l received an email from Sherilyn Keers, a new TSC member, who told me her husband, Mike, was single-handing a Columbia Defender 29 from San Carlos to Hawaii. Since we always need articles for the Windbreaker; Mike asked Sherilyn to keep us posted with his progress. Mike is quite the prolific writer (hope he never collaborates with Jerry Helm (sorry guys) and when the trip update reached 25 pages, 1 came to the conclusion that it would have to be printed in at least two issues of our publication. I hope you find these articles as interesting as I have.
-the Editor

Voyage Update #1

Sunday. Mav 14. PM Well, the fateful day is at hand, or it will be by the time you read this. I've been down on the boat for a week or so, and I finally finished up all the stowing and packing. Even hauled out long enough (an hour) to install my new three-blade prop from Indigo, and look over the underside. The pointy end of the boat goes in the right direction, but that's as much as I can tell you about the prop. "5ea trials" will be conducted 'underway".
    I had the marina office start the bureaucratic ball rolling Saturday (more like a paper blizzard really), and I'm scheduled to leave Tuesday 9AM...well that's the plan. The Port Captain is "supposed" to come by tomorrow Monday ) sometime and certify my boat and gear as "seaworthy", altho' he generally just rubber-stamps the despachos, and I had to list all the safety stuff on the form anyway.
    I'm cleared from here to Cabo (on the tip of the Baja peninsula) about 330 miles south, where I'm supposed to clear in and then re-clear for out of the country. Apparently San Carlos only rates a second-class Capitania, and he's unable to give me clearance for the US directly. I may stop there, but if I don't and go directly to Hawaii, I'm not sure what the consequences are. Not clearing in and out of a listed (scheduled) port on your papers can be gotten around down here by a letter describing the extraordinary circumstances that prevented you from checking in... "engine trouble" and "adverse weather" are acceptable. In this case I could mail the letter and all my paperwork back here to Marina San Carlos, and say "sorry, I forgot to stop-Oh, I remember, I had engine trouble!" I'll worry about the U.S. boys when I get there...they're not likely to turn me away.
    As many of you know Cabo is my actual jumping off point, whether I stop there or not. That's where I "turn right" and head nearly due West for the setting sun...hopefully running up on the Big Island (Hawaii) after about 2458 nautical miles according to Mr. Garmin's magic box. I'm making no projections on the passage time, but four weeks seems a safe assumption... .the leg from here to Cabo is the major variable.
    So, unless I stop in Cabo, where I should be able to email, this is it for The Dreamer until I hit Hilo in a month "mas o menos". From here on out, Sherilyn will keep you posted on my progress, as relayed to her by Dave Smith in San Diego, my radio relay.
    Thanx again for all the support and well wishes....I'm sorry I can't reply individually to the many of you who've written over the past few weeks. But crowded as it is in here, you're all with me anyway, in spirit. Adios and Aloha. Mike

Voyage Update #2

This will be the last email directly from me until I get to Hawaii- And this is getting to you from a rather roundabout route...written on the laptop aboard, then emailed from a cyber café in Cabo to Sherilyn, for her to send out. I know some of you are receiving info from other sources as well, like the C-List or Sherilyn directly. Since this Update goes out to a variety of friends and
relatives, my apologies to the non-sailors if some of it isn't clear or to all if this is old news. I have received the notes some of you sent to S, and thank you. It's just not practical to answer personally, especially with cyber cafe time running at $3 for 15 minutes. And I should apologize for the length, but hey, an adventure is as big as its telling. This is a long one!

Monday. May 22.
So, Cabo. The trip here has been an adventure in it self, not that much outstanding happened enroute. But it was a 335-mile open-water jaunt, sailed directly from San Carlos (left last Tuesday May 16 around noon) to Cabo, without benefit of any stops, pretty much straight down the center of the Sea of Cortez out of sight of land mostly. Got in at about 7:30 am Monday, May 22.
    Good shakedown of craft and crew. Nothing broke, no one hurt, and the boats tied to the dock. So, Cabo. The trip here has been an adventure.
    -not sail directly into the wind, but rather at about a theoretical 45 degree angle into it (tho' in practice it's much wore like 60 degrees), so it takes twice as far to get to any point upwind, zig-zagging (tacking) up the course (that's the part Sherilyn doesn't like). Fine for a daysail or race, but frustrating when trying to get some place for all of us.
    I didn't anchor or pull in anywhere, I was underway the whole time. But 'underway" is a stretch. My noon-to-noon distances (a treasured ceremony handed down from the dark ages of navigation and seamanship, of wooden ships and iron men) were as follows: 103 nautical miles, 16 nm, 77 nm, 47 nm, and 75 miles the final day. Even the non-sailors can appreciate that if the boat can go over 100 miles in 24 hours, 16 miles is pretty pathetic. And of that, 7 was 'motoring to charge batteries" (we both needed a boost)...so I drifted 9 miles in one 24 hour period. The term "Sailing sucks" was coined for just such times, and has become my mantra since the San Diego to La Paz delivery last year. And more enthusiasts are raising the cry all the time! It's a true sailor's 'hair shirt" I'm proud to wear.
    I was becalmed three nights in a row (and parts of the days as well), and after trying every trick and sail combination in the book, finally conceded I was dead, dropped all sail, and went to bed. I had three wonderfully restful nights of sleep, two in a row. This was appreciated after the first 103 mile day, which was obtained thru the help of a following Norther gale blowing up the first night out, with 35-40 knot winds and ten-foot breaking seas. I had to hand steer most of the night, but finally, when I was near passing out from lack of sleep I put the (electric) tillerpilot to work so I could rest a bit, but it had real trouble maintaining control. I just did not have enough experience with my homemade windvane steering yet to get it to work under those trying conditions. But the winds lasted most of the next day, and I was able to tinker and figger it out, and it's worked flawlessly under all conditions encountered so far. Just takes a bit of 'fine tuning" and sometimes a bungee cord here or there to help, but we're famous friends already. Of course it can he temperamental, and it's sensitive to sail trim and the choice of sails. But it is a head-shaking marvel to watch. It wanders a bit (they all do) but Overall it's no worse than some helmsman I know, and it certainly doesn't eat, drink or smoke. Even the complaining part is silent, it just doesn't steer right if it's unhappy.
    And lest you non-sailors (or casual day sailors) think this is some kind of sunset cruise, relaxing in the cockpit for days soaking up the rays and sipping on a cold drink....let me remind you, sailing sucks. It's a never-ending job of being handmaiden to this magic carpet to keep it flying. In a way, it's a delicate and wondrous dance between the boat and the wind and water. I'm just along to facilitate things, for the ride as it were. I've developed deep feelings towards my boat, which not only transports me 'freely" to anyplace I care to go, but keeps me alive and looks out for me as well. It's so much more than a "vehicle". It's a true Partnership, and my life depends on it!
    There were times when I would spend an hour changing sails around, bagging, stuffing, unbagging, hanking on, only to have the wind change dramatically after an hour, and have to go thru it all again. Nights with only several 15-minute catnaps. And of course leisure time, too! To ponder the magic that can move 10,000 pounds of plastic, wood, metal and a fragile human occupant silently and freely across the oceans, using no resources (fuel, etc) and leaving nothing but a quickly fading wake. Truly the 'Island of Mike."
    I'm really looking forward to the fabled Trade Winds, which are noted for more or less blowing consistently in both strength and direction. I'll get into them after a coupla-hundred miles of southwest sailing when I leave here. I've seen the winds in the Sea, particularly on this last trip, go from dead calm to 35 knots (that's a good stiff lean-into-it breeze) in an hour, and vice versa And change direction 180 degrees in minutes as well.
    After beating into four-foot head seas in 18 knots all day yesterday, in a frustrating attempt to round Cabo los Frailes (Cape of the Friars), the eastern-most point of land on Baja, I was ready for the nightly calm, which has been incredible in its suddenness-just like a switch being thrown. After only minutes it spring up at about 12 knots from the completely opposite direction, which last night was welcome, as it pushed me most of the night the final 35 miles.
Most of it. It did die out before dawn, and I motored in the last coupla hours, the longest I've run my little motor.
    And speaking of that, for you A4 owners, the new 3-blade prop from Tom Stephens at indigo does make a dramatic difference, on my boat at least. Much smoother, faster speeds at fewer revs, and the reverse & braking are remarkable. I actually have the confidence in maneuvering now I didn't enjoy before. Much more power in both directions. At $265 it ain't cheap, but its got my nod. Any-One wanna buy a good used 1lxlO two blade?
    My new asymmetrical spinnaker (cruising chute) from Brian Engelke at Sails and Sew On (way to go Bri!) has been indispensable in preserving my sanity, and actually getting some place. As I gain experience and confidence with it (it didn't come with a manual;-) its usefulness grows. But I still hesitate to fly it at night, which is usually when the winds are light (Catch 22). That's to say, it's not a sail you set before going to sleep, at least not until I'm more comfortable with it. I'm learning tricks on trimning and especially dousing it, which like reefing "should have already been done by the time you start thinking you need to." Without a sock, the first coupla times were a Chinese fire drill getting it down, and a wet wrestle hauling it aboard. I learned to let the tack rope out many feet while hauling in on the sheet, which swings the sail in behind the main for dropping. Then I can let the halyard fly and collect it on the lee deck behind the main. That 375 square feet of nylon is an impressive sight when 'full and by". My thanx again, Brian, for a beautiful job. Too bad you weren't along for some OJT on the proper handling. You would've had a ball. (And Cabo is MOST definitely not Kansas!) My previous experience with chutes was limited to the old-style spinnakers, and not much of that was positive. This is a 'breeze".
The windvane is great, truly a marvel. It generates terrific power,
yet none of the parts are under any strain. All that leverage and feedback is a mechanical wonder. Emanuel, I take back most of what I said about engineers.;-) (Bruce, my brother-in-Law, pay no attention to the guy in the sailor suit ranting about engineers). And lastly, this trip could not have been made without the contribution of that rubber "sticky" mesh like shelf and drawer liner stuff I bought at Staples and WalMart. Friends, if you ever heel more than five degrees, this stuff is incredible. I put down sheets of it everywhere, nave table, counter, under tool boxes....it just "glues" stuff down, from pencils to charts to utensils to books, plates, cups amazing! Not one item took The Dive off a counter even during heavy going. Highly recommended!
    My special thanx to Dave Smith in San Diego, who's been my SSB radio contact. It's a true relief and comfort to hear a friend hundreds or thousands of miles away, and be able to pass messages back and forth.. I think I can speak for Sherilyn as well when I say his help and support have made a world of difference and provided peace of mind on both ends.
    I'm finding some of the SSB Nets out here as well, some informal check-ins for people headed to Hawaii and the South Pacific, or the 'Clipper Crowd", which is the boats headed back up to California on the offshore route followed by the dipper ships headed up to Cal. Conventional wisdom is you can come down Baja, but you don't want to go back up. it's simply too rough going into wind and waves. Same as my trip...it would be nearly impossible to simply turn around and come back once into the Trades. And as most of you know, to come back I actually have to go very far north of Hawaii, at least as high as San Francisco, perhaps Seattle, and then 'turn right" and head for the northwest. Before the 'Clipper Route" was 'rediscovered' recently, most people would go all the way out to Hawaii and around it simply to return to the West Coast.
    And finally, I wish I could begin to describe Cabo to do it justice. This place alone would be worth the trip, and it may be more "exotic" than Hawaii...and probably more American as well at the same time. This place is a tropical fantasy land of mega-yaclits with helicopters on the foredecks, huge sport fishermen...the real Hemingway go-kill-some marlin type, voyaging sailors' rest stop, more drop dead beautiful tanned women (movie stars I'm sure) than I've ever seen in one place, and a playground for the rich brats from California. It's like Disneyland-meets-las Vegas-meets-SoCal meets Mardi Gras, with an international Jet Set feel, all on Fantasy Island, especially when the cruise ships call here and the hundreds of dazed and confused seniors hit land to mingle with the circus. Honeymooners and hustlers. And the cruisers in their floppy hats and Docksiders and shoulder bags rubbing elbows with the yuppies and Gen-Xers.
    It's a non-stop 24-hour carnival on the streets, open bars, music, taco stands, restaurants, tourist shops of all description. McDonalds, Burger King, Dairy Queen, Planet Hollywood, New York New York disco; hawkers chasing you to sell you everything from fishing and diving trips to cheap gold and silver jewelry (and drugs) to parrots and two-foot long bright green iguanas, which they carry around on their shoulders. The Indian women in their colorful blankets hawking little dolls and junk. Kids selling gum and candy.
    The whole town has exploded with Gringo money in the last five-ten years. The growth is staggering and hasn't slowed. Everyone you meet is an ex-pat from the states, some here by choice to ride the boom, some planning to leave because of it, and not a few who wish they could leave but "can't go home again" they'll tell you. The streets are a madhouse of Mexican beater mobiles and taxis and BMWs and Mercedes and SUVs from Cal. It's suicide to either walk or drive. Third World meets Planet Hollywood. The marina is in a dead end basin, so three sides are the Malecon -sidewalk- where all the action takes place. You can sit on your boat and watch the fun, or go ashore and join the party. Did I mention everything is staggeringly expensive? Cruisers maintain this might be the most expensive port of call in the world. My slip fee was three times what I pay in Mexico, which is about the same as San Diego.
    Even if a person hadn't just come in from a week of sensory deprivation.. no, make that "cultural" deprivation...aboard a boat at sea, this place is really something. And there's this indescribable vague sensation, kind of a desperateness, or a wildness and end-of the road feeling, that you know you're at the end of the earth. And in a manner of speaking, it is. It's like Cape Horn or Tierra del Fuego.. . you have this feeling of remoteness, like balanced on the edge of a cliff the Void beyond. And as wild as the town is, it's a very remote area. An 800-mile drive or sail down Baja dead-ends right here. It's 200-plus miles across to Mazatlan on the mainland. And it sticks out into the Pacific, huge rollers and surf breaking on the beaches you know came from far away places.
    And for me, the start of the next leg. I can actually stand on the very last piece of solid ground, the famous Cabo Arches (pictures of course) and look west, and imagine Hawaii 2400 miles out there. If I miss that, Southeast Asia is only another 3000 miles. But I won't miss. So, until the Big Island, this is The Dreamer signing off....

-Mike

(Mike's voyage will continue in future issues of the Windbreaker..)