We’ve been in preparation mode the past couple of days. There’s always a list of things to get done before any passage, even a simple two night crossing. Laundry is always high on our list. Groceries are a must. And we can never leave anywhere without adding a bit to the diesel tanks.

And speaking of diesel, it struck me today how many big sailboats there are here with tons of jerry jugs out on deck. I’ve never really understood this with monohulls. It’s not as if the weight of fuel is much of an issue, so I don’t get why they don’t have enough tankage. Our boat came standard with a 250 gallon capacity. It’s not actually that much now since a previous owner took out one bad tank and replaced it with a plastic jobbie much smaller. But still we only carry five extra gallons tucked away in a locker in case of emergency.

So why are there forty-nine footers on the dock here with ten jerry jugs strapped to their lifelines? Ali and I have always hated cluttered decks, and this monohull living is severely testing us. We’ve got three fenders and a kid’s car on deck and even that is too much for us. I can’t imagine carrying ten jerry jugs, it would drive us nuts.

We hired a diver to scrape the bottom before we head back out to sea. Eager to take advantage of every tenth of a knot we can get from a smooth bottom. Now this boat hasn’t been painted in at least twelve years, well fourteen now. That we know for sure. It may be longer. Granted, those twelve were in fresh water and there didn’t seem to be any wear, but still, this bottom paint has to be suffering pretty severely doesn’t it?

So it was a little surprising when the diver came out today and told me that the paint looked pretty good. Two or three years left he said. Huh? If I couldn’t see the spotless rudder and prop from the dock I would have thought he was under water smoking dope through his air hose. I mean I’ve been scraping on and off and every time there is an insane amount of growth. So despite this pleasant news we plan to haul out this summer and slap some new paint on this old boat.

Bumming around La Paz the past few days we haven’t been all that impressed with the restaurant fare. The street carts continue to be the shining light. Restaurants not so much. For a town bent on fishing charters there sure is a lack of decent fish tacos in a sit down establishment.

Lowe is walking. He does it without any encouragement from us now. He’s still not making it much further than about four or five steps, but they are confident steps now. I’m stoked about this development. Officially out of infant stage is how I think of it. And as much as I love me a good infant, I really love me a good toddler.