December 31, Isla Mujeres, Mexico

Howard arrived in Roatan on a rainy Friday.  It was the day after Thanksgiving, and we had celebrated the holiday with a group of rogues, misfits, and sailors in the "tiki palapa," an open-air, thatch-roofed structure at Fantasy Island Marina.  I was still full of turkey and sweet potatoes when we picked him up at the airport.  The dismal weather that had characterized the Carlton's visit - frequent rain and too-little-wind-to-sail - was still dampening our spirits.  At least we caught enough rain to fill the water tanks.

It was good to have Howard aboard.  He threw himself into little tasks that I had ignored for weeks or months.  It's amazing what that guy can fix with WD-40 and Superglue!  With help from the motor, we traveled to Roatan's West End, and then to Utila where we checked out of Honduras.  Then we did the overnight passage to Placencia, Belize via Ranguana Pass.  With a third person available to take a watch, we each had eight hours off between watches.  What a luxury!   

We enjoyed Placencia.  A quiet little town consisting of a couple of dirt roads and one very long concrete sidewalk.  They had a good grocery store, some good eateries, and a convenient bar with a dinghy dock where the sailors congregated.  We traveled down to the Monkey River, which we explored by dinghy.  We saw lots of birds, including toucans, and heard howler monkeys in the distance.  We spent a couple of nights anchored at beautiful, peaceful Palmetto Cay, bumping the bottom during our first approach.  The electronic charts for Belize have serious errors, often placing reefs and islands a quarter mile or more from where they actually sit.  (Trust your eyes, not your chart plotter!)

Captain Howard and Maribeth on the beach at Little Water Cay, Belize

The rain was no longer troublesome, but the wind remained too light for sailing, and none of us were thrilled by the prospect of motoring.  But Howard was flying out of Belize City in a few days, and we needed to get further north.  So we headed off, first to Little Water Cay, then Glover's Reef, then South Water Cay...   As we moved north, the wind returned.  Belize has the world's second-largest barrier reef (behind Australia's Great Barrier Reef.)  The reef breaks the swells and waves from the Caribbean Sea, making for flat, fast, comfortable sailing.  The coast is oriented north and south, and the wind blows typically from the east, meaning we sailed north on a reach, the fastest point of sail.  I was happy Howard could enjoy a couple full days of fabulous sailing - often at 7 knots or more - as we made our way north to Colson Cays and ultimately to Caye Caulker.  

Howard caught a puddle jumper out of Caye Caulker on the 10th, and Maribeth and I prepared to sail north to Mexico.   Our plan was to make the short 24-mile sail from San Pedro to Xcalak (ish-CAH-lahk.) Xcalak has a tricky entrance through the reef, and we wanted to arrive there when the sun was high in the sky.  So we set out early on the 14th, motoring and bouncing out the narrow, twisting path through San Pedro Pass.  Once safely through the pass, we decided to motor further east to gain a better angle on the wind for our sail north.  But then the motor sputtered and died.  I knew the motor was fuel-starved, but the tank had plenty of diesel, and I had just replaced the fuel filter.  Nevertheless, I re-checked the filter, and added our reserve jug of fuel to the tank.  No luck.  Maybe there was air in the system.   I worked the manual pump, but could get no fuel to the motor.   So we concluded we must have a blockage somewhere in the fuel line.  The seas were much too uncomfortable for me to start tearing into fuel lines.   What to do?  There was no way I was going to attempt sailing into Xcalak with no motor.  A mistake would be disastrous.   For the same reason, we couldn't even return to San Pedro.  So I started studying the chart as Maribeth helmed the boat.  We were headed north, but the only pass through the reef that seemed safe for a boat with no motor was four hours south of us.  So, reluctantly, we turned around.  To make matters worse, I became momentarily seasick, leaving Maribeth to jibe La Peregrina by herself while I hung on the lifeline, giving my breakfast to the sea.  What a miserable puppy I was!  And thank God Maribeth is a good sailor!

By 1:30, we had sailed through Long Cay Pass and anchored in the lee of Long Cay.   Within an hour, I found and cleared a blockage in the fuel line, and bled the air from the system.  The motor ran great.  We had started the day 24 miles from Xcalak, and now we were 40 miles away.   Our weather window for sailing north had now closed.  One step forward, two steps back.  

Three days later, we set out again.  We raised anchor before dawn and sailed north from Caye Caulker.  We were through San Pedro Pass for the second time at 8:00 am, and pointed north on a beautiful reach, this time headed for Isla Mujeres.  We were moving slow at first, but we gradually gained speed as we moved further offshore.  At four o'clock, I reeled in the fishing line, and was surprised to discover we had caught a baracuda.  Finally, we had gotten a fish into the cockpit, but not one we cared to eat!   

It turned out to be a fantastic sail.   We had winds from 15 to 24 knots, 60 to 120 degrees to starboard the entire way.  La Peregrina was so happy!  We sailed for hours at 7 knots or more.  For a few hours near Cozumel, the current helped us move along at more than 9 knots, hitting 10.2 knots a couple of times.  Fasten your seatbelt!  We had the anchor down in Bahia Isla Mujeres at 4:30 in the afternoon.  We had made the 230 nautical miles from Caye Caulker to Isla Mujeres in 35 hours, counting ground tackle time at both ends of the trip.  And the motor, which had caused us to abort our first attempt at reaching Mexico, had barely run at all.  

We spent five days getting checked into Mexico, a more difficult process than any other country we've visited this year.  By the time we were through, it was only two days until Christmas.  We decided to give ourselves some marina time for Christmas.  So we moved from the anchorage to El Milagro Marina and Resort.  Here we had a tremendous Christmas meal with about 80 people, comprised of the marina's sailors, hotel guests, and the Mexican workers and their families.  We were terribly homesick for friends and family.  But it was a fun gathering, and a great cultural experience we will long remember.

La Peregrina, dressed for Christmas

I think we'll stay here at El Milagro for another week or two.  Jade arrives tonight for a ten-day visit.  We can't wait to have her.   

I write this on New Year's Eve.  As we approach the end of "Our Year of Living Dangerously," we naturally reflect back on this remarkable experience.   We've seen and learned much.  One thing we've really come to appreciate is how much all of you mean to us.  Please know that you are never far from our thoughts, that we love to hear from you, and that we wish you all the very best for 2017 and beyond.  

¡Feliz año nuevo!