5th January, 2025

Reflections on Cruising

When Jay and I untied the lines in California eleven years ago, we had no idea how far or for how long we would cruise. We planned to sail south to Mexico and from there, maybe further south and on through the Panama Canal. Maybe we would cross the ocean and reach the beautiful South Pacific islands. It was an adventure into the unknown. It was exciting and, if I’m honest, a bit scary.

We spent two months in San Diego and three weeks in Ensenada. We took a month cruising down the west coast of Baja California where we stopped at small coves with tiny villages. We spent days that turned into nights that turned into days, sailing. The seas were sometimes rough and sometimes flat. The winds were sometimes strong and sometimes still. We cooked and fished and swam and slept. It was everything I hoped it would be.

We arrived in La Paz in the late fall of 2013 and spent the winter season cruising the Sea of Cortez. There we were greeted with whales and dolphins swimming in turquoise water. Rocky, arid desert terrain stood in stark contrast to the sandy white beaches and blue ocean.

The following season, we crossed the Sea to Mazatlán, visited the Copper Canyon and stayed long enough to enjoy Mardi Gras. From there, we slowly made our way south, stopping at various inlets until we found our way to Banderas Bay and La Cruz. Several weeks later, we arrived at Paradise Village Marina in Nuevo Vallarta.

I never thought we would land in Mexico and stay in Mexico. I never wanted to be a “marina maiden.” I didn’t want to be “stuck” in a marina. (At least that is how I looked at it at the time.) I wanted to explore the seas, maybe even the world, on our boat. But something changed when I cruised the Sea of Cortez.

It was 2014 and the internet was not as available as it is today. Especially in the more remote parts of Mexico. That meant many weeks, even months, out of communication. Occasionally, if we were lucky, we could get cell reception. I felt isolated from our family. I missed my children. I realized, the further we traveled on the boat, the further away from our family we would be, and that just wasn’t going to work for me. Jay agreed, and since 2016, we have called Paradise Village Marina and Cadenza our “West Coast home” where we live four to six months a year.

Does that mean I am a “marina maiden?” Maybe. Does that mean I’m “stuck” in a marina? Hardly. Every winter season, we cruise out for at least six weeks. We have sailed as far south as Zihuatanejo, approximately 700 nautical miles round trip from Nuevo Vallarta. We anchor out in beautiful bays along the way, and when visiting Barra de Navidad we pull into a marina.

I am happy with our decision. The winter weather here is near perfect. We have incredible sailing grounds in Banderas Bay; flat seas and 15-20 knots of wind every afternoon. Whales everywhere. And the tropics! I love the lush green mountains that rise out of the sea on the south shore. Palm trees and bougainvillea, hibiscus flowers and yucca plants, decorate the landscape. Not to mention all the amenities available at Paradise Village Resort; three swimming pools, a gym and spa, all sitting alongside a beautiful beach that stretches for miles. I still miss our family, but we now have both internet and cell service, and we are close enough to an international airport to get home on a moment’s notice.

Since 2013, I figure we have spent a total of four years living in Mexico. People often ask if it is dangerous. Not any more dangerous than other places in the world. Certainly, I haven’t heard of any school shootings. And, as I have said before, the Mexican people are warm and welcoming and have a great sense of humor. They have an aura of joy that springs forth from their being. Sadly, I don’t see that same kind of joy emanating from those I meet at home. We Americans in the United States carry around a lot of stress and anxiety.

You might wonder what it is like to live on a boat for months at a time. Like anywhere you live, there are pluses and minuses.

There is quite a bit of room on our boat. Cadenza is 45 ’long and 13.5’ wide. We have a galley, a dining table, a separate living area with a settee, and two chairs. (We even have a tv.) We have a head and a shower. The state room has a queen-size bed and lots of storage.

Even though it feels homey and cozy, there are moments when it feels messy and cramped. Especially when there are miscellaneous tools lying about due to a broken something or other that needs to be fixed. Or when we are stepping over each other trying to get past in a skinny thruway.  And when the engine room is open and the smell of diesel and fuel seeps out into the air, well honestly, it can be nauseating.  When these things happen, we both get a little grumpy, so I counter with a good home-cooked meal. That usually brightens our mood.

We spend a lot of time outdoors. This makes me very happy. We have our morning coffee in the cockpit with a view of the river and mountains, listening to the morning songs of the birds. We often see the sun rise and always watch the sun set. Cocktail hour and dinners are also often spent in the cockpit. Magnificent Frigatebirds flying overhead, looking to steal food from the gulls, is our evening entertainment. Sometimes they succeed. Many times, they do not.

They say community is good for our health, particularly when we get older. We have a great group of friends here. We have lots of visitors who stop by our boat just to say hello or have a chat. We have our own WhatsApp group and share tools, advice, and recipes. We have a weekly get together where we share food and stories.

When we are cruising, the boating community really rallies. We keep in touch via VHF radio and if anyone needs anything, or finds themselves in trouble, there is usually someone close by who is willing to help.

There are so many blessings that come with our lifestyle, but my absolute favorite thing about living on a boat is when we are at anchor. The gentle motion of the boat. The night sky. The countless stars. Breathing in the fresh air. All things together quiet the mind. It is where I find peace.

So, where do we go from here? I tend to wonder (and worry) what the future will look like while constantly bringing myself back to the here and now. I want to be present and honor this very special season of our lives. This, like all things, won’t last forever.