Quijote's blog index:

2016 took us up the Inside Passage to Glacier Bay, Alaska for fourteen weeks with seventeen crew joining us along the way at various times: http://svquijote.blogspot.com

In 2017 Quijote crew did a six week circumnavigation of Vancouver Island: http://svquijote2017.blogspot.com

Then in 2018 we headed back up the Inside Passage for five weeks to the Broughton Archipelago: http://svquijote2018.blogspot.com

2019 was intended to be the start of a two year Pacific Ocean semi circumnavigation through the islands of the South Pacific, but like so much else that year, was interrupted by the global Covid pandemic. It's hard to visit countries that won't let you in. We got as far as the Sea of Cortez, Mexico before hauling the boat out of the water and storing her in a boat yard. We then flew home for the rest of the year.  The trip is detailed in this blog. (http://svquijote2019.blogspot.com)

Next up will be the return trip home from La Paz, Mexico via Oahu, Hawaii to Seattle:  http://svquijote2021.blogspot.com

Re-entry

We're back in the real world and finally heading home without any requirement to quarantine on entry into the US. That was a relief. Kay and I rented a car and are driving back to Seattle now. It is the end of a grand adventure, one that didn't go as planned, but went much better than it might have. I can honestly say the last several months have been a good experience. We can't ask for much more than that. I think I'll close this blog at this point and open another when I figure out what comes next. I honestly don't know. I'll edit this page with a link to the next blog when I start one, so stay tuned. In the mean time I'll leave you with a photo Kay took of me as we prepped the rental car for the trip north...

Five weeks

Last night was way more enjoyable than the night before. The first was grim: cold, wet and foggy all night and through most of the following day. Last night was clear and warm with a sliver of a moon, a starry sky, and dolphins shooting through phosphorescent seas. It was quite a contrast and a rather spectacular finale.

We're on the home stretch into San Diego. The predicted light wind (no wind) arrived on schedule and we've been motoring through the last couple of nights. It's all very soothing, droning away, hour after hour, while contemplating the pandemic chaos that awaits us. We're looking forward to being done with this trip and yet simultaneously apprehensive about making contact with a changed world.

The night before leaving La Paz five weeks ago, we enjoyed dinner on the veranda of a restaurant overlooking the marina. The setting sun complemented piña coladas and seafood tacos. What a difference a month makes.

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Among the negatives

There might be a positive impact of the virus on our intended trip: the downturn in the world economy will put a damper on the number of boats that have been crowding into the South Pacific anchorages. This was going to be an especially busy year with the World Arc under way. All those boats were forced to reroute through Hawaii. They won't be back next year. And, all the PPJ boats that would have been preparing to go next spring and can still afford to go might be forced to wait another year by their inability to prepare. It's all speculation, but probably reasonable. Then again, what if this blasted thing hangs on and some of the countries don't open their boarders by next spring? I'll have to decide if it's worth it to leave my boat where it is for two years - two years of not being able to use my boat. Ack! So much uncertainty. I guess I don't have to make any decisions now.

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The light at the end of the tunnel

I assembled the crew's breakfast this morning: oatmeal, fortified with some leftover from the last time we had it, and chopped dried apples. No one knew where the raisins made off to, or even if we had any left, so I chopped up some dates and threw them in instead. I served it with a bowl of chopped walnuts, chopped canned peaches, and a large jar of home grown yogurt. Sprinkled with brown sugar, it was delicious.

Our to-do list is light today. The sun is out, so the solar panels are making electricity while the watermaker fills the fresh water tanks. We're starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel on this trip. We're waiting for heavy weather to die down before departing tomorrow morning on what might turn out to be our last day of sailing. Sometime tomorrow night the wind is forecasted to die down for several days so we'll do a motorboat ride the rest of the way into San Diego.

Eric got word from the Mexican embassy yesterday that they couldn't advise us on whether to stop at Ensenada for clearance, since each port was adhering to is own policies. Given that the Port Captain for Turtle Bay wouldn't allow us off the boat, we're resolved not to try stopping at Ensenada to clear customs. We might just find our way clear of Mexico in four or five days!

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Not so Pacific

Our overnight passage to the next in a succession of anchorages was a rough one, but it was made in relatively good form. I refrain from naming most of these stops because nine tenths of them are named after saints or other religious contrivances and honestly, who cares what they're called?

The wind and waves were predicted to be moderate last night, but the wind was in the low to mid twenties for much of the night. The 2m waves made for a lumpy, wild ride.

I was lying in bed off watch at one point, trying to get some sleep on a bunk that was pitching and rolling under me. I heard a lot of lines running and winches rattling as Eric and Linda worked to keep pace with the rising wind speed by putting a third reef in the main. Suddenly I heard Eric shout an expletive and it wasn't hard to predict what was coming next: all hands on deck. Kay and I joined them to find reefing lines fouled in a 25 knot wind. It was a dark and stormy night... Eric led the effort as he worked to resolve the foul from the top of the coachroof while holding on to the boom for dear life. Linda and Kay worked the lines and held his light, while I managed the helm, somehow keeping the boat oriented so the wind came from forward and to one side of the boat. That kept pressure off the sail and prevented the boom from swinging around while Eric worked. It was a good bit of teamwork and everything worked out in the end, but you never know how things will turn out when you're in the thick of it.

I was on watch again later in the morning as the wind died down and we coasted into the anchorage under a lovely sunny day. The forecast is threatening to hold us here for several days, but it was nice to arrive in friendlier weather.

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Fueled up!

A lot of boats had planned on joining the Pacific Puddle Jump (PPJ) rally this year from all up and down the west coast of North and South America to places all over the South Pacific. With SP countries now closed, scores of boats that had already left the Americas were forced to leave their boats and fly home. Many choose to reroute toward Hawaii instead, with the result that Hawaii is now overrun with yachts returning from foreign countries and seeking entry and safe harbor. We've heard from some of those boats via the PPJ network that Hawaii has closed at least one port to arriving yachts and is enforcing a two week quarantine on arrivals without regard to time spent on the yacht enroute. As I understand it, this is a directive from the governor of Hawaii. A similar policy may be in effect in California. We won't know until we get to San Diego whether we'll be stuck there for a couple of weeks before we can head home. So far we've been on the boat for over three weeks, so it's pretty unlikely that we're carrying, but I guess they don't know that.

We're in Turtle Bay now. It's the first anchorage in Mexico that we stopped at on our way south. It took us four days non-stop going south. This time it'll probably take us a couple of weeks of bashing up wind and anchoring along the way. So: two weeks to get to San Diego, two weeks quarantine, and a few days to drive home puts us there toward the end of May.

When we arrived here, we were met by a local in a Panga who sold us diesel and told we are not welcome to go ashore. Apparently there are police and military personnel who are posted to intercept us if we try. We assured him we were happy to remain on the boat. Refueling without having to go ashore was exactly what we were hoping for. Now we can proceed to San Diego without having to stop and without worrying about running out of fuel. Yay!

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