Allymar hauling out in La Paz

Hola

When I flew into La Paz in October of last year it was refreshing to see Allymar sitting there in the yard as we flew over the marina. Now she sits there again and the big question now is which side of the plane I will need to be on to see her as I fly out. Put her on the hard yesterday and spent the night up on solid ground (althouth 12 feet up in the guess air) for the first time in quite a while. Suprisingly the boat seemed to be moving still as I adjusted to the lack of movement. Getting to the travel lift was the usual difficult maueuver as the old girl just does not back up well. I do like having a mizzen mast but times like the travel lift backing in and lack of a place to put solar panels makes me yern for a cutter rig.

Now that I am putting her up and remember all of the many tasks to do so, I guess that lack of memory is a survival mechanism.

Luckily I am not alone as there are 3 other boat slaves doing the same as me. Gives us something else to talk about rather than sailing stories

Ken

April 8th

Found these three pictures when I was going through the mess seeing what to keep. They represent the best and worst of the time I have spent here. The best is the meal in San Evistro at the restruante of a locasl fishing family. Two tables, a palapa roof and you can have anything you want to eat, as long as it was fish, rice and beans (plus cervesa). She was out of fish and had to send her daughter down to the boat to get one to cook. Prfetty good and fresh. To see Steve and Claudia again after a year, and sit with Tom who we were buddy boating with (Dean took the picture) made it all better.

Ah, the worst. Working on your boat in exotic places. The 40 year old deck was fast going south in the hot sun and needed immediate repair. A 10 grand or more new deck was out of the querstion. The solution for now is a pl=olymer rubber based roofing paint to seal and pprotect what is left. I have it on fairly good referral that it works OK in the short term (3-5 years)

Harp (that water dog of a girl) swimming in the bay at Tenacatica. Hard to keerp her out of the water.

Great vista on the east side of Isla Partita. Good hike up the dry wash and over the saddle on the other side.

Gonna haul Allymar out tomorrow and continue the process of putting her away for 7 months.

Wondering on April 1st 2011

Crocolile in San Blas Bird in the estuary in San Blas

Gringo's doing what gringo's do Allymar in the sparkles

Do

Don't poop on the beach

Me eating pasta with my garlic pressure cooker bread

Bringing in a fish on the hand line

What a great Yellow tail tuna

Well, here I am back in La Paz B.C.S. winding down my trip and stay in Mexico. Iyt has been a great time and adventure the past 5 months traveling both in the Sea of Cortez and mainland Merxico on the west coast since October of 2010. I am ready to go home and resume my real life with memories that will last forever. I have mixed feelings with doing this without my wife Harp (doing it alone with crew etc) balanced against the many wonderful experiences and challenges that were met and surpassed. I have to thank her for this opportunity to travel while she stayed home and worked. I also must thank my wonderful mother who saved my first kindergarten finger painting which was of a sailboat. She also reminded of the many times I made boats out of scrap wood that always had a sail. As I plan for next year the need to maintain focus on what I want foe the rest of my like is most important. Sailing is like life, once you loose your focus it is so easy to get off course. It is remarkable how good an autopilot and windvane steers Allymar, never getting tired, needing a bathroom break or whinning about something. I have tendencies to put my life on autopilot, a thing that does not work for us organic vessels. I have once again learned to not trust the instruments. To look, feel the wind on my cheek and feel the motion on Allymar. To not envy the yacht that passed us, or the large one with microwave and a dishwasher. Thay have their own problems and my life is all that I can handle right now. So, as I remember and ponder the last months of fun and life, it seems like going into a northger when I am trying to go north. Than happyness is always just one step behind frustration. The sunsets and sunrises were great although there was no green flash this year. The small towns and slow anchorages were quiet and fulfilling. The Mexical people are so industrious and capable with so little in comparison to us rich northamericanos. I will try to remember to say hello, good by and thank you to the people I deal with back home. Those few words are spoken all the time and not just as a rote thing. Smiles and communications were extendedto me all the time in ways not seen in the US. Sailing made me appreciate the unexpected. To change plans for safety, smooth sailing or just to go somewhere else became easy. There was always another day to get to that harbor and the place we did go to was usually a pleasant suprise and had hidden gems of wonder. Many time I wrote in my log that we up-anchored and had a ????? as to where we were going. hard to cast something in ce3ment on the water eh. Speaking of instruments (earlier in this message I was) that wind indicator on the top of the mast that was supposed to tell me the direction of the wind was sold to me incorrectly. It is actually a directional pointer telling us the way to go. We sure had noserlies a lot especially coming northg from Barra de Navidad. I saw the southern cross, made a correct sun sight with the sextant and worked out our position with the sight reduction tables, drank too much cervesa and usually ate good. I made new and revisited with old friends. Hopefully to see them again on the seas. I will be heading home on the 14th of April, and expect the rain to stop (did you hear that rain gods). As to next season, who knows.

As for now it is time to play out one of the truisms of sailing "Having the opportunity to work on your boat in fun and interesting locations".

Fair winds and an exciting life to all Ken