Michael Hanssmann
03/20/2010

Here is our first update. We left the dock at 12:30 pm this afternoon and had the sails up by 1:00pm. With a nice wind of 17 knots about 65 deg off of our bow we fairly rocketed out of Banderas Bay doing 9 to 9.5 knots (we had some current which helped!). Right know we are doing about 8.2 - 8.5 knots, with the wind at the same angle. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon. The sea is a bit lumpy, but not at all bad. We are sailing with a double reefed main, and full genoa.

It looks like this wind will hold about the same for tomorrow, and then start to shift around and probably die down a bit on Monday. This is a 'Norther' from the Sea of Cortez (feels cool), and is a good push to get us away from the shore.

Gloria's Stories

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Gloria
03/19/2010, La Cruz, Bandaras Bay

Okay so I lied! You can provision til the minute you leave the dock and I must admit Michael and I got a serious case of the last minute provisioning bug! As of tonight, among the most cherished items are two freshly roasted chickens, hot off the grill and fresh tamales baked locally! What an incredible time we've had over the past few weeks. After a wonderful trip home shared with friends and family, we have been busy this week with all the last minute details before we finally push off for the puddle jump, (also known as the coconut milk run) to the South Pacific. We made our last shop yesterday to pick up our fresh food, and have everything vacuum packed and stowed away. This morning we took Paikea Mist down to Nuevo Vallarta to check out of Mexico at the Capitania de Puerto. As I write this, we are waiting for the immigration officer to arrive to give us our final papers, and we will then have 48 hours to leave the country.
We feel sad to leave Mexico. Mexicans are people who: sing in the streets, ride in the back of pick up trucks, listen to traditional Mexican music often played quite loud (whether young or old), eat a lot of food on the streets, say hello to everyone they pass, ask if you need any help when you are doing anything that looks difficult, show you the way when you don't know where to go, wear sweatshirts and jeans when it is less than 30 degrees Celsius, do hard physical work without apparent complaint, and enjoy meeting cruisers like us and asking questions about our journey. Earlier I wrote about a friend that told us that it is impossible to be friends with Mexicans, that they only see gringos as lemons they can squeeze. After spending the last 5 months here, I stand corrected on this. Sure , Mexicans look for opportunities, just like any other human being on the planet. Maybe they are good at picking out the real lemons too! But mostly they are just plain nice, and I will miss their friendliness and laidback lifestyle. The landscape is as diverse as the people and from the little we've been able to poke around it seems that Mexico has a multitude of experiences to offer the traveler. From the rugged and barren mountains of the Baja, to the fertile plains near Los Mochis, to the lush jungle mountains near Puerto Vallarta, and the deep canyons of Copper Canyon we loved what we saw of this land. The anchorages and marinas felt safe, and although we locked our boat when we left it, we never felt the least bit threatened or had any mishaps in this regard. Our time in Mexico is now counted in hours, not days. We look ahead now to the South Pacific where we will make the 3000 mile non-stop passage in the trade winds, crossing the equator for the first time to make our land fall in the Marquesas! Ready, set GO!

Gloria's Stories

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Michael Hanssmann
03/17/2010

Testing Sailblogs Position update via remote e-mail. Sent from La Cruz Marina

Gloria's Stories

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Gloria
03/04/2010, La Cruz, Bandaras Bay

The Puddle Jump BUZZZZZ....the crew of Paikea Mist prepare for the pacific crossing!

Between you and me and 3000 miles of open blue water, there is only so much provisioning and planning a cruiser can do before making the jump across the Pacific Ocean to the islands of French Polynesia. We are tied up to the dock here in the Marina de Nayarit, at La Cruz Haunacaxtle , a beautiful new facility in Banderas Bay, Mexico. This place turns out to be ground zero for the 'pacific puddle jump' as it is known amongst cruisers. The cruiser nets and meetings are a buzz with endless tidbits of advice and information. Soon to be 'doners' hang on to these packets of wisdom like Tarzan's grasp on a vine as he swings through the jungle. If you really, really want to know, in advance, where the ATM's are across the South Pacific, just check the threads on the Pacific Puddle Jumpers yahoo website. This site is full of some vital and not so vital pieces of information. Last season we are told, one cruiser brought six packages of freeze dried bacon from the Costco in Puerto Vallarta, and used it all the way to New Zealand! This is now common knowledge amongst us 'puddle jumpers' here at La Cruz! So if you like and need bacon in order to cross, I guess you better check this stuff out! Unfortunately, if you followed each piece of advice, you would never leave the dock, and might still be provisioning when the hurricane season arrives. It's true, you really can buy anything your heart desires here in Mexico, it just might take you forever to find it. I think I'd rather go surfing in Suyulita, just up the way from here, and pick up some fresh tortillas and roasted chicken on the way back to the boat. One frequent and amusing conversation among cruisers is the topic of items for trading with islanders, particularly for their limited and thus coveted supply of fresh fruit and vegetables. This runs the gambit from bullets, cigarettes and booze to floating line and fishing hooks. I tend to think it might be wiser to bring floating line and fishing hooks, but I am also guessing that more and more islanders would be happy to be paid cash for something! I have to admit though; one person's bacon is another cruisers beer. For us, this particular calculation is critical, as we are planning to travel to some very tiny and remote islands, where beer is sold close to the same price as gold! So just how many cans of beer can we fit onboard Paikea Mist without sinking the water line?!
Jesting aside, coming out of Vancouver as member of Bluewater Crusing Association, the crew of Paikea Mist feel very well prepared for our first ocean crossing. We imagine that most of our fellow fleet members would feel the same, as we have had endless opportunities to discuss many of the critical points of cruising with other 'doners'. It's true that a small number of people do actually cast off the dock lines from the Pacific Northwest in a spontaneous fashion, and to those we wish fair seas and calm winds. With the notorious coast of Oregon in waiting, the prudent majority leaving our coast spend a considerable amount of time gleaning a wealth of information from the presentations and courses offered through BWA. Whereas my husband and I were able to attend a great session on storm management using actual grib files for mock passage planning, some cruisers here in La Cruz are only finding out now that the passage from Fiji or Tonga to New Zealand is a notoriously challenging one.
So Paikea Mist is soon to be ready for her first real ocean crossing! Michael and I plan to spend a couple of weeks in Vancouver just before we leave so that we can squeeze out one last hug from all of our family and friends. We hope to cast off from this coast somewhere close to the 20th of March and are estimating arrival in the Marquases (mas o menos) three weeks later. With any luck and with all the rigours, excitement and tediousness of passagemaking behind us, we will bask in the landfall of our first ocean crossing and climb to the top of that waterfall at Fatu Hiva!

Gloria's Stories

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Gloria
02/11/2010, Mexico's Gold Coast

Life's a beach, or is it a whale? Well we have seen whales every day since crossing from La Paz to Mazatlan and south to Zihautenajo. The most amazing viewing was a mother and her calf practicing breaching off our beam. There is something a little humbling about seeing an entire humpback whale throw itself clear out of the water a few hundred yards away. We've tried endlessly to capture this stuff on camera, but we will leave that to our good friend Norm to capture next year! We've decided it is best just to watch them without an eye to the camera.
Life is not all easy street here though, as some of you may think...you know one continuous holiday ....amazing surf, beachside palapas, margaritas and sunshine. Well that amazing surf is really very pretty to watch roll in, as long as it is not rolling on top of you in your dinghy as you try to launch it through the surf. Micheal and I have literally been laid flat a few times now, and just like watching the whales, we are humbled by the power of even small waves hitting the beach. Sometimes we get away from the beach scott free and at other times mother nature and her "olas grandes" thinks one more lesson is in order. The last lesson she sent our way had our dinghy shooting into the air like a rocket ship, with me hanging on like a cowpoke on a rodeo ride. (Thank god for all that experience with those mechanical broncos in the bars in my wild and crazy days!). Michael lost his footing, or shall we say his shoes, and left me to navigate through the surf to safety. A fellow cruiser in this anchorage suffered a dislocated shoulder when their dinghy flipped, so obviously this sport is not for the meek at heart. In Zihautenajo we made daily trips in through the surf in our kayaks to visit our brother Randy and soon to be sister in law Lesley. This was a whole new sport, both for us and the tourists on the beach. We provided ongoing entertainment for the guests staying at the beach side resort where Randy and Lesley were staying. They enjoyed the sport of lazily lounging in their beach chairs guessing as to what condition we would be in by the time we made it into the beach. It was tricky and it was all about timing the surf and grading the size of the wave and distances between. I think I won the award for most drama, with a roll over lateral somersault! Michaels first landing was also priceless; he made a perfect landing only to fall backwards as he stood up to completely swamp himself! Rarely did we manage a dry landing, but when we did, it seemed nobody was watching- go figure!
Those same olas which break at the beach provide a regular rock and roll for Paikea Mist out at anchorage, without any of the rocking and rolling, if you get my drift. I've decided that I really don't like it when my wine bottle doesn't stay upright at anchorage! Good bye peaceful Pacific Northwest anchorages! Hello to wide open and exposed bays where swells refract or even roll straight in to the bay. In Zihuatenjo we had several days of large swells anchored off of La Ropa beach in front of Randy and Lesley's place. We thought we had it figured out by the second day when we set a stern anchor so that our nose was kept into the swells. This worked like a charm, until we went out for a day trip to Isla Ixtapa with Randy and Lesley. We had such a fabulous time with these two love birds. The entire week was endlessly fun, and this day seemed to sum up our time with them. We saw whales, turtles, tuna, had a wonderful lunch in the beautiful bay off Isla Ixtapa, and later explored the beach and enjoyed cold beers at the palapa on the beach. When we came back we set the stern anchor behind Paikea Mist, in exactly the same manner as previously. Only this time Mother Nature thought she should teach us a lesson about the strength of tides at full moon. That's right - it seemed nothing we could do, short of diving down and burying the stern anchor ourselves would make that thing hold our boat when the tide changed. Hence we spent the last 3 nights in Z'town looking like we were having a 'hay day' on board. Oh yeah, she humbles us.
And as for those Mexican Margaritas- one is great, but TWO!! Sends me flying. Maybe the trick is to have 3...hmmmm....I think I know enough about gravity to leave that lesson alone.
Sunshine....well yes, we have had our fill of glorious sunny days, really since we left Vancouver in June. Yet Mexico has also experienced more mixed up weather this winter than they have experienced in the past 20 years. Usual rain fall for this period is well, there is none. In other words, we probably spray more water having a shower off the back of our boat than is usually experienced months at a time down the whole coast at this time of the year. Last week saw us sailing north from Zihaurtenajo to Manzanillo where we plan to pick up Nick at the end of this week. The weather forecast was benign, but the stormy thunderclouds around us on the second day out belied this forecast, and suggested that an offshore low was perhaps making itself felt. We were anchored in Bahia Maruato, and were completely exposed to the increasing swell which was developing with the storm. Ultimately, we decided we would ride it out on the ocean rather than at anchor. Our theory was if we weren't going to sleep anyways, we may as well be making progress northwards to a more protected bay. As we weighed anchor a distinct thick bolt of fork lightning jutted to the ocean surface north of us. Hello...is anyone home up there- do you care?!!! In light winds we motor sailed through the night, surrounded by lightning and thunder, in all four quadrants. Although the regularity with which the lightning was striking was spectacular, (likely within 5 miles) this was not the reality check Mother Nature had in mind for us. Instead, along with the thunder and lightning the skies literally opened to pour 7 inches of rain in less than 12 hours upon us. What does that look like? Well, let me try some descriptives. Picture two inches of water continuously flooding across the deck. Water tanks full in the first 20 minutes. Think of our entire cockpit enclosure raining right through the canvas. Look at the ocean in the dark of the night and see only white fuzz where the water droplets are completely flattening the surface of the ocean waves. Open the enclosure and cut the water like a knife, rain droplets burning your forearm as you reach for a line. And the sound- remember grade 7 band? Only all night long. These rain squalls were several miles across and were evident as large masses on our radar. When we arrived into our anchorage at Bahia Tenacatita, we were grateful to see a calm anchorage with several dozen boats tucked safely out of the swell. Wow, this is Mexican anchoring paradise! When we arrived we crashed, we were tired, it was a long wet night. It wasn't until the next day that we heard more about what others had endured during the same storm. In Puerta Vallarta, just up the coast, winds howled through Bahia Banderas at 65nm/hour setting solar panels flying through the marina and anchorages. Some say they saw one gust that hit 100. Here in Tenacatita one boat suffered damage from lightning, as well as another boat which took a direct hit further north in Chamela. As I write this blog the anchorage is nervous again, as a huge low is blasting once again toward the Mexican coast. With any luck it will dissipate before it reaches the shoreline, but experience has taught us to be prepared for yet another lesson.

Gloria's Stories

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Gloria
01/18/2010, Isla Isabela

I put down the book I am reading, sitting up on the foredeck of Paikea Mist. Just below the bottom edge of our big Code Zero sail, I can see the outline of the Mexican coastline go by. The coast south of Mazatlan becomes progressively mountainous and it is mesmerizing to watch the surf crash against the beach as we sail by. From our distance, about 1 mile off shore, we can't hear the crash, but the white plumes are everywhere. I recognize that I am sitting in such an incredibly peaceful moment, with nothing on my "to do list", other than to sit and be part of everything around me. As my eye follows the coastline I see the unmistakable mist of a humpback whale surfacing. I keep this information to myself and just sit back and enjoy watching the whale surface, dive and the resurface as it approaches Paikea Mist. Instead of running for a camera, I relax and watch and feel the ocean and its heartbeat around me. Incredibly, just last night we were anchored in the small bay at the end of Isla Isabela, where the surf crashed with an alarming boom on the nearby rocky outcropping. The high cliffs and trees upon them were home to thousands of seabirds that swirled an endless dance around us. Isla Isabela, a tiny island and world heritage site, is what cruising dreams are made of, the absolute champagne of cruising! Here on this isolated island birds completely dominate the texture and the context of every aspect of the sea, land and sky. Sounds, sights and smells, all speak only of one thing, a truly magnificent seabird sanctuary.
When we first brought our dinghy up to shore at the small fishing camp at the head of the bay, we were particularly excited at the possibility of seeing the Blue footed Booby. There are only a few other places in the world where you might expect to see this rare and unusual bird, and the jury was still out whether we would actually set our eyes upon a real live Blue footed Booby. Michael joked that that was easy, as long as I was wearing something blue on my feet. Ha Ha. Well it turns out that you needn't look far for any bird on the amazing island of Isla Isabela. To not see a seabird of some description in a 5 foot radius begins to be surprising. To be on this island amongst the frigates, boobies, terns and gulls is to readily witness life in its complete circle, from its conception to its end. On the trails which crisscross the island the giant scissor tailed seabirds, known as the Magnificent Frigate, can be seen resting everywhere in the stubby tree tops. There are literally thousands of frigates on this island. On the cliff side overlooking our anchorage the trail leads past several nesting areas where young frigate chicks were still huddled in the nest, under the watchful protection of their parents. The male frigate has an astonishing ability to blow up his red throat, much like a large balloon, when he is mating. Across the island these red throats looked like red plastic bags dotting the landscape. Taking photos of these birds was such a delight: no need for long distance zoom, they were completely tolerant of your approach, allowing you to come within feet and sometimes unknowingly within inches of them without so much as a feather flickered.
What a funny bird, the somewhat more nervous and elusive blue footed booby, waddling around on its bright blue feet, with its stock bill and bright yellow eyes which pierce directly into yours! Yet, when this bird takes flight, what a beautiful sight that is. In flight his awkward features become completely solid with a strong neck, and an impressive wingspan. Surprisingly we saw various boobies attacked mid air by the pesky frigates who seemed to make it their sport to catch their tail or wing in midair. To our delight across the island the boobies were in full view across their life spectrum as well: nesting upon their eggs, some with very young chicks in their nests, and still others in a mating dance. Yet, life is a cycle, and perhaps because of the abundance on this island, it did not seem a shame to see the remains of a dead bird lying in the trail or nearby scrub. Indeed, we watched as a tired old frigate could not summon the energy to lift from the ground to take flight. Younger stronger birds were everywhere to replace this tired old fellow. Many times they flew incredibly close to us, such that we could hear the wind through their feathers. We sat for a long time on the top of the cliff on the white covered rocks as these birds swooped gracefully around us. Yes, to be on this island felt so incredibly primitive, basic, and even spiritual.
My thoughts come full circle back to the Mexican coastline and then out to the open Pacific. As I look outwards to the west, my mind settles in on the vastness of that space and wonder what moments stopped in time a crossing such as this will hold for us.

Gloria's Stories

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