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We met Jade at the Cancun airport about 8:30 pm on New Years Eve. With the help of a taxi, a ferry, and eager legs, we managed to reach the central plaza in Isla Mujeres with thirty minutes still left in 2016. Music blared from a sizable stage in the corner, and it seemed the whole town mingled about among tables, some still covered with the detritus of dinner. Some local women wore their sexiest dresses. Some men, reeking of cologne, displayed unopened bottles of liquor on their table. Some grandmothers entertained small children. All were patient and well-behaved. The countdown to midnight came: … Cinco ... Cuatro ... Tres ... Dos ... Uno ... ¡Feliz año nuevo! Corks were popped, kisses were planted, and the revelry started. Unlike our New Year’s parties, which reach their climax at midnight, Mexican New Year’s parties only get started at midnight. Following our own tradition, Maribeth and Jade and I soon walked back to the marina and fell into our bunks. But the locals had been napping all day, and they partied hard into the night. The strongest and most popular among them, we’re told, enthusiastically toasted the sunrise at Punta Sur.
In early January, we rented a car with Kent and Shelley of s/v Alta Mae, and took a four-day road trip. First stop was the delightful little city of Valladolid (Va-ya-doh-LEED,) built on the ancient Mayan settlement of Saki. We visited the nearby Mayan ruins at Ek Balam. And then we drove to Merida, the capital of the state of Yucatan. We saw an amazing show of music and dancing and acrobatics in the Plaza Mayor, and we had some fabulous meals. Kent and I even took a reconnaissance drive to Progreso and Yucalpeten.
Jade stayed 10 days, and we were sad to see her go. Then my dear cousin Lavergne passed away after a long illness, so I made a quick trip to North Carolina for her funeral. Then Maribeth and I turned our attention to finding employment, or at least taking preliminary steps in that direction. Every day, Monday through Friday, we took turns with the laptop and the phone. We wrote resumes, updated our LinkedIn profiles, and reached out to old co-workers, clients, and bosses. We got a little momentum going.
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| El Milagro Marina, Isla Mujeres, Mexico |
But mostly we enjoyed life in Isla Mujeres. The weather is perfect, the scenery sublime, the people are generous, prices are low, and the living is easy. Days and weeks slipped by. Beyond Shelly and Kent on Alta Mae, we got to be great friends with Paul and Fiona and Celeste and Lincoln and Poppy on s/v Gone Walkabout, and Mike and Jean of s/v Tomorrow’s Dawn, and Rob and Rhian of s/v Beyzano, and Phil and Maiia of s/v Thumbs Up, and Jeff and Diane of s/v Horizons, and Mike from s/v Segue, and Steve and Anna from s/v Bad Kitty, and Dave and Mary of s/v Argonauta, and Johnny and Bambi from s/v Gemini. We were delighted when Roy and Dale of s/v Wahoo showed up in the marina one day. (I have been following the blog of this New Orleans couple for years!) And we reconnected with Tim and Philippa of s/v Seraphim, who we had first encountered last May in the Cayman Islands, and with whom we had explored Tikal and Lago Izabal.
We watched many sunsets from the rooftop of the hotel. We made nearly daily trips to Chedraui, the local supermarket. We tried hard, so hard, to learn Spanish. But the locals had little patience, more than once telling me “Your Spanish is not so good. Let’s speak English.” We attended many sailor cocktail hours, and sampled many restaurants, bars, and music venues. I set up the sewing machine on the ping pong table and replaced the clear vinyl in my bimini. I completed a dozen minor repairs and upgrades on La Peregrina, and hired Alejandra to replace the solar cover on the genoa. We watched Captain Ron in the marina theatre room. (It’s even better after you’ve been sailing for a year.) I earned $55 USD one day by crewing on a charter sail one afternoon. And I discovered a local brewery that actually makes an IPA! Isla Mujeres is an easy place to love. And a very hard place to leave.
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| Isla Mujeres is the eastern-most part of Mexico, and the first to see the sunrise. |
But we did, finally, decide it was time to head home. On Thursday, February 16th, we pulled out of El Milagro Marina and anchored in Isla Mujeres Harbor. At four o’clock the next morning, we lifted the anchor, raised the sails, and headed north. Given the weather forecast and the location of the Gulf Stream, we had worked out a course that involved going 27 degrees north for 140 nautical miles, and then turning to 75 degrees east for another 180 miles to the Dry Tortugas. The plan worked out almost flawlessly. Over the next 48 hours, the wind blew at 15 to 20 knots - perfect for La Peregrina - first from the east, and then the southeast, and finally the south. We were on a reach the entire way. The ride was comfortable and fast. It was imperfect only because the wind died about four hours too early. We motored past Loggerhead Key, and dropped anchor to the east of Fort Jefferson at 9:00 am on the 19th, 53 hours after raising anchor in Mexico. We were back in the U.S.A.!
What a fabulous place the Dry Tortugas are! We have sailed there twice before, but were still surprised at how lovely and unique it is. We walked through the Fort, strolled along the wall enclosing the moat, and marveled at the thousands of frigate birds and gulls and skimmers that chatter all day. Best of all, though, was the unexpected arrival in the anchorage of some old friends from home. Maribeth and I were down below when we heard voices outside the boat. I stepped up into the cockpit, and there was Chris and Melody DiCroce sitting in their dinghy with their dog Jet! They had just arrived aboard s/v Vacilando after an overnight sail from Fort Myers, and were surprised to discover La Peregrina floating nearby. What a wonderful coincidence! We shared a cocktail or two that evening, and walked around the fort again with them the next day.
There is no potable water at the Dry Tortugas, no marina, no cell phone service or wifi, no restaurants, and no stores to buy provisions. So sailboats don’t generally stay long. While Chris and Melody debated whether to head for Mexico or to Cuba (I'm betting they're in Cuba right now,) Maribeth and I decided to raise anchor and head northeast. It is about 130 nautical miles to Ft. Myers Beach, but we had good SE or SSE wind and it was a pleasant sail for almost the entire distance. But during Maribeth’s last watch, from 4:00 to 8:00 am on the 22nd, the wind rose, and the rain poured. I was below, sleeping like a baby. When Maribeth finally woke me I was surprised at how rough the conditions had become and how threatening the skies appeared. As her watch ended, though, the seas began to calm, and the dark clouds lifted. By 1:00 pm, we were anchored in calm, protected water off Merwin Key.
The wind offshore was poor for sailing the next day, so we motored north on the ICW. At mid-day, we had another wonderful surprise when we passed s/v Layla, a Canadian-flagged Tahiti Ketch we had gotten to know in the Exumas last March! Mike and Marilu easily persuaded us to join them at Pelican Bay anchorage that evening. A grand time was had. It seems we are encountering old friends more and more frequently these days. It’s one of the best things about cruising under sail.
We’re anchored tonight off Otter Key near Sarasota, Florida. There is a mangrove wilderness immediately in front of us, and multi-million-dollar mansions just behind us. For a day and a half now, we’ve been watching a pair of bald eagles and a pair of ospreys fight for possession of a nearly-completed nest in a tall dead tree. We headed to this spot at the suggestion of s/v Layla’s crew because of its easy access to the restaurants and shops of St. Armand’s Circle, and because David and Mary and Ann Binkley agreed to meet us here. It was great to see them, and to have them visit us for lunch aboard La Peregrina today.
Tomorrow, we plan to continue north and head out Egmont Key Pass. We’re not certain of our next stop. We should have 48 or 60 hours of SE and S winds before a cold front arrives. Perhaps we'll make Apalachicola. Or maybe Pensacola. Mobile is probably too far. This little escapade is almost over.
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