Man, I like that little town of Chacala, but I will never visit that anchorage again. We took off early this morning, with bags under our eyes, and cruised up the coast twenty miles to San Blas where we have enjoyed some pretty terrible nights in the past as well.
We were motoring with the mainsail up to keep us from teetering too badly in the big swell. No wind all morning, but then it kicked in a bit and before we knew it we were heeled over pretty good and galloping along. And here is another reason cats win over monos—heeling is scary. Ali had been below playing with Ouest when the wind filled in, but I wasn’t too surprised when her head popped up and she asked, “How strong do you think the wind is?”
“I’d say 15 knots I suppose.”
Marge Simpson-esque, “Mmmmmm, I don’t like this.”
A couple minutes later she popped up again. “Are we safe? This isn’t safe.”
It was safe, but even now we are still used to sailing along on a level plane. On a cat you don’t heel and therefore I don’t think you get the sense that you are moving as quickly as you really are. On a monohull you definitely know when your boat speed is increasing. You know because you start to inch your way up to the high side of the deck, and you even start to think that your 180 pounds might just help keep the boat level. (I seem to remember monohull sailors using the fact that you can’t feel how fast you are going on a catamaran as an argument in favor of monohulls. Yeah. Right.)
Hey, I’m not saying there is anything rational about the scariness of monohulls versus catamarans, but it is there nonetheless.
Anyway, somehow we survived the ferocious 15 knot beam reach and dropped the hook in the absolutely massive bay—the only boat in the place. It didn’t take us long to make our way to the beach where we were also the only people in sight—aside from a little old lady tending her restaurant in order to sell us beer.
Our safety on board (out on deck) is essentially equivalent to what a normal parent’s level of safety is when their kids are in the bathtub—never leave their side, never leave them alone. I think at a park they call those parents helicopter parents because they are always hovering over their children, but on deck on the boat it’s just the way it is. Right before this picture was taken of Lowe I was sitting next to him and turned my head to ask Ali if she could hand up the camera. As I turned my head back around to him I saw his feet going over his head. I reached over and snatched a handful of diaper and managed to catch him mid-air just like that—by his butt. This is the same spot that Ouest went over the side of the boat.
8 Comments on “Super Storm (15 Knots)”
Getting the kids into a routine of getting used to a PFD makes it easier on you to land that helicopter. Plus then when they are a little older they can have independence without you having the grey hairs when they are out of sight. Our son started wandering on deck and on the marina docks solo at age 4. PFD was and still is his uniform even though he was always a strong swimmer. You know what I’d tell him when he was younger and would crow about being a big boy and not needing his “floatie” because he can swim? I say nobody is a good swimmer if they bonk their head or twist their leg or arm on the way into the water. I have seen grown men almost drown because they try so hard to break their fall that they hurt themselves and can’t swim.
Anyhow, blahblahblah. Just a thought from 6-7 years up the kid road. You have good reflexes and good instincts, but soon enough they are going to need a little freedom and the PFD helps make that easier.
Pat, That picture of Lowe really makes me jealous. I remember my aunt letting my cousin run around naked and it was such a great feeling. I would have signed away my whole life’s earnings to keep that then. My mom put the kibosh on that though. Oh yes and the over the side thing, isn’t it amazing how fast litte kids are?
How do you do laundry on Bumfuzzle?
Good question. We’ve got a great system for doing laundry.
Step 1. Put clothes in large bucket.
Step 2. Transfer clothes to a bag.
Step 3. Carry bag to a laundromat.
Step 4. Pay 25 pesos a load.
Step 5. Go out and enjoy the day.
Step 6. Pick up washed, dried, and folded laundry four hours later. Carry back to boat.
And done. We’ve been working this system for nearly a decade. 🙂
After one experience doing our own laundry in a bucket I decided hiring it out was worth ANY price.
Do those little red pajamas have a picture of a dog? I think Lore has the same pair. Kids in Mexico and China have the same pajamas … the world is indeed flat.
They do indeed have a dog. In fact tonight I carried Lowe into his room where Ali had laid them out on the bed and the second he saw them he barked and did a happy dance. He loves those pajamas. Indeed the whole world probably has those pajamas since they only make kids pajamas one place on earth—China. 🙂 I’ve always wondered, are Chinese made goods super inexpensive in China too?
Doh! Ali pointed out that she did indeed do some laundry. Thus, the picture of the pajamas drying. We don’t do “laundry” per se, but when the kids run out of undies or pajamas Ali just throws them in a bucket of soap, squishes them together a few times, rinses them, and hangs them up. Nothing fancy. Their kids after all, they aren’t going to a formal dinner in those things. 🙂
To be fair Lisa, read the post about their clothing falling apart around the Arabian Sea. To be truly fair, I think that Pat and Ali still are ahead cost wise doing it their way.