from the sedentary life at anchor. There are five other boats from La Cruz here for the summer but the crews of all of them were gone somewhere. I won’t be surprised to see more boats in Barra in the future. The summer prices are cheaper and the facilities much better than La Cruz. For us though, the community at La Cruz will keep us going back there.
Yeah, we got a new refrigerator. The old one was acting up for a few weeks but I kept thinking it was a wiring problem or some other thing I could fix. Then, boom! It went down for good.
I was depressed at first but in the end it wasn’t bad; we ordered new parts and started living on bags of ice which, other than not so cold beer, was fine.
It took two weeks for the parts we ordered to make it through Mexican customs and while waiting we refurbished the refrigerator box. The new refrigerator was costly but refurbishment was worth it; the new setup takes less power and has more room for frozen goods.
We’ve had other boat repairs to do, but they have been less expensive. A loose wire on the alternator needed to be refastened. The impellor on the engine finally wore out and we replaced that. There have been a few other repairs we needed to do but not too many.
But then the osprey showed up.
We’ve not seen this bird around here before, but coming back to the boat on Saturday night there he was, perched on our wind instruments. Holy cow! He could break them!
The osprey flew off as we arrived and I saw his huge talons knuckled under his belly as he flew away. That was an omen. Then I noticed the wind instruments: they were broken! That bloody bird and his huge talons had crushed the windvane and there was not nothing left of it. Oh Damn! The wire probe I put up to dissuade frigate birds was apparently no issue for the osprey. He simply pushed it aside.
The whole way to Tenacatita I was thinking of how I was going to fix those instruments, but first I had to get them down and take a close look. Shortly after the anchor was down in Tenacatita Judy ran me up the mast to retrieve what was left of the wind instruments. I found that mostly they were OK but the vane, which provides wind direction, was simply missing. Gone! I looked all over the boat to see if it fell somewhere so I could repair it, but no luck. It was nowhere to be found. The bird must have knocked it off and it landed in the water and sank.
OK, I went to work. I found some aluminum in the lazerette which I could cut with tin-snips, and after making a paper template, I cut out a new wind vane. It looked a little crude but I thought it would work.
Such is cruising. Unless you are lucky something will break every day. You just go to work and find a way to fix it, or you live without it. We don’t know what will happen next, but for sure, something will.
Our Adler Barbour Cold Machine failed after 9 years. We were unable to determine if it was the compressor or the control unit without testing it with a new control unit which I didn’t have. Anyhow, I suspected the compressor since all the functions of the control unit seemed to be working and it was attempting to start the compressor; however, the compressor frequently failed to start. All other tests, power supply, etc, showed normal. After a couple of weeks the refer went down completely and we were without refrigeration. Not a crisis but something we wanted to remedy, and quickly.
We ordered a new Dometic unit (which replaces the Cold Machine) from Defender Industries in Connecticut. We included a new evaporator plate with the order even though our existing one seemed to be OK because the gas fittings between the compressor and the evaporator were compromised back in 2010 when the old unit was installed and I knew that to reuse the evaporator we‘d have to replace the connectors, which would involve replacing the gas, meaning vacuuming the system, gauges, etc., etc.
The shipping was supposed to take 3-5 days (it wound up taking 8 days) so I used that time to refurbish the refer box. There were gaps in the insulation near the top of the box which I filled with spray urethane foam. It took nearly a whole bottle of foam and it was a messy job, but apparently it was worth it because we saw much better performance out of the new system after doing this. I also fixed several cracks in the lining using epoxy and micro balloon filler, and finally repainted the entire box with two part polyurethane paint. I was lucky that we had all of the needed supplies to do this job already on the boat.
We hoped that this refurbishment would make the box’s insulation more effective. We have nearly 6” of closed cell foam on all sides of the box, but until now, (for the last 10 years) it didn’t seem to be very good. We decided to run some tests after the new hardware was installed.
Finally the compressor and evaporator were delivered by FedEx and we went to work to get it installed. While it was still sitting on the workbench I tested the fan amp draw and determined that I could install a second, 4” 3.5 watt, fan to more than double the air flow over the condenser. I also reconditioned all the wiring, and then proceeded to do the installation.
The install went quickly and in two and a half hours after the arrival of the FedEx shipment I had the job finished and the refer running. Other than a bit of anxiety over the correct torque for the gas connections it all went smoothly. One last shot of spray foam to fill the hose conduit and it was totally finished.
Now over one week has passed since we turned the refer back on with the new hardware and the refurbished box. It’s been two days since we reprovisioned and filled the freezer section and the box itself. Everything is cooled down. Time for some tests:
Today, during the hot part of the afternoon, we timed the cycling of the system. Over three cycles we found it to be consistent. The compressor was running around three and a half minutes out of a 14 minute cycle. That was about 28% of the time. The amps while running were 5.6A. So the average power use in amps was 1.56A, or less than 40Ah per 24 hour day, assuming the cycling would be constant for the whole period. Previously we had measured the power usage by the old box at around 100Ah per 24 hour day, so this is a remarkable improvement. We’ll do some spot checks tonight. During the test the ambient air temperature was 89-90F (31-32C), the sea water temp was 82F (27.7C). The refrigerator box was 25-45F (-4-+7C) and the freezer section was 18F (-7.7C). This is on setting 4 out of 10, and actually is slightly colder than we need. The contents of the freezer were frozen solid and some of the beers outside the freezer were also frozen. We’ll play with the settings.
The good thing about the refrigerator’s 40Ah daily load on the batteries is that we are getting around 60Ah from the solar panels so that means we should be able to run on the solar power alone on most days. (Unfortunately we need about 1 hour a day of engine/water maker running to supply drinking water, so I guess we’ll have plenty of electricity.)
So, at this point we are very happy with the refrigerator. Other than costing about 75% more than it should have due to shipping and customs, it was a pretty painless and satisfying process.
For over two months we waited for the Mexican residence permits, for Immigration to finish the paperwork. On any day of those two months could have come the call, “Please come to the office now…”, so we were stuck; we couldn’t really leave Banderas Bay, our plan to go on a cruise was on hold. We accepted the delay, after all, this place is as good as any other place for us to enjoy the peace of the Mexican Spring when most of the tourists and migratory cruisers have departed and the streets of the town are quiet.
We made the best of it by sailing along the coast to Punta Mita a few times, only a couple of hours away. We could always get back if we needed to. The fresh spring winds made sailing the rugged and beautiful coast a joy. We anchored at Punta Mita and friends anchored nearby, their boats a welcome sight rocking gently in the swell. When the surf permitted we all went ashore and played Mexican Train Dominos and drank margaritas at a Punta Mita bar. We had a good time.
At least four trips we made along that coast, and we sailed hard each time and then took two days to recover our aching bodies, but they were aches we relished. Sailing muscles were used, and they felt good.
Finally the day came and Immigration was finished with us. Free! Free! Free!
Do some last minute shopping, put away the car, pay the marina bill (oops, we forgot that one!) and cast off all lines.
Sailing out of the Bay to go to Tenacatita can be a great trip if there is wind and you do it right. Leaving first thing in the morning doesn’t cut it; no breeze then.
But that’s what most people do, leave at the crack of dawn and motor all morning. We left at noon when the thermal winds started to kick in, stayed high of the rumb line, and then raced across the bay on a loose starboard tack towards Cabo Corrientes, sailing in the high 7’s. Another boat was out, a bit to leeward, I saw them in the distance, and they tacked towards us. It looked like they would almost cross us then they tacked back onto our lee bow. I don’t know the name of the boat, but I know the boat, it is a bigger Benneteau, sail number MEX777 which I believe is owned by the Montemayor family from Mexico City, well known in sailing circles. Our two boats sailed together, side by side, for nearly an hour, exactly pacing each other. It was a good match. I watched the crew on that boat and I saw them watching us, both crews trying to judge who was gaining, who was losing.
Little by little we worked out to weather of them. Finally they tacked over and crossed well behind us and I watched them sail off on port tack towards Punta Mita. They hadn’t needed to sail so far to the south if they were going to Punta Mita and I wondered if they went that far out of their way just for the challenge of sailing against us. I watched the white triangle as it grew smaller against the Banderas Bay shoreline in the distance. I wondered who exactly was sailing that boat that they were so keen as go out of their way to match up with us. I understand it though; they are my kind of sailors.
The wind died as we neared Cabo Corrientes, as it often does. We turned on the motor.
I said to Judy, “Since we’re motoring, and the sea is calm, let’s take a look at that cove out here called The Corral”.
“Can we stay there?” she asked.
“Not to stay, just to look.”
So we motored into the small cove and took some photos. I’ve always wanted to see it. We found it deep, even close to shore, and crowded with Pangas. Might be room for one boat, but it would be tight, and open to a northerly wind or swell. Anyhow, information to keep in mind.
We doubled Cabo Corrientes at 6 PM and motored south waiting for the evening wind to come up, which it did and we sailed through the night. It was gentle sailing, on the wind vane and we used only the mainsail so and our speed was only moderate, 5-6 knots, but it was easy and we could rest.
The following afternoon, under full sail, we charged into Tenacatia and had our usual disagreement about where the entrance was, resolved peacefully when Judy’s view proved right, also as usual.
Now we’re anchored in Tenacatita, with one other boat which we don’t know. Kelly and Deborah are in Barra but we think we need to hang out here for a while; going to Barra would mean more partying and we need to give our livers a break.
So what do you do when you finally get out of town? Well, basically nothing, except that we made a mop. Not that exciting but you can see for yourselves. Check out the photos.
The forecast was good for an afternoon thermal and when we came out of the marina we saw ripples on the bay that looked promising so we put the small jib on deck and set first the mainsail and then the jib.
The thermal never came in and the wind stayed light but we were sailing and we enjoyed a slow and pleasant sail to the west, tacking along the rocky coast in the warm sunshine. Some other boats were out and not doing much either and even with our small jib we soon put them behind us except one which we decided was Southern Cross, the Westsail 42 owned by our friend Steve. He and Janet had a huge genoa out and a full main and they were making surprisingly good time up the coast in the light air but they were sailing outside, away from the coastline. We preferred to sail inside, close to the shore, which usually gives good results against boats outside.
Each tack we made I thought would put us ahead of Southern Cross as there was a right hand shift and current too which was against them but their wind was a little stronger and they kept their distance ahead. Finally I told Judy we had to tack out and catch the breeze even though the best strategy here is normally to stay in. We’ve won a lot of races by staying in close along this coast but today it looked like going out would pay and so we tacked onto starboard and held on until we passed behind Southern Cross. When we felt the wind increase we tacked back.
Soon, however, the thermal came as forecast. It was late, but it came and we then had a nice, building, west wind. Soon it was 20knots. With our small jib and everything tight we started to climb out to weather of Southern Cross. Meanwhile with their big genoa they were soon over powered. As we made distance to weather on them we also benefitted from the right hand shift which occurs along this shore.
Southern Cross was far to leeward when we finally tacked into the bay at Punta Mita. I think they might have beaten us if they had sailed closer inshore. Anyhow, it was a good sail for all.
Going up the coast here, from La Cruz to Punta Mita, is one of my favorite sails. We race this route several times each year, sometimes to one of the Beer Can marks which can be placed along the way, sometimes all the way to Mita and we quite often beat other boats who are sailing against us. By now we know each rocky outcrop and each cove and bay and where the wind always shifts and where the current runs. We know the best strategy for sailing it and I never tire of it, and still after five years here doing this, almost every time we learn another subtlety or little trick. It’s really fun.
Let me tell you how it works:
In this chart image I have made notes about what works best.
First of all the route is about 9 miles and the wind almost always is westerly when we first sail out of La Cruz, or Southwesterly to be more accurate. Going to Punta Mita, therefore, is a beat. There is always a choice one can make on this beat. You can sail long tacks far out into the bay or you can short tack the beach. Because the wind, which starts out southwesterly, consistently shifts to the north the farther along you go, which presents as a right shift, it pays to stay to the right. You can see our track (in yellow) on this chart. I’ve put the starboard tack headings on each tack. You can see we start out sailing 198, then 220, then 254, and on the final starboard tack we get a huge lift from 254 up to 284. (I didn’t show the headings after point “E” because there we were taking down the sails as we approached the anchorage.) This is a 90 degree shift and occurs on any day when there is a thermal wind. If you are racing, staying to the right side is essential. Boats that go outside sail a much further distance. Even on the track we took there were places we could have saved more distance and time. Note the blue lines, one set at point “B” and the other set at point “C”. If we had tacked back in at both of those places, following the blue lines, we’d have cut significant distance off the course. The extra tack from point “C” to “D” and then to “E” would have saved nearly ½ of a mile alone. Since we were not racing that day we just took it easy and didn’t do all the tacks we could have.
How far in do we go and how soon should we tack back when going out? Mike Danielson knows this strategy too and he just likes to stay on the “shelf” which extends out to about the 70’ depth line so he tacks back when he reaches that depth. We prefer staying in closer than that. Going out we always tack back towards the shore as soon as we have a good line to clear the next rocky point. There are several of these points and they have off lying rocks lurking under water as extensions of what you can see. We tack in when we know that we can clear the next point and sail into the cove beyond it. You should stay away from the points but you can sail quite far into the bays and we often go into 20 feet of water there, which seems very close but there are no dangers. The water is clear enough and you can see the color change as you approach the shallow areas.
Also, going out puts you into the current. There is a clockwise flowing current in Banderas Bay which seems to be present regardless of the state of the tide. On this beat from La Cruz to Punta Mita you are sailing against that current. The current is less close to shore and at some places there are back eddies which actually help you go against the prevailing flow.
When we race here there are almost always some boats which try to go outside. It’s understandable because often the wind is stronger outside and when they hit that wind the boat speed goes up and they heel over and it feels really great. But when it’s time to tack back in they see that they will come in behind the boats which didn’t go out.
Finally, the best part of this wind shift is the final leg to Punta Mita when your starboard tack is one long lift which can actually carry you right up into the anchorage. You must be in close to get the most out of this lift. On the shore just west of where I have marked “56 Beer Can X” there is a square white house right on the bluff behind the beach. You must be in close at that house. Be careful to stay out of the surf line but go in close on port tack at this point and then when you go onto starboard you will have the best of all worlds: Nice lifting breeze and a flat water.
Next time we will discuss the spinnaker run back.
Enjoy.
Click here for more photos (and a repeat of the sailing strategy.
Then I ordered a new faucet which arrived in La Cruz a few days later, and we picked it up when we went down there for a couple of nights. That was a week ago. We’re still using the temporary one.
Over the VHF radio a call to the fleet is heard, “This is Wings, the rabbit, we are five minutes from the mark. To all you racers out here, be prepared to turn around in five minutes when you see Wings heading back.”
That is the sound of fun on Wednesdays these days, impromptu pursuit races where the fleet chases whoever is in front until the boat in front reverses course and chases them.
It sounds silly and sort of useless, but we love it.
That is because when we are coming into La Cruz in our car and we get a view of the bay and it is filled with whitecaps and green water the urge to get back to the boat and out on the water is strong. That happens a lot, so we love it when we get to go out. While officially our racing is over for the year there are still many great sailing days in March and April. We just cannot give them up. We have this feeling that in our lives there are only so many good sailing days allotted to us and we regret missing even one.
Too often, however, we let these great sailing days slide past, unused. We stay tied to the dock, doing our boat chores or just passing time. Sometimes Judy and I will take a walk around to the beach to watch the waves. Usually, though, we are just looking forward to the next time we can get out there.
“If not today, then how about next Wednesday?”
So, lately, we’ve been going out on Wednesdays for these impromptu races. We call these sessions beer can races, the same name we used for the slightly more formal Wednesday races we had during the season.
But they are hardly races. We do have a start line and a timed start. But after that it’s just sailing.
Because these “races” are so silly we all just have fun and since we all go one way for a while, then turn around at the same time and come back, it hasn’t taken long for us to figure out that the slowest boat on the outbound leg has the least distance to go on the return. There is even the suspicion that one could sandbag a little on the outbound leg so as to have less distance to go to get back. But we don’t think anyone is doing that. Just sailing is so much fun, why waste it going slow?
On Wings we have been very casual about these Wednesdays. Whoever shows up gets to go. We’ll go with five people or ten. We’d even go if it was just Judy and I. But the crews have been fun and we sail pretty well. Often we wind up being the “rabbit”. And usually someone else is first back to the finish line. Who cares? It gives us a chance to congratulate them. Everyone gets to feel good.
The winds have been terrific this month. We’ve been getting nice westerly’s in the high teens and low 20’s. The racing sails are already in storage, and the only spinnaker we have is a 25 year old, beat up, ¾ oz sail Eddie Fracker made for us which was retired as a racing sail years ago. Even sailing with a reduced size Dacron mainsail and a small jib we’ve been able to go fast, and since the only spinnaker sail is pretty tired we don’t put it up in strong breezes; it wouldn’t last. Besides, these races are so short that there isn’t much time on the return trip to get a spinnaker up, the jib down, and do a jibe before we’ve already finished the race.
Well, we did it once, last Wednesday, and it was tight. I told the crew, “OK vacation is over, today we will set the spinnaker.” Which we did, but we barely got it up when it was time to take it down. It was still fun, though, and that is what Wednesdays are all about these days: Fun.
So, soon we’ll be into summer, hopefully Wings will be somewhere out cruising in Mexico, and the racing will truly be over for this season, but at least we’ll know we didn’t waste too many of the great sailing days.
We finished the racing season in March with the Banderas Bay Regatta.
The crew were in high spirits as we sailed home from the third and final race despite the fact that we were disqualified in that race due to a protest and finished third in the regatta.
We’d sailed well anyhow and the sailing in Banderas Bay was excellent and the racing closely fought.
BBR Results
In three races we finished first, third, and sixth (for the disqualification). The boat was sailing fast, the crew work was excellent, and if it wasn’t for a couple of mistakes I made, (for which I take complete responsibility) we would have been second. First place was out of the question. The beautifully prepared and well sailed J145 Double Take was unbeatable. They got first place on day two and three. Second was the J130 Sirocco, who sailed well but we could have beaten them and we would have if I had not underestimated them and backed off on the last downwind leg of race two.
Instead, in that race, we had our focus on Olas Lindas and once we knew we had them in the bag we sailed conservatively. Too conservatively, and we unknowingly let Sirocco correct out. We only needed to have gone .4 knots faster on that one last downwind leg to have beaten them. A spinnaker would have done the trick but with the breeze up and with the tight angle it was a bit dicey and we stayed with the genoa instead of risking our kite. My mistake.
The last day Double Take was well ahead but we had both Sirocco and Olas Lindas until the protest situation with Olas.
We were in close quarters with Olas and there was quite a bit of yelling about who had the right of way and Olas Lindas filed a protest. In the hearing after the race both of us were disqualified. That bumped us down to third. It was little satisfaction that Olas Lindas was also disqualified and wound up last in the regatta.
To have avoided that disqualification I would have only needed to yield a bit to Olas during the confrontation, but I didn’t. Honestly I don’t know why I didn’t. I will next time.
That night the whole crew, plus spouses, came to the awards party on the beach at Paradise Village. We received our third place award and we had a great time. Some of our crew were still dancing on the beach after the band left and the party had thinned out.
On Day two the race was all the way to Vallarta then back. On the way back we had a long close reach then a shorter downwind leg. At “S” we rounded and turned downwind, or rather onto a broader reach. Olas Lindas was still just ahead. We still had them on time. The question was, do we set the kite or stay with the jib? Olas hoisted. We should have.
We debated it. Someone said, “We’re already going 8.5, how much faster will we go with the spinnaker?”
“Ok,” I decided, “We’ve got Olas close enough, we don’t need the spinnaker, no need to blow out a sail, let’s sail conservatively.”
That was correct; we did have Olas Lindas. But Sirocco was up there too and we didn’t have them. We missed that and therefore placed third, not second. That was a point lost that we later needed. And I learned a lesson: Don’t be conservative. The whole crew felt bad. They thought they had talked me out of it and it cost us a place.
The next day the opposite happened. On this day we sailed a beat to “W” then down to “S” and back and this time we were overly aggressive.
The beat was OK, we were leading, but the long leg south to “S” buoy was tough for us. It seems like everyone on the boat but me knew that there would be big breeze on that leg. Judy was calling for the #3 jib to be moved off the rail to the port side and the spinnaker bag pulled off and put below. I didn’t get it. I kept asking “Why?”
Well the reason she suggested that was that she saw that there was big wind down to the south. They all saw it, just not me. I was concentrating on the tell-tails. If someone had said, “Fred, We’re going to get twenty knots on the next leg!” well maybe I’d have OK’d the preparations. But I never got that message. I think they were still remembering the conservative call of the previous day and didn’t want to repeat that mistake. Instead, we were overly aggressive.
So when we rounded the top mark and set course for “S” and the wind came in like a solid force we were unprepared. The boat with a #J1 and a full main was instantly overpowered.
“Don, we’ve got the change to the #J3.” I made the call, belatedly.
But nobody was ready. It was an outside set. It took forever. Meanwhile I was trying to feather the boat and keep the main under control. Richard and I worked together; not easy. The foredeck struggled.
We finally completed the change and got the #J1 down right at mark “S” From then on we were fine. We set the S3 kite and charged. If it hadn’t been for the protest we’d have gotten second in that race, but the overpowered leg wasn’t fun. I’ll remember that.
About the Protest.
We were battling Olas Lindas all week. On the final day, on the first downwind leg, we converged with them under spinnaker. The wind was light. We were on starboard, Olas on port. They jibed, then, while to windward of us, tried to force us to go down, calling “Proper course, proper course”. Well, we had rights to maintain our course. We did. They collided, if you can call a spinnaker brushing on our rig a collision. That would disqualify them.
Shortly after we jibed to port. Olas Lindas also jibed, and now to leeward of Wings, as the boats drew near again, they called for us to “come up, come up”. I judged that I was staying clear, as required of a windward boat. I didn’t move. They kept yelling. I yelled back: Profanity.
No contact was made but Olas Lindas filed a protest. In the protest meeting both boats were found to be at fault and disqualified from that race. More points were lost. Now we were in third place in the regatta not second (or first). So I learned another lesson: Give way and stay out of the protest room.
So, my two mistakes cost us second place. But, I learned some things. It’s funny that after 50 years of racing I still have room to learn such basic things. But I do.
The following Wednesday there was a Beer Can Regatta on the schedule. We planned to sail in it and host a hamburger BBQ on Wings afterwards. Well, there wasn’t a race. Only Wings and Olas Lindas came out.
Mike called off the race and we just went sailing but what a great sailing day it was. The wind got up into the 20 knot range once we sailed up the coast a ways and we sailed together with Olas into the new breeze.
Then we turned down wind and put up the A-3 spinnaker for a close reach back to La Cruz. The boat was steady in the high 8’s to high 9's and was over 10 knots at times. That is good speed for an old IOR boat. Everyone loved it.
Back at the dock I cooked hamburgers on the grill and we welcomed aboard some friends and neighbors. Together with our crew we chatted about the successful season and the great sailing we had that day.
So that is how the season ended. Twenty three races, first in two regattas (Banderas Bay Blast and Vallarta Cup) third in Banderas Bay Regatta, and first in several Beer Can races. Not a bad season.
Our crew has really gelled and are quite good now. We constantly get recognition for our great crew work. Further, they have become like family to us. Breaking up at the end of the season was a bit sad but we hope we’ll get the whole team back next year.
The last two Wednesdays we've pretty much been racing against Olas Lindas and no one else. The other boats have either stayed away or are a lot slower so we don't see them after the start.
But racing against Linda and Patrick Sweet and Mike Danielson on Olas Lindas has been fun. Close starts, good tactics, and photo finishes.
This week we had gotten behind, as we often somehow do, and had to play catch up on the beat to the finish. There was a big wind hole ahead and Olas Lindas was in it stuck a quarter of a mile from the finish. We were another quarter of a mile behind that. Then we spotted some breeze coming off the shore. I hailed Mike on the radio, "Is this the finish? Can we cross anywhere?"
"Yes, the whole line. You still have a chance Fred." I didn't think he believed it but I was determined to try.
We tacked towards the shore in search of that wind. It was there, right on the beach. We had to go close, 15 of water. Caught the wind, great! But need to tack out NOW!
We tacked out. I looked over to where Olas was slowly ghosting towards the finish. We still had some time.
Go out just a little ways then tack back in. At fifteen feet (and about 100 feet from the shore) we caught another puff, but were forced to tack out again.
This is tense: going in looking for wind but when you find it you're almost ashore
Now the breakwater drew near. The water should be deep there but the rocks looked deadly. I decided to chance it.
"I want to go close here", I said.
"There are no rocks", said Richard, "other than the rocks of the breakwater itself."
We tacked again, and we had breeze. We were moving. Quickly. I looked over towards Olas, they were ever closer to the finish line, but at the other end of it, and moving slowly. It would be close.
In 15 feet of water we made one final tack towards the pin then I punched it up and crossed.
TIE! No onw could actually tell who won.
The previous week we caught up with Olas Lindas when they had a problem with their spinnaker. We crossed the line 10 feet ahead.
Every week it is like that.
So now we get ready for Banderas Bay Regatta. That is the last race of the year, three days, and then racing season is over.
We hope to be able to duke it out with Olas Lindas three more times and have close finishes then too.
We had ten women aboard who had never been on a sailboat and they were all lounging around on the port side deck. I got everyone’s attention and then explained to them that when Judy yelled, “Tacking” they all had to move to the other side of the boat.
“Through here” I said, motioning under the boom. There didn’t seem to be any questioning looks so I nodded to Judy.
“Ready About?” she shouted.
“Ready,” answered Kelly and I, manning the winches.
“Tacking!” and she turned the boat.
That’s when it got real for the 10 passengers. Suddenly they realized that the sails were flapping, the winches were spinning, the boat was turning, and the side deck they were on was tipping way over towards the ocean. Like the flock of startled pigeons, they shrieked and flew through under the boom to the other side, laughing, scrambling, and giggling the whole way.
“Well done,” I said, “now next time who wants to help work the boat instead of just being along for the ride.” A few doubtful glances to each other than about 4 hands went up. And we started training.
I don’t know where the idea came from that we should take Norma and the women who run our gym out sailing on Wings but it just occurred to me one day and I mentioned it to Judy.
“That would be fun” she said so the next day I presented Norma with an invitation for a day on the water. I said it was for the whole crowd; Norma, her co-workers, her sisters, and their families, all of whom we know from seeing them at the gym three days a week. Norma quickly accepted but I have to say I don’t think she knew what she was getting into. It would be their first time on a sailboat.
That is how it came to be a week later that 10 gorgeous and excited women trouped down the dock and climbed aboard Wings for what they expected would a fun day lounging around on Wings’ decks in the sunshine with cold beverages in their hands and munching snacks and plates of ceviche (which they brought). Little did they know.
But Wings is not really a pleasure cruiser and anyhow, Judy and I had in mind a different type of sail, the kind we typically do when we have a boat full of guests: full sails, lots of tacking, spinnaker flying, and plenty of action. We brought Kelly and Deborah to help out.
After that first tack our new crew started to pay more attention. Kelly and I assigned jobs, Deborah translated, and we got everyone into their positions and we had some fun. Up the Punta Mita shoreline we tacked and then we turned down wind. Kelly said, “We need to put up the spinnaker!”
“OK, I’m game,” and up it went and down came the jib with some new forward hands pulling it in.
I showed Ana how to trim the spinnaker and I put myself on the winch to grind it. She soon got into the swing of things, letting it out until it folded and then yelling, “Frederico!” at me to grind. Boy, they all thought that was hilarious too.
We even jibed the spinnaker and that went smoothly too. Norma was interested in everything and did everything as you would expect of a woman who drives a Jeep, rides a Harley, drinks whiskey, and owns a gym. Ana, too, was everywhere. Alize and Adela pitched in, Ariadna and Carolina steered. I think I’ll keep this bunch. We handed out beverages. Well, some of the teenagers, I guess like a lot of teenagers, got bored. Never mind, we all had fun.
Two people: Fred & Judy , drawn to each other and yet somehow drawn also to the sea, and both intrigued by the idea of living aboard.
I saw her, blond and asymmetrical, beautiful, boarding another’s boat and I followed her and wooed her, or she wooed me. That was 1985 and we fell in love and we thought that to buy a boat and make a life together on the water was only natural.
So we did.
Fate.
The boat was WINGS.
For the next ten years we lived on Wings in Seattle, had jobs in the city, sailed every chance we got, and 40-50 times a year, went racing. It was great.
Then we left Seattle and began our cruising life. We voyaged across the world, across the seven seas, to faraway places, and made them our own.
Wings was our home, and is still, and we lived wherever the sea met the land and people welcomed us, as they did everywhere.
For thirty years we’ve lived this life, and more to come, we hope.
Join us now, and sail the seas.
Fred Roswold & Judy Jensen, SV Wings, Caribbean
Saquoia, Josh, and Ashley
Sewing a big sail
Easy Sailing
Wings' Cockpit
Judy on Watch
Re-Entry
This beer won't pour
New Refer
Right and Wrong
Tucked in at Tenacatita
Ready for the BBQ
Anchored in La Manzanilla
Numbers we need to see
Boys everywhere by the sea
Friends in Barra
Ted & Brenda at the pool
Judy winches me up
New wind instrument
Wings in Barra
We Depart Tomorrow, With the Breeze
Pta Mita Fleet Play Mexican Train
Crossing Tacks
Making a Mop
Fred Sailing
Sailing fast to Punta Mita
Sailing Strategy
Temporary Faucet
Wings Sailing
Wings Sailing on Banderas Bay
Judy
Wings Sailing on Banderas Bay
Hamburgers on Wings
Going Sailing
Five on the foredeck.jpg)
