Reluctantly I drag myself from the toasty bunk to greet the early morning darkness. Coffee happily perks in the galley while the engine warms. I, on the other hand, am not as jolly as the bubbling bean juice. At this time of the morning it takes considerably longer for joy to overtake me. Joe is disgustingly perky as he prepares for day two of our south bound journey.
Our buddy boats, still dark, are barely visible through the blanket of wet fog that has tucked itself into the cove while we slept. Because our boat is heavier and somewhat slower we've opted to leave 2 hours earlier than "Tica". "Panache" is in no hurry and we may not see him again for days or weeks.
Once again free of our holding on the bottom, me at the helm and Joe below at the radar screen we guide our vessel carefully through the clutch of fishing pangas that dot the sheltered bay. Their tiny lights peek through the fog just as we near them, insufficient warning to negotiate around them. It's rumored that these trusting fishermen often sleep in their puny boats waiting for the fish to bite and we feel a crushing responsibility to pass by without harming them. Without the radar picking out their presence P.J. would now have a collection of Mexican fishermen adorning her bow. We strain our eyes to avoid colliding with them, our bowsprit pointing this way then that as we navigate around them in the dark and damp.
Not a breath of wind whispers as day breaks and we travel down the coastline. The waves have gentled some today and we're getting used to being at sea. Our feet have not touched land since we departed Stone Island nor will they 'til we reach Puerto Vallarta and complete the final strand of red tape. Officially, P.J. has not yet entered the country as a Canadian registered vessel. That final piece will be completed once we reach our destination and until then we'll not step on Mexican soil. It's a tangled but necessary step toward changing the country of registration.
To our left (to port) Mexico's rugged spine rises through the ubiquitous shoreline haze and appears to be as adrift as are we. The tops of the nearest peaks are clearly outlined against the sky then layer upon layer fading into the smoky distance. It's a mystical sight and one that many a camera lens has successfully captured.
Chugging through the windless day we're accompanied occasionally by small pods of dolphins. Sea turtles appear swimming lazily on the surface and off in the distance the spouting of three whales catches our attention. We scramble for the binoculars but catch only a glimpse. The water has taken on a more greenish blue cast and it is evident that we've moved into a more tropical climate. Shorts and T-shirts are all the clothing required. Up til today warmer clothing was almost always necessary when we were on the water.
Bugs are more of a problem down here and one must ensure that screens are in good repair to keep the little beggars on the outside of the boat. An abundance of palms nod their welcome as we near our destination of the day.
It's a little spooky as we come in closer to shore because the charts in this area can be as much as a mile off. When trying to avoid shoals and rocks as we approach our next anchorage the computer charts show us travelling on land.
Even though it's evident to the eye that we're definitely still on the water it's hard to trust the charts and you can't help but keep an ear tuned for the devastating crunch of the hull coming into contact with a hidden rocky outcrop and the subsequent rush of sea water filling the cabin. Fear of sinking our vessel causes us to chicken out and add an hour to our trip and go well around the hazardous area.
Right on schedule we arrive at Punta de Mita. This huge anchorage is at the northwestern corner of Banderas Bay which houses Puerto Vallarta and numerous snug anchorages. I would not describe Punta de Mita as a snug anchorge. Although it could accommodate hundreds of boats only a handful are actually resting here this evening. We drop the anchor a mile off the shore in the rolly bay and begin to cook a hot meal and await the arrival of our buds.
Just as we are about to sit down to supper in the cockpit "Tica" comes breezing by tooting a tin horn and shouting happily to announce their arrival as they circle "Pacific Jade" and anchor within calling distance. After our reunion we finish our wine in the cockpit while the sun sets, call goodnight to our friends across the water and retire below.
I've been having trouble loading the images at times. Soon you will have an image gallery to check out at our web site http://www.sailing-vacations-web.com/ Happy New Year everyone!
Our buddy boats, still dark, are barely visible through the blanket of wet fog that has tucked itself into the cove while we slept. Because our boat is heavier and somewhat slower we've opted to leave 2 hours earlier than "Tica". "Panache" is in no hurry and we may not see him again for days or weeks.
Once again free of our holding on the bottom, me at the helm and Joe below at the radar screen we guide our vessel carefully through the clutch of fishing pangas that dot the sheltered bay. Their tiny lights peek through the fog just as we near them, insufficient warning to negotiate around them. It's rumored that these trusting fishermen often sleep in their puny boats waiting for the fish to bite and we feel a crushing responsibility to pass by without harming them. Without the radar picking out their presence P.J. would now have a collection of Mexican fishermen adorning her bow. We strain our eyes to avoid colliding with them, our bowsprit pointing this way then that as we navigate around them in the dark and damp.
Not a breath of wind whispers as day breaks and we travel down the coastline. The waves have gentled some today and we're getting used to being at sea. Our feet have not touched land since we departed Stone Island nor will they 'til we reach Puerto Vallarta and complete the final strand of red tape. Officially, P.J. has not yet entered the country as a Canadian registered vessel. That final piece will be completed once we reach our destination and until then we'll not step on Mexican soil. It's a tangled but necessary step toward changing the country of registration.
To our left (to port) Mexico's rugged spine rises through the ubiquitous shoreline haze and appears to be as adrift as are we. The tops of the nearest peaks are clearly outlined against the sky then layer upon layer fading into the smoky distance. It's a mystical sight and one that many a camera lens has successfully captured.
Chugging through the windless day we're accompanied occasionally by small pods of dolphins. Sea turtles appear swimming lazily on the surface and off in the distance the spouting of three whales catches our attention. We scramble for the binoculars but catch only a glimpse. The water has taken on a more greenish blue cast and it is evident that we've moved into a more tropical climate. Shorts and T-shirts are all the clothing required. Up til today warmer clothing was almost always necessary when we were on the water.
Bugs are more of a problem down here and one must ensure that screens are in good repair to keep the little beggars on the outside of the boat. An abundance of palms nod their welcome as we near our destination of the day.
It's a little spooky as we come in closer to shore because the charts in this area can be as much as a mile off. When trying to avoid shoals and rocks as we approach our next anchorage the computer charts show us travelling on land.
Even though it's evident to the eye that we're definitely still on the water it's hard to trust the charts and you can't help but keep an ear tuned for the devastating crunch of the hull coming into contact with a hidden rocky outcrop and the subsequent rush of sea water filling the cabin. Fear of sinking our vessel causes us to chicken out and add an hour to our trip and go well around the hazardous area.
Right on schedule we arrive at Punta de Mita. This huge anchorage is at the northwestern corner of Banderas Bay which houses Puerto Vallarta and numerous snug anchorages. I would not describe Punta de Mita as a snug anchorge. Although it could accommodate hundreds of boats only a handful are actually resting here this evening. We drop the anchor a mile off the shore in the rolly bay and begin to cook a hot meal and await the arrival of our buds.
Just as we are about to sit down to supper in the cockpit "Tica" comes breezing by tooting a tin horn and shouting happily to announce their arrival as they circle "Pacific Jade" and anchor within calling distance. After our reunion we finish our wine in the cockpit while the sun sets, call goodnight to our friends across the water and retire below.
I've been having trouble loading the images at times. Soon you will have an image gallery to check out at our web site http://www.sailing-vacations-web.com/ Happy New Year everyone!
posted by Debra Anderson at 12:14 PM
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