Friday, December 5, 2014 Familiar

Woke up:  La Paz, Mexico

Went to sleep:  La Paz, Mexico

Familiar

Coming back to La Paz feels so comfortable.  Coming back to the familiar is so easy compared to never knowing where you are.  We didn’t have a slip in the marina but rather “anchored out”.  For 15 pesos, Marina de la Paz provides a lovely dinghy dock just a few steps away from showers, laundry, book exchange, restaurant, taxi cabs, etc.

We don’t intend to be here long as we want to spend more time in the beautiful anchorages around Isle Espiritu Santo and Isle Partida before we leave Baja and cross to the main land.

In the morning, we went with Salvador to immigration.  Salvador is an agent we hired to help us with the paperwork.  We waited an hour and a half before they called our number. We were finger printed and five minutes later we left.  We were told our visas would be available in five to ten days.

Many of the manuals we reviewed in preparation for this trip said “cruising” is no more than working on your boat in exotic places.  Before now, I thought that meant the engine would fail or the mast might fall over.  I now know the infinite number of little things that can clamber for attention.

This afternoon I hoisted Peter up to the very tip-top of the mast.  About 583 cranks of the winch handle.  The wind indicator was stuck.  He sprayed some detergent lubricant onto the bearings and got the thing going again and soon the anometer began to register 14.5 knots apparent wind.

As we prepared to return to town, the dinghy refused to idle.  I sat in the cockpit reading while Peter tried a number of things.  After changing the spark plugs and fuel filter he suddenly had the idea it might be a stuck float.  Well, of course!  Why didn’t I think of that?  He walloped on the carburetor a few times and Wa! La! soon she was purring like a well fed kitten.  Plus, with the new spark plugs she starts on the first pull – no choke.

One other mechanical hindrance needed attention today.  The air vent on the black water holding tank was clogged.  Even when the tank was empty, the burgeoning gas within was claiming capacity.  Peter used a CO2 cartridge – typically used to fill a flat bicycle tire – to blow the line clear.  Done.

We refer to these potential pitfalls as “alligators”.  At the end of the day Peter proclaimed, “Another alligator slayed today.”

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About Susan M. Gierga

Everyone already knows everything there is to know about me. I wear my heart on my sleeve. To learn current details. Visit my blog, CruisingwithCaptainPeterandtheAdmiral.
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