Sunrise over Isla Tortuga en route on our windless crossing from Santa Rosalia to haul out in San Carlos last spring.
It has been a long time… since our post last April from Puerto Escondido on the eastern shores of the Baja Peninsula. We did indeed continue our journey from that point until we crossed the Gulf of California and hauled out the boat into the dry work and storage yard in San Carlos on the western coast of mainland Mexico.
Celebrating our crossing after anchoring in Bahia Algodondes, just a few miles northwest of San Carlos. (This is the area where the infamous movie “Catch 22” was filmed.)
Temperatures are quite elevated in that part of the country in May and June, and we were soon up to our necks in both projects and sweat. For two weeks we tackled a long list of tasks, dropping the minimum number of boat dollars expected of cruising sailors. We even took on the labyrinthine project of approving our defunct windlass for removal and obtaining clearance for importing a replacement without paying duties.
Windlass removed, after a day of fiddling and prying, Wade finally just drilled it out with multiple stabs of a 1/2-inch drill.
How sweet (and shiny!) it is! Our new windlass, installed! We did not know if it would work until the fall, when Wade installed the new battery cable we brought with us.
We spent a few days wandering all over the streets of Guaymas, a twenty-five minute bus ride away, seeking out parts and supplies both large and small. We vaccuumed and scrubbed and oiled all the interior wood and floors. We bought fabric and sewed a breathable shade cover for the exterior and a dust cover for the settee. We scraped and repaired and primed the bowsprit. We polished all the stainless. . .
Preparing brightwork for new varnish in Santa Rosalia, just prior to sailing across the Sea to San Carlos for haul-out. (Very sadly, this marina and several boats belonging to people we met were destroyed by Hurricane Odile this September).
And completed some more varnish touch-ups in San Carlos, too. Wade took the bus to Tucson to get the new windlass and discard the old one. A surprising amount of time was spent recuperating from working in the heat.
Finally, we took on the huge job of preparing Pelican Moon for a summer’s sleep in the storage yard. All the exterior lights were wrapped in foil. Thru-hulls greased and then closed, the cockpit drains stuffed with bronze wool to keep out the bugs, but left open so torrential rains wouldn’t fill the cockpit. All windows and hatches were dogged down and lined with foil to reflect the heat. We removed and rinsed all lines and sails and stowed them below, hoping we would remember what went where in the fall and that we would not lose our key of shorthand notes. We finished making and installing the blow-through shade cover, wrapped the mast and boom in soft foam to protect the paint from scrapes, and marked the hull so the trailer operators would place the jackstands exactly where we wanted. After sprinkling a few roach traps throughout the cabin, upending all the cushions, opening up all the lockers, sealing up all clothes and books and food against moisture and moths, we placed four 5-gallon buckets of water on the floor of the cabin, locked the door, laced the final opening in the cover, and walked away. . .
Pelican Moon in dry storage where she spent the summer.
So, you can imagine how curious/anxious we were on October 7, 2014, when we returned to San Carlos and went to find Pelican Moon in the storage yard. We were so relieved to find that she had weathered the summer very well, with no damage, mold or serious degradation anywhere, inside or out.
Bringing Pelican Moon out of storage and into the work yard.
And so began the entire process again, in reverse. Wade finished the windlass installation with new cables, and installed a new 12V outlet at the nav station. We sanded and painted the bottom of the hull, and again scrubbed and oiled the woodwork.
Blue Man Wade got the hull scraped and painted, twice, in only two days, in 90-degree heat. He amazed other boat owners in the yard, but not me. I am spoiled. And also very glad he didn’t pass out from the heat or copper poisoning.
We unpacked everything and put the boat back together. Then, on a tense morning after 13 days on the hard, we again followed Pelican Moon down the highway.
All shined up and ready for sailing!
The motor started without a hiccup and we did not even tie up at the dock to take a breath. Wade backed up the boat and turned us around in the tight space of the marina like the pro that he is, and soon we were securely anchored in the bay and gratefully napping in the cockpit, cold beers downed in celebration and a warm breeze wafting away most of the bugs.
Looking across the bay from our boat to one of the fancier neighborhoods in San Carlos.
The other, undeveloped side of the bay, seen from our boat. We love watching the pelicans hunt along the base of the rock, and every morning a family of three ospreys calls back and forth to each other across the water.
We still have a few more jobs to do out here in the bay before we take off for the winter. Foremost among them is replacing our four lead-acid batteries which we inadvertently cooked in the extreme heat while living on the hard last spring. When that is all done, we’ll probably set sail on a little expedition northward for a few days, testing all the systems, before we return to San Carlos for one last provisioning run. Then, it will be off to play among the islands and remote anchorages of central Baja before heading south toward La Paz, Mazatlan, and eventually Banderas Bay.
We hope some of you will come and join us! Thanks for being interested in our trip, and we love hearing from each and every one of you. (If you click on one of the photos below, it will expand to a larger size and you can click through the entire gallery one at a time, and also be able to read the captions in larger font…)
sailing pelican moon 