GOTTA DODGER? THAT'S A ROGER!

My horoscope today:

You're all about brainstorming right now and your friends or coworkers should line up behind at least one of your nuttier schemes. Don't be shy about telling the whole world exactly what's on your mind!

Hmmmmm...

Dodger down

When we bought the "Green Flash," it was missing some essentials, such as an engine, water and fuel tanks, headsail, bulkheads, galley, berths, etc. But there was a bewildering pile of dark blue canvas, plastic and screening stitched together with grommets and zippers along the edges, and lots of stainless steel tubing to be assembled into a dodger, or maybe two dodgers or a dodger and a bimini (a little dodger for the helm). For lubbers, a dodger is the tentlike canvas that gives you shade, without which you'd toast to a crisp your first day out. Today the Capt is on the patio trying to figure out what he can make of it. What caught my attention were the seams and zippers that need repairing. But all in all, it's well-constructed and useful, and means we can probably put off building a hard dodger for a few years.
Dodger up

The restless leg problem didn't return last night, and I began to think it's a sporadic situation. Maybe the secondary type. Anyway, I learned something new yesterday, a good workout for the little gray cells.

JOINING THE NIGHT WALKERS

Wassa matter, can't you sleep?

Last night I experienced Restless Leg Syndrome for maybe the third time in my life. Very uncomfortable, though not life-threatening. The bad effects are, aside from the discomfort, the lost sleep--not only the suffer's sleep but sometimes the partner's, too.

This morning the Capt found a banner in the NY Times Health Section announcing that it's RLS Awareness Week, a marketing ploy cooked up by Mirapex, one of the drugs aimed at relieving the symptoms. Struck by the coincidence but wary of a sales pitch, I checked out their info page.

Briefly, here's the scoop: There are two forms of RLS, primary and secondary. Symptoms of both are an inability to relax leg muscles, especially when trying to sleep. The pins-and-needles sensation and deep muscle cramping are only relieved by moving the legs and stretching them. Getting up and walking around is sometimes the only solution, so people with RLS are sometimes called "Night Walkers," by fellow members of the RLS Foundation.

The Mirapex website says there's no cure for primary RLS. It's often genetic (ask your folks).

Side effects of Mirapex don't sound like a cakewalk either: dizziness, weariness, sweatiness, nausea and headache. You may fall asleep without warning while driving. And another remedy, Requip, can turn you into a compulsive gambler! Seriously, it's listed in their side effects.

Secondary RLS can happen during conditions like pregnancy, obesity, smoking addiction and anemia, and it goes away when they are resolved. Have the baby, lose the smokes and some pounds, take some iron and you're symptom free, lucky you.

Alcohol, H2-histamine blockers (like Zantac and Tagamet), certain antidepressants (such as Elavil) can make your legs want to dance at inconvenient times. Also caffeine. Now that could be a problem.

PITS, PILES AND MARITAL AIDS

Mexican traffic cones

Tuesday I reached a milestone with the printing of the first draft of our antique guide. A huge job, mapping and detailing antique stores in six states, and the printout is a stack of paper 1-1/2" thick. The whole thing goes onto the Internet, and last year's edition can be viewed at www.cochrans.com.

So yesterday I came up for air and took the day off to indulge in one of my favorite guilty pleasures: tianguis! There are three tianguis a week in Guaymas and one in Empalme (just a few miles past Guaymas) so I have plenty of opportunities to indulge.. Imagine: there are two I haven't even been to yet!

So we start off in the pickup, chatting about our errand list at the stop sign and about a block from home, "whump!" At first we think it's a bad pothole in the brick pavement, but when we try to go forward we find we're stuck. The Capt climbs out and takes a look. "This is no pothole," he says. "This is a hole!" After a few tries he's able to back out of it and he climbs out for another look. It's a break in the pavement more than two feet long, over a pit about six feet deep, he reports. No traffic cones, no warning signs.

"Let's come back the other way," I suggest.

Wednesday's tianguis is held a couple of blocks from the harbor so there's a very welcome breeze off the water, if you slow down long enough to feel it. We found a shady parking place, amazing when you consider there are only three or four of them in all of downtown Guaymas!

While the Capt heads for his favorite tool booth, I make a beeline for the Pile Guys on Apparel Row. The fact that I don't actually need more clothes is beside the point.

On Apparel Row there are always racks of clothes, nothing over $5 which is miraculous considering new clothing in stores is priced higher than in the States. But my favorite vendors pile clothes on long tables, three feet deep. There's a lot of polyester, a lot of junk and untidiness, but when I take the time to dig, I find jewels! Here's a pair of teal shorts, my color, my size. Subtle color schemes catch my eye today. A silk Hawaiian shirt patterned in slate blue, gray and gold orchids and palms calls out to me. I dig a little more and find a rayon sundress in an exotic tattoo pattern of brown and black. A navy blue sleeveless linen shirt with a mandarin collar, muy elegante. Ten pesos --less than a dollar--apiece.

Part of the pleasure of piles is comparing finds with other women. Sometimes I find I'm pulling on one end of an item and a lady across the table has hold of the other end, always good for a laugh. A tired-looking young mother is digging for baby clothes, and I unearth a tiny, frilly dress that lights up her eyes. We smile and "Awwww" together over a little white satin confirmation dress and share a giggle over a silk teddy in shocking pink ruffles. She insists it's me, and I reply that it's perfect for her. This is the real reason I keep at my Spanish, for random conversations.

The Capt locates me somehow (he's like a bloodhound!) and proudly presents his finds: An espresso machine to replace our old,leaking one (100 pesos), and a new pair of walkie talkies (another 100 pesos). We had discovered only this morning that our old ones weren't working anymore. The new ones have several channels, inputs for headphones and much better sound. Walkie talkies are essential for hunting and gathering in big stores, rummage sales and such, allowing us to cut the hunting part down by half. I highly recommend a pair for a wedding or anniversary gift that won't end up in the "return" pile. They could do a lot to promote matrimonial harmony, and the calls are free. Unless, of course, you forget to turn them off; then you need AAA batteries. But the Battery Guy sells them cheap.
Walkie talkies are a great marital aid

One other pile is left for us to investigate: stuffed toys. We dig through looking for a new critter to take home to Chica, rejecting anything with glued-on eyes she might be able to chew off and swallow. I find a shaggy orange orangutan and the Capt pulls out a mate for it, in purple. They have Velcro patches on their paws, so they can be linked together. The orange one even has a velcro pocket on its back, and inside is a tiny banana. Que divertido!

LATER: Chica loves her orangutans and drags them all over the house. They say dogs are colorblind, but I could swear she favors the orange one.

At five, I head over to JC's cafe to pick up a couple of loaves of homemade bread, and stop to check on the mysterious pit, bringing my camera along this time. There's a police pickup parked around the corner and two concerned-looking cops are staring down into it. Their solution: stick a bundle of palm fronds into it. I notice they head back to their station, and on my return ten minutes later, I see three police cars at the pit, and a gaggle of cops staring into it. The pit has been there since at least 9am when we rolled into it, now it's 5pm and suddenly it's an emergency.

Mexican time...

BAD HAIR DAY

Full moon tonight. Isn't there something about when you cut hair at the full moon it grows back faster? Or is it slower? Faster, I hope, because I just gave Chica her first haircut and it's awful.

Before I acquired this little hairball, having lived nine years with the other hairball, Sophie, I had promised myself the next dog would have self-limiting hair. That is, hair that knew when to stop growing. But nooooo. I saw this Maltese in the remorseless hands of the Puppy Man and had to take her home.

I sensibly acquired a top-of-the-line clipper, an Oster Gold, which I figured would do a painless, swift grooming every couple of months. But what I didn't know is that the Oster Gold is loud, and little puppies are terrified of it. When I gently tried to swipe down her back, she went ballistic. When the Capt tried to do it, same results.

So this morning I tried a pair of scissors on her. The first session went rather badly, with a great deal of struggling on her part and a lot of fear that I'd cut flesh instead of hair on my part. But later when she was groggy from a nap, I tried again and I got most of her done. It looks a little strange because I couldn't do much with her head, so it looks abnormally large, and the rest is sort of...well, tufty. But before I was finished she was letting me hold and snip at her paw while she sat patiently.

She's giving me a look in this picture that says it all. "I thought you liked me like I was, hair and all, but you just had to fix me and now look at me." She doesn't know it'll grow back.

And then we'll have to do it again.

STILL SMILING, EDDIE?

Governor Bours (center) with an dressed-for-success woman and a hard-hatted engineer-type, demonstrate "Sonora Style."

"We very pretty people, no?" Bloody Mary in "South Pacific"

Sonora Governor Eduardo Bours Castelo is keeping a low profile after having fallen from his horse Thursday the 13th (his personal unlucky day), on one of his country estates. But he's still making headlines, promising improvements in the state's road system, specifically in Hermosillo, the state capital.

Since his election in 2003, the north/south bypass in Hermosillo that was supposed to make border-bound traffic smoother has been finished, but we discovered on our last trip that it's actually easier to go through town. Oh, well, it's the thought that counts.

Now he's promising even more improvements, even though the process will be painful, and toes will be stepped on. We have to think of the benefit to the majority, not the minority, he insists. At the moment he's probably very capable of empathizing with pain.

The most visible "improvements" we could directly attribute to the youthful-looking 50-year-old governor, from the family that owns the very successful Bachoco egg and meat processors, are the many billboards we see on the highways and streets. All depict Bours in a business suit, with various groups of very healthy-looking, well-dressed Mexicans (few of whom appear to have any Indian blood). He's got businessmen and -women, hard-hatted engineers, farmers, elderly, kids, mothers, nurses...all smiling optimistically against an enormous billowing Sonoran flag. The Gov's smile in every shot is bright, white and exactly the same. The message on each billboard reads "This is how it's done in Sonora...in Sonora Style." The people are portrayed as being "national leaders in a generation of enterprise, employment and economic development." Hurray for us.

I had almost stopped looking at them, they were so much alike, until a new one caught my eye. There, finally, was the Gov, looking very white in contrast to three indigenas, Indians supposedly representing the three tribes native to Sonora.

Well, good for him, I guess. Here's hoping his broken ribs and shoulderblade heal soon and he takes extra care next time he gets on a horse.

GARRAPATA GUERRA

Female ticks, before and after dinner


This morning the Spanish vocabulary word is "garrapata." The "g" is pronounced almost like a "w", the "r's" are rolled vigorously. A garrapata is a tick, and we have declared our own guerra (war) against the local garrapata. And the first thing we need is WMDs.

There are a few meager patches of grass in front of the casa, and from the evidence I'd have to guess they are crawling with garrapatas. No fleas, not a one, but an overpopulation of ticks. Every time I check the dogs, I find six or eight. This is after I've recently treated them both with Advantix, the new stuff that's supposed to kill and repel fleas, ticks and mosquitoes. Well, does it kill them, or just change their tiny minds so they go looking for other flesh, like the nearby humans? (cringe) In my experience, it just makes them easier to pick off, as though they're not as eager as usual to sink their nasty little mandibles into treated dogflesh.

Chica, our puppy, is fairly cooperative about letting me examine her for ticks, while Sofia, our 9-year-old, acts positively proprietary about hers. Let me find just one, and she starts growling and stalks away while I'm busy mashing it. Unfortunately, Sofia is the one who's able to jump onto the bed and make a cozy nest for herself and her ticks on my pillow (shudder). Chica, who I have been able to keep clean of ticks, isn't yet able to jump onto the bed though it's obviously her life's ambition.

So we're reluctantly heading to Guaymas to buy a spray to poison the grass. I worry about poisoning the dogs and the feral feline family, but hopefully we can find something that's only fatal to ticks.

And that's why we're memorizing the word garrapata today. And for your information, my dictionary says garrapata also means a chigger, or a disabled horse (!)
The Capt shops for WMDs at Domestiplagas

ARRGH, MATEY, IT'S 'TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY'

Not to be confused with a national holiday, never to be government sanctioned, but it's International Talk Like A Pirate Day.

There's even a newsletter and a website for the lads and wenches who take such things seriously and look for any excuse to carouse. Says Jezebel, Webwench to the Pirate Guys:

"Try not t' burn down the port or put each other's eyes out (or if ye do, make sure ye've got eyepatches on hand), an' don't feel ashamed t'hand the helm over to a sober mate if ye indulge in a touch too much o' the grog. We wenches likes our pirates live, we do."

And while my Capt would rather be out at sea, he spent the day digging holes the hard way for fence posts. This involves breaking up the stony ground with a long pointed object, then scooping away dirt for a while, repeating the process, until a hole almost three feet is dug. He and our good friend Carlos did this all morning, then installed the fence posts and erected a fine-looking hurricane fence around the Green Flash down at the workyard.



Meanwhile I sat at the computer in air-conditioned comfort and worked on our publication. Two weeks until presstime! Shiver me timbers!

WORKING TITLE

Did I mention that the Capt is an artist, as well as a musician and master marine carpenter-in-training?

This morning he came up with a logo for our project boat, the Green Flash. It's been decided the hull will be a light blue-green (cooler in the tropics than its present black), and the logo will appear on the stern and maybe port and starboard.



The Flash will probably not resemble any other Morgans around by the time he's finished her redesign; for one thing, he's thinking of putting on a pilothouse after our experience this year slogging from La Paz to Puerto Vallarta. When the autopilot went kaputz he had to steer for two days straight in the rain and cold, while huge waves battered him and flying squids landed on his neck (well, only one squid, but that was enough). Besides, it was lonely out there in the cockpit since I wasn't about to join him in that weather. I just passed him a cup of tea now and then and staggered back to the berth. Getting that wheel under a roof is the best idea he's had yet.

Yesterday he bought a "home-built" trailer from somebody who had brought it from Florida, with a big black plywood box on it, which will hold all his tools and materials. This morning our friend from the Ranchitos will be here to help him load everything into the trailer and cart it away to the worksite. We'll get our patio back, and I'll be able to walk into the laundry room without stumbling on two-by-fours.

Now that's something to look forward to!

IT'S OFFICIAL: ZORRA'S A MOTHER

It seems only a few months ago our favorite feral feline, named Zorra for her mask, was a month-old kitten. She and her brother Felipe were all that remained of one of Mamacita's last litters before I managed to get Mama neutered. Felipe, a big handsome white tom with a thick black tail, has also been spayed. But Zorra was out catting around for a week or so, and by the time she turned up, the cages had been returned to Karyn, the Tecalai Cat Lady.

I kept promising myself I'd make arrangements for Zorra. And now look what we've got. They're irresistible babies with the characteristic family markings--lots of white with gray tabby spots. I've seen them around for more than a week, but I stayed in denial until she brought them to nurse at my back door this morning.

"Look here," she said, "this is why I need extra nourishment. Now how about those sardines you've got in the cupboard? I know they're for me, so give 'em up!"

Zorra is the tame one of the family, so friendly I can pick her up and cuddle her. She sleeps just outside the kitchen window and comes into the house at every opportunity. Not only is she unafraid of the dogs, but she seems to be trying to make friends with them.

Obviously, she's in training to be a housecat.

ARTCLOUDS OVER AMADO

Couldn't resist sharing these shots of rainclouds captured by the Capt recently over Amado, AZ, where he was waiting for the Green Flash to arrive.

AIRBORNE!

An historic moment: The Capt got this shot of the Green Flash as she was being hoisted onto the truck in Ft Lauderdale for her journey to San Carlos.

In the foreground is the truckdriver, who the Capt says was a ringer for James "Sopranos" Galdolfini.

VIVA MEXICO!

The Grito de Dolores today is a glittery affair in Mexico City's historic Zocalo.

Yesterday we were on the road coming home from Arizona, and missed much of the goings-on for the Mexican Independence Day celebrations. In Nogales' Walmart where we stopped to finish off our shopping list, Mariachis serenaded delighted customers in front of the jewelry counter. When we drove through Hermosillo*, Sonora's capital, there were police, red-white-and-green banners and flags, and a sense of excitement everywhere. Considering the street was so clean, I suspect we went through just ahead of the parade.

In Mexico City, the rival factions of President Felipe Calderon and Manuel Lopez Obrador (who competed in an election remarkably similar to the Bush/Gore debacle) each did their own ceremony of naming the heroes of the revolution and ending with the "Grito," the traditional cry of "Viva Mexico!" shouted by the leader and answered by the throngs crowded in the city's Zocalo or main plaza.
The International Herald Tribune reports there was considerable tension in the Zocalo, but no violence.

Throughout Mexico, the head of every state and local goverment traditionally issues the "Grito" at the same hour.

El Grito is a reenactment of the moment on Sept. 16, 1810 at 11 p.m. when Father Miguel Hidalgo y Castillo rang the church bell in the village of Dolores and called for revolution, which is considered the official starting point of the 11-year war pitting indigenous indians and Mestizos against the ruling class of gachupines, or Spaniards and criollos, the first generation of Spaniards born in Mexico. An overview of the revolution's beginning is at Mexonline.com. Father Hidalgo, by the way, had a scandalous side: as a compulsive gambler and wealthy landowner himself, he took the Spanish government's takeover of his holdings personally. It's said that he eventually regretted the bloodbath he started, though no doubt his Spanish captors could have gotten any kind of confession out of him with their notorious torture techniques.

That same bell now hangs in a tower of the Palacio Nacional in the Zocalo, and it's rung every year for the Grito followed by a fireworks spectacular and serious partying. See Inside Mexico's feature on this celebration for more.

Several parades are scheduled for today in Guaymas (see GuaymasFolks' blog for their take on last night's festivities), and a children's parade will take place here in San Carlos, according to the community Internet forum. People will dress in 1800s indigenous dresses, giant sombreros, big fake mustaches, or at least the colors of the flag. They'll feast on traditional Mexican food like pozole and mole, washed down with cerveza, mezcal and tequila, watch fireworks and dance while being sprayed with foam, spaghetti string and confetti. It could be a rowdy night.

*LATE NEWS FLASH: Sonora Governor Eduardo Bours was scheduled to give the Grito in Hermosillo last night, but Thursday afternoon he fell off his horse while riding at one of his country estates and broke four ribs and his shoulder blade on the left side. It was announced that the mayor of Hermisillo would take over the ceremonial duties, but Bours made a surprise appearance, looking splendid in suit and pink tie over his elastic bandages, and shouted "Viva Mexico!" That had to hurt, but it probably boosted his popularity by several points. Que macho!

BLINGBOAT?

If you thought cigarette boats and jetskis were the bane of the peaceful anchorage, wait'll one of these shows up in your local waters. Featured in the NY Times today, it's the low-rider-inspired Correct Craft ski boat by Chicago artist Dzine. In only 18 feet, he has crammed 22 speakers, nine TV screens, eight amps, a laser light show and a smoke machine. Ain't we got fun?!

They're gonna love this boat in Mexico. How long before Carlos Slim, Mexico's pride and the world's richest man, buys one of these in every color for his niños and nietos? (And San Carlos is one of his favorite playgrounds, we hear.)

To paraphrase on of the Capt's favorite sayings, "Now you know why they don't let us have torpedoes in Mexico."

GALLEYS, PART DEUX

The Capt belongs to an Internet forum on boat design, to feed his ever-growing interest in creating something unique out of the Green Flash, our project boat. Unique, that is, within a budget.

Today someone posted photos from an article in Gizmag, an online magazine, about a customized circular kitchen, with all the appliances built in, along with counters and storage.

The design incorporates fridge, microwave, stovetop, oven, a dishwasher (!), everything for the most up-to-date kitchen which can rotate 180 degrees to get to the utility you need, and a cover slides around the entire cylinder for rough weather.

Others on the forum chimed in with a number of objections to using this design on a boat, such as the fact that (duh!) there's nothing to hold the cook in place! Remember in Galleys 101 I mentioned most galleys are L-shaped or U-shaped so there's always something to hold onto? "Bliss" has a U-shaped galley and a belt I can hook around my waist so my hands are free to steady hot, bubbling pots on the stove. And believe me, I have used it. Of course, there's no reason a rounded counter couldn't be built to correspond with the cylinder on one side. That's where the cabinetry and more workspace would be located. Built-in cabinetry helps a hull hold its shape and strengthens it. That's why the built-in bookcases on "Arigato Jack" are such a good idea.

What cracked me up was that in the illustration, the lady loading the dishwasher didn't look like much of a sailor, in her high heels, black stockings and tight skirt. Maybe she's what the old salts call a "dock rat," one of those would-be cruisers whose boats never actually leave the marina.
When the outer shell is in position, the unit looks just like the Orgasmatron that Woody Allen tried out in "Sleeper!"

The poster who shared these photos didn't know the name of the manufacturer, and although I could see a faint URL imprinted on the enlarged photos, it took a while to track it down to GizMag, and from there to CC Concepts, which offers an extensive photo gallery. The cylindrical kitchen (which wasn't designed for a boat after all, but for small living spaces), is just one of quite a few fascinating inventions in varying stages of availability touted on GizMag's website.

We're in Arizona for a couple of days, staying in our disabled but still comfortable RV, and the Capt had a brilliant idea this morning. Since the RV park already has shower facilities, why not pull out the fiberglass shower and tub on the RV, load it in the Capt's pickup, take it home and install it on the Flash?

Other than its color, that pukey Harvest Gold that was the rage in the 70s, it's perfect! There's already a bathtub on the Flash, but we've been ambivalent about keeping it. It takes up an awful lot of space, but we love tub baths, but how often are we going to use it, but wouldn't it be lovely to have a good soak now and then? Of course, in a marina there's (usually) plenty of water, and at sea we can use our watermaker.

HAZARDS OF MEXICAN BANKING

If you live in Mexico and need a bank account here, Working Gringa, whose website is called Yucatan Living, has posted a detailed blog on what's required, what to watch out for and what to be prepared for. They've been through it all, from the two hours it takes to start the account, to the harrowing consequences of bouncing a check, to attempting unsuccessfully to close an account. There were, at last count, 17 replies to her blog that provided even more information. The consensus about opening an account in a Mexican bank was 'don't go there unless you have to.'

ALONG CAME A SPIDER...

Just back from Spanish class, I was invited by the Capt to grab my camera to shoot something interesting. Then he lifted the seat of the settee we have in front of the house (a donation toward the Green Flash's rehabilitation). There were odds and ends stashed there, the usual jumble, and in a narrow space I saw a big fuzzy black tarantula! Madre de Dios!

Of course I'm overreacting to our visitor! It's the first tarantula I've ever seen that wasn't safely confined in a cage.

I was just now posting this bit of news tonight when Sophie started barking at a food dish. Thinking she needed water I started to grab the dish when I spied inside it the biggest roach I've seen yet. The Capt will tell you I always say that.

On a rare occasions I have dispatched roaches myself, but if the Capt is nearby I consider it his job. Just as putting the toilet paper on the roll and hanging out the laundry is my job.

Ah, Mexico! Always something exciting going on...

GALLEYS 101

Our friend from In The Now brought over three books on yacht design, construction plans and improvements this morning and they jump-started my imagination and enthusiasm for the Green Flash project.

"Yacht Style" by Daniel Spurr (International Marine, paperback, McGraw Hill, PO Box 547, Blacklick, OH 43004, 1-800-262-4729, 1997) is a glossy coffeetable style photo book and several spreads showed vessels well over 100 feet, many of them motor yachts with plenty of spare space. One belonged to Bill Harrah, another won the America's Cup.

I found a couple of galley layouts I like, one of which could have been custom-designed for the Flash. Galleys come in various configurations but you'll find most of them are U-shaped or L-shaped so no matter how rough the seas are, you're never far from something you can grab onto while cooking. The galley on Bliss is U-shaped, but the bulkhead on the right side is only a half-wall with no storage or other useful built-ins. The original galley in the Flash had a U-shape at starboard next to the companionway, but both sides of the "U" contained storage and one side housed a fridge and freezer, both now gutted. We found tiny lapis blue porcelain tiles everywhere, so I think the counter must have been surfaced with them. Must have been a cleaning nightmare.

What I like in Palmyra's galley is the contrast of dark wood with expanses of white, and the shape which is not only safer for the chef but discourages crew from crowding in.

It's interesting that of all the galley layouts we saw in this book, the Capt and I both were attracted by this Pearson 37. Not the wall-to-wall carpet which they even ran UP the wall in the V-berth (!) and single porcelain sink (give me a double stainless every time). But we like the open feeling, the curves, the set-in seating on the port side facing a comfy settee at starboard, and the unique cut-out window opening into the V-berth where the only sleeping berth is located. I'm assuming the window could be closed for privacy, but this boat was promoted as a vessel for a single couple only.
The lighter colors, wraparound windows and all that counterspace are what I like in Diva's galley, which is situated to the right of the companionway steps just as the Flash's was. What I don't like are those teeny cabinets that won't hold anything! Note edge of cozy settee to the left.


What we're starting with. Note toploading fridge and freezer in foreground.

Though I've seen galleys with colorful porcelain tile counters, they're impractical when it comes to keeping the grout clean. Of the galleys shown here, Palmyra has stainless steel countertops, and Diva has speckled blue Corian (probably our best choice). Because the galley in a sailboat is below deck level, windows are set high and don't let in a lot of light, so we'll stick to light colors and light woodstains. We both like natural wood surfaces for bulkheads; Bliss came with a hideous formica patterned to look like wood in a brown you'll never find in nature. The Capt put considerable effort into covering all that formica with doorskin, wood in a super-thin sheet that can be flexed and bent easily and doesn't add a lot of weight. His work paid off in a considerably more attractive interior.

We pulled the propane cooktop and eye-level oven out of our disabled RV and plan to install them on the Flash.

And now it's time for my Spanish lesson. It's my maestra's birthday (cumpleanos) and we'll start off by singing "Las Mañanitas," my new favorite birthday song.

IT'S NOT OVER FOR EVERYONE

Aerial photo shows the collapsed retaining wall and resulting flooding at Punta de Agua. El Imparciál photo.


"El Imparciál," a Sonora daily, reported today that the aftermath of Hurricate Henriette in other nearby communities wasn't so benign.

While we in San Carlos have put Henriette behind us, at least 5000 people in the Guaymas/Empalme vicinity have had to evacuate to escape rivers, canals and at least one manmade reservoir overflowing their banks. Residents of the eastern part of Empalme, plus several surrounding ejidos (public lands) are being asked by the Mexican army and navy to relocate to shelters on higher ground, but many refuse to leave, afraid their homes will be looted of what few possessions they have.

Five minutes after midnight yesterday, a retaining wall built to restrain water stored at the Punta de Agua dam collapsed, threatening five rural communities. In Empalme more than 20,000 sandbags were used to try to hold back the waters.

Although there are neighborhoods still out of communication, so far the only deaths reported were a father and son who had tried to run a generator inside their house and had succumbed to the fumes.

My next-door neighbor and I culled through our clothes and canned food to come up with a trunkful of donations she'll drop off later today at the Tourist Center.

SHOWTIME

Here's our first attempt to upload video directly through Blogger and hey! It worked! These are from Wednesday, the first shot at various locations as Hurricane Henriette was flexing her muscles, whipping up the waves on the bluff near our house. From the deck of our boat the Capt filmed pangas towing boats from the anchorage into the marina to wait out the storm.

The second was in front of our house as the storm was dissipating and cabin fever was setting in. Caution: if loud sound tracks annoy you, turn down your volume.

NOT GREEN, NOT FLASHY, BUT HOME AT LAST

"The Green Flash" arrived a couple of hours ago, at long last. This is the project boat the Capt bought last October, which has been on the hard in Ft Lauderdale for three years. Look here for her original boatplan (scroll down to Nov. 10) and the condition we found her in (scroll to Nov. 1), appropriately enough, on Halloween.

She's a 1986 Morgan 43, formerly named "The Scarlet Lady," with a 6-foot bowsprit and a checkered history that may or may not include a couple of broken marriages, a fire and at least one sinking.

Transporting her was a saga in itself. We had looked for various carriers, from one service that would submerge a ship offshore, take her on and carry her as far as La Paz for $28K (we didn't want to pay $28K, weren't sure she'd float and didn't want to send her to La Paz) to a train (but Union Pacific isn't interested in transporting boats) to trucking her, which is what we finally decided to do. Legal constraints and logistics made it necessary to remove her from one truck at Tucson and put her on another for the trip through Mexico, at considerable additional cost. But it takes what it takes, right?

Her entire cabin has been gutted, the engine's gone, there are no bulkheads, the boom was stolen and her topsides need to be replaced. And she needs to be painted...green, of course. Probably a couple years' work (check this blog in a couple of years and you may get a good laugh.)

The Capt was grinning madly as she was settled into her new workyard in the Ranchitos. And that's good enough for me.

AFTERMATH

We awoke to a fresh, breezy morning and all the lights in the house blazing. The electricity was back on! Our neighbors, whose bedroom faces the other way, said the electric company guys were working on the transformers long before dawn.

On the VHF radio net this morning the moderator asked for reports of any damage, and only one person responded: "Well," he said, "I saw a lot of garbage blowing by." I plan to pick up the local paper later, and see how Guaymas was affected. I'm not sure where the eye of the storm passed over, but it missed us.

I walked down to the beach and discovered a motherlode of shells, all my favorites, piled on the shore. Even a rare chocolate clam. Filled my pockets and waded in the warm foam,feeling like a kid. La Palapa, a beach restaurant known locally for its Greek food, was in better shape than I expected, having read on the local bulletin yesterday that it was being battered by the waves. They'll have quite a bit of sand to shovel out, but I think they'll still be in business.

Good thing, too, I haven't tried their spanikopita yet.

We shot some video at the height of the storm. Film at 11.

HENRIETTE HURRIES OFF IN A HUFF

Hurricane Henriette seems to have passed through at this writing (4:10pm), having brought plenty of rain and a few hours of boisterous wind. We heard two loud bangs and deduced that two transformers had blown, our clue being that after the second one we no longer had electricity. Thanks to the Capt remembering to bring our Honda generator off the boat, I'm able to go online, at least long enough to update those anxiously watching the progress of the storm. I can even use the fan, a good thing since it's still blowing too hard to open the windows.

I'm also thankful we have a gas stove, that the storm arrived in early afternoon, and wasn't any stronger. The Capt estimates the winds have been 40mph, gusting to 60. We still have water, but it's probably what's stored in the tinaco on the roof, and when that's gone we may be tapping our jugs, unless they're able to repair/replace those transformers soon.

It's still too rough to go out but when we can we'll make some inquiries about Marina Seca, Marina San Carlos and Marina Real. Almost everyone we know has a boat at one of those places. At the moment the marina offices are all closed, so employees could be with their families. The Captains' Club a block from here, which just opened last week, was hosting a hurricane party, and probably has a functioning VHF radio.

At the height of the storm we stood outside and watched as great puffs of rain blew off the roofs and the wind roared through our neighborhood. There was no thunder or lightning, but I heard a rumble just now. The low-lying parking area in front of our duplex flooded as it always does, and Chica had a wonderful time splashing and racing around, water up to her belly, making her own waves.

HENRIETTE & FELIX UPDATES

CNN claims this flooding was in La Ceiba, but La Gringa says Aruba. Quien sabe?

I've received two emails and a phone call from absentee friends with boats or houses here, asking about conditions. So far, it hasn't been too rough; in fact we've had heavier rain that wasn't associated with any hurricanes this summer. The surf is sending up plumes about 12 feet high. I wouldn't want to be living in one of the much-touted condos on the beach right now, but even they will probably be all right.

Marina Seca, in charge of bringing our project boat, "The Green Flash" south from Tucson, told us they're holding off until Hurricane Henriette has passed.

La Gringa reports that CNN and the Weather Channel showed video from Aruba, where Felix did hit hard, and said the location was La Ceiba. But in La Ceiba, Felix was "a non-event." Now she can send her inlaws home.

HENRIETTE VS THE GREEN FLASH

All this drama, just yards from my front door!

And they're nearing the homestretch now, as the crowds hold their breath in excitement. Who'll cross the finish line first? Hurricane Henriette is due (by some reports) to arrive in San Carlos at 2pm while The Green Flash is somewhere on Hwy. 15 headed our way and due at any moment but running on Mexico time.

I'm assuming the truck driver knows enough not to try to deliver a boat in the middle of a hurricane. But the suspense is maddening, so I take my camera and go out to shoot some surf pix. It's raining just a little, feels delicious so I don't mind being pelted while I shoot. Nineteen-foot waves are expected, and the surf can fly twice that high, so the storm could produce some 40-foot plumes.

WHOLE LOT OF SPECULATING GOING ON...

Weather Underground's guesstimate is that Henriette will hit Empalme Thursday morning--not a good sign since Empalme is at sea level, and a crucial road between Empalme and Guaymas crosses a wide estuary. But then, is there any GOOD place for a hurricane to hit?
Google satellite map of Empalme, at right, and part of Guaymas.

Henriette is taking her sweet time getting here. Or maybe it's just that the weatherpeople jumped the gun; this morning we saw a prediction that she'd be here by nightfall, and this afternoon Weather Underground was predicting 8pm Wednesday. The Capt decided to move the Morgan into a slip--the last 30-foot slip available--and spent a couple of hours getting her battened down. We have battery-powered lights and candles, ten gallons of drinking water and ten gallons of tapwater.

There's a lot of speculation about where Henriette will make landfall on the mainland coast. She's already brought 15-foot waves to San Jose del Cabo in Baja, and Weather Underground's hurricane watch website is predicting she's on a course for Empalme, just the other side of Guaymas. A Mexican website is betting on a direct hit at San Carlos. At this point it's all speculation.

Meanwhile, just to make it all more interesting, the "Green Flash" has crossed the Mexican border at Nogales and is on its way south on the Marina Seca truck. Company rules require the driver to stop at sundown, so we're guessing he and the boat are in Hermosillo now. They arrive tomorrow morning. Today the Capt met with the landowner in the Ranchitos, where we will be setting her up, and they selected a spot for her new workyard. More battening down will be in order then.

Winds have picked up just enough to make going outside, especially now after sundown, pleasantly cool.

I asked two Mexicans today if they're concerned about Henriette. Irma at the water store said "I love hurricanes," kissing the tips of her fingers with a Latin flourish. And yet she was a 14-year-old volunteer in the aftermath of Liza in La Paz (1976), washing the bodies of the dead which she insists numbered in the thousands. She says human error caused the devastation in La Paz: a reservoir built of inferior materials on top of a mountain over the town ruptured and washed away entire neighborhoods built on the slopes. Hiram at Barracuda Bob's said "This is the only way we're going to get any rain, and we need rain." Of course, Hiram is going to Mazatlan on vacation tomorrow, so he won't even be around. If he were here his job would be to help rescue any boats in the anchorage that get in trouble during the storm.

La Gringa in La Ceiba, Honduras, who waited out Hurricane Felix today, saw nothing but intermittent rain, and everyone she's in touch with in her vicinity reports the same. Few even reported power outages or loss of Internet access. Said one expat in Cayos Cochinos."...here I sit all boarded up, packed up and battened down -- and it appears that I just did a hard two days' work for naught!"

READY OR NOT: HERE COMES HENRIETTE

Here's NOAA's map for Henriette's path as of this morning. We appear to be right in the middle of it. I'm trying to shake off that "deer in the headlights" feeling and start preparations. The Capt is listening to the morning net to get more up-to-date details. We're heading out to the Morgan to take down the headsail and check the moorings.

Tune in for further developments...

HURRICANES TO THE RIGHT, HURRICANES TO THE LEFT

Here comes Henriette

Following Felix
A friend in Oregon asked me if I felt either of the earthquakes in the Sea of Cortez today, but they were too far away. But meanwhile, there are hurricanes to keep an eye on.

The online maps make Mexico look like it's about to be squeezed by a humungous hurricane hug.

Fred on "Sojourn" reports the weather daily on the VHF radio net, and he says the one most likely to affect us is Henriette, which is rolling in from the south, due to hit La Paz Wednesday and then head up the Sea of Cortez.

And in Ceibas, Honduras fellow blogger La Gringa is watching Felix roar in from the southeast along the eastern coast of Mexico. This one isn't as strong as Dean was...yet...but it looks like it's heading straight for Honduras. This National Hurricane Center map shows a possible scenario through Friday.

La Gringa has noticed that when she blogs about an oncoming hurricane, it always fizzles out, so I thought I'd give that strategy a try. What do we have to lose?

CYBERHOUSEKEEPING

The Mac Mini, smaller than a breadbox

Yesterday was a giant stomach-churning roller coaster: at the peak there was great jubilation when the Capt finally arrived home from Ft Lauderdale, a few days ahead of the "Green Flash" which will arrive by truck on Thursday. At the bottom there was serious tribulation when my computer system crashed in the midst of transferring crucial data from the old cranky laptop to the new Mac Mini he brought me.

Duh...Any 12-year-old could tell me I should have backed up the most important files before doing the transfer. Let this be a lesson to us all.

We dodged the bullet this time--this morning the laptop booted up fine and we transferred the data, holding our breath in fear that it would go south on us again. Did it just overheat? We may never know.

I'm now happily "moving in" my favorite applications, including InDesign, GoLive, Ultralingua (best Spanish/English dictionary I've found by far), iTunes (currently rocking my world with "Memphis Tennessee" by Sandy Bull), PhotoShop... Next I'll be exploring iLife, a collection of iPhoto, iMovie and iDVD plus something new called iWeb which looks at first glance to be an easy way to build websites.. Then there's iWork, the new incarnation of Appleworks word processing combined with Pages, which may turn out to be superior to InDesign for page design. We'll see...

The mini is a square box, smaller in width and length than my hand and about 2" tall. With my big screen and a wave keyboard that lets me type really fast, voila! the system of my dreams.