And we had maybe a small bruise or two, but we hardly noticed them. Other folks had horrendous “boat bites”- huge bruises and various wounds from being slammed around in their boats.

We had swells coming from two directions, but every now and then they’d unite into a big wave. We’d look behind and see a 12-foot wave towering above us. But Sugata just rose on up, no big deal, and we’d surf along for a moment before settling back into the sailing groove.

We always felt safe, and never doubted that our boat could handle the wind and seas. She may not be the fastest boat around, but she’s got to be one of the most comfortable!

After our trip to the BVIs in 2005, our friend Dave Roy remarked, “That trip totally ruined me for the beach.” He pointed out that when you go to the beach, you have to schlep all your stuff, then you get sand all over everything, and it’s hot, and when you’re tired you have to schlep all your stuff back to wherever you’re staying. But on a boat, you just jump in, snorkel or swim a bit, then shower off right when you get out. No sand, no schlepping.

While I haven’t entirely given up on the beach, I can see Dave’s point… especially when we’re trekking from the bus stop to the boat on a hot afternoon, with the sun beating down, lugging all our wet gear. Kind of a great thing to have to complain about, isn’t it?

In the bird category, though, there is really no contest. Sure, the frigate birds are spectacular arialists, but they are such shameless thieves! The boobies have much to recommend them: they’re cute, they dive like arrows, and hey, they’re called boobies! But alas, none can compare to the ubiquitous, splendiforous… pelicans!

Whether in the shallow coves or the open sea, we see these hard-working birds fishing from sun-up until after sunset. They often hunt together, with several circling, angling, and then diving straight at the water with a resounding crash, only to bob back to the surface almost instantly. They’ll sit a moment, letting the water drain from their pouches, and then, after a little shake of the tail, they’re off again for another go.

In some bays, like The Hook at Isla San Francisco, there might be hundreds of pelicans fishing and resting. We like to sit in the cockpit at sunset and watch them circle and dive; it’s better than watching Nova on PBS!

Sometimes, a bird will fly overhead, and without seeing it, I’ll know it is a pelican because of the slight whistling sound of its wings. And maybe it is that recognition, that familiarity, that pleases me most.

Then, when we put the boat up in San Carlos, Toro insisted that we bring the book back to California, so he could read it under less soporific conditions. Somehow, those conditions never materialized, and the book served as a dust collection device.

So, I was taken aback when, soon after we arrived for our second season in Mexico, he asked me where the book was. I explained that since he hadn’t managed to read it in either country, I just left it at home. “This time,” he insisted, “I would have stayed awake.” It became a kind of running joke with us; I’d see some clouds and say, “Gee, I wonder what those clouds mean. If only we had a book about weather…”.

Unfortunately, having no proven techniques for forecasting the weather, Toro has resorted to inventing his own system for forecasting wind speeds. This he has applied to the night-time coromuel winds that blow through La Paz in the spring and summer months. After one uncomfortable night at Ensenada Grande, and many hours fretting about the possibility of another such night, this is what he’s come up with:

• If there is a wind with a Northerly component during the day, that wind will die in the late afternoon, and the Southwesterly coromuel will be twice as strong, as it rushes in behind the receding North wind.
• If there is no wind at all during the day, the day will be really hot, and the Southwesterly coromuel will be twice as strong, because the coromuel is drawn in by the hot air rising off the land.
• If there is a wind with a Southerly component during the day, the coromuel will be twice as strong, because it will combine with said Southerly wind.

Of course, he has only stated these different elements of his theory individually; I’m giving him a few more years to put them together into a synthesized whole.

I think this theory explains a lot, actually… but not about weather. I think it illustrates why sailors are such a superstitious lot. By nature, people are uncomfortable with uncertainty. Rather than accept that the weather is highly variable, and that we’ll just have to deal with whatever Mother Nature sends our way, we try to come up with explanations and ways to predict the unpredictable. And even if these predictions are based on ridiculous notions, well, at least we don’t have to feel helpless and completely out of control!

• People who think you are insane. They stammer, avoid eye contact, and look for a quick exit from the conversation. (Todd says this happened to him before we went sailing, but I think that was related to his ‘one day on, two days off’ showering schedule.)
• People who admire you for “following your bliss”, but who know that such a choice is not for them. These people are polite and encouraging, and we thank the gods for them, because someone has got to keep the home fires burning!
• People who harbor thoughts of a making a similar getaway. They get a faraway look in the eye, seem quiet for a moment, and then start asking you detailed questions about how to rent out your house.



• People who, despite their total lack of sailing skills, have a wild flash of inspiration that they should join you!

We got an interesting ‘application’ from someone in the latter category that I figured we should post as an example for those looking for crew positions.

I don’t want to publish his name for fear that some other captain will snap him up, so let’s just call him “Frank”. Here’s what Frank had to say:

Let me know next time you take a trip and need a deck hand. I would make the ideal ‘hand on deck’. My sailing knowledge is extensive to say the least although there was one embarrassing rookie episode involving my misunderstanding of the use of the poop deck.

Just a few of my sea faring attributes:

• I have a lot of technical knowledge. For example I know the big stick thingies support the large pieces of cloth so the wind can push the boat around.
• I smoke cigarettes.
• I get sea sick at the drop of a hat, so as long as no one drops their hat I’m fine.
• I can cook as long as the menu consists of boiled water and/or toast.
• I’m open minded concerning food as long as it’s not ‘lite’, contains or has been anywhere near tofu, and is the complete opposite of organic.



• I sunburn in a heartbeat. I once got sunburned watching ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ on television. I use the sunscreen with the picture of Andy Warhol on the bottle.
• I know lots of sailing terms like ‘gerbil the frig line’, ‘snort the phlegm mast’, ‘cleave the skiff knot’, and the one I hear the most, ‘get the hell out of my way before you kill us all’, just to name a few.
• I can swim and execute a gold medal quality cannonball dive. (I wish splash dives were an Olympic sport, but then again, who doesn’t?)

References furnished upon request once they’re parolled.