1st March, 2026

Seven Days at Sea

Saturday, February 21, 2026

8 am – We spent the last two weeks in Barra de Navidad. It was fun filled with many cruisers gathering to help with the fundraiser for the local schools. We enjoyed afternoon swims followed by dinners in town. There was music, churros, and lots of laughter while visiting with friends. Our trip down the coast is an annual event that we cherish. But now it is time to go.

We have provisioned with enough food to last us the trip back to Paradise Village. We checked out with the Port Captain yesterday and just closed our account with the marina. We are off to get fuel and then on to Chamela.

5 pm – The motor-sail here was pleasant. The first half was a bit rolly, but after the wind picked up, the seas smoothed out.

There are a lot of boats here and ready to make the move to Ipala tomorrow. They are worried that there will be too many boats in that tiny anchorage. That can be a problem. We have decided to wait until the next weather window which is looking like Wednesday/Thursday. We will see. It’s nice to be here and have a few days at anchor to relax.

Sunday, February 22, 2026

Afternoon – Lots of chaos today in Puerto Vallarta. The Mexican military killed the head kingpin of The New Generation cartel. The state is in lockdown. Scary. Our friends who were thinking of heading north today, decided to stay. We think this is a good place to be until things are settled.

We are experiencing some strong winds from the south. This anchorage is open to the south. Not the place to be in a south wind. Between the wind and the waves, we are rocking and rolling.

Martha’s Vineyard is expecting a hurricane blizzard.

It all feels surreal.

8 pm – Darkness has descended. We are eating dinner in the cockpit. A snowy egret has visited us once again. She sits on our dinghy. She sways with the movement, back and forth. She doesn’t seem to be afraid of us. We are wondering if this is the same one that came to sit on the dinghy when we stopped here on the way down. She stays quite some time. I would like to think she is a spirit bird, and she brings us blessings.

Monday, February 23, 2026

We relaxed on the boat. It was very quiet.

Tuesday, February 24, 2026

Today Russ & Rhonda from sv/Matanuska invited us for breakfast at Jazz Café. They picked us up in their dinghy (Yay! We didn’t have to put ours down.). We were lower on fuel than Russ thought. There was some rowing involved. Always an adventure.

We had a lovely breakfast with only one other person at the restaurant. When we left to go to the market for provisions, we were surprised to find everything was closed. Evidently, we were still in lockdown. We looked around and realized the streets were empty.

Evening. The wind has picked up again. Tomorrow, we leave.

Wednesday, February 25, 2026

It was 19 years ago when Jay and I were here on this stretch of land we are passing on our way to Ipala from Chamela Bay. The resort where we got engaged that once stood there is no more. Word is some bad people got a hold of it and then the government took it over. Now it sits empty if there is anything left of it at all. We scan the beach for remnants but see none. It was a beautiful sanctuary. A place of peace and quiet in the middle of nowhere where one could escape from the everyday rat race. Such a shame to lose it.

I remember sitting on that beach. Jay and I were dreaming of a day when we would come cruising through these waters. And here we are. Dreams do come true.

4:30 pm – We have arrived and are at anchor in Ipala. There is not a soul on the beach. No one on the street. No fisherman attending the pangas. It is dead quiet. And no sailboats either. Eerie.

As the evening goes on, we see some life. It is unusually quiet though.

Thursday, February 26, 2026

It was 5 am when I woke up this morning. I thought I would go back to sleep. Then I realized that this was the second to last morning at anchor. I decided it was a moment not to be missed.

The stars were bright in the night sky. The light from shore illuminated the rocky hillside on one side of the cove. No other boats joined us. The sea was calm and there was no wind.

As I write this by candlelight (artificial as it is), I hear the creaks and moans of the boat and the water swishing against her hull. I am reminded of a Star Trek episode where we had to make the interior of a runabout sound like the interior of a sailing ship.

Was it like this? Thousands of years ago, men writing by candlelight while at sea? Listening to the creaks and groans of their boat? What thoughts went through their minds, being so far away from home? Were they lonesome? How excited they must have been when they finally sighted land, walked on land. What did they think of the people who they couldn’t communicate with? Will that be what it is like for us should we ever meet up with aliens? The imagination runs free under the shadow of night – or morning as it is now.

5 pm – We are in Punta de Mita. Our last night at anchor. Or we hope. We have been having trouble starting the engine. It sputters, sounds bad. It won’t start. And then it does. Hopefully, it will start tomorrow and get us back to the slip.

The trip here was so smooth. I have never crossed Corrientes when it was this flat. So often the seas are like a washing machine cycle. All mixed up. There was little wind. Not much in the way of waves. Definitely a blessing.

Friday, February 27, 2026

3 am – Suddenly I am wide awake. I decide to sit up. I peer out across the sea and listen. Then, I hear it.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Jay’s voice comes out of the darkness.

“I am listening for whale breath,” I answer. “Can you hear it?”

If I look to port, I see lights coming off the shore reflecting on the water. If I look to starboard, all is dark. The stars are hidden behind the clouds, and the clouds look like they meet the sea. That is the direction of the whale breath. She is close. I am filled with awe, and the emotion brings tears to my eyes. I listen as her breath gets further and further away.

The boat’s movement lulls me to sleep. Like a baby in its cradle, I am comforted.

I hear whale breath again and instantly I awaken and sit up. Another moment not to be missed. I know I can’t hold on to it. I can only be present.

What a gift.

10 am – We are docked in our slip in Paradise Village Marina. Another cruising season has ended.