Coffee Break

Another day, another rehearsal. Our friend and neighbor Gary should be here any time now with his harmonicas, to go over our songs one more time before we go public tomorrow at the Captain's Club. We've worked hard enough at them now that I'm not so nervous anymore, just looking forward to getting on with it.

Yesterday I took a break and drove to Guaymas to have coffee with Brenda, a fellow blogger, and Ale, another blogger I became aware of only last week when she commented on my blog. We met at the Sky Cafe, only a block from Lolita's house, where Brenda and I have conversational Spanish classes once a week. Inside it's just a little coffee bar with yummy-looking cakes and desserts in the display case, but outside it's a spacious patio with lots of tables, decorated with plastic greenery. Very clean and well-maintained, with a handsome young fellow spiffily outfitted in a mint-green uniform in charge. We all had iced cappuccino frappés, and settled down to get acquainted.

It was a very pleasant place to sit in the cool of the evening, with little girls dressed like princesses passing by on their way to confirmation ceremonies at the church across the street, and a band from a school a block away, rehearsing one of their numbers as they marched past. All I could object to was the half-dozen bees that were attracted to my frappé and began crawling into it before I had finished it, only to drown in the foam. Oh, well...

Ale and her husband are both involved in the bienes raices (real estate) industry, helping people buy previously foreclosed homes. We all had a good laugh when I confessed I thought bienes raices meant "good rates." Duh! She only recently moved here from Hermosillo and misses a great deal about that city, including many close family members. She said there are 54 people in her extended family, every one of whom plays a musical instrument. I was so envious! Imagine what their family get-togethers are like. Ale is also a poet, and her blog offers wonderful images and plenty of challenges, being written in Spanish.

Then back home for another couple of hours of rehearsal.

OK, here it is, the sound track of my life...

Just bring my computer to my wake, bookmark these songs on iTunes and play them in order. Then scatter my ashes on the Sea of Cortez and have some chocolate.

• Opening Credits: Por Una Cabeza, The Tango Project
• Awakening (how my day begins), Come Here Boy, Imogen Heap
• First Day of Classes or Work: The Frying Pan, John Prine
• Graduation: Beginning Tomorrow, Joy of Cooking
• The Sixties: Illegal Smile, John Prine
• Birth of My Son: Don't Stop (Thinkin' About Tomorrow), Fleetwood Mac
• Kissing Scene: Hesitation Blues, Janis Joplin
• Fight Scene: Give Me One Reason, Tracy Chapman
• Wedding: Maybe This Time (from "Cabaret")
• Breaking Point: Desahogo, Ana Gabriel
• First Boat: O Barquinho, Laurindo Almeida
• My Big Blowout: Drunken Sailor, Eileen Quinn
• Mental Shock: Here's That Rainy Day, Astrid Gilberto
• Song for Driving: Mercury Blues, Steve Miller
• Reconciliation: Por Tu Maldito Amor, Ana Gabriel
• Leaving the US: They All Went to Mexico, Willie Nelson
• Paying Dues: How Do You Keep the Music Playing, Susanna McCorkle
• Moment of Final Triumph: Sail on Sailor, The Beach Boys
• Flashback: Contigo Aprendi, Los Guacamayos
• Final Battle: Stand By Me
• Death Scene: Wings of a Dove, Rhiannon
• Funeral Scene: Please Don't Bury Me, John Prine
• Final Credits: Time Is On My Side, Irma Thomas

Felicidades, Ann!

Congratulations to Ann in Zihuatanejo, who just blogged her wedding! I've really looking forward to seeing her wedding photos. Que boda bellisima!

Going Around the Blogworld: Soundtrack of Your Life

What if you made a movie of your life? What would the soundtrack sound like?

A fellow blogger (Tinta de Mi Voz) and new Guaymas resident Ale passed this on, and it looks like fun. You can work it out randomly as follows. She wrote her instructions in Spanish and I added the English.

1. Abre la biblioteca de tu reproductor de audio predilecto (Open your library of songs, such as Itunes)
2. Aplica la modalidad Shuffle o Aleatorio (Select Random play mode)
3. Presiona Play (Press Play)
4. Por cada pregunta, responde con la canción que se escuche (For each question, respond with the song you're listening to)
5. Cuando vayas a responder la siguiente pregunta, presiona el boton Next (When you go to respond to the next question, press Next)

THE SCENES
• Opening Credits
• Awakening (how your day begins)
• First Day of Classes or Work
• Kissing Scene
• Fight Scene
• Breaking Point
• Graduation
• My Big Blowout
• Mental Shock
• Song for Driving
• Reconciliation
• Flashback
• Wedding
• Birth of My Child
• Paying Dues
• Moment of Final Triumph
• Final Battle
• Death Scene
• Funeral Scene
• Final Credits

I hope it's not cheating, but I might instead pick my own tunes. We'll see...

And So To Bed

Confession time: I'm becoming a siesta junkie. Siesta is a national pasttime here in Mexico, perfectly understandable when the temps hit the hundreds. But it's not even hot yet here in San Carlos, and I'm flopping down for at least a couple of siestas a day. It doesn't help that my workstation is four feet from my bed, a vast, king-size nirvana of lollygagging pleasure.

I land there after I've made a particularly challenging phone call. After I've had a disappointing phone call. After lunch. When the Capt. lands there. When I'm back from a long walk. When I get depressed, lonely or confused. When I have to get organized, make a list. I tell myself I need to sort out my thoughts, but the fact is that I'm asleep within moments of hitting the pillow. Zzzzzzz.

I guess I'd be better off with a murphy bed that must be pulled out of the wall and made up especially for sleeping, only to vanish when we're up in the morning. I want to be self-motivated. I want to mark projects off my list with a flourish, get busy with Spanish lessons, singing practice, customer contacts, sewing a sundress, painting the walls, etc., but it's all so overwhelming.

Meanwhile the Capt is out at his workyard in the Ranchitos, doing heavy lifting and working hard on the "Green Flash," making his dream come true. He comes home hot, tired, dirty and I feel guilty. Such a slug! Qué granuja! (a Spanish phrase for the day).

Maybe I'll go take a multivitamin, wash it down with a cup of industrial-strength coffee.

Here are two horoscopes for me today. Maybe they're trying to tell me something. Or maybe they're just explaining my dream state.
• You have moments of lucid dreaming while you are fully awake today and you can see your future by simply painting a mental picture of it. Your optimism can be quite refreshing as long as you don't go overboard, for others will quickly grow bored of your unrealistic fantasies if you turn into a Pollyanna. Some thoughts are better kept to yourself.

• You are willing to follow up on any crazy ideas that pop into your head today -- so be prepared to lose focus more than once as you dream up new ways to solve problems or tackle challenges.

"Whether you think you can, or think you can't, either way...you are right." Henry Ford

Maybe it's all that restful blue...

Sailing Across the Atlantic - 23 day compilation

Here I am on the western coast of mainland Mexico, where everybody talks about crossing the Pacific, and I'd rather do the Atlantic! Oh, the perversity of life.

What's it like crossing the Atlantic? This was the experience of the S/V "Bumfuzzle"...I have to say, we saw waves this big coming up the Mexican coast this year.

Outside the (Sand) Box

Very rarely do the Capt and I fantasize aloud about taking our sailboat beyond Mexico. For one thing, we probably wouldn't try to take "Bliss" much farther than we have, because she is just too limited in water and fuel storage, space and speed. The "Green Flash" will someday fit the bill, but it's years away from being ready to sail.

But now and then I get emails from cruisers I know who have "jumped the puddle" to the Marquesas and South Pacific, or passed through the Panama Canal to explore the Caribbean. It all seems more doable when I read their day-to-day exploits.

And then this morning I came across a website about worldwide sailing: Sailors for Sailors which doesn't just push the envelope, but rips it wide open. Want to read about sailing in Portugal? Greece? How about Argentina? Or getting off the beaten path in the East Frisian Islands (wherever THAT is!) I see these reports and I feel like I'm still sitting in the sandbox with my little plastic pail.

One place I'd like to sail THIS MINUTE is Japan, to track down Maria, who needs some serious cheering up, and has switched off her comments so nobody can talk to her, and says next she'll cut off her blog. So the hundreds of us who follow her daily can wonder what happened to her.

I remember a really good TV series that ended abruptly like that, and I never forgave them.

Look, Ma, No Hands!

Sue emailed me and pointed out the little clock icon on the camera, and that's the timer! I get a choice of 2 seconds or 12 seconds. OK, I look a little smug. Sorry about that. And thanks, Sue.

Getting Acquainted

More experiments with my new Olympus. I discovered that if I shoot into the mirror and look into the mirror, the photo comes out as though I'm gazing off at the spider on the ceiling or something. Hmmmm. Got to learn to use my timer like Maria. I didn't tell it to, but the camera automatically used the flash, and therefore only yielded about five pictures before running out of memory.

My friend Sue in OR, who inspired me to get this camera, sent me two long emails about what she's discovered on hers. Everything from making movielets to using the onscreen menu to creating a calendar, complete with the proper dates. Only since the camera was made in Malaysia or someplace, the calendar is set up with Sunday on the right column instead of the left. It's a cultural thing, Sue explains. She hasn't used the timer yet either, she confesses.

Speaking of Sue and OR, here's a photo she shot very recently in Astoria, of an old cannery. That looks just like snow, by the way, in the foreground. But Sue informs me that's the Columbia River, NOT frozen over, just moving right along.

And speaking of cameras, here's a tidbit from Cousin Gene:
In George Washington's days, there were no cameras. One's image was either sculpted or painted. Some paintings of George Washington showed him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back while others showed both legs and both arms. Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted. Arms and legs are "limbs," therefore painting them would cost the buyer more. Hence the expression, "Okay, but it'll cost you an arm and a leg." I can relate to that, given how hard it is to draw hands. And no, I haven't checked this out on Snopes.

Beach Walk, Anyone?

Creepout Du Jour: I can always count on my cousin Gene in Texas to send me the weirdest stuff. Here's a family of rattlers discovered on Mother's Day at Matagorda Beach (a remote beach on the Texas coast, only accessible by 4x4's). When they celebrate Mother's Day, the whole clan shows up!

Notes From My Cube

The Capt and Gary work out a song while Sofia gives the Capt a toe bath. Gary has a harmonica rack under his chin
•••

My Horoscope: "Today is perfect for staying cloistered away at home or in your cube and just taking care of personal business -- as much as possible, anyway. Sometimes it's better to just turtle up and let others go their own way."

My CUBE? Now there's a claustrophobic thought.

Yesterday a gray cloud meandered over the Tetas, bringing a delicious cool breeze that lasted on into the night, and this morning it's an almost chilly 76 degrees. I'm feeling energized, like I might do something mad and impetuous, maybe jump on my bike and ride down to the malecon. I bought a heavy-duty bike from Isabelle the French boatminder last year, just before she flew to Europe to crew with a Belgian whose wife didn't want to make the Atlantic crossing. I hear when the wife caught sight of the winsome, willowy Isabelle she changed her mind, and Isabelle was fired. Merde!

Anyway, the bike hasn't gotten near the attention it deserves, and after dusting it off and pumping air in the tires I left it standing next to the front door as a reproach when I walk out with car keys in hand.

I've been studying my new digital camera, an Olympus SP-550OUZ, which has an 18x optical zoom and a 28mm wide frame, super macro mode, image stabilizer for these feeble, shaky old hands, plus other bells and whistles whose functions I'm only beginning to guess at. My friend Sue in OR has one just like it and has been sending me amazing photos, which inspired me to upgrade so I can shoot dolphins and whales from a bouncing boat, flying birds and puppy wrestling matches. I can shoot in automatic mode, or I can adjust aperture and shutter speeds. I can make little movies, as long as I have plenty of AA batteries on hand. I do wish, though, that the manual wasn't written in techspeak. I feel like I need a translater.

Anyway, my goal this morning is to upload a photo. Wish me luck, folks.

Yesterday Gary started working on Michael Franke's song, "Eggplant," and last night he taught it to the Capt. It's about a fellow whose Italian girlfriend with an unpronounceable last name cooks eggplant 19 different ways ("...sometimes I just have it raw, with mayonnaise.") Our repertoire is not the usual collection of love songs. We also do, for instance, Michael Franke's rather racy "Popscicle Toes," Billie Holliday's "God Bless the Child," the Beach Boys' "Sail On Sailor," Mose Allison's "Your Mind is On Vacation and Your Mouth is Working Overtime," Tom Waits' "Temptation" and "They All Went to Mexico," which Santana wrote for Willie Nelson. Lately the guys have been transposing a few songs that we've been doing in keys too high for my voice, and they're much more comfortable to sing now.

Mike at the Captain's Club says he has a new PA system, which might help alleviate his dismal acoustics and make it possible for us to perform there without being drowned out by conversation bouncing off the adobe walls. I can picture a nice quiet Sunday afternoon, with only a few customers, when we could have time to tweak the system, indulge ourselves in a few false starts and get warmed up.

Meanwhile, on the Spanish Front, I've been delving again into conjunctions, such as Pretérito Imperfecto and Pretérito Imperfecto de Indicativo. The first is used for actions in the past but during an unfinished time period, such as "He has traveled to four countries this year." Then I could dive into pluscuamperfecto de subjuctivo (try to say that fast three times), preterito anterior, potencial compuesto... My 501 Spanish Verbs book lists 14 different conjunctions for most verbs. Today I found Learn Spanish, a free website, that explains in English what the various conjunctions are used for, and here's what they say: Verbs "can become very complicated, even Spanish people can have difficulty with them, for this reason we have not included some of the subjunctive forms." I'd just stick with present tense and let my Mexican friends laugh, but I want to understand them, too, so I guess I'll "turtle up" with my books and keep at it.

Peering into the Abyss

What does a one-trick pony do, if and when she can no longer do that trick?

Three of my friends have the blues today, for fairly good reasons, what a shrink once referred to as "situational depression" 15 years ago when he wrote out an antidepressant prescription for me. I've peered into the abyss a few times myself lately, so I wouldn't presume to try to Pollyanna anyone out of it. But rather than blithely recommending a good dose of Zoloft, I started thinking what I would recommend for myself next time I begin feeling abysmal.

When I feel depressed, I can always trace it to boredom. When I'm fully engaged in what I'm doing, I can scoff at the blues. But "downtime" can bring me down every time, unless I'm just recharging the batteries before diving back into something that demands my full, enthusiastic attention. One of the "somethings" that works for me is singing: learning new songs, working them out with musicians or online Karaoke backup, practicing and putting my own style into songs, preparing for performance, even those sweaty, breathless moments just before I go onstage. So the burning question is, why don't I practice more often? Duh, maybe I'd even sound better. And it's certainly not boring.

Last Saturday our landlord came over and he, the Capt and our friend Gary met at Gary's house, two doors down, for a jam session. I stayed away, keeping myself busy with domestic chores, hoping at some point they'd be ready for some vocalizing. Sure enough, the Capt came and collected me, I grabbed my lyrics file and dashed over, hoping to look nonchalant but very pleased to be asked. We spent the rest of the afternoon and on into the night doing songs, some with great success, some not so great, some laughable. When Daniel came up with a song I didn't know, I'd scramble back to our house, Google the lyrics, print them out and rush back with them so we could try them out. The goal of the day was definitely not perfection, but pleasure, and I sincerely hope the guys had as much fun as I did.

Singing with my own three-man band! It was a thrill I may never experience again, who knows? But I can't always expect such high points (it would probably be exhausting if they came around too often). All I can do is try to be prepared for them when they come, so I have something to contribute. Maybe that's what keeps me away from the edge of the abyss: feeling I might still have something to contribute. And maybe that's what the abyss is for, so I remember to feel grateful for the good times.

Yesterday after a session with my teacher Lolita and came away feeling disgusted about the way my voice sounded: embarrassingly croaky, offkey, weak, like a little old lady. Ready to give up. I think it might have something to do with sleeping in air conditioning, as we have been doing the last couple of nights. It might even be the pulmonary fibrosis rearing its ugly head again. I'm reminded there will come a day when I won't be able to sing anymore. So I'm thinking I'd better start examining what else can spark my interest and keep my motor humming. I've been trying harder to keep my physical space clear because I know clutter brings me down and confuses me. And I'm clearing the clutter from my brain with twice-a-week yoga classes. Out of the corner of my eye I see on my computer desktop the novel I started--what?--FOUR years ago? And the art materials I dragged onto the boat, only using them once to do a few studies of Chica and my feet (of all things). Under my bed is a box of thousands of beads, and I know darn well I brought them here for a reason. As for the fabrics, sewing, crochet and knitting stuff I accumulated, I won't even go there. Maybe later.

Speaking of situational depression, one way I gained some perspective was reading a couple of novels about women stuck in some really severe situations: "Snow Flower and the Secret Fan" (footbinding, arranged marriages, war, epidemic) and "Brick Lane" (poverty, arranged marriage, debt). These women adapted to conditions I wouldn't last in for five minutes.

In "Galapagos" Kurt Vonnegut wrote that we'd all be better off, i.e. happier, if we evolved into seals, with so much less going on in the brain. Ah, yes, the simple life. If only we could just adapt, be proud of our bound feet, grateful for limited options that keep us on the straight and narrow, know our place. Some do, you know.

You Could Just Sail Away...

"Sailaway" is an inspiring blog about sailing a 25-foot boat from Canada to Cuba
•••

One of the most frequent comments I get on this blog is "I can't wait to retire and get a boat and do what you're doing."

Often on our cruises south it has seemed to me that we have one of the smallest, oldest, funkiest boat in the seaway. It's a little like driving a compact Chevy beater (at 33', almost 40 years old) when your friends all have Cadillacs (40 feet and up, many less than 20 years old). I confess to an occasional case of "boat envy." But S.V. "Bliss" does have quite a number of conveniences, and sometimes they even work: a watermaker, wind generator, solar panels, on-demand water heater, washdown pump, icemaker (though not a fridge anymore), ham radio, GPS, radar, digital chart system, self-steering, and lots of other whizbangs the Capt knows more about than I. They didn't come with the boat, but have been added gradually over the last dozen years.

But today I'm humbled by the discovery of AfterBlue, a 25' sailboat lacking in just about all the abovementioned accoutrements, that two young Canadians cruised from Lake Ontario to Cuba and back, an 11-month voyage they still describe as "the best thing we ever did." They're several decades younger than we are, which may explain their adaptability to discomfort and their willingness to take on crazy challenges, but even so it's an awesome feat. Anyone who ever said they'd love to go cruising but have to wait until they retire so they can buy the Cadillac equivalent of a vessel might change their minds after seeing Sailaway.

Sardine Rush Hour

If you worked in China, you could be commuting to work every day by being STUFFED into a train car by white-gloved attendants who look a little like airline pilots. What's amazing is how calm they are about it all, just a little murmuring here and there. Try this in New York!

Being a bit claustrophobic, I cringe at the idea of wriggling through dark confined underground passages, being locked in a tiny closet or car trunk, or humongous crowds closing in on me. You'll never see me at another rock concert.

Thanks, Cousin Gene, for reminding me how good life is by showing me how bad it can get.

Those Huichols Know How to Party

Photos: Huichol festival is celebrated with blowing of conches, dancing, drumming, elders in vibrantly decorated costume and burning of incense

I found a Mexican newspaper website that shows news videos in Spanish. OK, I know, I can watch Mexican news on TV, but the online version allows me to replay as often as I like. El Diario has a video feature on the Huichol Indians, and the first time I listened to the voice-over I couldn't make out more than a couple of words, but after seeing it three times I can tell you it's a feature about a specific festival, with a discussion of the Huichols' traditional costume and their festivals (peyote, corn, spring)... This looks to me like a good way to start working on the biggest challenge I face in learning Spanish: understanding spoken conversation.

Also about Spanish: I'm using three free Spanish learning websites, don Quijote and Coffee Break Spanish. Don Quijote is strong on grammar while Coffee Break is good for verbal skills. I joined up with the beta version of palabea.net, too, but their website is buggy (my server kept crashing). If I succeed with it, I can have Spanish penpals, help someone learn English while he/she helps me with my Spanish, participate in a virtual classroom, and lots more.

And for live, face-to-face lessons, there's always Lolita!

Our friend Gary, who's staying a couple of doors away for the month, has been coming over and practicing music with the Capt, inviting me to sing a few songs with them. We're working on a Willie Nelson song written by Carlos Santana, "They All Went to Mexico," among others.

We've taught Chica to catch a tossed ball in midair. She is now a ball fanatic, more interested in her ball collection that eating. When I'm washing dishes I feel a little wet bump on the back of my leg, and it's Chica, ball in jaws, letting me know she's ready for me to toss for her. Again.

We've shipped out quite a lot of Collector's Guides, with more going out every day. When the last box is gone, we'll start work on the edition for 2009, coming out in October.

I joined a yoga class and found I can still do many of the poses after more than a dozen years. The balancing ones are a challenge but I'll be steady as a rock in a month.

All this doesn't sound like it would take two weeks, but there it is. This is Mexico, after all. For two days we didn't have internet service, and then I got a stomach bug and stayed in bed half the day. And so it goes...

One of those eerie coincidences?

I've been reading Monica Ali's "Brick Lane" about a Bangladeshi woman, in an arranged marriage, living in London. Burying my nose in it, is a better description; I had a hard time putting it down over the past couple of days. Finally decided to take a break and switch media this evening. Hmmm, wonder what's come up on the movie trailers in the three months I was at sea? I love movie trailers, and I've found Apple does a nice job of them!

And what do I find, but a trailer for the upcoming release June 9 of "Brick Lane" based on the novel by Monica Ali!

Thanks, Nancy, for the book! It's everything you said, and more.

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

The Beach Club, about 100 yards from our house, put on a brief show of fireworks Saturday night, easily viewed from our bedroom window. One of those little weekend perks of the neighborhood, along with live music into the wee hours from there or Tequila's, a block away. The pirotecnias may have been in celebration of a wedding, or they could be connected to Cinco de Mayo Weekend.

In the States, especially California, Cinco de Mayo is an ethnic holidays like St Patrick's Day, Oktoberfest and Chinese New Year. Folklorico dancing in colorful garb, Mexican food washed down with mucho cerveza to the beat of mariachi music, a nostalgic day for those of Mexican heritage. Here in Mexico, it's more significant in Puebla and vicinity than elsewhere, because it marks the Battle of Puebla in 1862, when French forces were defeated. The hero of the hour was General Ignacio Zaragosa Seguin, and many Mexican cities named a street after him.

Today I finally learned how Mexico became involved in not one but two struggles for independence from foreign powers. In 1821 they achieved independence from Spain, but in order to establish a new country they borrowed mucho dinero from England, France and even Spain. Loan payments soon threatened to overwhelm their meager coffers, so Mexico's first president, Benito Juarez, declared a two-year moratorium on payments in 1861. "Just give us a breather," Beni said, in effect. "No dice," was the response.

All three creditors sent fleets to Mexico in a massive shakedown, and a Mexican government representative rushed to meet them at the shore, offering warrants in lieu of cash. England and Spain decided to accept the warrants. But Napoleon, itching for a fight and eager to finish what was begun with the Guerra de Pasteles* in 1838, sent 6,000 French troops toward Mexico City, passing through Puebla where they were whupped by the patriotic ragtag Mexican army of 4,000 on May 5.

Unfortunately, the French went on three days later to capture Puebla, then took Mexico City and installed Maximillian in 1864 with the support of Mexico's Conservative Party, founded by the wealthiest landowners and the Church.

In 1867 Max was deposed and executed, Mexico took back their country from the French and restored Benito Juarez to the presidency.

Imagine being a conscript in the French Foreign Legion, dressed in those ludicrous red balloon pants, being ordered to kill Mexicans because they fell behind on their debts. Sacre bleu!

To celebrate Cinco de Mayo, I plan to make the national dish most popular on this occasion: mole poblano (not from scratch, there are mole sauces on the market that will do the job). And go spend an hour singing with my maestra, Lolita. And pay some bills, with a prayer of thanks that I don't have the modern equivalent of the French Foreign Legion after me.

"Debt: A trap which a man sets and baits himself and then deliberately gets into." Josh Billings

The Guerra de Pasteles took place in 1838 after a French pastry shop owner in Mexico City complained to his government that during four days of civil disorder in the city in 1828, his shop and its contents were destroyed. Ten years later the French presented a bill for $600,000 pesos in damages to the Mexican government, and Mexico was unable to pay. So the French laid seige to all the eastern ports of Mexico, including Vera Cruz. Finally, in March 1839 England stepped in and negotiated an agreement whereby Mexico paid the $600,000 pesos.

Musical Moorings

We're home in San Carlos, and beginning to catch up on our sleep. In the four days coming up the coast from Mazatlan, we slept no more than three hours at a time. Southerlies helped us move right along, getting five and six knots. Then the last day the winds shifted to northerlies so we had big waves coming across the bow. I'd lie in the berth when I wasn't on watch, feeling as though malicious invisible hands were jerking me from side to side. Sooooo glad to set foot on land!

We're anchored now, since the mooring we had rented is gone. Marina San Carlos removed most of their moorings (including ours) while we were gone. They're expanding the marina along the shore of the anchorage, and the new slips look like they'll be ready shortly. There was a big scramble for moorings after the marina took theirs out, and of the many new ones people established, some aren't approved by the Port Captain. Since San Carlos is where many boaters leave their vessels when the season's over, the marina is full and there's probably not much room in the storage yard either. We do have another marina with drydock on the other side of the Tetas, Marina Real, but it's probably filling up fast, too. It's beginning to look like a huge game of Musical Moorings. The burning question is, when does the new marina open in Guaymas, to take some of the overflow? Quien sabe? When it does, we could end up there.

We met a singlehander at the anchorage in Mazatlan who says he thinks the heyday of sailing in Mexico is fading fast because the marinas charge so much that only the wealthiest yacht owners can afford them. On the west coast, just a few inexpensive anchorages are still available like the one in Maz (where all you pay is a $3 fee to dock your dinghy) . He's selling his boat and buying a house in town.

But the Capt is undeterred.

Our friend Gary, who's been in Thailand, arrived just after we got home, and we're looking forward to a month of making music with him, as he's renting the casita next door. He sings, plays guitar and harmonica. At the moment he and the Capt are comparing notes on new songs they've been working on. Last year the three of us played for a party for the local AA, and it was one of the most enjoyable gigs we've done. No shouting drunks.

Sorry, no photos tonight. But we're safe and sound, I have a new camera to try out, and I'll have some photos asap. Meanwhile, have a look at another blogger's awesome shots of Mazatlan, at Mazatlan Mexico Daily Photo.