Just getting ready for this adventure, has been an adventure in itself.
Imagine, shopping for your family of four...for the next eight months...
and doing it in a foreign country, in another language, where you don't have a car and you are traveling on buses and taxis or by foot, or on a rented bicycle.
Then, loading it all into a dingy, schlepping it out to your boat, through chop and current, and stuffing it all in a stowage space that's about the size of a school locker.
But this is the deal.
It's the price you pay, for getting to duff-off and cruise the South Pacific, living out your fantasies, like a a character from a romantic, swashbuckling novel.
Like all really, big, adventures-packing is part of the fun.
It gets you in the mood, gets your synapsis firing.
You know, it's coming soon and once it's on...it's on.
There's no turning back.
So you get on your game face, pull up those big-girl panties and make some lists, damnitt!
Restocking will be out of the question until Tahiti ( 3 months away) anyway, and even then, it's supposed to be insanely expensive.
Where we hope to go, there won't be any running out and getting that little thing you need from the grocery store, pharmacy, CVS, gas station, marine supply, home-depot....
There are no doctors or clinics, no engine repair guys, electricians, plumbers, babysitters, teachers, no internet, WIFI, Google, no people to ask for directions, no take-out, no garbage man, recycling depot, library, psychiatrist, spa, Nordstroms, Target, or Mac store...
Every day, Jon and I make our respective lists and dash around town-usually we split the kids up, too.
Kai goes with whoever needs the most help carrying heavy stuff...
and Hunter goes with whoever needs to talk a nice Mexican official/fiberglass expert/marine supply clerk/ or anybody we need to do something we can't...into doing it faster and for less money then he usually does it for.
Each day you check things off your lists:
sometimes, they are cryptic;
'Find the guy, who can find the guy, who knows where I can get this piece, of that thing welded, to this other thing..."
(this would be how I write it down-not Jon-he uses actual nouns when he talks about our boat parts).
Some lists, are intense and even attempting to procure them, will fill you with dread;
"Get the kids their Hep boosters and while you're there, get the doctor to give us two vials of that injectable adrenaline stuff, in the (unlikely) event that someone gets stung by something so poisonous, that their heart stops..."
Others fill you with joyful possibility;
2 new bikinis
35 bottles of sunscreen.
There are the 60 trips (in a taxi or on the public buses) back and forth to the markets and marine stores and then collapsing, into bed, after a 16 hour day and lying awake all night remembering the hundred things you almost forgot,
like...Eggs.
Meanwhile, as fast as Jon could stock up on spare parts, things on Pura Vida would break down- but she is a boat after, all.
this is also, just how it goes.
This week, it was the raw water pump-replaced with our spare-leaving us...with no spare.
and the fresh water hose to the engine...
and the bad-boy antenna...
and the foot pump on the fresh water tanks...
Then Jon climbed up and down the fifty foot mast, about thirty times, fiddling with our ancient anchor light and soldering up a new lower-amp bulb.
Once we had jammed as much into our holds as we could, we took off to the islands, to meet up with Manta one last time before leaving the Sea of Cortes.
Terry and Dawn were there when Hunter made her first open water dive, and as proud as we all were of her, I think Kai was the most proud of all.
I wish I had a camera that day, to catch the shot of Hunter turning to Kai twenty feet down, with a big grin on her face.
Kai reached out his hand and took hers and together they swam off after a parrot fish...
Jon and I and Terry and Dawn trailed behind them with big grins on our faces.
We celebrated an early birthday for Kai, Dawn baked a cake. They gave Kai the biggest knife any 11 year old ever got.
I keep hiding it. He keeps finding it- and sticking it back in its sheath and wearing it on his belt.
The thing is so huge, it keeps pulling down his pants.
There were lots of laughs.
Terry and Dawn gave us a million spare parts and tips and advice but sadly, the day came where we had to say "See you soon!" to our dear friends...
We were on our way.
As I write this we are, indeed, on our way...
to Los Frailles.
The same bay, where I wrote "Oysters A La Hombres" a year ago. Imagine, how different that whole scenario would be to me now. For one thing, I know more than six words of Spanish and I could probably teach those fellows a thing or two about finding sea food here in the Sea of Cortes.
I realize, now, just how little we knew about what we were getting in to, when we took off to come down here...
What the hell were we thinking?
Probably, the same exact same thing we're thinking right now.
" Let's go, already!".
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| What a bad idea! |
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| Buds 4-ever |
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| My soul sister |
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| Captain ponytail |
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| Isla San fransisco |
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| Princess |
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| Yogatime! |
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| See you soon, buddies! |
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| A swanky neighbor at the fuel dock. She's called Venus and I guess she was Steve Job's boat. I bet he's relieved he doesn't have to polish all that stainless anymore! |
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| racing around La Paz |
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| The lovely Jasmine and Shannon-who sold their boat AND got a new one the trade! |
Venus was UGLY! You are beautiful!
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