A view from land

It has been a few weeks already. I want to hold on to all my memories tight, but the force of time and the need to move forward weaken my ability to grasp them. Places, people, sights, it all begins to fade into one flat vision. It’s “just something we did”. I know pretty soon people won’t ask much, I will have to bite my tongue not to brag about how brave, how lucky, and how strong we were. I will have to wait for opportunities to bring some remembrances to life and heavens forbid, I may even have to make the storms bigger and multiply the amount and sizes of the sharks we saw

Re-immersion into the “traditional” “old” “natural” “typical” “common” or however we call this lifestyle is like jumping into a running treadmill, no one stops it for us, we just have to jump in and keep running, no time to look back, no time to look down we can only hope it will slow down or we will get more in shape. There was a house to put back together, there were utilities to set up and there were festivities to plan; Samantha’s Birthday and Christmas.

It was nice to be back for the holidays, but I was not prepared for the chaos at the stores, physically and emotionally was a painful experience; crowded, messy, long lines, simply overwhelming. On the other hand, how nice it was to be “home” that morning after Christmas; the cold day, the tree lights twinkling to the music, the rug on the floor, the girls in their cozy robes, the smell of cinnamon rolls in the oven and the freshly grounded coffee brewing. It was a traditional Christmas setting, no adjustments were necessary, no swimming or sliding down the mast for Santa.

The Tubac Villager Article

The Tubac Villager is the local newspaper who published this in August  while we were still adventuring in Central America and our plans were to cross to the Atlantic Ocean. 

So many times we heard the saying “there is no better time than now”.   My husband; Matt Beemer, my daughters; Samantha and Trinidad, and I took it seriously.   Confronting all the fears and anxieties we jumped into a long-time dream; the dream to go sailing.

A weak economy and the age of our two little girls; Samantha 7 and Trinidad 5, is what it took for us to set sail. Finding the boat was a challenge, a very intense and emotional search, after all this was going to be our “new home”. We found the right boat in California; a Morgan 38 sailboat, equipped with some important gear and spacious enough to accommodate all of us with no real danger of suffocating each other.

On November the 10^th, 2009, all of the contents of our home in Tubac, AZ were reduced to a pick up truck full of our most necessary belongings and things we couldn’t detach ourselves from, such as “Purple Baby” (Trinidad’s doll), “Beeni” (Samantha’s stuffed animal) and those that seemed important at that time, but later got in the way. We prepared for a month living aboard our new home; s/v “Endurance”, before leaving the safety and the comforts of a San Diego dock. On December 16^th I woke up to the sunrise on Mexican waters. Matt, our captain, had taken the most difficult step of the adventure; he untied the lines!.

In the past six months we have sailed the entire Pacific coast of Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua and now Costa Rica. The adventure over all has been beyond our expectations.

We have seen nature at its best; incredible colors in the sky, full moon, sunrises and sunsets, the perfect combination of sand, palm trees and cobalt blue or turquoise green water, the amazing rock formations sculpted by wind, water and sometimes volcanic activity, the intimidating movements of the ocean, the beaches that glow at low tides, the mangroves that lure us into exploring, the spray of the break as the waves smash onto the rocks, the endless shades and sounds of the jungle and best of all, the sea life. Nothing could ever compare to the excitement of the girls when a school of dolphins come to play around the boat or when the whale blows, breaches or slaps its tale, or when a booby bird observes the world go by in the middle of the sea while resting on a turtle’s back. Nothing compares to the emotion of seeing a light show presented by the interaction of dolphins and bio luminescence at night or the girls’ giggles of seeing these microorganisms find their way into the bathroom and revealing themselves at the moment of flushing.

We have met people at their best; cruising families, couples, single handlers or groups of friends all looking to fulfill a dream, to test their endurance, to live differently. We are all eager to share our experiences, to help each other and naturally to enjoy a margarita during sunset. We have met the locals who with the little they have, opened up their doors, shared their food, toys and time to assist us.  

We have been socially and culturally immersed with the people; their traditions and lifestyle.  We have learned about their food; “tostilocos”, “mangos con chile”, “tacos de camaron en rajas” in Mexico, “Papusas” in el Salvador,  “Patacones”, “Casados” and “Gallo Pinto” in Costa Rica. Just to name a few. We have learned about their art, their dances, their ways to meet basic life demands; transportation, health, shelter, hygiene, work and education. I will never forget the impression on the girls’ faces when we had to fill a bucket with water to flush a toilet in Mexico, or Samantha’s, excitement when she was invited, along with Matt, by a local fisherman to go and lift the fishing nets at 6 in the morning or when she went around the tables of a restaurant selling mangoes or when Trinidad wanted to know how to say “May I have a tour of the house” in Spanish while visiting local children who lived in a house with dirt floor and tin walls. Experiences like these make me think that they will never take for granted the “luxuries” we have at home.

As much as I would like to pretend it’s all wonderful, as wonderful and easy as we planned, it is not. The sweet flavor of the adventure lasts until we are confronted with fear; fear of not having the money, fear of being isolated, fear of loosing our good health and, most importantly, the fear of death. We have been tested by the weather, by the tight spaces, by the solitude, by the inconveniences of unorganized and/or corrupted nations, by nature, by rough living, by mechanics, by technology, by our own bodies. Yes we have been tested.

 One moment of great concern was the night when Matt asked me to make sure our ditch bag was in place. It was night time, I remember well the motion of the ocean, I could see the shapes of the waves over Matt’s head and the speed we would reach while surfing down these enormous waves. I quickly prepared the bag with our survival items including chocolate and peanuts for a sweet distraction to disaster. However, I had plenty of confidence in Matt’s ability to maneuver wisely and faith that it was just not “our time”. Another one was the time we had to return to Mexico because there was water coming into the bilge.. ALARMS!! This could potentially put the boat under water or the time in Acapulco when we found that our dinghy (inflatable boat) was gone. Horrible feeling!. We did find it with the help of a marina employee, but had to pay a “rescue fee”, or the time when we were warned of a possible tsunami wave coming our way after the earthquake in Chile or the time Matt had to be hospitalized as a result of complications with parasites.  The worst moments of all have been the times we have had to say goodbye to friends to follow our own journey.

There are plenty of challenges in this lifestyle; not only having to deal with contingencies, such as weather, illnesses, unforeseen expenses etc., but those we assumed the moment we decided to buy a boat to travel overseas; space, provisioning, water, bathroom and sleeping arrangements.

Regarding space, it did not bother me to reduce a large walk-in closet to just a cubby, but it does bother me that at the moment of cooking, I must move all the ingredients to side B to get a bowl from under side A and then back to A to get the butter from under B.  The moment of real frustration comes when I realize I forgot something from under A.

Provisioning is always fun; fun to see what we can find at the local stores. All essentials are easily available; sugar, coffee, eggs, milk, flour with or without weevils, the difficulty is not finding food, but getting it into the boat while at anchorage. We must load the dinghy, push it through the break and jump in without getting the groceries or the kids too wet (they hate that) and without flipping the dinghy over the break (they hate that more). 

Making the water last is critical; “Endurance” can hold 100 gallons that must last from one port to the next one with potable water, not as easy as it sounds. Most typically, we ended up buying bottled water to refill the tanks. The rationalization of the use of the water can be difficult, but we have managed to conserve it by brushing our teeth without leaving the water running, by not using the shower as a SPA, in fact, we have learned to wash in salt water and spray a little fresh afterward, same procedure for washing clothes and dishes. In some instances we were unable to use the bay water due to its questionable cleanliness so we had to use only fresh or look for showers elsewhere.

 As far as the bathroom goes, I look forward to being able to flush a toilet with the minimal motion. Most marine toilets consist of a handle that must be pumped up and down at least 20 times to flush. It is a real work out! Plus there is always the issue that if someone leaves a valve open the boat would sink. I have walked into the bathroom (AKA “head”) and have been surprised by the “splash” my foot makes as I step into it. Oops!

The sleeping arrangements in our boat are disarrangements. We rotate beds according to weather conditions or who is on watch. No matter where we sleep, it is always uncomfortable to have to hold on while asleep when the seas are rough and the boat slams the waves or rolls furiously from side to side. On the other hand, nothing compares to the cradle motion when the seas are calm.

Most people have asked me about schooling for the girls; Samantha was in first grade when we left and Trinidad was not in school yet. I made sure I had enough material to continue a somewhat “formal education”. I purchased a few curricula on math, plus Samantha’s school gave me the books she was working with when we left. We finished 1^st grade and are currently working on 2^nd. Trinidad is working on kindergarten activities and she loves it as long as we don’t do “school”. We combine the book work with art, reading, practical life and first hand experiences in geography, history, language and natural science to hopefully, educate them well.

Our plans for the next few months are to explore the Pacific coast of Panama, go through the Panama Canal, and sail the Caribbean side all the way North to reach the coast of Texas. However, our plans tend to change with the weather and the circumstances. It’s all part of the adventure in which we decided to take part.

As I have written before in our website, we may experience fear and trepidations, but there is no worse than the one of not living our dreams. I feel extremely blessed to be here and grateful to all those who encourage and support us one way or another.

If you would like to follow our journey visit us in www.sailingendurance.blogspot.com

Crossing the US-Mexico Border

On Friday the 10th at 7:05 PM,  we were presenting our documentation to the immigration officer at the US-Mexico border. I wanted so bad to tell this nice man in uniform about my feelings of pride with a statement like “we just did the craziest thing in the world”, but I knew it would not be taken the way I meant it. Instead, we limited ourselves to answer his questions with a very casual look on our faces. No big deal! We are coming from Mexico and we are heading home! 

After a short stop for dinner we drove to my mother-in-law's house; Karen Wilson where she and her husband Earl Wilson have been waiting for us for a while. The girls run to their arms. Their happiness was contagious. We sat and chatted for a while before going to bed with a glass of wine on our hands in a cozy and comfortable sofa. So cozy and comfortable it was that we have extended our stay at their house a few days giving us the chance to visit, go over paperwork delegated to Karen prior of our departure and that she is happy to hand back to us and given the girls the chance to receive a well deserved (or needed)  SPA treatment.

Thank you Karen and Earl for the hospitality!!

Packing the leftovers of a voyage

We are at our final destination, no more provisioning, no more radio calls, no more route plotting, no more fear of storms, no more anticipation to see who we’ll meet at our next anchorage. Endurance is stripping its sails, the deck is clear of all obstacles; no liferaft, no dinghy, no water jugs, no kayaks, no snorkeling gear, no shells drying, no flip flops left behind,  the covers are empty just barely a left over coffee, a pineapple, a beer in the fridge. Our friends are all gone, some went south and some went home. We had just finished packing the leftovers of a voyage, she is coming out of the water and we will let her rest for a while. 

She looks beautiful, she gave herself life by taken us as far as Panama and back, by delivering us safely to every port, by surviving every storm, swell, currents and the hits and bumps of floating logs, by sailing smooth through pods of dolphins, breaching whales and floating turtles, by looking always gallant as we moved forward. She gave herself life by being our home and by her ENDURANCE.

 It will be 7 hours before we cross the border and make just a memory of the most amazing experience of our life.

I refuse to hurt the dentist feelings!

A visit to the dentist was never my favorite activity. I was traumatized as a kid; the pain, the sounds, the smell, the tools and, worse of all, the constant threat of taking my candies away. They were all the perfect combination for the most terrifying nightmare. As I got older and dentists became more sensitive to the comfort of their patients, I must admit, there were times when I look forward to sitting in that reclining leather chair with the soft tunes in the background, no matter how hard they drilled into my teeth I felt relaxed especially because I had a nice break from tending to the needs of my adorable family. Unfortunately, yesterday my dentist experience took me back to the years of terror and this time I did not have my mother holding my hand as I used to.

A few blocks away from the marina was his office, the dentist’s office. I met him a couple of days ago when he checked the kids in the hallway to his office, he seemed nice, his prices were reasonable and I was not too concern about the quality of his service, I just needed a cleaning. For US$20, why not?... well, after my experience today, I have many reasons as to “why not?”; possible attacks, torture with pain, exposure to 100 different kinds of germs, possible breaking of the teeth or ripping of the gums and certainly, the doubt of “are my teeth clean now?”  

I walked to his office at the end of the dark alley, open the door, hoping to find a room full a patients and a secretary holding the sing up sheets and offering a seat. Instead, I found him with his head down, his arms crossed and the signs of active dreaming. It was a few seconds until I startle him and realized it was too late for me to leave. The room was quite, bold and dark. No much in there to keep anyone awake and no one there to make me feel more comfortable with my decision to visit ”any” dentist.

He was so happy to see me, as if I was the first or only patient in a while, he thanked me for coming back and invited me into the examination room where I found the old leather chair with the crusty stand for the tools. They looked sterilized. He made me open my mouth, placed the mirror and the probe and started to dig into my gums. “Nice, nice… very nice” he says. (I would never expect those words from a dentist). As he cleans he talks to me in his broken English despite knowing that I am a native Spanish speaker and that it would be impossible for me to reply with tools in my mouth. I did manage to smile for a while, until I told him my gum was sensitive and he dug deeper, I repeated it and so did he; he dug even deeper. I realized it was better to forget about sensitive gums and let him finish quick. I needed to run out; especially after I let my brain dragged me into the deepest paranoia. It was only me and the dentist, in a room inside the room, all doors were closed, I was buried in a leather chair with sharp poky tools, I was vulnerable! 

The final step of the cleaning was the polishing; he walked a few steps to the back shelf, grabbed a white jar of paste and scrapped the corners of it with a little brush that connected to a drill. He placed the brush onto my teeth and realized it didn’t work, therefore he must finish the job manually, by moving the brush up and down hard, hoping I wouldn’t notice.

“Beautiful!” he says, I stand quickly and paid the bill. “Please bring your kids and your husband!”… mmm “Ok” “I will see”, I said “Never” I thought.

Although I wanted to run from the moment I stepped into that office my heart fell sorry for the man, I trusted my fate.

Good bye to good friends!

Our friends from Ceilydh hoisted anchored in the morning and sailed down to La Paz.

I am grateful to them for making our time in Guaymas so memorable. Samantha got to celebrated her 8th birthday on board their boat which included another sleepover, a tasty cake, games and fireworks.

Thank you for the fun, the good talk, the good plays, good meals and of course, the projects.

The grass looks greener from here; Mexico is a good place!

The media is scaring my family, they tell me to please exit Mexico as soon as possible, they try to warn us about the violence, but the truth is that not only I feel safe, but I am very comfortable! In the whole time I have been in the country and of all the places I have visited, I have never felt slightly threaten and never seen signs of a possible conflict.

I know the number of people that have been killed this year is more than 20K, which is about 20 times the population of the town where we live. It sounds atrocious!! But proportionally, how big is this? How this percentage does compares to cities in the US? Canada? Chile? England? Japan? China? I don’t know. Does anyone wonder? I am not going to doubt the numbers given, or the potential dangers, but out of 100,000 people 11 died due to drug related violence in opposition to, for example, El Salvador or Honduras where more than 50 people die for every 100,000. 

Mexico in general has been a wonderful experience, from a cruiser’s point of view it is amazing; beautiful bays, nice anchorages, good medical, inexpensive provisioning, delicious food and very refreshing drinks!!! I still consider Mexico a safe place to wander.  

There are sad sights to experience such as the lady in a wheel chair selling "chicle" for $1 peso, the 4 year old kids selling lady bugs with bobbling heads, mentally disturbed people walking the streets, animals in precarious state with no owners. There are, also, annoying situations such as; the merchant who when foreigners approach, inflation hits, or the lack of regulation on the acoustics of every event. Did I mention that there are events almost very day in Guaymas?