You know? Like knick-knack patty whack? Get it? It’s a stretch, you guys, but it’s the last day of the A to Z challenge, I’m overheated, and you’re just gonna have to cut me some slack!
Today has been all hustle and bustle with preparations to leave Mazatlán since the fridge relocation is allegedly definitely maybe done. The countless other side projects that inevitably surface while sidled up to a dock are starting to take a toll on Craig and he is chomping at the bit to get back out there on the open ocean. We’ve started to look at the forecast to evaluate the wind conditions and I can tell that Craig is desperate to leave the marina because he said sailing close hauled with 25 knots of apparent wind sounded good. He’s longing for the wind in his hair and a bone in Small World’s mouth.
Isn’t that a funny term? I wish I could take credit for it, but it’s a legitimate term from the olden days of tall ship sailing and exploring. There are a couple different definitions, but one of the meanings specifically refers to a type of sail flown below a bowsprit – and we never intentionally do that. But that definition led to the phrase referring to the beginning of a voyage, with all sails up. Otherwise it refers to a boat with white water foaming at her bow – basically a big fat bow wake. You can’t get a bow wake if you’re not hauling ass. Sailing Small World upwind into that stiff breeze would put a T-Rex’s femur in her mouth.
But if we are going to cover 600 miles in the next month, it’s time to start (continue) this voyage. The last time we crossed the Gulf of California I was sick the entire time and we had some engine issues. I’m hoping that this time will be less miserable and nerve wracking, but apparently, I haven’t been scared off yet. YET. That’s an important caveat. I reserve the right to change my mind about that at any time. Except apparently when we are in the middle of a large body of water and there’s no way to escape.
We are heading to the Baja Peninsula, which is home to whale sharks and I am hoping to have some luck spotting them. Some friends of ours posted a video of one of the gentle giants swimming up to their boat to check them out. If I could have jumped through that computer screen and into the water, I would’ve hugged that whale shark and never let go. My Mamita isn’t too keen on the idea of me swimming with them, so we’ve decided that I won’t tell her about it in advance, so she doesn’t have to worry about it. But I’m pretty sure that when it finally happens, I’ll be crying and leaking snot into my snorkel gear. Don’t worry – I plan on making Craig take all the photos and all the videos so you’ll get to see me choke on my own happiness.
I’m not sure what I’m writing about anymore. I’m dehydrated. I think I’m calling it. Thanks to everyone who read and commented on the posts. I promise not to do another daily challenge for at least a year. Scouts honor.