July 1, 2020-Coming Home

wingssail images-fredrick roswold
Hanging out at Punta de Mita

For eight days Wings lay at anchor in the lee of Punta de Mita, protected from the prevailing westerly winds and also from the shifts to WSW, which happened regularly, but not from true SW winds. Those blew right into the anchorage but they were rare. And anyhow, this was the best anchorage in the area for all of these winds. The best in a wide area. So they stayed.

The winds were one thing, the waves were another. The waves turned around the corner and into the bay where they lay. Tucked up against the point, for the shelter it afforded of course, Wings yet sat perilously close to the surf but the crew watched the waves in the evenings as they sat in the cockpit and savored their happy hour drinks and they didn’t even think of any possible danger from those waves.

But on the ninth day, in the late afternoon, the surf came up.

wingssail images-fredrick roswold
Waves Building at Pta Mita

On that afternoon they watched as the surf piled up angrily outside their bay. It was stormy, coming from somewhere far away, and jumbled as it grew white and turbulent and sent bigger swells into the bay.

They watched as the big waves came in and turned the corner. First the waves seemed to head directly toward them, then they swerved further, back toward the Punta Mita shore.
The mate was worried, “Those breakers look pretty close”.

The skipper said, “See that rock? The waves are breaking inside that rock. If they start breaking outside of that rock, towards us, then we should pay attention. Until then, we’re OK.”

They both watched the rock and the waves. The waves all broke inside of that rock. They relaxed.

By nightfall the waves were down and they went to their berths and rested easily.

For the next two days the surf stayed up and the waves came around the corner and spent themselves on the shore inside the rock. Some surfers found these waves and came out. See, it is just a playground.

There was no danger to the sailboat.

By day twelve it was time to leave. They were due back.

They raised the anchor and motored slowly into the wind to put up the mainsail. Suddenly they were at the rock. THAT ROCK. It was 12 feet deep, too shallow. The waves were breaking very close, truly close. The main was quickly topped and they turned away putting the wind and that rock to their backs and watched the depth sounder inch higher; 12, 14, 16, 20. A sigh of relief came from both.

Now a different challenge presented.

There was a boat. A boat also going back towards the city.

A boat with a spinnaker. A blue and white spinnaker: A challenge.

They set their own spinnaker, red white and blue.

The other boat had a mile head start, but they felt confident.

Only, they didn’t gain.

The other boat, with the blue and white spinnaker, kept working away to leeward. They thought, "We’re not gaining, we’re losing!"

Perhaps working the shore down there was advantageous. It was, after all, their preferred tactic on the race from here each winter. Today they had let that blue and white spinnaker own that lane. Foolish, over confident.

OK, “We must jibe.”

The jibe was rough, but in the end they pulled it off.

Now, converging on opposite jibes, they closed quickly with the boat with the blue and white spinnaker, but they could see that it was still going to be ahead.

The crossing was not even close.

wingssail images-fredrick roswold
Blue and White Spinnaker Crosses Us


Yet it wasn’t a mile, so they had gained.

Then the wind built. They were on the correct jibe. The other boat was on the wrong jibe for the new wind and then had some trouble and the spinnaker. It collapsed and stayed collapsed.
Now, with an advantage, they charged.

The other boat fell behind, then bore off again on the wrong jibe. Maybe they were going somewhere else.

Race over.

Only now they were quickly approaching the Port of La Cruz. They were on a beam reach and sailing fast and the anchorage zone was just ahead. The spinnaker had to come down. NOW.
The mate went forward and the skipper turned the boat down wind and released the halyard.

Only it was the wrong halyard.

The mate cried, “Let it down, Let me have it!”

Chaos for a moment then the correct halyard was released. The sail was dowsed.

They looked behind, at the boat with the blue and white spinnaker still wallowing back there, and they looked back towards Punta de Mita and its surf, long ago left behind and out of sight, and they felt good, they had vanquished two foes.

And with that, they closed off a successful cruise.

Click here for a few more photos.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, La Cruz Huancaxtle

Cruise Statistics:
Start Date: March 31, 2020
End Date: July 1, 2020
Anchorages: 8
Total Miles Sailed: 353nm
Farthest Distance reached from La Cruz: 61.5
miles