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| Curtis looks much happier today |
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| We take more photos on good days |
After the yesterday's adrenaline rush, today's six-hour trip down the coast was downright pleasant. We coasted past headlands, beaches, and hidden palm-lined canyons. We enjoyed long-distance looks at red-billed tropicbirds and good looks at blue-footed and brown boobies, magnificent frigatebirds, double-crested cormorants, brown pelicans, and royal terns. Another school of leaping devilrays greeted us near the entrance to Bahia San Carlos.
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| Isla San Pedro Nolasco, 17 miles west of San Carlos |
About 10 miles out, we contacted Marina Seca and were happily surprised that they could haul us out at 1:00 p.m. that afternoon. (Normally they require one or two days' notice.) We anchored out in the San Carlos Harbor for lunch, and then Sue brought Cilantro to the ramp, where the Marina Seca crew expertly hauled us out. An ordinary end to a not-so-ordinary cruise.
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| Haul-out at Marina San Carlos |
Back at Marina Seca, we spent the remaining hot hours of the afternoon unloading gear, cleaning the bilge and engine compartment, and assessing the damage from the flooding. The most difficult repair would be the shaft seal, which would entail pulling the driveshaft and propeller and possibly the rudder. The most expensive loss was our inverter, ruined by its prolonged soak in saltwater. Part of our battery monitoring system would also need to be replaced.
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| Heart Interface inverter |
On that note, we escaped to buy some cold beer and check in (and shower!) at our favorite $30/night lodging: Departamentos Adlai, where the simple rooms are spotlessly clean, the air conditioning works, and the managers brought us a platter of freshly cut tropical fruit.
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| Sue tries to match the bougainvillea at Departamentos Adlai |
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| Curtis tries to blend in with the paint |
The following morning we stripped the sails and running rigging to take them home for cleaning. Then we readied Cilantro for hot summer storage by covering portlights, winches, and other deck-mounted items with aluminum foil. Sue persuaded Curtis to engage the services of Jimmy (pronounced "Hee-mee") to wash and wax Cilantro's deck and topsides, rather than do it ourselves. For once, it was not difficult to convince him. Jimmy came well recommended and -- we hear -- has his own interesting story of having come to Mexico years ago as a stowaway on a boat from Africa. We left Jimmy in charge and departed for Arizona.
The drive home passed quickly, perhaps because we had a lot to talk about. We know there will always be mishaps and unexpected adventures, but we hadn't expected the learning curve to be quite so steep. At least we brought the boat back, in one piece. Sue was glad to realize that she can be focused and productive in an emergency. Curtis is always calm, at least outwardly, so no news there. "This was the most grueling vacation I've taken," said Sue. Curtis agreed, although he did admit to a history of grueling vacations in his past, after each of which he was relieved to get back to work. Hmm, thought Sue, filing away this tidbit for future reference.
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| Queen's wreath vine (Antigonon leptopus) along Hwy 15 in Sonora |
Curtis had planned on tackling the repairs to Cilantro in October, in cooler weather, but even the best-laid plans can change. As of this writing, Curtis has just arrived in Bermuda, sailing with our friend Bob on Alaria, his 34-foot Pacific Seacraft. The crew of four are en route from Maine to St. Martin in the Caribbean, so that Bob, a marine scientist, can spend the winter studying coral reefs. Meanwhile, Cilantro is patient, resting up for our return.
