After 17 days tied up to the wall it's time to head south. Bill and Mary Jane on "Gray Max" watch as we make preparations to leave and call on the radio to offer assistance. Joe removes the bow line and Bill and M.J. maneuver their dinghy between the concrete wall and PJ and nudge the pointy end of the boat out into the harbour. This makes the turn in the confined space much easier. Joe lets the stern tie go as I put the engine in gear and with a wave we were off again, sorry to leave behind new friends but happy to see the last of the stinkin' wall.

Once I navigate our way out the harbour entrance we feel as free as the dolphins that greet us along the way. From this point we have no real schedule and we don't plan to dock at a marina for at least two months. We hoist the sails and set a course for the tres marietas (the three little marias) a trio of tiny islands that lie at Banderas bay's entrance. Although not suitable for overnight anchoring this is a wonderful stop for a day sail.

The word around the marina is that the whales are very active right now and before P.J. has even warmed to her journey we sight them waltzing on the waves. Their massive backs gleaming as they gracefully surface then submerge , dark dorsals prodding the air then dipping into the dark blue brine. Breathy exhalations clearly audible in the quiet morning as steamy geysers spew skyward.

The air stirs just enough to keep the sails full and propel us slowly across the bay and the waves slurp softly against the hull. Trailing along behind is Joe's fishing line (maybe we'll catch a really slow fish). The distant pop, pop, pop of a helicopter punctuates our bubble of silence .This is bliss, traveling at the whim of the wind and weather and making our plans on the go. A large swell and crashing surf make it unwise for us to leave the boat and go ashore when we approach the tres marietas. We take a look at the inviting beach and caves carpeted with sugar white sand and reluctantly turn our vessel away and head for safe anchorage at Punta Mita.

As we leave the Marietas behind our attention is caught by a large patch of creamy green water just off our starboard bow.We veer off sharply thinking that an uncharted rock lies there. Holy s**t! (pardon our spanish) we yell as a humpback whale rises completely out of the sea at our stern remaining suspended momentarily while we view his exposed speckled belly then tips slowly sideways and falls crashing into the broth, leaving a patch of creamy green sea behind.

WOW! In every direction we cast our eyes there are whales spouting, surfacing, displaying fins and flukes and rising out of the waves, crashing and splashing as PJ bobs among them like a crunchy crouton in a briny bowl of whale soup. The antics continue through the afternoon and even once we're anchored at Punta Mita we continue to be entertained by whales leaping in the distance.

With our anchor resting on the sea bed 24 feet below, we wait for weather that will make for a relatively comfortable trip around Cabo Corrientes, the cape that extends off the south point of Banderas Bay. Almost any cape needs to be approached with caution as the winds and seas can build to dangerous heights at these outcropings. Corrientes means currents and these along with the wind can make this point uncomfortable and even dangerous. When heading south or north this is one of the points where patience can make the difference between a comfortable or uncomfortable passage or even making it at all. Punta Mita is a jumping off point and more than half of the boats anchored here are waiting for suitable weather to head north, south or across to the Marquesa's.

It's going to be a day or two til a good weather window arrives, enough time to get some boat projects done. Joe masks up and goes over the side with a scraper and boat brush to clean the bottom and scrape the propeller. Schools of small tuna startle and scoot away as Joe makes his noisy entrance.

We've noticed a vibration while motoring underway and hope that scraping the barnacles from the prop will minimize it. Even a couple of weeks in these tropical waters allows a slimy growth to adhere to every surface beneath the water line. The murky waters of marinas and lagoons speed this process and the very murk that creates the problem is a deterrant to submerging ones self and addressing the problem while there. Give it a month or two and crusty creatures can set up entire colonies.

While Joe scrubs the bottom the school of tuna slowly filter back to the boat surrounding him and offering colorful companionship. I stay on top and pass and retrieve various tools and brushes. We talk and pass the time during Joe's brief rests between dives. His longest time under the water is 20 seconds ( probably those cigars) .

Swimming, cooking, boat projects, playing and planning the trip fill the day and a half spent waiting. Joe dangles a line over the side trying to tempt a tiny tuna with a bare hook. Laughingly I tell him "those little fish aren't going to bite ". Still, he persists and a couple of hours later, disappointed, he brings the line in. With a splash and a plop an 8 inch bit of silver and yellow lands on the deck just minutes later. "I got one!" Joe whoops as he rescues the slapping fish from his shallow puddle , quickly determines that he's much too small and returns him to the sea. Yep, sometimes they just jump right on the boat. Hope the whales don't try that.

The weather is ripe for the passage around Cabo Corrientes.

To bed early, we'll leave around 0300 hrs .