Dia de los Muertos

The week or so we spent in Santa Rosalia was primarily at a marina. We chose the marina in great part to make it easy for our children to play with the other kids here, but the side benefit for me was routine early morning walks. Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead, comes just after Halloween.

A combination of Aztec traditions with the All Saint's Day traditions brought by the Spanish, this is a day when Mexicans remember and celebrate their family and loved ones who have died. Marigolds were sold in town to decorate gravestones. Families trucked up to the cemetery on the mesa to gather around family plots- cleaning, decorating, eating, telling stories. I couldn't bring myself to go on the actual "dia", it felt intrusive, but loved the view into changes at the cemetery through these early morning walks.

Halloween, cruising kid style

We make a point of keeping celebrations and holiday traditions as familiar as possible. I'm sure this will get interesting next spring, since we expect to have at least one child's birthday in the middle of our Pacific crossing. There are many things to learn and enjoy from being in new places, and we certainly benefit in that respect- but there is also important comfort in the of repetition of traditions in the children's lives. And in the case of Halloween, they would probably say there is importance in collecting and eating candy, too!

Halloween this year helped me appreciate a few aspects of our nomadic life. First, we didn't have to spend several months having it marketed to us- we are able to enjoy holiday when occurred, with an abbreviated run up of about a week or so as the children considered costumes and trick or treating. I'm pretty sure that back in the US, the marketing of Christmas specific decor and gifts has already eclipsed all signs of fall. Halloween gear was on the shelves of stores before we even left the country, back in August. AUGUST, people! That's crazy.

Second, we have the time to indulge deeply in enjoying it in context. We spent most of the two or three days before creating costumes. Making costumes was something I always wanted to do, but could never fit into our busy land lives. Well, there isn't nearly as much competition for my time now! The children drew pictures of what they wanted. I tracked down a fabric store in Santa Rosalia, and found scraps to make costumes. I cut, and they sewed, taped, and painted. Siobhan's mermaid tail was acquired in La Paz last spring, but the rest came from our hands...and I have to say, I think they look pretty fabulous. They sure thought so, and that counts more than anything to me!

The unexpected delight was how prepared the neighboring cruisers were for our little trick-or-treaters. The plan was to visit the half dozen or so boats at the Singlar Marina where we're tied up. I visited boats on the dock about an hour before we planned to send out the kids- our three, Jack from Just A Minute, and Skylar and Steven from Ocean Blue. I brought a bag of candy along, so I could have a few handfuls with any boat that didn't have candy on hand. Being prepared for trick or treaters was not something I wanted to assume, and Mama Bear didn't want her kids disappointed (or her cruising friends having to turn down a bunch of cute children!). There was no need to worry- EVERY boat was ready! There were familiar candies (to anyone who has sampled the, um, unique Mexican candies like hot and salted tamarind pulp... or salted chili watermelon popsicles...this cannot be undervalued), and one boat even had fresh baked cookies.

It's a wonderful tribe out here.

Getting to the source

I remember when we made the deliberate choice to connect food we ate with the animal source it came from. Niall was three years old, and we were having rabbit for dinner. It would have been easy enough to tell him it was lapin or hasenpfeffer and pushed off the connection between our meal and the cute fluffy animal, but after a sharing a glance with Jamie we opted for frank honesty. Niall processed the information, then pronounced it delicious. I guess we shouldn't have worried!

In later years, we visited our friend Bruce of Lopez Island Farm, meeting the pigs and cows grazing before they became the pork and lamb on our dinner table. It drew the connection, but there was still a significant separation. We were watching happy animals in a charming location, doing whatever felt right. In the interest of giving our children a sense of respect for where their food comes from: a real creature, not a chilled, shrink-wrapped slab of something on polystyrene. It was closer yet, but still removed from the connection of an animal giving life for food.

Then we went cruising.

Suddenly, we're connected to our food in a whole new way. Foraging, before cruising, meant my seasonal forays to find nettles or mushrooms, blackberries or sea asparagus. Seeking them out as much for the soul as for the dinner plate. Now, fishing is a very real means of supplying protein in our diet. During the heat of late summer and early fall in Mexico, our options for keeping fresh stores of food on board have been limited by our refrigeration and remote location. The refrigeration was not reliable for storing many perishables, as it was overburdened in the heat- an issue hopefully resolved by today's wind generator installation. Our location was simply not near any meaningful population centers where we could reasonably acquire fresh food.

I have never understood the excitement people find in hunting and killing animals for sport, but it's impossible to deny that we have enjoyed fishing. We read in Steinbeck about the incredible bounty here during his journey in 1940. Although it has paled since then, the Sea of Cortez can still make anyone with a minimum of fishing gear feel like a pro. On one short dinghy ride a couple of weeks ago, every member of the Totem crew caught at least one fish in less than half an hour... and we were sharing one pole! Just this morning, I watched fishermen with hand lines on a pier bringing in everything from triggerfish to dorado (mahi mahi). We have been catching these, as well as sand bass, sierra, and barracuda.

Typically, our catch ends up in the next meal. It is hard to describe how delicious sushi is when the fish is just hours from the water. Fish tacos are another favorite on board. We stop fishing when we have enough to meet our near term needs, but love to keep enough to make jerky for a tasty, protein rich snack.

I'd love to be able to bring our vegetarian foraging back, but the Sonora desert doesn't have much to offer. There are a remarkable number of edibles (I recommend Gathering the Desert to anyone interested in learning more) but finding them is not practical.

That's fine. I'm ready for another plate of the Baja classic, fish tacos.

At peace in placid waters

Sunrise at La Gringa
Originally uploaded by behang

We are happy to have been spared any action from hurricane Rick. The system sped up, then turned east and broke up much sooner than anyone expected. Mazatlan was still hit squarely, but at least by then it had been reduced to tropical storm force. Nothing to sniff at, but no longer the ugly hurricane Rick had become early on.

It was a quiet few days, as we waited and watched the weather from the hurricane hole where we took Totem. But now, instead of remembering being hunkered down in a stripped out boat watching the weather instruments and radar, we have been enjoying placid water and clear skies like these. I am incredibly grateful!

Will there be another storm like Rick near us this year? It's pretty unlikely. The hurricane season ends at different times depending on who you ask. Most insurance companies peg it at the end of October. Some people would say mid-November, others would put it at the end of the month to be outside any historical activity. We are staying above latitude 27N, a generally accepted safe line, until November. But dates and "safe zones" are really meaningless in the face of unpredictable natural forces. In the unusual event that another system does form and head this way, we will be in a good position to run for safe harbor again.

We've been surprised by the number of boats that headed south weeks before the earliest estimate for the end of hurricane season. I estimate that between the beginning of October and the emergence of Rick, about half the boats that were in the northern Sea had gone south. The departures from the safer area in northern part of the Sea of Cortez seemed to come in clumps. It is impossible not to associate a bit of unhealthy group "thinking" with this... what you might call a herd mentality. Some kind of safety in numbers, maybe? Or willingness to make a plainly risky choice, because another boat is doing it too? Some boats were driven by commitments to be in a certain place at a certain time. That sounds pretty suspect, too.

Even outside the spectre of a hurricane, there's no doubt we make conservative choices. When it comes to picking anchorages choosing passage timing, it's our first priority to be safe. Jamie likes to say "I don't need to prove I'm a man by picking an exposed anchorage when there's a forecast for 40 knots." Perhaps as a downside, there have been some passages we've motored more than we like because the winds were too light for sailing. If that's a tradeoff, I'll take it!

Hurricane Rick

It's ironic that our last post was about being flexible, and rolling with the plans that the weather gods send us, because here we are in Puerto Don Juan once again. This time, it's not just inclement conditions but a bona fide hurricane sending us once again to the protection of what is popularly considered the best hurricane hole in the northern Sea of Cortez.

These last few days, hurricane Rick was for some time among the worst hurricanes in Pacific Mexico's history. It rapidly cranked from being a named storm to a category 5 hurricane. We feel for the communities in Mexico who are just recovering from last month's hurricane Jimena, and facing the prospect of being battered again by severe weather.

Historically, hurricanes in in Pacific Mexico which make it our way lose most of their energy in southern Baja, and so the northern Sea of Cortez where we are has typically been spared. That's exactly why Totem, and a couple of dozen other boats, have been spending the hurricane season up here above 27 deg N. Like many others, we believe the best way to avoid a hurricane is to stay well outside historical tracks! It's why we're still in the northern Sea, and happy to be able to tuck into a good spot with almost a dozen other boats. It's really surprising how many boats had already started south, but that's fodder for another post. We don't have Internet access right now so it's impossible to include a photo with this post, but the picture in the prior post shows a pretty good view of the near 360 protection in this bay.

Things have changed quickly. When Rick was designated a hurricane a few days ago, it was projected to make landfall on the Pacific side of Baja around Thursday. Now, the eye is not even hitting the peninsula, and is expected instead to cross below the southern tip of Baja on Tuesday. At this writing, it has gone from beyond ugly (category 5) and moving fast (about 12 knots) to category 4, half the speed, and indications of beginning to break up. Trust me, there is a collective sigh of relief with the co-captains on Totem!

The various projection models currently seem to be in agreement on the track's path and rapid dissolution over the mainland, which gives us additional peace of mind. On the other hand, nobody can perfectly predict the weather. We'll stay put in this safe location until it's clear how Rick will spin out.

If you're interested in seeing the forecast cones and models, we think http://www.eebmike.com has a good collection of data and pictures. For Totem's current location, check our last SPOT signal at http://tinyurl.com/svtotem.

It's all about being flexible

Our lives before we left to go cruising were very structured. Each day of the week had a de facto plan. Usually, it involved an alarm going off at an ungodly early hour, followed by marching through the steps toward school (kids) and offices (me and Jamie). How we spent our non-working days was often mapped out well in advance, to take make best use of their relative scarcity.

Embracing less structure is harder than it sounds. Cruising is not a vacation, although to our friends on shore, it may appear that way on the surface. It's not all surfing the Pacific breaks or landing mahi mahi, or sipping umbrella-topped drinks before an azure bay. Far from it! Our days are very full. We have key boat maintenance that must be performed at regular intervals, and have our children's voracious appetites for learning to keep up with. In addition to routine boat maintenance, there seems to be an endless list of bigger projects for us to tackle. Then there are the fundamentals of life: preparing meals, doing laundry, getting provisions - all of which generally require quite a bit more time and effort on the boat-as-homestead than they did back on the grid. At the same time, we often don't have our plans from one day to the next specifically mapped out. Adapting to this kind of flexible "what shall we do today?" schedule has taken time for this formerly super structured family.

The primary schedule on Totem is the broad-stroke path of our itinerary. We deliberately do not plan too far ahead, but there are seasonal weather patterns which make many of the decisions for us. They determine the general region we are in, or heading for, at any given time of year. At a more discrete and daily level, weather patterns and forecasts often take charge of the schedule and determine our location.

We've recently had excellent lessons in the importance of this day-to-day flexibility. We crossed from the east side to the west side of the Sea of Cortez about a week and a half ago, and have been based near the town of Bahia de los Angeles. Our location has bounced between a few different spots. Overwhelmingly, we've ended up in Puerto Don Juan. Let me just say it's a good thing we really like Puerto Don Juan, because we haven't had a lot of options. The reality of the weather has made the decision for us. Puerto Don Juan has such near 360 protection from waves that it's considered among the best hurricane holes in the northern Sea of Cortez. With projections this past week for near gale force winds from a variety of directions (depending upon the forecaster), it's been a logical place to stay put- whether we want to or not!

With more time than we expected, we've explored farther than we might have otherwise. We've been hanging out with our friends on s/v Don Quixote, sharing kid oversight and outings. With 6 kids between the 3 parents (DQ's dad is up in the states for a work stint), it's like a floating village! We've followed a highway of coyote tracks through the big wash that drains the surrounding mountains. Walking through middens adjacent to the anchorage, the children could see fire-cracked stones, find cutting tools, and even spot a couple of spear tips. We've fished off the mouth of the bay, and enjoyed the bounty of the rich sea around us. We've found stone meditation circles on the top of the ridge above the anchorage, and marveled at the view from the highest point... a view of the whitecaps of the churned up sea keeping us fixed in the bay.

Trapped... hardly! It may not have been our choice, and we can't wait to get to the islands nearby- but flexibility is giving us some great rewards right now.

It is GOOD to be back

It is GOOD to be back
Originally uploaded by behang

It is so good to be back at home on board Totem!

Jamie and I stopped in Hermosillo to grab a quick bite on our dash back to Phoenix in a rental car to pick up the children and our things at my Aunt Glenna's home. These steamed tacos were amazing- in fact- the photographer *cough* seems to be so taken with them, she cut off Jamie's head in the picture. Oops...

We've been stuck n San Carlos a little longer than expected. I guess we can blame hurricane Jimena for that, although really, we were left unscathed. But not so the utilities at the San Carlos Marina Seca (dry storage). Our friend Ethan on Eyoni has offered to be the mule to bring down our wind generator, and we ain't leavin without it.

Making limonada out of limones, though: with unlimited power and flat water in the Marina Real, Jamie has been hard at work on a pile of boat projects. This partial list gives an idea:

- realigned the engine
- installed a new flexible shaft coupling
- moved our big heavy water heater tank to a new position
- reinforced the engine "room" as part of water heater movement
- opened up access to storage under the forward cabin
- replaced a dead compass in our autopilot (hello, warranty? AAAARRGH, this was our bane last year. hand steering gets old)
- installed new cabling to help our instruments talk to each other (a translation NMEA 2000 to NMEA 0183 device, so the GPS and autopilot can shake hands)

This of course is all on top of the major cleanup and re-commissioning to get Totem back into liveable shape again. I would mention the weevils, but I'm still a little broken up over all the sushi rice I had to throw away, and I don't think I can talk about it yet.

The children are doing incredibly well. Towards the end of our stay in the states, it was clear they needed the stability of a family routine. We had an amazing summer, but they shuffled through a lot of different beds and spent a lot of days stuffed 3-across in the back of our rental sedan.

Here, the imaginary play is back in high gear with the girls. Niall sometimes joins in, but he's been too busy making stop-action lego movies. We've having family reading time in the afternoon that is a nice break for everyone, and perfect for beating the heat. Personally, I'd vote for a siesta, but they can't stop moving that long yet!

We haven't found any luscious steamed tacos nearby. A downside of the Marina Real is that you are far from stores or services. The cruisers who spend the summer here all seem to have cars. On the other hand, fishermen stop by with shrimp on a regular basis, and we're re-stocked on our favorite piquante sauce.

Life is so, so good!